Free Running Hot by Helenkay Dimon

now?” She guessed they were the same age. She might even be a slight bit older.
    â€œThirty-five.”
    A light tapping noise against the roof had them both moving back to the door. Blue skies broke through the umbrella of trees above them but a soft rain fell. Typical for the tropical climate. The humidity brought daily rain. This seemed like little more than a short shower, but it would make trekking difficult. Getting in and out in silence and being able to cover their tracks moved to the top of her list of concerns.
    But one simple question still stuck in her brain. “Was the breakup her fault or yours?”
    His smile came out of nowhere. “I’m divorced. Single and unattached.”
    â€œI didn’t ask.” Okay, she sort of did, but he didn’t have to look so damn pleased with himself. Last thing she needed was him thinking she cared about his private life . . . even though more questions ate at her now.
    â€œI’m happy to share about my private life if you are.”
    â€œYou are truly annoying.” It was either that response or say yes, and that would take them careening straight into the emotional danger zone.
    â€œAs if I’ve never heard that before.” He went back to visually cataloging the weapons in front of him.
    â€œBut . . .”
    He looked at her with a blank expression. “What?”
    If whatever kept pinging around inside of her would just stop, she’d skip this question. But the truth was, she didn’t want to. The craving wouldn’t stop, and she started to welcome it. “Do not take this the wrong way.”
    â€œCryptic.” When she didn’t speak up, one of his eyebrows lifted. “I’m waiting.”
    â€œThis is about adrenaline and nothing else.” She sounded like a babbling idiot. For some reason her brain and her mouth were on two different wavelengths.
    â€œWhat are we talking about?” he asked, his voice echoing the confusion on his face.
    It was not as if she’d never had sex. She enjoyed the intimacy and the pleasure—sometimes just for fun, and sometimes because she needed a deeper connection than she got from her run-and-gun lifestyle. Every now and then it was part of the job.
    This time would be for her. Just for now. Once and done, and then she could forget him.
    She took a deep inhale and went for it. “Take your clothes off.”
    He looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Excuse me?”
    â€œYou’re attracted to me.” Good Lord, now she was waving her hands in the air. Once she realized it, she stopped. Curled her hands into balls at her sides. “I find you . . . fine.”
    He covered his mouth and produced a fake cough. She assumed it hid a smile. That was almost enough to make her rescind the offer.
    â€œReally? That’s all you can muster?” This time he did smile. “You think I’m fine?”
    He was hot and tall and had a face that played in her head long after she closed her eyes each night. And that body. Long and lean with the stalk of a predator. Ward was a man who protected and fought. She got the impression he wrestled demons that had to do with reconciling chivalry and decency with the work they performed.
    The combination of all that made her wild with need. “Your clothes are still on.”
    â€œAre you saying you want to—”
    Since he said the sentence so slowly, emphasizing and halting after each word, she finished it fast. “Shag.”
    Both eyebrows rose now. “Please tell me that’s British for have sex.”
    â€œYes.”
    He blew out a long staggered breath. “Thank God, because right now my body is in a race to see what will explode first, my brain or my dick.”
    Uh? “Is that a compliment?”
    â€œBelieve it or not, yes.” Two steps and he was in front of her with his fingers playing with the small white button at the top of her slim T-shirt. “So,