Passing His Guard

“There’s nothing to say, Aiden,” she said woodenly.

Fuck, she sounded so distant, so broken. He’d done this to her, reducing her to an unrecognizable woman who was nothing like the strong, independent female he knew, the powerhouse in a small package that never took no for an answer and was a force to be reckoned with. This wasn’t the same woman who’d drugged him, abducted him, stumbled onto a robbery, and nearly gotten herself killed. Yet through it all, she’d held it together—not missing a beat. Rock solid—that was his Rya

“You just told . . . the man who’s made my life a living hell . . . for the last month . . . ‘good luck.’ Then you all but called me a . . . a whore by accusing me of having a boyfriend after we . . . After you . . .”

She tried to wrest free from his grasp. God help him, he was an asshole. Muttering a self-damning curse, he gently framed Rya

“—a mistake,” she cut in, finishing his sentence, which was not what he was going to say at all. She took a step back, pulling away, and it took all his strength to let her go. “It can’t happen again. It won’t happen again. This”—she waved her finger between them—“is a mistake. It would never work.”

Why was it a mistake? Just because he’d thought the same thing last night didn’t stop him from wanting to know where the hell she thought he was lacking.

“I think it would be best if we just pretended that last night didn’t happen.”

The hell it would! What was she thinking?—that she could just forget her first orgasm? Was she going to pretend that didn’t happen? Because he had news for her: That fucking happened, and he wanted it to happen again. In fact, he wanted it to happen again right now. So he’d be damned if he was going to let her forget it. If she thought forgetting him was going to be so easy, she had another thing coming.

He’d been trying to forget this woman since the day she walked into his gym a little over a week ago, and look how well that turned out. Rya

Holding up his hands in surrender, he took a measured step back and nodded his acquiescence. “If that’s what you want, Rya

Some of the tension seemed to ease from her shoulders as she perceived this small victory as a win, but he wasn’t tapping out. “All right, then. As long as we’re clear.”

Crystal.

“Do you umm . . . want the shower first?” She walked backward toward the bed, keeping her eyes on him the entire time. Smart girl. She stopped by the chair where her suitcase was lying open on the table next to the lounger.

“Nope, I’m good. Had a few of them last night.” Step in. Jab. Move out.

“So you don’t mind if I hop in?”

Too short. Ignoring his subtle dig, she turned toward her luggage and began rummaging through her clothes. Circle. Approach. “Be my guest. I left my shirt in there. I’ll just go grab it.” Arms up. Circle. Step in. “Hey, Rya

“Yeah?” She glanced over her shoulder when he didn’t answer right away.

Jab. “Will you toss me my underwear?” Contact.

CHAPTER

17

You all right?”

Rya

Aiden’s brow arched in question, but he didn’t push her. He turned those unca

She cast him another glance, unable to help noticing how that lax pose put his impressive arms on display. She was bound and determined not to appreciate the ropes of muscle stretching up his forearms, or the defined cut of his biceps and his chiseled triceps. Seriously, who had arms like that?

He wore a simple camo-colored V-neck T-shirt they’d picked up at the local clothing store. Apparently, they didn’t grow them that big here in Portage, because XL was all they had and it was still tight on him. And those relaxed-fit jeans didn’t look very relaxed, either. They hugged him in all the right places and strained in others, not that he seemed to notice or care. Whether wearing a two-thousand-dollar suit or skintight fight shorts, the man was so comfortable in his own skin, it didn’t matter what was covering his body. And considering how much she wanted to jump out of her skin right now, that grated.

She hadn’t expected coming here to hit her so hard, but the déjà vu of sitting in the police station waiting for the officer to take her statement brought back a slew of painful memories rising to the surface that were all too fresh. How many hours had she spent waiting in one of these hard plastic chairs, trying to get someone to listen to her?

Sitting in this police station was a good reality check, reminding her why she was here in the first place, and what she had to do. Aiden was proving to be a dangerous distraction she couldn’t afford. The more time she spent with him and the better she got to know him, the more she liked the cagey, flirtatious fighter. Getting attached to a client was a really bad idea. It was a rookie mistake and she’d been doing this job long enough to know better.

The longer she delayed in delivering Aiden to Madeline Kruze, the greater the chances of something going terribly wrong. All it would take was for him to change his mind about returning with her, and all this would blow up in her face. There were so many factors out of her control. Although she could always drug him again, she supposed.

“How much longer do you think this is going to take?” Her waspish tone belayed her impatience to have this over with. They needed to get back on the road before anything else happened to derail their course.

Aiden gave a negligent shrug. “These things take time. I suspect this isn’t something these guys do every day. Portage doesn’t exactly strike me as a high-crime area. If they don’t follow everything by the book, all it’d take was a smart lawyer to come in here and get these assholes off on a technicality.”