Special Forces: The Recruit

She tried to move away from his hand subtly, without waking him. But the mattress was so narrow she had nowhere to go, and his arm tightened with easy strength, holding her snugly against him. Was he awake? Was this her first test?

Her eyes narrowed. She never had been the type to walk away from a challenge. She rolled over to face Beau and insinuated her thigh between his. The guy had an impressive erection going. Not lacking in that department at all, she noted. She rested her palms on his chest, tracing the gorgeous collection of muscles there and letting her hand drift around his narrow, muscular waist to his back. Her nose nestled against the junction of his neck and shoulder, the heat of the man furnace-like.

Abruptly, he came wide awake. He didn’t move in any way to indicate to her that he’d woken up. One minute he was relaxed against her, and the next she was clinging to a deadly predator thrumming with tension, prepared to pounce at any second and eat her alive.

Beau was so appealing to the eye that it was easy to forget just how dangerous a man he was. His pretty-boy looks lulled a person into a false sense of security. She could see how Jimbo had made the mistake. Memory of that cold, flat, killer’s calm in Beau’s eyes last night in the restaurant flashed into her head. She wasn’t just playing with fire here. She was playing with a lit blowtorch.

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