Taken By the Spy

“Where are you sleeping?” she asked, all innocence.

“Here. How about you?”

Her alarmed blue gaze snapped to his. She looked down at the inviting bed. Back up at him. “Oh.”

He shrugged, but it didn’t relieve the abrupt tension in his shoulders. “I don’t know about you, but I’m beat. And tomorrow promises to be rougher than today.” Why did he give a damn if she refused to sleep with him or not? She wasn’t some princess—which she was taking great pains to convince him of. She was just a person. Just like him.

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