Dani watched until they vanished from sight, then sank down into the seat behind her and took a long pull of her beer. She fanned herself. Gary was right. She needed to cool down.
This job might actually turn out to be tougher than she thought.
…
Zach strolled through the velvet darkness. It was past midnight.
He’d left Gary and Simon on his terrace discussing changes to his security, but he’d seen the light from the guesthouse and given in to an inexplicable but undeniable urge to go and see if Sergeant Danielle Sinclair was still awake.
All through dinner, the memory of her breasts kept popping up at inappropriate moments. He’d distracted himself by asking about her. When Gary raised an eyebrow, he’d told them he wanted to know a little about the people supposedly protecting him. They obviously hadn’t believed him. Then again, he’d never asked any questions about either of his male guards.
But she fascinated him—so small and prickly and such beautiful breasts. Shit—he had to get them out of his mind.
He was just bored and restless. He’d been here for two weeks, and already he hated the sensation of being trapped, smothered. The familiar need to move on, to escape, nagged at his mind, affecting his work; he hadn’t written anything worth a damn since he’d arrived.
He found Dani seated on the terrace, wearing what appeared to be a pair of pajamas. What woman wore pajamas? And why did it turn him on?
A dark smudge marred one pale cheek, and she worked intently on something at the table. Her small, pink tongue poked from between her teeth in concentration, and Zach felt an unexpected stab of lust. He closed his eyes for a moment to savor the feeling then stepped out of the shadows.
Dani glanced up. “Who’s there?”
“The man of your dreams, sweetheart.”
Their gazes locked for long moments and warmth sank low in his body, heating his blood. Was she feeling the same?
She gave herself a little shake and broke the contact. “Oh, it’s you.” Obviously not feeling the same, then. She hardly sounded impressed, and her green eyes were hostile. “Can I do something for you, Mr. Hunter?”
“You can call me Zach for a start.”
She held his gaze. “I don’t think so.”
He studied her. “Are you always this…” He paused, searching for a suitable word. “Antagonistic?”
“Yes.” Then she thought for a moment and her lips curved into a faint smile. “But the funny thing is—normally I have to work at it. With you it seems to come naturally.”
He shook his head. “Why the hell would you want to work at being a pain in the ass?”
“Well,” she said, “when I first joined up, Jake told me—Jake was a lieutenant in my unit—that if I wanted to survive in the army, I was going to have to develop some attitude. I don’t think he thought I had a lot else going for me. I was pretty small and scrawny back then.”
“Really?” Zach drawled. “What’s changed?”
Dani scowled, and then huffed out her breath. “Absolutely nothing.”
As she returned to her task, he rested against the balustrade and watched her. “What are you doing?”
“Cleaning my gun.”
His gaze shot to the thing in her hands. “Your gun?”
“You know, one of those things that go bang.”
“You carry a gun?”
“Well, not as a general rule,” she said. “But Gary insisted. It’s company policy for protection cases like yours.”
“I thought we’d already established that you wouldn’t actually be protecting me.”
“Company policy. But don’t worry, Mr. Hunter,” she said gently. “I’ve been in the army for ten years. I know how to handle a gun, and I’m not likely to shoot you by accident.” She grinned. “Now, on purpose…”
“I find the sight of a gun in a woman’s hands disturbing…unless it’s some sort of role playing. You want me to star in a few of your fantasies, Dani? Hold me at gunpoint, force me to strip, have your evil way with me?”
“I’ll pass, thanks.” She curled her upper lip in a snarl, no doubt fantasizing about putting a bullet in him where it would hurt the most. “And I’m guessing the reason you don’t like women with guns is there are so many of them who want to shoot you.” She studied him for a minute, her brows drawing together. “Are you always this sexist?”
He grinned. “Yes. I have four older sisters and a meddling mother—it comes with the territory. So, why are you out here, in the night, playing with your gun?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“Too busy thinking of me?”
“Hardly,” she replied. “Look, it’s late. What is it you actually want?”
He gave her a long, slow stare and even in the dim light, he could see the flush of blood under her pale skin. She wasn’t as unaffected as she pretended. He liked that.
He leaned in close. “I just wanted to say”—reaching out, he smoothed a stray curl behind her ear—“that I like the red hair and the freckles.” Then he gave in to the urge and kissed her lightly on her lips.
She blinked a couple of times, shook her head, then rose to her feet and stared at him, the gun still clasped in her hand. “What the hell was that for?”
“First kiss,” he replied. “I thought we’d get it out of the way. So we don’t have to worry about it, and the next one will be much easier.”
“Next one? Not in this life.”
He hadn’t meant to touch her tonight. Something warned him to move slowly if he wanted to get close to her. But that brief sweet caress wasn’t enough. He wanted to kiss her until she begged him for more. He took a step closer, then another as she inched back. She was up against the balustrade now, with nowhere left to go. A pulse fluttered in her throat, and lower, he could see the rise and fall of her breasts beneath the thin cotton.
He waited for her to tell him to get lost.
When she remained silent, he slid one hand behind her neck and tilted her face. Her eyes were wide open, and he held her gaze as he lowered his mouth to hers. This time he lingered, sliding his tongue along her plump lower lip, nipping her with his teeth, pushing inside as her lips parted. She was warm and tasted sweet.
Heat pooled in his groin, his cock hardening in his pants. He deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue inside as his body pressed against hers, his erection nudging her belly. His free hand came up to cup her breast. She filled his palm, firm yet soft, and the nipple hardened, sending the rest of his blood supply to his dick. He wanted to strip her, turn her around, bend her over the chair, and…