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He stretched out beside her and she summoned the energy to roll against him, draping her leg and arm across his big heater of a body. She warmed quickly and made a sound of contentment as she nestled under his arm, her head on his shoulder.

The last words she heard before she passed out were, “Sleep, Piper. I’ve got you.”

6

Ian stared at the dark ceiling, listening the distant sporadic sounds of gunfire. What the hell was he doing? He never had meaningful sex with women.

He’d learned long ago that, if he didn’t kick the groupies to the curb immediately after the conclusion of sexual concourse, they interpreted being allowed to stay as practically a proposal of marriage. All the guys like him knew that groupies became stalkers at the drop of a hat.

He’d also learned a long time ago never to use the women he worked with as his dating pool. And, given that his work for the last decade had pretty much not included any women, it hadn’t been hard to abide by his long-standing rule.

Frankly, it felt strange to find a woman in his work environment. He came from a family full of boys. He’d mostly hung out with the guys on the football team in high school. In college, he’d hung out with his frat brothers. Then, into the military, and straight into the Special Forces.

Come to think of it, he’d never spent much time around women. Ever. Maybe that was why he was finding it impossible to actually sleep with one sprawled across him, now.

And this particular woman…he couldn’t seem to keep his damned hands off her. She was mesmerizing. So beautiful and sexy; all those miles of sleek legs and soft curves.

Not to mention, she could match him shot for shot with a handgun and a sniper rig—and then throw back shots of vodka like a pro, for God’s sake. How was he supposed to resist that?

She’d blown his cover completely to hell, and he couldn’t seem to generate even a smidgin of irritation at her for it. No question, he had it bad for Piper Roth.

He was going to have to leave Khartoum because of her, and his only regret was that he wasn’t going to see her again. Well, maybe that wasn’t entirely true. He deeply regretted the idea of not having hot sex with her, again.

She shifted against him, settling closer to his side, her head on his shoulder and her silky hair spread out over his chest. It was strangely comfortable. Who’d have guessed he could enjoy spending the night actually sleeping with a female? Bizarre.

In the midst of his newly discovered contentment, something dark wormed its way into his brain. He frowned up at the shadowed ceiling, struggling to put a name to it.

Fear. He was afraid of the way this woman made him feel.

Him. A hardened warrior, veteran of war zones from one corner of the globe to the other. Bloody terrified of a woman.

First thing in the morning, he was sending her on her way, and he was never looking back. Navy Intel would assign him to some other post on a far-flung continent, and he would get on with his regularly scheduled—female-free—life.

A plan in place, he closed his eyes and willed sleep to come.

He waited.

And waited.

Yeah, that wasn’t working.

He swore for a while in his head.

Fine. He would just lay here and enjoy the novel sensation of cuddling with a woman, then.

Tomorrow. She was out of here, tomorrow.

Piper woke up slowly, well-rested and blissfully content. The room was dim and cool, but the chest under her ear was warm.

Whoa. The chest? Her eyes popped fully open. The room spun a little and then settled, a garish seraglio of a bedroom took shape around her.

Right. Ian’s hidey hole.

Vodka.

The bathtub. Oh God, the bathtub.

And the sex.