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“Mission accomplished.”

“Let’s go to the balcony and talk. You want to get in the hot tub?”

“I don’t have a bathing suit.”

“Suddenly so modest?” He grinned. “Well, we can just enjoy the fresh air.”

I followed him across a grand living room toward a balcony bigger than my entire bedroom. “Wow, that’s quite a view.”

“I love waking up to this scene every morning,” he said.

“I bet. It’s incredible.”

As I scanned the skyline in the distance, I wondered how much he was paying for such a nice place. Thoughts of the smuggling operation—the story that had ruined my career—came rushing back.

We stood next to each other near the marble railing surrounding the balcony. He had his hand on the small of my back, making me feel at ease despite my nervousness.

“I’m sorry about kicking you out,” I said, looking at the street below.

“It’s okay.” His hand slid farther down my back before moving back up.

I shot him an agitated glance. “Is that the only reason you want me? My body?” I stared into his eyes, demanding the truth.

He didn’t look away, meeting my gaze with the same intensity. “It’s one reason,” he admitted before kissing me.

I pulled back, not wa

nting to rush things and end up having a repeat of last time. “Wait.” I put a defensive hand on my chest. “We should talk.”

Warren walked over to a metal table in middle of the balcony. “Talk about what?”

I followed and sat down across from him. “Everything. I’m just so confused. After I got back from Afghanistan, everything in my life fell apart.”

“And you weren’t even a soldier or there for long.”

“Right. I mean, I like you a lot, but I don’t want to bring you down.” I glanced away. “It seems you’re doing so well for yourself. I don’t want to mess that up for you.”

“But all of this means nothing without someone to share it with,” he said. “Besides…”

His voice trailed off and I wondered if he was hiding something. “Go on,” I urged. “I can be a good listener.”

“You’re working on another story, aren’t you?” He shook his head and chuckled.

“No, I’m not. I honestly care, Warren.”

He took a deep breath, looking out at the night sky, his brow furrowed.

What had him so tensed? My old journalistic curiosity threatened to take over for a moment.

“It’s in my past,” he said. “We all have checkered pasts, right? They make us who we are.”

“And who are you?”

“A man looking for a woman like you.”

“Just for fun? Physical only?”

“No, not only—but it’s a good place to start…”