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The hair rose on the back of Sophia’s neck. She looked up from the press release she was crafting for Congresswoman Chandler’s office on LAI’s school rehabilitation project outside of Kabul and nearly jumped a foot. “Geez! How does someone so big move so quietly?”
Lachlan had managed to slip into her office without her noticing.
“I’m going to Kabul on Monday.” He closed the door behind him with a soft snick and perched himself on the edge of her desk, legs stretched out in front of him.
“What? Why?” She came out from behind her desk to stand between his ankles. He had on a navy suit today with a white button-down—she wasn’t sure he owned any other color. His emerald and blue tie brought out the rich depths of green and gold in his eyes.
She glanced down at her dress. They matched. The color went well with her red hair, but that wasn’t why she’d plucked it out of her closet. It reminded her of him.
Prettywasn’t the right word to describe someone so masculine and dominant, but God had blessed Lachlan in the looks department. She resisted the urge to take another step forward until she was between his thighs and could lick the thin white scar on his chin on her way to those firm lips.
Business only, she reminded herself firmly.She’d agreed to reset the boundaries of their relationship to protect her heart, and she’d do well to remember that.
“There’s a new shipment of weapons arriving that I didn’t order. I want to be there to see who picks it up.”
“Are you sure that’s safe? What did you tell Jared?” She tugged on her lip, worrying it between her teeth. Lachlan was planning to confront the people working with Mohammad Razul Khan in Afghanistan, where the warlord had the home-field advantage.
“Only that I need to visit my teams to take care of something. He didn’t press for specifics,” he replied.
Maybe now was the time to tell him about Admiral Dane. She could arrange a meeting between the two men, plead Lachlan’s case, and convince the admiral to use his connections to prove Lachlan’s innocence.
Her stomach gave a violent lurch. Lachlan would be furious when he realized he’d been under suspicion all along, and she’d not only known it, she’d been tasked to find evidence against him.
“Are you worried about me? I assure you I can take care of myself.” Lachlan’s gaze darkened to a deep jade as it fixed on her mouth. One long leg bent, and before she knew it, he’d stood, the movement bringing his body flush with hers.
She let go of her lip, her breaths turning shallow as his warmth soaked into her skin in tendrils of desire. This close, she couldn’t help but breathe in his scent—lush pine forest and something uniquely male.
“In a week, this will be over, I promise.” His palm lifted to cradle her face, the calluses on the pads of his fingers a reminder that he was much more than some white-collar executive who’d gotten his muscles in the gym.
With a simple touch, he left her aching and needy.
She met his eyes. Hunger and possession flared in their emerald depths, and something else that drove the air from her lungs. The emotional barrier Lachlan had placed between them was gone.
Her body responded with a burst of liquid heat. Her breasts grew heavy, needing to be touched.
“I—I hope so.” She couldn’t think straight with him this close. Her lips felt dry, and her tongue darted out to moisten them.
The hints of gold around his pupils sparked. “I’m sorry,mo leannan.“ He whispered the apology into her ear.
She didn’t know whatmo-lannanmeant, but the sound rolling off his tongue in that Highland burr and his hot breath in her ear sent shivers of desire arrowing down her spine to gather between her thighs.
“For what?” The lack of oxygen in the room made her voice breathy. Her eyes drifted shut. She was edgy, restless, and could barely think. All she could do was feel.
“For not being the man you deserve.” He took her mouth, hard and possessive, his lips and tongue demanding.
Strong arms wrapped her. Lachlan tasted of mint and coffee, sex and sin. His long fingers palmed her breast, molding her to his hands before they sought out the sensitive tip.
Electricity shot straight to her core at the contact. She moaned into the kiss and rubbed against him with wanton abandon, forgetting where she was.
More. She needed more.
His mouth lifted. “Sophia, look at me.”
She gave a slight shake of her head in response. She didn’t want to look—she wanted to feel. His hand dropped away from her breast, and she reluctantly forced her lashes apart.
“Tell me to stop.” His features twisted as if in pain. “I’m not the kind of man you should want. If I don’t find out who is sending weapons to Khan using my division as cover, there is a very real possibility I could go to prison.”
Her heart gave a painful lurch at the torment in his voice. He might be right—he wasn’t the kind of man she should want. Yet, she couldn’t walk away. Beneath his veneer of control, a crack of vulnerability and pain in his eyes called to her.