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Unless he kissed her, in which case civility would fly out the window, but he’d get a taste of her again…

Man. Was he out of his fucking mind?

Chay cleared his throat and stuck out his hand. She gave it the kind of look he’d seen guys give giant camel spiders in Afghanistan.

The twitch behind his fly died a quick death.

“It’s just a hand,” he said brusquely, and held it up, palm out. “No secret weapons. You’re safe.”

Bianca looked at the lieutenant.

Yes. She certainly was.

She knew it because she was not the kind of female he undoubtedly specialized in. The kind who would melt at his feet. She saw him for precisely what he was. A man who objectified women. Who collected them the way some men collected cars.

A man who brought out the absolute worst in her.

Her thoughts flew back to the fuss she’d made over ordering a simple glass of wine. And yes, being honest, she had to admit it had been a fuss.

True, she believed in organization. And in exercising control over her environment. But she’d gone overboard with the wine thing.

Why?

Was it because the lieutenant made her feel flustered?

She could see how he’d have that effect on some women. Women who might find him attractive…and, yes. She knew some might. Lots of women were drawn to bad boys. You didn’t need to be a candidate for a doctorate in psych to know that.

That face. The high cheekbones. Eyes so green they flashed like emeralds. That long, leanly muscled body. That low, slightly rough voice.

And that swagger.

He moved with a lazy grace. A lion on the hunt. Self-assured. In command.

And, Dio, the way he took what he wanted. That kiss he’d forced on her. What kind of man would do something so primitive?

A man like Chay Olivieri, a voice within her whispered.

Her gaze swept over him.

He had on a worn leather bomber jacket over a tight black T-shirt. Faded jeans that clung to his narrow hips and long legs. Scuffed boots. He looked tough and dangerous, and since she was not a woman attracted to bad boys, why did that make her heart skip a beat?

Not that what he wore dictated who he was.

The day he’d kissed her, he’d been wearing dress whites. He’d looked like the naval officer he was, but he’d behaved like a barbarian.

No warning. No lead-up. No polite moves at all.

He’d simply hauled her into his arms and kissed her. As if kissing her had been his right.

She’d been stunned. So stunned that it had taken her a few seconds to react. That was surely the only reason she hadn’t punched him in the belly or kneed him in the groin or shoved him away.

It couldn’t have been the feel of his strong arms around her, or the hardness of his body, or the silken feel of his mouth.

The hot, exciting, amazing feel of his mouth…

“Well?”

The sudden sound of his voice made her jump. She blinked and looked at him.