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And that didn’t help, because it reminded him of last night and that big king-sized bed where she’d laid him down, told him to lie back and think of England, and then had her way with him.

Twice.

And what he’d thought about had not been the least bit British.

“I must be missing something,” she said, her gaze a little flinty on his. “Because you greatly resemble a coworker of mine who stood before me at oh five hundred hours—naked, but who’s counting—and told me that anything of a personal nature that might have happened between us had to stay in California. Was that you, Jonas?”

“Your cabin,” he managed to grit out. “It’s very... pink.”

And she matched it more by the second as the color in her cheeks deepened.

“That was a trick question. I know it was you.”

“And...fluffy.”

“There’s a reason I’ve never let any of you in here,” she snapped at him, trying to pull herself up into an imposing stature there against the door, but she was pink in the face and covered in a cloud andsoft. “I’m sure you have your own cabin done up to suit you, which I assume means a bed of nails, a selection of hair shirts, and a martyr’s pyre or two. With cold water and gruel as a treat.”

That was a little too close for comfort, but he couldn’t focus on that. Not now.

“Deep down, beneath the tough-as-nails Army Ranger, you’re... a pink-and-fluffy unicorn, Bethan.”

She vibrated away from the door. “Incorrect. I have always been a unicorn. That’s how Ibecamean Army Ranger. Some people relax with whiskey. I prefer fluffy pillows and a calming color palette. You can go now.”

Jonas could see her reach forindignant, because that was probably easier.

Anything was probably easier. But since when did either one of them do anything the easy way? He moved toward her, and he saw her startle at that, because she probably thought he really was leaving.

But instead, he trapped her there against her own door, carefully flattening a palm on either side of her head.

“I graciously allowed you to have your way with me this morning,” he said, and if he stepped back and thought about this, he would stop. So he didn’t.

He could see her pulse beat hard and fast in the crook of her neck. The scent of her was in his head again, warm and addictive and encouraging him to do all kinds of things he probably shouldn’t. And the look on her face, naked and needy, almost did him in.

“I’m not sure that I would use the wordgracious,” she countered, though her voice was soft.

“It’s unlikely that we’ll have that briefing beforetomorrow morning.” He bent, then, and traced her pulse with his tongue, pleased when it made her break out in goose bumps. Everywhere. “That’s a long, long while.”

“All night,” she agreed.

“I don’t remember our first long night,” he said gruffly. “Not in any detail.”

“Jonas,” she whispered, her voice strangled. And he knew it was because he was rarely the one to bring up that first night at all.

“We’ve had a lot of missions since then,” he said. He lifted his head from the temptation of her neck. “And then last night, which was hardly a night at all. The reception didn’t end until two.”

“I thought we did okay.”

“Tonight,” he murmured, his mouth so close to hers, “I’m going to take my time.”

He could see the questions in her eyes. They were in him, too. But he didn’t have the answers, and he was tired of looking.

All he had was this. The breath between them. The night stretching out before them.

And a soft, pretty cabin dressed in pink.

He found her mouth and somehow kept himself from letting all the wild need in him out at once.Play the long game, dumbass, he ordered himself.

Jonas tasted her as if she were a delicacy. He took his time, learning her mouth.