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ALLISON

T heir eyes meet, recognition crossing over his features. She moves toward him.

“Allison?” The man’s deep baritone voice sends a shiver down her spine. Her steps falter when her nipples suddenly peak and goosebumps erupt on her skin. Why is her body reacting so strongly to a complete stranger saying her name?

It’s been too long since she’s had a good tumble between the sheets or even taken care of herself. Yep, that’s definitely why. “Allison Simpson?”

“Yes, I’m Allison. Who are you?” Allison gives the man a hard appraisal. Her eyes raking over him, head to toes. He is taller than her. He must be about six foot with sandy blond hair that is cut in a military style. Bulging biceps ripple when he lowers the sign. Broad chest muscles strain against his t-shirt, and his cargo pants cling nicely to very thick thighs.

An image of them flexing and contracting as he fucks her pops into her head. Say what?? Pushing that thought from her mind, her eyes drift lower noticing he is wearing combat boots. Obviously, he is one of Emma’s fiancé’s friends. She lifts her eyes to find him smiling like the cat that just caught the canary.

“You like what you see, sugar?” His voice again sends shivers to inappropriate places.

“You wish, ogre,” she sasses. “Are you going to answer my question?” She cocks her hip to one side, planting her feet. She has never had an instant attraction to a man before. It’s a whole new experience for her, and she can’t decide if she likes it or not. “Well?” she demands again. The man has just been staring without saying a word.

“I’m Worm. I work with Wallace, Emma’s man,” he replies at last, still grinning like a fool. He knows how he is affecting her. It’s infuriating as hell, grating on her last nerve. She wants to say, ‘go fuck yourself’, but that would let him in on the highly inappropriate ideas that have been running through her mind since first she laid eyes on him.

“Worm? Seriously? What kind of name is that?” Allison asks with more disdain in her tone than she intended. His smile disappears, a frown forming on his face. Instantly, she feels guilty. Her snarky side, not her best feature, has emerged from the combined shock of meeting him and lack of sleep.

“My name is Russell Chapman. Worm’s my nickname,” he says, testily. “Look, I’m here to take you to the resort. We need to get a move on. It’s a long drive and Emma is expecting us for dinner. I’m sure you would like some time to recoup from your trip before it starts.” Russell grabs the bag she has thrown over her shoulder and turns away placing it in the back of a large, black SUV.

The irritation in his voice stabs her in the heart. She isn’t a total bitch. At least she doesn’t want to be. He is just doing what was asked of him. It isn’t like he got to pick his nickname. She doesn’t know a lot about the military, but she does know that much. She needs to fix this. For some insane reason, she doesn’t want him to be upset with her.

“Hey, Russell, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be such a bitch,” Allison says, walking to the back of the vehicle. “It’s no excuse, but I’m pushing thirty-something hours since I’ve slept. I intended to sleep on the plane, but some kid kept kicking my seat. Then, there’s the fact I absolutely hate weddings, but I couldn’t let Emma down. She and I are like sisters. Plus, Emma didn’t tell me someone would be meeting me. I was caught off guard. Forgive me?” Allison paints on her sweetest smile, fluttering her lashes.

Russell turns, appraising her. His eyes bore into her for so long Allison begins to think he isn’t going to forgive her. Then, he gives her a thousand-watt smile, setting her body ablaze again.

“All right, sugar. I’ll forgive you this time. You can make it up to me later,” he says suggestively, waggling his eyebrows. Allison laughs and rolls her eyes. This guy is going to be serious trouble. He is arrogant as hell, but there’s a sweetness to him at the same time. In Allison’s experience that spells a special kind of disaster.

“Is that yours?” Allison looks to see him pointing at her hot pink suitcase sitting next to her on the ground. She nods. Russell raises an eyebrow.

“What? You got a problem with my suitcase?” She snarks.

Russell laughs, shaking his head. “No problem, sugar. It’s just…bright.” His laugh does delicious things to her lady parts. A dampness forms between her thighs. Her clit throbbing. She shifts on her feet, effectively rubbing her thighs together in an effort to calm the raging desire.

She is definitely in trouble with this guy. Hopefully, once they reach the resort, she won’t have to be around him too much. She doesn’t have time for a distraction. She takes in her suitcase. It does kind of glow, but she likes that about it. Makes it easy to find in baggage claim.

“Sorry, not sorry,” Allison sasses, trying to hide her attraction to him. “I happen to like it.” Russell gives her an assessing look from head to toes and back again.

“Hmmm, I like it, too,” he drawls. His eyes coming up to meet hers. “Come on, sugar. We better get going.” Russell grabs her suitcase and places it in the back of the SUV with her other bag. Then, much to her surprise, he takes her by the hand.

Immediately, a shock runs from their joined hands up her arm and into her chest. She can hardly breathe from the intensity of the moment. It’s like something monumental just happened, but she doesn’t have time to process it. He leads her to the passenger side of his vehicle. She should pull her hand away, but she can’t seem to force herself to do so. His large hand completely surrounds her much smaller one. It just feels so right.

He opens the door for her. “Wait!” She stops him from helping her into the large vehicle. “I need to get something out of my suitcase. I’ll be right back.” Frowning, he presses a button on his key fob. The back opens up. She grabs her suitcase, pulling out the items she needs. She makes a quick change before returning to Russell who is waiting patiently by her door. She adjusts the collar on her jacket as she reaches his side.

Fast as lightning, Russell grabs her by the waist, lifting her into the passenger seat. He buckles the seatbelt around her. Her face is marred with surprise. Closing her door with a smirk on his face, he rounds the SUV, and climbs into the driver’s seat. The engine roars to life. He checks his mirrors before easing out into traffic.

Allison watches while Russell skillfully maneuvers the large vehicle through the bumper-to-bumper traffic. A sigh escapes her when she contemplates what this week will hold. She doesn’t want to spend a week chatting and making nice with her snooty cousins who are only interested in why she isn’t married yet. She is only thirty for God’s sake! She has plenty of time to marry and settle down, right?

She should have just promised to attend the ceremony, not take part in the week-long bonding Emma wants to occur between her bridesmaids and the groomsmen. Emma wants them to all be one big, happy group of friends before the rest of their actual family arrives and the judging and criticizing begins, although it’s still going to happen.

Their cousins are almost as bad as their aunts. Allison doesn’t have time to be making nice with her cousins or making friends with strangers. She has an important case she is investigating. While she doesn’t have any new leads, she needs to be out looking for more information.

“So, Allison Simpson. What do you do for a living?” Russell asks, bringing her out of her musings. He glances at her, before focusing on the road again. He is constantly checking his mirrors and making adjustments in the distance between the cars in front of them. He is a cautious driver, that’s for sure.

“I’m a freelance investigative journalist,” Allison informs him, waiting for the questions to start.

“That must be an interesting career,” Russell responds. “What kinds of stories do you write?”

“I uncover things that shouldn’t be hidden,” Allison answers, cagily. Russell turns in her direction with a concerned look.

“That sounds evasively ominous,” he comments. Allison chuckles at his assessment. “And dangerous.” She glances over at him. His jaw is set in a rigid line.

“Sometimes,” she admits, “but it’s worth it.” He gives her a hard look before turning back to watch the road. She isn’t sure why, but she feels the need to defend herself. “I have made a difference in a lot of defenseless people’s lives. I’ve helped put criminals behind bars with my work, and I’m damn proud of it.” Russell spares her another peek with a nod of acknowledgement. “I’m sure your job is dangerous, too?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, “It can be at times, but I’m well trained and armed.”

“Who says I’m not armed?” Allison raises a brow in his direction.