body tense and ready to move if she aimed at him. “It’s Zach. You’re safe.”
She fumbled and turned her bedside light on. Her wide eyes registered him on the floor and she slumped. “What the fuck? I could have shot you.”
He stood. “My mistake.” He gently pulled the gun from her unresisting fingers and laid it on her night table. “I shouldn’t have loomed over you while waking you.”
She scooted back, resting against the headboard. “You hardly loomed.” Again she defended him from himself. It made him smile. Her hair hung loose around her, like a fiery shawl. And the black tank top she wore made him want to touch the creamy skin it revealed. She took a moment to straighten her blankets over her legs. “I had a nightmare, didn’t I?”
He nodded. “Do you have them often?”
“What are you doing here so late? It’s three in the morning.”
He let her change the subject. Now it was his turn to be sheepish. “I was outside your door.”
She frowned. “All night?”
“I didn’t want you to be alone.”
The play of emotions over her face surprised him. Shock and irritation were the most prominent, but the fleeting glimpse of hunger was the one that fascinated him. He shifted closer. Her eyes tracked his movement and her tongue darted out to touch her bottom lip. He sucked in a breath as need shot through him. The memory of their kiss on the street burned him. He wanted to dig his fingers into the fire of her hair and lose himself in those lips.
But the vulnerability in her eyes stopped him, and he held himself back. She didn’t need to deal with him after the night she’d had, so he pulled the covers higher up and tucked them around her before standing.
“You’re good?” he asked.
She nodded, her gray gaze almost sad as he moved to leave her room.
“You’re not going home, are you?” she asked, not hiding the irritation lacing her voice.
He smiled, glad to see her spirit already back. He found he didn’t like to see her quiet and sad. “No,” he said. “Not until you get your door fixed.”
“You might as well use the couch. There’s spare blankets in the hall closet,” she said. She flicked off her light and rolled over, dismissing him. “Oh, and I don’t like talking much until I’ve had coffee in the morning.”
He chuckled. “Thanks for the warning.”
He stopped when she called his name softly.
“Thanks,” she said.
“Good night, Firecracker.”
10
T he smell of coffee woke Alyssa the next morning. The previous evening’s events raced through her mind. She didn’t know what was worse: her apartment break-in, the fact that she’d kissed a member of her team, or that that member of the team was now in her apartment making coffee.
She buried her head under her pillow. Maybe she could just pretend to be asleep until he left. She groaned.
She’d never run from anything before, and she wouldn’t start now.
She dragged herself from bed and pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt before throwing her hair into a ponytail. She’d shower after she had some of that delicious-smelling coffee.
She stumbled into the main room to see Zach dominating it. He made the whole place seem smaller with his broad shoulders and formidable height. He’d removed his sweater and wore only a faded T-shirt and jeans, standing barefoot in her tiny kitchen.
He smiled at her as he handed her a cup of coffee. “Cream and sugar, right?”
She nodded and swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. Was this every woman’s fantasy or just hers, to be greeted in the morning by a smiling, gorgeous man bearing coffee?
She grunted something and took the cup.
He laughed. “You weren’t kidding about the coffee, were you?”
She had to turn from the sight of him or she’d be tempted to do something stupid, like jump on him and rip off that T-shirt to bare all those delectable muscles.
She plopped down on the couch and sipped the coffee.
Must find control.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I
She fumbled and turned her bedside light on. Her wide eyes registered him on the floor and she slumped. “What the fuck? I could have shot you.”
He stood. “My mistake.” He gently pulled the gun from her unresisting fingers and laid it on her night table. “I shouldn’t have loomed over you while waking you.”
She scooted back, resting against the headboard. “You hardly loomed.” Again she defended him from himself. It made him smile. Her hair hung loose around her, like a fiery shawl. And the black tank top she wore made him want to touch the creamy skin it revealed. She took a moment to straighten her blankets over her legs. “I had a nightmare, didn’t I?”
He nodded. “Do you have them often?”
“What are you doing here so late? It’s three in the morning.”
He let her change the subject. Now it was his turn to be sheepish. “I was outside your door.”
She frowned. “All night?”
“I didn’t want you to be alone.”
The play of emotions over her face surprised him. Shock and irritation were the most prominent, but the fleeting glimpse of hunger was the one that fascinated him. He shifted closer. Her eyes tracked his movement and her tongue darted out to touch her bottom lip. He sucked in a breath as need shot through him. The memory of their kiss on the street burned him. He wanted to dig his fingers into the fire of her hair and lose himself in those lips.
But the vulnerability in her eyes stopped him, and he held himself back. She didn’t need to deal with him after the night she’d had, so he pulled the covers higher up and tucked them around her before standing.
“You’re good?” he asked.
She nodded, her gray gaze almost sad as he moved to leave her room.
“You’re not going home, are you?” she asked, not hiding the irritation lacing her voice.
He smiled, glad to see her spirit already back. He found he didn’t like to see her quiet and sad. “No,” he said. “Not until you get your door fixed.”
“You might as well use the couch. There’s spare blankets in the hall closet,” she said. She flicked off her light and rolled over, dismissing him. “Oh, and I don’t like talking much until I’ve had coffee in the morning.”
He chuckled. “Thanks for the warning.”
He stopped when she called his name softly.
“Thanks,” she said.
“Good night, Firecracker.”
10
T he smell of coffee woke Alyssa the next morning. The previous evening’s events raced through her mind. She didn’t know what was worse: her apartment break-in, the fact that she’d kissed a member of her team, or that that member of the team was now in her apartment making coffee.
She buried her head under her pillow. Maybe she could just pretend to be asleep until he left. She groaned.
She’d never run from anything before, and she wouldn’t start now.
She dragged herself from bed and pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt before throwing her hair into a ponytail. She’d shower after she had some of that delicious-smelling coffee.
She stumbled into the main room to see Zach dominating it. He made the whole place seem smaller with his broad shoulders and formidable height. He’d removed his sweater and wore only a faded T-shirt and jeans, standing barefoot in her tiny kitchen.
He smiled at her as he handed her a cup of coffee. “Cream and sugar, right?”
She nodded and swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. Was this every woman’s fantasy or just hers, to be greeted in the morning by a smiling, gorgeous man bearing coffee?
She grunted something and took the cup.
He laughed. “You weren’t kidding about the coffee, were you?”
She had to turn from the sight of him or she’d be tempted to do something stupid, like jump on him and rip off that T-shirt to bare all those delectable muscles.
She plopped down on the couch and sipped the coffee.
Must find control.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I
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