hand just wasn’t going to cut it for much longer.
He needed a woman and he needed one bad.
Gooseflesh raised on his arms as the room turned unseasonably cool. A moment later, the curtains fluttered. He stood to investigate but before he could work out the cause, a loud crash and a muffled yelp sounded from the balcony.
His heart bucked as a rush of adrenaline coursed through him. Sliding the glasses up his nose, he reached a hand behind his back, resting his palm lightly on the Glock nestled there. He considered drawing the weapon but dismissed the idea. Foolhardy maybe, but he’d worked too hard for too long establishing his cover and he wasn’t about to risk blowing it at the eleventh hour.
Alex got to the French doors just in time to see a slight woman with a riot of red curls tangled around her face hauling herself up, using his planter as an anchor.
He threw the door open and glared at the intruder, who’d finally righted herself.
“What the hell are you doing?” he snarled.
The redhead started in surprise, teetering. Panic flashed across her face as she pitched forward. He steeled himself but her momentum was too great and she slammed into him, knocking him off his feet. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her as they crashed to the floor. His lungs emptied with a whoosh as her full weight barreled into his solar plexus.
Shit.
9
Chloe Cole
“Crap,” the woman atop him muttered. She struggled to free herself from his grasp, but he wasn’t quite ready to let her go. If she did have bad intentions, he would be all but helpless until he got his breath back.
The darker part of him acknowledged that, bad intentions or no, it had been way too long since he’d had a woman wriggling on top of him. Her warm, soft curves molded against him in all the right places and he closed his eyes to gather some fortitude as he tried to hold her still.
A few seconds passed before he got his wind back. He sucked in a deep breath and was assailed by the scent of warm woman and buttery brown sugar. Instantly his cock stiffened.
Down, boy .
He rolled to his side, spilling her off him and onto the floor then jumped to his feet.
“Who are you and what were you doing on my balcony?” he demanded. He stared down at her, more puzzled by the second. “And why in God’s name do you have on a trench coat? It’s eighty degrees out.”
She struggled onto all fours then to her knees, peering up at him. A thatch of rust-colored curls had flopped forward, covering one side of her face and she blew them away with an exasperated huff. Her cheeks were flushed a pretty pink and she gnawed at her bottom lip. Not exactly the hallmarks of a serial killer or potential burglar, at least not from his experience. Some of the tension knotting his muscles released as his body got the signal that the “code red” had been downgraded to a code “What the fuck is going on here?”
The answer to that question hit him even as it formed in his mind—Saunders and Leeland. Those two were always looking for their next practical joke and apparently he was the mark this time.
He’d just been complaining to Saunders the other day about the job killing his sex life and now out of the blue, a cute redhead in a trench coat falls into his lap. Literally.
Talk about ammunition, he’d practically laid himself out on a silver platter.
10
Naughty Godmother
What didn’t sit right, though, was that they had engaged him at all. He was under deep cover and it was serious business. Even though things were coming to a close, he wouldn’t feel comfortable breaking character until the perps were picked up and all the evidence he’d collected was turned in to the authorities.
Dammit, he’d handpicked those two jackasses when he’d started the company and it burned him up that they didn’t know better. They’d always been a little immature, but they weren’t usually careless. First thing on tomorrow’s “to do” list was to make sure
He needed a woman and he needed one bad.
Gooseflesh raised on his arms as the room turned unseasonably cool. A moment later, the curtains fluttered. He stood to investigate but before he could work out the cause, a loud crash and a muffled yelp sounded from the balcony.
His heart bucked as a rush of adrenaline coursed through him. Sliding the glasses up his nose, he reached a hand behind his back, resting his palm lightly on the Glock nestled there. He considered drawing the weapon but dismissed the idea. Foolhardy maybe, but he’d worked too hard for too long establishing his cover and he wasn’t about to risk blowing it at the eleventh hour.
Alex got to the French doors just in time to see a slight woman with a riot of red curls tangled around her face hauling herself up, using his planter as an anchor.
He threw the door open and glared at the intruder, who’d finally righted herself.
“What the hell are you doing?” he snarled.
The redhead started in surprise, teetering. Panic flashed across her face as she pitched forward. He steeled himself but her momentum was too great and she slammed into him, knocking him off his feet. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her as they crashed to the floor. His lungs emptied with a whoosh as her full weight barreled into his solar plexus.
Shit.
9
Chloe Cole
“Crap,” the woman atop him muttered. She struggled to free herself from his grasp, but he wasn’t quite ready to let her go. If she did have bad intentions, he would be all but helpless until he got his breath back.
The darker part of him acknowledged that, bad intentions or no, it had been way too long since he’d had a woman wriggling on top of him. Her warm, soft curves molded against him in all the right places and he closed his eyes to gather some fortitude as he tried to hold her still.
A few seconds passed before he got his wind back. He sucked in a deep breath and was assailed by the scent of warm woman and buttery brown sugar. Instantly his cock stiffened.
Down, boy .
He rolled to his side, spilling her off him and onto the floor then jumped to his feet.
“Who are you and what were you doing on my balcony?” he demanded. He stared down at her, more puzzled by the second. “And why in God’s name do you have on a trench coat? It’s eighty degrees out.”
She struggled onto all fours then to her knees, peering up at him. A thatch of rust-colored curls had flopped forward, covering one side of her face and she blew them away with an exasperated huff. Her cheeks were flushed a pretty pink and she gnawed at her bottom lip. Not exactly the hallmarks of a serial killer or potential burglar, at least not from his experience. Some of the tension knotting his muscles released as his body got the signal that the “code red” had been downgraded to a code “What the fuck is going on here?”
The answer to that question hit him even as it formed in his mind—Saunders and Leeland. Those two were always looking for their next practical joke and apparently he was the mark this time.
He’d just been complaining to Saunders the other day about the job killing his sex life and now out of the blue, a cute redhead in a trench coat falls into his lap. Literally.
Talk about ammunition, he’d practically laid himself out on a silver platter.
10
Naughty Godmother
What didn’t sit right, though, was that they had engaged him at all. He was under deep cover and it was serious business. Even though things were coming to a close, he wouldn’t feel comfortable breaking character until the perps were picked up and all the evidence he’d collected was turned in to the authorities.
Dammit, he’d handpicked those two jackasses when he’d started the company and it burned him up that they didn’t know better. They’d always been a little immature, but they weren’t usually careless. First thing on tomorrow’s “to do” list was to make sure
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