Whatever It Takes by Dixie Lee Brown Page B

history . . . or lack of one. Yet he’d answered every question she’d presented.
    His openness in sharing his life with her had forged a connection from which respect had grown. Maybe it was the wine, and she would wake up tomorrow just as paranoid and filled with distrust as she had always been. She hoped not, because she liked Nate . . . a lot. Maybe too much.
    They’d started out pretending they were married, but sometime during the evening, the pretense had dropped away, at least on her part, and they became just two ­people getting to know each other. His hand brushing hers . . . his eyes overflowing with curiosity and laughter filled her near to bursting with some emotion she couldn’t name. For the first time in her life, she wanted more.
    T HERE WERE CERTAIN things a guy didn’t do. He didn’t sleep with his best friend’s sister. He didn’t take just any girl home to his mother, and he didn’t get involved with his partner. For the time being, Alex Morgan was his partner, and the fact that Nate couldn’t get her shapely form and sultry smile out of his head was disconcerting to say the least.
    “White or red?” Alex stood in front of the wine section of the small market they’d found on their way out of town after leaving the restaurant. She glanced over her shoulder.
    “Huh? What?” Nate was far more interested in how her enticing ass filled out her jeans than in what she’d just said. Unfortunately, the exasperated pout of her lips and the way she wagged her head from side to side as she jammed her hands on her hips was a dead giveaway that she’d seen him ogling her.
    Instead of grumping at him, however, she smiled patiently, her gold-­flecked eyes studying him with languid enjoyment, and his persistent hard-­on twitched in response.
    “Pay attention, Nate. We’re almost done. White or red wine?”
    He groaned. He was beginning to enjoy playing house with this woman a little too much, and she wasn’t making it any easier to turn away. On the contrary, Alex had been a pleasure to have dinner with, an intelligent and stimulating conversationalist. It had stroked his ego to see her so interested in what he had to say, and he’d enjoyed their verbal sparring. He’d let her lead the conversation even though he’d been dying to learn about her. Maybe she would never talk to him about her past. Maybe to her, this was just a scene from a play.
    A growl reverberated through him, and he stepped up behind her, locked his arms around her waist, and buried his face in her neck. “I don’t care. You pick. Or get one of each.”
    Alex leaned her head back against his chest. “Okay, but this will go faster if you actually help.”
    “I am helping.” Nate trailed a line of kisses up her neck until his lips found her ear, and she trembled in his arms. She was so damn sexy, and she didn’t even realize it, which made her all the more desirable.
    Another growl started low in his throat. What the hell was he doing? She was only acting—­playing a role. That’s what they were both supposed to be doing. He couldn’t pinpoint the moment when he stopped pretending, but it was probably around the time Diego had threatened her, and she’d reacted with a serene indifference. Nate had been furious, fully intending to rip the guy’s head off, and all because Diego had been stupid enough to threaten Alex—­his Alex.
    That kind of thinking was bound to get him in trouble. He released her as she grabbed a bottle of Riesling and a Merlot and set them in their cart.
    She placed a hand on his arm like a dutiful wife. “We’ve got coffee, bacon and eggs for breakfast, bread and lunchmeat for sandwiches, chips, fruit, hot dogs and buns, frozen pizza. What else do we need?”
    Nate thought for a second. “Beer. Bottled water. Mustard . . . and cookies.”
    The sparkle in her eyes teased him.
    “What? I like cookies. I also need some fishing line and bait.”
    “Do you think we could get some