She’s fighting to protect everything she cares about. He can’t resist a damsel in distress. But he has no idea how high the cost will be if they fail.
Clovis Honeybun is working undercover to catch an assassin targeting his uncle, Senator Brick Honeybun. But his search is waylaid when he spots a pretty woman being mistreated by a guy who looks a lot like his target. Going rogue on a dangerous hunch, Clovis plunges down a trail that might be the right direction but the wrong bad guy. Ultimately, Clovis discovers he could have to choose between saving the woman burrowing her way into his heart, or a man he’s loved and respected since he was old enough to crawl.
Hoping to pull his mind from thoughts of a naked Emma, he reached out and tugged the drapes open a couple of inches, giving himself a narrow strip through which he could keep an eye on the sidewalk.
He was still staring out the window, his mind swirling with lustful thoughts, when the bathroom door opened and Emma came out.
Clovis sucked air as he turned and found her wrapped only in a small white towel.
She blushed. “I…” She bit her lush bottom lip, seemingly unnerved beneath his stark, hungry stare. “I had to wash out my clothes and I couldn’t bear the thought of putting them back on wet.”
Clovis’s gaze locked desperately onto her face, terrified if he let it wander he’d fixate on her nicely rounded breasts and slender thighs like some kind of sexual predator. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to speak. “I brought dinner.”
Her gaze slid to the collection of foil bags and cans on the table. “A veritable bounty of vitamins and minerals.”
Clovis shrugged, desperately clutching his soda can until it crumpled between his fingers. “There are probably some minerals in the can. You could lick that…”
Her eyes widened and heat flared in his cheeks as his joke went awry. “I, ah.” Clovis shrugged. “It’s not much but it will keep us going for a while.”
She grinned. “I’m starving. Thanks for this.” Emma grabbed a package of peanut butter crackers and a bag of trail mix. She put her hand on the can of club soda and lifted a well-trimmed black brow in question.
“It’s yours,” Clovis responded.
“Thanks.” She turned and headed toward the double bed nearest the back wall. Clovis couldn’t stop himself from watching her tread lightly away, her pert little backside swaying enticingly.
He shifted in his chair, intensely uncomfortable.
She dropped her goodies onto the bedspread and slipped under the covers. Tucking the blanket up under her armpits, Emma ripped the crackers open and bit into one, her tongue coming out to sweep across her bee-stung lips.
Clovis surged out of his chair and strode toward the bathroom. He didn’t stop when she called his name, closing himself into the still-steamy room and unnecessarily locking the door.
Closing his eyes, he leaned against the door, taking deep breaths. The moist room smelled like flowers and clean woman. He tried not to picture her naked beneath the sheets. But the harder he tried, the more his traitorous mind framed the picture, giving it the most exquisite detail. He opened his eyes and turned toward the shower, impatient for the relief a cold shower would give him.
His gaze fell on a silky triangle of orange and yellow satin hanging over the shower bar. The tiny panties had a bright, yellow bow at the top, centered on a filmy strip of lace. “Good lord,” he muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face.
Next to the panties was a matching bra whose cups were cut low and comprised mostly of lace.
Her nipples would show right through that lace.
With a desperate groan, Clovis wrenched the shower curtain back and turned on the water. Weighting the temperature heavily toward cold, he decided it was going to be a long and painful night.
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USA Today Bestselling Author Sam Cheever writes romantic paranormal/fantasy and mystery/suspense, creating stories that celebrate the joy of love in all its forms. Known for writing great characters, snappy dialogue, and unique and exhilarating stories, Sam is the award-winning author of 50+ books and has been writing for over a decade under several noms de plume.