Sleeping With The Enemy

He stepped through the door without answering her question, or waiting for a response to his invitation that hovered close to an arrogant demand. He was gone. Just like that, she thought with a snap of her fingers. He tipped her world upside down then left her, alone and feeling achingly frustrated. From a kiss!

There was more. A whole lot more and it all zeroed in on her growing sexual attraction to the new guy in town.

HE’D VERY NEARLY BLOWN IT. God, he couldn’t believe he could be so careless. Not with an investigation as important as the Romine case. And especially not with a case as important to his continued employment with the Bureau.

He stood on the forty-yard line with Crawford and Harrison, each with their feet braced for impact, their backs to the sun and each holding a blocking dummy gripped tightly in their hands. A red Cougars ball cap helped to shield Chase’s eyes from the brightness of the evening sun, but nothing could alleviate the thick humidity, except maybe a good summer storm. Between the heat, humidity and thoughts of Dee, his concentration on the Cougars’ practice was no more effective than what he’d had on the investigation Saturday evening.

Dee hadn’t mentioned her schedule to him once throughout the time they’d spent together four nights ago, and he’d gone off feeling damned cocky just because she’d responded to him. He’d been lucky he hadn’t blown the whole operation. But he’d covered. He decided some distance would be in his favor so he tacked a note to her door the next afternoon, telling her something had come up and he’d have to give her a rain check on that meal he’d promised. Then after making certain all the surveillance equipment was in top working order, he’d taken off to a neighboring town to a motel for the night. It’d been a risky choice, but he didn’t think he had any other option. Obviously his instincts had paid off, because he hadn’t seen nor heard from Dee in the past four days. By the time they did meet up again, he suspected she’d probably have forgotten the incident. At least he hoped so.

He muttered a curse as he took a rough hit from Jimmy Sanders, a defensive lineman tipping the scales at two-twenty. “Watch it, Sanders,” he complained. “You put that head down again, I’m gonna put my cleat on your backside.”

Sanders spit out his mouthpiece. “Sorry, Coach.”

Chase braced himself for the hit by the next player. After the way Dee had been sending him more signals than a faulty traffic light, he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to feel, or do for that matter. What was he supposed to do when she kissed him like she wanted him? Wanted him as badly as he wanted her. He was a good agent, even if he wasn’t above taking risks, but he doubted even the director could keep his hands, or his mouth, off someone as delightfully sensual as Dee.

She’d gotten to him. There was no other explanation, no other excuse. She’d gotten to him good and driven him practically insane with her pretty mouth and witty conversation. Every ounce of his strength had been forcefully summoned in order for him to walk away from her when all he’d wanted to do was take that kiss one step further, and another, then another until they were both too sated and exhausted to move. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been affected so intensely by a sweet, dewy mouth capable of drawing out secrets he’d never shared with another living soul. What was a guy supposed to do when a perfectly matched pair of breasts were pressing against his chest or slim hips were cradled within his own so unconsciously and so naturally?

“Sanders, get your head up,” he yelled at Jimmy, who was charging straight for Crawford.

The defensive lineman hit the pad, head down. Chase swore and dropped his blocking dummy. Snagging Sanders by the face mask, he pulled the player toward him. He managed to shout a few oaths common on the football field, then threatened Sanders with a seat on the junior varsity bench for the season.

The kid started to say something, but Chase didn’t hear him. From out of nowhere, he took a direct hit. And that was the last thing he remembered before his world went dark.

“THIS IS RIDICULOUS. I’m fine.”

Dee offered Chase her best tolerant expression, the one she reserved for difficult patients, particularly the male population being as they were the ones more apt to complain about obeying doctor’s orders. Especially orders from a female doctor. Regardless of how great he kissed, Chase was a credit to his gender in the doctor/patient relationship area.

She slipped the otoscope back into the holder, before making a notation on the chart. “You were tackled, hit the ground and rendered unconscious.” She glanced up from the chart and graced him with a smile. “Be a good boy and let me do my job, Chase.”

He narrowed his gaze and glared at her from his seat on the edge of the exam table. “I’m fine.” The firmness of his voice held a determination that didn’t sway her in the least.

He probably was going to be perfectly fine, but she wasn’t about to take any chances. She never did when it came to her patients, and right now, Chase Bracken was her patient. “A CT scan will tell me if you’re fine or not. It’s just a precaution,” she added in the face of his deepening scowl.