Why did he have to be so darn nice? He was making her like him more than she should. He was making her think of him as warm and caring. That, combined with how hot he looked in jeans or in a suit, not to mention the tango her hormones performed every time he was within spitting distance, was enough to make her crazy. And dangerously vulnerable.

Jeff couldn't be a part of her life. He was too different. He was scary, although even as she said the words, she didn't believe them. Not anymore. But while she might have changed her opinion about him, one thing had stayed exactly the same. He was dangerous to her plans for the future. She wanted love and she had a bad feeling that Jeff's heart had died a long time ago.


* * *

It was well after midnight when Ashley awakened. She couldn't say what had startled her from sleep. The house was silent, and when she got up to check on her daughter, Maggie was sleeping peacefully in her bed and holding her new stuffed cat in her arms. Ashley told herself it had been nothing and that she should just go back to bed, but something compelled her to pick up her robe and head for the stairs.

"Oh, right. Like I'm going to check all the windows and doors," she muttered softly to herself as she walked onto the main floor.

Jeff's house was a fortress. She didn't understand his complex security system, and she knew that everything was safe. Even so she had to see for herself.

She checked the kitchen and Jeff's study, then headed to the front of the house. As she crossed by the living room, she saw a shadow by the window. Her mind froze, but her heart recognized. The nanosecond of fear faded.

Jeff.

He was looking out into the darkness, studying the night, or perhaps staring into a past that she couldn't begin to imagine.

He wore jeans and nothing else. His back was broad, his skin smooth. Muscles rippled and bunched as he shifted slightly. She felt her mouth water, something that had never occurred while she'd been looking at a man. Chocolate, sure. There was nothing like the smell of the confection to get her salivary glands all excited, but she hadn't noticed the same man-generated effect until this moment.

She had the strongest impulse to cross the room and touch him. To stroke his bare skin, to press her mouth to his shoulder and taste him. A shiver rippled through her. It was just hormones, she told herself. She was in the middle of her cycle, so biologically she was predisposed to want sex. Mother Nature at work. But her desire didn't mean anything-not in the real sense of the word. It was interesting information she wasn't about to act on.

"I'm sorry I woke you."

Jeff's voice cut through the night, startling her. She hadn't realized he knew she was there. "No. You didn't. I just…" She couldn't explain how she'd come to be awake. "Sometimes I'm compelled to cruise through the house, making sure things are the way they should be. What's your excuse for being awake at this indecent hour?"

She'd made the comment lightly, but when he didn't instantly answer, she realized she might have crossed over some invisible line in their relationship.

"Sorry," she said quickly. "I was making conversation, not prying. You don't have to answer that."

"I don't mind." His voice was low and hoarse-as if speaking were difficult for him. "I have a recurring dream. It wakes me up and it's a while before I can get back to sleep."

She suspected his dreams weren't anything like hers in which she found out she had a final exam in a class she'd never attended or was supposed to pick up her daughter but suddenly couldn't remember the address of the preschool.

"Want to talk about it? Sometimes that helps." She made the offer without thinking, then thought about retracting it. After all, did she really want to know the deep dark secrets trapped in Jeff's subconscious?

He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. He still stood with his back to her. "I-" He cleared his throat. "There's a village. It's on fire. As I walk through it, I realize the people there are more frightened of me than of the destruction of the flames."

Ashley listened to the stark words as he told her what happened. She took a step toward him, visualizing the running children, hearing their cries of pain and fear. Her breath caught when he told her what he saw in the reflection of the shallow pool.

Not human? Is that what he really thought?

"No, Jeff," she said, moving closer still. "I'll admit that you're a little intimidating, and until I got to know you I thought you were a little scary, but I never saw you as other than a man. And Maggie's adored you from the beginning."

"She's very special."

"So are you," she told him. "You're not the easiest guy to get to know, but you have many wonderful qualities."

He glanced at her over his shoulder. "My ex-wife, Nicole, wouldn't agree."

"Then she's wrong."

He still faced the window. The room was too dark for her to see his reflection clearly, but she could see the shadow. He shook his head.

"Nicole saw the truth," he said slowly. "She knew what I was. She said she was glad we never had children together. She told me that the reason I couldn't have a baby wasn't because of my low sperm count but because I wasn't human anymore. I'd become a soldier and in the process, I'd forgotten how to be just a man."

"No," Ashley breathed, as she instinctively reached out and rested her fingers on his bare shoulder. "No, that's not true at all. You're just as human as the rest of us. Just as-"

Without warning, he spun to face her and grabbed her hand. His touch was strong and firm, but not bruising.

"Don't touch me," he growled. "Don't start something you can't finish."

For a second she thought she'd violated some fighter code. That touching him made him think he was being threatened and put her in danger. But then she noticed that he hadn't released her fingers and was instead rubbing them with his own. There was something sensual about the caress. Something that made her bones start to melt.

"Jeff?"

He stared at her and she wondered how she could have ever thought of his eyes as cold. They weren't cold at all. Instead fire raged in them. Fire and need and a hunger that made her lick her lips in anticipation.

She might not have a whole lot of experience with men, but she recognized the powerful desire ripping through him. He was a barely controlled, sexually ready male.

She should have turned and run for the hills. Or at the very least, her own bedroom. Wasn't there a lock on the door? Wouldn't she be safe there?

Except she found she didn't want to be safe. Not when the alternative was being held in Jeff's arms. She felt her own body flaring to life. Needs long denied awoke and stretched, making her ache.

Slowly, very slowly so he could know what she was about to do, she reached toward him with her free hand and placed her fingers on his chest. She felt warm skin, cool, crinkly hair and a faint tremor.

He swore and clutched her shoulders. "Ashley." The way he said her name made her want to purr. There was desperation in his voice, and a hunger that cried out from the soul. She raised herself on her toes and pressed her lips to his.

"I have every intention of finishing this," she murmured against his mouth. "So what are you waiting for?"

Chapter 9

Ashley should have known that she would be in no way prepared for his kiss. Jeff's strong arms came around her and he pulled her against him. She'd barely absorbed the feel of his rock-hard body, so unyielding against her own, when his lips claimed hers in a moment of possessive need that robbed her of all will.

He didn't explore or ask or hesitate. Instead he pressed his mouth against hers as if his life depended on them kissing at that exact moment. His aggression should have frightened her, she thought hazily, except she felt that she needed him just as much. There wasn't any air in her lungs and he was her only source of life.

She parted for him instantly, not needing to be seduced, but instead wanting to be taken. She wanted to experience possession at Jeff's hands.

He was a man. She'd been with men before-she had the child to prove it. But no other man had kissed her in quite the same way. Maybe it was a soldier's attention to detail; maybe it was just good luck on her part. Because instead of accepting her silent invitation to invade her mouth, he continued to kiss her lips. He was aggressive and demanding, yet his barely suppressed violence left her feeling feminine and tender. He slowly explored her lips, making her shiver with anticipation.

Mouth on mouth, hands on body. Their breath became one. Finally, when he'd discovered her to his satisfaction, he finally stroked her bottom lip with his tongue. The damp heat made her knees tremble. She clutched at his shoulders, needing to anchor herself in a suddenly spinning universe.

Finally, when she was sure she couldn't take it anymore, he slipped into her mouth.

She gasped. If she'd had the breath or strength, she would have screamed. At the first stroke of his tongue against hers, fire ripped through her body. Her breasts swelled, and between her legs a sensation of heaviness and desire made her squirm.

He tasted completely masculine and perfectly of himself. He stroked her, teased her, discovered her. He was completely in control and she found that made her relax. There was no reason to worry about being awkward. Jeff wouldn't let her misstep. Lack of fear allowed anticipation to build. She raised herself on tiptoe so she could fit herself more fully to him, absorbing his strength. His large hands began to stroke up and down her back.