Close Contact. Lori Foster

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      Sympathy crept into his expression and tone. “That could explain why, after you were drugged, you were only moved outside and not actually hurt.”

      Her throat tightened at the possibility, and she adamantly shook her head. “They wouldn’t scare me like that. This is just one of many battles that we’ve fought over the years.” They butted heads, her family got more fed up with her and she worked harder to hide her hurt. But they would never go this far.

      Clearly unconvinced, Miles said, “All right. You know them and I don’t. Just keep it in mind, okay?”

      Keep in mind that her own family would... No, she couldn’t believe it. To appease Miles, she said, “Sure. I’ll add it to my growing list of disturbing things to think about.”

      With regret, he whispered, “I’m sorry you’re going through all this.”

      “On the upside, I’ve been too busy juggling problems to wallow in grief.” She tried for a smile, but it eluded her.

      “Grieving is important.” Miles slid his hand down her arm until he could twine his fingers with hers. “Maybe while I’m helping out, you could slow down and take the time to feel.”

      Oh, she felt plenty around Miles. Too much. “We’ll see how it goes.” So far, she hadn’t wanted to think too much, not about losing her mom, not about losing her grandma and not about having her life turned upside down.

      His thumb brushed over her knuckles. “So now I know everything you have on your plate. Want to tell me what it has to do with avoiding me?”

      Even that simple touch from him did crazy things to her insides. Dropping her head back and closing her eyes, Maxi blew out a breath. “That first night I came to the bar...I just wanted to be me, you know? The person I was before I inherited a chunk of money and a farmhouse that needs a ton of work. I didn’t want to think about lost opportunities with my mother, or the new tension with my sister and brother. I didn’t want to dwell on how I’d once again completely misjudged a man. I wanted to escape for a while.”

      “With a one-night stand?”

      She opened her eyes to look at him. “That was the original plan, yes.”

      “I wasn’t judging,” he promised, picking up on her sudden antagonism. “Just trying to get a handle on things.”

      “Well...good.” She’d been judged enough lately.

      His mouth quirked in that crooked grin she loved so much. “I was the beneficiary of your ‘escape.’ There’s nothing about it that I regret.”

      He sounded so sincere, her hope rose. Twisting to face him, still very relaxed with her head resting back, Maxi whispered, “You mean that?”

      “Yeah, I do.” He squeezed her hand, then withdrew. “The only thing I regret is how it ended.”

      It kept coming back to that—not that she could blame him. “It didn’t exactly work out the way I’d planned either.”

      “No?”

      “I only wanted something for me, you know? My life was upside down, and I had so much to deal with, so many emotions pulling me in a dozen different directions. I wanted pure, hot sex—then I wanted to walk away with no strings attached. I had too many strings already.” And too many failures.

      “I trust you got the hot sex?”

      She grinned hugely. “Boy, that’s an understatement. You totally rocked my world.”

      Her words brought a heated look to his eyes that almost singed her.

      Softer now, she admitted, “I’d expected to have sex with a total stranger, and that’d be that. It was going to be my wicked splurge, my departure from reality.” As she searched his green-eyed gaze, her voice thickened. “Instead, I came back looking for you again.”

      With satisfaction, he whispered, “And then a third time.”

      “I knew if I let myself, I’d start a thing with you. But after striking out twice, it seemed really dumb to chance it, especially when I just plain didn’t have time or energy for it.”

      “By thing, you mean a relationship?”

      She nodded. After that third time, she’d felt not only physically hooked, but emotionally and romantically, too. That was dangerous.

      “You’re assuming that’s what I wanted?”

      “I wasn’t at all sure what you wanted. That last time, you were...well, I don’t want to say moody.”

      Brows flattening, he groused, “Yeah, please don’t.”

      His look of affront amused her. “You asked me so many questions, and you shared more of yourself, telling me that you might leave MMA and go into the bodyguard biz. The sex was just as phenomenal, but I was afraid we were getting too chatty.”

      “And getting chatty spooked you?” Miles shook his head. “Aw, babe, you’re nuts, you know that, right?”

      “Maybe.” Her family certainly thought so. “But for once, I thought I should be responsible and get my life in order. You saw the farmhouse. It was ten times worse when I first moved in. I’ve accomplished a lot in the time I’ve been there. I might’ve gotten more done if there weren’t so many strange things happening.” Her gaze moved over him. “Now I’m thankful you did tell me about your plans. Otherwise I’m not sure where I would’ve turned for help.”

      “You could have come to me either way.”

      Probably true. After all, as a professional fighter, Miles had the physical skills to handle most types of trouble. It continued to make her uncomfortable, knowing her departure from his life had angered him, so she did a topic switch. “I’m curious. You told me you were leaving MMA, but not why.”

      “I had my reasons.”

      She’d researched him online and knew he’d been a force to be reckoned with, a skilled fighter with a string of wins behind his name, respected by others in the industry, adored by rabid fans. Why would he have left all that?

      When he said nothing else, she asked, “The reasons are a secret?”

      His enigmatic gaze cut her way. “They have no bearing on me being your bodyguard.”

      “Whoa,” she said, holding up her hands as if in surrender. “I didn’t know it was a touchy subject. This is me backing off.”

      “And that,” Miles said, “is our cue to get moving if we want to have time left to get everything done.”

      But...she’d been leading up to something there...something like an invite to share her bed again!

      Soon as they’d started talking about it, she’d recalled all the ways he’d touched her, tasted her, the positions he’d favored, how frantic he’d made her feel—and then how fulfilled.

      Blast him, he had her craving him all over again.

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