Sweet Spot. Kimberly Kaye Terry

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      When Demetri was sure Gabrielle was gone, he opened his eyes and sat up in the bed, pushing the tangled silk sheets away from his body and throwing his legs over the side of the bed.

      Glancing over at the clock, he noted the time. Just barely dawn.

      As soon as she’d woken, he’d been aware of it, snapping out of sleep as soon as her even breaths of sleep changed.

      Both his former military special ops training, and his…unique…FBI training had been such that his sleep had become light. However, he’d been surprised that after their marathon sex session, he’d actually fallen into a deep enough sleep that she’d woken before him.

      He’d also been surprised when he’d wakened to find their limbs twined, with one of his hands cupping her mound and the other palming one of her breasts.

      He stared down at himself in disgust. His dick was still partially erect.

      He ran a hand over it, from stem to root, his thumb wiping away a gem of his pre-cum with absentminded attention.

      He needed to revise his plan.

      After last night, he realized that mere sex wasn’t going to cut it to get information from her.

      He hadn’t known anything about her, her bio was sketchy, and he’d only gone on instinct on how to approach the mission. His gut was telling him she was different. That she wasn’t just some low-down scam artist. That she was unlike the crooks he used to deal with on a regular basis, that she and her partner—Adam Quick—weren’t cut from the same cloth.

      Something wasn’t right with the picture.

      He bounded from the bed, and walked, naked, through the loft until he reached the room he’d designated as his office.

      He sat down in the large leather chair, touched the keypad on his computer, and watched it flare to life. He clicked on an icon on his control panel and keyed in a series of numbers and symbols until he gained access to what he needed.

      He shook his head. Hacking into government systems that were supposed to be hackproof was too damn easy.

      His natural cynicism returned as he typed in her name and seconds later his eyes scanned the information on his screen looking for something, anything that might have been missed, something that would clue him in to the woman she really was.

      She may not be the same as Adam, her motivation may be different…but she was nobody’s innocent.

      He’d find out what her motivation was, and after that he’d get the information he needed.

      He rose and grabbed a pair of shorts and stepped into them before settling down at his desk. He touched the screen and quickly typed in his password and logged on.

      His former superior had briefed him on what the department knew about Gabrielle and her partner. What he was searching for now was information on her family members, something about which the intel he’d been given had been sketchy at best. What he did know was that she’d been taken from her mother, due to her mother being an addict and unfit to care for Gabrielle. As a young girl, she’d gone into the system.

      And once in the system, a person’s information was always there. He just had to pick apart what was available to ferret out anything useful.

      He’d already learned more about Gabrielle’s personal life than what his superior had briefed him on. The department didn’t know about her mother, or Nick hadn’t let on what he knew, afraid Demetri would allow it to interfere with his investigation of the woman, afraid he’d feel sympathy for her.

      Demetri shook his head as his fingers flew over the keyboard, going in and out of various search engines, private ones as well as government- and military-operated, searching for more information on Gabrielle Marlowe.

      “Damn, that doesn’t make any sense. Nick knows I’m a professional. Wouldn’t allow my own feelings to interfere with my investigation,” he murmured. “Something’s missing. Something with her mother? Shit…” he continued his search, talking out loud as he typed in her mother’s name.

      After searching for over an hour, he came up with several references to Gabrielle Marlowe, but it was for the woman he was investigating, and not her mother. It seemed Gabrielle was quite the community activist, volunteering for various organizations helping the homeless and advocating for Medicare and Medicaid reform.

      None of her extracurricular activities had been added to the bio he’d been given. Again, he wondered why.

      None of it made any damn sense, Demetri thought in frustration. It didn’t add up. Nothing he’d learned from her so far. She volunteered and advocated for disenfranchised folks.

      And ripped off the government at the same time.

      And after one night with her, his knew she wasn’t a heartless criminal out to make a quick buck, no matter how hard he tried to deny it.

      “Shit,” Demetri rubbed the back of his stiff neck, rotating it to massage out the kinks. With a tired sigh, he stood and pushed back from his chair.

      He knew where she worked, where she lived. But he couldn’t go to her.

      All he could do now was chill, sit back, and wait for her to come back to him. And hope that she wouldn’t wait long.

      Waiting wasn’t a concept Demetri mastered very well when on the hunt, he thought, a wicked smile stretching his mouth wide in anticipation.