Willing. Lucy Monroe

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      Daniel relaxed against the overstuffed sofa back. Josie was still sleeping, and he’d decided to skim the earlier journals, hoping they held some clue because he’d found nothing in Tyler’s most recent one. So far all he’d accomplished was to get a pretty good picture of Josie’s childhood.

      When she had said she’d had no choice but to become a soldier, he’d thought she meant her dad had pushed her into it, but it had been a lot more concrete than that. Her choice had been made when she wasn’t even old enough to give up playing with dolls.

      Tyler McCall had started training his daughter in combat at the tender age of six. The same year her mother died. Some would say the man’s mind had finally snapped, and they might be right, but there was no denying he’d had his reasons for raising his daughter the way he did.

      Tyler had seen things in Vietnam that would make any man leery of raising a child, particularly a daughter, in today’s world.

      A furious yell hit his eardrums and cut his musings mid-thought.

      Chapter 4

      Daniel met Josie halfway down her hallway, his blood pumping with combat-ready adrenaline, but he could see no threat.

      Unless he counted the small, barefoot woman vibrating with rage, her green eyes shooting retribution fire at him. “I am not a demon!”

      “I’m glad to hear it.”

      The growl that emanated from her throat would have done a grizzly bear proud. She was royally pissed, and apparently he was the reason.

      Rather than being concerned about that salient fact, it was all he could do not to drag her body against his and kiss her until he didn’t know his own name anymore. She turned him on in pretty much any mood. However, passionate anger was too close to passionate desire not to impact his hormones like a freight train running full steam ahead without a brake.

      Not to mention her clothes, or lack thereof. If she normally slept in tiny T-shirts and short shorts like the pink ones she had on, he was going to expire from lust his first night in her place just thinking about it.

      From the murderous expression on her pixielike face, he guessed she wasn’t on the same wavelength as he was at all.

      She smacked his shoulder with her open palm. Hard. “Nor did I attempt to seduce you!”

      “Uh, Josie…Are you all right?” Maybe she had a little of her dad’s paranoia. Or a bad dream?

      “No, I am not all right.” She was back to shouting again, but when she went to hit him a second time, he moved to restrain her and found himself on his back with her knee in his chest and her furious face above his. “I’m mad.”

      He didn’t like her getting the better of him, and he reversed their positions, his hands clamping her wrists and his bigger body pinning hers to the hardwood floor. “I noticed, but why?”

      Her body felt perfect under his—toned, but soft and warm, too.

      “You called me a succubus!”

      “I did n—” Then he remembered. “I said clinging like a succubus.” Not that the semantics appreciably changed the meaning and he’d clearly made a mistake letting his temper control his tongue, even briefly, but a man could try.

      “I wasn’t clinging at all,” she snarled.

      “No. You weren’t.”

      She didn’t look in the least mollified by his agreement.

      “I apologized already,” he reminded her.

      She glared up at him, her body tense beneath his. “That was before I knew what succubus meant. A two-word apology and instructions to just forget about it don’t cut it now.”

      She twisted unexpectedly under him, and he had to maneuver his hips between her legs to keep her flat. In her current frame of mind, there was no saying what she might do, and she was capable of doing a lot. But the new position was torture to his already excited body.

      His pants and her shorts were no barrier to the heat of her pressing against the hardness of him. Making love to her would be like taking a trip to the sun.

      She bucked, sending his temperature spiking. “Get off me, you cretin.”

      He had to keep this light. If he didn’t, he was going to lose control, and that was an unacceptable alternative. “See, that’s the second time you’ve called me that, and you don’t see me having a temper tantrum because you’ve questioned my intelligence.”

      “Cretin also means vulgar, and calling me a demon intent on seducing you in your sleep falls in that category, or didn’t you realize that?” she asked far too sweetly, her gaze still as sharp as his throwing knife.

      “It’s still a hurtful thing to call a person.”

      She laughed, the sound far from humorous, her expression one of angry mockery. “An exploding grenade under your pillow couldn’t hurt you.”

      Maybe not, but a hundred and twenty pounds of female flesh under him was doing major damage to his nerve centers. His sex ached, and it was only going to get worse if he stayed where he was. A glutton for punishment, he didn’t move.

      “The point is, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

      She СКАЧАТЬ