Page 49 of Sasha’s Secret

“You could always clean up here.” She was sure he wouldn’t mind an audience—she could watch him for hours.

His shoulders lifted in a helpless shrug. “No clothes.”

“Who says you need them? If you feel awkward eating naked, I don’t mind joining you.” Sasha took the neckline of her top between her finger and thumb to make it clear she had absolutely no objection to sharing a naked breakfast with him.

Rocco took a step closer and brushed his mouth across hers. “If you do that, we may never get around to eating. Food, that is. And I still have work to do.”

The verbal equivalent of a splash of icy water curbed her libido. “Cruel man. Sure I can’t distract you a little?”

“I wouldn’t discount the possibility. As a matter of fact, I was going to ask you for some help anyway.”

“Oh. And if I… render this assistance, you’ll be through earlier than you thought?”

“There’s a strong possibility. What do you suggest we do after that?”

Sasha’s eyes narrowed. The man was impossible. He was deliberately teasing her. She’d show him. “Ever played strip poker?”

He leaned his elbow on the door frame at head height—his head, not hers—and leaned in a little closer. “Ever lost at strip poker?”

Sasha stood on tiptoe and gave him a chaste peck on the cheek. “Never,” she whispered in his ear.

A cool, confident smile appeared on Rocco’s face. “Challenge accepted.”

“And I’m sure you’ll—” she paused, glanced pointedly down at his groin, and adopted a sweet and innocent smile “—rise to it.”

This time he roared with laughter. “You can count on it. Let me clean up, and while we eat, I’ll ask you those questions. Is that okay?”

“Sure. I’ll go make a start on the batter.”

With a satisfied sigh, she watched him cover the distance to his apartment. Crazy though it was, she felt a lightness inside that had been missing for a long time. She was setting herself up for a colossal fall when he eventually left, but she couldn’t help it. Until he went, she was going to grab every chance that came her way to spend time with him, and go wherever the wild ride took her.

* * *

When Rocco had asked Sasha about the on-site firing range over breakfast, the last thing he’d expected was for her to retrieve a SIG Sauer from a safe in her bedroom, take him to the facility, and challenge him to a shooting match.

She was an amazing woman—and not only because of her ability with the handgun. Combine that with the pancakes with which she’d seduced him, and he was a goner. While Geri’s breakfast treats were obviously created by a consummate professional, Sasha’s had a homemade quality that made him think of the closeness of shared mornings and intimate glances that made words unnecessary.

The kind of details that characterized long-term relationships, not brief flings that sprang to life out of convenience.

Standing by the bench behind the shooting stalls, he watched Sasha stow the handgun in its case. Her hands moved with an economic familiarity and confidence he found enthralling. She closed the lid, spun the combination locks, and turned to face him.

“Rocco, now that you know what I was before I came to work for Linzi, and I’ve proved I can handle a gun, will you let me take a more active role in Linzi’s protection at the awards next week?”

Merda. She had to ask. Somehow, he’d known it was coming. “Sasha, you left the Agency for a reason. You told me you had no intention of going back.”

“I did, and the fact that I want to do this is a million miles from me wanting to go back. It means I want to use my skills to help out—to help you. You need people you can trust—you know you can trust me, right?”

She’d just scored a direct hit on his Achilles heel—Scott was the only member of the security team he felt comfortable with bringing into a trusted inner circle, and other candidates in the immediate vicinity were rarer than rocking horse shit.

Apart from her.

Bringing Sasha in went against every protective instinct he possessed, but the fact was, he needed her. This being Texas, her carrying a gun wouldn’t be unusual. He doubted she’d ever broadcast her past to anyone—only Gerry Brookes knew, and Linzi’s manager had yet to show up for the first time since Rocco had arrived. “I do trust you.”

“And you don’t need me to spell out how many times I’ve been in far more hazardous situations. Do you?”

Now he was forced to think about it, and even though she’d have been trained thoroughly for her role in the Agency, Rocco’s blood ran cold at the thought of her being in danger. “No, I don’t.”

“Then why not let me help?”