Rocco pressed forward toward Jemma.
He didn’t care that he wore only a towel around his waist, and she was the leader of the DEA Proteus Team. Discovered by the wrong person, this encounter could be misconstrued and considered inappropriate.
But nothing was more appropriate to him than unraveling the reason for the turmoil brewing within her wide-eyed chocolate gaze. It tugged at him. Compelled him to action. He couldn’t explain it, but he wanted to destroy whatever had put that look in her eyes.
Jemma’s gaze descended slowly from his face, following the drops of water as they flowed across his defined muscles and along the contours of his body. The turmoil dissipated into something he dared hope was desire.
“What’s wrong?” Rocco asked.
Jemma looked away from him. “Nothing. Why would you think something was wrong?”
“Because you’re here …” Rocco said.
“I needed to see you.”
“See who?” Rocco found himself asking, his voice deeper than he intended, resonating with a tension he couldn't mask. It was a challenge, a test of sorts, and he braced himself for her response.
“Just Rocco."
It hit him hard, stirring a mix of elation and apprehension. He had to close his eyes momentarily, battling the surge of emotions. Feelings he shouldn’t have for the woman who had his career in her hands.
When he reopened them, he was met with a spark of defiance that intrigued him. Instead of maintaining a safe distance, she closed the gap between them, her determination evident in every step.
He raised a hand in a futile attempt to halt her advance. “You shouldn’t come any closer.”
"What the fuck happened out there?" she demanded, her concern palpable as she reached for his arm, inspecting the welts and cuts with a mix of professional concern and personal distress. Her touch was electric, sparking sensations he hadn't anticipated, but he was too caught up in the moment to move.
Rocco clamped a hand over her wrist and pried her hand from his arm. "It's nothing. It'll heal.” He should let go of her. Put some distance between this woman who excited him more than any other woman.
I need that woman whose mind captivates me, who challenges me, and is strong enough to handle me. Someone who can keep my attention …
Like a woman you can spend hours talking to without getting bored or trying to get her in bed …
Damn, if he hadn’t found that with Jemma.
He was riveted as their conversation ebbed and flowed across hours until he was standing in the middle of the street of Old San Juan, watching the sunrise peek over the horizon. The only thought crashing through his mind was that he didn’t want the time withJemma to end, even though he knew it had to. Nothing could ever happen between them. He would pass the Proteus assessment and become the undercover agent assigned to take down El Sombro. The Group Supervisor responsible for the mission wasn’t available, no matter how strongly he was attracted to her body and mind.
“These cuts look deep. They’ll need to be cleaned so they don’t get infected,” Jemma said, not budging an inch. “I know where each of the guys were stationed along the route to the safe house. Tell me where this happened. Whoever crossed the line and did this will be reprimanded.”
“You … did this.” The words were out before he could stop them. He pulled her closer. Close enough to smell the clean scent of cocoa butter wafting from her skin. He guided her hand along the scrapes, caressing his biceps until her fingers grazed the purple bruise spreading across his shoulder. He could never tell her, but he could show her the chaos she'd unwittingly caused in his life.
She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Wanting to impress you. To see you. Hoping beyond hope that you were out there watching me and … liking what you saw,” Rocco said, then sucked in a deep breath. “I was almost at the safe house when I saw you near the edge of the fence … looking like …” He shook his head, dismayed. “If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have crashed my arm through a window to take out your guys. I wouldn’t have lost concentration. Wouldn’t have taken a hit.”
"You saw me?" Her voice barely a whisper.
"I’ve been looking for you all fucking day," he confessed, his gaze sweeping over her as he tried to etch every single second of this moment in his memory. He knew they’d never be this close again. "You should go, Supervisor Winters.”
“What?” Jemma asked. The confusion and desire mingling in her eyes nearly undid him. The tension between them escalated. Atangible force that threatened to obliterate the fragile boundaries he tried to maintain. As she hesitated, he realized the danger of their attraction and its potential for destruction.
“Leave before we cross a line we can’t return from.” He released his grip on her wrist, but she didn’t move her hand. Instead, she caressed his shoulder up to his neck until her hand rested on his face. An insatiable urge welled within him, and he was powerless to stop himself.
He dipped his head and brushed his lips against her wrist in a soft, gentle kiss.
Jemma jerked her hand away as if burned. The desire and connection in her eyes were gone, replaced by a mask of duty and decorum. He was relieved and tormented by her sudden retreat.
“I don’t allow myself to make regrettable decisions,” Jemma said, then cleared her throat. “Two nights ago …”
