Every drop of surprise, every nuance she offered came to a hard stop.
Right then.
Right there.
She lifted her head and all the wild horses in the world couldn’t drag the filthy thoughts from my mind. She was far too damn beautiful and this man had spent two plus long years in a forced dry spell.
Even before that, I’d had the same experience with women she’d had with men.
None of the experiences had been anything to write home about.
I took the bag from her hand, keeping my eyes pinned on hers. There was a distinct shift in the air, heavy humidity that fueled an angry, usually unwanted emotion and hungry need from deep within. The last thing I should do was even think about touching her under any circumstances.
The possible ramifications were clearly labeled in my mind, just like the layout of what to expect when I was released had been from my attorney. Then there were the basics of what I could expect once I was formally introduced into the Zullies’ smoke-jumping team.
Several arduous weeks of training. Daily runs and other exercise. Keeping my mental aptitude at peak performance as well as my body. This wasn’t like a house fire where typically I could go home after putting out a fire and completing my shift. I could be gone for days, or dependent on the fire even for weeks at a time.
There were very little outside communication abilities, and even less time to spend with loved ones and friends during fire season.
Usually I’d be grateful for anything that would keep me from thinking about the past and everything I’d lost.
But here she was, the most beautiful damn girl in the world and she was looking at me as if she was perfectly happy with throwing caution and common sense to the wind. She was right. I could be a serial killer.
Instead of who I was.
Which was much worse.
I found it interesting that in that particular moment, I honestly just didn’t give a shit what anyone thought. What anyone heard.
Or what anyone would say.
Fuck them all.
This was my new life and I was handling it the way I wanted.
Which was why I wasn’t interested in putting a further hold on my desires and slipped my hand around the back of her long, lovely neck, yanking her against me.
And crushed my mouth over hers.
CHAPTER 7
Grace
The little voice inside my head was pecking at me as she’d been doing since I returned home. Only instead of pushing me to dig my way out of the protected cocoon she’d nagged me about, she was jabbering on about how I could be making a mistake.
A huge mistake.
Granted other than what little Viper had told me, every detail easily written on a sticky note, I had no clue about who he was or why he’d suddenly appeared in Missoula.
A job.
Okay, doing what? An accountant? No way. He was like a caged lion already, eager to pounce on the world.
Maybe he’d been hired by the park service to fight lions, tigers, and bears. Well, hopefully not lions and tigers, but we’d experienced our share of bear sightings and destruction of local trash cans.
Not a chance. He was completely unfamiliar with animals. How was that possible? Had his parents never allowed him a pet when he was growing up? Wasn’t Colorado just as rough and rugged as Missoula?
Maybe his father was a rich guy, owning several of the haughty ski resorts. Now, while Viper was as arrogant as any man I’d ever met, it wasn’t because he was princely.
