Page 37 of Fixed Asset

“More control than I knew I possessed.”

Her head turned and her eyes landed on me—clear blue eyes I wanted to stare into for the rest of my life. Eyes I wanted to go to sleep to, wake up to, and one day look at my children and see those same blue crystals dance with happiness.

“Thank you.”

Christ.

Arrow to my heart. I doubted she knew the blow she’d delivered but it landed, nonetheless.

“I was wrong,” I admitted. “Pete was right. You were right.” A cocky eyebrow winged up, and I took that as wanting me to continue with my apology. “I never should’ve doubted you. I have . . . control issues when it comes to you. In my defense, I’ve never loved anyone who was crazy brave and—”

“Wait. You love me?”

Well, fuck me running, I hadn’t meant to go that far and admit the whole truth.

“C’mere, baby.”

I held out my hand, and for once Catarina Keys didn’t throw attitude as she happily walked her fine ass the handful of steps needed to get to my side. As soon as I had her hand, I pulled her against my chest and wrapped my arms around her.

Once I had her where I wanted her, I told her a story.

“I think I fell in love with the idea of you before I met you. It started when I read the dossier of this woman who was a high achiever, smart, physically tough. Her superiors raved about her work. Commands were clamoring to get their hands on this woman whose skill set was such that it made her invaluable. She was in high demand but went to work at the Marshals Service, using her supreme intellect to stop sex offenders.

“By the time I was done reading, I knew if I were ever to find a woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, she’d have to measure up to the woman in the report. That was the kind of woman I’d always wanted but couldn’t find. Then in walked this blonde-haired, blue-eyed spitfire who was all attitude and sass, and it hit me—the woman who was meant to be mine was standing right in front of me. An hour later, I learned not only was she smart and gorgeous, but she was funny as hell. And I knew right then down to my soul, if I could somehow manage to win her, my life would be filled with nothing but beauty for the rest of it; until my dying breath, I’d have everything. Then I fucked up by being a twat. The end.”

Catarina shook her head and whispered, “No, not the end.”

Thank fuck.

“You willing to give me a second chance?”

“Let me tell you a story.” She paused and adjusted her cheek on my chest and nuzzled closer. “There was a woman, and all her life she searched for a man who was big and tough and smart. He had to like to laugh and have fun and watch something other than sports . . .” Cat tilted her head back and looked up at me. “Do you watch a lot of sports?”

I felt my lips twitch, trying to stop myself from fully committing to the smile trying to break free, and shook my head.

Damn, the woman was fucking cute.

“Phew.” She readjusted her cheek and went on. “But see, a man like that, one who’s strong enough to go head-to-head with this woman, he’s hard to find. She’s a lot to handle, and not a lot of strong, tough men are willing to put up with her attitude. And the men who are, are pushovers, and that’s totally not her thing. She’s looking for protective, and a little cocky—but not the bad kind—and bossy in the bedroom, but not overbearing, and he needs to have a little bad boy in him to keep up with her.” She stopped again and glanced up. “Are you following?”

“Yeah, baby, I’m following.”

I smiled down at her, and I swear to God the smile she gave me in return stole my breath. Uncaring she wasn’t done with her story, I dropped my mouth to hers. My tongue glided over the seam of her lips. I felt the cut on her lip but pushed the knowledge of how she got that cut out of my head and got lost in the feel of her tongue sliding against mine. One hand skimmed up her back, under her hair, until I had a handful of silky brown locks. I had to admit, the dyed color was growing on me, but if I had my way, she’d go back to blonde. My other hand went to her ass.

Catarina moaned and pressed closer.

Alive.

In my arms where she belonged, with minimal damage.

Reluctantly, I broke the kiss, but only because I wanted to hear the conclusion of her story—which hopefully ended with the confirmation she was giving me a second chance.

“Damn,” she whispered. “You’re really good at that.”

“Stop being cute and finish your story,” I demanded.

With a sigh I knew she didn’t mean, she kept her eyes on mine this time and went on. “So there she was in Sin City for work. Imagine her surprise when she walks into a hotel room and meets this really good-looking man. He’s a little older, and has lots of gray in his hair . . .” She trailed off when she couldn’t keep a straight face.

She was talking about my old boss.