Page 12 of Fox in Plain Sight

While he pressed the makeshift icepack to his bicep, she wrapped the dish towel around it then knotted it. “That should do.”

She opened the freezer again and snatched a bag of sweet corn from it. “This is for your ribs. You’re gonna have to press it against your side for a while.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am.”

She braced her hands at her hips. “And don’t make fun of me. I’m just trying to help you, you stubborn idiot.” She sniffed in a short breath.

“So I’m an idiot now?” he asked way too softly—almost as if he knew what was going on inside her.

Tears sprang to her eyes. Nick could have gotten killed today. For her. For saving her miserable life, when she knew her life was practically forfeit anyway. Because if she couldn’t produce the results Mr. Smith wanted, he’d have her thrown in prison. And right now, she was at a dead end. As if somebody had put a wall up right in front of her. One she couldn’t penetrate. She was running out of options and out of time.

“Why did you do that?” A sob tore from her chest. “That cab could have killed you! You don’t even know me. You don’t even know whether I’m worth risking your life for. You idiot.” The last word barely made it over her lips, tears choking off her voice.

She felt his hand wrap around her wrist a moment later, pulling her to him. His arm came around her back, dragging her closer until she was captured between his spread legs, chest-to-chest with him.

He used his forefinger to tip her face up so she had to look at him. “Every life is worth saving.” He paused, smirking. “As for calling me an idiot: I’d like an apology for that.” His gaze dropped to her mouth.

Her breath instantly hitched, awareness permeating every cell of her body. Her pulse began to race, and perspiration slicked her skin.

“A really nice, long apology.” He dipped his head until his lips were floating just an inch above hers. “How about that apology now?”

His voice was drugging, his strong arm imprisoning her. His breath blew against her face, tempting her further.

“Just one kiss,” she murmured.

“Two. You called me an idiot twice.”

“Two then.”

The moment the last word left her mouth, she felt Nick’s lips on hers. At first the touch was soft and gentle, a mere brushing of skin on skin, of warmth sliding against warmth. Instinctively her lips parted as she took in his masculine scent, inhaling his aroma, taking it deep into her lungs. A pleasant shiver ran down her spine, making her tremble in his arms.

An appreciative hum came from his lips, reverberating against hers, the vibrations spreading a tingling sensation over her mouth and face.

She knew then that two kisses wouldn’t be enough to satisfy the sudden hunger that was growing inside her.