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Still nothing.
She reached out and tentatively tapped his shoulder. Wow. The guy was muscular. His skin was warm and smooth. She reluctantly pulled her hand away. “Eric?”
He still didn’t move. Julie frowned. That couldn’t be good. Did he always sleep this soundly? Special agents were supposed to be light sleepers, ready to shoot and kill the moment they heard footsteps. Everyone who reads espionage novels knew that. If they didn’t get up, they were dead, drugged or in a coma until the next book came out.
She studied Eric’s sleeping form. He was motionless, his broad, sculpted chest barely moving with every breath. Hmm…
Julie leaned over him, her face just above his, and checked for signs of breathing. “Eric?” she whispered.
Her world suddenly spun. One minute she was standing and the next moment her feet were in the air. Julie cried out as her spine collided against the bristly carpet. Her arms, stretched above her head, were pinned down. Her breath hitched in her throat as a heavy weight descended on her ribs.
She blinked at the sight of Eric’s face inches away from hers. Her mouth went dry as she took it all in. His short blond hair was mussed and his dark blue eyes were still blurry with sleep. Whiskers shadowed his angular jaw and she itched to rub her cheek against his.
Eric squeezed his eyes shut, the lines in his face deepening. He opened his eyes again. “Julie?”
He knew her name, she thought dazedly. That was hopeful.
And he wasn’t moving away from her. Eric kept her pinned to the floor. His knee was deeply, intimately, wedged between her thighs as his big, muscular, not to mention naked chest crushed her breasts.
“How’d you do that?” she asked in a breathless squeak. And could she use that move to flip him into her bed?
Eric jumped to his feet in one fluid movement. He reached for her, his hands surprisingly gentle. Eric set her on her wobbly feet before she could take her next breath.
“I’m sorry,” he said. He pulled his hand away and rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to do that. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. No harm done.” Except for knowing how it felt to be pressed against his rock-hard body. “I’m supposed to get you for the meeting in the conference room.”
“Damn.” He looked at his watch. It was a sophisticated timepiece that looked as complicated as the dashboard of a race car. “I’ll be right there.”
“Take your time,” Julie offered as she tugged her dress into place and hurriedly made her way to the door. She felt off balance, as if her world had been thrown off its axis.
“Julie?”
She turned around and kept her eyes firmly above his bare shoulders. It didn’t help. Her gaze wandered down to his snug boxer briefs and she started to blush. “Yeah?”
“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Scare me?” She frowned. He thought one accidental tumble scared her? Seriously? What did he think she was made of? Julie thrust her chin out with injured pride. “Eric, the only one who seems freaked out is you.”
* * *
HE BLEW IT. ERIC GRITTED HIS teeth as the disappointment rolled through him. Six weeks of being a gentleman and he ruined it by one instinctive move. Tackling a woman and pinning her to the floor was not the way to her heart.
Eric hovered over the sink in the men’s restroom and sluiced ice-cold water over his face. He regretted falling asleep in the office instead of driving back to his hotel in Bellevue. He was alert now, but it was too late to fix anything. He glanced up and looked in the mirror. He saw the scars along with the weariness and the darkness in his eyes. He was not the knight in shining armor that Julie wanted.
He had spent most of his adult life as a government agent. He was honored to serve his country, although he spent most of his days outside its borders. He missed home, but he had a sense of pride over his accomplishments.
He could also speak three languages, assimilate in any major city and handle a gun and knife with the same ease as a knife and fork. So, why did he feel like a monster around Julie?
Because he was a monster. Eric speared his wet hands through his hair, allowing the water to drip down his head and neck. He had been wild and destructive as a child. His home life had been a battlefield and then a wasteland. When he left home, he had been trained to destroy and shoot to kill. Julie was the opposite. She was creative and saw the good in everyone. She liked her espionage novels and believed that good always won over evil.
Eric didn’t remember when he stopped believing in that fairy tale, but he didn’t want her to find out the truth. He may be bitter, but he found her sweetness addicting in a way he never understood before. If he got close to her, even touched her, he would taint her with the darkness of his world.
