Willing. Lucy Monroe

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Willing - Lucy Monroe


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What had he been thinking? His body needed a break from her temptation before his dick exploded from unrequited lust.

      So, why had he invited her to join him? Was his brain even connected to his mouth?

      The problem was that when he was around Josie, logic was not the overriding factor in his decision making.

      It would have been logical to leave her behind, but he’d gone soft in the head when he looked at her. She’d appeared so forlorn standing there in the doorway, her bow lips turned down in a frown. How did a woman who was easily as tough as any soldier he knew contrive to look that way?

      Especially after she’d made it clear she didn’t want his company. But she’d looked as if his leaving somehow hurt her, and he’d been unable to leave it at that.

      Idiot was right. She was the best-trained soldier he’d ever known. She didn’t need him to take her for a walk to make her feel better. She didn’t need him at all, but he couldn’t seem to keep that straight in his mind.

      When he was with Josie, he forgot she was a soldier. All he could see was the woman, a vulnerable woman he wanted to protect. Which had been the problem from the beginning.

      The trip across country together should have been another routine, straightforward mission for him, but it hadn’t been. He’d spent most of the time in the car in a state of painful arousal, fighting to keep his focus on the job of looking for a tail instead of sneaking sidelong glances at the female mercenary. The nights together in small hotel rooms with one bed in case Nemesis checked on their registry had been torture plain and simple.

      He’d taken a lot of cold showers and still woken up more mornings than not wet and sticky in his BVDs…and pissed. At himself and at the woman who seemed oblivious to what the sight of her pajama-clad body did to him.

      He’d had wet dreams about her, for crying out loud. He hadn’t dreamt like that since his voice had completed the change from tenor to baritone.

      At first, he’d thought Josie wanted him, too, and as much as he had always believed sex on the job was irredeemably stupid, he’d been desperate enough to make a pass. And been shot down, the flames singeing his temper as well as his libido.

      He should have got a clue from her behavior and not even tried.

      She jumped ten feet whenever he got within touching distance and avoided eye contact. When he’d kissed her, he thought she was responding with the same helpless passion he felt—until she pulled away and acted as if she thought it had all been part of the cover of pretending to be Wolf and Lise.

      He’d finally gotten the message. She wasn’t interested, but his body hadn’t stopped wanting her. Hell, he even craved her company. Like now. Taking Josie with him on the walk was no hardship except to his aching sex.

      He’d never craved the company of a woman outside of bed before, but he’d been disappointed to learn Josie was severing her ties with the mercenary school. Because he’d been looking forward to seeing her.

      Dumbass was right.

      Josie hesitated in the doorway, trying to get her heart and breathing under control. It was always like this when she got around Nitro, and the thought of him staying in her house during the mission scared the heck out of her.

      One night her desire for him was going to break its leash, and she was going to end up trying to seduce him.

      Which would be both hilarious and humiliating because she was worse than a virgin. She was a virgin who’d never even made it to second base with a date.

      She took a deep breath and stepped outside, closing the door behind her.

      Nitro had moved to the sidewalk and stood there waiting for her as if he had all the time in the world. He never looked out of place, and sometimes she envied his sense of unshakable confidence.

      She wondered why he’d invited her to come along on his walk. She’d been sure he wanted to get away from her.

      She moved to stand beside him. “I’m ready.”

      He nodded without looking down at her and started across the street. No holding his hand out to her this time. What would it be like to hold Nitro’s hand? To walk with him and know she belonged by his side. Her mind boggled.

      They crossed the street and stepped onto one of the paths surrounding the park, walking in companionable silence for once. She liked it and hesitated to so much as breathe funny to break the unusual rapport.

      Nitro had no such reticence. “I read the last year of your dad’s journal and skimmed some earlier entries.”

      “Already?” She’d been asleep only a few hours.

      “He’s a pretty sporadic writer, so it didn’t take too long.”

      “Did you find anything?”

      “No.”

      Disappointment weighted her insides. “Then why did he tell us to read them? You must have missed something.”

      “It’s possible. He did tell you to read his journal, not me. Maybe there’s something you’ll recognize in his entries that I didn’t.”

      That made sense. “There has to be.”

      “Maybe.”

      She frowned up at Nitro. “But he told me to read them.”

      His expression would have done one of his chieftain ancestors proud. “Maybe he wanted you to get something else out of them.”

      “Like what?”

      “An explanation for the way he raised you.”

      Tension seeped into her until the muscles between her shoulder blades ached. “What do you mean?”

      “You can’t think it’s standard parenting for a father to start training his little girl in combat before she’s old enough to read.”

      “I started reading when I was five.”

      “And you were six when you handled your first automatic weapon.”

      “It was just Dad’s way. He never let me be at risk.”

      “I know that, but it wasn’t normal, Josette.”

      She didn’t know why he insisted on calling her by her full name, but it felt intimate and increased the sense of connection she felt with him. Though she was sure that was not his intention.

      “He was a good father to me, and he’s not crazy.”

      “No, he isn’t, but he is on the paranoid side.”

      “Don’t criticize my dad. He has his ways just like anybody else. I thought you wanted to be his partner.”

      “I do, because I respect him, but no one is perfect, sweetheart.”

      Sweetheart? She flushed to the roots of her hair. “I didn’t say he was.”

      “But he’s not crazy either. Read the journals.”

      “I’d planned to.”

      “I mean the early ones.”

      “If they don’t have a clue to finding the would-be killers, that would be invading his privacy.” Something her father had a major issue with.

      “He told you to read them, Josette, and I personally believe it had nothing to do with the compound getting blown to bits.”

      “That doesn’t make any sense. Our personal relationship could be sorted out anytime.”

      “You’ve got to remember, your dad’s memories and thoughts were confused. The most important issue in his life was bound to take precedence.”

      And Nitro was implying that issue was her. She chewed on her bottom lip in silence until they reached a fork in the path.

      “Go


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