Addison Fox - The Royal Spy's Redemption

She ignored the endearments—she would not be affected by the patter of a serial dater—and snorted as she covered the last pan with foil. “I sleep just fine. And will sleep even better knowing I conquered five pans of enchiladas.”

The task had gone quicker with his help, and as she rubbed the tension out of her lower back she had to admit it had been nice to have company beyond the radio or one of her telenovelas she kept perpetually recorded on the kitchen DVR.

“I’ll be out of your hair soon. Go ahead home, and I’ll take the cot in your office.”

“I told you I’d see you through until morning.”

“So share the cot with me.”

The thought struck so hard—so deep and low in her belly—Gabby had to catch her breath. She would like to take him up on that all-too-enticing offer more than she could describe.

And far more than she’d even realized.

Admiring a well-sculpted body was one thing. Contemplating sleeping with said body was another matter entirely.

Quickly tamping down on the images that flooded her mind’s eye of the two of them entwined on her small sleep cot, she didn’t miss the sexy blue gaze that zeroed in on her from the sink. “We’ll just sleep.”

“You are running a fever.”

“Of a sort.”

The desire that edged his gaze was heady, and she felt herself being reeled in by the hot body, the late hour and the attraction she’d already fought for a few days now.

Fighting the urge for all of the above, she walked the large pan toward the fridge and resolutely kept her gaze from his. She would not spar with him on this. It was self-preservation, she promised herself as she pulled open the door and allowed the cool air to flow over her heated skin.

Yep. Self-preservation.

She’d nearly had herself convinced when that sultry voice of his—lilting with the devil’s own music—whispered in her ear. “You’re not curious?”

“No.”

She meant to sidestep the advance. Truly, she did. But as the heat of his body covered her back and the heat of his words filled her, something inside her simply rooted her feet to the spot.

“Not even a bit?”

“No.”

He didn’t touch her, but she felt his body move a fraction of an inch closer. “You sure?”

The urge to close the gap between their bodies nearly overwhelmed her; the mix of cool air at her front and hot, wicked heat at her back was nearly her undoing.

It was only the hard rap at the back door that had her coming out of the trance he’d woven around her.

“Who the bloody hell is that?” Before she could even turn around, Knox was halfway to the door. “Get in your office. Now.”

“No!” She slammed the fridge door closed and followed him to the delivery entrance, reality quickly intruding. “It’s probably my brother. He can’t see you.”

She rushed in front of him, anxious to cut Ricardo off at the pass. Her fingers flew over the alarm pad and she sideswiped Knox when he tried to stop her.

“He sees my light. Just let me deal with this. Go get back in the office.”

“You don’t know who—” His voice echoed behind her, calling her back, but she already had the door open, swinging it wide on its hinge.

The warm tension that had filled her system only moments before vanished, replaced with black ice. A small scream crawled up her throat as she took in the sight of her brother, a gun pressed to his forehead, standing before her on her doorstep.

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