Close Contact. Lori Foster

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style="font-size:15px;">      Or so he’d told himself.

      At the moment, the anger seemed dangerously close to the surface. “A lot can change in two months.”

      Guilt brought color to her face, so she didn’t appear as pale. She turned away before saying, “I should apologize—”

      “You made it clear there was no commitment.” That was usually how he liked it. Just not this time.

      “I know, but... It’s just that I had so much to deal with and...” She blew out a breath. “I was tempted to lean on you.”

      He waited, but when she said nothing else, he frowned. “That would have been so bad?”

      She choked. “You can’t tell me you’d have wanted that.”

      “I don’t think you have a clue what I wanted.” Mostly because she’d never bothered to ask.

      “Look at yourself,” she said, almost in accusation.

      Sahara had said the same, and he still didn’t know what it meant.

      “You can have anyone you want. I had no reason to think you’d want me, especially with all my...chaos.”

      Chaos? He started to ask, but she cut him off.

      “I figured it was better to go before I got rejected.”

      With quiet anger, Miles said, “I wouldn’t have rejected you.”

      “You can’t know that when you don’t understand what my life is like.”

      He’d already said too much, more than he’d meant to, so Miles shook his head. “Suit yourself. But now that you’ve explained and had your coffee, you need to go to the hospital.”

      She groaned.

      “If what you said is true—”

      Insulted, she asked, “You still doubt me?”

      “—then you know someone probably roofied you.” Yeah, he had doubts. Too much of her story didn’t add up. If she claimed to have an angry ex, or if she’d been in a club, it’d make more sense. Either way, they’d know the truth soon enough.

      Until then, he had an opportunity to turn the tables on her. He’d be accessible, he’d help her, but she’d be the one left wanting.

      Sahara reentered with a soft throw blanket. Miles had no idea where she’d found it, but she handed it to Maxi.

      Miles drew it over and around her shoulders. “Who would want to hurt you?”

      She thanked him, then said, “I have no idea. I don’t have any close neighbors, no recent involvements.” Her gaze flashed to his. “Well, except for you.”

      “That was months ago and we weren’t all that involved.”

      She looked ready to toss the coffee in his face. “If I go to the hospital, someone will recognize my name and tell my brother.”

      “Your brother?”

      “He works in the ER. Nevar isn’t exactly a common last name, so he’ll know I’m there, and then he’s going to ask a lot of questions I can’t answer, and probably try to insist I should sell the house.”

      Every word out of her mouth told him something new about her. Her definition of “chaos” was starting to make sense. “Maxi—”

      “I’m feeling better.”

      She wanted to avoid her brother that badly? Or maybe none of it was true and she didn’t want it proved.

      Trying to be the voice of reason, Miles lifted her wrist to show her how her hands still trembled. “Better,” he agreed, because she was no longer curled in on herself, “but still pretty shaken. You haven’t regained all your color, and your eyes aren’t completely clear. You have to get checked.”

      Sahara spoke up. “Miles is right, but I can offer an alternative. Body Armor has a private physician available to clients with special circumstances. I believe you qualify. You’d see her at a very secure, nearby location. Does that suit you?”

      Nodding, Maxi said, “That would be so much better, thank you.”

      Miles stared at Sahara. “You’re just full of surprises.”

      “You’ll learn everything as we go along.” She strode around her desk to her seat, saying, “I assume you’re happy to take the case?”

      “Happy?” He snorted. “No.”

      She arched her brows. “But you’ll do it?”

      Pretending to think about it, he gave Maxi a long look. “That depends.”

      Exasperated, Maxi stood.

      Since he didn’t move, she ended up very close to him, his face aligned with her hips.

      As he slowly stood, too, he said, “You’ve probably figured out that we have a history together?”

      “Yes,” Sahara said, her tone dry. “I did pick up on that.”

      “An intimate history,” he unnecessarily stated.

      Maxi stiffened. “This has nothing to do with that.”

      “No?” Miles wouldn’t let her rile him. After two months of missing her, he’d finally resigned himself to never seeing her again. Yet here she was, not only seeking him out, but in trouble.

      Sahara rolled her eyes. “I understand this situation is unique, so please, Miles, there’s no need to explain further.”

      “Well, let me explain,” Maxi said. “I came here to hire him, not just to get him back in my bed.”

      Not just to get him in bed? Bemused, Miles stared down at her. She said that as if she hoped to accomplish both. “Since you’re the one who kicked me out of it, I didn’t think you had.”

      Her back went so straight she looked ready to crack. With a rush of heat flushing her face, she plunked the coffee cup down on the desk. “I didn’t kick you out,” she stated, her hands fisted. “We were casual at best—”

      “By your insistence.” To Sahara, who had paused with a finger over the intercom button to listen to their byplay, he said, “I didn’t know she had a doctor for a brother, or lived in a farmhouse, or that she had property. Hell, I barely knew her name.”

      Maxi gasped.

      He continued anyway. “No personal questions were allowed.”

      “I never heard you complain!”

      He’d complained plenty...in his own head. From the beginning, Maxi had struck a chord. The sex was unparalleled, yet after having her only three times, she’d cut ties.

      He’d

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