“So far I’ve relied on outwitting him. It isn’t that hard.”
Duff wanted to grin at her sarcasm, but the fact that the man who’d cut his arm open had threatened her, as well, didn’t sit well with him. “I could give you a few pointers on defending yourself.”
“You’d teach me to fight.” Now that was a skeptical look. “Like you were doing out there with Silas?”
Realistically, he doubted she could take Silas down the same way he had. But there were ways. “You just have to be smarter than your opponent, do the unexpected and be fierce about committing to the attack. I could show you escape maneuvers—and you probably already know some of the key targets if you want to incapacitate a man.”
Her gaze dropped down to the zipper of his jeans and up to the column of his throat.
“I see you already know a couple of vulnerable spots.” He really should feel guilty about saying things that triggered that graphic response on her skin. Instead, he was wondering what else he could say or do to make her skin color like that.
She quickly averted her face. “I’d appreciate that. If you have the time.”
Her hip brushed against his thigh as she inserted the first stitch. Duff turned his nose to the crown of her hair, inhaling the scents of baby shampoo and damp summer heat. “I’ll make the time for you.”
“You don’t even know your work schedule...” Before she made the next stitch, she tipped her face to his. Her breath caught with an audible startle at how close he was to her, but Duff made no effort to retreat.
Her eyes weren’t ordinary at all. Their cool brown color, spiked with flecks of amber, reminded him of the fine Irish whiskey he and his brothers liked to sip on special occasions. With her sweet scent and eyes like that, he wouldn’t have to pretend that this woman had some pretty about her, after all.
“When I say I’m going to do a thing, I do it.”
He lowered his gaze to the quiver of her lips and felt a twist of hunger low in his belly. He could kiss her right now if he wanted to. Maybe the bold move would shock her into kissing him back. Or she might just slap his face for doing without asking.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Her hands were suddenly very busy with the cut on his shoulder.
“I don’t.”
Yep. Busy, busy. She didn’t know what to do about her interest in him. She didn’t know how to hide it, either. As long as he didn’t spook her, he could give her a few lessons about how to indulge that awareness she was feeling. And, damn it, he was going to take advantage of that attraction. Because the mission required it.
But that meant ignoring his conscience and his errant libido, and taking it slow so he wouldn’t frighten her off before he had the chance to solidify a connection between them. So he dialed back his own curiosity about what her lips might taste like and thought about the vanishing man who’d shot his grandfather and the reason he was here in the first place. Duff set the ice pack on the bed beside him and captured a strand of Melanie’s auburn hair, pulling it away from the damp spot on her left breast. The kinky tendril was thick and soft as he rubbed it between his thumb and fingers, stirring up the scents he’d noticed earlier. She must use baby products for all her personal toiletries. If he needed any further testament to her innocence...
Melanie pulled away at the same moment he forgot that touching her was supposed to be an act.
“Give me a sec.” She exited the room for a minute or so, and came back in, sans the blush, tying a rubber band around the long braid that hung over her shoulder. Without another word, she pulled on a new pair of sterile gloves and prepped the needle for the next stitch. Her tough-chick armor was back in place.
But Duff wasn’t about to surrender the opportunity to get closer to her. “That’s a shame, winding up all that wild hair like that.” He reached out and twisted the heavy braid between his fingers, using it to tug her into the vee of his legs. “I liked it better down.”
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