14

12:40 p.m., Colorado Springs, Colorado

“So unbelievably awkward,” Rhonda muttered, tossing her suitcase onto the bed.

Cooper had turned into a first-class asshat the moment he’d shown up in her office with Nate Black’s orders. That was late yesterday afternoon, and he hadn’t taken the damn hat off since. She did not need the drama. Now she wished she’d never gone to his office and changed his bandage. His shoulder could fall off, for all she cared.

She dug into her purse for her cosmetics bag and went into the bathroom to freshen up her makeup. She’d looked forward to her first field assignment so eagerly. It was a rite of passage, a vote of confidence. It meant that when her probation period ended next month, she’d be a full-fledged member of the team.

And Cooper was single-handedly wringing all the joy and sense of accomplishment out of the experience.

She knew he was worried about Eva and that he was upset about being pulled off the investigation. But it was pretty clear that there was more to it than that. He was upset about being paired up with her. She knew it had nothing to do with her abilities; she did good work. So that meant this was about that stupid kiss. She had hoped he’d be able to put it behind him and move on.

Even though she hadn’t been able to, either.

She braced her palms on the bathroom counter and glared at her reflection. Even surly, rock-jawed, and silent, Jamie Cooper was impossibly gorgeous. Sitting beside him on the cramped commercial flight this morning, she’d felt the undercurrent of his sexuality radiate from his body, which did things to her body, regardless of how hard she tried to ignore him.

She’d even dreamed about him last night, even though she knew she’d never get involved with him. The vibes he’d been giving off, however, suggested that he might think she should.

Not happening. She dug a hair pick out of her bag and went to work. She wasn’t opposed to good, healthy sex, although you’d never know it from her recent dating history. Or her not-so-recent history, for that matter. Sex was one thing; a conquest was another, and that’s what a man like Cooper would consider it.

That might be a little harsh, but she told herself it was the truth. She had never been and would never be some man’s spoils of war, even if it was simply a war of the sexes.

But oh, she did wonder what a night in a bed with him would be like.

She tossed the pick down in disgust. She was as guilty as he was.

But she had no desire to let someone like Cooper interfere in her life. Or get too close. Which was why it bothered her that she kept thinking about what he’d said at the briefing yesterday: “Mike and Eva went in posing as UWD devotees, hoping to find information to clear the three of us from false court-martial charges.”

How horrible it must have been for them. If he’d been halfway communicative on the flight this morning, she’d have asked him about the charges. But her sympathy had disappeared when he’d gone Surly Sam on her.

They would need to have that talk after all, she decided. She had to cowgirl up and let him know he was wasting his time and hers.

A sharp knock drew her out of the bathroom and to the door. It must be Cooper, but she looked through the peephole to confirm it. Then she stepped back and swung the door open to reveal Asshat Man in all his pissed-off glory.

Arms folded belligerently over his chest, fingers tucked under his armpits, feet planted wide apart, he looked as gorgeous as ever and as combative as a submachine gun.

Oh, brother.

When he saw her, his expression of grim resolution slowly turned to disgust, and her plan to have that “talk” collapsed like a pup tent in a strong wind. She wasn’t up to dealing with his hostility right now.

Irked with him for being such a dick, and with herself for not making him own up to it, she turned away. “Let me grab my coat, then I’m ready.”

“For what? Speed dating?”

His clipped, judgmental words had her turning back to him with narrowed eyes. “What exactly does that mean?”

“We’re going to a military facility, for God’s sake, not a photo shoot. Must you always be camera-ready?”

Rhonda knew she sometimes pushed the acceptable limits of professional attire. It was who she was, and she didn’t intend to change for anyone. She’d worn the black sweater, black skirt, and black heels because she’d needed to feel powerful enough to match whatever crap Cooper sent her way.

Apparently, he planned on sending plenty, and she was now officially pissed. “What are you, the fashion police?”

He gave her another contemptuous once-over. “Forget it. I want to get to the base and get a few hours under my belt today. Let’s just go.”

“You know what? I’m not going anywhere.” Mimicking his stance, she crossed her arms beneath her breasts and stood her ground. “Not until you tell me who shoved that stick up your ass.”

•    •    •

Damn stubborn, bullheaded woman. Short of dragging her out of the hotel room and shoving her into the elevator, it looked as if they were going to have that talk he’d hoped to avoid for, oh, the next decade or so.

“Look. I don’t want to be here, okay?” Not lying but not exactly telling the whole truth.

She snorted. “Alert the media. I never would have guessed.”

He walked over to the window and glared out at the parking lot. “I need to be back at Langley, working on the investigation.”

“That much I figured out,” she said from behind him.

Which was a good thing, because she looked so damn hot all he could think about was the fact that they were alone together in a hotel room. With a bed.

“I want to be back there helping out, too,” she continued. “But there’s more going on with you than that.”

Oh, hell, yeah.

“You think I’m not up to the assignment? Is that what this pigheaded silence is all about?”

He shifted his attention to a jet trail in the clear blue sky. “I don’t think that, no. I think you’ll do fine.”

“Then that only leaves one thing.”

When she left it at that, he finally turned around. She looked like a runway version of an Amazon priestess. Expression hard and unbending, body lush and curvy, legs long and . . . man, oh, man, he wanted them wrapped around his waist.

“You kissed me,” she said, cutting right to the heart of the matter. “If you’re having trouble with that, then it’s on your head, not mine. So if you want to be ticked off at someone, go look in the mirror, and quit taking it out on me.”

She was right. His foul mood was about the kiss, and he was taking it out on her.

But she wasn’t finished clearing that up for him. “And grow up, while you’re at it. We were happy for Eva and Mike. We were relieved she was alive. We were relieved we were alive. It was instinctual. It didn’t mean anything.”

He stared at her, wanting to agree with everything she said. But he couldn’t. Because looking at her in all her magnificent glory, he was hit by a blinding rush of awareness.

She was dead wrong.

That kiss had meant something. It had meant a helluva lot of something, which scared him stupid. And that was why he was angry. He dragged a hand through his hair, stunned speechless.

Then he met her eyes and, with a single beat of his heart, shot from bewilderment to total clarity. She was just as afraid as he was. That was why she’d lied and said it meant nothing. That was why she’d come to him yesterday full of concern about his shrapnel wounds.

Well, he’d never run away from fear in his life before, and he wasn’t going to start now.

She wanted to be pissed? Maybe he’d give her a reason.

He stalked toward her. “So that kiss didn’t mean anything? Then this won’t, either.”

Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, he banded one arm around her waist, gripped the back of her head with the other, and pulled her flush against him.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I think I’m about to ruin your lipstick. But don’t worry, it doesn’t mean anything.”

Then he covered her mouth with his . . . and dived into a hundred fathoms of ocean.

And kept diving deeper.

She melted against him like hot wax, meeting the heat and intensity of his kiss with all the fury that had prompted him to go caveman and drag her into his arms.

Another first. Women pursued him; he didn’t go after them. And now he knew why.

Because they weren’t her.

Because she wasn’t just another woman.

Terrified by the track his thoughts had taken, he abruptly broke the kiss and set her away from him.

She looked dazed and unsteady, and he wasn’t so damn solid on his own feet, either.

He cupped her shoulders in his hands and walked her backward the two steps to the bed. When the backs of her knees hit the mattress, she sank right down.

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a jerk. You didn’t deserve it,” he said, meaning it. “And I’m sorry about what I just did. I was way out of line.”

She had yet to speak. It was the most unhinged he’d ever seen her.

It was the most unhinged he’d ever felt.

Before he could stop himself, he reached out and brushed the pad of his thumb over her lower lip. “Better touch up that lipstick.”

She blinked, a “what the hell just happened?” blink that had him backing toward the door.

“I’ll meet you in the lobby in ten.” Then he sped out of her room, feeling as if he was swimming for his life in shark-infested waters.