Except she didn’t. Instead, she gazed up at him as if she was trying to read his mind. If he wasn’t mistaken, her breathing accelerated.

She was totally as into him as he was into her.

But how to get her to admit it?

Using the tip of his index finger, he traced the curve of her cheek. Then trailed it down the column of her neck. Across one collarbone, outlined by the soft cotton of her T-shirt. Then he dragged his fingers down her arm, noting with amusement when goose bumps lifted on her skin in the wake of his touch.

“Admit it, Sherri. You like me.”

“I do, actually. I find you smart and your store of knowledge endlessly interesting.”

He smiled a little. “Chicken.”

“Who are you calling a chicken?” she flared.

“You. You’re a big ol’ chicken, Sherri Tate.”

“Have you noticed what course I’m currently training for?” she replied tartly.

“You’re afraid of men. So why do you want to surround yourself with the biggest, scariest ones you can find? Are you pulling some deep psychological junk where you force yourself to face your greatest fear?”

Sherri stared up at him in what he could only interpret as shock.

Holy crap. Was that it? Had he accidentally hit the nail on the head? He’d just been talking out of his ass, trying to get a rise out of her.

Very quietly, he asked, “Why are you afraid of men, Sherri?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes. I think maybe it does.”

She exhaled hard. “I don’t like men crawling all over me all the time.”

He frowned. “Does it bother you when I touch you?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

She glared up at him. “I have no idea, and that bugs me most of all.”

Ahh. He smiled a little and ducked his head to capture her gaze, which was currently pointed at his combat boots. Reluctantly, she lifted her gaze to meet his.

“Is it possible that you’re attracted to me in spite of me being a man?” he tried.

“Yes, dammit,” she spat out in exasperation.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“I don’t want to like you!”

That made him laugh aloud. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t want to like you, either. But there it is. The heart wants what it wants.”

“Since when are you a romantic?” she demanded.

“Aww, honey. Just because I run around in the woods killing stuff for a living doesn’t mean I don’t like the feel of a woman in my arms, or that I don’t want to share my bed with one from time to time.”

“From time to time?” Sherri snorted. “You sure know how to woo a lady there, Sparky.”

“Hey. My life doesn’t allow for long-term relationships. I’m just trying to keep it real.”

“Why not? Lots of SEALs are married.”