She thought of the security detail they had worked in Mexico. Along with Trace, the three of them had operated seamlessly together to protect Edge’s brother, his partner, Abigail Holland, and the members of Gage’s expedition.

The mission had been successful—that was for sure—earning Skye a share of the gold bullion that had been brought back to the States.

She couldn’t stop a smile.

“You’re in a good mood this morning,” Edge said, his lips curving as he approached her desk. The muscles across her abdomen tightened. With his high cheekbones and long black lashes any woman would die for, the man was beyond handsome. But his name fit him. Edge was a hard, dark, dangerous man.

Her own smile slowly faded. There was a time she might have considered an affair with a man as attractive as Edge. After the disfiguring injury she had suffered in Afghanistan, there was no way she would even think about it now.

She looked up at him. “I’ll be in a better mood if my stepmother tells us she’s heard from her daughter.” She rose from behind the desk. “My car’s parked in back. You still want to go with me?”

He cocked his head toward the door. “My car’s in front. Why don’t I drive?”

She wasn’t surprised. Edge was full alpha male and, as such, a control freak, but she was used to that, having served. She could press the issue, but she liked to pick her battles, and this one wasn’t worth fighting. “All right, fine.”

He waited for her to walk past him to the door, caught up with her, and pulled it open, held it as she walked outside.

“My stepmother lives in a house out in Aurora.” Skye flicked him a glance tinged with challenge. “Maybe I should drive.”

Edge grinned and surprised her by handing over the car keys. “Why not? You know where we’re going.”

Skye found herself grinning back. Edge had a way of making her smile, which she didn’t do that often. She’d always wanted to drive his sexy black sports car. Sliding in behind the wheel, she adjusted the seat, cranked the engine, stepped on the gas, and shot away from the curb.

It took nearly thirty minutes to reach her stepmother’s simple white-with-blue-trim house on East Warren, but as they zipped through traffic in the sports car, time seemed to fly. All the while, Edge quietly watched her.

He had never asked her out. Aside from including her in a drink with other people, he had never shown any sign he was interested in her. And yet there was no way to miss the heat in those amazing blue eyes. An answering heat settled low in her belly. As always, Skye ignored it.

They finally reached Margaret’s house and got out of the car. Edge held his hand out for the keys, and she set them in his palm. “Cool car,” she said.

“Glad you enjoyed the drive. ’Course my heart stopped beating at least three times on the way out here.”