“I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret later,” he said in a low voice, rough with passion and new love for her.

“I won’t regret it,” she said with utter conviction, as she looked into his eyes. “He’s been gone a year. This is fair, more than you know.” But Mike did know about the girl in Moscow, which he couldn’t say.

“You don’t know me,” he said softly.

“I know enough. I’ve never felt this way for anyone.” But he also knew that she was lonely and had been severely traumatized. And he didn’t want to take advantage of her when she was vulnerable.

“Neither have I felt this way,” he admitted, and kissed her gently this time with an insatiable thirst for her that only she could quench. He had never wanted a woman as badly in his life, and he knew so much more about her than she did about him. That didn’t seem right to him. But they were kissing again and couldn’t stop. When they finally did, one of the bodyguards appeared in the doorway to check on her.

“Are you all right, ma’am,” he asked respectfully.

“Yes, fine, Daniel, thank you.”

“We’ve set fire extinguishers around the house in case we need them.”

“Thank you,” she said again, and he left. Mike was satisfied to see that they were doing their job. He looked at her sheepishly, and pulled her into one of the big leather chairs with him. There was room for both of them, with her half on his lap.

“You must think I’m a savage,” he said unhappily. “I didn’t want to do this. I don’t want to complicate your life.”

“You’re not,” she reassured him. “I don’t have a life. My life ended more than a year ago, with Axel, not Matthieu. Don’t I have a right to be happy now, just for a moment, an hour, a day?” There were tears in her eyes and he pulled her into his arms again.

“Oh my darling…oh God, I’m so sorry. You deserve so much more than this…than me…”

“Shut up,” she said. “Stop talking.” She got out of the chair and pulled him to his feet, and then led him into the bedroom next to her office. She closed the door and locked it. The other door leading to it was already locked, and with a single gesture, she pulled her sweater over her head, unzipped her jeans, slipped out of her ballet flats, and stood in her black lace underwear in front of him. She was nearly naked in the wisps of black lace that made it impossible for him to resist her. He pulled off his shirt and his own jeans quickly. The black lace vanished somewhere with his underwear. He had dropped the gun discreetly with his jeans, and she noticed it on the floor, partially covered by his clothes, and she looked startled for an instant.

“You carry a gun?”