“Well, she was your handler. You guys weren’t actually together in the field. You were all phone calls and meetings. Right? And she’s close. It won’t be different. Just like you’re on assignment, but you’ll get your jobs from dickhead, not communicated from Beth. Besides… ” Cash scrolled through his phone. “I just got this.”

He handed her back the phone. It was a text message from Roman. Dig for me, bro. What’s the deal on this Beth girl?

“Are you serious?” Her jaw dropped for the second time that night.

“You didn’t see that coming? Anyway, let’s get out of here. You’ve got to be ready for bed.”

She nodded, cuddling into his chest. “Totally ready to fall asleep in your arms.”

He laughed. Scooping her off the bed, Cash whispered in her ear. “If you think you’re sleeping anytime soon, you’re mistaken.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Nicola slept all day, and Cash had spent most of it watching her in his bed. She was a vision of sweet beauty: tousled hair, peacefully closed eyes with feathery eyelashes he simply adored. Warmth spread in his chest each time she gave a sleepy sigh, unconsciously snuggling against him.

Minus a few hiccups, loving this woman was the easiest damn thing he’d ever done. He twirled a piece of hair around his finger as she stirred again. She blinked awake, and his throat constricted. God, when she smiled, his world stalled. Years of training and control were gone with the bat of her eyelashes.

“Good morning,” she murmured, all sleepy and cute.

It killed him how adorable and innocent she could look, knowing she was a trained killer who had spent most of last night at the hospital after an attack. No red eyes. No telltale signs of a night gone wrong, with the exception of a few cuts and scratches. She didn’t smell like a pepper grinder anymore, only her lavender shampoo. Man, he loved the scent of lavender.

Bright sunlight poured into his bedroom. “Try, good afternoon.”

He leaned over, kissing her forehead. Nicola burrowed further into the crook of his arm. Her naked shoulder fit perfectly, as if their bodies were made to fit together. The soft caress of her skin drove him delirious with the need to kiss her again. He did, long and tender, consuming her.

The vivid nightmare of a shotgun pointed at her the night before made him want to retch. He’d be angry enough to kill Jackson if the bastard hadn’t already been dead.