“I told you. It was my client’s dying request.”

“No, bullshit. That’s not an acceptable excuse, and you know it.”

“All right. Several people are trying to kill me. Bullets whizzed over my head earlier. I don’t want to be stuffed in a trunk again. Is that acceptable?”

“Nope.” His eyes danced, an eyebrow raised. He needed to back off. He was already ruining her post-coital moment.

“So what do you want me to say?” She rolled her eyes. Why was he pushing her? “You’ll do a better job protecting me than the cops could, and, I don’t have to explain how I came across a secret government document.” Besides, I’m too busy thinking of you naked. “Does that work for you?”

All her climatic residuals were gone, and she blamed the undressed detective running shop from the bathroom.

“You’ve got serious walls built around you, doll. You know that?”

Oh yeah, she knew. Years studying psychology had clued her in. But all the money spent on higher education didn’t matter. She’d known since grade school that parents screwed up kids, and that a bad home life was a serious detriment for normal emotional health.

Walls were a concession for never finding a magical cure. But that was okay. She’d done just fine with her closely guarded psyche.

Well, that was the truth until Colby kissed through all her barriers. She needed to build those up again. Fast.

“I’m a realist. A pragmatist. You’re a one-night-stand man. I can tell. And I got carried away with the moment.”

“You’ve got it all wrong, and you don’t even know it. It’s simple: You’re the deceptive one.” He hung his head back down, facing into the sink. “You look one way. You act another. You say one thing, but I see the wheels turning in that clever head of yours. What you say isn’t what you think. Hell, honey. I know the deceptive deal. But that’s cool if that’s how you want to play it.”

“I’m not even going to dignify your accusations.”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing.” His half-smile made her stomach rocket into her throat. The man dripped testosterone. It was the freakin’ grand rapid of pheromones in this room. Mia flushed, remembering their bedroom showdown. Her palms itched to run down his strong back. Still carried away in the moment, it seems.

“I saw it in your eyes. You’re just as triggered up as I am. You want the same thing I want. But you don’t know it.” He paused, studying her. “Nah. You know what you want. Don’t you? I admire that. It’s sexy as all hell.”

No way, not-uh. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of calling her out. Her stomach might knot, her jaw might lock, but no way would she admit anything.