Frankie was curled up against Bull’s side in his bed, drowsing off and on from the last bout of sex. When they’d come upstairs to his bedroom, he hadn’t closed the wide doors that overlooked the living room below and had a view out the two stories of windows facing the lake. As the rising sun turned the snow on the distant mountains to golds and pinks, he’d woken her, reminding her she’d asked for a repeat. His hands had already been busy, and she’d been far too aroused to protest.

The slow, sweet, sensual second time had been even better than the first, leaving her feeling as if her body had melted into syrup.

Sleepily, she skated her palm over the warm satin of his chest, feeling the hardness of the muscles beneath. His arm tightened around her in an affectionate squeeze.

In the corner, Gryff lay in a big cushy dog bed, his fluffy tail over his nose.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Bull murmured.

“It is, isn’t it? And you have such a beautiful—quiet—view. I can’t believe the lakeshore isn’t crowded with houses.”

“That’s because we own most of it. We wanted enough land that the sarge wouldn’t feel crowded.”

“The sarge?”

“Ah, he was basically our adopted father—and a recluse and paranoid as all get out.” Bull smiled slightly. “He raised us in an off-the-grid cabin, but when we all left, we talked him into moving here where he’d be closer to his friend Dante. It turned out that Dante had bought a lot of lakefront property when land was cheap, and he was eager to sell us this side. My brothers and I pitched in to buy it and build here, so we could be near the sarge when time allowed.”

“You miss him.”

After a long moment, Bull sighed. “Yeah. We’re combat vets and know how short life can be, but we never expected him to die. He always seemed indestructible.”

Grief. Why did the sound of it in his deep voice pull on her heartstrings? “I’m sorry, honey.”

He smiled, then his eyes seemed to darken. “Speaking of dying, do you want to tell me more about your trip to the PZs yesterday?”

“No, I think my curiosity about them was satisfied.” And that was all she was going to say about it. She couldn’t lie to him and didn’t want to.

Besides, she was just someone he’d had a nice bout of sex with. No entanglements, remember? She could hardly tell him the truth and ask for help. There was no way to predict how he’d react. He might well ignore Kit’s objections and call in the FBI and cops.

She could handle this. Her desire to have someone hold her hand while cutting a fence could get Kit and Aric killed.