Without giving herself a chance to think this was a really bad idea, she whirled around and kicked out, but Jake caught her boot before she could connect with an ease that made her curse, leaving her balancing on one foot.
He stepped forward, his long fingers still wrapped around her ankle. Kim had no choice but to hop backward until she hit the wall behind her. “Let me go.”
“Say please and I might.”
“Piss off.”
He studied her for a moment and seemed about to say something, then shrugged and released her.
As soon as she was free, she kicked out again, this time trying to swipe his legs from under him. He sidestepped, then moved in close, his hands braced on the wall on either side of her head, caging her in. Her lungs filled with the scent of him—warm man and spicy citrus.
“Yield,” he ordered.
“No fucking way.”
He urged her back against the wall, moving his body in hard against hers until his chest pressed against her breasts.
A tingle ran through her, settling low in her belly.
Ugh!
That was so not right—this was Jake.
Kim hadn’t thought much about sex in the four years since her divorce, and she really didn’t need to start thinking about it now. And certainly not with Jake.
He was close enough that she could see the faint shadow of stubble darkening his jawline, the midnight blue of his eyes behind the thick fringe of lashes daring her to push him further.
The tingle became a heat that spread slowly out from her center.
What the hell was going on?
Jake lowered his head and his warm breath brushed her cheek. Her own breath sounded ragged in her ears and adrenaline surged through her system.
“Yield,” he said again, so close now she could feel the word against her skin.
She swallowed hard. “Okay, okay. I yield.”
She hated to give in, but what choice did she have? Because for one surreal moment there, she’d been convinced Jake was about to kiss her.
And kissing Jake was not an option.
Chapter One
Thursday night was movie night at Jake’s penthouse apartment and had been for most of the four years she’d known him. Kim didn’t think movies had featured much in Jake’s life before then—he usually didn’t sit still long enough, so she liked to believe she’d brought a little culture into his world.
Well, as much “culture” as one could attribute to a Terminator movie. Jake was too serious and needed someone to get him to relax and just enjoy doing nothing.
That was her job, and she was glad for a chance to get back on a normal footing with him since her foiled break-in attempt last week. She’d managed to convince herself that the almost-kiss had been a figment of her overactive imagination.
Of course, Jake wouldn’t kiss her—why would he?
All the same, things had been a little weird. And if she’d just heard him correctly, their relationship was still far from normal.
“You expect me to wear a what?” She’d been admiring the view from the floor-to-ceiling windows—the whole of London spread out below her. Now, she spun to face him. “Are you serious?”
He looked serious. But you never could tell with Jake—he’d perfected the art of deadpan long ago.
Lounging back in his huge black leather sofa, long legs stretched out in front of him, he returned her scrutiny, his dark-blue eyes examining her in minute detail. Kim shifted from foot to foot, never quite comfortable with the full force of his concentration focused on her.
Jake caught the movement and quirked his lips in obvious amusement. She hated that.
“Oh, yeah,” he drawled. “I’m deadly serious. The job came in last thing today. It’s a favor for a friend, and there were no other female operatives available.”
“Well, thank you for making me feel like a last resort. And where exactly do you expect me to get a dress?”
He gave an exaggerated sigh. “I don’t suppose there’s much point in suggesting your wardrobe?”
Kim raised an eyebrow; the question wasn’t even worthy of an answer.
“I thought not. That being the case, a dress shop would be the obvious choice. Don’t worry.” He held up a hand to preempt her next argument. “You can put it on the expense account. I don’t expect you to purchase such a superfluous item out of your own pocket.” He gave her another long look. “The assignment is security detail at a fashion party. I want you to blend in. So absolutely nothing in camouflage or khaki.”
Kim plucked at the cotton of her khaki combat pants. She thought they were pretty nifty, and teamed with Doc Martens and a black T-shirt, her outfit was both comfortable and durable. However, she had to agree that an element of glamour was missing.
From Jake’s expression, he thought so as well. “Actually,” he continued, “it’s probably best if I come shopping with you.”
“You don’t trust me, do you?”
“Kim, I’d trust you with my life. But with something as complicated and contrary to your nature as buying a dress? No, I’m afraid I don’t.”