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her personal space, filling up the air with his spicy, masculine scent that was all clean, addictive male. “Awww, were you worried about me?”
    She feigned indifference. “Not really. I was more worried about your enemy. You seem to have a take-no-prisoners kind of attitude. Now that you’re back stateside, I can rest easily knowing there will be no international incident.”
    A gruff, rumbly laughter bubbled up from deep within his chest, sending chills of anticipation through her body. God! Why did he have to be so … potent to her? If she thought for one second he’d respond to her, she’d jump his bones right here for all to see. She could just imagine peeling that ridiculously tight USMC T-shirt off his big body and licking every delicious inch of his muscle-packed frame, licking the V of muscle beneath his abs that lead straight to that impressive package she’d seen behind his jeans on more than one occasion. Just the thought of taking him in her mouth and sucking until his eyes rolled back in his head made her ears roar.
    “Hello? Earth to Amanda?”
    “What? Oh! Sorry. What was that?” She’d been caught daydreaming about his body on more than one occasion. Perhaps she should have been embarrassed, but hell, what were best friends for if one couldn’t ogle them at times? Right?
    “I said, weren’t you worried about me even the teeniest bit?” There was mischief dancing in his eyes. Fine crinkles at the corners only accentuated the handsomeness of his face. The effect was devastating on her senses. If she thought for one second he knew his effect on her, she'd never be able to look at him again.
    “Nope,” she responded airily with a grin . “None whatsoever.”
    “Why, you little imp!” He lunged for her, dragging her into his arms. Clamping one brawny arm around her waist, he used the other hand to wage a tickle attack that would have put General Patton to shame. Through peals of laughter and a vain effort to get away from him, Amanda relished being mashed so hard against his body. It might be her imagination, but she swore she could feel every single muscle in his torso imprinting itself on her skin through her blouse. He was the only man she’d ever met who could manhandle her without breaking a sweat. Despite her more-than-generous curves, despite the extra weight she carried, Dalton was more than a match for her, holding her to him tightly, even when he’d stopped tickling.
    For long moments, he simply held her, his chin resting on her head. “I missed you so fucking much, gorgeous,” she thought she heard him murmur. He gave her one more hard squeeze before pushing her away. Snagging her hand he dragged her to the dance floor.
    “What are you doing?” Amanda laughed all the way, not really caring, but giving her signature token protest.
    “I’ve been away for eighteen months and I want to dance with someone other than the LT.”
    “You dance with your lieutenant? And here I thought you were the all-American he-man type. If I’d known you swung that way, I’d have hooked you up with one of the twins,” she said, referring to the two men who ran the athletic center. Both were openly gay, but completely faithful to each other. So much so they joked about being Siamese twins because they never separated. Amanda absolutely adored both of them. Being a regular at the center herself, Amanda worked with them every week. They’d scoffed when she tried to get them to help her lose more than ten pounds or so, saying she was perfect just the way she was.
    “You haven’t been hanging around them again, have you?” He scowled, giving her a once-over. His gaze raked from her head to her toes, but instead of finding her lacking—like the others had—he looked at her, shaking his head in that way men did when they were completely lost in a woman. “There’s no reason for you to hang around there. People tend to fill your head with nonsense, and I won’t have it.”
    “Nonsense? What