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visible at the juncture of her unbuttoned polo. Alex tugged hard at the cuffs. The headboard thudded violently against the wall.
    “Let me go, Simon.” She twisted beneath him.
    Worried she’d hurt herself if she pulled any harder, he leaned forward and encircled her wrists with his hands. Dark strands of her hair stuck to her pink lips.
    “Shh…” He circled the pulse points at her wrists with his thumbs. “We need to get some sleep.”
    “Are you crazy? Let me go!” She bucked upward, jostling him with her hip.
    He hissed as pain shot through his groin. Her curves might be padded, but there was still bone underneath. Adjusting the material of his trousers where it tightened across his crotch, he put some distance between himself and her. If she cracked her skull against his they’d probably both sustain concussions.
    “I’m not letting you go, Alex.” He eased off the bed and went to the other side of the shoji screen. “I’m changing and then I’m coming in there to sleep. With you.”
    A string of curse words followed this revelation.
    “Too bad you didn’t brush your teeth first,” he called as he peeled off his trousers and shook them out.
    “I’m going to breathe on you all night. And I had onions for dinner.”
    Simon pulled his pajama bottoms and toothbrush from his bag. “I know. I smelled them from eight feet away.”
    He didn’t doubt the laughter in his voice told her he lied, but she threw a few more creative epithets his way. For the first time since this whole debacle began his mood truly lightened. He was in control. If he wanted to, he could even leave. Glancing over his shoulder, he quickly dismissed the idea. Where would he go?
    Whether he liked being coerced or not, he relished the idea of working a mission again—of pitting his wits against and alongside other intelligent people. While babysitting the rich and famous had its perks, it really was, like Alex implied, a lackey’s job.
    Pajama bottoms on, Simon wandered to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Alex’s organic fennel-flavored toothpaste rested on the rim of the pedestal sink, a study in red on white. Simon brought the uncapped tube to his nose and sniffed. Encountering the scent, his mind sprang long-forgotten memories from the depths of his subconscious.
    Alex, standing next to him clad in a spaghetti-strapped pink baby doll, brushing her teeth. Foam at the corners of her mouth. Breasts jiggling with each little jerk of her arm. She flirted wordlessly with him in the mirror, her expression full of mischief. As she leaned over to spit out the toothpaste, he moved behind her. She let him gather her hair from her face while she rinsed her mouth. When she’d finished, she hadn’t straightened. Their eyes met. Held. He’d pressed his already hard cock against her ass. Through his thin pajama bottoms—the same ones he wore now—he’d luxuriated in her feminine heat and softness.
    Simon … Voice husky and soft, she’d whispered her plea.
    Winding her dark hair in a thick rope around his hand, he snugged his fist against her nape. He pulled gently to arch her neck. She looked at him in the mirror, the desire on her face a stark reminder of his own arousal. With his other hand, he freed his hard-on. His fingertips brushed his cock. An inadequate prelude. Breath coming hard, fogging the glass from six inches away, Alex licked her lips. Anticipation thickened the air. Simon tugged at her lacey shorts. Then laid the length of his engorged cock against the creamy skin of her ass. Encouraged by her moan, he slid along the cleft, creating a wedge of pleasure out of the valley of her cheeks. In and out, plunge and retreat, he claimed her crack for his desire. Sweet pulses of light accompanied a flurry of thrusts. With a shout, he’d come in milky ropes over her skin.
    Barely pausing for breath, he’d scooped her up. Set her on the rim of the sink. Flirty bottoms torn off, legs slung over his shoulders, she’d cried out when