Read Her Last Line of Defense for Free Online

she’d forgotten about. His black gaze flicked to her face but he didn’t change his expression.
    He probed the lining of her purse and stopped. “Here.” He pulled out a razor-sharp-looking pocketknife and slit a seam before working something out with his fingers.
    She leaned over his shoulder. “Another one,” she said dully. It was a match to the one on her shoe.
    “Want me to check your duffel bags?”
    “No.” She waved off his offer, slumping onto the bed, her shoulders hunching.
    “You think it’s your father?”
    “Who else?”
    “Disgruntled boyfriend? Someone who’s unhappy you’re leaving him for so long?” He looked down at her in concern.
    She let out a decidedly unladylike snort. “Not hardly. I haven’t even had sex in almost a year.” She slapped a hand over her mouth. Great. Now she sounded like some sort of desperate weirdo.
    He bit back a smile. “If it makes you feel better, neither have I.”
    Instead of clearing the air, their mutual admission of celibacy thickened it. The condoms on her bed beckoned. Condoms, bed and extended celibacy were a potent combination.
    Who would need to know if she made a move on him? She was leaving for San Lucas in less than a month, where the sexual opportunities were probably slim. She’d never been so bold with a total stranger, but he had shown her flashes of gentleness under his tough exterior. “Luc.” His name was strange and wonderful on her tongue as she ran her hand up his muscled forearm to where his bicep met his soft cotton T-shirt.
    He stood frozen as a statue, the only movement in his body under his tight zipper. Emboldened, she brushed her palm over his rock-hard pec, his nipple responding instantly. He closed his eyes and shuddered.
    “Luc, you feel—”
    “Dammit!” His eyes flew open and he caught her wrist.
    “What?”
    “I feel too good, that’s what. And you’d feel too good under me.” He shoved her hand away from him. “And this is why women are not allowed in Special Forces. Your skin is too smooth, your body is too soft—hell, even that sweet peachy smell coming off your hair is a dangerous distraction.”
    “You think I’m a distraction?” Despite his rejection and backhanded compliments, she was pleased.
    “I know so.” He pointed a finger at her. “And you don’t need any distractions, either. I will not be hanging around the jungles of San Lucas de la Selva ready to rescue you with my machete in my hand and my knife between my teeth. The only person you can depend on is you.”
    “How sad.”
    “What?”
    “Don’t you depend on your family? Your team?”
    “Family will not get you out of a jam if you’re far away, and your team, well…” He looked away for a second. “Sometimes your team is gone and it’s just you.”
    “Oh.”
    He stared at her. “If you don’t want to do this, back out. But if you want to have at least a fighting chance of taking care of yourself, come with me now.”
    “Now?” she squeaked. It was almost one in the morning.
    “Oui , now. That Parris Island training is bullshit. You can’t learn anything if you know you’ve got a hot shower and fluffy bed waiting for you at the end of the day. And don’t forget, your papa ’s going to hover over you with his little GPS tracker to make sure you don’t get lost—a real eye in the sky.”
    Claire’s lips tightened. In the heat of touching Luc, she’d almost forgotten about that sneaky trick. “What do I need to do?”
    “Do everything I tell you.” He pulled out a clean outfit for her and checked every item. “No tracking devices in the things. Get dressed.”
    “Okay.” Some impish impulse made her shrug off her robe and stand before him in just her nightgown. He stared at her, his eyes dark and hungry. She started to push one strap off her shoulder when he snapped out of it.
    “You, go in the bathroom, you. I’m going to my truck for a bag to pack your stuff.” He hurried out, checking the hall before he