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teasing until his lips returned to hers. Instead of struggling for words, she growled, tugging at his uniform.
    His fingers pressed against the front seal to hers, slowly unfastening it to expose her throat and the rise of her chest. Her pulse raced as she waited for his touch on her skin.
    The door chimed loudly in the silence of the room, accompanied by an obnoxious round of knocking.
    She leaped back, muttering a string of curses.
    Still seated on the corner of the bed, he raised his eyebrows in amused surprise. She gave even odds as to whether his amusement came from her sudden position a yard away or because most of what she’d said described the anatomically impossible, unless one was a heavily modified hermaphrodite.
    “Identification,” she snarled the audible to activate the room’s comm link as she strode toward the entrance.
    “Messenger. Requires retinal scan for delivery.”
    “What the fuck?” She palmed the door open, aware of Rygard behind her. He stayed out of sight, covering her, however casual his posture. Warmth spread through her chest and a smile tickled the corners of her mouth. A man strong enough to cover her six, how hot was that? Very.
    A messenger boy stood there, scrawny and skittish. The scent of rancid soda, body odor and good coffee clung to his jumper. Well, she knew where he’d picked up the package and who had sent it to her. It wouldn’t have a sender ident.
    She took the retinal scanner from him and underwent the required imprint. Once it beeped an affirmative, the kid handed over his parcel and scuttled off down the hallway. She palmed the door closed and hit the privacy indicator. It’d have to be a stationwide emergency to get the door open again. She turned to put the box on the little counter by the entryway.
    “What’s the delivery?” Resting one hand on her hip, Rygard used the other to brush her hair off one shoulder. She held still, giving him the opening. He pressed a kiss against her neck, sending shivers across her skin.
    “Not worried about it.” She leaned against him, very aware of how comfortably she fit against him.
    The hand at her hip squeezed. “It’s marked for immediate attention. Whoever sent it spent the cred.”
    He made a good point.
    She started to open the package, but he began trailing a string of kisses down her neck, alternating nibbles and light suction. Okay, giving him her neck felt good. He had eased his grip on her hip and massaged instead. His groin pressed into her ass, the hard ridge of his erection settling against her.
    “I thought I was supposed to open this.” Her voice sounded husky.
    “Mmm. And I’ll focus on the package I want to unwrap.”
    “Oh.” And she melted, right there, under the heat of his hands and lips.
    Abruptly, he stopped, swatting her behind as he stepped away. “Open your package, sweetness.”
    She bit back a snarl, rubbing the mild sting. No one had ever spanked her and come away unmarked. But his lazy grin returned as he waited for her, and the temper faded into a different kind of heat. Well, maybe she’d mark him, in a way he’d enjoy.
    She narrowed her eyes in a mock glare before turning her attention to the delivery. Removing the wrapping revealed a puzzle box. Fantastic. She planned to fill Boggle’s hideaway with dry ice to chill the little perv off. It took two tries, and some muttered cursing before she figured out the barely discernable icons.
    Inside she found a sleek little jamming unit and a palm-sized comp. At her touch, the screen of the comp came alive, text and images scrolling. The data represented a background check on one Lieutenant Christopher Rygard and a single line message. He’s clean. Turn on the jamming unit for the rest of the night.
    Aw. Boggle was good people after all.
    Then another realization sank in. Shit. He’d been tapped into surveillance on the station, confirming that sensors were installed inside her room. Privacy must not exist, even in a luxury