Marc left the patio door open a crack so he could hear Quinn if she called out. They seemed safe enough for now, but he didn’t like the idea of being separated, even by this little amount.

The hotel room reminded him of a high-end spa. The bathroom, with its marble floors and glass-walled shower, only emphasized that impression. Quinn certainly had luxurious tastes.

How often had she come here? Did she prefer the shower or the deep tub? An image of her lounging in the tub came to mind. Her hair would be piled on top of her head and her skin rosy with the water’s heat.

No. She preferred the pool.

Right now, she was out there floating, the water lapping at her. If he went outside, would he be able to catch glimpses of her naked skin beneath the water? He swallowed hard.

He’d better shut those thoughts down right now. He’d finally gotten her trust, mostly, and he didn’t want to blow it.

There was a knock on the door. He checked the peephole and saw Carmen with a basket in her hand.

“Some toiletries,” she said softly, handing it to him before she walked away.

He perused the basket as he locked the door behind her. Shampoos and soaps, also razors and moisturizers and even mascara. Little square packets were hidden behind the scented soaps.

Condoms.

Marc took a quick, cold shower, trying not to imagine Quinn outside, floating in the water, her hair spread out around her, her nipples peaked from the cool night air.

Fuck. This was not working.

He dressed and moved as close to the balcony door as he could without looking out. “Quinn?”

A splash.

“Yes?”

He risked a glance. Only her head showed above the pool edge. Her hair was slicked back by the water while droplets slid down her cheeks, like some kind of fucking water nymph. He quickly looked away. “I’m going to order room service. Preferences?”

“Get anything with seafood. It’s delicious here.”

“Wilco.” He perused the menu by the phone and ordered up some lobster ceviche and steak and seafood dishes.

When he hung up, he tapped his fingers on his leg. Splashing drew his attention outside once again. Shit. He needed to do something to get his mind off that woman. He pulled out his weapon to clean.

But he had nothing to clean it with. He shoved the gun back into the holster and found the remote for the TV. Surely there was some game on. He flicked through the channels filled with soaps, news programs, and little else. He settled for a news program, trying to focus on the business and politics of Colombia. It was always good to learn more about the country he was in.

Another knock sounded at the door. A glance through the peephole confirmed the food had arrived. Marc opened the door but took the trays rather than letting the man come in with the cart. He tipped the server and shut the door. The food smelled delicious even under the silver trays covering the plates. Marc stacked it all on the small coffee table in front of the couch by the patio door.

He cracked the patio door a bit wider before calling out, “The food’s here.”

Another splash of water answered him. “I’ll be in soon.”

“Right,” he muttered. Where did that leave him? Should he eat? Walk around the hotel? This evening was turning into a nightmare.

“Marc?”

He started. Holy shit. He was jumpier than a teenager on his first date. He cleared his throat. “Yeah?”

“Could you bring me a towel?”

She was trying to kill him. He grabbed a towel from the bathroom and took a deep breath as though he were headed into battle before he opened the patio door.

* * *

No one was trying to kill them.

Quinn fully relaxed as she floated in the water and stared up at the night sky. The mission was almost over. They had the flash drive and tomorrow they’d be leaving the country. They’d go their separate ways. Would Marc go to Canada?

Part of her wanted to tell him her real name. Telling her real name meant that he could find her if he wanted.

Would he want to?

A pang went through her with that question, but it didn’t matter. She wasn’t even sure what would happen after tomorrow. She had to track down Fletcher, hand over the flash drive, all the while evading Damien, who thought she was a rogue agent. How could he believe that? Who had told him that? His superior? Or was Damien dirty too? Would she be able to clear her name or was she going to end up in jail for something she hadn’t done?

The questions raced around her head. She wanted to go home. To take a break and visit her mom. See her brother. Go on a vacation.

Alone.

Quinn ducked herself under the water, swimming along the tiled bottom, flipping to her back to look up through the water at the night sky before surfacing.

It didn’t matter whether she went somewhere alone. She liked to be by herself. And if she wanted company or a man in her bed, then she’d find one.

An image of Marc coming out of the bathroom in just a towel sent heat coursing through her despite the chill of the water.

Why should she wait for a vacation that might never come, when the man she wanted—the first man she’d wanted in a long time—was inside the hotel room waiting for her? She bit her lip. Neither one of them was looking for anything serious, and it wouldn’t complicate anything considering their time for being partners was basically over.

What was the harm in one night of fun?

“The food’s here.” Marc’s voice broke into her thoughts.

She flipped upright, splashing water. “I’ll be in soon,” she called. She breathed deeply. A night of fun.

Didn’t she deserve that?

Marc was interested in her. More than interested. She’d seen the heat in his eyes.

She lifted herself out of the water. Shadows wreathed the secluded patio. The stone edge of the side of the pool was still warm from the sun. She stretched out on her stomach. Time to play temptress.

She’d only kept her knickers on in the water, but they were so transparent she might as well not be wearing any.

“Marc?” she called. Her pulse picked up speed. “Could you bring me a towel?”

Holy shite. She was doing this.

The patio door swished open. She forced herself to breathe through the tension that curled through her muscles. He was attracted to her, and she was attracted to him. Just a simple night together. Nothing that required this amount of nerves.

His quiet intake of breath made her muscles relax. It even prompted her to roll her shoulders, relaxing further the muscles that had been tight for days.

“How are you at massages?” she asked. Who had taken over her body? And whose husky voice was that?

The silence had her tensing back up, until his footsteps brought him closer. A swish of material and his body heat told her he knelt beside her.

“I’m very good,” he said quietly and then he paused. “But I can’t promise anything more than one night.”

It felt as if something cracked a little inside her with his words. She could say the same, but it made her question. “I know,” she said softly. “Is it because of Ilona?”

He didn’t move, and she turned her head to look at him. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. I shouldn’t have pried.” Why had she? Hadn’t she just wanted a night of fun? Starting a conversation about a woman he called out for in his sleep didn’t bode well for her seduction skills. But she couldn’t seem to help herself.

He sighed and his shoulders slumped just a little. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago. She’s just the reason…”

“That you can’t have a happy-ever-after?”

“That I won’t be involved again.”

The hard resolve in his voice almost made her turn over to question him further, but she remembered at the last moment she was topless. “So you haven’t had a girlfriend since?”

He laid his hands on her back. The warmth of them against her water-cooled skin distracted her and she startled. He dug his fingers into her muscles and pushed gently until she eased down. His hands began to rub up and down her back, gentle at first and then harder, working the stiffness from her muscles. She laid her head on her arm and closed her eyes.

He was going to ignore her question. Maybe it was for the best to stop prodding.

Her eyes opened when he finally answered. “I’ve dated, but nothing really serious.”

“What happened to her?” Why couldn’t she keep her mouth shut and just enjoy the moment? Perhaps it was the medic in her that knew he needed to talk about this, even if it derailed her seduction plans.

“She was a spy,” he said. “I was in Russia on assignment, and I met her.”

“You were a spy as well,” she said.

The slight squeeze of her shoulders was the only confirmation she got before he continued. “I was twenty-five and on my first assignment as a junior diplomat. One night I was in a bar chatting with some guys in the Russian military when she came in, beautiful, in distress, and looking for someone. She found him—this big, beefy guy—and she yelled something at him. He backhanded her. So of course, I had to do something to stop the guy. I punched him and saw her home.” He snorted. “I was such a fool.”

She turned her head slightly to see his face in the moonlight. His jaw was granite, and he avoided her gaze. “No, you were a hero,” she said. “You don’t wait and wonder if protecting someone is the right move. You act. It’s what heroes do.”

He shook his head as if he could shake off her words. What she said wouldn’t take away his scars, but maybe it would help him start to heal. But first the wound had to be reopened to let the poison out.

“Tell me everything,” she said.

He narrowed his eyes. “I thought you wanted a massage?”

“I want both. Tell me your story.”

“You think you’re an amateur psychologist?”

She gave him an arch look. “Did I tell you I’ve done a psychiatric rotation?”

“I believe you mentioned it. Is that even true?”

“Actually, it is.” She dropped the teasing tone. “It’ll make you feel better to talk. Tell me why you don’t think you can have a happy-ever-after.” She paused. “Please.”

His hands rubbed up and down her skin, almost absently, sending shivers through her. She didn’t prod him again, and when he finally spoke, his voice was low. “When I dropped Ilona off that night at her apartment, I thought that was all there was to it. She was beautiful and worried about her ex, but I had a job to do…”

He sighed heavily. “She was good. Had done all her research on me. I saw her at the market two days later. She had a black eye, and she cowered a little from an overly flirtatious farmer. So I saved her again. And that was all it took.” He shook his head. “We started dating within a month. I fell hard for her. She was beautiful, sweet, and kind. An elementary school teacher. Such a nice girl. Such a liar.”

His hands pushed at her muscles, and she suppressed a groan of pleasure as her heart ached at his words. Did he still love Ilona? She wanted to strike the bitch down, but instead she kept her voice even and turned her head enough so she could watch him. “How did you find out she was a spy?”

He grimaced. “It took me three months to figure it out. Three fucking months before I got past my lust and saw the inconsistencies. At least I hadn’t told her anything vital.”

“What happened when you confronted her?” Because it was Marc, and he would have confronted her.

“She tried to kill me,” he said in a blasé voice, even as his hands rubbed closer to Quinn’s sides, no longer soothing, but seducing. Her muscles tightened in response. “I left her tied up in our apartment and caught a flight home that night. I knew my cover was long gone. It was a nasty lesson.”

She lifted her head to look at him fully. “It was more than a lesson.”

“No,” he said. “It wasn’t.”

She swallowed. “What happened to her?”

His face, his eyes, went so cold. She shivered. His voice was dead flat. “She was killed. I don’t know if it was because she failed with me or if it was an accident. But she was dead a month later.”

Shit. No wonder he didn’t believe in happy-ever-afters. How did someone come back from that? Maybe they were a good match then: a man who refused to love and a woman who didn’t believe in it.

He stopped the massage. “We should get some sleep.”

But his hands didn’t lift from her back. Almost as if he waited for her next move. He was giving her an out.

An out she didn’t want. “I’m not tired,” she said softly.

His hands still didn’t move. “You’re a nice woman,” he said. “And—”

“I’m not nice,” she snapped. “And I’m not her.”

His fingers moved a little on her back, pressing into her skin. “I know,” he growled. “But you’re a do-gooder—”

“You still believe that?”

He gave a harsh laugh and trailed his hands down her back almost to her butt. Her breath sucked in. “Point. But you’re still someone I have to explain the rules to.”

“I don’t like rules.”

He leaned down so he could whisper in her ear. “Good. Neither do I.”

She shivered. He nipped her ear, and she barely suppressed her groan.

Then he withdrew, even his hands. “I’m not a long-term guy. I’m not a nice guy. The mission comes first. This is—”

With each word her heart twisted a bit more, until she couldn’t take it. Fuck him and fuck his rules. She rolled away from him and stood so she faced him. A sliver of satisfaction went through her when his words dried up. “Enough talking,” she said. If he wanted to play tough, then she could play tough too. She respected him, but that didn’t mean she wanted a forever after with him.

He was smart, courageous, and gorgeous. It was enough for tonight.

She went into the room and found a condom in the toiletry basket Carmen had brought. Hiding it in her hand, she went back out to find Marc standing almost at the patio door. His eyes devoured her.

Yes, she could handle having just one night. She straightened her shoulders, realizing only afterward that it arched her breasts out. Well, it did the job of getting his attention. His gaze zeroed in. Her skin heated, and her heart beat faster.

“One night only and the mission comes first. I get it,” she said, proud of the evenness of her tone. “I want that night. Do you?”

He closed the distance between them. A slow smile lit his face. His heated gaze felt like a caress, and her breathing quickened. “With an invitation like that, nothing could keep me away.” He reached out and cupped her face between his hands before he lowered his lips to hers.

Fire flared and surged inside her; she parted her lips, and he groaned when their tongues touched. The sound made her insides melt.

She gripped the bottom of his t-shirt and pulled it up. Marc broke the kiss for a brief moment to rip the shirt up and over his head. Her hands roamed over his chest, tracing ridges of hard muscle, caressing down the rock wall of his abdomen, even as she thrust her own chest toward his, her nipples making contact with his hot skin. The thrill of it tightened them to pebbles and she gave a little moan.

“Fuck,” he muttered and grabbed her wrists. “I’m going to lose control.” He kissed her neck, even as he walked her backward, still holding her wrists captive.

“Maybe you should.” She panted, arching her neck to give his mouth more room to play.

Her back hit the wall, and he dragged her hands overhead, pressing his chest and hips into hers. She gasped at the contact and rubbed herself against him. He held both her wrists in one hand. She could have broken free, but his show of dominance sent a thrill through her so she went with it.

His other hand cupped one of her breasts, and he rubbed his thumb over her nipple, making her cry out. He dragged his mouth down and took the other nipple into his mouth. Lightning flared from her breast to between her legs. She moaned and twisted, trying to get more. He tightened his grip on her wrists.

“Keep your hands up,” he said in a rough voice.

And then he dropped to his knees in front of her. Her knickers were gone in the next instant. He held her hips still and looked up at her. His eyebrow arched as he eyed her hands, which had dropped almost to shoulder height. She smiled and raised them higher. She could play by his rules.

For now.

He looked at her. “You’re gorgeous.”

The words made her want to simultaneously hide herself and bare herself to him. She chose courage and pulled her shoulders back, keeping her hands above her head, and smiled down at him. “So are you. When are you going to lose the pants?”

“Patience, Red.”

His mouth lowered to her. She sucked in a breath even as her heart stuttered and leapt. She couldn’t catch her breath. Each lick and suck drew moans from her, heat surging in her, making her hips wiggle until Marc held them still. He kept licking until her knees threatened to buckle. Her heart thundered in her chest. She was almost there.

And then he stopped and stood. No! She groaned and arched her hips toward him.

Marc grinned. “I can’t wait anymore.” He kissed her breasts, her neck, and then took her lips before getting rid of his pants. Her hands dropped, and she passed him the condom.

“So prepared,” he murmured. “I like it.” He ripped open the package, and she took it from him. He placed his hands on the wall on either side of her, enclosing her in his space. His thick length enticed her, and she grasped it before she rolled on the protection.

Marc’s breathing increased with her touch, and she smiled before she stroked him again.

His forehead dropped to hers. “That feels so fucking good.”

“Wait until you feel my mouth.”

Heat flared in his eyes. “I look forward to that.” Then Marc gripped her hips and lifted while she wrapped her legs around him.

It was a private patio, but still outside. It felt decadent and debauched, wicked and wild. She bit Marc’s lower lip lightly before abandoning herself to another of his kisses. He growled deep in his throat as he nudged her entrance. “So wet,” he murmured.

She bit his ear next. “I’m done being patient.”

He half laughed, half groaned before he thrust himself inside her, stretching her deliciously, making her gasp. He pulled out and plunged in again before she could center herself. And again. She dug her nails into his shoulders, trying to hold on during the surging heat and pleasure.

Deeper. Her back pressed against the cool stone of the building.

Harder. She wrapped her legs tighter around Marc’s waist, holding on however she could.

Faster. He thrust with abandon.

She couldn’t keep up. Her insides began to tighten. Just a little. Bit. More.

Marc pressed her harder into the wall. She could only whisper what she wanted in his ear.

Yes. More. Harder. Faster.

Then all of her muscles tightened in a moment where the world went white, just before it shattered. She cried out as her insides clenched over and over. Marc shoved himself into her and groaned her name with his release.

Her muscles relaxed slowly, and she let Marc hold all of her weight. Both breathed raggedly. Her head dropped to his shoulder. She licked his skin there, tasting him.

Marc shuddered and breathed deeply.

She licked him again, just a flick of her tongue.

Marc pulled back and looked at her, a sexy challenge in his gaze. “I think we need to try out the bed.”

She grinned when he carried her to the patio door. “It looks nice and sturdy.”

“You’re a woman after my own heart.”

She ducked her head so he wouldn’t see her grin falter. It was too bad he had no heart left to give.