All I had wanted was to spend some time with her, and I’d promised myself I would try to start fresh. But seeing her outside, looking so damn sexy, triggered rage inside me. Rage that she would never be mine, rage that she was only here because I’d forced her hand, rage that she was only agreeing to be around me so she’d have enough money to finish school. I wanted her to choose to stay with me because she wanted me, not because she felt being fucked by me was the only way to save her father’s ass after he stole her money.

My solitude was short-lived. Isa cautiously opened the door and headed to the sofa. Her scent filled the room—she smelled like whipped cream and strawberries.

She was wearing a tight-fitting yellow sweat suit and flip-flops with rhinestones. Despite her incredible body and heart-shaped face, she didn’t look fake or hard like a few of the celebrities and models I had met. Her smile was very genuine, and I had yet to see her in heavy makeup.

We were alone together. Truly alone.

I sat on the distressed leather sofa and just stared at the lake. My ears pounded and I cracked my knuckles.

If she wanted to, she could talk.

It only took her a few minutes.

“Can we talk? I really want to start this weekend off in a good place.”

“Shoot.”

“Okay. I want you to know that I’m not just here because of the deal with my dad. I want to be here. I want to get to know you.”

I didn’t believe her. Words were cheap. She would have to show me that she truly wanted to spend time with me. It would probably help if I stopped being such a dick.

“And the only reason I left after we hooked up that night was because I panicked,” she said.

“Panicked about what? I thought you left because you thought I was suicidal. Did you think I was going to hurt you?”

The color drained from her face, but she made strong eye contact. “For a second, yes, I believed it was possible. I mean, you had a loaded gun, were drinking, had a flashback. But not just that. I didn’t really see hope for anything beyond one night with you. I’m attracted to you. You have the best body I’ve ever seen, you’re incredible in bed, and I don’t mind your scars. Honestly, I don’t—they actually make you sexy. But you told me you didn’t believe in therapy. Neither did my mom. I’m not a psychologist, and I don’t know you that well, but I really think you need to find some type of therapy that works.”

So I had actually been wrong about her; she hadn’t wanted to save me; she’d wanted nothing to do with me. And she saw me as someone who couldn’t even take care of myself.

Though she’d saved my life by taking that bullet, I’d never admit my moment of weakness to her. Once I told her I’d attempted suicide, she’d probably bolt again.

I tried another approach.

“Look, I’ve tried every medicine I’ve been given, every talk therapy. Honest to God, nothing has worked. But I’m open. I don’t want to live like this.”

Her face seemed to shine. “That makes me happy.”

My promise to attempt more therapy seemed to soften Isa. Her shoulders relaxed and she moved closer to me on the sofa. I put my arm around her and pulled her into me. This was more like it.

“How did you find out I was on Dancing under the Stars?”

“I saw your picture in a magazine at my doctor’s office. Well, Bella’s picture, but I’d recognize you anywhere. But I think it’s cool. I’d love to see you dance.”

She shook her head. “I’ll dance with you at the ball, but I doubt I’ll ever compete again or dance like that.”

“Why’d you quit?”

She stared distantly toward the lake. “After my mom died, it was too painful. She was a dancer. Every time I stepped on the floor, I’d remember her teaching me, I’d search for her in the audience. I needed to figure out who I was without dancing, without her, without my partner.”

She paused on the word “partner.” Had that douche been her boyfriend? The thought of that slimy motherfucker touching Isa made me want to break his skinny legs. At least she wasn’t still dancing. I would never tell a woman to quit her passion, but I was certain I couldn’t handle watching another man grope my woman, wrap his hands around her waist, stroke her thighs. I’d seen that show, the tiny costumes she wore, the seductive dances they did—I’d be too consumed with jealousy to have anyone I was dating be on it.

“And the book? You feel okay with writing about what happened?”

“Yup. You were right. I want to tell my story, my way. And I need the money. I’m pretty fucked up, physically and mentally. I have to prepare for my future, especially since I’m about to get kicked out of the Corps.”

Her eyes opened wide. “I’m sorry, Grady. I had no idea. You’ll find a new career to make you happy.”

My head bobbed forward. She didn’t know shit about what made me happy. I was a warrior—that was the only thing that had mattered in my life.

“So, I’ve emailed your dad a few times and talked to him on the phone. He seems pretty cool—for a thief.”

“Ha.” She hesitated. “He’s okay. He’s going through a rough time—he really needs this break, so thank you again. Don’t worry—he’ll do a great job on your memoir.”

I winced. A father should protect and provide for his daughter, and here Isa was the one taking care of her dad, a man who’d stolen from her. But their fucked up relationship wasn’t my problem. At least she had a parent in her life. “I won’t tell him. This is the only thing I’m good for now—telling heroic war stories. Instead of shooting guns, I’m being wheeled out like a Smithsonian exhibit to make politicians feel guilty about the war and to open their wallets up.”

Her chin dipped down. “I’m sorry. I never meant to make you feel like I’m just another person who is using you. Maybe this was a stupid idea—I should’ve never asked you. Maybe we should just forget this whole idea. I feel like such a bitch.”

Damn, did this girl always try to run at the first sign of trouble?

Her chest heaved, and I decided to stop being such an asshole. I wanted her however I could have her. I was going to give this relationship, or whatever it was, everything I had.

I moved closer to her and put my arm around her. “Stay, but it’s your choice. I’m not going to force you. I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe here with me. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about our night—how you screamed my name, how sweet you taste.”

“I want to . . . I just think we moved too fast. I’d like to take some time, move slowly. Let our emotional connection catch up with our physical connection.”

I hopped off the couch and stood in front of her, our bodies inches from touching. “We’ve already slept together, baby. And I plan to fuck you every night for as long as you’re here. In fact, I’m gonna fuck you now.” I pulled her to me, needing to feel the heat of her body. “You can’t deny how hot we were together. Look me in the eye and tell me you haven’t dreamt of me, that your body doesn’t miss my touch, that you don’t ache for me.”

She looked down at her toes. “I—I want to, but I’m scared. It’s complicated. Once a picture of us gets out in the press, everything will change, you’ll see. We’re both in the public eye. People will make up stories about us. We’ll be in the tabloids. Fans, people, think they know us. They think they own you.”

“I own you.” I cupped her face and kissed her, and a shot of heat rose to my cock.

She kissed me back, deep, passionate kisses, kisses that assured me that she wanted me as much as I wanted her.

I ran my hands through her hair. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

“You, I want you. All of you.”

I controlled my breathing, wanting to take my time with her, not rush. I picked her up and placed her on the long oak coffee table.

I unzipped her sweat suit, and removed her tank top. I had never seen anything sexier than her yellow lace bra with a red bow in the middle of her ample cleavage.

I licked at her nipples through the fabric, sucking and tugging slowly until she moaned. I unhooked her bra, freeing her breasts.

She spread her legs and I slipped my arm around her waist, pulling down her pants. Matching yellow lace panties—it truly was my lucky night.

“Talk to me baby, what do you need from me?”

I could tease her all night. I dusted her with kisses, making her come alive with my mouth. I licked her thighs, around the lace border of her panties, pressing my lips to her heat, desperate to taste her.

“I—I want your tongue.”

Yes, ma’am. I hooked the edge of her panties and removed them. My tongue moved, licking her lips, savoring her taste. The image of her rubbing her nipples, her body reacting to my mouth was almost enough to make me come right then.

I pulled a condom out of my pocket and quickly undressed. She stood up and I rolled the condom over my cock, sitting down on the sofa. “Straddle me.”

She flipped her hair out of her face and climbed on my lap, slowly guiding my cock inside of her. She gasped when I slammed her deep.

I kissed her neck, buried my head into her chest and sucked on her nipples, my other hand squeezing her amazing ass. She rode me, controlling the rhythm, tossing her head back, rubbing her clit against me. The reflection on her incredible body in the window, knowing that someone could be watching us, made the moment even hotter.

“That’s it, baby. You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Her pace quickened, and I was dying to make her come harder than she ever had before. I rubbed her clit, licking her nipples, until I knew she was close, so fucking close.

“Oh, Grady, oh, baby.”

She let out a deep moan and I could feel her pussy clench. I let myself go also, the intensity of my own orgasm shocking me.

She climbed off of me and I went to the bathroom to throw away the condom.

When I returned, she’d put back on her clothes.

“Where am I sleeping tonight?”

I quickly dressed. I wasn’t ready for her to sleep next to me. I didn’t want to scare her with my night terrors. “In the guest room. Get your rest. You’ll need it. I’m going to get your things.”

I went out to her car, grabbed her bags, and returned to Isa.

I led her to the spare bedroom.

Her eyes opened wide. “This place is beautiful. Thank you for inviting me.”

She gave me a hug and I held her tightly.

“You can go anywhere except up to the third floor where I sleep, unless I invite you. I don’t sleep much, but if I’m lucky enough to crash, I don’t want to be awakened. If you need me, just press the intercom, and I’ll come downstairs.”

“Okay. Good night.”

I gave her a sweet kiss, the first kiss we’d shared that didn’t lead to sex. Then I held her tighter than I’d ever held anyone. Why did she feel so good when nothing in my life was right? Why did I want her so badly? Could she really be the one woman who could make me feel like a man again?

“Isa, I’m really glad you’re here.”