They left Nora’s car in the Bureau lot and headed for the beach. He was relieved by her silence as he drove. It was one of the things he enjoyed most about being with her. She had no compulsion to fill the vacuums in their conversation, and they’d spent hours working side by side, each lost in their own thoughts as they dug through data, listened to audio surveillance, formulated theories and plans.

The lights from the buildings downtown glowed red and yellow beyond the highway, finally falling away in favor of the flat urban sprawl outside the city. He tried to keep his mind on Locke and their meeting, on what would come next, but he couldn’t concentrate on anything but the woman next to him, her thigh inches from his in the Saab.

He’d been thinking about her all day, a constant presence in the back of his mind as he’d discussed his proposition with Locke Montgomery. As he’d begun putting into place the pieces for a new life — one that was dangerous, reckless, some would even say foolish.

And yet nothing he’d discussed with Locke compared to his memories of Nora on the beach the night before, her cheek soft against his palms, her mouth warm and welcoming. He imagined the rest of her body, naked and pliable as he sunk into her like a warm lagoon.

His cock stirred in his jeans and he shifted in the driver’s seat, clenching his hands around the steering wheel. He turned to look at her, taking in the beauty of her face lit by the street lamps around them. It only made him want her more.

They pulled off the freeway and headed west. Everything was flat, the road flanked by strip malls, fast food joints, and diners as they made their way into the South Bay and the string of beaches west of Los Angeles. By the time they crested the hill on 190th Street, the beach lit up below, his need for her had grown into a bone-deep ache.

He turned right at the water and kept driving past her street.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“My place,” he said. “That okay?”

She nodded, unable to hide the surprise that shaded her features before she turned her face to the window. He didn’t blame her. They’d only been to his apartment a handful of times. It had been by design, an attempt to keep her at a distance.

And it hadn’t done a damn bit of good.

He pulled into the carport at the back of his building and cut the engine, then got out of the car and hurried to open her door. He caught a scent of her as she stepped past him — warm vanilla and an undercurrent of bourbon — and his hard-on lengthened in his jeans.

He took her hand, led her up the stairs of his building. He was glad there was no elevator to confine them. He didn’t know if he would have been able to keep his hands off her inside a small space. It was already all he could do not to spin her against the wall of the building, press his body against hers, feel her curves molding to his hardness as he slipped a hand inside her jeans, let his fingers slide into her wetness. He drew the brisk ocean air into his lungs, trying to clear his head of the desire that was closing in on him like a drug.

They reached the top floor and he removed his keys, unlocked the door, pushed it open. He waited as she walked through, hesitating on the threshold like she knew nothing would ever be the same once she walked through it.

He shut the door, watched her walk into the open living room. She made her way to the big window that offered up a prime water view during the day. The lights from the walk street outside lit up her face: the high cheekbones, full mouth, heart-shaped face.

She turned to look at him. “What are you doing?”

“Watching you.”

She shrugged a little. “Why?”

There was so much honesty in the question. Like she really didn’t know why he would want to look at her.

Like she really didn’t know how beautiful she was.

He pushed off the door, walked slowly toward her, stopping when only an inch separated their bodies. He reached down, lay his palm against her cheek, rubbed his thumb against her skin.

“Because for years I’ve had to sneak glimpses of you. And now I want to really see you.”

She was breathing heavy as he looked down at her, a flush spreading from her cheeks to the barely-visible cleavage under her black T-shirt. “I want to see you too.”

“You’re going to see me, Nora.” He lowered his head, stopping when his lips were almost touching hers. “And you’re going to feel me, too.”

He pressed his mouth to hers, slipped his tongue inside as he angled his head, already needing to take the kiss deep. Needing to taste every inch of her mouth, to prove to himself that she was real.

That this was real.

Her hands slid around his waist, traveled up his back as she pressed herself against him. The feel of her stomach against his rigid cock sent a shockwave of desire through him. It blocked out everything else, and for a long moment he was lost to the sensation of her mouth, the warmth of her body, separated from his only by the thin layer of clothes. He already knew what it would feel like to sink into her, to feel her smoothness under him as he took her.

Her hands came back around to his chest, traveling over his pecs, down to his stomach as she kissed him feverishly, matching the urgency of his tongue stroke for stroke. He growled when she flattened her hand against the bulge in his pants, her small palm cupping the erection that had been torturing him for the last two hours.

Hell, for the last five years.

He took hold of her wrist, not trusting himself under her touch. “I’ve waited years for this moment, Nora. And if you touch me I won’t be able to wait a second longer.”

She looked up into his eyes. “I don’t care.”

“I care.” He swept her into his arms, surprised by how light she was. She was so formidable at work. A warrior. But he’d always suspected she was all softness and warmth underneath it all.

Now he was ready to find out.

He made his way through the dark apartment, down the hall, and into the bedroom. He set her on the bed, then turned to open the windows, letting in a gust of salty air on the night breeze. He turned to look at her, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Waiting for him.

“Take off your clothes, Nora.”

She lifted her chin, leaned back on the bed, propping herself up on her forearms. “Take them off yourself.”

He stalked slowly toward her, wishing her defiance wasn’t such a fucking turn-on. It would only make taking his time more difficult. If she’d been anyone else, he would have laid down the law; the bedroom was his domain.

He was in control here. He made the rules.

But she wasn’t anyone else. She was the woman of his dreams. He would still be in control when push came to shove, but he would take it slow.

He stopped at the bed, looked down at her. “We’re playing by my rules now, Nora. Now please take off your clothes.”

A small smile crept onto her face as she stared him down through the moonlight making its way into the room. He thought she might argue, rebel. Instead she sat up, pulled off her T-shirt. His eyes were still glued to the magnificent swell of her breasts, barely hidden by a lacy pink bra, when she unbuttoned her jeans, lowered the zipper, lifted her hips off the bed as she shimmied them down her hips.

He almost couldn’t breathe as she tossed them aside, her porcelain skin glowing in the darkness. She was naked except for the bra and a matching scrap of fabric that covered the mound between her legs, just enough hidden to push his imagination into overdrive.

When she spoke, her voice was husky. “That’s as far as I go without you. You’re going to have to meet me halfway, Kane.”

He stripped off his shirt, then unbuttoned his pants, dropped them to the floor. His cock sprang free, both a relief and further torture with the refuge of Nora’s body so close.

He stood at the edge of the bed, ran his palms up her delicate feet to her smooth calves. Then he hooked his hands behind her knees and pulled her to the edge of the bed.

He knelt between her legs, inhaling the scent of her. “I think you’ll find I’m willing to meet you more than halfway.”