High Octane (Texas Hotzone 2)

“Did I mention it was hot?” he asked.

She blasted him with a look meant to ice the fire burning between them. It only stoked him further. Everything about her lit him up. “You’re very sexy when you’re mad.”

Disbelief flickered in her face. “Are you trying to make me feel better or worse?” she demanded, and then cut her gaze, shoving at his chest. “Let me by. I can’t do this, Ryan. That’s not who I am.”

Ryan held his steely position, gently capturing her wrists. “You think this is all about sex?”

Her eyes flashed with challenge, her cute pointed chin tilting upward. “Isn’t it?”

“No,” he said. “Or yes. I have no idea. How can I? How can you? We just met. But whether it turns out we’re both living out some fantasy about a politician’s daughter and a cowboy, or maybe something deeper, the only mistake is calling this a mistake before we find out.”

Her lips parted. “A fantasy about a politician’s daughter and a cowboy?”

“I’m teasing you,” he said, running his hands up and down her slender waist. “Well, mostly teasing. Sabrina. Seriously. You just left New York. I just left the military. Let’s explore together and see where it goes. Whatever you want, whatever you need, I’m the guy you can do it with, and it stays with me. Hell, I know government secrets that could get me killed.”

“Killed?” she asked. “Who would kill you?”

He shook his head. “My point is that anything you want to explore with me is just with me. Between us. And if that is sex, or if it’s a movie, or a place you want to go, or whatever, that’s cool. Let’s just have some fun and see where it goes. You’re safe with me. In fact—” he released her and stepped back “—we won’t have sex until you say we have sex. I won’t pressure you. I won’t even make a move. I’ll want to and it’ll be torture, but—” he held his hands up “—I’ll wait until you say you’re ready. Which, by the way, won’t be easy, but I’m committed to the cause.”

“I decide?” she asked, incredulously. “I can’t decide.”

“Why not?”

“That’s too much pressure.”

He wiggled an eyebrow. “We could spend the day making love and put the anticipation and nerves behind us. Certainly won’t hear any complaints from me.” Especially after he’d spent the entire night thinking about just that, something no other woman had ever done to him.

With a look of amazement, she accused, “You really say whatever comes to mind, don’t you?”

He pressed his hands on the counter behind him. “Would you rather I play political word games?”

“No,” she said quickly. “No political games, please. Most definitely not.” Her hands went to her sides for emphasis. “Stay as you are.”

Her answer pleased him, though he doubted she knew how poisonous those political games she’d come to despise could really be, or the blood they could spill. He did, though. He did and he’d left it behind.

“Then we agree,” he said approvingly. “We shoot straight with each other. That leaves only having one last thing to address.”

“Do I dare ask?” she teased, obviously relaxing a bit now. She laughed, a soft musical sound he felt like a punch in the gut. His groin tightened, zipper expanded. What the hell was he thinking, promising to keep his hands off her?

“You should always dare, darlin’,” he told her, hoping she’d dare sometime soon. He snagged his wallet from his pocket, retrieving a business card. “We have to secure that interview of yours so I can secure my official date night.” He was already punching a number into his cell.

“I’m supposed to call Calista Monday,” she said and frowned. “Who are you calling?”

“Hey, Calista,” Ryan said, noting with amusement the surprised, appalled look on Sabrina’s face. “I have Sabrina here with me.” He pressed his hand over the receiver and eyed Sabrina. “Can you talk to her now?”

“I can’t believe you did this!” she whispered sharply. “I’m not prepared.”

“Saying no doesn’t require preparation,” he said, and offered her the phone.

She pursed her lips and took the phone, covering the receiver. “I’m going to get you for putting me on the spot.”

“Sounds fun,” he teased.

Glowering, she promptly gave him her back, and then spoke into the phone. “Hi, yes. Thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed it. Yes. I… What time? Okay. Yes. I can find it. Sure. See you then.”

She whirled on Ryan. “I have to go meet her for brunch at the Barton Creek Country Club.”

“No, you don’t,” he said. “The deal was you talk to her, and you get your interview. You just talked to her.”

“Talking to her means hearing her out, Ryan,” she said. “I have to go.”

“You don’t.”

“I do.”

“I’ll call Marco.”

“No,” she said, setting his phone on the granite counter. “I don’t want to mess up in case he won’t give me my interview. I need to go change. I have to meet her in an hour.”