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Oh God!

Transfixed, she watched as he stripped off his clothes. Stood straight and tall under her gaze. That chiseled face. The powerful body. The enormous, proud erection.

She began to tremble. There was nothing subtle in his message.

He wanted her to see him in all his primitive male savagery before he wreaked his vengeance on her.

Matthew dove into the pool.

Mia turned, scrambled up the water-slicked rocks, and began to run.

She was running. Running for her life.

Matthew stepped from the water. Good. He wanted her afraid. Terrified. Wanted her to know what it felt like to fear his retribution.

He waited until the trees swallowed her. He knew what lay ahead when the forest thickened. Brambles. A thicket of wild rose.

Nothing would slow him.

He’d been trained for running his quarry to ground.

Now he set off after her. He moved quickly, silently, avoiding the branches that reached out to snare him, dodging the brambles.

There. She was just ahead of him. He quickened his pace, closed the gap between them, caught her in his arms and spun her around. She was panting for breath; her hair was wild, and he told himself the swift surge of joy he felt was only what a hunter felt when he brought down his prey.

“Hello, Mia.”

“Matthew.” Her hands rose between them. She pushed at his shoulders. “Whatever you think—”

“Whatever I think, it’s wrong. Is that what you were going to say?”

“Yes. Yes! I know how it seems. I know what Douglas said. But—”

“But he lied.”

“Yes.” She drew a sobbing breath. “He and I were never involved. How could I have slept with a man I despised, Matthew? How?”

“Maybe the same way you slept with me.” His mouth twisted. “As if it were all part of a game you had to play and win.”

“I was playing a game. With Douglas. Not with you. Never with—”

Matthew caught her hands and crushed them against his chest.

“Then, why didn’t you tell me the truth? All you had to say was, ‘Matthew, I’m on the run because I work for the Agency. I was sent to Cartagena to spy on Douglas Hamilton. That’s why he wants me back. Because I’m a spy.’”

“How could I tell you that?” Her eyes met his. “I didn’t know you. I didn’t know anything about you, except that you were working for Douglas.”

“I told you that I wasn’t.”

“But you were. He asked you to find me and take me back to him, and that’s what you were doing. How could I trust you? How could I tell you the truth about me?”

It was a reasonable question but he wasn’t in the mood for reason. It was hard enough holding Mia in his arms, feeling her naked body against his, inhaling her scent, without trying to deal in logic.

“I might buy that,” he said roughly, “but then things changed between us.” His mouth thinned. “A man expects a woman to be honest with him after he fu—”

Somehow, she wrenched her hand free. She hit him, her palm stinging his face.

“Don’t you dare call it that,” she said in a shaky whisper. “We made love. You know we did. It wasn’t—it wasn’t dirty or cheap or—”