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With a soft laugh, he tugged lightly at her hair. “Earth to Mel.”

“I’m here.”

He looked at her for a moment. “That was a tough flight, and I meant what I said. You pulled it off with grace.”

“Imagine that. Me with grace.”

He didn’t laugh with her. In fact, his face remained utterly solemn as he lifted his other hand and cupped her face.

Oh, God. “Don’t,” she said shakily.

“Don’t what? Touch you?”

“Right. And don’t look at me like that, either. Like you’re proud of me, like you care about me.”

“Too bad, since both apply.”

“No, they don’t. Not really.” She took a step back. “Look, I’m a difficult woman-”

“Wow, there’s a news flash.”

“I’m serious.”

“Me, too. Now, about that servicing.”

Her entire body leapt to attention at that, and she took another step back. Her thighs hit the mattress.

He came forward some more, and her hands came up to his chest. Beneath her fingers she could feel the steady beat of his heart. Hers wasn’t nearly as steady, but she told herself that that was lingering adrenaline from the flight. She opened her mouth to say something, she had no idea what, but her cell vibrated in her pocket. The ID was foreign, possibly Mexican, and now her poor overworked heart skipped a beat entirely.

Bo cut his eyes to the cell. “Sally.”

She hurriedly flipped it open. “Hello?” Nothing. “Hello? Sally?”

More nothing.

She and Bo stared at each other. “Bad connection,” she said slowly, closing the phone with great reluctance. They looked at it for a long moment, both more strained than they’d been on the crazy flight here, but it didn’t ring again.

“Call back,” Bo said tightly.

She punched in all the numbers, then locked gazes with him while it rang somewhere far away, her heart pounding, pounding…

No one answered.

“It could have been a wrong number,” she murmured. “Not Sally-”

Bo put a finger over her lips, his eyes hot, dark, and fascinating. “I can take a lot, Mel, and have, but no more lies, not from you.”

She’d hurt him. She hadn’t meant to, but she had. When he’d first shown up here, she’d been prepared to hate him on principle, had wanted to hate him. But then he’d brought in customers when she couldn’t. He’d kept the employees when maybe he shouldn’t. He’d given her a lease that set her up for a good long time.

He hadn’t sold…

At least not yet.

All of which was more than she could say for Sally, who’d vanished on them, no warning, no help, nothing.

In sharp contrast, Bo had been here for her, for all of them, and no anger could hold up to that. “I’m not lying to you,” she said, and waited until he met her gaze. “I really don’t know where she is, I swear it. I never have.”

“What about the money you sent her?”

“Always electronically to her account.”

“So who’s trying to warn you off digging for more info, Mel?”

She closed her eyes. “I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. It’s her.” He put his hand against her throat, then slid his fingers into her hair, lightly tugging on her ponytail so he could stare deep into her eyes. She did her best to convey her honesty, but knew he had no reason to trust her.

“What else aren’t you telling me?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

She licked her lips, and his gaze dropped to them, his eyes glittering. “Seriously,” she said. “You know it all now.”

He waited, every muscle tense.

“No more lies, Bo,” she whispered. “I promise.”

“That’s quite a promise.”

“I mean it.”

He laughed a little harshly, but then he lowered his head so that he was a mere breath away. Their gazes locked, held…

And then he kissed her, and all wondering and worrying went out the window along with her good intentions and common sense. He changed the angle of the kiss to suit him, opening his mouth, sliding his tongue to hers in a dance as old as time. “Mel,” he breathed, just that, and clamped her head between his big hands, nibbling, licking, sucking, and all around driving her right off the edge of sanity and straight into lust-ville. She was clinging to him, whimpering, panting, desperate, when he pulled back.

“Say it again,” he demanded.

She tried to take a step back, and fell onto the mattress.

Bo stepped between her thighs, leaning over her, staring into her eyes with a single-mindedness that brought her out of her fog, barely. “Say it. Say ‘no more lies, Bo.’”

She blinked. Focused past the sensual haze in her brain. “Is that why you kissed me?”

“When I kiss you, you become the real Mel, no holding back, no lies, no façades. Just you. It’s like a truth serum.”

She stared up at him, hurt sneaking in past her defenses. She’d nearly torn off her clothes and begged him to take her. “That’s a horrible thing to do. Get out of my room.”

“Gee, you must be done talking.”

“I’m done with you.”

Still leaning over her, a hand on either side of her hips, he shook his head. “Look at that, another lie already.”

“What does that mean?”

“Come on, you feel the sparks, too.”

“Yeah, sparks of temper!”

“Yet another lie,” he said very softly.

She let out a frustrated growl.

“Fact is fact, darlin’. Our bodies are happy together.”

She shook her head.

“Look at me.”

She couldn’t help it, her gaze ran over him. His well-worn jeans softly cupped his sex, which was obviously aroused. Her mouth went dry.

Worse, she began to perspire again.

“Now you,” he said.

She transferred her attention to her body, specifically her own breasts and her traitorous nipples, which poked through her shirt like two gumballs.

He arched a brow.

She crossed her arms.

“Doesn’t help,” he said. “Now I’m wondering what other parts of you are reacting.”

Her thighs actually quivered, and between them…more quivering.

As if he could tell, he smiled.

She was shaking as she pointed to the door, because damn, she really hated when he was right. “Get out.”

Instead, he laughed. “You don’t really mean that.”

She opened her mouth to say she did, but the message didn’t make it all the way to her brain, and as he came down over her, arms closing possessively around her, she didn’t say a word. Instead she moaned his name and met his mouth with hers.

Chapter 21

There was kissing, and then there was kissing, and with Bo it was an art form.

Mel had had lovers, a few who even knew what they were doing, but none had ever made her knees quiver with just a touch of their mouth. None had ever made her feel as if his kiss was more important in that moment than breathing.

None had ever made her feel soft and beautiful and feminine.

With Bo, she could hold on and feel her world slide away, feel despair and stress and churning grief over Sally and her deception vanish behind the maelstrom of need and desire and hunger for more of this man’s touch. She felt-crazy as it seemed-calmer. So when his tongue teased hers, she teased back. When he reached for her shirt, she did the same with his, coaxing a rough sound of pleasure from his throat, one she helplessly mirrored back to him.

“Love that sound,” he murmured, pulling her closer, kissing her as if he meant to inhale her, pressing himself against her as if he needed to be inside her now, now, now…making an unbearably sexy noise when his thumb rubbed over a pebbled nipple and it tightened even further.

She’d had no idea how badly she’d wanted this, but she needed to remember one pesky little fact: he’d kissed her simply to get information. That made this a very bad idea. “Wait,” she gasped.