Page 74 of What Doesn't Kill You…

Her legs came around him in a scissor motion, then he toppled, finding himself on his back with Violet on top of him.

"On fire," he whispered. "You're on fire."

Her delighted smile rendered him incapable of thought. It was the kind of smile that would make a man do anything, give anything, just to see it one more time. And it was directed at him. He reached up, with trembling fingers, to trace the miraculous smile. His, he thought.

His Violet.

Cheeks flushed, eyes dark with sensual promise, she pinned his arms above his head.

"My turn," she declared.

Max didn't have a chance to argue because she angled her hips, lining his hard length up with her wet heat, and plunged down onto him.

A primal roar erupted from him, and before he could even register what was happening, she was moving to her own sensual rhythm. With great effort, he opened his eyes and found Violet staring down at him.

Lightning shot between them. The air charged with need. He half expected to see her hair take flight around her face. She was magnificent. Completely without artifice, just raw sensuality that made no excuses. This was pure Violet. Unapologetic and uninhibited. Taking what she wanted and giving everything in return. He'd never seen anything so sexy in his entire life. Never wanted anyone more.

She humbled him.

He felt his body clench, his heart race, his breath come in bursts. Still, he held her gaze. The challenge in her eyes was meant for him. She dared him to look away and he refused to succumb to temptation. Her lips parted as her rhythm faltered. He felt her tense and knew she was close. He was too.

"Kiss me," he said, unsure if it was a plea or an order.

Her eyelashes lowered as she considered his request. And then she granted it, her mouth covering his. Max's hips surged up to meet her as their tongues tangled with desperation. And, with one loud groan, they met in a final explosion that tore them both apart.

Violet collapsed on top of him. In much the same position they'd started, only this time they were naked and joined in the most intimate of ways. Max flattened his palms on her back, feeling her heart thud under his touch. He caressed her with long, soothing strokes, comforting her. Comforting both of them. Reassuring himself this was real, and she was still there.

In one of those rare moments that always shocked him, he didn't know what to say. Then he realized it didn't matter. Because Violet was already asleep.

Smiling into the night, he joined her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

"Boss, you need to wake up. We've got a problem."

Rochelle opened her eyes to the words every field operative dreaded hearing, and saw Evan standing in the doorway of her bedroom.

"Out in a second," she said, waving him away.

Once he was gone, she quickly got dressed, choosing a pair of linen pants, a cotton shirt, and some sandals in deference to the heat. She tied her hair in an elastic as she walked down the hallway to the living area. Through the windows, she could see the sun rising in the distance, and outside she could hear the market setting up for the day.

Evan was at the dining table, laptops open in front of him. She glanced at his clothes, noting they were the same ones he'd had on the day before, and wondered if he'd managed to get any sleep at all.

"What’ve you got?" she said, standing beside him, her eyes on the screens.

"One of the other listening devices went live a few minutes ago," he said as he hit a button. "I'm assuming Damien wandered into a room with a bugged plant. Anyway, he took a phone call. Listen."

Damien's voice oozed from the speakers. "What do you mean you don't trust the island?" He sounded tense. A man on the edge. "I've got this place locked up tight. Every man working for me is pulling double shifts. Security has never been better."

There was a pause while he listened to his caller.

"I thought you were flying in and getting the charter as usual? What if somebody recognizes your friend's yacht?"

There was the sound of footsteps. Maybe Damien was pacing.

"Okay, no, I get it. Nobody knows he's your friend, so the yacht is probably safe. But I don't see why you can't just dock your borrowed yacht here. It's safe, especially at night. I've got my men covering every inch of this island, and my private dock is well hidden. Nobody will see you."

The pacing suddenly stopped.