Conquered by Angel Payne

Author:Angel Payne
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781947222403
Publisher: Waterhouse Press

Chapter Seven

“Wait a second,” Jen blurted. “John Franzen learned what?”

She was distracted from her bewilderment by the adorable twitch that took over Sam’s lips as he placed her newly poured glass of Cabernet in front of her, atop the counter separating the living room from the kitchen of the rustic two-bedroom house Nellis had set him up in for the duration of training. Outside, just beyond base perimeter, the last rays of the setting sun kissed the top of Sunrise Mountain, and a blessedly cool breeze ruffled the palm trees in the backyard. But the scenery was the best in here, where that arrogant smirk threatened to turn the triple flip in her stomach into a quadruple special. The man himself was rumpled and gorgeous in a plain white T-shirt and jeans, having finished several early morning hops, six grueling hours of debriefing, and then the mountain of personnel paperwork she’d thrown at him—which had been, as every other interaction they’d had in the last three days, a tantalizing mixture of function and flirtation. Every signature he’d given up had come with a price: a subtle reminder that while he was happy to do her bidding in the confines of her little office, he was damned and determined to repeat a night—or more—of her doing his bidding elsewhere.

And so, as the saying went, one thing led to another.

Especially as the man had scribbled his final signature right as the clock officially ticked over into quitting time.

And he’d looked up at her, face a mass of smoldering intention, saying he had a lonely bottle of Cab back at his place, all but screaming that it wanted to meet her.

And now he regarded her, his gaze about as Thor-meets-Loki as she’d ever seen it. Drenched with his hammer-god intensity but sparkling with his mischief-god flippancy.

Which turned her answering gape a hell of a lot more interesting. “Okay, now I just don’t know whether you’re messing with me or not.”

“Now, mouse, I mess with you about a lot of things—”

“You don’t say.” While they’d dropped a lot of innuendo on each other over the last three days, their dynamic had eased into casual ribbing that indeed included the man messing with her threshold of disbelief.

“But this is a bit different than makin’ you believe my tale about the Demon’s Penis.”

“Well, if you’d stopped after proving that the mountain exists, rather than telling me you climbed it in nothing but your kilt and a beanie, in the February…”

“We’re digressin’ from the point.”

“You mean the one where you make me believe stories that aren’t true until I hunt up real facts and discredit your ass?”

He scowled over the rim of his own wine. “You like my ass.”

“Your ass is mighty fine, Captain.” She arched a brow while taking a sip as well. He had been right about the Cab. The wine was a perfect blend of berries and spice, making it a great choice for an autumn happy hour. “But not when it’s helping your

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