Her Last Protector. Jeanie London

danced a little jig at the sight she made with her long legs stretched out before her, her hair threading around the swell of her lovely breasts.

      Christ, he was in trouble here.

      That thought was unavoidable as he used the last of the kindling. He’d be heading outside again soon. He should plunge himself into the snow while he was out there. He didn’t think even the blizzard would cool him off.

      He coaxed more of the sappy kindling to life with the glowing embers, carefully stoking the fire back while he considered Mirie’s words.

      And the stab of pride at her opinion of him.

      He had a life even though she couldn’t see it. He served his country and carried out his mission objective. He had only sacrificed the normal life he had never been much interested in anyway, for a much more noble cause.

      Like Mirie herself, although she had been born to her cause. But she didn’t see his life from his perspective, and she didn’t sound as if she was all that content with her own.

      Loneliness was eating away at her bit by bit.

      He wasn’t surprised.

      “I guess from your perspective it doesn’t seem like much of a life.” Distance helped him get a grip.

      “Sounds a lot like my life.” She finally pulled on the cloak to cover her exquisite nakedness.

      He snorted while tucking a branch deep into the embers.

      “What?” she asked.

      “I thought the same thing.”

      He hadn’t meant the admission as an invitation, but she took it as one. Suddenly, she was covering the small distance between them, kneeling before the growing fire, stretching out her hands to embrace the heat.

      Drew only heaved an inward sigh. He wanted her to warm herself, wished her nearness didn’t test him and her discontent didn’t add to his defenselessness against her.

      She saw only how he trailed after her around the clock, not living a life that would fit anyone’s description of normal. Because she didn’t live a normal life, either. She had once run through these mountains, flirting with the boys, giving her virginity to the one she had allowed to catch her.

      Now she gave herself to the only man within her grasp to stave off the grief of her losses. What a waste.

      “You’ve been working on a miracle,” he said, hoping to lend her perspective. And some encouragement, which she didn’t hear enough as far as Drew was concerned. “Once the government stabilizes and the economy shows some improvement, you’ll get back to a normal life again. Then, so will I.”

      She faced him with a scowl. “By the time this political situation stabilizes, I’ll be ready for the grave like Bunică.”

      “Your Royal Highness,” he chided.

      To his surprise, she scooted toward him, coming up full against him and wrapping her arms around his waist. “Drei, call me by my name.”

      Her breasts pressed against his back, and for a man who’d just spent himself in a big way, Drew’s body was on red alert again before he had a chance to suck in a breath.

      He was in such trouble here. The very thought of her name on his lips collided with the memory of his body inside her, and he found himself clutching the stick hard enough that the damned thing broke. Wet wood. Go figure.

      But it was the anchor he needed to resist turning around and grabbing her, pulling her against him and going for round two. There’d been no contact with the general. It was just the two of them, stranded here, alone.

      She was upset. He got that. He also understood her isolation. He saw her life up close. He lived it. His own wasn’t much better except for the occasional furloughs. But unless they got back to normal between them, this “interlude” could only cost them. And cost big.

      They were protector and the princess he’d been hired to protect. Period.

      “Princess Mirela of Ninsele.”

      “Drei.” She strung out his name on a long melodic syllable that reminded him of her earlier song.

      Had it only been hours since the funeral?

      The world had shifted since then.

      “Mirela Selskala,” he tried again, earning only a huff of exasperation.

      Then she surprised him by sinking backward, pulling him off balance and dragging him with her.

      Suddenly they were tangled together in the weather cloak, too close to the fire, and Drew was forced to roll over and take her with him. She seized the advantage and twisted in his arms until she straddled him.

      And Drew was already so far gone he didn’t resist. Couldn’t. Not when she lifted her mouth to his again in an unspoken demand and laughed that silken laughter that he never heard anymore, hadn’t realized how much he missed.

      The last thing in the world Drew should do right now was give in. The absolute last. He’d do better to put the pistol in his mouth and pull the trigger.

      But when she rocked her hips, swaying until she had his reawakening erection trapped between her smooth thighs, he could only ride out the motion and try to hide that she was about to shake loose any possibility of resistance.

      But she already knew because she sighed softly and swayed erotically, opening herself to him, and he finally gave in. Arching his hips, he found her softness, and thrust home with her name spilling from his lips.

      “Mirie.”

      CHAPTER FIVE

      MIRIE HAD ONLY wanted a moment, had asked for right now. By definition that meant their interlude in the cave wouldn’t last forever, yet when Drei tugged on the harness she wore and asked, “Ready?” she wanted to shake her head with an emphatic no.

      A strange sense of panic took hold now that they were dressed again. She wasn’t ready to leave, wasn’t ready to face the aftermath of her choices.

      And she wasn’t ready to end her time with Drei.

      Not when she had felt more alive during these fantasy hours together than she had in a very long time.

      “Yes,” she said. No!

      He only nodded, so terribly distant.

      She couldn’t read his mood. The handsome face that had been hungry with arousal and so alive with pleasure had solidified into an expression that should have been familiar.

      In some ways it was. She recognized the features, but had never understood that the impassive facade was a mask. She had glimpsed the real him today.

      The intimacy they shared made him a familiar stranger. The difference was striking enough to unsettle her. As she had dressed, she felt uncertain, as if somehow putting on clothes together had been more monumental than taking them off. Her nerves were playing games with her, making her thin-skinned after too many conflicting emotions, too many memories in a short span of time. The memories alone had always unsettled her.

      But all was well now. Or should have been.

      General Bogdanovich had made contact. The attackers had long since escaped, and when the storm eased up enough for travel, her close-protection unit had arrived to retrieve her. They were above on the ridge. They’d sent down dry clothing and gear so she could safely make the ascent.

      Mirie should be relieved the threat was over, and grateful to be alive. But when she looked at Drei, securing his own harness with the hands that had just held her, pleasured her, she felt a pang of...something, and her breath hitched in her throat at the physical intensity of the sensation.

      He glanced up. The hard lines of his face softened, and she could see past the mask. His eyes caressed her as if he might never see her again. She glimpsed longing, and regret.

      For