Deadly Allure. Elle James

you didn’t go out with me.”

      She snorted. “You never asked.” With a pointed look at the clothes in her arms, she sighed. “I suppose I should have known you had someone special already. Nice, eligible men are very hard to find.”

      He wanted to tell her the clothes weren’t for his lover, damn it. “I’m eligible. The nice part could be debatable.”

      Her face brightened. “Are you asking me out?”

      He frowned and backed toward the door. “Look, if you could bag those things, I’ll be back in fifteen minutes to square up.”

      Her face fell and she gave him a sad smile. “See? Hard to find.” She pasted a smile on her face. “At least I’ll make my sales quota for the day. I’ll have these things ready.”

      Dave ducked out of the store, feeling as though he’d escaped a spider’s web. What was wrong with women? All he wanted was to be left alone.

      When he got back to the boat, he’d hand over the clothing and show Tazer the door. The yacht, no matter how ratty, was his home, not hers.

      * * *

      Nicole spent the better part of an hour cyber-poking at the flash drive, hoping the encryption on the data was a simple fix. After trying everything she’d learned from Zip, her super-geek informant she’d met while undercover with the FBI, she knew she had to do more.

      Fortunately, Dave wasn’t such a Neanderthal that he didn’t have internet service. In fact, he had a pretty good setup for the captain of a fishing charter business. Beneath the scruffy unshaved face, shaggy hair and sloppy clothes, she suspected there was more to Dave Logsdon than he let on.

      Too bad she didn’t have time to figure him out. Then again, he’d probably end up being just as untrustworthy as most males she’d encountered, and not worth the effort to learn more about.

      The image of Dave’s face when he’d been deep in the nightmare and choking the breath out of her flashed through Nicole’s memory. He must have seen some pretty serious stuff to be that traumatized.

      Her hand rose to her throat. She’d remember to stand way back if she had to wake him from one of those night terrors again. Not that she would be venturing into his bedroom. If he had a bad dream, he’d have to tough it out.

      As quickly as his enraged countenance came to mind, it faded and left her with the image of him lying on the bed naked. The man had muscles. Yes, sir. Not a spare ounce of flesh on that fisherman.

      Nicole’s body heated; a strange ache building low in her belly. Since Rodney’s betrayal and her subsequent leaving the FBI, she hadn’t let a man past her bedroom door.

      After what she’d witnessed in Dave’s nautical bedroom, she might have to reconsider. If only for some recreational sex. As much as she’d like to deny her baser instincts, she had physical needs.

      Needs be damned, she’d need more firepower to crack the encryption on the data she’d downloaded. Normally she’d go to Geek for this kind of stuff. Thank goodness she knew a hacker outside of SOS. He went by Zip. If she could contact him, perhaps he’d pass her some code that she could use to hack into the files.

      She’d have to wait for Dave’s return with her clothing and the disposable cell phone she’d asked him to pick up while in Cape Churn. It was too risky to use Dave’s phone to call a known criminal. Not only did it expose Dave, it might expose Zip.

      Cooped up in the boat, she didn’t dare get out until Dave brought her clothes. She couldn’t risk being seen in the black leather pants and jacket. What she’d really like was a chance to go for a run. She could probably scrounge some oversize sweats and she could wear the shirt she’d borrowed from Dave, but without tennis shoes, a run was a no-go. Too conspicuous in black boots and sweats.

      At a standstill on cracking through the data on the flash drive, she rose from the couch cushions and wandered around the living area, inspecting drawers and cabinets. For a man who needed a haircut and a shave, the items in his drawers were neat, orderly and folded or rolled in the fashion of a footlocker kept up by a top-notch soldier. This soldier hadn’t forgotten his training.

      In one cabinet, a faded, crumpled picture hung on the inside of the door. In the photograph two men in desert camouflage uniforms, Kevlar vests and helmets, carrying Colt M-4 carbines stood grinning at the camera. At first, Nicole didn’t recognize either one until she looked closer. The taller one was Dave. Not the surly, scroungy man who wanted to kick her off his boat. This was a happier man with a clean-shaved face and unguarded eyes.

      What had happened to make him so mad at the world?

      The date on the photo was two years ago.

      Footsteps on the deck above made Nicole jump. Unable to see who was coming, she ducked around the corner into Dave’s sleeping quarters. If anyone but the boat’s owner was there to pay a visit, she’d be ready.

      Bags dropped down the steps, landing with a paper-crunching whomp on the floor. “Your clothes are here,” Dave called out. “I got a charter gig in thirty minutes. See ya later.”

      “Wait.” Nicole darted out of the bedroom and nearly tripped over the bags getting to the steps. “When will you be back?”

      He smirked from the halfway up the stairs. “Miss me already?”

      She tried to play off her boredom. “No, I just like to know who and what to expect. Helps me to know if it’s a good guy or a bad guy.”

      Dave snorted. “Honey, I’m bad to the bone. What’s the difference?”

      She didn’t respond, maintaining eye contact until he gave in.

      “I’ll be back around dark.”

      “Thanks.”

      “You got everything you need for now?”

      She nodded. “Now that I have clothes, I can get around. I won’t need you to run my errands.”

      “If you need a vehicle, the keys to my truck are—”

      “Hanging inside the cabinet by the fridge. I know.”

      “Snooping around?”

      “I was bored.”

      “You don’t have to stay here, you know,” he said, his brows raised. “You have clothes.”

      “That reminds me. Did you get the hair dye?” she asked.

      His lips pressed together for a moment, his gaze sweeping over her head. “No.”

      “Why not?”

      “I gotta go.” He started up the stairs, refusing to answer.

      “Well, I appreciate what you did get. I can pick up the dye at the store later.”

      He paused, almost out of the cabin, and then turned back. “Don’t.”

      She glanced up from the packages. “Don’t what?”

      “Don’t dye your hair.”

      Nicole studied the frown on his face. “Why not?”

      “I like your hair the way it is.” Then he left.

      Shaking her head, Nicole went to work sorting through the clothes he’d purchased, imagining how uncomfortable he must have been asking for a ladies bra and panties. She could have gone without the bra, but she’d wanted him to be a little uncomfortable. As opposed as he’d been to her staying on his boat, he deserved a little embarrassment.

      She glanced out the window on the port side facing the dock. Dave strode away in his boat shoes, worn jeans and T-shirt, a fishing cap pulled down over his shaggy hair. He carried himself like a soldier, with all the pride and dignity drilled into him. And beneath the sloppy outfit was the body of a warrior.

      Nicole had seen it. And damn if she didn’t want to see it again.