Close Contact. Lori Foster

thing he felt. Everyone at the agency was used to Sahara’s informal and often intrusive manner. It went hand in hand with a lot of caring, making her a most unusual but likable boss.

      After rolling his eyes at Sahara, Miles turned to Maxi. He wanted to believe everything she said, he really did. He’d even admit that she looked sincere.

      Problem was, he knew her sex drive matched his own, and he sure as hell hadn’t been celibate.

      Maybe this time she’d hooked up with the wrong man. Had she played around and then tried to call it quits, but unlike Miles, the new guy knew where to find her and, in a sick way, had insisted?

      He hated that thought. His natural instinct was to protect women, never to abuse them. His reaction to Maxi had honed that instinct to a razor’s edge.

      Still, facts were facts. Why would a total stranger drug her only to leave her outside? That didn’t make any sense.

      But a pissed-off lover? That at least explained a motive, if the guy had only wanted to fuck with her.

      Miles gently lifted her chin. Caution filled her big dark eyes, but she didn’t pull away. Checking for any other signs of injury, he tipped her face first one way, then the other. He didn’t see any bruises, but that didn’t mean much. He hated to ask, but he had to know. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

      Her tongue touched over her dry lips. “I don’t think so.”

      Did she understand what he was asking? “I mean—”

      “I know what you mean.” She spared a brief glance for Sahara, then lowered her voice. “I don’t think anyone...touched me. Not that way.”

      Matching his voice to hers, he whispered, “You checked?”

      She nodded. “As best I could. I mean, I was still wearing my shorts. And my...my panties weren’t twisted or anything.” She bit her bottom lip. “If anything like that did happen, I’d know, right?”

      “I assume so.” Miles wanted to check for himself, but he could just imagine how that’d go over.

      Sahara probably wouldn’t give him the privacy for it anyway.

      So if she had been drugged—then what? She’d have to open up first instead of denying any involvement, but if he could find the guy, he’d annihilate him, no problem.

      Because he didn’t want this to get personal, he told himself he’d feel the same for any woman. “You’re sure you don’t remember anything else? No other clues? No one I should check out?”

      Nodding at Sahara, Maxi said, “Nothing that she hasn’t already told you.” Shivering again, she sipped the hot coffee.

      It wasn’t cold in the office. In fact, beneath his hands her thighs felt warm. Reaction, then. To the upset of thinking she’d been roofied, or because she had been roofied?

      The urge to gather her close strained him. Only the hard reminder that she’d left his life as quickly as she’d entered it kept him somewhat impersonal. “We’ll find out what happened.”

      Relief washed over her, making her go limp. She looked down, gulped a few quivering breaths and nodded. “Thank you.”

      The tears in her voice nearly undid him.

      It must have affected Sahara, too, because even though she’d refused to give them privacy moments before, she now said softly, “I’ll be right back,” and then she slipped from the room, closing the door behind her.

      Silence stretched out.

      As Miles watched, Maxi banked the desperation and forced herself to calm. It surprised him when she said, “You’ve gotten bigger.”

      He lifted a brow. Now that they had a moment alone, that was all she had to say to him? Or was she just hoping for a distraction? “I’m not fighting anymore. Now I eat what I want.”

      “But you’re not heavy.” Her warm gaze moved over his shoulders. “You’re still as chiseled as ever. Just...bigger. Bulkier.”

      He shrugged. “True.” He’d had plenty of time to exercise and lift weights, especially since the Body Armor agency kept a state-of-the-art gym with every type of equipment a fitness buff could want. After all, bodyguards had to stay in shape. Plus, beating a heavy bag helped rid him of his anger.

      Or so he’d told himself.

      At the moment, the anger seemed dangerously close to the surface. “A lot can change in two months.”

      Guilt brought color to her face, so she didn’t appear as pale. She turned away before saying, “I should apologize—”

      “You made it clear there was no commitment.” That was usually how he liked it. Just not this time.

      “I know, but... It’s just that I had so much to deal with and...” She blew out a breath. “I was tempted to lean on you.”

      He waited, but when she said nothing else, he frowned. “That would have been so bad?”

      She choked. “You can’t tell me you’d have wanted that.”

      “I don’t think you have a clue what I wanted.” Mostly because she’d never bothered to ask.

      “Look at yourself,” she said, almost in accusation.

      Sahara had said the same, and he still didn’t know what it meant.

      “You can have anyone you want. I had no reason to think you’d want me, especially with all my...chaos.”

      Chaos? He started to ask, but she cut him off.

      “I figured it was better to go before I got rejected.”

      With quiet anger, Miles said, “I wouldn’t have rejected you.”

      “You can’t know that when you don’t understand what my life is like.”

      He’d already said too much, more than he’d meant to, so Miles shook his head. “Suit yourself. But now that you’ve explained and had your coffee, you need to go to the hospital.”

      She groaned.

      “If what you said is true—”

      Insulted, she asked, “You still doubt me?”

      “—then you know someone probably roofied you.” Yeah, he had doubts. Too much of her story didn’t add up. If she claimed to have an angry ex, or if she’d been in a club, it’d make more sense. Either way, they’d know the truth soon enough.

      Until then, he had an opportunity to turn the tables on her. He’d be accessible, he’d help her, but she’d be the one left wanting.

      Sahara reentered with a soft throw blanket. Miles had no idea where she’d found it, but she handed it to Maxi.

      Miles drew it over and around her shoulders. “Who would want to hurt you?”

      She thanked him, then said, “I have no idea. I don’t have any close neighbors, no recent involvements.” Her gaze flashed to his. “Well, except for you.”

      “That was months ago and we weren’t all that involved.”

      She looked ready to toss the coffee in his face. “If I go to the hospital, someone will recognize my name and tell my brother.”

      “Your brother?”

      “He works in the ER. Nevar isn’t exactly a common last name, so he’ll know I’m there, and then he’s going to ask a lot of questions I can’t answer, and probably try to insist I should sell the house.”

      Every word out of her mouth told him something new about her. Her definition of “chaos” was starting to make sense. “Maxi—”

      “I’m feeling better.”

      She wanted to avoid her brother that badly?