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“So would you call what you do being a mercenary?” she asked tentatively, as though she was afraid he might take offense at the term. And in truth, he did.

“A mercenary?” he repeated, distorting the word a bit. “No. Being a mercenary has ugly connotations, like being a gun for hire. That isn’t what we do at all. We’re more like …” He thought for a moment, then went on. “Well, like a civilian rescue service. In many countries there is a huge gulf between the very rich and the rest of the population. There are all kinds of outlaws who think the rich are like fat, vulnerable piggy banks, and kidnapping is the way to open the vaults. It’s practically a major industry in some countries. Family members are always being kidnapped and held for ransom.” He gave her his quirky smile. “We specialize in getting them back.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Without paying the ransom, if possible.” “Oh.”

“That’s the major part of our mandate. We also do other things. We find lost cargo shipments. Get political refugees out of dangerous situations. Things like that.”

“I see,” she said, her gaze sliding over the open neck of his shirt, then turning back up to meet his eyes. “I didn’t really understand that. I have to tell you, that makes me feel a little better about it.”

He moved closer, taking in the scent of her hair. “About what kind of work I do?”

“Yes. I was sort of stuck on the outlaw element. Now I see that was wrong and that you could characterize it as humanitarian.”

He touched her cheek, brushing off a crumb that had landed there. Her skin was luminous. She was so beautiful, it made his heart feel full of wonder. “You prefer to think of me as one of the good guys, huh?” he said huskily, leaning closer still. “Of course.”

She looked down but she didn’t move away. He could see the pulse throbbing at the base of her throat. She wanted him to kiss her. There was no way he was going to be able to resist when it was so obvious she wanted his touch as much as he wanted hers.

“Darcy.” “Yes?”

She looked up. He dropped a soft kiss on her lips, light as a feather, then drew back.

“You’d better go,” she whispered, her eyes dark as shadows.

He nodded. “I know,” he said.

But he didn’t go. He kissed her instead. He took her into his arms, sliding his body against hers. She sighed and when his mouth covered hers, her tongue was there to meet his. She felt hot and smooth and as the kiss deepened, she arched her body into his, pressing hard with her breasts, as though she needed to feel his strength against her most sensitive places. Rational thought slipped away and all he could think of was heat and moisture and his mouth on her nipples. When she cried out, at first he was sure she was giving him an invitation, but pretty quickly, even his libido-drugged mind understood she was trying to get him to stop.

They pulled apart, panting and still clinging, but no longer pressed so tightly together. Darcy was the first to manage a coherent sentence.

“Mitch, this is exactly why you shouldn’t be here,” she said breathlessly.

“I know.” He kissed the tender area in front of her ear.

“Then what are you doing?” she cried, trying ineffectually to pull away.

He snuggled into the curve of her neck. “I think we should explore all the possibilities so we know what to guard against,” he murmured.

She laughed softly, but that didn’t change anything. Taking a deep breath, she forced him away.

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