Her Perfect Stranger Read online

  Mind-boggling, when she allowed herself to think about it. She and the others would literally have their lives in each other’s hands.

  Practice. Definitely practice.

  As pilot, Mike spent much of the day right by her side. They weren’t alone, not even for a second. Though every inch of skin was literally hidden from view—everything but their eyes, through the viewing lens on their mask—she was so aware of him that every time he so much as drew in a deep breath, she knew it. If he looked at her, she felt it.

  And when he accidentally—or maybe not so accidentally—brushed up against her, her senses went into overdrive.

  She didn’t like it.

  She ignored it.

  She did so by remaining cool and in control, refusing to be baited or sidetracked. Once, when the rest of the team was on the other side of the large mechanism they were using to hoist the huge pieces of equipment, Mike planted himself in front of her, purposely looking directly into her mask as his gloved hands slipped to her hips and gently but deliberately squeezed.

  They were separated by layers and layers, and yet she felt his fingers as if they were skin to skin. Her eyes fluttered closed, her heart picked up speed. And she actually ached. Ached.

  When she forced her eyes open, she expected triumph to flare in his own deep, dark-brown gaze, but all she saw was his own response, which mirrored hers.

  After that, it got harder and harder to ignore him. As a result, maybe she worked them all a little harder than she might have, but she told herself she was a perfectionist and simply expected the best out of them.

  That they were delivering that best went a long way toward easing the knowledge that the rest of the team didn’t especially like her. But they respected her, and had the same work ethic she did, so that would have to be good enough.

  Besides, she was used to not being liked. Not many understood her drive, her need to succeed. At times, she didn’t understand it herself. Her parents supported her; her friends supported her. All her life she’d been loved and cherished. It wasn’t a lack in any of those things that drove her but a simple, overriding hunger for success.

  And she would have it.

  MIKE WAITED IN THE DARK, in the hallway, silent and tense and listening for Corrine’s standard midnight run to the bathroom.

  It was stupid, even pathetic, especially when he had no idea what he wanted to say or do.

  Actually, that was one big, fat lie.

  He knew exactly what he wanted to do to her, and it involved no clothes, a bed and lots of moaning.

  What was this crazy need he had for her? It made no sense. Especially when she’d made it clear she wanted to forget she’d ever known him. He should want to forget her, too, given what a tough, no-nonsense commander she was.

  But he couldn’t forget. And so he waited.

  She didn’t disappoint. Just past midnight, she came out of her room, wearing her men’s boxers and tank top.

  Shrinking back into the shadows, he watched her as she walked with her frank, here-I-come gait until she disappeared into the bathroom.

  When she came back out, yawning broadly, he grabbed her.

  She nearly screamed, but quickly controlled herself. And while he admired her control on the job, he didn’t want her in control now, he wanted her hot and bothered and unsettled, which happened to be the only time he got to see the woman he suspected was the real Corrine Atkinson.

  She fought him, but he used his superior strength to haul her closer until they were chest to chest, thigh to thigh, and all the delicious spots in the middle were meshed together.

  Ah, just what the doctor ordered.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered fiercely.

  Hell if he knew. “How about this?” And he captured her mouth with his.

  Immediately she went utterly, completely still, and he knew he had her. If she’d fought him, he’d have let her go instantly. If she’d given him any sign that this wasn’t where she wanted to be, he’d have stepped back and gone to bed. He might have been hard as steel and frustrated beyond belief, but he would have gone.

  She didn’t give him that sign, but she didn’t kiss him back, either. He wanted so much more, wanted to see her eyes slumberous and sexy with the same hunger he felt, wanted her body humming and needy for his, wanted her to look at him the way she had in his hotel room, the look that told him he was the only one who could possibly do it for her in that moment.

  He thought maybe he wanted even more, but that idea unsettled him, so he concentrated on the physical craving instead. Her mouth was warm and tasted exactly as he remembered. Gentling his hold, he smoothed his hands up and down her back while nibbling at her lips, teasing as he sought the entrance she would have to willingly give him.

  It wasn’t until he said her name softly, cupping her face so that he could look deep into her eyes, that she let out a quiet hum and slid her arms around his neck. “Mike.”

  He let out a rough groan when she tilted her head, searching for a deeper connection. And he gave it to her. Within two seconds that connection was not only deeper but scorchingly hot. Corrine had one hand fisted in his hair, holding him tight as if she thought he might back away.

  Fat chance.

  Her other hand slid around his waist, her fingers slipping beneath his T-shirt to the base of his spine before stroking up his bare back. A simple touch, even an innocent one, but it set him on fire. His hands were busy, too, dancing down her arms to her hips, sliding beneath her shirt to glide along bare, warm skin he couldn’t get enough of. Their kiss was long, wet, deep and noisy, but just as he brought his hands around to cup her breasts, one of the bedroom doors behind them opened.

  Corrine froze and he felt her horror. Silently swearing at the loss of her hot body and their privacy, he put a finger to her lips and quickly backed her into the bathroom.

  Like two teenagers they stood stock-still in the dark room, listening.

  Nothing.

  “My God,” she whispered. “I can’t believe I— That you— That we—”

  “Nearly ate each other up?”

  “Don’t say it.”

  She sounded disgusted, and it made him mad at her all over again. Why, he wondered, did he care about this woman? Why did he care that his teammates were grumbling about her cool and controlled demeanor, that they didn’t see the real Corrine as he did? Why did he care that beyond the facade she showed the world, she had the deepest, most soul-wrenching eyes he’d ever seen?

  “We nearly…again.” She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, and her abject misery fueled his growing temper.

  “You can only have sex with me as a stranger? Is that it?”

  “We were not having sex!”

  “So when you were writhing and panting in my arms only a minute ago, tearing at my shirt, whimpering for more, pawing at me, demanding more…what was that?”

  She tried to stare him down, but he didn’t stare down easily. He could see the wheels turning in her head as she strove for a way to make this okay in her little dream world, where they didn’t have this shocking need for each other.

  “All we did just now was kiss,” she said finally, nodding her head as if she could live with that particular fantasy.

  Time to pop her little bubble.

  “Honey,” he said with a disbelieving laugh, “if that was just a kiss, I’ll eat my shorts.”

  “It was!”

  “How is it then that you were two seconds from coming, and I’d barely even touched your breasts?”

  He didn’t need light to see the hot flush of anger on her face. “You’re impossible!” she spat. “I really hate that!”

  “And you’re ashamed of what we did. I hate that.”

  They stared at each other, but there was nothing left to say.

  7

  THE NEXT DAY WAS SPENT in one meeting after another again, and by the end of it, Corrine was mentally drained.

  It wasn’t the work; she loved that. It was Mike.