"Same."

She leaned up to study his chest. Now that she was closer, she saw even more of them, and no, they weren't makeup. The scars were real.

"How many times have you been shot?"

"What are you asking? How many total bullet wounds or how many times has someone shot me up?"

There was a difference? She was aghast at his nonchalance. "Both."

He actually had to pause to think. "I've had a total of twenty-two bullet holes. Though we're still debating one of them. The doc said she thought it was a bullet that passed clean through, but I think the wound was caused by some shrapnel that hit me when the grenade went off. As for assholes who've taken shots at me, I'm at the unlucky thirteen mark."

Marianne's jaw opened even more. "Are you serious?"

He nodded, then turned his head and showed her a scar behind his ear.

"That was the first one," he said, placing his finger over the small round scar. "I was only seventeen and it was a drive-by from a rival gang.

They took out my best friend Angelo as we came out of his house, headed for a movie. I got caught in the crossfire." He shook his head. "It's what got me out of the gang and made me want to do something with my life other than be target practice. Little did I know it would lead me into a field where drive-bys are even more likely than they were in New York."

She didn't know what to say. Part of her believed him and part of her found it hard to swallow. It was too close to what she would expect from a Rachel Fire hero and too alien to the sheltered world she'd known growing up.

She couldn't imagine being shot.

"You really, truly-swear to the Lord above-are a federal agent?"

He made an X over the center of his chest. "Cross my heart. And hope not to die on my next mission."

She sat back on her heels. "How long have you been an agent?"

"The last two years."

"Before that?"

"I was a Navy SEAL."

Yeah, right. "You almost had me going. But for the record, the SEAL thing blew it."

"I swear," he said, as if offended by her doubt. "I really was a SEAL.

I'd still be one if I hadn't been recruited for BAD."

She looked at him suspiciously. "What does BAD do?"

"That I can't tell you. Well, I could, but then I'd have to kill you, and no offense, I'm rather attached to you." He ran his hand down her backside and over her rump. "Especially this part here."

She squeaked as he clenched a handful of her buttocks.

He pulled her on top of him. Marianne straddled his waist and watched as he closed his eyes and sighed contentedly. She felt him stiffen against her hipbone.

Opening his eyes, he stared up at her and cupped her face in his hands.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?"

"I've never had anyone call be beautiful before. Heck, I had a guy in high school run screaming from the room when he lost a bet and was told he'd have to take me to the prom."

"He was an idiot."

She smiled at his words, amazed by them. "Who did you go to the prom with?"

"I didn't."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "My junior year I spent prom night in jail waiting for my dad to sober up long enough to bail me out, and I didn't have the money to go senior year."

"Jail?" she asked. "What did you do to go to jail?"

"Nothing too bad. I was in for fighting."

"Over what?"

"Bella Marino. She broke up with her boyfriend and then threw herself at me. He got pissed and we got into it at the mall. He pulled a knife, I pulled a knife, and they called the cops on us."

"Kyle!" she said, stunned by his confession. "You're not making up any of this, are you?"

"No."

She let her breath out slowly as she stared into his blue eyes.

He laced his fingers through her hair. "I'm not proud of my past, Marianne. I've spent most of my life trying to forget it. I just..."

She waited a few minutes until it became apparent he wasn't going to finish his sentence. "You what?" she prompted.

"I don't know. I feel like I can tell you things and I don't know why. It's not something I normally do. Hell, I barely talk to anyone. And then I meet you on the beach and I can't seem to shut my mouth or resist you."

She leaned forward and kissed him. "I can't resist you, either."

His cock hardened to full size at her words. He pulled back with a wicked grin.

Marianne melted at the look. He was better than anything she'd ever read in one of her books.

A real-life hero. One with a very sad past. How she wished she could make it up to him.

She moaned as he lifted her up and set her down on top of him. He was so hard and full inside her, and the tip of his shaft went straight into her G spot from this position.

"Ooo," she moaned. "You keep doing that and I might not ever let you leave this cave."

He guided her hips with his hands as he watched her. "You keep doing that and I won't even try."

Marianne covered his hands with hers and felt the strength of him in his grip. She trailed her gaze over his tawny skin, pausing at the multiple scars. He was her fantasy come to life. Only he was real. His scars were deep and she suspected he carried a lot more inside than those she saw on his body.

How many more did he carry in his heart?

"Have you ever killed anyone?"

"That's a strange question to ask while I'm making love to you."

"I'm sorry. I guess it was rather nosy."

He trailed his hand up her body and sank it deep in her hair. "Yes, I have," he said softly. "And no I'm not proud of it. My life has been very ugly."

She held his hand against her cheek and kissed the scars over his knuckles. "I wish I could make it better."

"Trust me, love. You are."

She smiled at that.

Kyle raised his hips, tossing her forward, onto his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled over with her until she was pinned under him.

How he loved the way she felt beneath him. The feel of her breath falling gently on his shoulder. The warm, sleek wetness of her around him.

How he wished he could make love to her without a condom. To feel the whole of her wetness surrounding him.

She was magnificent and he didn't want to leave her body. Not even when they came together in one swirling moment of blissful orgasm.

He still held on to her while she ran her hands over his bare back and shook under him. He was worn out and sated to a level he wouldn't have thought possible.

He laid his head down against her hard nipple so that he could feel the puckered areola against his cheek. It was the tenderest moment of his life.

But he knew it wouldn't last. Good things never did.

Chapter Three

Marianne woke up mid-morning to find Kyle already awake and dressed. Or at least partially dressed. He wore a pair of faded jeans and those biker boots again, but the rest of him was gloriously bare and glistening in the bright sunshine.

Yum!

Resting on his knees, he had his back to her while he cooked over a small Coleman camping stove.

Wow, the man really was prepared for anything.

She felt a tiny shiver as she stared at him and remembered the night they had shared. They'd made love so many times and in so many different ways that she was sure she wouldn't be able to walk straight today. Not to mention, they would definitely need another box of condoms-which might be her only saving grace from all that glorious temptation he offered.

The smell of coffee and bacon made her empty stomach growl.

"How long have you been up?" she asked.

He looked at her over his shoulder and grinned as he came out of that deadly crouch like some lethal, languid panther who had only been tamed by her. "Morning, little teacher."

"Good morning."

He made her a paper plate of eggs and bacon and brought it to her, then went to the small cooler to fetch some butter for her toast and a small carton of orange juice.

"Wow, full service in bed. I like that," she said as she sat up on the air mattress which had been surprisingly comfortable while she slept.

Marianne made sure to keep the sheet wrapped around her.

His eyes turned dark, seductive. "I have to say that servicing you in bed gives me a great deal of pleasure."

She blushed even more.

"Not to mention you gave me quite an appetite after last night."

She smiled at the deepness in his voice, knowing exactly what it heralded, and one quick glance at his groin confirmed it. Kyle Foster was a sex machine.

"So, what's on the agenda for today?" she asked, before she took a bite of her bacon.

Kyle drew a deep breath as he thought it over. In the book they were supposed to be outrunning the drug dealers who were enemies to the arms dealer or some shit like that. For all he knew it could have been a car dealer chasing them.

He'd spilled coffee on the book earlier that morning and hadn't been able to finish the chapter. Not that it mattered.

With just the two of them, there wasn't really a way to fabricate a group of people pursuing them.

He was good, but that was beyond even his abilities.

So he'd have to think up something else for them to do.

"Well, I think we're safe here on our private beach. I say we enjoy the day. What about you?"

Her smile dazzled him. "It sounds like a plan to me."

Marianne finished her breakfast and dressed while Kyle cleaned up and shut down the stove. As soon as he had it cleared, he got up and pulled a gun out from under his folded shirt. Ejecting the clip, he checked his ammunition, then returned it to the hilt. He put the gun back in the concealed holster and then fastened it around his waist before he put his shirt on to cover it.

His movements appeared reflexive, as if he wasn't even aware of what he'd done.

"You always do that?" she asked as she tied her shoes.

"Do what?"

"Check your gun."

He frowned. "My gun?"