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there was a distinct feeling of comfort—perhaps protection—that Sheila welcomed.

But she was damned if she knew how he felt.

The past few days without him hadn’t been her best, either. For some reason, she’d been more on edge than usual, nervous, almost panicky each night as she drove home from the bar with the flash drive of information collected the night before tucked in her boot.

It had never bothered her before if she saw headlights in her rearview mirror, but the last few days—it bothered her.

And it shouldn’t. Other than the fact that it seemed to be too frequent, and those lights seemed to be the same ones nightly.

“You look worried.” Rubbing a towel over his hair to get the last of the water from it, Casey watched her questioningly, his head tilted to the side as Sheila pulled her clothes back on.

She gave a quick shake of her head. “You worry me.”

Pulling her shirt over her head and adjusting it over the hem of the soft skirt she had worn that night, she glanced back at Casey.

“And why do I worry you?” Tossing the towel to the counter, he turned, braced his very nicely rounded, towel-wrapped rear against the counter and crossed his arms over his broad chest as he regarded her.

“You never do what I expect, I guess.” She shrugged. “I wouldn’t have expected sex in exchange for your anger earlier.”

He scowled, a darkened lowering of his brows as his gaze narrowed on her. “Reminding me of that accusation you made isn’t a good idea, sweetheart. We don’t want to revisit that place just after we made each other feel so good.”

Pushing away from the counter and dropping the towel, Casey reached for his clothing and began dressing.

Sheila watched for a moment before forcing herself to draw her gaze back from the definite eye candy he represented.

Damn, this was her problem when it came to Casey. He was simply luscious. Even the scars along his lower back and left leg didn’t detract from the bronzed flesh that covered iron-hard muscles.

That always got her in trouble. Whenever she allowed herself to be distracted by that incredible body, she seemed to lose her mind, her control, and her common sense. And now, she’d gone and lost her heart.

Not a good thing.

“Of course, not a good place to revisit,” she agreed softly as she turned away and headed back to the bedroom.

“Tell me, Sheila.” He followed her, of course. “Why the hell do you keep fighting this relationship every step of the way? Aren’t you afraid I’m going to get tired of chasing you?”

She turned to see him behind her, his hands on his hips, just above the waistband of his low-riding jeans.

Honesty. It had gotten her in trouble earlier. It wasn’t going to help her now either.

“Because,” she finally answered. “I haven’t figured out why you want a relationship with me, Casey. Perhaps when you tell me why, I’ll stop fighting it.”

Hope began to fill her. She could feel it, no matter how hard she tried to fight it back. Could there be more to the sex than he was letting on? Was there more there than just a game he could be playing?

She’d heard multiple times how Casey liked to play with his lovers. He’d laugh, push them, tease them, insist on drawing them out when they wanted to remain secretive or hidden.

It was one of his gifts to his lovers. But it was a curse once he left.

“The obvious answer isn’t reason enough?”

Sheila stared back at Casey silently for long moments as she tried to figure that one out.

There was an obvious answer?

She bit her lower lip, trying to figure it out. Because she knew Casey—if she asked, just out-and-out asked what that answer was, then there wasn’t a chance in hell he was going to tell her.

He would turn it into a puzzle and into a game and he would make her completely insane with it. She didn’t need that. Her heart had enough weight on it already.

She cared for her father.

She helped him.

She covered for him.

She scheduled for him.

She carried information for him.

And she had given up her own dreams of love the day she had learned that she was no more than a conduit to her father.

It wasn’t Captain Rutledge’s fault. It was her own.

But now, it was backfiring on her.

“There’s an obvious answer, Casey?” She finally asked the one question she knew he wouldn’t answer.

She wondered what game he would turn it into now.

“Why yes, there is, and if you haven’t figured it out yet, then perhaps there’s nothing left for us to talk about.”

There was no anger in his tone, there was no anger in his expression or in his eyes. There was something that went beyond anger and sent her stomach clenching with dread.

“What do you mean by that?” she asked cautiously.

“When you figure out the obvious answer, Sheila, let me know,” he told her with that icy calm that had come over him. “Until then, I’m tired of trying to move the mountain and I’m sure as hell tired of chasing after a woman who doesn’t want me.” He headed for the door. “I’m sure you can see your way out.”

“I knew you would turn this into a game,” she cried out as his fingers curled around the doorknob. “I know a trick question when I hear one, Casey. Is this how you break it off with all your women once you’re tired of the pity fucks and the lessons in life?”

He stopped.

For a moment, Sheila wondered if perhaps she had gone too far. She had definitely exaggerated slightly, but it was just slightly.

Casey had a tendency to take lovers who needed to awaken, whether they

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