Hero For Hire. Jill Shalvis

      That he sounded more incredulous than angry didn’t stop her from struggling, and though he was on to her now, she still gave him a good fight.

      “Don’t, damn it,” he grated in her ear, doing his best to both hold her and fight her off, but her fear and temper had dulled her mind, and she fought him mindlessly, getting in one more carefully aimed knee before he pressed her hard into the mattress.

      Lifting his head, chest heaving from the exertion, he spoke an inch from her mouth. “Lord, you’re a squirmy little thing.”

      His skin was warm, his body hard with muscle. His weight wasn’t uncomfortable, which disturbed her.

      So did the way her body seemed to welcome his thigh thrust high between hers, forcing her legs open. Despite the confusing, mixed signals her brain sent, she continued to struggle. “Get off me!”

      “Soon as you promise not to scratch my eyes out. Or other, more critical parts.”

      “I promise.” She’d promise him the moon if he’d get off her.

      He slanted her a doubtful gaze, then sighed the sigh of a martyr, as though he was the one being inconvenienced. “Look, your virtue is safe with me, all right? You’re not even my type, so just relax and answer my questions.”

      Not only had he invaded her home and scared her half to death, but she was quite certain she’d just been insulted. “Get off me!”

      “First tell me why you have two goons following you. Oh, and the question of the day, of course. Where is your sister?”