Special Forces: The Recruit. Cindy Dees

      He eventually surprised himself by drifting off to sleep. Maybe it was the companionship, or maybe it was how damned delicious Tessa felt in his arms.

      He did wake up a couple of times during the night, tensing in anticipation of flashbacks from the night he should have died—the mission he’d been lucky to be medevaced away from with a destroyed leg and no future on the teams.

      Nightmares were standard issue to men in his line of work. The shrinks said dreams were how guys like him worked out their emotional crap over killing people for a living. Whatever. He didn’t run around spilling tears for his victims. They were bad people in need of killing.

      But tonight the nightmares never came calling.

      Nothing came to him except the sweet smell and quiet breathing of the woman snuggled up against him, filling the darkness with soft curves and comfort that lulled him back to sleep.

      Too bad this was a onetime good deal. In the morning, he was going to unleash holy hell on her, and that would be the end of cuddles in the dark with Tessa Wilkes, wannabe Medusa and soon-to-be former trainee.