Dark Cover (The DARK Files #2) by Susan Vaughan

moonlight to illumine movement in the dark.
    A dark-clad figure reached the top step and stopped. Apparently listening.
    Hell. DARK should be handling an intruder. Not him. A damn failure who’d sent men to their deaths.But he couldn’t let them take Vanessa.
    The figure took a tentative step. He turned to go down the hall.
    Nick lunged and grabbed him in a choke hold.
    The guy heaved a kick at his knee.
    Nick twisted enough to deflect the worst of the blow. He yanked the intruder’s right arm behind his back.
    Then reality hit him. Small. Soft, sweet scent. Hell.
    Vanessa.
    He relaxed his grip.
    A foot behind his calf sent him tumbling. At the last moment, he took her with him, and they fell to the hardwood floor together. He managed to take the brunt of the impact before rolling and trapping her beneath him. He pinned her hands beside her head.
    “Van— Danielle! It’s me.”
    She twisted beneath him. Soft, rounded curves rubbed against him. With every stroke, the friction made him harder.
    “Nick! Why did you tackle me?”
    “Why are you skulking around in my house?”
    “I wasn’t skulking . Snow and I did a perimeter check.”
    “Danielle wouldn’t be out there in the wee hours.” Danielle wouldn’t be here at all. He shouldn’t be here either, plastered against this delectable woman who thought he was engaged to another. Maybe he should tell her the truth.
    Another wriggle. This one was an attempt at a shrug. “I needed to know the layout. A little night work. It didn’t blow my cover. I apologize if I woke you.”
    Hell. He nearly groaned. If he confessed his broken engagement now, she wouldn’t believe him. It was a bad idea anyway. The artificial barrier between them should remain.
    A tangled web. “I wasn’t asleep.”
    She wore a commando-style jumpsuit, thin and clinging to her curves. With each panted breath, her breasts rose and fell against his bare chest. Autumn leaf and dew scents mingled with her unique fragrance.
    If he lowered his head, he could bury his nose in her hair. Or taste the soft skin on her neck.Or kiss her.And find respite from his torment.“You have that little mic turned on?”
    “No. Why?” The breathy tone said she knew the answer.
    If he thought any more, he’d remember why he shouldn’t do what he longed to do.
    So he didn’t think.
     

Chapter 5
    VANESSA COULD SEE little of his face in the dark. She didn’t need vision to know his intent.
    Although the danger of attack had receded, adrenaline hyper-powered her senses. Every pressure point where his muscled body touched hers tingled — fingers, arms, breasts, belly. Desire rolled off him in waves. Her erratic heart thumped in time with his so they seemed to possess a single heartbeat. Awareness burned into her, melting her very bones.
    “Nick,” she whispered, her mouth as dry as sand, “this is a bad idea.”
    “I know.”
    The deep velvet of his voice thrilled through her. He lowered his head. His chiseled mouth took hers with surprising warmth and softness. As he savored her with his lips, his tongue, his entire body, passion built to the same burning intensity with which he did everything.
    She felt feminine and desirable, consumed by his passion. I can’t. This is wrong. Not this man. Common sense managed barely a whisper, but her body fairly shouted. Let go. Let the feeling take you.
    His heat poured into her body, rich and drugging, and she yearned toward him as she tasted and savored. His kiss, powerful and thorough, claimed her as his own. His hand skimmed the length of her throat and her cheekbones.
    Was that her voice murmuring pleasure against his mouth? She was aware only of him, of him surrounding her with his scent and intensity and hardness.
    He pressed gentle kisses to the corners of her lips, to her temples, then pulled away. “Ah, Vanessa, I knew you’d be hot like this. Night work with you should mean tangled sheets, not tackling terrorists.”
    When he brushed his thumb across her