Page 5 of Under Fire

“You paid for a full house.”

“You don’t need to go down there,” he said—like he was issuing orders.

Alisa could tell there was a lot more that Warren wanted to say—but at the same time, he didn’t want to talk. And she was out of words.

So, she spun, striding to the other side of the first floor, wiping accent tables and chairs as she went, like she was doing what she wassupposedto be doing. Regaining some semblance of herself, she recognized that it was harder to breathe properly in front of him. It was harder to beAlisain front of him. He wasn’t the type of man she was used to. He clearly drew something out of her.

She walked through Warren’s kitchen and around the wide hallway. Her pile of used washcloths in her hand, she knew she had a few more things to get done before she could run out and get paid. Usually, Maria asked cleaners to put all dirty washcloths in the client’s laundry room and even get it started, minimizing their impact. But Alisa had finished cleaning the two upper floors and hadn’t seen the laundry room yet.

Could the laundry be in the basement?

She slowly opened a door leading to the unfinished staircase of the basement. Curiosity was killing her, but she paused.He said no.

Just before she could close the door, something caught her eye at the bottom of the stairs—a large black trunk that looked like a pelican case, armored and heavy duty. She knew that type of case. She’d spent enough time with a Marine once. Typically used for transporting guns, especially used by military folk, those cases were built for deployment. Through the dim light in the basement stairwell, she could barely make out a few more things laid out on the concrete below—body armor, boots and something black. Only when she focused a little harder did she realize that it was a rifle, leaning against the pelican case. And not the type of rifle used for hunting animals.

“Jesus—” she breathed out, stumbling back.

Whoisthis guy?

A growling voice arrived behind her. “I said…don’t fucking go down there.”

He dropped his heavy hand on the door, slamming it shut with more vigor than needed. She felt her mouth open as she spun to witness his dead-serious face.

I shouldn’t be here.

Chapter Three

Warren

Leading Chief Petty Officer Warren Cameron stared down at the stunning woman before him in that stupidly hot outfit, creeping on his shit.What the fuck is she up to?

“I’m—I’m sorry,” Alisa said, pushing her way back from him. Her back hit the wall on the opposite side of the hall.

He pivoted, turning toward her, suspicious as all hell. A few feet between them in the hallway, he narrowed his eyes on her. He was getting answers.

“This—” Warren eyed her up and down, growling—her overly exposed body, wrapped in glowing tanned skin, egging him on. “I’ve never seen a cleaner show up like she’s ready to hit the stage.”

“I didn’t— I’m not—”

He cut her off. “Why don’t you just tell me what your game is here? I saw your little tease. I see what you are doing. What the hell are you after?”

His challenge was clear.

She opened her eyes wide, her plump lips forming words that didn’t come out. She was good, real good. He’d give her that.

“Warren, I swear—”

“Swear, what? Swear you aren’t trying to drive me insane?” Again, he dropped his gaze to her long legs in those super-hot shorts.

“Please, believe me.”

“This isn’t how I expected my goddamn house cleaner to behave,” he growled, determined to get the truth. “Don’t act like you are innocent.”

“You’re right. I’m not,” she acknowledged. “I—”

Alisa’s gaze dropped, her feet twisting underneath her childishly. Then, Warren saw something he didn’t expect—true shame. He’d been highly trained in interrogation techniques…and spotting truth.

“I’m not after anything,” Alisa whispered with downcast eyes, something sweet drifting to his nose. “I just want to do my job.”

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