The way it always did.

She was smoke and fire, need and longing, and the way they fit together was like a new religion. Every time.

He clicked the safety into place, then tossed her gun aside. And for the moment, he indulged himself.

Isaac angled his jaw, taking the kiss deeper. Pouring all the panic and dread and grief-streaked fury he’d kept locked up inside into her. Making it heat and desire.

That call. That terrible helicopter ride.

He couldn’t forget any of it.

But she was here. She was alive. She was flesh and blood and kissing him back the way she always did, as if it were all her idea.

As if she were in control.

And for the moment, that was all that mattered.

She was impatient, as always. She surged against him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her body against his.

Isaac let his hands travel, proving to himself that she really was all in one piece. And because he liked his hands on her. She’d been sleeping with her clothes on, and not the kinds of clothes she wore at the Water’s Edge Café while she was cooking only what she felt like cooking, insulting the customers, and throwing out anyone who annoyed her.

And everyone annoyed her, sooner or later. She issued bans like parking citations in big cities, and it always took a lot of wheedling to get back into her good graces.

But there was no oversized novelty T-shirt here. Tonight she wore a formfitting white T-shirt with cute little sleeves that flirted with those biceps she pretended she didn’t have. And a pair of cargo pants that whispered when she moved, telling him before he’d even laid a hand on her that they were made of tactical material.

It was all part and parcel of the same lie she’d been telling all this time, and he would get to that, but for the moment he lost himself a little—okay, a lot—in the sheer joy of kissing her again.

There was a simmering anger, sure. And all that emotion they never talked about. Lust and desire, and loss in there, too, because this never lasted. Every time he kissed her could be the last time he kissed her, and he was never okay with that, no matter what he told himself.

Isaac poured it all into her.

Caradine took it, met it, and gave it right back to him.

And since his hands were on her already, he let them trail down her body wherever they pleased, reminding himself how sleek and sexy she was. Not that he needed reminding when she was burned into him like a brand.

He also helped himself to the weapons she keptstashed away on her person. The knife strapped to her leg. The box cutter in one cargo pocket.

He liked that she was lethal. He’d watched her extricate herself from restraints, easily disarm attackers, and escape all manner of harm in the self-defense class she took in Grizzly Harbor. But that didn’t mean he wanted to give her an easy target.

She jerked her head back when he fished the box cutter out of her pocket, and he had the satisfaction of seeing that her pupils were dilated and her eyes had gone glassy. Those pretty blue eyes that she could never quite wipe clear of her true feelings, no matter how ferociously she scowled.

The way she did now. “Are you trying to distract me while you pat me down?”

“Nottryingto distract you. Just distracting you.”

She pushed away from him, harder than necessary. Isaac didn’t move, but she did, and probably would have staggered back a few feet if she hadn’t caught herself. He watched her glance toward the bed, where the three weapons he’d found so far lay, then look back at him, gauging her chances.

“I wouldn’t.” He didn’t quite grin. Though he thought about it. “But you can always give it a shot. See what happens.”

Some people would admit defeat. But this was Caradine, defiant beyond reason and sense, who would probably die first. Her eyes narrowed, she crossed her arms, and she glared back at him like she had some control here.

But just because he’d always given her control didn’t mean she had it or could keep it. A critical distinction. One he intended to make crystal clear to her.

“If you’ve been tracking me since the ferry, you sure have come a long way for that good-bye kiss. I hope it was worth it.” She nodded toward the door to her roomthat he’d jimmied in about two silent seconds. “Don’t let me keep you.”

“Hilarious, as ever. You should think about a stand-up routine.”

“I’m not trying to be funny. You need to go. You shouldn’t have followed me in the first place.”