Page 60 of Edge of Danger

Her jaw dropped, and he added humorously, “I gather you’re the type who obsesses about past mistakes and replays arguments in your head to think of the perfect thing you should have said but didn’t think of at the time?”

“Maybe,” she replied cautiously.

“Hah. You’re an after-obsesser.”

He didn’t know the half of it. She snorted. “Is that some new personality disorder I’ve never heard of? After-obsessing?”

“Yeah. I just invented it to describe you.”

“Thanks for the diagnosis, Dr. Freud.”

“No hard feelings. We’re all a little crazy.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s your preferred flavor of crazy?”

“I’ve been told I can be a bit of a control freak.”

She grabbed her heart dramatically. “No! Say it’s not so!”

“Screw you, Roth,” he chuckled.

“Been there, done that,” she retorted.

He glanced at the closed curtain between them and the cockpit. “Ever join the mile-high club? Or in this case, the seven-mile-high club?”

Her gaze narrowed. “No, and I don’t plan to. We’re working on a vitally important mission. There will be no hanky panky.”

“Hanky panky?” he echoed, grinning. “Would that involve shenanigans and hijinks, too?”

She flashed him the bird, and he grinned broadly. But the expression faded too quickly for her comfort. He said, “You still haven’t told me why you took off this morning.”

“I just got up and left while you snored your head off. Not my fault you were dead asleep and all my banging around didn’t rouse you.”

“Honey, I’ve been a Special Forces operative forever. A leaf falling to the ground has been known to wake me. Yousnuckout.”

Busted. “So you admit I’m Special Forces quiet?” she challenged.

He frowned. “I’ve never questioned your skills.”

“No. Just my right to be out in the field.”

“Why would I have something against you being out in the field?” he asked a shade indignantly.

“Oh, come on. We both know what you think of women being operators like you.”

“No woman’s ever gonna be an operator like me. I’m bigger, stronger, and faster than a woman. However—“ he talked over her when she began to squawk in outrage, “—that doesn’t mean a woman couldn’t be a perfectly fine operator. She would just have to work differently than me. Your problem is you’re trying to do things the way a guy would. You need to think more like a woman. Use your gender as a strength, not a weakness.”

“What the hell does that mean? You think I should put on a skirt and high heels andsashaymy way into dangerous military situations with, what? With a garter belt and a condom for self-protection?”

He shrugged. “I’m just trying to give you a little food for thought. Nothing more.”

Her shoulder blades hit the seatback hard.Think like a woman. Chauvinist sonofabitch--

“I’m gonna take a nap,” Ian announced. “You never know when we’ll get another chance to grab some shut-eye.”

As infuriating as he could be, the jerk had a point. Neither of them had gotten a whole lot of sleep last night in between boutsof athletic and exhausting sex. None of which wereevergoing to be repeated.

Eyes on the prize, Piper. Eyes on the prize.

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