Her Perfect Stranger

'Her name is Corrine.'

Stephen let out a moan at that. 'Oh man. You are. Damn, Mike. You're in deep.'

Yeah. Damn, Mike.

And then finally he was alone, staring at the shut office door, wondering at the three things that had just happened to him.

One, he'd lost control and made love to Corrine at work, putting them in an incredibly compromising position.

Two, she was never going to forgive him for it.

And three, he'd just realized Stephen might have stumbled onto something, in which case Mike was in a far bigger mess than even he could get out of. Fact was, he still wanted her, and there was nothing physical about it.

That's not the stupid part. Unless you're falling in love with the Ice Queen.

Which he was. Lord, wouldn't his brothers get a kick out of this? He, the man who was afraid of nothing except for maybe commitment, now suddenly wanted with all his heart to be committed to a woman who was not only his commander, but who didn't believe in any weakness. And he was certain she would consider this need of his a biggie.

He wanted a commitment, with Corrine.

Mike actually staggered at that, and wished for a chair. There wasn't one, so he sank to the floor and stared at her still-closed office door.

What was happening to him? To his satisfyingly single, devil-may-care, wild existence?

He wished he knew. Ah, hell, forget that. He did know. He knew exactly.

Corrine paced her office but no matter how long she walked, the images wouldn't go away. Her, with her back to the wall, legs shrink-wrapped around Mike, head thrown back as she let him take her hard and fast.

Let him take her.

She'd never let anyone take her in her entire life. No, she'd demanded it, and the memory of that now burned.

And everyone knew.

Well, whatever. It was done and she was not going to sit around and cry over spilled milk. So her team knew. She'd deal with that. What she couldn't deal with was having it happen again. Ever.

Grabbing the phone, she pounded out a number. 'Mom,' she said with relief when her mother picked up. 'I miss you.' An understatement. Nowhere on earth did she ever feel so good, so comfortable, so happy in her own skin, as she did with her family. 'I have three days off, and I'm coming home.'

When she'd dealt with her mother's joy, she picked up her purse, ignored her briefcase and hauled open her office door.

Tripping over Mike, she fell right into his lap.

His arms came around her and, wrapped in his warm strength, she forgot to hate him.

'You okay?' he murmured, and that voice, God, that sexy voice, reminded her.

Scrambling to her knees, she pointed at him. 'You.'

He was sitting crosslegged, right there on the floor, looking, to her satisfaction, every bit as miserable as she'd felt before she'd called home. 'Me,' he agreed.

'Why are you sitting on the floor?'

'I'm not sure you'd believe it. I don't hardly believe it myself,' he muttered. 'And anyway, it occurred to me, leaving you this mad might be a really bad idea.'

With as much dignity as she could, she stood, then sent him a withering glance when he reached out and stopped her from leaving. 'Now's not a good time to take me on, Mike.'

'I realize that.' He held her anyway. 'I want you to look me in the eyes, Corrine, and tell me you really believe I did this to hurt you. That I took you against the door of your office for the sole purpose of letting everyone around us know what's going on.'

Of course she couldn't look him in the eyes and tell him that. 'Now is a bad time.'

'Look at me, damn it-' He grappled with her when she fought him. 'Tell me.'

He was fierce and hurt and full of bad temper. Well, so was she, so she shrugged him off and reached for the purse she'd dropped. 'Goodbye, Mike.'

She headed for the bathroom to clean up. When she came out he was still there, waiting. Not acknowledging him she turned to leave.

She was halfway down the hall before she realized he was right behind her. Silent. Brooding. She ignored him all the way to her car, even though she wanted to grab him, wanted to hold on to him, lay her head on his shoulder and forget the rest of the world existed.

What a weakness. It terrified her. 'Don't even think about following me.' She got in her car, started it and pictured the next three days of peace and quiet.

No Mike.

And in the not-too-distant future, after their mission was complete, he'd be out of her life for more than just three days. He'd be gone for good.

Things would be great, she'd be fine and her life would get back to normal. But the truth was, she wasn't fine and nothing would ever be normal again. Not without Mike.

Starting the car, she looked straight ahead and resisted putting her head on the steering wheel to have a good, and very rare, pity party. Mike would be watching, she knew.

In his dumbest move since decorating his high-school math teacher's house with toilet paper after a particularly rough test, Mike followed Corrine.

Not that he easily kept up with her on the freeway; the woman was a holy terror, dodging through traffic left and right, making him wince.

She wasn't going to her condo.

It took less than thirty minutes to arrive in a lovely, quiet little suburb where there were white picket fences and pretty yards with flowers and SUVs and children playing-a world away from the military childhood he'd had.

Having spent the past ten years in Russia, in the teeming, overcrowded cities there, he was experiencing quite a culture shock.

Corrine got out of her car, ran up the walk of one exceptionally pretty house and embraced an older couple. There was a beaming smile across her usually solemn face.

And he understood.

She'd come home. Interesting, as he'd never thought of her as the family type. But then again, he'd never thought he'd find himself chasing down a woman he couldn't get out of his head.

Well, meeting her family ought to do it, really. That should bring on both hives and the need to run far and fast.

He was counting on it, anyway.

He parked and got out, not sure of his next move, or even what he really wanted. Maybe for Corrine to acknowledge she'd been unfair to him back there in her office. Or maybe for her to tell him what the hell they had, because he'd feel better if he could somehow label this whole thing.

He knew the exact moment she sensed him; she stiffened and turned, then frowned. He imagined she growled as well, but he was, thankfully, far enough away that he could only hear the birds chirping and the light breeze rustling the trees in the yard.

Oh, and his own nerves. He could hear those loud and clear.

A glutton for punishment, he moved closer.

'From work,' she muttered over her shoulder, obviously in response to her mother's question. 'He's my pilot. No, don't look at him, maybe he'll go away.'

'Corrine Anne!' Her mother looked shocked and horrified. 'That is no way to greet a guest!'

Now Corrine looked directly into Mike's eyes, her own gaze filled with dread, resignation. Fear. Everything he was feeling.

There! he thought. We're in this together, baby.