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hugged by black leather pants and a bloodred tank top, a body designed to make a man think of pure, carnal fucking.
    Noelle’s beauty was beyond compare, and that only stoked the hatred burning like lava in his gut. She looked like an angel, but she had a devil’s heart. She was poison, and he refused to utter a single complimentary word to her, even as his hard-on strained against his zipper in salute to all her splendor.
    “Fine.” She gave a mock pout. “I guess pleasantries aren’t really our style, huh? Let’s get right to business.”
    He shot her a pointed look. “What favor do you need this time?”
    She was positively beaming now. “Oh, baby, this time the favor’s all yours.”
    As a cloud of suspicion floated through him, he reached for the bottom of his shirt and yanked it right over his head.
    Noelle’s gaze fastened on his bare chest, her head tilting to the side. “What are you doing?”
    He unzipped his pants and let them drop to the concrete pool deck. “Going for a swim,” he answered in a bored tone.
    His boxers came off next, and Noelle’s slight hitch of breath confirmed that she noticed his raging hard-on.
    It was kind of hard to miss.
    “You don’t want to know what I mean by that?” Those blue eyes remained glued to his cock, but she didn’t comment on his state of arousal.
    Probably because she knew damn well the erection had nothing to do with lust. This was an anger-fueled boner, pure and simple.
    He arched a brow at her. “I’ll hear you out when I’m good and ready. Right now, I feel like a swim.”
    Brushing past her, Morgan headed for the deep end, hopped on the diving board, and dove cleanly into the warm water. The moment he was fully submerged, his head began to clear. Soon the volatile emotions Noelle always managed to elicit in him had reduced to a manageable degree.
    When he finally poked his head out, he saw that she’d sat down on one of the lounge chairs. Her annoyed expression brought a surge of satisfaction to his blood and a burst of energy that had him doing laps.
    He’d do twenty-five, just to stir up her irritation. Make her wait, watch her stew. It was the same old game they always played. See who could piss off the other one more. Who could inflict more pain, cause more destruction.
    Morgan sliced through the water in a clean crawl stroke, wishing he could see her face. But no biggie, because he could clearly envision her displeasure, picture the scowl twisting her lips.
    Except...bad idea, thinking about her lips. That only triggered the unwelcome memory of what he’d done the last time they’d been alone together. Not two months ago, when she’d helped the team out in Cairo, but on the job in Belarus earlier that year, when he’d...
    Kissed her.
    Goddamn it, he’d
kissed
the bitch.
    You felt nothing
.
    Right, he’d felt nothing. Nada. Zip. It had just been a test, a need to confirm that there was nothing between them.
    Absolutely frickin’ nothing.
    He forced the memory away and concentrated on counting out his laps. Six. Seven. Ten. Fourteen. His arms burned from the brisk pace he’d set, but he preferred the pain to the other burn he felt around Noelle.
    Another glance at the deck revealed the bitter grimace on her face. Good. Let her sulk. He’d spent years thinking of ways to punish her and make her suffer, but the woman was a block of ice, totally impenetrable. Unless she was being ignored—that was when the wall of indifference crumbled, her desire for power and recognition trumping her need to conceal her emotions.
    And so he kept swimming, knowing the longer he made her wait, the faster her carefully composed mask would unravel.
    Times like these, when he was imagining new ways of hurting her, it was impossible to believe that he’d ever loved this woman with all his heart.

Chapter 2
    “Why is Morgan skinny-dipping in our pool?” was the first thing Sullivan Port demanded after he’d strolled into the room without knocking.
    Liam