More Than Friends (The Warriors) Read Online Free PDF

criminal or something equally awful."
    He recalled her past aversion to weapons of any kind, even though he and Micah had taken her target shooting when they’d all lived in the Washington, D.C. area. "I’m in federal law enforcement," he said, stretching the truth to accommodate the situation.
    "It suits you somehow. The gun, I mean."
    All the expression left his face. "Carpenters carry hammers." Brett would never forget the heated discussions they’d once had about gun control. "I carry a weapon, but I’ll keep it out of sight if it bothers you."
    "Oddly enough, it doesn’t bother me, but it might under normal conditions. Whatever the hell
normal
happens to be." She frowned again. "Are you going to take me back to Monterey now?"
    "Is that what you want?" He kept his voice level, hoping he could conceal his concern that she might insist on returning to her home. Protecting her would be far easier if they remained on the move.
    "Not really. If you don’t mind, I’d like to stick with our vacation plans. Then, if I don’t remember anything by the time we reach Seattle, maybe seeing my family will jog my memory."
    She absently trailed her fingertips across the top of his large hand and then up his forearm. He tensed, her light touch sending charged currents of heat into his flesh. His muscles bunched beneath her fingertips and desire for her thundered through his entire body.
    "I don’t want to be alone right now," she admitted in a small, vulnerable voice that made his heart lurch in his chest.
    "I don’t intend to leave you alone, so no worries there," he promised.
    She met his piercing gaze. "Thank you."
    "For what?"
    He pushed up to his feet as he waited for her reply. He felt too tempted by his craving to reacquaint himself with the curves and hollows of her body to remain in such close proximity to her. So hungry for a lingering taste of her, he clenched his fists as he moved into the center of the room. His body, awash in arousal and tension–filled, fought him and briefly denied him the control he sought.
    Turning away from her, Brett drew in an unsteady breath. Her silence prompted him to repeat his question. "Why did you just thank me?"
    "For everything you’ve just done to help me, but especially for being my friend. I obviously need one right now."
    Surprised by her obvious sincerity, he pivoted to look at her. He started to speak just as a knock sounded on the door. His hand strayed to his gun. Pure instinct. Brett stopped in mid–reach when he saw the startled look on Leah’s face.
    "Force of habit, I’m afraid," he said, trying to explain reflexes too ingrained to abandon. "Stay put."
    His order made her laugh. "Yes, sir."
    He grinned at her then, the change in his facial features provoking a stunning transformation. His dark eyes twinkled, white teeth flashed, and the upward curve of his lips seduced. Neither pretty nor handsome, Brett Upton personified the classic raw–boned, barely civilized male—the same kind of male who rarely questioned his own prowess when dealing with women or dangerous situations. None of the desire, self–doubt, or guilt he felt showed, but all of those emotions and more thrived within his heart and mind.
    "I definitely like the sound of that. Want to try it again… just for practice," he teased in spite of his own inner turmoil.
    Leah scowled at him, although amusement lingered in her eyes. "Don’t hold your breath. Besides, it might be totally out of character."
    Brett nodded, his expression growing pensive as he gave her a final probing look. "It has been… in recent years."
    As he walked to the sitting room door, Brett resigned himself to the fury she would feel when she regained her memory. He didn’t want her amnesia to last too long, but he intended to savor her unguarded behavior and her willingness to depend on him. This was the old Leah, the Leah able to be vulnerable when she trusted a man, the Leah he still wanted day in and day out. Once, she had