Whatever It Takes Read Online Free PDF

who made her feel comfortable . . . safe . . . protected. That was no doubt why she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since the first time they’d met. Not that his six-­foot-­five frame and broad shoulders would be easily forgotten anyway. Nor the way his chest narrowed pleasantly to a ripped and flat stomach. Muscular arms and thighs flexed appealingly beneath his clothes, and she’d had no trouble imagining those muscles tightening snugly around her. Thick brown hair grazed the tops of his ears and curled upward slightly at the back of his neck, encouraged by his usual baseball cap, its brim pulled low to shade his eyes. His easy smile drew her when it lit up his face, even as his rugged features, perpetually roughened by a five-­o’clock shadow, gave her pause. He intrigued her, and left her wanting something she couldn’t name.
    “Will you be all right for a minute? I’m just going to the back.” Nate jerked his thumb toward the bathrooms and her attention back to reality.
    She nodded, and he walked away as the waitress brought her pie. Alex forked a bite into her mouth, savoring the sweet flavor, and washed it down with a swallow of coffee. What was she going to do about Nate now that their attraction for each other had announced itself? She wasn’t foolish enough to think it would simply go away. Or that Nate would be dissuaded by her slap. She had also pressed her body shamelessly against his and kissed him back. Talk about sending mixed signals.
    She took another bite and swallowed. From now on, she’d have to stay away from him. Most importantly, she had to stop thinking about his strong arms, his sexy smile, and the way his eyes darkened when he held her gaze.
    Alex took one more bite before giving up on the rest of her pie and pushing her plate away.
    Nate returned and slid into the booth. “Are you going to finish this?”
    She shook her head and he devoured the rest of the pie in four bites. The waitress stopped at his elbow again, and he pushed his coffee cup toward her so she could fill it. With a deep sigh, he scraped his hand down his face. Leaning his head back against the booth, he closed his eyes. A bruise had bloomed on his left cheekbone. Angry purples and reds covered the swollen knot where one of the big goons in the bar had hit him. That had been the last straw for Alex. She wasn’t equipped to sit and watch some overgrown creep beat Nate to a pulp. So, while everyone else was tuned in to the fight, she’d slipped unobtrusively out the back. Guilt made her somewhat ashamed as she remembered the sting of her hand on that same cheek not thirty minutes ago. Oh well. Apologies weren’t really her thing.
    His continued silence began to grate on her nerves. Before long, she gave in to her natural inclination to fill the void.
    “What happens now?” She pushed her cup to the edge of the table, where she hoped the waitress would fill it when she returned. Left unspoken was her haunting need to know if the men she’d wounded in the bar had died.
    Nate opened his eyes and met her gaze with such intensity she couldn’t breathe until she looked away, but he reached across the table and covered her hand. “What are you doing here, Alex?”
    She slowly raised her eyes to his again. “Joe found Marco.”
    Nate stopped, his cup halfway to his mouth. “Where? Is he alive?”
    She’d counted on his immediate interest. Eight months ago, five-­year-­old Marco, the son of a young Mexican woman, had been kidnapped by a rogue FBI agent in order to guarantee the woman’s complicity in his illegal activities. Nate had shot and killed the agent in a firefight that saved Ty’s life. But he’d also killed the only person who knew where the boy was being held. At the time, it was obvious he’d been guilt-­ridden. Now the hope that flashed in his eyes as he sat across from her made it clear self-­reproach still ate at him. Living with something like that would eventually get to