Holding Out For A Hero. HelenKay Dimon
An old rage overtook him. He had stopped letting people treat him like crap decades ago. He no longer just took it because that’s what he needed to do to stay in an apartment or get food. That kid grew up, got a badge, and refused to give anyone the power to make him feel unworthy again. Then along came Deana and he morphed back into that stupid poor kid again. The sensation shook him.
She glanced up. “You could help me.”
“No thanks.” He unlocked the door. “Don’t want to get my hands dirty.”
That was the second time Josh exited a room and left her staring at a closed door. The guy knew how to get the most drama from a situation.
Deana’s bigger concern centered on how in just a few seconds he had managed to make her insides puddle. When he had moved in close and she inhaled that masculine mix of sunshine and musk that clung to his skin, her resistance shattered into a million pieces. Even now her hands trembled and refused to stop. She clenched and unclenched her fingers, trying to gain control over her muscles.
In that moment of closeness she wanted him to kiss her. And like every mindless woman she had read about in that file on his past, she wanted him to want her back. She had mentally classified the others as silly and gullible. Stupid, even.
Then what the hell did that make her?
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