
“I’m not hitting on you.”
Brody grinned. “Not yet, anyway.”
At the expression on his face Jillian’s body responded, warming,
as automatic as a reflex.
“The point is that this job kills relationships. We’re
on the road, out all night, always in a crowd, surrounded by people
looking to get laid. It can get wild.”
“It’s a tough job, but someone has to do it?”
“You got it.” His eyebrows lifted as if her joke had surprised
him. She was coming off too serious, she realized, no doubt a strike
against her.
“I don’t have a boyfriend, so that’s no problem.
Neither is the travel or the hours or whatever it takes. I’ll
work hard. I’ll be what you need.”
“And what do you think I need?”
There was heat in his words, something sexy and intimate that caught
her short. Something that made her think of bodies entwining on twisted
sheets.
“Me,” she blurted. “You need me.”
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