“Zombies will surprise you coming out of hiding,” he said, much in the manner of one handing down a sermon. “But I’m going to be around, too, and you might not always know exactly where I am. It’d be great if you didn’t just react but thought about who you’re aiming at and what you’re doing. You clear your immediate right, then work your way across the rest of the room. You do not shoot until you’re certain of your target. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Nick.” She tried for contrite but he kept right on scowling.

“Why are you smiling?”

He definitely thrilled her. Maybe it was the lecturing. There’d been a professor back in her university days who’d filled her fantasies for months. The “thou shalt do as I say” attitude had a powerful pull on her, apparently. Maybe he was right and she had daddy issues or something. Or maybe it was the way he worked with her for once, instead of against her.

“Why are you smiling, Ros?” he repeated.

“No reason,” she said airily.

He just looked at her. Candlelight didn’t soften the harsh lines of his face, accentuated by his present pissy mood. Nick wasn’t handsome, exactly, but he had presence. Which by no means meant she’d roll over and take his bossiness like a good girl.

“And why are we even using guns?” she asked. “I mean, if they’re so loud and dangerous, then why not replace them with something more suitable for the job?”

“What, you want a sword now?” he asked, voice heavy with disbelief.

“Maybe, or a machete or an axe … a crowbar would work, right?”

“It would.” He strolled toward her. “But, Roslyn, what do you think would happen if you got splattered with infected blood? What if your mouth was open and some got in, hmm?”

“It would be bad. I know that. But to kill them effectively with something other than a gun we’re going to need to get within a reasonable distance.”

“Exactly.”

“And? They move slower than we do. What is your point here, Nick?”

“Close-quarters combat is dangerous. Didn’t you learn that yesterday?”

“Everything is dangerous!” She threw her arms wide and he caught her hands, held onto them. He swung them back and forth by their sides as if they were children. Then he stepped closer. There was a distinct gleam in his eyes, something other than anger but every bit as heated.

“Did I please you?” he asked in a low voice.

“What?” The sudden change in topic threw her, that and his nearness. His scent enveloped her, warm, male, and familiar. It lured her libido right in. And the way he’d phrased the question—his words circled inside her head and held her in thrall. His eyes had also darkened. So … everything. Everything about him threw her. “What do you mean?”

“You wanted to start training immediately, so we started. I kept my promise.”

“Ah. Yes,” she said. “You did. And you pleased me. I am officially pleased.”

Nick slowly nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay,” she repeated, because she was apparently a brain-dead, sex-hungry parrot with damp panties. Lust filled the air with the promise of hot times ahead. She couldn’t be imagining it.

“Alright.” He swallowed and stepped back, dropping her hands. “We’d better get some sleep.”

Then the man turned and walked away from her, snuffing out the extra candles as he went, leaving only the one on the bedside table alight. He didn’t look back.

What the f**k?

Slapping her couldn’t have been more effective. For the second time that day, he’d said no to sex.

“Nick?”

“Yeah?” He sat on the end of the bed and tugged off his boots and the socks beneath, too.

“What’s going on?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t understand what’s going on here.”

He shoved a hand through his hair. “It’s late. We should get some sleep.”

Clearly, they’d entered a different dimension, one where Nick didn’t want her. Except that couldn’t be right. He’d been plenty hard in the shop earlier, and his jeans sported an impressive bulge now. So, whatever his issues were, her sexual attractiveness to him didn’t seem to be a part of it.

Men were such complicated creatures. Women were so much more straightforward.

He grabbed the back of his shirt and dragged it off over his head. The revelation of his hard body made her swoon. The bands of muscle and the way they flexed as he rolled his shoulders. He had a certain grace to him, an efficiency of movement. She could watch him for hours.

“You want to sleep?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

She sat on a chair and removed her own brand new boots and comfy socks. Pulled her shirt off and dumped it on the small table. His gaze jumped to her, taking in the sensible cotton bra, but was hastily diverted. He scurried into the bathroom and she heard the sounds of him brushing his teeth. When he emerged he got straight into bed, climbing beneath the blankets. With eyes shut, he gave every appearance of settling in for the night.

So he missed the removal of the rest of her clothes.

“I guess you’re really tired,” she said, throwing back the blankets on her side of the bed. She climbed onto the mattress, clad in nothing but her own skin.

“A long day.”

“Yeah, it was,” she agreed.