Jim couldn’t get her out of his mind as he continued down the hall toward his core group of men who led and protected the complex. He knew they were waiting for him. The past few astounding minutes distracted him. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. About the past and the present. About the way her skin felt and how she’d responded to him. Gina Hanson was gorgeous. He’d always known she was beautiful, with an athlete’s body that wouldn’t quit, but she was clever too—an almost irresistible combination for a man like him who valued brains as well as beauty. She’d been too young for him in the old world, and he wouldn’t have disrespected her father by messing around with his daughter. Messing around was all it could have been then. Jim had been devoted to his work as a CIA operative. There’d been no time for relationships or family. Jim had always figured if he survived long enough to retire, he’d start thinking about the white picket fence, family and dog that went along with it then.
