And there was the smile again, the one that softened the hard lines of her face and lit her eyes brighter than the lamps burning behind her. He'd wanted to kiss her the first time he saw it, and he wanted to even more badly now. The edge of her thumb, curled against his cheek, nearly brushed his mouth. He took a deep breath and thought fixedly about the dangers in getting personal on missions, the probability that he would be very very dead when he got home, the outside chance that he'd hurt her even more.

She was still smiling at him, naked and strong and beautiful.

None of it mattered.

He ducked his head, and her hand slipped through his wet hair and curled around the back of his neck. Her lips softened beneath his, and he caught a hint of that lingering taste of ginger candy. Did he still taste of blood? She wasn't pulling away...

He ended it first, nipping gently at her lower lip, slipping his hand around her lower back to hold her close. "You're beautiful," he said quietly, fiercely. "And I want you just about as much as I've ever wanted any woman. But you deserve to be happy. What do you want?"