"You still sure?" he whispered.
Lana's eyes opened at his voice. They were cloudy with the same lust he felt.
"I trust you," she said, touching his face again.
Rather than feel pleasure at her words, they struck him like the cold shower he needed. A pang of morality reared its ugly head. Brady had taken care of this woman from a distance. She deserved more from her Guardian than to be slung over the couch for a quickie. Her first time with him wasn't going to be the product of coercion; he respected her too much for that. He also knew Tim wouldn't consider this part of taking care of her. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice low with desire.
Sensing he had the upper hand in any case, Brady forced himself away from her. He sat back and rubbed his face, fighting the urge to touch her again and take their relationship to the next level. The Guardian's relationship, he reminded himself. Lana didn't know who he was.
Not like this. Regretfully resolved, he rose and fixed his uniform then picked up her belongings.
"Brady, what's wrong?" Lana asked. Sensing the change in him, she sat up.
"I'll think about it," he said, walking towards the back of the tent with her things.
After a stunned silence, she asked. "What's there to think about?" She followed him and stood several feet away, face flushed with different emotions this time: anger and embarrassment. "Did I do something wrong?"
"Maybe I doubt you'll keep your word," he said, admiring the fire in her eyes. "And maybe, I don't want you tempting me to do something I shouldn't. You should never offer carte blanche to someone who just might take you up on it."
"Some things are more important than me," she retorted. "I will keep my promise!"
"One night isn't enough for this." He held up the vault again, and desperation crossed her features. "We'll deal with this later. In the meantime, I'll keep this locked up." He strode to the safe, placing the vault within.
Thoughts and emotions scattered, Lana watched him secure the vault in the safe and then leave. Her body shook with need. She meant what she'd said: she did trust him. She would've let him do anything to her on the couch. Her body wanted to feel his bare skin again, and aching desire pooled in her lower belly. She'd never thought desire could conquer her normally rigid self-control. With him, she had nothing to fear. He spoke like a rebel leader, but he touched her like she imagined the Guardian would: with tenderness and restraint.