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"I can't offer you any promises," Michael said. "As soon as I'm accepted at the Bureau, I'll be shipping out to Quantico for training, then to Washington."
Wendy thrust her chin out in a gesture he was becoming very familiar with. "I'm not looking for a long-term relationship," she said. "But I'm scared and feeling all alone, and you're real and warm and solid, and I just . . . I just need you tonight. Stay here with me. One night."
One night. A promise of eight or ten or twelve hours of incredible delight. "And then we both walk away?"
"Do we have any other choice?"
"No." But maybe, he thought, if he indulged every fantasy he'd had about Wendy--and he'd entertained plenty--he could get over his fixation on her.
"Make up your mind," she said, crossing her arms. "I don't make this sort of offer every day."
Ah, hell, he already knew what his answer was. "You drive a hard bargain, lady," he said, reaching for her.