Excerpt of High Ground by Madelon Smid

Josh conjectured he’d have trouble sleeping with any near
stranger in the next room. Honesty forced him to
acknowledge Cat caused his insomnia. He’d mentally
conceived the next step in his new design, meditated,
dropped to the floor for a hundred pushups. He’d get
himself a snack and write the algorithm before he lost
it.

The snick of a bullet being chambered froze him mid step.
He inched his hands above his head and turned to face the
sound. If someone shot him, he damn sure wanted to see
the perpetrator face to face.

The pistol remained on him. A graceful hand switched on
the light beside the chair, highlighting a vision he’d
retain forever; if he could regulate his heart rate
before it imploded.

“You’re supposed to protect me, not gun me down in my own
home.” Intrigue flared in a bright arc, filling him with
energy. He stepped closer, fascinated. She’d been
watching over him. My own warrior woman prepared to fight
to the death protecting me.

She shrugged, lowering her weapon. “You could have been
an assassin.”

“No way,” he said with absolute certainty. “My system
would warn us of the slightest attempt at breaking in.”
It surprised him how much he wanted her to believe in his
ability. He continued to close the distance between them.
The gold halo of the lamp shone down on her. He stopped a
few feet away, entranced by the picture she made. She
wore a thin white cotton camisole with bits of ribbon and
lace along the low décolleté. She’d pulled her legs into
the chair, ankles crossed, knees high. The gleaming
columns of satin hid her bottom half. She’d brushed out
the tortured hair style from earlier, leaving a mass of
corkscrew curls brushing her shoulders. The light stroked
the shiny strands with a lover’s touch, picking out every
shade of brown from tawny gold to russet. He gave up on
slowing his heart rate. She reminded him of pictures he’d
seen of Quadroons in the 1800’s, the descendants of
African slaves and their Caucasian masters. White men
prized the earth bound goddesses as concubines prior to
the Civil war. With her high cheekbones, tilted eyes and
full lips, Josh could see why slave traders had scoured
the states to find girls with Cat’s description. His
libido soared with the force of his response to her.