She felt his hands running along her body, brushing over every curve and crevice. Though the circumstances were not the best—he was, after all, patting her down to find out if she had another weapon—she couldn't help feeling a small flutter of her heart as he touched her.

"Caitlin Todd," he said. Her name rolled around in his mouth amid his thick accent. It sounded almost delightful.

He rolled her over and she looked up into his eyes, her anger dissipating. For a man so callous and cold, his eyes were warm and inviting. Her lips parted and she sucked in a deep breath. It was so dark and secluded down there. Who knew where things could lead?

Ari's hand fell upon her cheek and he trailed his fingers down along her skin. Her heart beat wildly within her. It was so loud she was surprised no one else heard it. His hand reached her neck and he crooked his finger beneath her chin, tilting her head back.

"Are you frightened, Caitlin?"

"No," she said in a soft tone. And she meant it.

His fingers moved from her face down toward her chest. Slowly, those nimble fingers unhooked each button of her top until it fell open, revealing her torso, naked save for her bra. His hand settled atop her stomach. "Firm," he commented. "You stay in shape."

"I like to work out."

"Treadmill?"

"I prefer grappling."

He smiled. "Perhaps you could give me a demonstration."

"Gladly." But she didn't say that in a snide, angry tone she usually used with him. This time her voice was melodic and flirtatious, coy even. It was as though she were egging him on. In a way she was.

Ari leaned down toward her, his hand running down and down until it rested on her inner thigh, his thumb softly stroking the material of her pants. His eyes trailed over her face, his lips pursing together. He lessened the space between them, closing in on her until their lips were together.

Kate felt her eyes sink closed as she tasted him. She wasn't sure what she'd expected him to taste like, but it wasn't this. Her hands roamed up and grasped at his head, her fingers slipping through the follicles of hair.

He pulled back finally, leaving her breathless. "You impress me, Caitlin."

"You didn't expect me to kiss you back?"

"I'd hoped you wouldn't."

"Oh? And why is that?"

"Because it makes it all the more difficult to resist."

With that, he slipped his arms beneath her body and lifted her off the table. He cradled her against his body. He was thin, but strong, and she could feel his muscles as she pressed against him.

"Do you think this is wrong?" he asked.

"Wrong for whom?"

"For either of us."

"I can't exactly say it's right."

He laid her on the icy pullout table of one of the coolers. Knowing that the table had held many a dead body…well it was disconcerting to say the least.

"Don't tell me you're planning to lock me up in there," she said, only slightly concerned.

"Of course not," he told her, brushing strands of hair from her face. His touch made her shiver in delight and anticipation. "I just thought we could have privacy this way." He pulled himself on top of her, his body blanketing hers in the most wonderful way. "Are you ready, Caitlin?"

She nodded, not even able to find the words.

"Are you ready?" he repeated, his lips kissing down along her neck,

"Yes," she managed to get out. "I'm ready."

"Good," he murmured, working off her unbuttoned shirt and tossing it to the side. "Then shall we?"

Before she could answer, Kate felt the table move into the cooler and the door shut behind them, locking them in. And suddenly she was frightened. "Ari?"

"I am right here, Caitlin."

"I don't think I can…"

"I'll be here with you the entire time, Caitlin."

"Ari?" No response. "Ari?" Still nothing.

"Ari!" she shouted, this time sitting up. The dark, chilly confines of the cooler had disappeared and had been replaced by the comforts of her warm, soft bed. It was empty, save for her. No Ari to be found.

Kate leaned over and clicked on the light. She was soaked in sweat and her body was trembling. This was not a good way to spend her nights.

It was 2:13, but she knew she wouldn't get to sleep for another hour or so. She was too riled up. She slipped out of bed, wiping the back of her hand across her forehead. It was covered with a heavy film of perspiration. She sighed and shuffled into the bathroom, turning on the water and splashing her face with the cold water.

How had Ari managed to do it? How had he managed to infuriate her while enticing her so? Ever since that ordeal in autopsy, his face had haunted her dreams. The funny thing was it wasn't a bad kind of haunting, the kind a child complains of when the boogeyman bothers them in their sleep. This was a good kind of haunting. It was almost arousing.

She hadn't told anyone about that, about how his hands had felt against her skin, about how warm his eyes had been when she'd looked in them. They'd think her crazy to have such feelings for a man like Ari.

"Leave it to me to become attracted to a terrorist," she muttered. "No one else would let that happen."

And Ari was attractive, in a scruffy, dangerous sort of way. Maybe that's what really got her; the danger of him. After all, danger could be a very enticing thing. Sometimes she thought that was what led her to the Secret Service to begin with.

She clicked on her overhead fan and slid back into her bed, lying back and resting her head on the still damp pillow. Her heart was still beating rapidly and she could feel her muscles turning to liquid. She closed her eyes and sunk into the mattress, waiting for a deep and peaceful slumber to overtake her.

But all she saw was his face.

AN: Not something I normally write, but a fun little exploration. Thanks for reading!