Chapter 5
5
Who was this guy to tell her what to do? The question rattled around in her brain as she hung upside down over his shoulder, spitting mad that he had pulled her away from that meeting. Her plan was coming together with Nick, who was a genius in network and complexity analysis. No matter how many times she told Hazard to put her down, he ignored her, and pounding on his hard, muscular back only made her think about how broad-shouldered he was, damn him , all those muscles flexing in time to his progress from the elevator to her new room.
She was trying to forget all about the way she had felt when he’d touched her to take a bite out of her hard-won cupcake. Those straight, beautiful teeth of his, flashing white, the hard, so sexy line of his jaw, and the way those eyes had told her he wished he was setting those teeth against her skin. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to dispel that weakness. She didn’t have time to dally with any man, and certainly not one who kept challenging her every step of the way. A man in uniform to boot. Not on her life would she want to go through what she had gone through with Jamie. Private First-Class James Summerfield, USMC. Deceased and buried in Cambridge, his hometown. With his death went all her hopes and dreams and she would never let a man do that to her again.
The pain had dulled with time but surfaced now for the second time in less than two days, her regret poignant, and she learned the hard way never to put all her eggs in one basket. Better to struggle alone than to open herself to heartache.
And being alone was by design. She hadn’t pursued a real relationship with anyone, just casual sex to satisfy that ache, but after all the work she was doing at her job, even that had been a long time ago.
None of that—the fear of pain or the lack of time—prevented her from thinking about it. Or looking. Or fantasizing. No red-blooded woman could look at Hazard and ignore just how devastatingly gorgeous the man was. And sexy. And so incredibly hot. Archer Booth was all male, from his thick tousled dark blond hair to those wide shoulders of his, to his lean hips and powerful thighs… and certainly everything in between. But he was always so tough or distant with her. She expected after the Great Cupcake Debacle that distance was nothing but a smokescreen. She wasn’t deterred from thinking about him as a man instead of a SEAL, her bodyguard and she suspected he had some delicious thoughts of his own.
She wasn’t thinking straight. She knew she wasn’t. She was so damned tired, and not just her body and mind, but her heart as well. Her mother had dredged up so much with her manipulations and her harsh words. She never curbed them, and Leigh had never felt so unloved in her life. Why would she repeat that disaster with Rodney? When she compared him in his thousand-dollar shoes and perfectly creased pants sitting politely on her mother’s dainty chair to rough-and-tough Hazard, she couldn’t help grinning. He was just the male counterpart of her mother...if you could call him that. He certainly wasn’t the man for her.
She felt so disoriented, heartsick, her doubts and anxieties in full force. Too many nights of work and not enough sleep. But she had read David’s email over so many times, trying to decipher if he still had confidence in her ability to bring in Angel Alzate. That’s what had prompted her to demand to be sent here to Colombia where she would be in charge of the mission on her terms. She had the best win rate in her district office. Certainly, that stood for something.
The past and present twined in her mind like vines, twisting, clinging vines tightening so hard around her mind that she couldn’t think straight. “Put me down!” she demanded again, but he remained stoic. A door opened and closed, and she found herself chucked unceremoniously on her bed with him pulling off her right boot.
She kicked out at him and scrambled across the mattress.
“Leigh, stop being so difficult. Your health is not something to fuck around with.”
“Oh, that’s rich coming from a man who’s trained to go beyond his limits with his combat breathing and sleeping. Don’t judge me.”
“I’m not judging you. Why the fuck would you say that?”
She wasn’t in charge right now and she couldn’t stand it. She hated to be managed. That’s what her parents had done to her all during her formative years, and even when she complied, it was never enough. He might say that, but how could she be sure he wasn’t judging her. She wanted to lash back. She couldn’t help herself. She just went off on him. “You’re being high-handed, and pushy.”
“That doesn’t answer the question, but I don’t care. Go to bed.”
He was right, but she was irrational, angry, experiencing strange longings, memories that all of a sudden haunted her with the kind of pain that seemed so fresh. Why couldn’t she have what she wanted? What she really wanted, as all that got muddled in her attempt to argue with only two active brain cells. She just reverted to petulance. “No.”
“When was the last time you had a full night’s sleep?”
She reached for the answer to throw it in his face, but then stood there blinking like an idiot. She had no idea. Her life had been nothing but work, so much work.
Years of work.
She bit her lip until she tasted blood, fighting furiously to hold back the tears that gathered in her eyes and clogged her throat. For most people that would be such an easy question.
Weakness surged into her like a tide, and she fought the urge to sink against the wall and sob. The tears choked her. The weakness sapped the stability from her knees. But before she could even fathom if she was going to just crumple, Hazard was there.
He wrapped his arms around her, supporting her. He was solid, the kind of foundation that was like bedrock. His strength startled her, not only the kind of body that could be called an immovable object, but one that was honed to take on any enemy—in this case, her stupidity in not getting the kind of rest she needed to effectively handle this investigation and subsequent takedown of Alzate.
Unable to drag her eyes away from his determined face, a swell of unexpected longing clogged her chest, overshadowing everything in her mind. Her heart stalled, and she saw past that arresting face to the kind of man who fought for strangers, who ran into bullets, who put his life on the line for his team and his country. The kind of man who would shield her from all harm, protecting her with his own life if need be. Unadulterated masculinity with an aura of courage, confidence, and selflessness. All of those revelations magnified his physical power, his riveting sexual intensity, his quiet air of assurance, a strength of character that made him who he was.
Something deep and needy washed through her, a sensual recognition of the man he was. With a feeling that seemed as bedrock-hard as his demeanor, she realized that she could trust him, and with that simple truth, he knocked through the barriers she’d spent years building as if they were made of nothing but glass. That recognition made her chest ache even worse, the ache blinding her, trying with all her might to put things into perspective, but whether it was the fatigue or the sheer, overwhelming quality of his capacity to give, she just didn’t know.
That forbidden door in her mind slammed open, and his warmth wrapped around her, making her feel more protected than she had ever felt in her life. Every encounter she’d ever had with him had been laced with their chemistry, but just sex wouldn’t have cut it with her. There was more here, so much more, and she wasn’t sure she had the courage to pursue it.
A sob slipped out.
Tightening his hold, he pressed her gently against the wall, giving her two solid bulwarks, one against her back, such a metaphor for him having her back, and clinging to him, her whole body now vibrating with need.
His breath was warm against her neck as he pressed his face against hers. “Hey, it’s okay. You can be pissed, and you can cry all you want,” he whispered, his voice husky. “But you’re not going to chase me away or make me change this assignment. Just give in, Leigh. It’s easy.”
Give in…it’s easy… Nothing was easy with him, not the feelings that had manifested for him, ones she’d denied over and over, or his hard, beautiful body, or his exacting sense of duty.
He was so big and tall, she felt incredibly delicate and feminine as he held her. For the first time in her life, she had to admit that he was as honest and real as it got. He made her realize everything that was missing from her other relationships—she didn’t intimidate him…at all. Whether she would admit it or not, she loved that about him.
She looked up into those compelling blue eyes, silvery and intense, and she just reacted without thought or consequence. She skimmed the pad of her thumb over his full bottom lip, aching to kiss him. Realizing she’d been aching to kiss him for a long time. His body tensed as she leaned into all that hard muscle and hot man, encouraged by the way he sucked in a sharp breath.
Her mouth found his exquisitely soft mouth, such a contrast to his hard body, and she pressed her lips against his, seduced by not only that raw, powerful masculinity but simply by him.
With a rough growl, his hand slipped into her hair, tightening in the strands, and with his other arm, he hauled her up against his body as his mouth moved hotly over hers. It was as if a gnawing craving she hadn’t been able to identify until now had just been fulfilled, but the taste of him only made her want more.
Her hand cupped his face, his stubble scratchy against her palm, his skin so warm, the textures of him something she wanted to explore—his silky hair, all that delineated muscle that she was sure ran like irresistible angles and shadows all over his delectable body, the smell of him, clean and natural, and just a tad like…cinnamon.
A violent shudder coursed through him, and Hazard tore his mouth away, his breathing harsh and labored in the silent room. He dragged in a deep, ragged breath of air, then slid his hand down to the nape of her neck. Clasping her firmly, he stared into her eyes, his gaze bemused, dazed, staggering for control.
"Archer," she whispered, loving the sound of his first name on her lips, in her mouth, and vibrating in her throat, returning the same kind of stare, finding what she had always been looking for there in the silver depths, drowning, breathing in the almost liquid air that crackled around them, gasping for oxygen, experiencing the kind of fear that had her reeling even more.
Shifting the angle of her head, he kissed her harder, his chest expanding and contracting in uneven breaths as he broke the kiss again. Every muscle in his body was tense, so hard and unyielding. He was trying to stop, and she both appreciated it and despised his attempt to get all this under control. She was trying to be good, tried with all her might to separate from him, but there was this wicked part of her that had nothing but sabotage in mind.
Feeling as if she was on the verge of splintering, she wanted to disappear in the dark from this colossal mistake, the darkness keeping their intimacy from view, but not from him, or the impression he made in her heart, overwhelming her mind, and heating her body. Overloaded with sensation, Leigh tightened her arms around him and closed her eyes, her breath catching as she opened her mouth against the soft skin of his neck, desperate for the taste of him, pushed hard by that dark, needy bitch that wouldn’t back down. A tremor coursed through him, and he stilled, his breath tripping, his grip on the back of her neck forcing her mouth back to his without mercy. She moaned against his lips, and her already aroused body responded eagerly, all liquid and burning.
He caught her head and covered her mouth in a kiss that made her sob, made her move against the hardness of him, made her crazy with wanting. Cupping her buttocks, he twisted his pelvis against her, then slid his hand beneath her sweater, the sudden release of her bra sent a gasp against his mouth. But he gave her no quarter, his hand hot against her skin as he cupped the fullness of her breast. Making a low, incoherent sound deep in his throat, he fingered the hardened nipple, then plundered her mouth with his tongue, and Leigh clutched at him, a jolt of sensation driving her deeper and deeper into the heat of urgency. Stroking his tongue with hers, she moved against him, desperate for the feel of him, silently begging for more.
His arm around her hips, he dragged her higher, crushing her against him, and Leigh sobbed out his name when she felt the hard, thick ridge of flesh against her. Frantic to feel him pressed intimately against her, she wrapped her legs around him and pulled herself flush to his groin.
Hazard shuddered, his arms convulsing around her. His hand was so tight in her hair, it was almost painful, he angled her face and took her mouth in another wild, plundering kiss, and Leigh surrendered everything to his hot, searching mouth. As if driven by an out-of-control need, he rocked his hips against her, and Leigh clutched his shoulders and for the first time in her life, she discovered what desire felt like, a thrill ride, a dangerous headlong rush into peril. He tasted like searing heat, ravenous hunger, and insatiable need all in a heavily muscled, six-foot, beautifully sculpted, lethal heart-mind-body-threatening package.
She shuddered as he carried her across the room, the movement of his thighs and hips making her ride hard against him. Crushing her to him with one arm, he carried her down onto the bed, and Leigh cried out against his mouth as his full weight settled between her thighs. Lifting her hips to accommodate him, he began thrusting against her, his mouth hungry and wild, and Leigh clutched him with her legs, frantic for the tormenting, assuaging rhythm, for the feel of his hardness deep inside her. She needed relief from the swelling, throbbing heaviness in her, to shuck the clothes that separated them, to accept every penetration, every thrust until she got what she needed from him and gave him what he needed from her.
With the chime sounding like an explosion, his cell phone went off in his back pocket, and hers started humming against her hip. It was on silent mode to keep her from distractions when she was talking to...oh God... what was his name …Nick, right . That was his name. She could barely even remember what he looked like with Hazard so close, so real and solid.
"Goddammit, Leigh. Do you always have to be so fucking difficult?" he whispered, even as she heard the frustration in his voice, appeasing her own frustration. Cursing the interruption, disappointment mixed with a myriad of emotions she had no idea what to do with, or how to even get past what was now going to be… this …between them. Where did they go from here? How was she going to reconcile all her fears and needs now that she’d tasted him and had him so freaking close, and revelations of how much she’d really wanted him, how lonely she was, how much she’d admired him?
“Yes. And I guess we’ve entered the seven rings of hell in ten minutes flat.”
He huffed out a breath, lifting away from her, and she wanted to cry, so sensitized she rolled and clenched her thighs together. “Hazard,” he answered with a growl. He listened intently, his breath still uneven. “She’s with me. We’ll be right there.” He sighed, glancing at her, then focused on the conversation again. “I’m fine.”
Which no one meant ever. No one using that word was okay.
He then looked at her. “We better get going.” He reached out his hand and she clasped it. He pulled her off the bed with such power, she was left stumbling.
She hurtled right at him, hitting his chest, and knocking the air out of her. “Geezus!” she groused, wheezing. “Do you have to be such a He-man? I think you broke my ribs.”
“You would be tucked away in bed right now, if you weren’t such a pain in my ass!” He headed for the door.
But that dark bitch in her took over. “Look who’s talking. Everything is your fault.”
He spun around so quickly, she took a step back. His intense blue eyes bore into her, searing her with that burning look. “What? If I remember correctly, you were the aggressor. You kissed me.”
“Well, you were enticing!”
“What the fuck does that mean?” He scrubbed his hand along his taut jaw.
It was satisfying to see him off-balance for a change. She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. Let’s go before this gets out of hand.”
High color slashed across his cheekbones, and his lips flattened into a grim line. His gaze raked down the length of her body in one scathing glance, making her feel stripped naked. “ This ! Out of hand? This is already out of hand! If this was a mission, we’d both be fucked.”
She smiled confidently, making his eyes flash hotter. “Well, if we were… fucked …we’d be fucking , and we wouldn’t be arguing about this !”
“Oh, geezus! We’d have a bona fide FUBAR situation,” he said sarcastically.”
She released an exasperated breath, completely at a loss. “What the hell does that mean in civilian talk!”
“In layman’s terms for your civilian ignorance. It means we’d be double fucked!”
“And you mean not in a good way?” she asked.
He shot her a withering look, then paced, then came back to her. “I’d rather be in combat than arguing with you. At least, I can shoot at the enemy.” He stepped so close to her he was brushing her body, and everything went haywire all over again. God, this was going to be torture, then his words sank in, and they hurt, more than she was willing to admit. He seemed to bring out the worst in her, or maybe it was something else altogether like love and hate was such a fine line.
Her chin lifted, not able to let his insult pass. One deep breath later, she realized her mistake. The warm, heady male scent of him curled through her senses, her body still on fire, still wanting. She could feel the heat of him, and her body responded, the damn traitor. She gave as good as she got. “Screw you, and your gun too.”
He smiled—a sexy, wry bad-boy grin that added to the chaos smoldering within her. “Right back to screwing. Are you trying to be a troublemaker or does that come naturally?” he said, his tone mocking.
“It comes naturally. I have the badge to prove it.” He didn’t reply, just glared and remained quiet, emanating a sexual kind of tension that seemed to increase with each passing second between them, as if it were a living, breathing entity influencing them both without reason. She refused to back down, knowing that she was crowding his personal space.
They stood glaring at each other like combatants, and the next thing she knew, she was meeting him across that hairsbreadth of a divide. In a lightning-quick move, he lunged at her, buried his fingers in her hair, pressing against her with his hard, undeniably aroused body. With a low growl encompassing both frustration and urgent need, he slanted his mouth across hers and sank his tongue deep, kissing her as recklessly as he had before. His mouth promised her so many things, and she wanted to know and experience everything he had to give.
The feverish intensity between them was sizzling hot, the strength and immediacy of their attraction spilling over each of their boundaries in a messy, intense way that was almost uncontrollable. It made her feel like they were forging a bond, neither of them able to fight this …thing. A frisson of excitement shot through her, making her feel alive and heady with anticipation, something only this man had the ability to trigger within her.
With a growl he pulled away from her, moving back a few steps, an incredulous and frustrated look on his face.
“What are you doing?” they asked in unison. He closed his eyes, taking great panting breaths.
“We’ve got to go before—” His cell rang, and his blue eyes blazed with simmering anger. He pulled out his cell phone, giving her a see-we’re-in-deep-doo-doo look.
He blew out all the breath in his lungs, then answered the phone. “Yes, boss. We were delayed by…ah…”
“Female stuff,” she whispered. No man was going to inquire or delve deeper when those words were uttered.
“Female stuff,” he repeated, rolling his eyes. “You bet, Ice. We’re on our way.”
She opened her mouth, but he held up his hand, walked to the door, and opened it, waiting. That very fine body of his was wired with determination and an underlying impatience that didn’t bode well for her.
When she didn’t immediately respond, he said through gritted teeth, “Move your shapely ass before my boss comes up here and busts me down a full rank for fuck—screw—” He took a hard breath. “For not being punctual.” His direct, blunt approach left no room for argument.
“Well, we wouldn’t want him to think we were fuck-screw—” She gave him a tight smile that made all those flashing lights in his eyes go off again. “—dragging our feet, would we?”
He frowned at her, and the muscle that ticked in his cheek was a good indication that his tolerance level was meeting its limit. She wondered if he would throw her over his shoulder like he had done in the conference room. That would be a grand entrance now, wouldn’t it?
She slipped out the door and started down the hall. He moved up behind her, and she turned to see him raise his arm, but then drop it abruptly. He had been about to touch her back to usher her along but thought better of it.
She had no clue how she was going to face Hazard across the table. The fatigue had a really bad hold on her now, and she suddenly wished she had taken his advice to go to bed after they ate. Then she bristled, not wanting to admit how much she’d overworked herself for so long. She didn’t want to think that she was stupid enough to put everything in jeopardy by being stubborn…or, she thought wryly, kissing the stuffing out of and almost having sex with the man who had been loaned to her for protection. The tightness in her temples that had lingered got worse, and she worried that she was heading for a blinding headache.
The pain in her head giving way to a whole different pain, she locked her jaw, determined to keep her emotions under control. Finally, dredging up some self-directed disgust for how she was behaving, she glanced at him again, at the rigid set to his jaw. Pow , right in the gut. Damn, had she opened some Pandora’s Box that couldn’t be closed? His effect on her was staggering.
Oh, God. She wanted to wail. What a mess she’d gotten tangled in, but she couldn’t seem to find any remorse. As emotionally tangled up as she was about Hazard, she had kissed him without provocation, losing her common sense, and her damn mind.
She got in the elevator, and he didn’t look at her. As it silently made its way to the first floor, a strange hollowness settled in her chest. They would have to resolve to keep everything…businesslike.
With that thought, that feeling returned, an emptiness she couldn’t define. As if she was making another, more terrible mistake, losing something very rare and special. Something that was really not hers to lose.