Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Something soft against his cheek. Something that smelled really good.
Nick had a soldier’s reflexes and came awake instantly, always. Fully oriented, fully ready for battle. Sometimes with gun in hand. The world was a dangerous place, and you could never let down your guard.
But now? Nah.
He came awake in small swoops. Softness. A really nice smell. Though his eyes were closed, sunshine painted the inside of his lids a golden glow.
Another soft touch and his eyes opened, briefly. Man, his lids felt heavy. He did not want to wake up.
Lips kissed his cheek.
“I wish I could let you sleep, but we have a long day ahead of us.”
A few facts seeped into his sex-and sleep-soaked brain. He was not in one of his hardship posts. The bed was exceedingly comfortable, and he felt really good. It wasn’t his London flat, either. His bed there was hard as a board and smelled of professional dry cleaning.
And sure as hell nothing soft touched his cheek.
He opened his eyes and met amazing blue eyes.
“Hi,” Parker said softly. “Sorry to—”
He hooked a hand around her neck, pulled her to him and kissed her.
It felt familiar and new. They’d kissed all night, but they hadn’t kissed in the morning.
It had a hotness all its own. Nick wrapped his arms around her back and turned with her in his arms. She was under him, that slender elegant frame his to explore.
His hand went slowly up her side until he was cupping her breast.
Oh yeah.
Parker smiled against his mouth. “Much as I’d like to continue this, I’m afraid you’re going to have to get up.
If you want to take a shower, I laid out a towel for you.
When you get out, breakfast will be ready.
It won’t be as elaborate as the breakfast at your hotel, but I think you’ll be satisfied. ”
And she slithered out from under him and was gone.
Christ. He missed her, missed the feel of her in his arms. But good things for him were in store. Just sitting across the table from her would be fantastic, let alone if she fed him.
Nick padded naked across her bedroom. He glanced outside the window. It was a glorious day, the sky bright bright blue. On the horizon, the Bay was a flat blue table with toy boats sailing across it. It was going to get hot. He was going to have to make sure Parker slapped on sunscreen.
Her bathroom smelled of her and it gave him a half-boner. His dick hopefully stuck straight out. Having loved what it did last night and wanting more, more, more.
Well, he told his dick, forget about it. For now.
The bathroom was small, pretty, old-fashioned. With one shower spout that got the job done. His London flat bathroom was huge, had acres of marble everywhere and the shower had eight shower heads. It had taken him ten minutes to figure out how the settings worked when he moved in.
And he was someone who’d managed to learn to use a Chinese GPS. Fast. Under fire.
Parker’s shower was self-explanatory and worked just fine. The towel was great—big and fluffy and smelling of lavender.
While he was showering, Nick was torn between dragging Parker back to the bed and having more sex. As much as they could stand.
Door number one.
Door number two was being a big boy and accepting that sex wasn’t going to happen right this moment. It would happen later. When they came back and she fed him. Including tiramisu.
Right now it was breakfast and a day in Parker’s company.
And as he was toweling off, Nick had a sudden stab of insight. He didn’t have many of them, he knew. He was a totally fact-based man without much introspection. But he realized what was different about the night they’d spent together.
He wanted more. But not just of the sex.
His adult life had been spent on missions with infrequent down times. His missions were in sex-free zones of the world. Not to mention everyone’s dick stayed down in danger zones.
So when he could have sex, he tended to fill up.
His last lover had been an analyst for the Financial Times in Hong Kong, a year ago.
They were staying in the same upscale hotel and had met at the hotel bar.
They both had four-day layovers. They spent those four days in bed, even eating room service meals on the bed, with a DO NOT DISTURB sign on the door.
They’d both been sore at the end of the four days.
She left early on the morning of the fifth day, leaving a nice note.
He never did find out her last name. He could have discreetly inquired at the hotel desk. Go Solutions was a corporate client, and they would have told him.
But he didn’t. It had been fun, but it hadn’t been more than the sex.
With Parker, he couldn’t wait to spend more time with her, in and out of bed. And there’d be time. He’d make sure of it. This didn’t end here.
He dressed and walked into the small kitchen. Parker turned and saw him and blushed.
“Hey,” she said.
He walked over and kissed her. “Hey.”
A moka pot started boiling on the stove, and the smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the room. She smiled at him. “Breakfast is ready. Go sit down and I’ll join you. Crazy after last night’s meal, but I’m actually hungry.”
They’d burned a bazillion calories last night, but Nick said nothing. There was a small table set for breakfast right under a window that let in a huge amount of light.
Nick stood until Parker brought in the moka and sat down. He leaned back and looked at the table. “Really nice,” he said.
There were a pretty cream-colored tablecloth and cream-colored napkins. A breakfast set of dishes with a light green rim and green mugs.
The table held fresh toast, butter, two kinds of jam, a plate of scrambled eggs, a bowl of Greek yogurt with fresh fruit and, on a separate plate, slices of honeydew melon.
Parker had just finished pouring his coffee when there was a light knocking at the door.
Nick half rose, alarmed. Who the fuck was knocking at her door at 7:30 in the morning?
Parker pushed gently on his shoulder. “Down boy,” she murmured. “It’s not terrorists at the door. It’s a pleasant surprise.”
She went to the door, opened it and picked something up from the floor. Nick frowned. A plate wrapped in a rectangle of cloth, the four corners of the cloth tied in a knot.
She placed it on the table, unwrapped it and ohmygod.
It was a yellow cake with baked lemon slices on top and it smelled divine.
“Mrs. Da Costa,” Parker said, smiling. “I told you she was generous with her baked goods. This is a thank you for carrying her groceries up. Here.” A thick wedge landed on his plate and the smell was even more incredible when it was right under his nose.
A much smaller slice landed on her plate. “Lemon cake. Her specialty.”
Nick speared a chunk with his fork and closed his eyes.
“Good, right?” Parker smiled.
It was moist, not too sweet, very lemony. Perfect.
Nick took a sip from his cup. Perfect coffee.
He looked at the table, with pretty plates filled with luscious food, then looked at Parker, sitting across from him. Smiling at him.
Perfect.
“How is it that every experience I’ve had with you is a peak experience?”
He hadn’t meant it suggestively, but Parker turned stoplight red. When she blushed, she was outlandishly beautiful, and Nick realized that subconsciously he’d included the sex. It had been amazing.
Everything was amazing.
“That, too,” he said easily. “But also the food and setting.” He put another bite of Mrs. Da Costa’s lemon cake in his mouth and sighed. Perfect.
Parker smiled at him. “Wait until today is over. A long day under the sun at an archeological site watching me take notes will not be a peak experience.”
Actually, that sounded great.
“We’ll see. I promise I won’t be bored. And anyway, tonight you’re going to cook for me.”
“Yep. A promise is a promise.”
He suddenly thought of something. “Wait. You’re going to spend a long day working. You don’t need to cook for me. You’ll be tired. We could—”
She held up a hand. “Stop. First of all, I’ll owe you.
” She lay a long slender finger across his mouth when he began to protest. “And believe it or not, cooking relaxes me. And I’d infinitely rather prepare something simple and relax in my own home than go out after a long day.
Here. Have some of my raspberry jam. It’s baked. ”
Beneath that lovely exterior was pure steel and Nick understood he wasn’t going to get her to change her mind. So he ate her jam on a thick slice of sourdough bread instead. It was perfect.
They ate quietly. Nick tried not to be a pig, but everything was really good, and he’d worked up an appetite. The lemon cake was to die for.
He swallowed and asked the burning question. “Does Mrs. Da Costa’s cooking run to tiramisu?” His favorite dessert.
Parker shook her head, shiny hair brushing her shoulders. “Sadly, I think not. I’ve had the full repertoire, but so far, no tiramisu. I have some tiramisu in the freezer, though. I’ll pull it out for dinner this evening.”
Nick paused, last forkful halfway to his mouth. “You have tiramisu?”
She nodded. “I do.”
“Homemade?”
She was fighting a smile. “It is.”
“By you?” Nail it down, he thought.
“Indeed.”
Nick slapped a hand over his chest, somewhere near his heart. “Oh God. You can make tiramisu. Marry me.”
Parker laughed. “You’re so easy. A dessert and you’re already proposing?”
He nodded. “Tiramisu is one of my weaknesses. Now that I’ve found a source, I’m going to guard it. Like a dragon hoards its treasure.”
“Well, Smaug. I only have three bowls of it. I hope that will be enough. I’ll give you mine. Three portions.”
“No way.” Nick frowned. “I can’t take your portion.”
“No, you can have it. I can always make more, just not today. And you’ll earn the extra portion because you’re going to have a long, hot, boring day.”
A day spent with Parker. “It might be long and hot, but it definitely won’t be boring.”
Silence. They looked at each other. There were things being said silently. Nick didn’t catch it all—women were better at that—but he caught enough.
Yeah. Something was definitely happening.
Parker rose, dishes in hand. “We should get going. We’ll have to stop by your hotel. You can’t be out on a dig in that elegant outfit fit for Il Terrazzone. I’m hoping you packed for roughing it.”
Nick rose, too. “I did. I always pack for the possibility of going on a hike. Though these past few years, where I was, going hiking was taking your life in your hands. Here, let me help you.”
The two of them cleared the table quickly and Parker loaded the dishwasher.
Parker picked up a tablet and a laptop and put them into a backpack and bent to pick up a cooler. “I made a picnic lunch for us. I hope you like tuna fish sandwiches. I also made ham and cheese.”
“They’ll be great,” Nick said as he took the cooler from her hands. “And thanks.”
She frowned up at him. “You’re dedicating a day to me, probably two or three, and you’re thanking me for making a few sandwiches? The least I could do.”
They were at the door. “Stop thanking me. I’m delighted to trail along. But it’s going to be fiercely hot. You’re going to need a—”
“Hat,” she said, and pulled out a wide brimmed hat from a tote bag near the door.
Nick ran a finger down her cheek. The skin was soft. He knew how soft she was all over. “And make sure you have sunscreen. If you don’t, we can stop somewhere on the way.”
She pulled out a yellow tube from the bag. He could see 50 SPF on it. “Already there, mom. No worries. Sheesh.”
“Don’t want this skin to get burned.”
Any other woman would have bristled, but she just smiled at him.
“We ready?”
“I guess we are. I’ll be fast at my hotel. I want to be on the road before rush hour. When’s rush hour?”
Parker locked the door and sighed. “Always. Traffic is always bad. But it’s particularly bad from around nine to ten.”
“We’ll beat the traffic.”
Nick made it to his hotel along the Bay in record time. They walked into the immense lobby, and he felt a secret thrill walking in, Parker on his arm. He’d left yesterday evening, a boring businessman, and was walking back in with a prize on his arm.
The hotel lobby was spectacular. Sleek and modern without being soulless.
“Do you want to come up or do you want to wait for me in the lobby?”
She looked around. “I’ve never been here. It’s really nice. I think I’ll wait for you here.”
Nick sat her down in one of the numerous elegant conversation sets. Behind her chair was an explosion of bouquets and she looked like a queen.
“Good call. I’ll be fast.” On his way to the bank of elevators, Nick ordered a cappuccino for her.
In the room he changed into cargo pants, a light long-sleeved shirt, boots and a ball cap. He also packed a go bag with several changes of clothes, his shaver, toothbrush and toiletries. Some gear he always had with him. And a box of condoms.
God yes.
Jesus, he couldn’t wait to get back down to her.
She was sipping her cappuccino, reading the hotel copy of an Italian newspaper, La Repubblica.
“Hey.”
She smiled at him. “Hey yourself. Thanks for the cappuccino.”
He shrugged, passed a hand over her hair. “Everything okay with the world?”
Usually, Nick was always super plugged in. He subscribed to a lot of online newspapers and political newsletters and a couple of databases and usually checked hourly. He hadn’t checked any source of news in over fourteen hours.
Parker sighed. “Not really. There’s a low-level war just started in the Republic of Congo, an earthquake in Tibet, a new viral outbreak of a mystery disease in Shanghai and the Pope’s in the hospital again.”
He already had men in Congo. Nothing he could do about Tibet or Shanghai. “Sorry to hear that. He’s a good man.”
“He is. Are we ready?”
“Yeah.” Nick reached down to give her a hand. She didn’t need a hand getting out of the armchair, but he liked touching her. He kept her hand in his and tucked it into his arm and walked out of his hotel with the most beautiful woman in Naples on his arm.