Chapter 11 #2
An image of Mary coming to her door in her flannel pajamas stirred more desire than a silky, sheer negligee, sabotaging his attempt to stay neutral. “Now, go to bed.” He hadn’t meant his tone to sound so mean, but it had the desired effect.
Mary scampered through the door and closed it behind her.
After one split second, Nick realized he hadn’t cleared her room. His heart leaped into his throat. He grabbed his gun from the desktop, and he sprung across the room, flinging open his door.
Mary spun, her hand frozen with the key poised to go in the lock, her gaze going to the gun in his hand. “What? I’m going to bed. You don’t have to threaten me.”
Nick’s face heated. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I just haven’t cleared your room,” he said quiet enough so as not to disturb the other guests.
He removed the key from her hand and inserted it in the lock, careful not to make a sound. “Stand to the side.”
Mary moved down the hallway and waited.
Crouched low, he unlocked the door and swung it open.
Nothing moved inside, but he didn’t trust the silence.
He reached up and flipped the light switch, ducking back out of range.
Again, nothing moved, no shots were fired.
All good signs but not enough to bet your life on.
With a deep breath, he somersaulted into the room and rolled to his feet, his SIG Sauer preceding him.
“No one’s here,” Mary said from the doorway.
“Jeez, woman.” Nick jumped in front of her. His gun still pointed toward the interior of the room. “Do you just want to get yourself killed?” he hissed over his shoulder. A quick glance proved her right. No one lurked in the shadows, or under the bed.
“There’s no one in here, but someone was.” Mary crossed the room and lifted something from the pillow.
“What is it?”
“Another clue.” Mary handed him a photocopy of an old newspaper article dating back to 1995.
Charges of treason in enemy arms sales case dropped for lack of evidence. The article listed Taylor Rayburn as the soldier in question.
“Taylor Rayburn?” Mary’s brows rose. “That might have been one of the names in the picture.”
She raced into Nick’s room.
Nick followed.
Mary grabbed the photograph and the magnifying glass from the desk. “There!” She pointed to the man standing in the back, the one with the civilian woman hovering behind him. “Do you see it?”
Nick took the glass from her and held it over the faded photograph. “Could be. I’ll have my guys run a check on that name and see what they come up with.”
Mary took the picture from him and sat in one of the lounge chairs next to the bed.
“I swear Taylor Rayburn looks like someone I should know.” She tipped her head, squinting.
“If it is, he’d be thirty years older. But I swear I’ve seen a picture of this man before.
Let me have the magnifying glass.” She held out her hand.
“Mary, we have a computer guru who specializes in this kind of thing. Let him do the hard stuff.”
“What about these documents, the letter?” Mary grabbed the stack of letters and rifled through them.
“You’re stalling.”
“No, I’m trying to figure this out.” Her hands stilled and her face blanched. “Oh my God.”
Nick dropped down on the bed beside her and took the letter she held open in her hand. “What?”
“These are love letters to my father.” Mary’s eyes filled and she stared up at Nick. “From Jasmine.”
Nick read through several. “There’s nothing worth killing a man over in these.” When he finally glanced across at Mary, he noted her pallor.
“She wasn’t lying. She really did know my father before he met my mother.”
“He was barely out of his teens when he went to Bosnia. All young men think they’re in love when they’re that young.”
“I didn’t want to believe her.” Mary shook her head, a tear slipping from the corner of her eyes. “I guess I always thought my mother was his first and only love.”
Nick’s chest tightened and he tossed the letters onto the bed. “It was a long time ago.”
“He never forgot her.” Another tear followed the first and Mary swiped at the offensive drop. “He never told me.”
The second tear made Nick’s chest squeeze even more, until he could barely breathe. If Mary didn’t leave soon, he’d be holding her in his arms telling her everything was all right. And he didn’t want to go there. “Go to bed, Mary. You’ll feel better about it in the morning.”
“But—”
“Go to bed.” He took the last letter from her and, grasping her hand, pulled her to her feet.
And right into his arms. That was his first mistake. His second was when he didn’t back up immediately. The heat of her body pressed to his ignited a flame so hot he couldn’t escape being burned through his clothing.
Her hands fluttered to his chest, her sky-blue eyes smoldering to gray. “I should go now.” But she didn’t make a move toward the door.
Nick didn’t bother to release her, his errant arms locking around her waist. Anger mixed with overpowering desire. “Damn it, Mary. You’re a complication.”
Her pretty brow furrowed. “No, I’m a woman.”
Her breathy response and the way she pressed against him only fueled the fire. “Which automatically makes you a complication.” He tipped her chin with his thumb, his gaze focusing on the plump swell of her lips. “I can’t get involved with subjects in my work.”
Her gaze left his and moved downward to his lips.
“Who’s asking you to get involved?” Her fingers climbed up his chest to slip around his neck and feather into his hair.
“I just want my dad back. I’m not promising you anything and I’m not asking for any other guarantees.
” Pressure on the back of his neck drew him inexorably closer to her.
Damn the rules.
They were just guidelines anyway. He had to taste her, had to feel her lips on his just once more.
“Good, because I don’t have any guarantees to give.
” His mouth crushed hers, slanting across her lips, his tongue darting out to slide between her teeth and duel with hers.
Anger, lust, passion and something more pushed him further.
His hands skimmed downward, cupping her buttocks, pressing her against the pulsing evidence of his quickly loosening grip on control. The solid ridge beneath his fly strained for release from the confines of his jeans.
How could he let her go now? How could he send her back across the hall to the safety of her room? She couldn’t be safe with him when he had only one thing on his mind, and it wasn’t tucking her in bed with a good night kiss.
He turned her, backing her against the mattress on his bed, until the backs of her legs hit and buckled. She sprawled across the bed, dragging him down with her.
Nick rolled to her side to keep from crushing her beneath his weight, and she rolled with him, their lips locked in a kiss that lasted until he remembered to come up for air.
When he did, his breath came in ragged gulps, his pulse leaping beneath his skin. “I’ve never wanted someone as much as I want you now.”
Nick’s words made Mary’s insides burn like a red-hot inferno, consuming her thoughts and destroying all common sense.
When she should be pushing him away, she pulled him closer.
Her mind had given up on its pathetic attempts to show her reason.
Nick had secrets he’d never tell, and he was only passing through.
He’d leave. She’d be heartbroken. The end.
But it wasn’t the end yet, and her body didn’t give a damn.
It wanted satisfaction only Nick could give her.
How long had it been since she’d made love with a man?
Two years? She’d waited. hoping for someone who’d love her and whom she could love back.
Someone who could be honest, no secrets, no lies to stand between them.
Why had she fallen for someone who couldn’t tell the truth, couldn’t love her forever? Wouldn’t be around for tomorrow?
Why didn’t these thoughts stop her?
His hand cupped her chin and slid down her throat, pushing aside the collar of her sweater. His lips followed the path of his fingers.
Suddenly, Mary felt suffocated by the heavy turtleneck sweater she’d worn for their clandestine mission to her dad’s basement. She reached for the hem, dragging it up over her belly.
A large hand stopped hers. “Are you sure? Don’t start something you can’t finish.”
“I’m sure.” From stark uncertainty to positive confirmation, she made up her mind. If this was a one-night stand, so be it. A woman had to grab for happiness when it came. Damn the consequences. Her hand paused beneath her breasts. “Before we do, tell me two things.”
His lips twitched. “If I can.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You better.”
He nodded.
“You don’t have a wife hiding somewhere in the lower forty-eight states, do you?”
“What?” His eyes widened, his surprise evident. “No. I don’t.”
“Promise?” she asked.
“Scout’s honor.”
She stared long and hard into his eyes.
He smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. “That one was easy.”
“I still have a second question.”
“Shoot.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
Nick captured her lips in a long, heated kiss. “Your question?” he murmured against her lips.
Her heart fluttered and she found this question both harder than the first, and even more urgent with the rise of longing claiming her body. “Do you have protection?”
Nick reached into the nightstand and lifted out a foil package.
A smile spread across Mary’s face and an exquisite ache built between her legs. She jerked the sweater up and over her head, dropping it to the side of the bed.
Leaning over her, Nick kissed the swell of her left breast peeking out of her black lace bra. His fingers slid around her back to unclasp the hooks. With deliberately slow movements, he eased the straps from her shoulders, tugging them down her arms until her breasts sprang free.
Mary shivered, her nipples puckering at Nick’s heated gaze. She wanted to see him naked, to feel his skin against hers. She pushed his shirt up his chest, eager to touch bare skin, feel his strength and warmth beneath her fingertips.
Nick sat up and removed his shirt, tossing it to the floor.
Then he was on his feet beside the bed, loosening the button at her waistband and easing the zipper downward.
He kissed her belly, his fingers sliding beneath the elastic of her black bikini panties with slow, sensual care.
Mary almost screamed with frustration. She wanted him inside her. Now. Hard and fast.
At last, he tugged her pants and panties down her legs. Completely exposed to his view, Mary had never felt more desirable.
Then Nick removed his own clothing, his gaze locked with hers, as each item dropped to the floor until he stood in all his naked glory.
Mary’s mouth watered as though anticipating a tasty dessert.
Nick St. Claire was a perfect specimen of all that was incredibly male and sexy. From his smoldering eyes, broad shoulders, ripped muscles and well-defined abs to that part of him standing at bold and beautiful attention. “Are you sure?” he asked.
“Never more certain in my life.” A thrill of power surged through Mary. She’d made him that hard. He wanted her. She scrambled to her knees and reached out for him, dragging him back to the bed, where he lay down beside her.
Nick held out his hand, the foil packet between his thumb and forefinger.
Mary grabbed it and ripped it open with her teeth.
A smile spread across Nick’s lips. “Anxious?”
“Shut up.” Back on her knees beside him, she ran her hands over his chest, down his rock-hard abdomen and lower, until she clasped that needy part of him in her hands. She loved the velvety smooth hardness between her fingers. She stroked him, marveling at how big and straight he was.
Nick’s hands caressed the insides of her thighs, his index finger delving between her folds, stroking her until an electric jolt of energy speared through her loins.
She couldn’t take much more before she shot over the edge and came undone. Mary slipped the condom over him and straddled his waist, poised over him. “Nick.” Her legs spread wider, lowering her down until he entered her.
“Yes?” He grabbed her hips and stared up into her eyes, his own deep pools of ink. He pushed upward, entering her slowly.
Mary gasped. “This doesn’t change anything with us, does it?”
Still partially embedded, he paused, his eyes widening, then narrowing. Then he flipped her over onto her back.
The movement was so sudden, Mary squealed.
“My sweet Mary.” He smoothed the hair from her face and touched his lips to hers. Then he settled between her legs, pressing deep, filling her to full. “This changes everything.”