Kitabı oku: «The Complete Series», sayfa 19

6

RORY WAS OUT OF BREATH by the time she reached to open the gate to the pool. The dogs pushed through it, jumped at her, licked her face, and finally sent her tumbling into one of the lounge chairs. Laughing, she patted one head then the other. “Down,” she ordered, then watched in amazement as they settled, tongues hanging out, one on each side of her chair.

“How do you like your coffee, miss?”

She glanced up from the dogs to see an older, distinguished-looking man in navy blue shorts and a crisp white short-sleeved shirt set a tray on the table next to her chair.

“Black, thank you,” she said. “I’m sorry for the trouble. I told him that I really didn’t need anything. Oh, my…cookies.” She beamed a smile at him as she reached for one and took a bite. “You’ve saved my life. Food always settles my nerves. Plus, chewing makes me think, and I left my bubble gum in the car.” She took another cookie. “These are delicious, Mr….”

“You can call me McGee. And the cookies are no trouble. Mr. Lucas likes to know that his guests are well cared for.”

“You shouldn’t have brought so many. I’ll probably eat them all.”

When he handed her a mug of coffee, Rory took a sip and then closed her eyes and sighed. “Perfect. This is French-pressed, isn’t it?”

“Indeed.” McGee smiled at her. “You have a discerning taste. Mr. Lucas prefers French-pressed coffee.”

Rory smiled at the man over the rim of her mug. “I do, too. Could you pour yourself a mug and join me? Is that allowed?”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “Strictly speaking, no. But it’s kind of you to ask.”

“What about the coffee beans? You must grind them yourself?”

“Yes, miss. The beans are grown in Kenya. Mr. Lucas has them flown in.”

She nodded. “Heavenly. And please call me Rory. Can you at least sit?”

When he did, she took another cookie. “You’ve been with Mr. Wainwright for a time?”

“Ever since he came back to take over the company. My son, Tim, works in the stables. If you want to ride, let him pick your mount. He’s a good judge.”

“Thanks. I won’t be staying long.” She took another sip of the coffee. “Mr. Lucas’s guest—do you happen to know his name?”

“Mark Hunter,” said a voice that she recognized. Turning, she watched him enter through the gate and approach her in that long-legged Terminator stride.

“Will that be all, miss?” McGee asked as he rose.

“Yes. Thank you,” she replied as nerves sprung to life again and twisted into a knot in her stomach. Mark Hunter. The last name suited him, she thought. Hadn’t she seen the hunter in him from the first? He had that look about him now as he sat down on the foot of the lounge adjacent to hers.

He was prepared, his quarry in sight. And she’d spent the time playing with the dogs and talking to Lucas Wainwright’s butler. She could have kicked herself. As usual, she was going to have to develop a plan by the seat of her pants. Once McGee had let himself out the gate, she reached for another cookie. “These are delicious.”

Mark Hunter filled a mug from the carafe. “You eat when you’re nervous, don’t you?”

“What makes you think I’m nervous?” she asked around a mouthful of chocolate crumbs.

He took her hand as she reached for another cookie. “Because your hand is trembling.”

“Did you talk to Jared Slade?” she said quickly, changing the subject.

He met her eyes. “Yes. He won’t agree to an interview.”

She straightened, swinging her legs off the side of the lounge so that her knees brushed briefly against his. “Mr. Hunter, there’s got to be some arrangement we can make.”

“You can call me Hunter. That’s what my associates call me.”

“Hunter, then. Mr. Slade doesn’t have to see me or even talk to me. I could give you some questions to ask him. You could tell me the answers.”

Hunter shook his head. “He hates the press. He’s not going to change his mind.”

Her eyes narrowed suddenly. “You knew that from the beginning. You conned me out of those pictures, knowing that I’d never get an interview. I could have published them. I should have turned them over to my boss. But I stalled her.”

He studied her as she spoke, watching temper darken her eyes and emanate from her in little sparks he could almost feel on his skin. Here was the passion that he’d only begun to explore in that dressing room. He wanted to taste it again. He wanted to push it, push her until she exploded in his arms.

Rising, she paced away toward the pool. He rose and moved toward her.

“I never should have given you those pictures.” When she whirled back to face him, she walked smack into him, then took a quick step back. He grabbed her arms to keep her from falling into the water. It might have worked if those excitable dogs hadn’t gotten involved. Two strong paws hit him right in the small of his back. He stumbled forward, then twisted and took her with him as he fell back-first into the pool.

When they came up for air, she was sputtering and coughing. Then to his surprise and delight she began to laugh.

Treading water, he stared at her. Any other woman would have been angry. Her eyes were light now, liquid gold with darker flecks. And with her hair plastered to her head, she looked like some kind of water sprite. And that mouth. He had to taste it again. Soon.

But first they had business to settle between them. He moved toward her and urged her to the side of the pool where the dogs were barking and hoping for more horseplay.

“Down,” he said, and they moved back to settle themselves on either side of a lounge chair.

He returned his gaze to Rory. The depth was shallow enough that he could stand, but he noted that she secured herself by placing a hand on the ledge that ran around the side of the pool. Her legs tangled with his before she pulled hers back.

“I’m still angry with you,” she said.

“But not for pushing you into the pool.”

Her brows shot up. “You didn’t. The dogs did.” She leveled her gaze on him. “I try to be a fair person. But you weren’t fair with me.”

“Strong words,” he murmured.

“If the shoe fits…”

He raised a hand, palm out. “Okay. You’re right. I did know from the beginning that Jared Slade was not going to give you that interview.”

“So, you negotiated a kiss on a lie.”

“Okay. But maybe you dazzled me so much that I shouldn’t be held responsible for that.”

She snorted. “Yeah. Right. I go through life dazzling men. Wherever I go, they fall at my feet.”

He studied her for a moment. Was it possible that she didn’t know how attractive she was? That might explain the innocence he kept sensing in her. Hunter ran a finger down her cheek to her throat and felt her pulse scramble. “Before I become dazzled again, I have a compromise I want to offer you.” He traced his finger along her collarbone, and then he saw it—the thin red strap. His mouth went dry, and the water surrounding them in the pool suddenly seemed warmer.

“Compromise?” she asked.

He dragged his thoughts back from the red bra and the red… “Yes.” He swallowed hard as he forced himself to meet her eyes. Every time he got this close to her, she sent every rational thought he had flying away.

Yet she didn’t think that she had any power over men.

He’d come out here with a plan, a strategy all worked out. And he simply didn’t care about it anymore. Hunter held her gaze. “Are you wearing the thong?”

Her eyes darkened from amber to dark, rich cognac in a heartbeat. “Yes.”

“Show me,” he said as he backed a few steps away. Then he watched as she dropped her hand from the edge of the pool and tugged the snap of her jeans open. Impeded by the wetness of the fabric and the water, she had to tug and wiggle, then tug and wiggle some more as she slid the jeans down those slender, strong legs and kicked them off. It seemed to take forever, and the water surrounding them grew steadily hotter and hotter until the sun beating down on his shoulders felt cool in comparison.

Still, he didn’t rush as he moved his gaze slowly up her legs to where the little triangle of red lace beckoned to him. His hand felt heavy as he moved it to her and traced the lace edge with one finger. She was wearing a silver bar in her navel, and when he touched it, desire curled within him, tangling with an ache that was unexpected and raw.

More than anything, he wanted to push that sheer red fabric aside and watch what happened to her eyes when he slid into her heat. He let his gaze move higher up that slim waist to linger on her breasts. The nipples were hard and he could see them through the wet fabric. He was going to touch them, too.

His original plan had been to wait—to give her part of the interview, wine and dine her…then succumb to his need for her. But he’d never been pulled so strongly by a woman before. And he’d waited long enough.

Meeting her eyes, he said, “I want to kiss you again. And I want to make love to you. If you have a problem with that, now would be a good time to say so.”

She met his gaze steadily, keeping her head above water by merely kicking her feet. It was happening again—just as it had in the dressing room. He wanted her. She could read the desire in his eyes, feel it in the heat of his body.

She’d come here for this as much as for the interview, and there wasn’t a chance for her to fall back into the old indecisive Rory when he looked at her the way he was right now. But there was one thing she had to clear up first.

“I’m not going to kiss you again for an interview or a compromise. Let’s just get that straight. This time I’m going to kiss you because I want to.”

Hunter nodded. “Agreed. Now, take off your shirt.”

The ache inside of her only twisted tighter as she did what he asked, bobbing gently in the water as she struggled to get the damp T-shirt over her head. Then she was naked except for the red lace.

“We shouldn’t do this here.” His voice was hoarse as he closed the small distance between them.

“No. I should be asking you about the compromise. But I can’t seem to keep my mind on task when I’m with you.” She looped her arms around his neck and brushed her legs up against his.

With a groan, Hunter trapped one of her legs between his. “We’ll get to the compromise. Later.” He wasn’t sure whether it was her words or the way she looked in the water—part sex goddess, part mermaid, but he felt the same urgency that he’d felt in the lingerie shop. All that mattered was having her. Now.

“Hurry.”

Hearing her say that one breathless word had an arrow of heat shooting through him. His head was spinning. The restless, wanton movements of her body against his had him swaying. To steady himself, to steady both of them, he pushed forward until her back was against the side of the pool.

“Kiss me.”

He wasn’t sure who’d spoken the words or if he’d just thought them, but he took her mouth with his.

OH, YES, RORY THOUGHT as his flavor exploded on her tongue and poured into her. Yes, yes, yes, yes. Her mind took up the chant as his tongue moved in a slow, steady rhythm over hers, and his hand stroked down her body possessively. His flavor was just as she remembered—dark and rich like some exotic kind of chocolate. Forbidden and addictive.

Her breath caught in her throat and her body arched toward his as his fingers began to toy with the waistband of her thong. Her skin trembled and arrows of heat shot through her as they moved along her waist to her back. But he didn’t linger. Instead, he moved his hands, those long fingers, those wide palms, to caress her buttocks. She felt each individual finger burn into her skin like a brand before the pressure increased and they drew her cheeks apart.

Pleasure and anticipation streaked through her, and heat built in her center. Then he began to trace the thong along her bottom, spreading her cheeks even farther to give his fingers more access until he was pressing them just where she wanted.

“Harder,” she whimpered as she arched and wiggled herself against them. “Please.”

He lifted her then and she wrapped her legs around him, pressing herself against the hard length of him.

She moaned when he slowly retraced the path his fingers had just taken along the lace strap of the thong between her cheeks.

Tightening her legs around him, she said, “I want you inside of me, now.”

He had no choice. After shoving his sweats down, Hunter found her opening and pressed himself against it. Then he pushed himself into her and felt her heat grip him tightly. After withdrawing a little, he drove in even farther.

“Yes,” she whimpered against his ear.

He withdrew and thrust in even deeper. Just this one more time. Hadn’t he told himself that if he could have her this way again, that would be enough? But as her heat burned him, and her muscles fastened around him like a clamp, he wasn’t sure that his hunger for her would ever be sated.

He withdrew and thrust in again, this time to the hilt.

“More.”

Every muscle in his body sang with the need to obey her command, but he was aware that the lawn mower that he’d heard earlier had moved closer. Above the hedge that bordered the pool, he could see the straw hat of the driver. This time when he withdrew, she clamped her legs around him tightly.

“Don’t you dare stop.”

He leaned closer and whispered, “Shh. We’re not alone.” Though he was confident that the man on the mower wouldn’t be able to hear them, he couldn’t be sure that the man wouldn’t glance over the hedge and see them.

“I can’t wait.”

Even though he was gripping her hips firmly, she managed to thrust herself against him. Suddenly, he couldn’t wait, either. Very slowly, he withdrew and then pushed into her again. When she stiffened and murmured his name, he heard something inside of him snap just as clearly as he heard the sound of the lawn mower fade.

He slapped his hands against the tiles and then thrust into her again—faster, harder, again and again. Each time he pushed into her, she seemed to grow hotter, and her grip on him—inside and out—tightened.

No, this was not going to be enough. He would need this again and again. Even as the realization poured through him, he felt the water around him churning, heard little waves slapping against the sides of the pool. She was moving with him, thrust for thrust. Just as the heat became searing, unbearable, he felt her stiffen. Then he surrendered to her climax and to his.

RORY WAS AWARE that on some level, her body had gone as limp as her mind. If Hunter’s body hadn’t been pressing hers so firmly against the wall of the pool, she would have slid right down to the bottom and drowned. She could still feel him embedded inside of her, and though she wouldn’t have thought it possible, the knowledge, the pressure had something inside of her warming again. She drew in a breath, and when her lungs burned, she wondered just how long her body had been without oxygen.

“Are you okay?”

She managed a weak nod. “But I can’t move yet.”

She felt his lips curve against her shoulder. “I’m having a bit of a problem with that myself.”

When she felt him pull out of her, she nearly cried out in protest. She might have tightened her legs to keep him there, but they still felt like soft, runny butter. A minute later, she found herself sitting beside him on the steps leading out of the pool.

“Wow,” she said, snuggling her head against his shoulder because she simply didn’t have the strength to hold it upright.

“Ditto.”

“Next time, I vote we do this on dry land.”

“I can vote for that, too,” he said. “And to hurry that process along, why don’t I get you a towel?”

For a moment after he pulled away, Rory felt cold and a bit bereft. The ringing of a phone caught him halfway to the pool house, and he strode quickly back to the table near the lounge chairs to pick up the extension.

“Yeah?”

She saw the frown come to his face a second before she swept her gaze down the length of him. The wet sweats were clinging to his body, revealing every hard angle and plane. And he was still wearing his running shoes. A short distance away, her sneakers lay on the bottom of the pool, peeking out from beneath her jeans. He was still fully clothed and she was wearing only a red bra and thong.

And she’d just been ravished at the side of a pool. Well, not ravished really. Technically, to be truly ravished, she suspected that the ravishee had to put up at least a token resistance.

She hadn’t. The only thing she’d done was make it very clear that making love with him was not going to be some quid pro quo thing. What they’d just done had nothing to do with the interview. Leaning back against her hands, she extended her legs and examined her body. Was it the red thong that was giving her the confidence to do things she’d never done before?

Her gaze returned to Hunter. Or was it the man who’d made her feel so daring? Slowly a smile curved her lips as she thought of the way Sierra would answer that question. The only way to find out would be to do some further research.

“LOOKS LIKE YOU WERE right,” Tracker said on the other end of the line.

“About what?” Hunter asked.

“About Rory Gibbs. I stopped by her apartment on a hunch.”

“A hunch?” Hunter shifted his gaze to Rory.

“I’ve been known to have them. Perhaps it was your characterization of her as a pawn. But it occurred to me that if she was stumbling into information that you didn’t particularly want her to have, someone else might not want her to have it, either. Anyway, her place just happened to be on my route from the airport to the Wainwright offices.”

“And you knew the address because…?”

“Hey, I’m a top-notch security expert. We know these things—or can find out.”

As Tracker continued to talk, Hunter’s eyes narrowed. Rory shivered a little as she drew up her knees and wrapped her arms around them. She was cold, and he’d promised her a towel.

“Hunter, are you still there?”

He dragged his thoughts back. “What?”

“The door of her apartment had been forced, and the place had been trashed. I suppose it could be a random break-in.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Neither do I. That means that someone was probably watching her place. And they were looking for something.”

“What?”

“Answer that and you, too, can become a security specialist. You can pass along any theories you have when I get there in an hour or so.”

Hunter lowered his voice. “I think we should keep this under wraps for now. She might want to leave—and for the time being she’s safer here.”

“I can’t argue with the logic of that.”

Hunter kept his eyes on Rory as he hung up the phone. How much danger was she in?