Special Investigations Agency: Primordial

by Denise A. Agnew

  Part of her believed Haan’s act, but the other part couldn’t be sure. A ruthless man like this wouldn’t be afraid of anything but failure, would he?

  Haan made another soft, sarcastic laugh. “That’s why I wouldn’t go into the jungle to help find you, my dear. I’m afraid I have a bit of a phobia about it now.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she said, injecting as much womanly softness into the tone as she could.

  For a while the conversation turned to more mundane and less threatening items as Haan told them more about his fashion designing.

  Before she thought she’d go nuts from hearing about bone-thin models, Haan said to Zane, “I have a few pieces in my basement that I think you might wish to see.”

  Zane slipped his hand behind her neck and caressed, a steady, gentle pressure, which caused tingles to run over her skin. “Pieces for sale, I hope?”

  Haan laughed. “Exactly. Perhaps you’ll make it to the basement yet tonight. I am going out for a time this evening and won’t be back until late or maybe even early morning, so of course you have the entire run of the house, as promised. Perhaps your lady will find something she likes there as well.”

  Father Trujillo’s dark eyes snapped with annoyance, as if he found the innuendos disturbing.

  “Then we’d better get it on,” Zane said, his touch drifting from her neck down her arm all the way to her hand. “Come on darling. Let’s start with the library.”

  She felt the other men watching them as they left, and while she was relieved to get away from Haan and the playacting, she knew what came next would change her world in more ways than one.

  * * * * *

  Zane locked the library door, and the click signaled a moment of truth for Keira. Deep in her bones she knew what happened in this room tonight would change her life forever. Uncertainty and anticipation made her blood heat with illicit excitement and steady trepidation. Her fingers tightened on the small bouquet of roses. She glanced around the room and breathed in the scent of leather. The entire room spelled masculinity with its moody burgundy and green colors. Dark brown, supple-looking leather couches and chairs dominated the room. Floor to ceiling bookshelves covered the walls. A sliding ladder gave access to the highest shelves. A huge fireplace commandeered one side of the room, while at the opposite large French doors led out onto a patio with chairs and tables fenced off from the jungle. Zane flipped one light switch and three lamps came on at once, giving the area a soft glow. He moved across the room and closed the heavy curtains to remaining daylight and the storm.

  Plied with a glass of champagne and the heady day she’d experienced, she should have been past excitement, beyond desire. Instead, when Zane turned away from the curtains and looked at her, her breath seized up. Suddenly her legs weren’t so steady. With his head tilted to his left a little and his arms crossed, his pose resembled a man curious about what she thought and determined to discover what she hid under those layers one by one.

  God, he’s too sexy. Too masculine.

  She had to say something before she went nuts. “What now?”

  He put his finger to his lips and shook his head. He reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet. He produced the listening device card and traveled from corner to corner.

  A few minutes later he put the card back in his wallet. “No listening devices.”

  “What about cameras?”

  He grinned. “I’ll just have a look around and see if I can find any.”

  Uncertain, she stood there like a stork while he cruised over the room once again. Several moments later he said, “I don’t see any cameras.”

  Puzzled, she frowned. “But can’t they make cameras look like just about anything?”

  He smiled again. “Yeah, but I’m trained to know what every type of camera can and does look like. There’s nothing in here. Take my word for it.”

  Some of the tension eased off. “Good news. Where do we start looking for La Pasion?”

  “Anywhere and everywhere. The museum didn’t have any pictures of it, if you can believe that.”

  “How long do we have to search before Haan becomes suspicious? He expects us to…uh…try several rooms tonight, right?”

  Zane smiled a little. “Yeah, that’s right. But who knows. We might find this room has interesting possibilities on its own.”

  Her face heated and she took a deep breath. “We’ll have to look behind each book, won’t we?”

  “Yep. I’ll pop the champagne.” He went for the bottle nestled in a champagne bucket on the coffee table in front of the fireplace. “We’ll be thirsty by the time we’re finished exploring.”

  Why does everything that comes out of his mouth tonight sound seductive and laced with double entendres? Is he doing it on purpose?

  “How big are these statues supposed to be? How do we know what we’re looking for?”

  “I was told we’d know it when we see it.”

  “Oh, that’s great. Nice and vague.”

  “Let’s put it this way. It’s bigger than a breadbox.”

  “How could it be behind a book then?”

  “It might not be. On the other hand, if the shelves are deep and the books are only sitting at the front of the shelf…” He trailed off and shrugged. “Don’t climb up on that ladder, especially not in those shoes.”

  The champagne popped without throwing fizz all over him.

  She drew out one book and looked behind it. “I’ll let you do the top shelves, Mr. Macho.”

  He grunted. She heard him pouring the champagne, but ignored the temptation to stop and further celebrate their marriage with a toast. After a short interlude he started working on the top shelves, going through them with steady and unremitting pace. After more than an hour of searching they’d looked behind most of the books and found nothing.

  “Shit,” he muttered under his breath as he climbed back down the ladder.

  “This calls for a break.” She headed for the crystal flutes he’d already filled with bubbly. She picked up one flute and handed him the other. “It would be pretty unusual if we found it right away, don’t you think? Wouldn’t Haan be a little cleverer?”

  “Maybe.” Over the rim of the glass, his gaze met hers. A question resided there and he asked it. “There’s something that’s bugging me. I’ve got to know the truth.”

  She took another sip of champagne, then put the glass down on a side table near the leather couch. “Such as?”

  “Actually there are several somethings bothering me.”

  She smiled. “Okay, then start with the first one.”

  “When you put on that ring yesterday and wandered into the jungle, did you really not remember anything until you arrived at that clearing?”

  A little stunned by the unexpected topic, she strolled away from him to lean against the one wall that didn’t have anything against it. She felt safer with her back to the wall.

  “Yes. Why are you asking that now?”

  “You still say you didn’t know Haan before you came to Puerto Azul and your grandfather had nothing to do with La Pasion or any other artifacts being stolen?”

  She leaned her head back against the wall. “That’s right.”

  When he headed her way she almost left her position. She could run away now, away from the interrogation he seemed intent on inflicting. Instead she stayed, eager to explore whatever might occur next.

  “I don’t believe you,” he said.

  She wanted to growl as her temper flared. “Well, what if I told you I don’t give a crap anymore about whether you believe me?” A trembling started in her stomach as he walked toward her. “I have nothing to confess.”

  “Oh, I think you’ve got plenty to confess, and you’re going to tell me everything before the night is over.”

  She could escape, run from the room. Her feet stayed rooted to the floor. “Damn it, Zane, we should be looking for La Pasion, not bickering again.”

  As the wall held her up, he moved in. She s
aw darkness in his eyes, and a determination to excavate the truth. This agent went after life with both barrels blazing and damn anything venturing into his way.

  Butterflies danced and dipped in her stomach and heat flushed her body. Whether she liked it or not, this man turned her on. As his big body moved toward she stared in stunned fascination at his male beauty. She wanted to meet him halfway across the room, but she couldn’t move. She craved his touch, the continuing closeness they’d feigned in the ceremony. Playacting wore at her defenses, a pickax chipping down the outer layer.

  Less than six inches separated them. His hot gaze flamed and sparks of desire filled her lower stomach.

  “You will tell me,” he said. “Or there will be drastic consequences.”

  “Such as?”

  “When I get you down in that basement I’ll use a little bondage.”

  Her breath sucked in. “You would never.”

  “Wanna bet? Try me.”

  She almost sneered at him for his insolence, for the blatant challenge. Instead she continued. “Are you this way with all the women you know?”

  “I’ve never been like this with another woman.” His voice dropped. “You do things to me I’ve never felt before and it’s driving me nuts. It’s making me question everything, every move I make. I haven’t been acting like a professional since I met you, and I know it. What I feel between us is overpowering, Keira.”

  His voice, warm and gentle, rough and masculine, made her name sound like a mantra. She wanted to hear more. Her heart started to pound and her breathing accelerated.

  “I could get in the shower twice a day and jack off to relieve the tension,” he said.

  A tiny thrill of female power coiled tight in her lower belly like electricity. She’d never thought in a million years that arguing with a man would arouse her, but apparently with this man, it did. His stunning confessions fueled the pressure inside her, daring her to move nearer the border, to step over the line he’d drawn.

  “Have you? I mean, jacked off since we’ve met?” She couldn’t believe she asked it, but the words tumbled from her mouth.

  Instead of laughing, his eyes burned. “Yeah. And all the time I was wishing your mouth was around my cock just like it was in the jungle.” He allowed his gaze to coast down to her waist, to brush with total and complete brazenness over the front of her dress until his attention riveted on her pussy. “I want to be wrapped in your sweet grip again.”

  Sweet grip. He could mean her hands, he could mean her mouth, but she knew deep inside he meant the folds between her legs.

  Half crazed from his intoxicating nearness, she said in last defense from the onrush of desire, “I’m here to help you find La Pasion, that’s all.”

  His beautifully carved mouth caught her attention. A tight hard line held his lips immobile. His arms came down on either side of her, his body almost touching hers…almost.

  “Tell me what you were doing in Egypt,” he asked.

  Energized in a strange way she couldn’t understand, she defied him. “Nothing that is any of your business.”

  The temperature in his eyes said either she’d pissed him off, or his passions grew higher. “All right. What about those two items mentioned during the dinner? The puma-shaped burner?”

  “It was similar to one I saw at the museum in London, but I can’t be certain. I’m not the curator or the registrar.”

  “The Cibcha mask. What about that one?”

  She nodded. “Yes. I recognize it. Unless it’s a forgery or a copy—”

  “Both of those items were stolen from the museum. I’ve got a list a mile long in my head of all the things that Haan pinched from Chesterham Museum.”

  She signed. “So why didn’t you or Mac Tudor tell me this? Clue me in?” When he didn’t say anything, staring at her with that inscrutable intensity, she understood. “Oh, I see. You wanted to see my reaction to the artifacts. See if I gave away my grandfather’s guilt or my guilt.”

  He nodded. “Something like that.”

  “Well, other than thinking I recognized the items, I don’t know diddly beyond that.”

  While trust didn’t grow in his eyes, she did see his interest in her as a woman refusing to diminish. She’d had enough teasing. Enough waiting. Giving praise where praise was due had always been her motto, and she had a lot to thank this man for, despite wanting to tell him to turn down the high-pressure sexual vibes.

  She reached up and laid her palm over his lapel, smoothing a nonexistent wrinkle. “Thank you.”

  Looking puzzled at her change in topic, he asked, “For what?”

  “For saving my life in Egypt and in the jungle.”

  He nodded but said nothing, his gaze caressing her face.

  She continued, leaving her hand on his lapel. “Give me the benefit of the doubt, Zane.”

  “No.”

  Bitter disappointment welled inside her.

  An unexpected grin broke through his grimness. “Even though I know you’re hiding something from me, I think I could trust you with my life, too. If it came to that.”

  A smidgen of her perturbation eroded. Her heart pinched with unpleasant fear at the thought of him in more danger. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.” His nearness drove her to within an inch of meltdown, and she shifted against his body. Words came from her she hadn’t planned to say. “Ever since I met you, I’ve been in this situation. You pursue me like an animal, pressing against me, moving closer.”

  He didn’t bat an eye, his tough-and-tender mouth quirking in a new smile. This time the smile held male cunning. “Because since I met you, you’ve been on my mind day and night. Because you’re making me crazy. When I saw you walking down that aisle today, I’d never seen anything so beautiful in my life.” He took one hand away from the wall and skimmed his index finger down along the bodice of her low-cut top. “Or more deadly.”

  Tired of playing around, she grabbed the hand caressing her skin and held him still. “Me deadly? How?”

  Rough with confusion and desire, his voice went deeper. “Because I told you and I told myself we couldn’t do this…whatever this is between us. But my body doesn’t seem to give a fuck. Every time you’re near me I can’t stop wanting to touch you.”

  Gratification flowed into her at his declaration. Surprised he’d admit his desire, she released her grip on his fingers. His hand returned to the wall beside her, caging Keira where he wanted. He shifted until they touched, and trapped between the wall and his body, she found no escape from the wild need assaulting her.

  Uncertain but compelled, she touched his cheek, sliding her fingers over the strong cut of his jaw. “When you sang those songs in the elevator to me, what were you trying to do? Seduce me?”

  A small smile flirted with his perfect mouth. “I was trying to throw you a curve ball. I was so damned attracted to you that I couldn’t help flirting. Did it work?”

  She pushed her fingers into his hair and enjoyed the thick, silken strands as they brushed against her palm. “Yes. And that last song in the shower today before the wedding?”

  He frowned and dipped his head a little. He closed his eyes and a muscle in his jaw worked hard. Maybe she could ply another truth out of this hard-as-nails agent.

  “Zane?” She moved her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck. “It wasn’t the same type of song. It meant more.”

  His nostrils flared and he swallowed hard.

  She must say it because she couldn’t stand it any longer. The torture act, the not knowing how he felt drove her bananas.

  “Okay, I tell you what I think it meant. You were singing about the way you want me. I think you care about me, Zane Spinella, whether you want to admit it or not. Your feelings are confusing you, just the way my feelings are confusing me.”

  “You’re right damn.” His voice came out a bit guttural. “I do care about you. A hell of a lot more than I should.”

  Nowhere to go and nothing to hide any longer, s
he touched his powerful chest again. Her voice, when it came, trembled a little. “What do you want from me?”

  Smoldering with turbulent emotion, his gaze told her she’d pushed him as far as she could. “This. Just this.”

  His mouth covered hers.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Exquisitely gentle, Zane’s kiss coaxed her yearning in a way Keira didn’t expect. God, this man must be determined to draw her on the rack, screaming for mercy, begging for a vanquishing touch, a hard thrust to put her out of perpetual misery.

  She wanted that hard, sexual frenzy they’d experienced the other night in the tent. She wanted him hard and deep and fast. Fucking her into the next century.

  Then she didn’t have to imagine any longer.

  His arms slipped around her back and waist, drawing her tight against his solid body and the undeniable erection pressed to her belly. Oh yes. He was hard all right—harder than before and ready for action.

  Pounding desire hit Keira, and she didn’t wait for him to ease her into a kiss. She devoured his mouth, her tongue gliding over his lips. Hungry and powerful, his response molded and shaped, taking with voracious appetite. Who needed to be eased into the ecstasy when it demanded, on both sides, to explode? They’d danced for too long, held out for too much. Their night in the jungle barely took the edge off. All they needed was here, now, and the dance their bodies wanted more than anything on earth.

  His tongue met hers, allowing her to plunge into his mouth and explore, a bold invader. He caressed, lingering over her back with searching touches, then coasting down to cup her ass, then back up again. His hot skin against her bare shoulders and back corkscrewed her out of control. Zane broke away and looked deep into her eyes, then his hips pressed solid granite cock against her belly.

  “Keira,” he rasped, a worshipful expression in his gaze that sent rocket fuel straight to her belly. “You are so hot.”

  Stunned, because no man had called her hot before, she stuttered. “No…I…”

  His intense gaze softened as he pressed a kiss to her nose, then her lips. “God, yes. All hot and ready to make love.”