Forbidden

by Suzanne Brockmann

  She slipped her hands underneath his shirt, and the sensation of her fingers against his skin was beyond description. With one swift pull he yanked his T-shirt over his head and tossed it onto the floor. She ran her hands across his back, sighing as if she got pleasure simply from touching him. She did. He could see it echoed in her eyes. She ran her fingers across his chest and down his shoulders and arms, smiling slightly as she met his eyes.

  He tugged at her shirt, and she helped him pull it over her head. She was wearing that same nearly transparent black bra, and he allowed himself to look at her in the candlelight, lightly tracing the lace edging with one finger.

  She was still watching him, and he looked into her eyes, silently asking permission to touch her. She smiled again, and opened the front clasp of her bra. Permission granted.

  And then he couldn’t keep from touching her, from cupping the exquisite softness of her breasts in his hand, from burying his face in her, from kissing, tasting, inhaling her.

  Her legs tightened around his, her hips shifting to press against his and he was instantly, totally, frantically on fire.

  He could feel her hands reaching for the buckle of his belt, and his heartbeat nearly tripled in time. He’d never wanted a woman like this before. He never knew these feelings were possible. He’d never had a dream of his own be so close to coming true.

  He forced himself to slow down. He was bigger than Kayla, stronger. God knows he wanted her, but he didn’t want to hurt her. Or scare her.

  He had to take it slow. He had to make sure she knew she was in charge, that she could stop him from going any further at any given moment.

  He rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him, giving her control. She sat up, straddling him, gazing down at him as she unfastened the top button of his jeans.

  Somehow she’d taken off her shorts, and she was now wearing only a pair of black panties as she worked on unfastening his zipper. She smiled, almost shyly, and the effect was mind-blowing. Her body was sheer perfection. She was beautiful, and she was giving herself to him.

  She finally wrestled his zipper down and he cried out with pleasure at the exquisite touch of her hand. But he wanted more.

  He couldn’t keep from taking hold of her knees and pulling her forward until they fit together perfectly, with only his shorts and her panties as a barrier between them.

  She looked down at him and smiled again and he knew that tonight he was going somewhere he’d never been before. Tonight his heart was involved.

  And then, Lord, he wanted those clothes that were still between them gone. And she did too. She pulled back, off him, dragging his jeans down his legs, pulling his boots from his feet. He kicked himself free of his shorts, then reached for her, pulling her panties down the satiny smoothness of her thighs.

  He had no protection. That knowledge damn near stopped him cold, but Kayla was there, reading his mind as clearly as if he’d spoken aloud. “In my bag,” she said, pointing to the top of the desk where she’d left it earlier that evening.

  He moved quickly across the room. Instead of searching through her fanny pack, he tossed it into her outstretched hands. She quickly found what she was looking for and held it out for him.

  She sat on the bed, legs folded underneath her, watching him as he covered himself. The unabashed heat in her eyes was enough nearly to scald him as her gaze traveled down his body, taking in every little last detail of his nakedness.

  Cal felt his heart kick further into overdrive. He was well aware that some women found him attractive. He’d seen desire and admiration in women’s eyes before, but it had never affected him quite like this. He liked knowing that Kayla wanted him. It was a powerful feeling. A good feeling. He just wished he could measure whether or not she loved him as well by looking into her eyes.

  He supposed he could tell her how he felt, gauge her reaction.

  Or he could show her. That would be far easier—with far less risk involved.

  She reached for him and he went into her arms, falling back with her on the bed. And then he could think of nothing but loving her, completely, totally.

  He was lost in her kisses, lost in the silky smoothness of her skin, lost in the bottomless depths of her eyes, in the softness of her breasts, in the sweet curve of her smile.

  She reached between them, encircling his arousal with her hands and smiling at the eruption of heat that had surely exploded from his eyes. He explored with his own hands as well, and nearly laughed aloud at her sudden intake of breath, at the way her body responded instantly to his touch.

  Kayla was more than ready for him, sweetly slick with heat and need. She lifted her hips as if to meet him halfway, but he pulled back. This wasn’t the way he’d wanted the first time to be. He wanted her to feel unconditionally and undisputedly in control as they made love. He wanted her on top, orchestrating each movement and determining every intimacy of their joining.

  He wanted to look into her eyes and see no hesitation, not even a minuscule flicker of uncertainty or fear.

  Again he rolled onto his back. She followed, as he’d hoped she would. The softness of her stomach was pressed against his arousal, her breasts against his chest as she kissed him. He ached to be inside her, but this had to be her show. She kissed his face, his chin, his neck, up to his ear, and then she whispered, “You’re making sure I don’t feel at all threatened.”

  “I’m trying, darlin’. Tell me what else I can do to help you.”

  She pulled back slightly to gaze down into his eyes, and Cal saw that her own eyes were filled with tears and something else—something warm and soft and impossibly tender.

  Her voice caught slightly as she continued. “You know, if you’re not careful, I could fall for you in a very big way.”

  His own voice suddenly barely worked. “Please do.”

  She shifted her hips and Cal caught his breath, feeling her softness and heat as she guided him into position beneath her. One upward thrust of his hips would bring him paradise, but he didn’t move. He could feel beads of sweat forming on his upper lip and forehead, but still he didn’t move. He just looked up into Kayla’s green eyes and waited for her.

  A small smile curved the corners of her mouth. “Of course you realize you’ve given me the power to totally torment you?”

  Cal smiled back at her. If this was torment, it was the sweetest he’d ever known. She probably didn’t realize that he would have waited for her for an eternity. A few minutes of teasing wouldn’t make a speck of difference when compared to that.

  He lightly ran his hands up the taut muscles of her inner thighs, holding her gaze. Her smile faded, and the fire in her eyes burned white hot as he touched her.

  Slowly, she lowered herself on top of him. Slowly, he pressed himself upward until he filled her completely. And still she gazed into his eyes, and he into hers.

  It was beyond good, beyond great, well past incredible, and it left amazing in the dust. It was a new experience and deserved a brand-new word, one that hadn’t been thought of yet.

  Cal felt himself smile, saw Kayla smile too. And he knew what it was he was feeling. There already was a word for it—and the word was a perfect one.

  That word was love.

  Kayla began to move slowly, excruciatingly, deliciously slowly. He matched her pace, pulling her down on top of him to kiss her—long, penetrating kisses that mimicked the movement of their bodies. He felt her melt in his arms, heard her soft moan of pleasure as he continued the steady rhythm she’d started.

  He couldn’t help himself, and he picked up the pace. But she welcomed it, moving even faster, gripping him tightly with her legs. She kissed him one last time, then pushed herself up. She was magnificent—head thrown back, candlelight reflecting off her perspiration-slickened body.

  Her breasts were peaked tightly with desire, and he reached for her, wanting to touch her, needing to touch her. She moaned and pressed herself more fully into his hand.

  And then, like the first
rumblings of an avalanche, he felt her shudder with the beginnings of her release. To his surprise and delight, she opened her eyes. Gazing directly at him, Kayla let go. And she swept him with her over the edge. He went with his eyes open too, burying himself in the sweetness of her body, and losing himself in the depths of her soul.

  It was beyond good, beyond great, and well past incredible.

  There was no doubt about it. It was love.

  13

  Kayla watched the flickering candlelight throw shadows around the room, listening to the slow and steady rhythm of Cal’s breathing.

  Making love to Cal Bartlett had been among the most powerful experiences of her entire life.

  He’d been so gentle, so kind, so careful with her. More so even than was necessary. Not that she’d particularly minded. In her narrow band of experience, she’d never had a lover who had, well…loved her so completely. With Cal, she had felt cherished. It was an experience she hoped she’d get a chance to repeat. Often.

  He shifted slightly, pulling her closer, her back against his front, murmuring something unintelligibly sleepy that ended with a wonderfully contented-sounding sigh as he cupped her breast with one work-roughened hand.

  For the first time in her entire life, Kayla was precisely where she wanted to be. Well, maybe she didn’t exactly want to be in San Salustiano, but she certainly wanted to be in this man’s bed, clasped in his powerful arms.

  She was where she wanted to be, but what about Cal? Would she forever remind him of Liam, thus bringing him more sorrow than joy? If so, she wouldn’t be able to stay with him, no matter how much she wanted to. God, wouldn’t that be the ultimate screw-up of her life? She’d finally found the one man she couldn’t live without, only to find that the mere sight of her would forever bring him pain. The irony was outrageous.

  But she was getting ahead of herself here. Before they could go their star-crossed, tragic, separate ways—if indeed that was what they were going to do—they first had to get safely out of San Salustiano.

  She turned to face Cal, intending to wake him. She could see the glowing numbers of his watch on the bedside table. It was nearly four o’clock. They’d planned to arrive at the airport at five, on standby for seats on a filled six A.M. flight. It was time to get up and moving.

  But Cal looked so peaceful in sleep, Kayla hesitated, watching him for a moment instead. His hair was tousled and his cheeks were dark and rough with the growth of his beard. He looked dangerously sexy, even with his flinty gray eyes closed.

  Kayla had to moisten her suddenly dry lips as she remembered how he’d held her gaze as she’d exploded with passion, as he’d sent her spiraling over the edge. She also couldn’t forget the way he’d let her hold him as he’d cried.

  She bent to wake him with a kiss, but paused, listening hard. She’d thought she’d heard…

  Tap, tap, scratch, tap.

  There it was again.

  She sat up, her sudden movement waking Cal, who was instantly alert.

  “What is it?” he whispered. The room was dim with only the light from that single candle. The radio was still on, softly hissing white noise. The station had long since gone off the air for the night.

  “Someone’s on the balcony,” she breathed.

  Tap, tap, scratch. It was a little louder this time.

  Cal slid out from under the sheet, reaching for his jeans. Kayla did the same, pulling on her shorts and shirt, taking no time to search for her underwear.

  Kayla flicked the light switch. Nothing. The power was still out.

  “Do you have the key to your room?” Cal asked almost silently.

  The key to her…? No. Wait, yes. It was in her purse. She quietly opened it and handed Cal the key to the room next door, questioning him with her eyes.

  “I’m going to go through your room and try to get behind whoever’s at that door,” he said.

  “You’re kidding!”

  “I’ll be all right. You just be ready to run if they get that door open, okay?”

  “No way am I going to retreat if you’re attacking from the rear,” she ordered fiercely. She pulled the lamp cord from the wall, holding the narrow part of the heavy ceramic base like a baseball bat. “Okay. Now I’m ready.”

  “Kayla…”

  “Go,” she whispered. “I’ll be right here.”

  He hesitated. “Maybe we should both just clear out. We could just leave. Right now.”

  “Maybe we should find out who the hell wants to break into your room at four o’clock in the morning—knowing that we’re in here, asleep.”

  Tap. Tap, tap.

  Cal turned to look at the curtained door.

  “Go,” she said again.

  He nodded. “All right, but you’re coming with me.”

  Kayla couldn’t argue with that.

  Together, they crept out into the hallway and Kayla watched as Cal quietly unlocked the door to her room. Soundlessly, he pushed it open and they moved stealthily inside.

  Following Cal’s lead, Kayla stood behind him, hardly breathing, barely even blinking. When he was convinced there was no one waiting in the room for them, he moved toward the open sliding door and the balcony, and again she followed.

  Kayla still clutched her lamp, but she felt far from prepared when she heard the soft murmur of voices on the balcony. Whoever they were, there were more than one of them. They were speaking in Spanish, but she couldn’t quite make out the words.

  Cal must have heard them too, and decided that he didn’t like the odds. He motioned for her to back up, to head toward the other door.

  And then the wind blew the curtain, and Kayla saw it. The dim moonlight glinted off an enormous and deadly looking automatic rifle one of the dark figures was holding at the ready in his arms.

  His arms?

  The curtain had moved back into place, and Kayla closed her eyes, trying to remember exactly what she had just seen.

  If that was a man, it was a very young man, hardly no more than a child…. Or a girl. It was a girl—the teenage girl they’d met the day before yesterday, in the mountains.

  Why was she trying to get into Cal’s room? Obviously not to kill them. She’d had plenty of opportunity to do that up in the jungle, where their bodies would have disappeared without a trace. And obviously, she wasn’t attempting a robbery. The balcony door to Kayla’s room had been left open, with her clothes and her suitcase right there for the taking. Her things had been moved around, probably searched, but nothing taken. The girl and her friends had been in there, looking for something. Something or someone they no doubt hoped to find in Cal’s room.

  Such as Cal and Kayla, perhaps?

  Kayla had to believe that they were members of the rebel army. And despite her youth, the girl was clearly in a position of command. Kayla had suspected this girl knew more about Liam than she’d let on. Maybe she had some information. Maybe she knew what had happened to Liam from the time of his abduction to the time of his death. Maybe she knew the location of his body.

  “There’s too many of them. I’ve counted at least four,” Cal breathed into her ear. “I need to get you out of here.”

  “But I want to find out what they want.”

  “They want more hostages.”

  She shook her head. The rebels—or whoever they were—could have taken them hostage two nights ago.

  “Kayla—”

  She knew he wasn’t going to be happy with her for doing this, but she had to know. Before he could stop her, she stepped around him, through the curtain, and onto the balcony.

  Cal was right behind her, but as three different muzzles of three different, very frightening-looking assault weapons were aimed directly at them, Kayla didn’t need to glance in his direction to know he was angry. He was angry, but she knew he would have followed her directly into hell if she’d led the way there.

  She may very well have just led the way there.

  The two men with guns, and the man still crouched by the sliding
door, trying to jimmy it open, all started talking at once. Kayla could pick out words and phrases she didn’t quite like the sound of—talk of killing them now, talk of hidden agendas and identities pertaining to her and Cal’s ability to materialize on the balcony the way they did. One of them actually thought this proved they were spies working for the Special Forces Police.

  “Silence,” the girl said brusquely and quite definitely. “Nobody’s killing anyone.”

  Kayla saw that they’d found the listening device underneath the wicker table. It had been removed and crushed, like a cockroach. She took advantage of the sudden silence to point at it and whisper, “There’s another in my room, but we have a radio in here”—she pointed at the sliding door to Cal’s room—“so we can talk inside without being overheard.”

  The girl gazed at her. “None of them are working. With the power out in the hotel, the transmitter is inoperable. We don’t need your radio on to talk.”

  “Are you sure, because…”

  “We are sure. We took out the power lines in order to talk to you without being detected.”

  “I assume that’s why you’re here,” Kayla said hopefully. “To talk?”

  “Got it.” The man forcing the lock triumphantly slid the door open.

  The girl didn’t answer Kayla. Instead, she gestured with her head to one of the other men, and he went inside first, gun held at the ready. He stuck his head through the curtain a moment later. “All clear.”

  At the girl’s obvious invitation with her weapon, Kayla went inside first. Cal was right behind her, and she risked a glance at him.

  One of the men had a flashlight, and Cal’s gaze was following the beam of light as it traveled around the room. The light lingered on the rumpled sheets of the unmade bed, on the brightly colored condom wrapper, torn in half and lying on the floor, on Kayla’s lacy underwear and his T-shirt, lying where they had fallen. The room seemed to echo with the heat and passion of their recent intimacy.