Morgan’s Mercenaries: Heart of the Jaguar

by Lindsay McKenna

  His mouth moved possessively and she responded just as hungrily and boldly to his dizzying assault. With him, she felt a primal wildness she’d never felt with any man. He brought out her earthiness, her need to be her untamed, untrammeled self. His hand slid behind her head, holding her, trapping her so he could taste her even more deeply. The sweet hotness and longing built between her thighs as she felt him grind his hips demandingly against hers. There was no mistaking his need of her. Ann felt urgency and frustration. Her fingers opened and closed spasmodically against his thickly corded neck. She couldn’t get enough of him and drowned in the splendor of his tender assault upon her.

  Ann wanted the hot, branding kiss, the sweet, unspoken promise between them to last forever. As Houston began to ease his mouth from hers, she cried out internally, not wanting to cease contact with him in any way. Yet she knew they must. She was sure they were making a spectacle of themselves in the corridor. People were staring at them but for once, Ann didn’t care. Mike had somehow dissolved all her fears, her need to be proper and prudish out in public. He tore away her doctor’s facade and stripped her naked, revealing her hot, womanly core of primitive needs and desires. As she looked dazedly up into his narrowed, gleaming eyes, she had never felt so protected or desired.

  His face was alive with feelings—for her. Ann saw it in his burning look, his mouth only inches from her own as he stood over her, his arm continuing to press her tightly against him. She tasted him on her lips. She felt the masculine hardness of him against her abdomen and her own heated response to his hunger. Never had Ann felt more alive than now. Never. Her breath was shallow and gasping. She tried to speak.

  “No…” Houston rasped thickly, “don’t think for once, Ann. Just feel. Feel!” he ordered, and captured her glistening lips one more time.

  Sinking against him, her knees like jelly due to his renewed assault on her senses, Ann felt the world skid to a dizzying halt. Only Mike and she existed. She no longer cared what anyone thought as she held him tightly against her, her breasts hard against his chest. Their hearts were pounding; she could feel his as if it were inside her. The sensation was shockingly beautiful and one she’d never experienced before. The sandpaper quality of his beard against her cheek, his hot, moist breath, the taste and power of him as he grazed her lips repeatedly, almost teasingly, left her aching painfully. She wanted to feel him inside her, filling her, taking her, making her his in every conceivable way. Whatever fear had held her was gone now, and in its place, a fierce desire for Mike welled up, surging through her like a tidal wave.

  Gradually, ever so gradually, Houston forced himself to ease back from Ann’s lips. Lips made of the wild honey he’d found only in the jungles of Peru. Honey that was so sweet it made him dissolve beneath her searching, innocent mouth. There was no question he needed her. None. And as he opened his eyes and stared down into her dazed blue-gray ones, he knew she needed him, too. She was trembling with need of him. But so was he. He regretted kissing her here in the terminal. Anywhere else would have been better than here. The painful knot in his lower body attested to the poor choice of location. He wanted to love her thoroughly, to indelibly print his essence within her. Wanted so badly to claim her and make her his woman it was nearly his undoing. The fierceness of his desire for Ann was far more than just sexual, because he was in touch with every subtle essence within her—from her emotions to her spirit. Ann didn’t know that, but he knew she could feel his bond with her as much as he did. That much was clear in the awe he saw reflected in her eyes, the questions about what she was feeling.

  “Shh,” he whispered, grazing his thumb across her wet lips, “just feel, Ann. Just feel…. It’s real…all of this is real, I promise you. You aren’t imagining anything.” He closed his eyes and rested his brow against hers, letting himself sink back into that invisible connection that he’d allowed to fully form between them. Once Ann could talk to him about her feelings and openly confide in him, he vowed to tell her all that had happened to him in the jungle. Another part of him told him he was crazy for allowing her to get close to him. Did he want to put her in that kind of danger? How could he? But Ann would have to know the truth very soon. She had to make her own decision about whether he was worth desiring or not.

  Easing away, Houston cupped her shoulders and gently moved her away from him. Ann’s face was flushed, her eyes soft and filled with desire—for him. Never had he felt stronger…or more protective. His mouth curved ruefully.

  “Would you like to go freshen up in the ladies’ room?”

  Swaying uncertainly in his embrace, Ann nodded. Looking around, she felt embarrassment flooding her. Many people had stopped to watch them. “Oh dear…yes, yes I would….”

  Mike nodded and placed his arm around her. “Don’t worry, folks around here understand lovers. They aren’t staring at us because we kissed, you know. Down here, everyone loves lovers.” He guided Ann toward the women’s restroom up ahead.

  Grateful for his humor, his protective demeanor against the many prying eyes, Ann tried to contain her escaping feelings. She pushed strands of hair away from her face and forced herself to breathe more evenly. Lovers. The word flowed through her. Yes, she wanted to be Mike’s lover. Every cell in her body was aching with need of him, more than ever now. Just being close to him was feeding that brightly burning fire that had roared to life in her during his searching, hungry kisses.

  Reaching the ladies’ room, Ann forced herself to walk into it. She felt drunk. Drunk with pleasure and desire. Somehow, she had to pull herself back together again. At the washbasin, she sloshed cold water repeatedly into her face until she felt some semblance of order returning to her. She spent a great deal more time in there than was necessary; it took a good ten minutes to gather herself. Blotting her face, she quickly ran a brush through her mussed hair and put lipstick back on her soft, well-kissed mouth.

  All of her carefully orchestrated life had just exploded. Completely. Ann was no longer thinking with her head, only her heart. The switch was shocking to her. All her life, she’d allowed her head to rule her, not her emotions. In Mike’s presence, all she wanted to do was feel—and then feel some more. What was going to happen? Could she control herself where he was concerned? She felt like a teenager with her hormones running away from her, like she had no control over anything. All she had to do was think of Mike, allow his hard features to gel before her, and she grew hot and shaky all over again. Ann thought it was because she’d denied her real feelings for him throughout the last two months. This time his kiss had ripped the lid off Pandora’s box.

  Groaning, she took a deep breath, talked sternly to herself and left the restroom. She found Houston standing across the corridor, his back to the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. How calm and centered he seemed! Ann stood there for a moment, envying his obvious control. He looked fine. He looked like nothing had happened. But it had. Something life-shattering had occurred within her when he’d held her minutes ago. Something so profound, so deep had occurred that Ann needed time to try and understand what had taken place.

  As if sensing she was there, he turned his gaze to her. In that instant, her heart responded violently, and again that sense of warmth and protection he gave her overwhelmed her. Suddenly dizzy, Ann leaned against the wall, unsure of what was happening. Instantly, she saw Mike straighten and walk directly to her.

  Before he could say anything, she held out her hand. “I’m okay. I really am.”

  He smiled a little and placed his hand on her left arm, just in case. “You look beautiful,” he whispered huskily. And she did. Her lips were soft from his kisses, her eyes velvet with desire. The flush across her cheeks was still there, and as he drew her back into the traffic, he thought she looked like a teenage girl who had just experienced her very first kiss from the boy she had a crush on.

  Ann leaned against him as he placed his arm around her shoulders and led her along. Grateful for his understanding, she managed to murmur, “I’ve
never felt like this, Mike. Ever.”

  Chuckling indulgently, he pressed a kiss to her hair. “I told you Peru would cast her spell on you. Down here, magic happens all the time.”

  “Magic? Humph. More like a sledgehammer to my head, if you ask me.” Ann heard him laugh deeply over her remark. She felt his steadying care and she acquiesced to his superior strength.

  “Well,” he drawled, giving her a teasing look, “maybe our kiss had a little something to do with that?”

  Refusing to be baited, Ann tried to give him a dour look. “You don’t have to look like a satisfied cat about it, Houston.”

  Preening a little, Mike broadened his grin into one of boyish delight. “That kiss has been a long time in coming. And there’s no way I’m apologizing for it. Ah, here we are.” He halted. “This is just what you need—espresso to settle your nerves.”

  Ann laughed a little as they stood in front of the restaurant. “Oh, sure, coffee to soothe my jangled nerves. Right.” They stood looking at the small café with its red-and-green-striped awning.

  “I always stop here, at Federico’s Place, to get my espresso when I’m coming in off a long flight.” Mike gestured to the brass-and-glass doors. “Come on. He’s got the best espresso in Lima. I swear it.”

  Once they were seated at a small round table covered in expensive white linen and decorated with colorful flowers in a cut-glass vase, Ann smiled gratefully at the waiter. When he delivered their coffee a moment later, she cautiously sipped the tiny, fragile cup of espresso, and studied the man before her. Mike Houston was simply too large for the white wrought-iron chair, the table or even this small café. But it was there that he frequented because the owner, Federico, had recognized him instantly. There had been a lot of backslapping, smiles and greetings. And it seemed the two young waiters knew him, too. She was beginning to wonder who Houston didn’t know, but then, he’d been down here more than ten years, and in his line of business, it was good to know a lot of people.

  “Well?” Mike demanded. “What do you think?” He’d already drunk half of his espresso, while Ann had only hesitantly tasted hers. He supposed she was like that with everything in her life: cautious and slow. Why? She had that shadowed look back in her eyes as she lifted the English china cup to her lips and looked at him over the rim.

  “It’s sweet…and tastes surprisingly mild.” Ann set the cup down. “I thought it would taste bitter because it’s so concentrated.”

  Chuckling, Mike finished off his first cup. A second magically showed up seconds later, Federico himself brought it over with a flourish. Mike nodded and thanked the restaurant owner. “What you poor folks up in Norteamérica get for coffee beans, is a sin,” he said to Ann with a laugh. “Sudamericanos aren’t stupid.” He raised the cup in toast to her. “We keep the best beans down here, and that’s what you’re drinking—Andean coffee raised on slopes so high that the condors fly over them daily. Coffee growing in some of the finest, richest lava soil in the world. It has to taste good.”

  Ann couldn’t help but smile. “You are so passionate about everything. I’ve never met anyone like you before.” It was Mike’s passion that was somehow encouraging her to tap into her own desires on such a primal, wonderful level of herself as a woman.

  His reckless grin broadened. “My mother often told me when I was a young kid growing up that if I didn’t love whatever I was doing, I’d eventually curl up and die. She told me to do things that made my heart sing, that made my heart soar like the condors that hang above the Andes.” He sobered a little and sighed. “She was a woman of immense intelligence, I realized as I got old enough and experienced enough to really understand what she was telling me.”

  “To live life with passion,” Ann murmured. “That’s not one I’ve heard of late.”

  “So,” Mike said, “do you live your life with passion? Do you love what you do as a medical doctor?”

  “I like what I do. It feels good to be able to stop a person’s pain, to stop death from cheating a life…but passion? I don’t know about that.” She frowned and picked up her cup once again. “I certainly don’t live with the gusto you do.”

  “A little while ago,” Mike murmured in a low intimate tone, as he turned the tiny cup around and around between his massive, scarred hands, “I saw a different Ann Parsons out there. Not the one I knew for eight weeks in Arizona. This woman, the one I kissed today, was—different. Provocative…passionate…committed…”

  “Translated, that means what?”

  “Just that I felt a much different woman,” Mike said in a whisper, so that no one could eavesdrop.

  Avoiding his heated look, Ann tinkered nervously with the cup in her hands. “Mike…give me time. I—I’m just not prepared to say much right now.”

  Holding up his palm in a gesture of peace, he added huskily, “You’re a woman of immense feelings. I understand. You’re like a deep, deep well of water. Not many are privy to the real feelings you hide so well.”

  Ann couldn’t deny any of it. Stealing a glance at him, she whispered, “I don’t know what happened to me today, Mike. Maybe something changed in me when I saw Antonio almost die. I usually protect myself from personal feelings in these situations….” Her words trailed away as she became pensive. Mike deserved her honesty here. Setting the cup down, she forced herself to add, “I guess your passion for living life with emotion has rubbed off onto me a lot more than I realized. Watching your friend almost die probably shook that loose in me. It was time, I guess….”

  Mike nodded, feeling the gravity of her statement. She was being honest on a level he’d never experienced with her before—due to that magical connection forged between them earlier, in that beautiful moment when he’d kissed her. He decided to return some of her honesty. “When I was trying to save Tony, I was afraid,” he admitted. “I was afraid he was dead. I wanted him to live so damn bad I could taste it. I could feel myself willing my heartbeat, my energy or whatever it was, into his body. And when I looked up at you in that moment, I felt hope. It spurred me on.” With a shrug, he added a little shamefacedly, “I can’t tell you what went on between us in that split second, I only know that something did. And somehow, it gave me hope when I didn’t really have any left.”

  “All that in one look,” Ann murmured as she sipped the espresso. “I’m amazed, frankly.” Still, she felt good at Mike’s sincere praise, at the admiration in his eyes. She liked the feeling.

  “You have a very healing effect on people, whether you know it or not,” Houston said sincerely.

  “Something else happened back there, Mike,” Ann began hesitantly. “I think what I saw may have been a result of sleep deprivation.” She saw him frown. With a wave of her thin hand, she said, “Not that it was bad. It was just…shocking.”

  “What happened?”

  “Promise you won’t tell me I had a brief, acute psychotic episode?”

  “No problem. You’re sane and well grounded.” Interested in hearing her experience, Houston asked, “This happened while we were bagging Tony?”

  “Yes. At one point,” Ann continued, setting the espresso aside and folding her hands on the table, “something changed. You got far more intense than before. You’d hit him twice in the chest and he hadn’t started breathing again. I know you were desperate. You wanted your friend to live. That was normal behavior, but…” she folded her hands “…then something happened, and I can’t explain it or even begin to get a handle on it.”

  “What?” Mike’s scowl deepened. He saw a flush stain Ann’s cheeks. “Something that upset you?”

  “It didn’t upset me exactly, Mike. I just felt these incredible waves of energy striking me, like waves from the ocean, only…they were coming from you. I actually felt buffeted by them as you leaned over Tony, working so intently with him, willing him to live. And then, the silliest thing of all, I saw this shadow or something…. It descended over you. Well, part of you. And it was only for a split second. I’m sure it was a sleep-depri
vation hallucination….”

  “What did you see?” he demanded darkly.

  Taking a deep breath, Ann dived into her experience. “I saw this dark shadow appear above your head. It just seemed to form out of nowhere. I’m not sure anyone else saw it.” Moistening her lips and avoiding his sharp, glittering gaze, she added, “I saw it come over you like a transparency of some sort, fitting over your head and shoulders.” Embarrassed, she gave an awkward laugh, and said, “For a moment, it looked like a jaguar or leopard over your head. I no longer saw your face, your profile. Instead I saw this huge cat’s head and massive shoulders. Well,” Ann murmured wryly, risking a look up at him, “I’m sure by now you think I experienced a psychotic episode.”

  Mike shrugged. “Down here,” he muttered uncomfortably, “I carry a name.”

  “Excuse me?”

  His brows knitted and he stared down at his espresso cup. “I have a nickname….” He heaved a sigh. Lifting his head, he met her frank blue-gray gaze. “I’m sure you’ll hear it sooner rather than later, so I might as well tell you myself. I’m called the jaguar god. It’s a reputation I’ve garnered over the years. The cocaine lords started calling me that a long time ago. The name stuck.” He grimaced.

  “It’s not a bad name,” Ann murmured. “Why are you so uncomfortable with it?”

  Mike sat up and flexed his shoulders. “Someday, Ann, I’ll tell you more about it. More than likely my friends at the clinic will fill your ears about me, about the legend surrounding me, until you’re sick and tired of hearing that name.”

  Ann frowned. “You mean there’s more to this? I wasn’t seeing things?”

  Mike rose and pulled some sols from his pocket. “You’re a trained therapist. You know how sleep deprivation and emotional stress can make you hallucinate during intense moments of crisis,” he said, deciding that the truth would have to wait. He couldn’t risk her rejection of him. Not after that nourishing kiss. “Come on, that van should be ready by now and those medical supplies loaded in it.”