Princess

by Christina Skye

  “Nothing’s going to happen to her,” Gabe said quietly. “I’ll ask a few questions and tell you everything I can.”

  Which might be very little, Summer knew. She was bound by the same rules in her work. But something was better than nothing.

  “If Jess is tangled up with Izzy, it’s a bad sign,” she said slowly. “I know the game plan, and I won’t pry. But I’m calling her.” There was a catch in her voice. “I need to know that she’s okay.”

  “You worry too much.” Gabe slid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. “That’s part of your charm. But you need to remember that Jess is smart and she’s tough in her own way. You don’t need to fight her battles for her.”

  He was right, Summer thought. Jess was smart, stubborn, and independent.

  She took a deep breath, looking out at the snow and thinking about a house with too many shadows and too much regret. It was hard to stop worrying about someone you loved, she discovered.

  Summer was paid to take risks. She actually enjoyed the adrenaline rush and the challenge of pushing herself to the limit. But Jess didn’t know that dark world. She still trusted in human honesty and the generosity of strangers.

  And that trust scared Summer more than anything else.

  When Gabe eased from the bed an hour later, Summer made a muffled protest, then rolled onto her side, burrowing into the warmth left behind him.

  Quietly, the SEAL moved outside and punched a button on his cell phone.

  Izzy Teague answered on the first ring. “Acme Car Wash. Hand polishing is our specialty.”

  “One of these days you’re going to wise off to some Beltway big shot and find yourself out on your ass looking for a new line of work,” Gabe said dryly. “I could have been the SecDef or head of the Joint Chiefs.”

  “Not on this line, pal. Only two people have this number.” A chair creaked. “Don’t ask who the other person is.” Izzy was quiet for a moment, keys tapping at a computer. “You’re calling about Jess, I take it.”

  Gabe watched a fresh curtain of snow veil the window. “You don’t miss much, same as always. Tell me what you can.”

  “Jess wandered into the middle of . . . something. But that’s it. Tell Summer there’s nothing to worry about.”

  Gabe frowned. “I have your word on that? Summer’s damned touchy where Jess is concerned. It’s one of those twin things.”

  “Jess is fine. I’m watching out for any possible . . . complications.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.” Gabe’s eyes narrowed. “If they arise, you’d better haul ass and deal with those complications,” he said quietly.

  “Trust me, civilians wandering around in the middle of work is not my idea of good mission planning.”

  So Izzy was on a mission, Gabe thought. “Anything you can talk about?”

  Izzy cleared his throat. “Afraid not.”

  “If that changes, you know where to reach me.”

  “Roger that.”

  “Watch your six, Teague,” Gabe muttered. After hanging up, he stared into the darkness, running through a list of possible contacts, starting deep inside the Pentagon.

  Then he leaned back and dialed the first name on his extensive net of military contacts.

  When Gabe finally put down the phone, his thoughts were far away from the quiet snow dusting the Philadelphia streets.

  On the desk in front of him was a toy otter from the Monterey Bay Aquarium, a gift from Summer. Nearby was a photo of Summer with her proud superior after both had received special citations for their work on a high-profile kidnapping case.

  Leaning down, Gabe opened a drawer of the desk and pulled out a plain blue rubber band, like thousands of others sold in cheap packages anywhere in the country.

  But this rubber band had helped him through half a dozen operations after an accident in the line of duty. Because it had come from Summer’s hair, he still regarded it as a powerful talisman.

  Twisting the rubber band between his fingers, he stared out into the snow-swept darkness. Now that he knew Izzy’s covert assignment, he had to assess how closely Jess was involved.

  And the animal involved was more than a description in a secret file, because Gabe had spent the last month guarding the missing lab animal on its maiden voyage from Australia. The trouble had begun three months earlier, when the ultrasecret transgenic koala bear had developed unexpected heart problems, which had not responded to treatment.

  The scientists in charge had immediately made arrangements to transport the animal to the United States for evaluation and stabilization. When the animal had shown no tolerance for air travel, Gabe and twelve other men had accompanied the female koala on its transpacific voyage.

  Gabe had heard the recent news about the raid that had resulted in two dead government agents. Currently, one agent was still in guarded condition—and the animal was missing.

  How in the hell had Jess Mulcahey stumbled right into the middle of the situation?

  Gabe glanced down at his watch and thought about putting in a second call to Izzy, but when he looked up, Summer was standing in the doorway.

  “Something wrong?” she asked quietly.

  “Just a few calls I had to make.” She was even more beautiful in the moonlight. Gabe hadn’t thought it was possible.

  Her expression turned tender. “You need to sleep, Navy, but first you need to eat some of my very excellent spaghetti. And if you don’t like it, I may have to practice my Weaver stance on you,” she said wryly.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll love every bite.” But because of what he’d learned in his calls, Gabe suspected his time with Summer was limited, and he didn’t intend to waste one precious second.

  He figured there were better things to do on a kitchen table than eat spaghetti.

  chapter 12

  “Have to go.”

  Hawk felt Jess turn, mumbling against his chest. “Go back to sleep,” he murmured.

  “Report’s done. Can’t stay—not safe now.” She twisted without warning, one elbow digging at his ribs.

  Stifling a curse, Hawk drew her away from his side. His jacket slid away, revealing her naked breast.

  He couldn’t stop himself, covering her with his mouth, enjoying the way her breath caught when his tongue ran over her.

  “Hawk,” she said drowsily.

  “Right here.” He couldn’t stop his hands gliding over every inch of her as his jacket shifted and fell to the floor.

  She opened her eyes, searching his face.

  Without a word she arched her body, pushing against his hands, and made a sharp sound of pleasure when his fingers tangled in the slick curls at her thighs.

  She made a little sound that could have been his name, then she rolled onto her side and pushed away from him. “You haven’t—you don’t want to—”

  “I’m fine,” he said harshly.

  But she was fully awake now, her eyes shimmering with questions. She took a breath, sliding on top of him, her hands tugging at his belt, then working awkwardly at his zipper until he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe for the desperate need to be buried deep inside her.

  “Jess.” His voice was savage, his fingers locked hard over her wrist.

  “Now.” Searching, she drew him between hands that weren’t quite steady. “My rules, Lieutenant. Here and now. Fair is fair, so shut up.” She looked deep into his eyes, then circled his rigid length.

  His control exploded when she traced him slowly, slipping one bead of liquid onto her finger.

  Against her open lips.

  His need flared white-hot.

  His, he thought blindly. He whispered her name, spreading her legs while her smoky green eyes searched his face. She was sleek, tight.

  Too damned tight, Hawk thought through a bloodred haze of desire. He would hurt her if he wasn’t careful.

  And right now he couldn’t be careful, not pumped up with pills that churned through his blood, amping up his hormones.

  She leaned
down, wriggled side to side, moving to fit him inside her. Every motion left him hungrier. With a sigh she closed her eyes and brought him deeper.

  But not deep enough. He was too big, the fit too tight.

  Hawk gripped her waist, trying to ignore the angry demon of need that made him ache to shove her back and ride her blindly, without care or concern.

  “Stop,” he grated. “Don’t . . . move.”

  She shuddered, then went still.

  His jaw clenched. “Jess, are you protected?”

  She frowned. “I’m safe.”

  “You need to be sure,” he said tightly. He remembered the pill case in her purse but he wanted verification.

  “It’s fine. Don’t worry.” She watched him, color flooding her cheeks. “Trust me.”

  Him trusting her. Oddly, Hawk realized that he did.

  She winced as she pushed against him, biting her lip. “Would you mind explaining why in the books and all the movies, this part is effortless? I mean, there are violins and gauzy scarves and everything fits perfectly. There’s no cellulite in sight.”

  Hawk laughed darkly. “Surgeons make a fortune. So do filmmakers, honey.”

  “You’re too big,” she rasped. “I’m no expert, but I’ve never felt—” More color swept into her face. “So small. So tight.”

  Hawk cursed, his eyes closing as he felt her rock against him. “You damned well better not remind me, Jess. I can feel exactly how tight you are.”

  And it was killing him.

  “Then do something. You’re the expert.” She sounded cross and embarrassed.

  “What the hell do you want me to do, force you?” It was coming too close to being a possibility, Hawk realized grimly.

  He decided that the medicine contributed by the Navy’s top-secret research team needed to come with a detailed warning label. No women within twenty feet. No beautiful, stubborn, reckless women anywhere within range of sight or hearing.

  Meanwhile, he had a major problem. The part of his anatomy that was between them felt like iron.

  She worked her body back and forth, making no headway, then fell back, exasperated, her hands on his shoulders. “Just do it. I’ll be fine.” Her lips twitched. “I’ll think of Queen and Country.”

  If he hadn’t been so gripped by need, Hawk might have managed a laugh. As it was, even the ghost of a smile was beyond him. “Hell if you’ll be thinking about England or anything but me when I’m inside you.”

  “But you’re not inside me,” she muttered. “Not really. And I want you to be.” She pressed against him. “I really want you to be.”

  So much for the violins and the gauzy silk, Hawk thought. She was so tight it felt like her first sexual experience.

  His body went absolutely still. “This isn’t your first time, is it? I’ll be damned if I’m going to—”

  She made a low, shaky sound and looked away. For an awful moment Hawk thought she was crying.

  Then he realized the broken sounds were muffled laughter, her body shaking beneath him.

  “I don’t think the question’s particularly funny,” he snapped.

  “It’s not, but the way you asked—terrified—I can’t help laughing. And no, it’s not my first time. But you’re so—” She cracked an eye open. “Okay, you’re huge. And I’m not just saying that because guys love praise for their physical assets.”

  “What guys?” He refused to ask how many. It wasn’t his business. This was strictly one-time sex, delivered on an emergency basis.

  “Who? Every primate with a Y chromosome,” Jess said wryly. “And, no, there haven’t been that many. Three total. Actually, make that two and one-half, if you count the dentist.”

  Hawk bit back an oath. He wasn’t sure how you could manage a one-half rating in sex, but he didn’t want to think about Jess with other men.

  It was bad enough trying to figure out what to do with her here and now.

  “Actually, that works out right,” she continued breathlessly, “because you’re definitely one and a half in the endowment category, so that makes an even four.” Her lids fell, framing smoky eyes. “Assuming that you stop complaining and get yourself inside me. Push harder or something.”

  Push harder?

  God, Hawk thought, she was going to kill him yet.

  He shook his head and their eyes met. Then she smiled, slowly, as if they shared some ancient joke that no one else could understand.

  Hawk’s body tightened.

  He twisted, rolling her beneath him. Slipping her legs up around his waist, he arrowed down, rocking her, each movement driving him inside her in increments. She gripped him, hot and tight as a glove, her breath catching on a gasp as he filled her completely.

  Then withdrew.

  Her protest broke in a sigh as his hips knifed down sharply. Fully sheathed in her wet heat, he drove her over the floor, across his leather jacket until she dug her nails into his back.

  She gasped his name. Her back arched. Hawk felt her hot, intimate contractions grip him tightly where he rode deep inside her.

  As her nails scored his back, he took her up again, finding a fierce rhythm that left her gasping, plunging into waves of pleasure. This time he followed, spilling himself inside her with fierce abandon.

  chapter 13

  Thunder cracked, rolling in the distance.

  Hawk’s fingers tightened in Jess’s hair.

  He smiled as she sighed, her hips moving against him with slow satisfaction.

  His response was instant. In any other man, it would have been unnatural.

  “Again?” Her eyes snapped open. The man was amazing.

  Already hard, he answered with his body, pulling her on top of him.

  Her nails dug into his back. “Wait just a minute. You can do that? I mean, most men—”

  “Forget most men.”

  “Gladly.”

  Hawk coaxed her breast erect with his teeth, moving deep inside her until she closed her eyes and made a broken sound of pleasure, at the edge of another climax.

  Without warning, static hammered through the elevator. A voice filled the silence that followed, raw and angry over the tinny speakers. “I know you’re there, even though you covered the camera.”

  Jess’s smile faded.

  “You’re there and you can hear me. Bitch.”

  Hawk’s arms tightened. When Jess started to snap back an answer, he shook his head in silent warning.

  “Just remember, you won’t be anonymous after this, bitch. We know what you look like now. No more spying on peoples’ lives and filing your damned reports. Someone will be watching for you.”

  Jess quivered in Hawk’s arms and once again started to speak, but he cut her off with a finger to her lips.

  “It would serve you right if we just left you in the elevator another few hours.”

  Hawk dug beneath the sleeve of his jacket, found a pen, and scrawled on the back of the ace of spades.

  Don’t talk.

  Jess nodded tensely, her heart pounding.

  Recognize the voice?

  She shook her head.

  Hawk’s jaw was rigid as he pulled out his cell phone. He pressed a button and set the phone on the floor.

  I’m getting this on the recorder. We’ll find him. Don’t worry.

  She brushed his jaw gently with her knuckles and mouthed two words.

  Thank you.

  Jess turned her head, unable to listen to the hate-filled voice. She felt his fingers tighten on her shoulders, then loosen, circling with gentle comfort.

  So gentle, she thought.

  With so much violence locked inside him.

  She made a low sound, brushing her face. Her tears felt cold on her skin.

  As Hawk looked at her, he crumpled the playing card between his fingers.

  Jess mouthed a word. What?

  He stared at the folded card, his jaw working back and forth as he opened it tensely. I’d like to kill him.

  He stared at the black outl
ine of the ace of spades, then wrote something more.

  I thought you were exaggerating about the threats. That makes me one of those worthless shits I warned you about.

  She grabbed the pen and card, tossed them over her shoulder, and gripped his shoulders fiercely.

  No, she breathed.

  Above them the angry voice faded against the static. The silence inside changed, charged with need. Whispers replaced anger and leather rustled on silk while strangers forgot their distance, snared in an expanding universe of intimacy, beyond questions or answers.

  Thunder cracked and growled as Hawk locked his fingers through hers, lifted her arms, and watched her as he drove into the dark places no man had ever filled before. His eyes were hungry, his body unsated as he claimed her with unnerving skill, one climax racing into another, until they were spent, exhausted.

  When they were done, she lay staring up at the shadowed ceiling, his leather jacket caught in folds beneath her still trembling body.

  Neither spoke.

  What could words have added? Jess thought.

  He was strong, generous, amazingly sensual.

  Strangely, he had made her feel strong, too.

  Her. Awkward and uncomfortable Jess, who counted only three men in her experience, not one of whom had left her body tingling neck to toe from his mouth and teeth and just a hint of beard burn.

  She sighed and closed her eyes.

  “Cold?”

  She shook her head. He took time for small, wet bites that left her nerves zinging all over again.

  “You’re . . . very good at this.”

  His eyes narrowed. “A problem?”

  “No. I just—” How many other women had fallen for his rough skill and dark charm? Jess wondered.

  Not her business. No questions and no strings.

  “Sorry. That came out wrong.” She refused to be a cliché. For God’s sake, it was sex in an elevator, and the idea had been hers, not his.

  She’d practically forced him to finish.

  Color filled her face.

  She searched blindly and grabbed something lacy to cover herself. Since it turned out to be her underwear, it was a useless effort.