She loved being able to do that.
Her leisurely exploration continued down the side of his neck. His mouth had traveled all over her body, but in one of life’s great inequities, hers had not had the same pleasure. She planned to balance that right now.
With his buttons undone, it didn’t take long for her to pull the shirt out of his waistband and strip it down his arms. She tossed it on the coffee table.
“Just what do you have in mind?” he inquired softly as she tasted the skin over his perfect pecs. But she didn’t reply. She’d moved on to the flat cinnamon nipple and bitten it gently.
Oops, there went the breathing again. And it never quite returned to its previous regularity, either, especially when she ran her tongue over his abs and explored the depression of his belly button.
“Linn—”
South of his waistband, she could see the bulge of his erection confined by the fabric of his clean khaki trousers.
And while she was busy looking, he found the opportune moment to act. His fingers tugged at her waist, a draft of cool air traveled the length of her body and her bathrobe landed in a heap on top of his shirt on the coffee table.
“If we were playing strip poker, you’d lose.” His cocky grin didn’t stay in place for long. She scrambled on top of him, and he landed on his back, stretched out the length of the couch, his head pillowed on a batiked cushion from Bali.
“It’s a lucky thing we’re not playing, then, isn’t it?”
No more playing anything—whether it was parts or games. Dean and Caroline were far away, and in this room there were only the two of them as they really were.
At last.
Linn slipped her arms around his neck and looked down into his eyes. His hands slid upward over her bare skin and he circled her waist, moving slowly, each caress a discovery.
“I’m not playing,” he told her, his gaze serious. “But I couldn’t tell Coop.”
“Do you normally tell him everything?” she whispered against his lips.
“Usually there’s nothing to tell. But now when there is, I couldn’t say anything.”
“Tell me.” She tasted his lower lip, running her tongue along its fullness. When he opened his mouth to her, she deepened the kiss and explored the warmth inside.
“After,” he managed, then pulled her head down. Now it was her turn to kiss him with all the passion fizzing in her blood, the kind of kiss that made arrows of desire shoot from mouth to breast to clitoris. The kind of kiss that made him lift his hips in suggestion, grinding his erection against her pelvic bones in a way that made her breathless with anticipation for more.
He broke the kiss and nuzzled her throat, possessing each inch with his mouth before moving on to the next, as if creating a necklace of moisture on her skin. When he arrived at the first swell of her breast, he grasped her around the waist and scooted her up a little. She braced her elbows on the pillow and let her nipple brush his lips.
Now it was her turn for a hitch in the breathing. Her breasts were aching for him, her nipples distended and so sensitive that each brush of his tongue was exquisite torture. His lips traveled the landscape of each breast with equal care, his tongue swirling where it would make her gasp, and he bared his teeth to nibble where it would make her moan.
How well he knew her now. Or maybe it was how well she’d allowed him to know her. He’d been able to make her focus on him and think about sex from the very beginning, to the exclusion of everything else and practically jeopardizing her ability to do her job. Now it seemed as though that focus had grown to the point that her whole world had narrowed down to this one moment, this one man.
He scooted her up his body again, and suddenly she saw where he was going. He smiled up at her, a challenging, dangerous look, and before she could pull away or rethink the situation or even react, he’d grasped her waist with both hands and positioned her above him.
With her knees sinking into the couch cushions on either side of his shoulders, she looked down into his face. The desire humming through her blood seemed to pool between her legs, producing a creamy trickle of arousal.
She wanted this. Oh, yes. Any lingering thought of pulling away vanished like a puff of steam.
He pulled her toward him and her back arched in anticipation as he parted her folds with sure fingers. His tongue found the moisture between her legs and licked it up, and he grasped her buttocks to pull her closer. Every sense she possessed zeroed in on his tongue and what it could do to her. She was hardly aware of bracing both hands on the arm of the couch, because her body was a wave of pleasure, ebbing and flowing as his skillful tongue intensified the pressure and backed it away.
“Kellan, I need—”
“I know what you need.”
Then he had mercy on her, his strokes centering on her clit, licking and savoring every molecule of her pleasure. In an explosion of sensation, her orgasm blossomed, and she bucked against his mouth, hardly aware that his hands still held her in place, trapping her where she most wanted to be.
Gasping, she fell to one side, and he was there to catch her, to roll her under him. Impatiently she undid his belt and pulled at his trousers so that he was as naked as she was. Her mouth was hungry for whatever part of him she could reach, her very skin craving his warmth and weight.
“One second—” He grabbed his pants and, with his arms around her as he scrabbled through the pockets, found a condom.
She helped him on with it and, at last, time seemed to slow as her legs parted around his thighs and she raised her hips to meet him in welcome. He slid into her body with exquisite slowness.
There was no question of backing away or of trying to do the right thing. The right thing was here and now. As Kellan moved, slowly at first and then with increasing urgency, she felt the pleasure build inside again. His breathing changed and she knew he was as close as she, and then she could no longer sense the outside world. All her awareness centered on him as he buried his face in her breasts and muffled his cry against her skin.
And knowing she had brought him such pleasure tilted her over the edge a second time. She gripped his shoulders, shuddering with the force of it. When the waves had subsided and she could breathe, she found that they were tightly wrapped around each other in the deep cushions of the couch.
SHE MUST HAVE FALLEN ASLEEP, because somewhere in the dark and the silence of the early hours of the morning, she heard a whisper above her that said, “I’ll talk to you later today.”
When she woke, the sunlight was pouring in through the still-open sliding glass door, and she was stretched out on the couch.
Alone.
“Kellan?” A quick search of the condo confirmed it. He hadn’t stayed. This was a switch. He’d done the backing away, even though it was no longer what she wanted.
Linn walked slowly into the bathroom, the tiles cold under her bare feet, and turned on the shower, half hoping it would be like a magic signal that would bring him back. She opened the cabinet where she kept her soap and stepped back, startled, as a silver rain of little foil packets fell out of it.
Two or three landed in her hand, and her fingers closed around them.
Okay, so he was gone. But only temporarily.
When she climbed into the shower, she was smiling.
14
THE CALL CAME IN late Thursday afternoon to the “hot number,” and Kellan took it in his role as Dean. When it was over and the technician indicated it had come from one of O’Reilly’s new cell phones in the vicinity of the Transamerica Building, Kellan waved the team into one of the interview rooms.
“He was probably visiting his broker,” Coop said wryly. “Or setting up a fake corporation or something.”
“Or he had a meeting with that guy who used to do the financials for that computer company,” Linn said. “Farley. Arroyo’s money guy.”
“Which would make sense, given that they’re expecting two and a half mil tomorrow night.” Kellan gave her an approving glance,
and Linn resisted the urge to reach out and run her palm up his bare arm. Instead she put her hands in her lap, one imprisoned inside the other.
This was awful. This was why she’d stuck to the “no hands” policy in her work relationships for the past several years. Keeping her hands to herself wasn’t the problem—she had pretty healthy survival instincts. But her whole body, her skin, her muscles—probably even her hair—right now they all wanted to be close to Kellan.
Whole-body yearning.
This was exactly how addicts felt, from all accounts, and if she indulged the urge, the mortality rate might be just as high. Once they were out there on the mean streets, one hesitation, one moment of fear on behalf of the other, could mean sudden death for both Kellan and her. Gritting her teeth, Linn shook the grim thoughts away, took courage from Natalie’s advice and the thought of what Kellan had left behind in her bathroom cabinet, and laced her fingers together more tightly.
In the chair beside her at the conference table, Kellan resumed the briefing. “Okay, so the Santo Domingo is a go. Eleven o’clock tomorrow night. We’ve got two suites reserved, one where we’ll do the deal, and the one adjoining it where the team will be stationed.”
“What’s the layout?” Danny wanted to know.
“The ventilation system runs right above the two rooms. There’s a vent on one side that’s the twin of a vent on the team’s side. It’ll do for the audio. Just keep in mind they’ll probably do a sweep themselves.”
“Are you wearing a wire?”
“Definitely. I think I’ve established enough of a rep with Arroyo that he won’t pat me down. I’ll be on one channel, and Linn will be on the other. Control will relay information between us.”
“What do you mean, between you?” Danny asked.
“She’s not going in with me.”
Heads swiveled to look at her as she straightened in the chair. “What?” She couldn’t have heard correctly.
“What I said. You know as well as I do that Arroyo isn’t going to do this with a woman around.”
Adrenaline hit Linn’s bloodstream like a splash of scalding ice water. After all the work they’d done together, after all the crap she’d had to endure from O’Reilly, he wasn’t going to let her in on the final scene?
“Who’s going to back you up, then?” she demanded.
“Coop is.”
Cooper looked from her to Kellan as if he didn’t know whether to be happy about this or not.
“He’ll play the money guy,” Kellan continued. “He’ll flash the cash at them but never actually take it out of the briefcase. The taxpayers’ money has to go back into the Treasury once we’re done.”
“So what do you expect me to do?” Linn wasn’t finished with him yet. There was nothing more aggravating than a man with a logical, reasonable plan. Especially one in which she’d had no input. He was doing it again. Taking away her choices when he knew how much this meeting—not to mention his safety—meant to her. She could give in when it meant Chinese food, but not when so much was riding on their partnership.
“Your job will be to make sure they get to the dock with the kilos,” Kellan told her. “Once I have the okay from you via cell phone that the shipment’s there, we’ll break the news to Arroyo and O’Reilly that they’re invited to a long vacation in the federal pen.” He grinned, as if he’d just handed her a present and couldn’t wait to see if she liked it.
It was perfect. Reasonable. Necessary.
It stank.
She’d be half a dozen floors or more away from him when the deal went down. If something went wrong, he could die of a bullet wound long before she would even know about it, much less get there in time to do something.
Wait a minute. She forced herself to sit back in the chair.
This wasn’t the concern of one team member for another. This wasn’t even the usual pregame jitters. This was the panic of a woman for the safety of her man.
Linn sat motionless while the knowledge seeped into her bones and the team argued all around her about firepower and logistics and surveillance equipment.
There was no more backing away now. She’d fallen well and truly in love with him.
With a big, devastating, annoyingly logical man who could melt her with a smile or even a word, and who’d proven it oh so many times over in the last few days.
Now what was she going to do?
“SO, HOW DO I LOOK?”
In the spare room of the temporary house, Cooper stood in front of the mirror and tugged on the hem of his jacket. He turned, looked behind him and shrugged his shoulders to make it drape properly.
“Like a wiseguy.” Kellan fastened a heavy gold chain around his neck. It had been rented for his final appearance as Dean, with a hefty insurance rider. “I like these collarless shirts. No tie.”
“I have a personal rule. No ties except at last rites and in court. No exceptions.”
“Last rites?”
“Yeah. Weddings.” Coop grinned, a grin that meant he was about to lean on the ropes of their friendship and test them. “Speaking of which, what’s new with you and Linn?”
“Nothing.”
Coop snorted and tucked his service weapon into a shoulder holster under his suit jacket. “Yeah, right. You look at each other and the oxygen practically combusts in the air. You tell her she’s not in the deal and she looks like she’s going to blow a gasket. Sure signs of nothing, in my book.”
Carefully not looking at his buddy, Kellan pulled his shirt out a little so it would hide any evidence of the transmitter taped to his ribs. “She wants to be involved, that’s all.”
“Yeah. Involved with you.”
“What’s so bad about that?”
Cooper gave him a sideways look. “You shouldn’t shit in your own backyard, man.”
Kellan wondered if anyone had ever written up Cooper Maxwell for the language he used on duty.
“You’re her team lead,” Coop went on. “Where do you think you’re going to go with this? And don’t give me that look. Danny and I haven’t been talking. The whole team knows.”
They did? “Yeah, well, if the team knows, they can just stay away from her.”
Coop snorted again. “Most of us don’t like to make love with a whip in one hand and a chair in the other. You’ve got no competition from me.”
“She’s not like that once you get to know her. She’s smart and creative, and damn good at her job.”
“So you said. And I know it, too,” Coop allowed. “But she’s one of ours. Not the usual out-of-towner.”
Kellan thought briefly about telling him to mind his own business, but that was like telling his sisters to keep a secret. It would only escalate to teasing and pranks and succeed in making Linn’s life miserable.
“If you’re done reviewing the policy manual, it’s time to go buy some cocaine.”
Two local DEA agents and a couple of the plainclothes guys from San Francisco PD sat in the living room, but they weren’t reviewing the files Kellan had left on the table. They were flirting uproariously with Linn, who was dressed in an eye-popping pair of black suede jeans, a red tank top and a black leather bomber jacket. She was holding court with as much aplomb as Caroline, and the men were eating it up.
“Everybody ready to go?” he asked loudly.
One of the agents grinned at him. “Whenever you are. Investigator Nichols has just been briefing us.”
Any of these yo-yos were entitled to ask her out, he thought sourly, once the operation was over. She could have her choice of any single man in the room, but he planned to be the one she chose. As soon as tonight was finished, he’d find a way to stop her from running.
But he had to put thoughts like that out of his mind and focus on the job at hand. Once they had Arroyo and O’Reilly in the bag, he could think about how he was going to show Linn he was the man for her.
They departed the temporary house in small teams, five minutes apart. Linn and Danny went in one car, shadowed by a
backup vehicle, to take up positions at the hotel’s loading dock and wait for the winery truck. At this time of night there would be few deliveries, and the chances of someone innocently dropping off a load of bagels and getting caught in the crossfire would be low. The DEA guys were headed to the surveillance room at the hotel. It was a carefully choreographed dance, played out in one form or another by narcotics teams all across the country.
Which didn’t make it any less personal.
A CLEU member dropped them under the portico at the hotel before parking down the street to give them the heads-up when Arroyo arrived. Kellan and Cooper, who was carrying the briefcase containing the State’s hundred-thousand-dollar flash roll, strolled through the lobby and rode the elevator up to the eighth floor.
Cooper slid the briefcase into a drawer in the suite’s entertainment center and closed it. Certain his heart was pumping sixty percent adrenaline, forty percent blood, Kellan paced through the suite’s sitting room from the windows to the door and back, while Coop did the same in the bedroom, circling the computer desk again and again.
The wireless transmitter in his ear clicked. “Control to Team One,” said the calm voice of the radio operator. “The perimeter team advises your target has arrived. Front portico, late-model luxury sedan. ETA three minutes.”
“What about Team Two, Control?” he asked.
“No sign of the delivery van as yet.”
The racing adrenaline settled into cool, focused control. By the time the soft knock came at the door, Kellan’s jitters had stopped.
He opened it to see a small crowd composed of Arroyo and his four bodyguards. Arroyo nodded as he passed him in the narrow hallway.
“I hope you are well?”
“Never better.”
Two of the bodyguards stayed outside, one standing next to the door and one opposite the elevator. And Kellan had no doubt whatsoever that everyone was armed to the teeth.
El Peligroso wanted to make sure he was in control of the deal.
The U.S. of A. was a free country. He could think that if he wanted to.
His Hot Number Page 16
