She shook her head vigorously, panting. “N-no.”
“Do you understand that every time you run, I will catch you? Every time I catch you, you’ll go under a cold shower. Next time, I might just paddle your ass, too.”
Man, she looked pitiful in an adorable way. She sat there drenched and blinking the water out of her eyes. His eyes drifted over her breasts. She didn’t need a padded bra, but it might’ve disguised the very sensual beast he’d captured. Two perfect pebbles embossed her sodden shirt exactly where a man was prone to look. Dressed in black and soaking wet like she was would’ve made for a helluva temptation if he’d been another kind of man.
Nonetheless, disciplinary action was quickly turning into something he hadn’t intended, and he needed to end it. Lee turned the water off and pulled her to her feet, letting her stand in the tub while the water drained. He snagged one of the extra thick Turkish towels off the rack behind the door. That was another good thing about this place. The towels weren’t two feet by six and transparent like a lot of the ones back home.
If not for the cuffs, he’d have tossed the towel at her and walked away. But she was restrained, and now she was wet. He hadn’t thought this far ahead. She’d have to get out of those wet clothes. He debated. Uncuff her? Damn woman couldn’t be trusted. Leave her cuffed? That meant he’d be undressing her, and she’d be naked and then—
He stared at her, all soggy and unintentionally seductive. She’d turned submissive, keeping her eyes on the floor and her mouth shut. He put it to her. “Listen up, Tess. Either I uncuff you so you can get dried off and dressed all by yourself, or I’ll do it for you. You decide.”
She turned her cute, dripping-wet ass to him and wriggled her fingers. “Uncuff me. Please. I’ll be good. I promise.”
He doubted that, but he had no choice, not with the bulge in his pants begging for attention it wasn’t going to get. He had his own problems to deal with and removing one article of clothing from that very chilly, goose-bumpily hot female bod would only cause more. Breathing hard, he pulled his key ring out of his pants pocket, fingered the smallest key, and unlocked the cuffs.
“You try anything,” he rasped, his voice suddenly gravelly, “and so help me you won’t like how the rest of this morning goes. Cold water ain’t nothing. I can promise you that.”
“Okay,” she whispered. If he hadn’t already heard that little-girl routine of hers a couple times, he would’ve believed it. He stared at her for another second, the back closure of her bra outlined beneath her wet blouse. Shaking his head at the predicament he’d gotten himself into, he removed the cuffs.
She didn’t move, other than to lean her head against the tile shower wall while she rubbed her wrists and her shoulders and shivered. “Thank you.”
There were no windows in the room, but he didn’t want to leave her alone. The woman was as devious as the day was long. Somehow, he was sure she could find a way out of a bank vault.
“You’ve got ten minutes. Hear me?” he asked gruffly to mask the tender feelings creeping up on him for this obnoxiously tempting woman. “Any noise in here besides the toilet flushing, the blow-dryer, or the faucet, and I’m back and you won’t like it. Next time it’ll be worse for you.”
She nodded, still panting, and her heaving breasts calling him on. He did an abrupt about-face and stepped out of the bathroom, shutting the door only to stand on the other side and try to get his head on straight. There was nothing in there with her but towels, toilet paper, toiletries and the blow dryer. He’d purposefully never left his shaving bag in hotel bathrooms when he left for the day, so she had no access to a razor. Drinking glasses were on the desk by the coffee pot. She might be able to break the mirror, but he’d hear that, and then there’d be another go round with her.
It shouldn’t take Tess long to get dry. The sound of her clothes hitting the floor, and the image of her standing naked and shivering spiked his sex-deprived body. He shook it off. Yeah, she’d already hit all the marks on his imaginary play-bunny scale of what to look for in a hot babe, but that day was never, never going to happen. Not with this chick.
She flushed the toilet. The shower came back on. When she opened the door fifteen minutes later, a very meek Tess Culver stood there, her eyes on the floor and the towel wrapped around her. His heart thudded to a screeching halt. Damn, she was incredibly sexy, her wet hair shiny and hanging straight down her back, her red lips bitten and swollen and lush and...
Gah! What now?
“I, umm, need a robe or something. My clothes are wet. I have nothing to wear.”
Oh, yeah. Dry clothes. Damn. He swallowed hard and pulled a white fluffy hotel robe from the closet. “Here. Put this on,” he ordered, trying like hell to sound like a drill sergeant to get his mind out of the gutter. She was wearing nothing but a towel, after all. “Hand me your wet clothes when you get this on. I’ll send them to the laundry. They’ll be back later this afternoon.”
“Okay, sure,” she said meekly.
Still not buying it.
She slid into the robe and let the towel fall to the floor before she turned back to her clothes. “There’s stuff in my jeans pocket I need.”
“Then get it,” he muttered, trying real hard to keep this stern routine up. Right then she looked pretty subdued, and by hell, he shouldn’t have had to go this far, but she’d pushed. She’d asked for it. Some guys would’ve done a lot worse to her in this situation.
Tess crouched to the floor long enough to retrieve her things.
“Show it to me,” he ordered when she stood, wondering how far she’d let him push her around.
Obediently, she opened both hands and offered them palms up. Four things lay there—a now waterlogged cell phone, a soggy purple nylon wallet, a tube of lipstick, and a silver crucifix on a gold chain.
“That’s all?” He had to play the bad ass. She might have already secreted something in those robe pockets.
“Yes,” she said meekly.
“Show me your pockets. All of ’em.”
She blinked at him like she didn’t know what he meant, and damn it, she had the thickest fringed lashes. The tough-guy routine is getting more and more difficult to pull off.
He leaned in to check the deep robe pockets with his own fingers. Finally. She’d told the truth, but he was in trouble. Every molecule in his masculine body had tuned to Miss Culver like pigs on grain.
Before he could step back, she leaned into him, her fingers on his chest—not what he’d expected. The damned woman was trembling. “I’m sorry,” she whispered with a sigh.
He stifled the impulse to wrap his arms around her and tell her everything would be okay, afraid she’d hear the freight train in his chest if he did.
“No, you’re not,” he threw back at her. But I sure as hell am.
Chapter Eight
“I won’t make any more trouble for you.”
Lee tipped her face away from him, but the moment had happened, and he’d been a sucker for her from the get-go. Since the first time he’d seen her run, he’d worried about the attraction he felt for her. He just couldn’t let anything else happen.
“Tess,” he ground her name out.
“Yes, Agent Hart?” For once, he detected no deceit in her expression.
“I’m calling room service. Get in bed.”
She pulled back, and he was damned glad. One more second of close contact with this enticing woman, and he’d be answering to his boss for something unbecoming of a trusted agent.
“Which one do you want me to sleep in?” she asked. He could only hope the fight had finally gone out of her.
“Take the one by the window.” Lee usually got a room with two racks in case one of the guys dropped in unannounced and needed a place to drop, but no one in their right mind would escape from a ten-floor hotel room, would they? He eyed her suspiciously. She’d gotten awfully tame in the last few minutes. That spooked him more than her cocky attitude had. Did he dare relax? Hell, no.
> Lee called room service and ordered two American-style cheeseburgers with lettuce, pickles, and the whole sesame seed buns thing, as well as two large orders of fries and catsup, a rarity in most foreign countries. Two bottles of Coke and two tall cups of ice completed the order.
When she crawled under the covers, he turned the television to BBC’s twenty-four-hour news channel. It had the most non-partisan reporting of American news he could stand, but he was wet from the bathroom escapades and tired. The cuffs had to go back on, or he wouldn’t be able to shower or get some rest. He unsnapped them from his belt and held them up for her to see.
“Can you put them in front this time?” She didn’t argue, not even once.
“I’ll do you one better.” He sat on the bed opposite hers and fastened one cuff to her right wrist. “I’ll leave one hand free so you can eat. Sound okay?”
“I guess.” She sighed.
Lee made quick use of a hot shower. When done, he changed into a comfortable pair of gray running pants and a simple gray T-shirt with USMC stamped in bold block lettering on the chest. And gray socks. Always socks.
He ran a quick hand over his hair before he left the privacy of the bathroom, going for the casual look of a man who had no one to impress. For once, she was where he’d left her and looking sleepily at the television.
But her hair was wet. That would never do.
Turning to the steamy bathroom, he snagged the last dry towel and the blow dryer. “Sit up,” he ordered, not sure if he was worried about her hair or if he needed to make a point. He was in charge. She needed to comply.
Without a single word of debate, she rolled to her side and placed both feet to the floor. When she reached for the blow dryer, damned if an idiot didn’t show up and say, “Here. Let me. I’ll do it.”
He cringed. Why did I say that? What the hell am I doing?
Her hair was a damp mess of tangles and curls, and Lee was in more trouble. He’d never dried a woman’s hair before. Didn’t even have a brush to do it properly, but he’d started this, and he’d finish it. Otherwise, she’d think she had the upper hand.
He plugged the drier into the outlet behind the nightstand between their beds. His heart commenced a steady drumming, and, if he’d really been smarter, he’d have changed his mind and rescinded his order. But no. Lee kept going.
He sat next to her, his knee pulled up on the bed while he pretended he knew what he was doing. With the first handful, he relaxed. This work wasn’t all that hard. He aimed the nozzle of the blow dryer from her scalp to the ends of each silky handful, holding it away from her head to provide the most airflow. That seemed to do the trick.
Layer after layer of black and brown tresses came to life with shimmering highlights of reds and blues mingled in with the dark. It was actually soothing how his fingers combed those tangles away until her curls were smooth. Sleek. Sexy. By the time the left side was dry, he was wishing he’d worn something a lot heavier than cotton running pants.
“Turn around so I can dry the rest of it.” He kept his tone tough, like this was just another boring job, like he wasn’t turned on when she tipped her head into his palm and sighed. Like he didn’t want to bury his fingers and his nose at the nape of her neck and kiss the hell out of her.
Once again, she obeyed. With her robe smoothed beneath her, she curled her legs under her and faced the headboard, the remaining hair just as long, damp and...
I am such a dumb ass. Man, she’s gorgeous. Why’d I start this?
He grasped another wet handful and the endurance test began anew. If Tess noticed the effect she had on him, she didn’t capitalize on it. She didn’t have to. Just the fact that she sat peacefully, enjoying the service he foolishly provided was enough to push him over the edge. Her butt ended up against his knees. He worked quicker and more efficiently before his mistake got any larger. Or thicker. Or harder.
Whew. At last. Mission accomplished. He smoothed the final handful of dark silk into place, letting it slide between his fingers as he turned the blow dryer off. One thing was sure. He’d never make this mistake again. Wrapping the cord around the blow dryer, he unplugged it and turned abruptly. The job was done, and so was he. Their breakfast of burgers and fries couldn’t get there fast enough.
He’d no more than stretched out on the other bed and pulled the blanket across his lap to conceal his frame of, umm, mind, when a knock at the door told him breakfast was served.
“Aren’t you going to get that?” Tess asked quietly when he didn’t immediately jump up and answer the door.
“Of course I am,” he barked back at her, wishing like hell it were that simple. Women didn’t understand how difficult it was for a guy to strut around the room once his manhood was alerted to a sexy female in the vicinity. A guy’s body just didn’t work that way. “Besides, they’ll leave it outside my door. I’ll get to it. Hold your horses.”
“Whatever,” she whispered.
He squeezed his eyes shut and mentally field-dressed the mule deer he’d shot in Wyoming during his last hunting trip out west. He mentally hiked the Grand Canyon again like he did the year before when he’d searched out Havasu Falls with a good buddy of his. He very methodically pictured cleaning his tactical sniper rifle, then field-stripped it, oiled it, and polished the damned imaginary thing.
Finally relaxed enough he could get on his feet, he retrieved the dining cart, and situated it between the beds. Tess swung her feet to the floor. She licked those full red lips, and two things dawned on him. He’d calmed down enough to eat, and this girl hadn’t eaten in a while. Why not? He lifted the silver cover off her plate. “You hungry?”
Silly question. As soon as she one-handedly snagged the burger, it hit those sexy red lips and mayonnaise and catsup dripped down her chin.
His mouth dropped open.
“Oh,” she moaned, licking those sinfully wicked lips. Her tongue swept over them, a luscious wet invitation he had to deny. “This is so good. So. So. Good.” She moaned again, rolled her eyes and chewed, and he was compelled to watch because, well, he was a guy, damn it. His stomach clenched. A rush of molten lava pooled in his groin. His problem sprang back to—attention.
That sassy, impertinent, sexy, red-lipped mouth of hers had him mesmerized, and his body hardened all over again. Tess wasn’t the daintiest eater. She made short work of her breakfast, moaning and grunting so much it sounded like she was having sex instead of a burger.
Lee bumped the backs of his legs against his mattress before he closed his mouth. He was certainly in the mood by the time she stuffed one dainty index finger along with the last bite of burger nearly all the way into her mouth, catching the dribble of catsup before it got away from her. He licked his lips just watching. Who would’ve guessed catsup could get a man hard? He bunched up the blanket on his lap again.
Tearing his eyes away from Tess, he grabbed his plate from the cart. The cheeseburger was decent. The fries weren’t bad either, but watching her? Priceless.
“I was so-o-o hungry,” she growled, her voice more a feline purr of pure satisfaction. “Mmm, mmm.”
He leaned back onto his pillow, hungry all right, just not so much for that burger.
“What? You’re not going to eat?” she asked, her eyes lit up with surprise.
“I am eating,” he retorted, then shoved the burger into his big mouth to prove it.
She’d moved onto fries and more catsup by then, dipping and sucking and making the most erotic noises with that mouth and—
Argh! He choked on the dry bun.
“You okay?” she mumbled over a luscious mouthful. “Need a drink?”
He nodded, still sputtering to clear his airways. “Fine,” he rasped, and then coughed some more. After gulping half of his Coke, he was able to breathe again. Thinking was another problem. Watching this gal argue with Alex had been an all-nighter, but now that he knew the secret, he made a mental note. Do feed this wild animal—but don’t hang around to watch her eat.
&nbs
p; “You gonna eat all those?” she asked, her brow raised and her eye on his plate of fries.
He held them out to her. “I’ll order more. Want a chocolate shake to wash it down?”
Those pretty eyes rolled again, and he was sure he’d died and gone to heaven. Damn. She was sexier than hell when she ate, the way she chewed, and the way those red lips turned prehensile when they got close to food. She moaned and sighed all the way through his order of fries, so he ordered another burger for himself, two more baskets of fries, and two large chocolate shakes with whipped cream and cherries on top.
“Could you, umm, get one more thing?” She hesitated before he hung up the phone.
“What else do you want?” What else was there?
“I’d die for a beer.” Those dainty brows crinkled and her shoulders ducked with the plea, and damn, he was in trouble.
“Heineken?”
Again with the died-and-gone-to-heaven eye roll. “Yes, please.”
Okay. Make that two beers on top of two chocolate shakes—not his usual way to drink beer, but okay. The alcohol might put her to sleep.
The waiter was quick with this order. Tess seemed as eager for this serving of carbs and protein as she was the last, sucking down the chocolate shake like it was water. It did a man good to see a woman eat like this, but caution lights began to flash at the back of his mind. There was a reason she was eating so much. There had to be. Was she baiting him into believing she was really this hungry or—was she really this hungry? And why hadn’t she eaten? Furthermore, how the heck could she possible eat so much? Where was a tiny little thing putting all that food?
He twisted the bottle top off his beer, offering her his chocolate shake. It went as quickly as the first. This gal was a lean, mean, eating machine, no two ways about it. At last, she opened her bottle of beer and took a swig, leaning into her pillow with a drawn-out and very satisfied sigh.
“You had enough yet?” He had to ask. The way she’d inhaled everything in sight was phenomenally amazing.
“Yes. Thank you, Agent Hart. I needed that.”
Lee (In the Company of Snipers Book 12) Page 9
