Faith caught her breath at the sweet contact. Cort angled his head so their mouths pressed more firmly together. She’d spent the last twenty minutes berating herself for standing there gawking while he was naked. Now, with that vision fresh in her mind, it was easy to give herself up to his kiss.
He smelled of soap and male skin. Her hands brushed up and down his back, then held on to his shoulders. The tip of his tongue delicately touched her bottom lip. The damp caress made her lips part instantly. She liked the feel of him, the way he held her close. She liked—
His tongue touched hers. Her mind exploded in a conflagration of sensation, as if someone had set a match to dry tinder. Fire raced along her arms and legs. Need followed, making her ache and hunger with a power that frightened her. His tongue swept inside her mouth. She responded to each stroke, surging against him, trying to pull him closer. Her fingers clutched at him, touching his damp hair, then moving rapidly up and down his spine. Her chest grew tight and her breasts throbbed with each heartbeat.
He moved to kiss her jaw, then down her neck to the top of her shirt. He nibbled at her sensitive skin and bit her earlobe. She gasped and arched her head back, needing more.
Both his hands moved to her waist, then reached up toward her aching breasts. She tried to lean back to give him room to move, but he bent down and claimed her lips again. This time she was the aggressor, pushing her tongue into his mouth. As she tasted his heat, his hands cupped her breasts.
She froze, unable to believe the glorious tingling that swept through her. Her hips surged toward his, and she felt the length of his desire press against her jeans-clad core. She rhythmically moved her hips. His matched the thrusting as his fingers swept over and around her breasts. Her nipples puckered in anticipation. Her hands gripped his waist. He shifted, and she felt his towel fall away.
As she reached down to slide her hands across his bare buttocks, his fingers brushed her hard nipples. She moaned her pleasure. He gently squeezed the sensitive points, then pressed slightly. Her head lolled back. He kissed her neck, leaving a wet trail from her jaw to her shirt collar.
It had never been like this, she thought hazily, as his hands pulled her shirt from her jeans. She’d never been so ready, so hungry for a man. There was an honesty to their mating. No words or empty promises, no false pretense. Just a man and a woman with a need too large to be ignored.
He pulled up her shirt and deftly unhooked her bra with one hand. She stroked and squeezed his firm buttocks. He surged against her. As he cupped her bare breasts and his thumbs teased her nipples, she shifted on the stool, bringing her center more firmly against him.
He breathed her name. Supporting her hips, he drew her legs around him. Fire burned in his brown eyes. The lines of his face tightened as he reached for the waistband of her jeans. She’d only had two lovers in her life. Each of the physical relationships had begun slowly, awkwardly, with fumblings and bumped noses. Neither had been as right as this primal mating.
He unfastened the first button. Faith leaned forward and kissed his bare chest, tasting his warm skin. She licked his nipples, making him squirm. Inside, the wanting grew until she knew she would perish from the need. She wiggled her hips impatiently. He grabbed the zipper and tugged it down. As he reached his hand inside her jeans, he lurched suddenly.
Faith straightened and wrapped her arms around his waist to support him. He grabbed for the counter. Their eyes met.
“Guess the leg isn’t a hundred percent,” he said hoarsely, glancing at his bandaged calf.
She nodded slowly. Self-awareness returned, pushing away the passion.
“We can continue this upstairs,” he said.
She bit her lower lip. Could she? Mate like one of the cats, without thought or concern for anything save pleasure? She’d never known how people did that. Both her lovers had claimed possession of her heart before she’d given her body. Unfortunately, after taking the latter, they were no longer interested in the former. She looked at Cort, at his nakedness, the proof of his need thrusting toward her. She wanted him. But was that enough? He was like the snow leopards. Beautiful, wild. Something to admire from afar, but never claim.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
He swallowed hard, then touched her chin, forcing her to look at him. “I understand. No hard feelings.”
“Thank you. Maybe we can just forget it.”
One corner of his mouth lifted up in a smile. “You go ahead, Faith. I don’t want to forget.”
Chapter 7
“This is really great,” Cort said, slicing off another bite of beef.
Faith toyed with her food, but didn’t bother looking up or answering. It was the third compliment in ten minutes. So much for forgetting about the kiss.
It was all her fault. She shouldn’t have kissed him back. She shouldn’t have let him know how he affected her. She shouldn’t have let him kiss her in the first place. She sighed. She shouldn’t have stared at him when she’d seen him standing there naked.
The round oak table sat in an alcove of the kitchen. Behind her were the two professional stoves, the triple sink and expensive refrigerator. She’d wanted to run back to the compound and hide out in her office. With dinner already cooking and work she couldn’t put off any longer, she’d had to stay. An hour had passed and she was still shaken.
She glanced at him. Cort was looking at her. The fact that he was dressed and sitting there as calmly as if nothing had happened didn’t help. She wanted to turn away and hide. She wanted to stop the blush she could feel heating her cheeks. Instead she put down her fork and drew in a deep breath. They had to work together. He seemed to be handling what had happened exactly as she’d requested. Despite his claim to the contrary, he seemed to have put the entire event out of his mind.
“You must think I’m completely inept,” she said at last.
He shook his head. “I don’t think you’re inept. I think you’re very honest and you make a great pot roast.”
She smiled slightly. “It’s a tri-tip.”
“Whatever. Do you want me to apologize?”
“Do you want to?”
“No. I’m not sorry.” He leaned forward across the table and took her hand. “We’re working in close quarters. We’re both without significant relationships in our lives. I find you very attractive. It’s perfectly natural.”
She wasn’t especially petite, but his wide palm and long fingers dwarfed hers. He said it was perfectly natural. She wished she could believe it was nothing more than hormones and circumstances.
“You’re right,” she said, withdrawing her hand from his and picking up her plate. She rose and walked over to the sink. “I know it didn’t mean anything. Is Jeff going to get you the necessary security people?”
He set his plate next to hers on the counter. “All taken care of. He’ll also run a last-minute check on any changes in the guest list, along with substitutions in the catering staff.”
She ran water and rinsed the dishes. After pouring them each coffee, she returned to the table. He picked up a pad of paper and sat in the chair next to her.
Working quickly, he drew a rough floor plan of the house. “Tell me what happens at one of these parties. How are the rooms set up?”
She leaned over the drawing and pointed. “We put chairs and sofas in conversation groups.”
He sketched them in. “Like this?”
“Yes. The buffet is in the dining room. The big table runs lengthwise. We have a wet bar in both parlors. The cats are brought into the study through the French doors. That’s why we use that room. They don’t have to walk through the crowd.”
He asked her questions about the party. As they worked together, she felt some of her embarrassment ease. Every now and then their arms would brush, or his breath would stir a loose hair or two at her temple, and then her body would quiver with awareness. She watched him speak, the way his mouth moved, the flash of white teeth. She remembered the feel of that mouth on hers. Had it only been an hour or
two before? It seemed longer.
“What about the guests themselves? Everybody I checked out was rich, right?” he asked.
“We invite a few members of the press. A couple of old friends of Edwina’s. Otherwise, yes.”
He leaned back in the kitchen chair and placed his hands behind his head. He raised one ankle to the opposite knee. “You could find yourself a wealthy husband, and all your worries about the snow leopards would be solved.”
She smiled. “We don’t get a lot of single men at these functions. All of them are married, most of them are elderly. Feisty executive types don’t have much time for wildlife.”
“You’ve never been tempted?”
“By one of them?” She shook her head. “Not really.”
“And you’ve never been married?”
“No. What about you?”
He folded his arms over his chest. “Never. I travel fastest when I travel alone.”
“Where exactly are you going?”
She’d meant the question to be humorous, but he took it seriously. “Wherever they send me. It’s not right to have a wife and kids in this business. Look at what happened to Jeff. Losing Jeanne almost killed him.”
“But while she was alive, they had something very special.” He raised his eyebrows. “Such as?”
“A relationship. A close bond between a man and a woman.
You’ve never been tempted?” she asked, repeating the question he’d asked her.
“Not my style. When I go out on assignment, that’s all I can afford to think about.”
She leaned forward and rested her arms on the table. “Why do you do it?”
“It’s my job. All I’ve ever wanted to do. Fight the good fight.”
“But it’s not a war. Don’t you get lonely?”
He waved his arm to take in the large kitchen and the big house behind that. “You want to compare life-styles?”
That jab hit home. She stared at her hands.
“Faith, I’m sorry.” He leaned forward and deliberately bumped her elbow with his.
She looked up at him. The cut on his chin had almost healed. He would carry a scar as a reminder of that mission. Goldblond hair tumbled across his forehead. She wanted to brush it back, but she didn’t. It wasn’t her place.
He bumped her again. “I have a hard time answering personal questions.”
“I understand. People ask me strange things, too. They don’t understand my commitment to the cats. I guess it’s similar to how you feel about what you do.”
“Friends?” he asked.
She nodded. “Friends.”
Cort resisted the need to tease her until she smiled. It was the easy way out, and for once, he didn’t want that with a woman. There was something fundamentally honest about Faith. She didn’t play games. When she made a decision to do something, she did it without reservation.
Which made her reaction to their kiss all the more interesting. He’d expected to be turned on by touching her. He hadn’t expected to be consumed by white heat. Even thinking about his tongue in her mouth and her breasts in his hands was enough to get him hard again. If his bum leg hadn’t given out on him, who knows what would have happened. He wasn’t sure if he was grateful for the interruption, or mad as hell.
He looked around at the drinking glasses Faith had stacked on the counters. She’d already gone over the menus and approved the liquor list. Setting up the fundraiser was an incredible amount of work. She never even batted an eye.
“I told Jeff we’d be keeping the cubs under guard during the party,” he said.
“That’s a good idea. Too many people would upset them. Even though most of our guests are aware of the dangers with the cats, even the domesticated ones, most can’t resist wanting to pat a ‘kitty.’”
He rotated his arm and looked at a healing bite. “Those tiger cubs aren’t close to domesticated.”
“They’re sweet.”
“They have very sharp teeth.”
She smiled. He’d seen her smile dozens of times, but the way it changed her whole face—brightening her eyes and making her look pretty—never failed to surprise him.
“They’re supposed to have sharp teeth. They’re carnivores.”
“Will they be released into the wild?”
She sipped from her coffee mug, then set it down. “They can’t be. Aside from the fact they won’t have the skills to feed themselves, we have taken away their very necessary fear of humans. Besides, their white coloring would put them at a disadvantage. They’ll be safe in captivity.”
“You don’t sound very happy about it.”
“Are you?”
He thought about the cubs, the way they were starting to follow him around. They recognized his voice and were always willing to play. He had to admit they didn’t look right behind the bars of a cage.
“I guess not.” He rose from his chair. “Come on. I’ll help you count plates.”
Once in the pantry, he climbed up on the stool and began handing down dishes. He told himself he was crazy, but he could swear he smelled the lingering scent of their desire in the small room. If he closed his eyes, he would be able to taste Faith’s sweetness and feel her responsive body trembling next to his. He banished the memories. If he closed his eyes he would fall off the stool and break his fool neck. Then he’d be useless to Faith and Jeff.
But for once the thought of his job and what he couldn’t remember didn’t tie him up in knots. It was coming back to him. Slowly. And now he knew he hadn’t killed Dan.
Faith took the salad plates and carried them into the kitchen. “That’s a hundred,” she said. “We need another fifty.”
He passed her a stack of ten. She took them and set them on the counter. Her arm muscles flexed with the movement. She wasn’t anyone’s idea of an ornament. She’d been wild in his arms. What would she be like in bed?
“How come you never married?” he asked.
She looked up, obviously surprised by the question. “I’ve never been asked.”
“Was there anyone serious?”
“A boy in college. I’d thought—” She took another stack of plates and set them on the counter, then counted. “Ten more, please. I’d thought we might, you know. But after graduation, he sort of disappeared.”
“What do you mean ‘disappeared’?”
“Left without saying goodbye. Packed up and moved away. We had a date and he never showed. I went to call him and the phone was disconnected.” She picked up the salad plates and walked into the kitchen.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
His initial flash of outrage made him want to find the man and punch him out. He stepped off the stool and picked up a stack of dishes. Who was he to cast stones at the guy? He thought about his own past. Had he done any better?
He was about to ask another question, but when she came back she wouldn’t meet his eyes. There was something sad about the set of her mouth, as if remembering the past was painful for her. Clumsy bastard, he told himself.
She cleared their mugs off the small table in the alcove and set them in the sink. “What about you?” she asked. “You can’t always have traveled alone.”
He should have expected the question. Normally he didn’t talk about himself, but he owed her. “There was someone once,” he said, hoping it would be enough.
Faith leaned against the counter and looked expectant.
“We broke up,” he said, and went back for more plates.
Faith followed. “You must have loved her very much.”
Cort started pulling down dinner plates and slamming them on the counter without worrying about their breaking. Why did it always come down to loving someone? For once, he wanted to blurt out the truth. No, he hadn’t loved her. She’d been convenient. He’d been young and horny and she thought the world of him. In the end, he couldn’t wait to leave her. He hadn’t loved her, because he hadn’t loved anyone. Even then he’d known it was faster and safer to travel alone.
&
nbsp; He opened his mouth to finally speak the truth. “I—”
Faith’s blue eyes widened. In the muted light from the kitchen, her skin looked smooth and soft as satin. He already knew how it tasted. She could control a three-hundred-pound leopard and face down wild jaguars without batting an eye. But he saw the wistful expression on her face, and he knew that under the tough facade she was a romantic dreamer who still believed in love and happily-ever-afters. Her commitment to the cats proved it. He could kill if it were required, but he couldn’t destroy her dreams.
“Yes,” he said. “I loved her very much.” The lie tasted heavy and bitter. He wanted to call it back and speak the truth, but the moment passed as she nodded.
“You’ve never forgotten her. I know what that’s like. Not for me. If someone had loved me like that, well, he would be here with me.” She sounded sad. “My father loves a woman like that. Not my mother. His second wife. When I was growing up, my father traveled on business. He was gone a lot, and we had to move with his job. My mother and I begged him to find another line of work. Something that would keep us all together.” She leaned against the pantry counter and traced a circle in the center of the top dinner plate. “But he wouldn’t.”
She looked up at him and smiled. “He was a little like you. He wanted to go his own way. When my mother died, he put me in boarding school for a couple of years. I didn’t want him to leave me there. He told me it was the only way.”
Cort perched on the stool. “Then what happened?”
“He met another woman. She’s different from my mother, but nice.” Faith smiled faintly. “I like her. She told my father if they were going to get married, he would have to change his ways. He did. They live in Vegas. He works for a casino. They have three little girls and he’s there for them every night. He goes to soccer games and school plays.” She drew in a deep breath and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “All the things he didn’t have time for with me.”
“Faith, I—”
“Don’t apologize,” she said. “I’m not angry. I guess I envy them. What my father has with my stepmother. What Jeff had with Jeanne. It must be wonderful to be so special to someone. To have that bond. I wanted to but I’ve never been able to find anyone who could love me back. I understand why you can’t forget her, Cort. She must have been an incredible woman.”
Tempting Faith Page 11
