“Could be, could be,” he said. She looked up to see a twinkle in his eye. “At least this way I know that you won’t jump up and run out the door to meet ‘Uncle Max.’ You don’t have an Uncle Max, Charley.”
It was useless to deny his accusation. He knew everything about her. In the short time they had spent together, she had bared her soul as well as her family tree to him. And he remembered.
He’s too good to lose, Charley, a little voice inside her cried. That, she told the little voice, was exactly the point of her evasiveness. She was silent the rest of the way to Reese’s apartment building on Seventy-eighth and First.
“Nice,” she said when they entered the building. The lobby was spacious and freshly painted, and her shoes clicked on the black-and-white tile floor. “This is certainly a far cry from your old place. You even have an elevator.”
“I let some of the other tenants use it on occasion,” he said as they stepped inside it. “If they promise to be nice to me.”
“I didn’t promise anything,” she said, only half-joking.
“Too late. You rode, I collect.” The elevator stopped on the third floor and he escorted her out. “I always collect.”
Silly as it was, the exchange sent a shiver down her spine. This was her last chance. He had his back to her as he unlocked his door. If she didn’t flee now, she was lost.
She didn’t flee.
Charley walked into the apartment, and she liked it immediately. The living room was large, and several windows facing south provided a great deal of light. A sofa and two armchairs sat on one side of the room, a small round table and two dining chairs on the other side. The walls were white and decorated with several colorful posters from theatrical productions—including Skin of Our Teeth.
Charley resolutely did not look at that poster, but instead watched as Reese strode to the far side of the room, where a waist-high counter separated a tiny kitchen from the rest of the apartment. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said, glancing at her as he lifted two large plates out of a cabinet. “That means you can sit,” he prompted, noting how stiff she looked.
“I’ll sit,” she said, dropping her bag on the floor, “but I won’t be comfortable.”
“Let me handle that part of it,” he said, walking back around the counter, a plate containing a sandwich in each hand.
“Maybe I won’t sit,” Charley said, jumping back to her feet. She felt so vulnerable looking up at him.
He pushed a plate into her hand. “You know, doctors have determined that food goes straight to your feet if you eat standing up. You wouldn’t want to ruin your size-five feet, would you?” He sat down at the table. Charley thought it looked as if it were meant to seat one and a half rather than two people.
“If I sit down, I might ruin something else,” she said jokingly, but she sat down. “I can feel my claustrophobia flaring up again,” she muttered.
“The only way to settle a problem is to meet it head-on,” Reese said, his face mere inches away from hers.
“I really . . . Don’t. . . think that’s . . . advisable this time.” Why was there such a shortage of oxygen? she wondered. They were only on the third floor. He lowered his head toward hers. “Your dinner ...” she reminded him, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice.
“Suddenly I’m not hungry for salami,” he said, his eyes holding her prisoner as he brushed his fingers along her cheek.
“What. . . are you hungry for?”
“You.”
The word was breathed against her mouth, and it warmed all her senses. Suddenly it was impossible to think about food. All she could think about, all she could see, was Reese.
She shouldn’t have come. She shouldn’t have come. . . . Every fiber in her being thanked her for coming.
A spellbinding eternity later, his lips touched hers. All her defenses crumbled. He had destroyed them with this third kiss. This time there were no auditioning actresses, no clandestine spies. This time there were just Reese and Charley and the uneaten hero sandwiches. The cavalry had taken the night off.
Charley threw her arms around Reese’s neck, giving up the fight. She was only human. She felt her whole body being enveloped by him, even though they were still sitting in the two low-slung wooden chairs. He rose, and she rose with him, clinging to him, clinging to this moment. She was filled with an ecstasy she had forgotten she could feel.
“Welcome back,” he whispered against her ear. “Welcome home.”
Chapter Five
Charley gave up thinking.
If all roads had once led to Rome, all thoughts now led only to Reese. Wanting him with an intensity she hadn’t believed possible, she gave in to the demands of her heart. She tried very hard not to tremble. It was a losing battle.
To still her body, she molded herself to Reese. It was like trying to extinguish a fire by adding more wood to it. Running her hands up and down his back, Charley realized that she was trying to absorb him.
“Don’t stop now,” he said when she paused. He slipped his hands into her back pockets, cupping her firm buttocks and pressing her against him.
She thought that the heat of her mounting passion would melt them both, making them flow together like a swelling river of molten lava. Every melodramatic phrase she had ever heard filled her head. It wasn’t enough. Nothing came close to describing what she was feeling at this moment.
Reese’s lips moved against hers, and his tongue slipped inside, exploring her, filling her. He knew just what to do to bring her to the edge without letting her fall over. He was born to be a lover, she thought. And he was. Hers.
“What you do to me is wicked,” she murmured breathlessly, getting the words out as best she could.
“This is just the beginning,” he promised.
She could feel the flame within her growing. “Hold me,” she cried against his mouth.
“I am.” His words were a sexy rasp that vibrated against her lips.
“Tighter,” she pleaded. Hold me so tight that no thoughts come through, she added silently.
Reese looked into her eyes, and the emotion she saw there was so intense, it almost frightened her. It also thrilled her. Tomorrow there would be spies and intrigue and danger. Right now there was only Reese. And ecstasy. Just feeling the demand of his body was rapture. There was no turning back any longer.
She lifted her mouth for his kiss again, but he surprised her by drawing back slightly. “Lady, I thought I was over you,” he said. “Finally over you. I told myself that you were just a figment of my imagination, an obsession. Something I had let get way out of proportion. And then I saw you standing there at the audition yesterday. I knew I had been lying to myself. I needed you then just as much as I ever did.” He looked directly into her eyes as he caressed her face. “More,” he breathed.
His words surrounded her, ensnaring her more surely than any physical caress. “Oh, Reese. Love me. Please, just love me.”
“I intend to,” he said, his lips gliding along the delicate lines of her neck.
Fireworks went off inside her head. Her neck had always been an erogenous zone for her. But then, her toenails were an erogenous zone if Reese touched them, she thought wryly. Her body swayed against his again.
He hooked his forefinger into the neckline of her shirt, drawing the material down and away from her. “I’ve always hated pullovers on you,” he whispered, his breath tickling the hollow of her throat.
He wove a web of kisses along her collarbone. The throbbing sensation she felt there filtered quickly down to the rest of her body. “Actually,” Reese went on, punctuating each word with a small kiss, “I’ve always hated clothes on you. You look better nude.”
A sigh was her only response as he eased the soft material of her shirt away from her ribs and worked it up over her breasts.
A flash of cold was followed by a flood of warmth as the pullover was discarded. All that was left was a lacy bra that exposed more than it hid.
Reese s
miled, warming her even more. For a moment he just gazed at her, then ever so slowly he slid his fingers over the upper swells of her breasts. He took his time reaching the bow that held the two sides of her bra. Charley felt like a bottle of champagne just before the cork is finally removed.
“What happens if I pull this?” he asked, leaning his forehead against hers. Languidly he traced a pattern around the bow in question.
“You win the prize,” she whispered.
“Which is?”
Charley didn’t know how she kept from trembling, but somehow she managed. “Me.”
“Hmm,” he said, prolonging the teasing game and driving her very nearly to the brink of insanity. “I’ve never won anything before. You mean all I have to do is pull this little magic ribbon and you’re mine?”
She nodded, suddenly unable to speak. With incredible gentleness he pressed his forefinger against one loose end of the tiny ribbon and pulled it down. It came undone and the two cups of her bra sprang apart, sliding seductively off her breasts.
He lowered his head, and she moaned as she felt the hot touch of his lips. Starting at the center of her breastbone, he forged a path to the tempting swell of one breast. As his tongue flicked across the erect nipple, she wove her fingers through his hair, holding him tightly against her. Hot flashes surged through her body, and she ached to be rid of the rest of her clothes. All she wanted to do was feel his body against hers without anything else in the way.
She eased away from him and reached for the buttons on his shirt. Standing perfectly still, he let her unbutton the shirt and push it off his shoulders. But as she began to tug the sleeves down his arms, he pulled her to him again, embracing her with restrained fierceness. Placing a hand on either side of her breasts, he cupped them together and gently rubbed his chest against hers.
“Is this what you want?” he whispered softly.
“Yes,” she breathed.
He knew, she thought. He knew every desire he aroused within her. It was as if he were the other half of her soul. With slow strokes his hands slid from her breasts to her waist, coming to rest on either hip. He moved slightly from her, so that there was just enough space between them to unsnap her jeans. The zipper slid down under his guidance, and at last he tugged her jeans and panties off. Anticipation roared in her veins as he gazed at her. His eyes seemed to consume the soft perfection of her body, and Charley found she could hardly stand. Swaying slightly, she braced herself against him. She loosened his belt, then fumbled momentarily with the catch. She could feel her fingertips throbbing as she opened his jeans and moved her hands lightly along his hard contours. Then, with one movement, she drew away his clothes. There was no more playfulness left. Playfulness was for people who weren’t starving.
Reese kicked the jeans and briefs aside, then held her against him. Fire leaped to claim every part of her being. She didn’t resist when he pulled her down to the floor. Her sharp intake of breath came partially from the effects of his kiss and partially from the fact that the wooden floor was cold. She hardly noticed that it was also hard.
But Reese pulled back. “Too uncomfortable?” he asked, looking toward the doorway of his small bedroom. “There’s the bed,” he added huskily.
She reached up and brought his head back down to hers. “Too far away,” she murmured.
He laughed despite the intensity of the moment, and pulled three pillows down off the sofa. Arranging them beneath her, he asked, “Better?”
She shook her head slowly. “Not yet,” she whispered. “Not yet.”
He knew what she meant.
There was no more talk of bedrooms or comfort. There was only the blending of two kindred souls that had been kept apart too long. Reese’s searing mouth possessed her, kissing her over and over until she was fairly out of her mind with passion and desire. Her lips were numb, yet eager for more. She couldn’t get enough of him.
He raised himself on his elbow, pushing her further into the pillows as he rolled on top of her. The pressure was heavenly, and Charley moved beneath him, responding to his loving with all her being.
He could wait no longer. With a surge of his body, he parted her legs and entered the haven that had been denied him for so long.
It was heaven. Without being really aware of it, Charley moaned softly.
“Steady,” he said, the word hot against her ear. “We have forever.”
But even in the throes of passion she knew they didn’t. She clung to him, knowing she shouldn’t.
“Now, Reese. Now,” she cried.
“Oh, Charley, Charley, I’ve missed you so,” he whispered, and took her to heights that only he could bring her to.
It was a wild, magical ride, spanning eternity. His swaying body was her only hold on reality as she soared into heaven, grasping at stars in an attempt to hold the real world at bay.
But all rides end.
Charley sighed deeply as a peaceful euphoria began to spread through her, starting at her toes and slowly working its way upward. She opened her eyes, looking at the man she knew she loved. There was no use telling herself anything else. This evening had stripped away all her delusions.
A fringe of dark hair lay plastered against his forehead. With loving fingers, she brushed it aside.
“Don’t bother,” he said. “It’ll only fall down again.”
“Again?” she asked, catching his meaning.
He nodded, his eyes shining. “Again.”
She laughed. “Your stamina amazes me,” she teased.
“You build up a lot of stamina in twelve months,” he said, tenderly cupping her face in his hands.
She stared at him. He couldn’t possibly mean . . . “Twelve months?” she asked.
He smiled at her. The admission was made without fanfare or embarrassment. It was a simple statement of fact. “I’m one of those rare men you women are supposed to be searching for. I have to feel something before I make love to a woman. Feeling-less ‘coupling’ doesn’t particularly appeal to me.” He grinned at her amazement. “There’s always jogging to tire me out.”
But her mind was stuck on his previous words. “And what do you feel now?” she asked, knowing she wanted to hear him say he loved her, knowing at the same time that it would lead to her undoing. She was a moth flying into the flame. FBI training did not go down to the core, she thought with an inward smile.
“I feel exhausted,” he confessed. “But terrific.”
“You are that,” she agreed, hiding her disappointment at his words.
“Let’s make sure,” he suggested, a devilish twinkle in his eyes. “But this time”—he raised himself to his knees and took her hand—“let’s use the bed.”
He stood, pulling her up with him, then kissed her again. The kiss was slow, rich, full. It tore out her soul.
“Still too far to the bedroom?” he asked, teasing.
“Well ...” She let the word trail off as she pressed her face against his muscular chest.
The next thing she knew, she was up in his arms.
“Never let it be said that I’m not a gallant lover,” he said with a laugh, carrying her into the adjoining room.
She rested her cheek against his chest, listening to the reassuring beat of his heart. The downy hairs caressed her skin. She closed her eyes, shutting out tomorrow and all the cold responsibilities it brought with it.
But tomorrow has a nasty habit of arriving, wanted or not.
Spent, Charley and Reese had fallen into a blissful sleep. Charley woke to see moonlight flowing like airy streamers through the open weave in the curtains. Her first thought was an anxious one: Where was she?
The anxiety that gripped her lessened as the sound of rhythmic breathing penetrated her consciousness. Reese. Wonderful Reese. The events of the night came back to her, and for a moment she let memory fill her.
She was, though, too much a professional to let herself be swept away indefinitely. A green light caught her attention, and she turned her head. The digital
clock on Reese’s nightstand proclaimed the hour to be 3:19. Hardly the time for a woman to be making her way home on the New York streets. But she had her gun and her defense training to make her feel secure. Her apartment was not that far away. Staying with Reese held the greater danger.
Charley knew she had to leave. She had done enough damage to her well-constructed defenses by letting Reese make love to her. What had happened did not change anything. Her assignment still had to be performed. Her conscience pricked her. If this was the way she did her duty when the country’s security was at stake . . . She didn’t finish the thought. At the very least she had been guilty of exposing Reese to danger.
Even so, she had to stifle an urge to touch him. She wanted to stroke his hair, to let her fingers curl about the thick, blue-black locks. But that might wake him, and if it did, there’d be no escaping him. Or her feelings. Charley quickly got out of bed.
In the living room she collected her crumpled clothes and threw them on. She was hurrying out of the apartment five minutes later, doing her best not to look back.
The dark streets held an aura of gloom about them; the city’s abnormal silence was broken only occasionally by the sound of a car. Charley forced herself to think of nothing, to concentrate on putting one foot in front of another.
A car slowed down and pulled up parallel to her. “Taxi, lady?” the cab driver called out.
He sounded awfully cheerful for this time of night, she thought, glancing at him. Every fiber of her body was suddenly alert. “No, I’d rather walk,” she said, dismissing him.
“Might be the last walk you ever take,” the cab driver cautioned, sounding friendly. Maybe too friendly, Charley thought. “You an out-of-towner?” he asked.
“No,” she answered, wishing the man would go away. She picked up her pace, but he continued to follow her.
“Then you don’t have any sense in your head,” he said. “Got a daughter like you. About the same age, too.” He paused, and Charley thought that perhaps he was giving up. But things were just not going her way lately. “Down on your luck?” he asked.
Three Marie Ferrarella Romances Box Set One Page 20
