Bodyguard Rescue

by Donna Young

  He felt a strong tug at his guts, the same pull he’d experience years before and many times since. The indiscernible thread of destiny.

  It had been the weekend of the Army-Navy game. For most, the Super Bowl was the football event of the season. For the MacAlisters, it was when the Navy faced off against the Army. Roman had agreed to join the festivities once he’d discovered from Cain that Kate wouldn’t be there. Up to that weekend, he’d made it a point to be unavailable with business at the times she visited, not wanting to meet the woman whose pictures littered the MacAlisters’ Connecticut home and haunted his dreams.

  But Kate rearranged her schedule and took an overnight flight into Bridgeport, surprising her family and Roman. He walked into the living room and saw her sleeping on the couch. With that one look came a sharp yank on his soul—like a line anchoring—and in that moment he’d lost all will to fight fate.

  At least for a while.

  A few months later a car bomb meant for Cain killed Cain’s girlfriend instead, and Roman walked away from Kate, not willing to risk her life because of his choices.

  Running his hand over his eyes, he blocked out the memory, vowing to leave her again once he saved her from Threader. Hell, he’d do it a hundred times if it meant she’d be safe.

  Roman inhaled deeply, expecting the thick air of his dreams to fill his lungs. Instead, he tasted the clear crispness of the mountain’s evergreens and wildflowers. He glanced up, taking in their surroundings. The dawn sun glinted through the pines and aspens, providing plenty of light for him to see. All was quiet, except his unsteady breaths.

  Threader’s men were already on the move, Roman was sure, but he hesitated before waking Kate, finding comfort from his nightmare in her body’s warmth. Then she shifted, moving closer into the curve of his arm, causing his muscles to tighten with desire. For the first time, he realized his palm rested against the soft slope of her thigh, just under her bottom. He could almost feel the silk lines of her underwear that lay a few inches from his fingertips. It was insane, he knew, but it didn’t stop him from slipping his hand under the cuff of her shorts.

  The caress elicited a mewling sound from the back of her throat that sent his blood racing. Ignoring its trembling, he slid his other palm under her shirt, up the smooth curve of her back until he reached her shoulder blade. Applying gentle pressure, he molded her closer, taking pleasure in the soft lines fitting against him. It was what he had wanted to do that first day on the couch. And again the other night when he’d carried her up to the cabin’s loft. What he’d wanted to do every day, every moment, between the two.

  His gaze lowered to her lips and locked on their fullness. Unable to stop himself, he swept down and slowly devoured them. Savoring the sweetness. Feeding on it.

  But their texture and tang left him craving more.

  He groaned against her mouth as he moved. Keeping his hand under her, he nudged Kate onto her side, giving him the freedom he required. He traced a path over the skin of her abdomen, all the while damning himself as he made his way up to the lacy cup of her bra before pushing it aside. Her nipples firmed instantly under his touch. He checked his desire with another groan, even knowing as he did the attempt came too late. While he teetered on the brink, Kate let out a whimper, her eyes opening briefly with awareness. The passion Roman had suppressed over the years broke free, and he stepped into its backlash, allowing it to carry him over the edge.

  With a silent acceptance of a drowning man, he dipped his head. He whispered a kiss across her nipple, then he caressed the rosy peak with his unshaven jaw until it hardened into a tight bud. His body tightened and his muscles strained. Unable to wait any longer, he took the tip into his mouth, slowly circling the hardness with his tongue, before flicking hungrily over it.

  Kate awoke under a deluge of yearning, then moaned when his mouth left hers, only to gasp when the moistness touched her bare breast. Delicious shivers ran down her spine. Instinctively she leaned back and allowed him more access. He skimmed his hand down her body, over her thighs before returning to cup her breast. Her whole body seemed to be balanced on a precipice of need—until she felt it—the heat of Roman’s body, separated by mere inches.

  Suddenly, it wasn’t enough for Kate. A sense of urgency drove her as she turned toward him, arching her body into his, straining to feel every inch of hardness. In response, he grabbed her hips and pressed his groin tightly against hers. If he’d been in her, the feeling couldn’t have been more carnal.

  She writhed beneath him, while her arms slid up his throat and curved around the back of his neck. Fisting her hands into his hair, she jerked him back up to her, wanting to feel the rough caress of his tongue on hers. She felt on the verge of violence in order to fulfill a need. It scared her, exhilarated her. And when Roman complied with an urgency that matched her own, their mouths meeting in a frantic, passion-driven kiss, it overwhelmed her.

  “Babe, tell me no.”

  Kate didn’t recognize at first the person that rasped the plea against her cheek. It wasn’t Roman. She slid her mouth under his jaw, using her tongue to explore its strong lines, relishing the coarse texture of his whiskers against her lips. Their lovemaking had always been tender but restrained, at least on his part. This man shuddered in her arms with the intensity of someone close to losing control.

  Suddenly Kate wanted to see it happen. She wanted him to lose control. She ran her hand down the front of his body and felt the muscles clench as she neared the clasp of his pants. Her breath came in short gasps. His mouth grazed her earlobe before nipping at the tender flesh just underneath. Jolts of desire ran along her nerve endings.

  “Tell me to stop,” he demanded as he blazed a trail down to her collarbone. She responded by unsnapping his pants, and his breath hissed over a curse.

  “Tell me not to,” she whispered against his ear, her mouth moist against its outline, her hand poised over the zipper. “Please, Cerberus.”

  Roman stiffened and then his arms became bands of steel that wrapped around her, crushing her to him. “Damn you.”

  The amber in his eyes blazed. Kate blinked, trying to focus.

  “Damn us both,” he muttered as his mouth clamped over hers.

  Meant to punish, the kiss forced her lips apart, while his hold prevented her escape. There was something savage, almost cruel in the way his mouth took hers, bruising and unbending. Instead of being frightened, it made Kate hot—and angry. Fiercely angry. She shoved against his shoulders, trying to fight his hold. Finally he let go when her fist hit his temple. She scrambled away from him, her body shaking with fury.

  “How dare you.” She wanted to rant and rave, but instead her voice came out low, aroused. In one fluid motion he was on his feet. He took an intimidating step toward her. She held her ground. “You think you can use fear to punish me?” He halted at her words, his face set in rigid cuts like the mountain walls that surrounded them.

  “You should be scared of me, Doc—of Cerberus.” He spat out the name contemptuously. “If you know what’s good for you.”

  The warning chafed her temper. Its flare reflected in her tone. “Let me tell you something.” The arrogance of her statement gave her momentum. “I’ve lived with fear my whole life, battled it alone. Every time I step down a stairway, every time I look out a window. And, trust me, that is much more paralyzing for me than any kiss you could inflict.”

  Unwilling to think about how much she’d wanted the kiss, she fed the rage. “If you think to keep me in place, you’d better think again. Like it or not, you are Cerberus as much as you’re Roman D’Amato. And neither of you frightens me. You confuse me, yes. Anger me, definitely. But you don’t frighten me.”

  Roman went still, his body defined in clear, tense lines. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  In the dark, it was easy to ignore the environment around her but her fear wouldn’t be as simple to control while hiking during the day. He needed to know.

  “I’m acrophobic.�
�� She glared, daring him to say something, anything. She didn’t take the character flaw lightly.

  “For the love of—” He bit off the words, blowing the air out of his lungs in a long, angry breath. The effort didn’t diminish the frown on his face. “When were you were going to share your little secret? On the top of a damn mountain while you’re in the middle of an anxiety attack?”

  Kate regarded him, her stance militant as she let the question go unanswered. Why should she bother explaining herself? He didn’t understand, no one could unless they lived it.

  “The question is what are we going to do about it?” She yanked the tie from her hair.

  “We are not going to do anything. You’re going to take care of business behind that bush—” he pointed to a cluster of nearby brush “—while I break camp.” His gaze swept down. “I’ll come up with a plan while I check the damage to your feet. Threader’s men haven’t wasted any time getting on our trail.” Without waiting for an answer, he swung around and headed for the boulders. “We can’t, either. You’ve got two minutes.”

  Irked at the dismissal, Kate observed him for a moment while he scattered the branches. The only thing that held her tongue was the fact she knew he was right. Heading for privacy, her eyes searched the trees for possible danger.

  “Doc.” The name shot to her from behind, forceful enough to halt Kate but not enough to make her turn around.

  “Any more secrets I should know about?”

  “No.” Except maybe I’m falling in love with you again. The statement whispered through her mind, catching her off guard. The terrain shifted beneath her feet. Intuitively she knew the words were true. Dear God, no.

  “What?”

  She jerked at the sound of his voice, realizing she’d spoken the last statement aloud. Quickly she cleared the emotion from her throat. “No secrets.” She swung around to face him. “You?”

  Perched with one foot on a rock, his arms crossed over the knee, Roman studied her. When the sunlight glinted across the crown of his hair, her heart turned over in response.

  “Funny,” he said, before dropping his foot from the rock. “Go take care of business.”

  With her unanswered question hanging between them, she walked away, her cloth hair tie clutched in her hand.

  BY THE TIME Kate returned a few minutes later, her hair braided, Roman had finished breaking camp and was kneeling beside a rock with a small first-aid kit open beside him.

  “I can take care of my feet.”

  He leaned back on his heels, giving her room to sit on the stone. “I know you can, but I’ll be quicker.” He lifted her foot, resting it on the top of his thigh. “I don’t want any injuries slowing us down.”

  The briskness in his voice stopped her from arguing. That and the way his palm cupped the backs of her ankles when he removed her shoes.

  Kate watched in fascination as he carefully examined her feet. Both big toes had taken a beating, their sides rubbed raw, along with the back of her heels and the tips of her small toes.

  “Where did you get the shoes from?”

  “Cain’s closet,” she responded vaguely, her attention riveted to his hands.

  His thumb absently rubbed a polished toenail. The familiar caress had Kate biting her lip to keep from groaning aloud.

  “They must be your mother’s.”

  “Or a girlfriend’s.”

  He placed her foot at the top of his thigh while he opened the first-aid wipes. “Cain doesn’t take women to the cabin.”

  Before she could ask for an explanation, his muscles flexed under the pad of her foot. Little shocks of electricity shot up her calf, forcing Kate to control the urge to slide her toes up and down in a feline caress.

  “Tell me about the formula.” The words broke into her thoughts just as he raised her foot from his leg. She grimaced at the sting of the antiseptic wipe.

  “Looks like I may have found a way to slow down the process of annihilation between antimatter and matter particles.”

  He worked efficiently, cleaning and bandaging the chafed skin. Any blisters had broken long before, leaving sores. The featherlight brushes of his fingertips, as he applied the medicated cream, soothed the small injuries.

  Kate relaxed under his ministrations, enjoying the touch of his hands. They moved over her toes, across the arch of her foot and up her calf to the back of her knee.

  “What are you doing?” She snatched her leg away. “I’m pretty sure there are no blisters behind my knee.”

  He sighed. “You have a cut,” he explained in a tone an adult used on an ill-mannered child.

  Startled, Kate looked down and, for the first time, noticed that blood and dirt covered her left knee.

  Roman pulled out a pair of tweezers from the kit. “I see some pieces of grit, but don’t worry.” The smile that crossed his face was too innocent for her to trust. “I’ll be gentle.”

  Automatically Kate started to brush off some of the blood, but he pushed her hand aside.

  “Leave it.” Not waiting for a response, he bent over his work. “Why didn’t you mention this cut last night?”

  “I didn’t realize.” She shrugged. “I remember scraping it against the opening of the tunnel, but it didn’t bother me.” Quickly she bent the knee back and forth to prove her point.

  He waved the tweezers. “Why don’t you finish your explanation while I finish this.”

  Kate frowned.

  “The formula, Doc.”

  Determined to watch, she leaned her head next to his, ignoring the protest of her stiff muscles. “As I said, I may have found a way to slow down the process of annihilation between antimatter and matter particles. Controlled, the explosion or annihilation creates a productive, viable energy source.”

  With her head next to his, her female scent mixed with the soft breeze, brushing against his cheek and creating havoc with his desires. He set his teeth and tried to concentrate on his task.

  “Think of it. An energy so pure, so powerful, it could provide unlimited potential for space exploration—or environmental conservation.”

  Kate’s hair brushed his arm, making him jerk in reaction.

  “Ow!” She started to pull back, but Roman was faster. He gripped her calf, planting her foot back on his thigh.

  “Hold still,” he snapped, angry for allowing her closeness to affect him enough to make him jumpy. “And quit crowding me.”

  “I wasn’t,” she snapped right back until she caught his glaring response, then she hastily twisted her head away.

  “We would be better off if you watched the perimeter while I worked.” The logic in his suggestion must have appealed to her, or maybe self-preservation instincts took over, because soon her gaze skimmed the trees and brush.

  “How much energy are we talking, assuming your theory is correct?” Satisfied the cut was clean, he wiped the tweezers down and tossed them back into the kit.

  “A shoebox full could light up Las Vegas until our grandchildren collected social security,” she responded dryly. “Many don’t believe it’s possible.” Academic arrogance infused her next words. “I refuse to believe otherwise.”

  “But there are problems with the development.”

  Kate hesitated a moment, and Roman glanced up. He saw a brief flicker of indecision, or so he thought. It happened so quickly, he couldn’t be sure.

  “Other than supply and money, you mean?” she admitted with a laugh. “Time. Up till now, researchers have only been able to slow down the annihilation to a fraction of a second. With our new process, I’ve been able to increase the time to twenty-four hours before it destabilizes and explodes.”

  “Not long enough for an energy source, but long enough to make a good bomb.” He applied the bandage, his clipped words sounding like an accusation.

  But it didn’t stop her from agreeing. “If made portable, sure, several grams could wipe out all of Texas—plus some.”

  A low buzz rustled the leaves surrounding them. Roman’s g
aze snapped to the skies as dozens of birds took flight.

  “Let’s go!” he barked before shoving the first-aid kit into the backpack and snagging the rifle. Quickly Kate grabbed her shoes and they scrambled for denser foliage.

  Within seconds an aircraft came within sight. A tilt rotor, Roman thought grimly.

  “What is it?” Kate whispered, her breath tickling his ear. He pulled her snug against his crouched body.

  “A combat assault plane with hover and vertical landing capabilities. One that carries more men.” Roman watched the aircraft disappear over the treetops behind them. “Threader’s getting impatient and upping the stakes.” After she put her shoes on, he tugged her hand. “Time to move. We’ll eat later.”

  Before he could stop her, Kate grabbed the rifle from beside him. He recognized the stubborn expression on her face. “Give it to me, Doc.”

  “I can carry it,” she answered, slipping the strap over her shoulder.

  “It’s a wasted effort for you to tote something you don’t know how to use.” He could tell his cool, aloof answer irked her, but he didn’t care. “Besides being dangerous.”

  “I know how to respect a weapon, Cerberus.”

  He quirked his eyebrow at that remark. God, she was sassy. Mentally he stomped on the urge to kiss her, irritated with himself. “That’s not the point.”

  “Then let me carry the backpack,” she challenged, her chin stubborn and tilted.

  “It’s fifty pounds. The idea is to outdistance Threader’s men, not slow down so they can catch us.” His response held a note of impatience. “Give me the rifle.”

  “No. I’m tired of not sharing in the responsibility here.” She crossed her arms over the strap. “Do you want to stand around and argue or get a move on?”

  Roman held his frustration in check and didn’t say anything. After all, how could he tell her that he didn’t want her carrying the rifle because he didn’t like the look of her with a weapon on her back. Or how her image reminded him of a choice he might have to make.