by Wilde, Lori
“Roxie.” He said her name on a sigh. “I want you, need you. Now.”
She slipped her fingers through his hair, held his head still and kissed him with all the fervent intensity she had inside her. She was slick for him and he was hard for her.
His penis was so big, so awesome. She licked her lips. “Condom,” she gasped. “Where’s the condom?”
He found it.
In her desperation to have him, she snatched the condom from his hand, ripped it open with her teeth and with trembling fingers, pushed him back just long enough to roll it on.
He pushed inside of her on a rush of heat. Her muscles tensed around him, drawing him in deeper.
“You are so tight.” He groaned.
She couldn’t answer. Emotion constricted her throat. She’d always dreamed of sex like this—wild and hungry and brilliantly good—but this was so much more than she’d ever bargained for. With each fevered thrust she wanted more. Wanted him deeper.
Dougal twisted his hips, rocking deeper and deeper into her softness. Her mind was mush. Colors, sounds, sensations flashed in her head. Nothing had ever felt like this before.
This was unique. This was Dougal. This felt like the missing piece of the puzzle.
Her body tingled from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. She bucked her hips up to meet his thrusts, ran her hands over his sweat-slicked skin, dug her fingernails into his muscles.
He expanded inside her, growing larger and harder until he occupied all of her. She was his. Owned, claimed, possessed.
Yes.
Every other thought left her head. There was only room for him.
She wrapped her legs around his waist pulling him in deeper still. His fierce, insistent thrusts pushed her to the limits of her endurance.
They were perfectly in tune. Coupled. It was as if they’d known each other centuries instead of for just a few short days. As if she’d been waiting for this man her entire life and her life until now had been nothing but a dress rehearsal.
Unerringly he seemed to know her body. Where she ached to be stroked, how she liked to be kissed, what areas begged for pressure, which ones hungered for a soft touch.
Every stroke took her higher and higher toward her ultimate goal. It was fierce, basic, extreme, elemental. She cried his name over and over until tears rolled down her cheeks.
It was too much. Too wonderful. She didn’t deserve this kind of pleasure—not when she was lying to him about who she was.
“You’re crying,” Dougal whispered and stopped moving. “Roxie, what’s wrong? Am I hurting you?”
“No, no.” She smiled at him. Emotion clogged her chest, made it hard for her to draw in air. “You’re making me very happy.”
“These are good tears?” He looked confused.
“The best kind,” she sniffled.
He made a noise low in his throat and kissed tears from her cheeks as he began moving inside her again with soft, determined strokes.
“Ah,” she murmured. “That feels so good.”
He quickened his pace. They were all slippery mouths and sweaty bodies, high-speed lust.
Then he pulled his mouth from hers and flung his head back, groaning as he let out a cry of raw animal pleasure. The power of his climax took her so completely that Roxie’s immediately followed.
She was tumbling, tripping, rolling into the orgasm as if it had always been her fate. She heard his groan and knew he was following her into the abyss, rocking and pumping and thrusting.
“Roxie,” he called out, and the sound of her name on his lips changed her forever.
11
ALL THE WAY BACK to the Eros resort, Roxie floated on a cloud of postcoital bliss. The rays of the sun glowed brighter; the air smelled sweeter; the birds’ song sounded more melodic. She had no idea sex could feel so joyful.
She sat at the back of the bus, lazily watching Dougal while Jess and Sam chatted gaily about their afternoon with their friends. She didn’t hear a word they said. All she could think about was Dougal.
And then a small fissure of worry settled into the center of her chest.
This feeling was too good. Too perfect. Soon she would be leaving England, going back to her job at Getaway Airlines, never to see Dougal Lockhart again.
She found the notion far more disturbing than she should. He was nothing more than a fling. She knew that. And yet, she couldn’t stop herself from wanting more. The man had gotten under her skin, and the thought of quitting him made her feel panicky. Now that she’d found him—learned what great sex was really all about—she was just supposed to give him up?
Roxie whimpered inwardly. She didn’t want to, but what kind of future could she have with this man when their entire relationship was built on a lie? He didn’t even know who she really was. Everything between them had been an act. A role she’d been playing. Was that what had made the sex so good? The fact that she’d stepped outside of herself and donned a wild-woman persona?
She reached up to trace a finger over the comedy-tragedy necklace at her throat.
Who was she behind the emotional mask? Mild-mannered Roxie from Brooklyn? Or the sort of bold, brazen woman who made love in a field of wildflowers with a man she barely knew?
Although she’d only known Dougal a week, this chemistry between them ran deeper than physical desire. She’d never felt this kind of connection with anyone; it was as if he really saw her for who she was. He knew who she was at her essence and she knew him just as well. She couldn’t explain it. She simply accepted that it was true.
Dougal possessed a cautious and guarded nature, but in spite of all that, she’d been able to slip past his defenses and he’d slipped past hers.
He caught her gaze as she got off the bus with the rest of the guests and her heart swooned. He winked.
Be cool. Don’t show what you’re feeling. You don’t want to get him in trouble.
But she couldn’t help herself. She winked back, sharing their little secret.
Roxie didn’t know what was going to happen between them once the trip was over. Most likely nothing. But she wasn’t going to let it stop her from enjoying the game right now.
Her sense of fun was shattered, however, when she returned to her room and checked the voice mail on her cell phone. Porter Langley had called. Three times. She pushed the button to review the letters in her mailbox.
“Roxie? Why do you have your cell phone turned off? Call me.”
“Roxie, it’s Porter again. Where are you? We need to talk.”
“I really need to talk to you today. Call me back as soon as you get this message.”
Sighing, she kicked off her shoes, plunked down on the big four-poster Tudor bed and punched in her boss’s number.
“Where have you been?” Porter asked the minute he picked up the phone.
“Hello, Mr. Langley.”
“I’ve been trying to call you all day.”
“I’ve been out on an excursion.”
“I’m not paying you to have a good time. Take your cell phone with you and keep it turned on.”
“Now how dumb would that be?” she asked. “I wouldn’t be incognito if I had to stop and answer a call from my boss every five minutes. What’s so urgent?”
“Okay, okay, you’re right. Listen, you know I’m in the process of courting Limerick Air.”
“Yes.”
“Well, they were all gung-ho last week. We were this close to inking a deal, and suddenly they’re acting coy, not returning my calls, being evasive when I do talk to them. My gut tells me they’ve got another suitor and I’m pretty sure it’s Taylor Corben,” he said.
“So what do you want from me?”
“Find out for sure. If I know what’s going on, it will give me more leverage.”
“How am I supposed to do that?”
“Talk to the staff at Eros. Snoop around. See what you can dig up. You have my full permission to do whatever it takes. Even if that means bending a few rules or even
breaking a few laws.”
Roxie blew out her breath. “I’m really not comfortable with this. I’m having second thoughts about this whole thing. I hate lying and spying and—”
“It’s too late for regrets,” her boss snapped. “You’re in this up to your neck. Find out if Taylor Corben is in negotiations with Limerick Air or you can kiss that PR position goodbye.”
That’s fine, tell him you quit. You’re a good assistant. You can get a job anywhere. Don’t let him intimidate you. You’ve already compromised your values. Stop before it’s too late to come back.
But as much as she might want to do that, she knew she couldn’t. Stacy was depending on her. She swallowed hard. “I’ll do my best.”
ROXIE FIGURED THE INFORMATION she needed could be found in the resort’s main computer room. The investigating she’d done to date told her that the staff who worked inside the room went home at five. It would remain empty until the following morning, although getting into the room would require a little breaking and entering.
The thought of crossing the line from spy to burglar made her stomach hurt. You’re not really a burglar, she tried to convince herself. You’re just breaking in, you’re not stealing anything.
Who was she kidding? She was stealing information. It might not be physically tangible, but it was theft all the same.
She wrestled with her conscience, torn between calling up her boss and telling him to go to hell, and the very real fact that if she lost her job, Stacy would be forced to drop out of college.
It’s almost over, whispered her practical voice that had gotten her through many tough times. Just grit your teeth and get Porter the information he wants. You’ll be on your way home in a few days and then you can put this whole thing behind you.
Of course the biggest question weighing on her mind was how to get by the locking mechanism on the door, which was like the ones used on the bungalows. They opened with an electronic key card. She’d need one to gain entry. The housekeeping staff wore their master keys on lanyards around their necks. Somehow, she was going to have to steal one.
Fresh anxiety deepened the pains shooting through her stomach and she pressed her palm against her belly. Her mind spun and she felt guilty, guilty, guilty.
If Dougal knew what she was up to…She hitched in a breath. He’d be so disappointed in her. She was disappointed in herself.
Just do it, get it over with.
Squaring her shoulders, she left her bungalow under cover of darkness and crept into the main building, her mind working out the details of how she was going to get her hands on one of the master key cards that would give her entry to the computer room.
It turned out that luck was with her. She found a housekeeping cart parked outside the computer room and the door propped open with a mop. She wouldn’t have to steal a key card after all. She could slip in while the housekeeping staff was inside and find a place to hide until they left.
Still, her pulse was pounding as she eased past the mop and into the room crowded with computers and other office equipment. She heard someone cough in the room beyond the main one she’d just stepped into.
Quick, find a place to hide.
Frantically, she cast her gaze around the room and spied what appeared to be a free-standing metal supply closet with double doors. On tiptoes, she darted toward it and then twisted one of the handles. A hinge creaked. Heart pounding, she thrust herself inside with the copy paper, toner, paper clips and staples and pulled the door closed behind her. She held her breath, waiting, her heartbeat thumping loudly in her ears.
After a few seconds she slowly let out her breath, gathered up her courage and pressed one eye to the thin crack between the two doors. A minute passed, then another. Just when she thought she couldn’t stand the suspense a second longer, she saw a man in a housekeeping uniform toddling around emptying the trash cans. What seemed like an eternity later, he finished up his duties, picked up his mop, clicked off the light.
Roxie stayed put for a bit longer, making sure he was truly gone. Then she eased from the closet. Her breathing had slowed, but her legs were shaking. She went to the nearest desk, clicked on a light and quickly scanned the papers stacked there. Nothing of interest. She moved to the next desk and then the next. She didn’t have a system and she wasn’t really certain what she was looking for or where to find it. At this rate, she’d be here all night.
Sighing, she plopped down in a chair at the last remaining desk and played the flashlight over the papers there. A green file marked Confidential caught her eye. She picked it up. The file was sealed. Did she dare open it?
Put it down, move on, directed her conscience.
But what if the very thing she needed was inside the file folder?
Knowing she really had no choice, she reached for the letter opener sticking from the container full of pens and pencils by the side of the computer monitor. With trembling fingers, she slid the letter opener underneath the sealed flap and sliced it open. She pulled the document from the file.
It took a second for her to realize what she was reading, but when she did, she understood she was facing another big dilemma.
The documents were copies of confidential financial reports about Taylor’s company intended for the director of IT. These were proprietary details that would cause her boss to salivate. Should she tell him or not? That was the loaded question. She could keep her mouth shut and he would never know she found it. On the other hand, delivering this kind of information would guarantee her that promotion.
Pushing back the guilt chewing her up inside, Roxie stuffed the documents in the file folder, then stood up, lifted her blouse and shoved the folder into the waistband of her jeans. She pulled her blouse back down. Her palms were sweaty and her heart was thumping faster than ever. She needed to get out of here before she was caught.
Just as she was about to shut off the light, she noticed a calendar on the wall with something scrawled across the bottom of it. Squinting, she stepped closer to read: Taylor arrives May 22 for a stopover on her way to Dublin.
Bingo. Here was proof that Taylor was heading for Ireland.
Roxie had found out far more than she’d bargained for.
DOUGAL WALKED THE CORRIDOR of the Eros resort, his nostrils filled with the sexy smell of burning incense, his ears teased by mood music, his mind wrapped tightly around Roxie. He’d come back from the trip to Cambridge in a daze, his body achy in all the right places, and he couldn’t seem to stop smiling. It was almost 11 p.m., and most of the guests had retreated to their cottages for the evening.
After getting back from the day trip, he’d had a meeting with Gerry McCracken. There’d been no further incidents of sabotage, and Gerry was of the mind that the incidents weren’t related, but Dougal wasn’t so sure. Still, there was no evidence that tied the autopilot problems on the plane to the tampered spotlight or the beheaded water sprinklers. And by now he was completely convinced that if someone was behind the incidents, it wasn’t Roxie.
That feeling of certainty stirred other feelings inside him, tender feelings that urged him to take another risk on love. With Roxie, he was finally willing to let go of the foolishness he’d felt after Ava’s betrayal and take a chance on the chemistry that sizzled between him and Roxie. The trick was taking that first step and admitting to her that he wanted more.
He’d taken his dinner with the guests, and after the meal was over he made his rounds of the resort, on the lookout for anything suspicious. He found nothing out of the ordinary, and he was debating whether or not to show up at Roxie’s cottage when he heard a door open, saw a swath of light fall onto the marble floor.
Not just any door, but the door leading to the nerve center of the resort—the main room that housed the computer systems, which should have been locked at this time of night. Was someone working late? Or could it be the cleaning staff?
Then a shadow crossed the doorway and the light clicked off.
The hairs on Dougal’s neck
lifted and his gut squeezed. Something wasn’t right. He stepped back into an alcove where he could watch the room without being seen. He held his breath, waited. Someone emerged.
Dougal narrowed his eyes. It was a woman—medium height, curvy, jet-black hair. She pulled the door closed behind her, looked furtively up and down the corridor and then turned for the exit.
He stepped from the alcove and called her name. “Roxie.”
AT THE SOUND OF HER NAME, Roxie froze.
Footsteps hurried toward her.
Okay, don’t panic. Act cool and calm. She coached herself, slipped into the role and turned to face Dougal.
“Hi!” She smiled brightly. Did she sound too cheerful? Was she trying too hard?
“Hey,” he said softly, but his eyes looked troubled. “What are you doing here?”
“Um…I was just out for a walk.”
“Did you need something?” He glanced toward the door of the office she’d just exited.
“Er…no…um…I was walking by and saw that the office door was open,” she lied, cradling her arms across her chest so he couldn’t see the outline of the file beneath the blouse.
“No one was inside,” she went on, “so I just turned out the light and closed the door.”
He looked as though he did not believe her.
“So,” she said, anxious to distract him. “Where are you off to?”
“I was coming to see you.”
“You were?”
He smiled. “I was hoping you were free for the evening.”
“Um…” Her body yearned to be with Dougal again, but she was feeling far too guilty. Plus, she wanted to get this information to Mr. Langley straightaway and tell him that she’d more than delivered on her promise and now she wanted out of the spying business. “It’s pretty late, maybe tomorrow night.”
His eyes darkened with a meaning she could not read. “Okay.”
“I had a good time today,” she said.
“As did I.”
If that was the case, why did he look so stiff and why did she feel so leaden? They stood looking at each other. The moment was awkward and tense. She wasn’t sure what she should do or say next.
