Seducing the Colonel's Daughter: Seducing the Colonel's DaughterThe Secret Soldier

by Jennifer Morey

  She moved forward, pressing her hands on his chest and giving him a shove. Perplexed, he let her back him against the wall.

  “What are you so afraid of?” she whispered.

  “I’m not afraid.” He wished he knew what had her so riled.

  She raised up onto her toes. Eyes alive with energy, she pressed her mouth to his. The shock of it stilled him. An instant later, it inflamed him.

  He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her higher and tighter to him. Her tongue slid against his. He angled his head and took her deeper, cupping the back of her head with his hand. He felt every inch of her beautiful body against his.

  All he’d have to do is turn and put her back against the wall, lift her nightgown and push his underwear down and he could assuage this maddening lust that wouldn’t leave him alone. He could drive it out of his system. He started to do just that when she withdrew. She stepped back and he had no choice but to let her slip out of his arms.

  “Do you want me?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he rasped.

  “And then what?”

  Realizing this was a continuation of their original dialogue, he scowled at her.

  “You run off to your next mission,” she said, answering her own question.

  Because he was afraid. He got it now. He understood what she meant. He was afraid of the then what. Though it irritated him to be accused of that, he couldn’t argue her point.

  His cell phone started to ring, and he was glad to go answer it. He flicked on the television while he lifted his cell to his ear.

  “You aren’t going to believe this,” Odie said.

  He barely heard her. A breaking news report showed the front entrance of Brooks Tower, where police and emergency vehicles, lights flashing, were parked. A newswoman was in the middle of a sentence.

  “...are no leads and no witnesses have come forth.”

  “Lowe is in Denver,” Odie continued.

  “Really.” He said it sarcastically.

  * * *

  When Sabine got out of the shower, she realized she’d left her clothes in the other room. Wrapping a towel around her instead of putting the nightgown back on, she left the bathroom. It wouldn’t take long to find something to wear. Just a minute or two. She tried not to think of Cullen’s reaction to seeing her in only a towel, and ignored the lurking thought that maybe deep down she wanted him to see her like this. Her time in the shower had done little to cool what kissing him had brewed.

  She emerged from the hall. Cullen held a pistol, pushing a clip into place. He wore jeans and nothing else. Those gray eyes lifted and saw her, then lowered to take a startled journey over the towel and everything it didn’t cover. A fraction of a second later, heat wiped out any surprise.

  She stopped halfway to her bag, her hand tightening on the towel as a flutter blossomed inside her. He stood as still as she did, his bare chest smooth over hard muscle, bent arms globing his biceps, holding the gun in his big hands. He reminded her of the way he was when he’d rescued her. Clearly her brain was muddled if she found the way he held a gun sexy.

  He turned the safety on as she moved forward and came to a stop before him.

  “Did something happen?” she asked.

  “Lowe killed Aden after I left him last night.”

  That worked to dim the invisible chemistry flying between them. “How do you know?”

  “Odie told me. And it was on the news.”

  “How did Lowe know you went to see Aden?”

  “He must have seen me.”

  “Wouldn’t you have noticed that?”

  His mouth hitched up higher on one side. “I appreciate your confidence in me, but he’s probably watching us from a building. I’m guessing The Curtis hotel. I’m waiting for a room number.”

  “How did Lowe know where to find us?” she asked.

  “He didn’t. But he knew we’d come to see Aden.”

  She looked toward the window where the drapes were drawn aside, not liking the idea of being watched. “Odie can get that room number for you?”

  “If she can’t, I will.”

  She turned back to him, wondering how long they’d be stuck in this room, alone. “What are we going to do?”

  He paused. “Wait for Odie to call.”

  His hesitation and the warming embers in his gaze left her no doubt he was thinking the same as her. They were alone, with nothing to do but wait.

  He looked down where the towel left the tops of her breasts bare. She wished she hadn’t kissed him. More than helping her make a point, it fueled an already smoking passion.

  This morning he’d turned a carnation into a sex toy. The last tether of control was a weak one. She felt it hover between them. Felt him want to finish what she’d started. She held the towel with both hands, as though it would keep her from letting him.

  Without moving his eyes away from her, he leaned to his side to put the gun on the only table in the room. His muscled chest flexed and relaxed as he straightened, biceps pressing against his sides. He moved toward her and didn’t stop until he stood close. She felt her forearms brush his skin. A lovely shiver raced through her.

  Lifting his hand, he slid his fingers into her wet hair at the back of her neck. She couldn’t breathe as his head came closer.

  “I can’t stop this anymore,” he said, soft and raspy.

  The words melted through her, so mirroring the way she felt. He kissed her. She shuddered with need and strained to take more of him. Angling his head, he opened his mouth over hers. She gave him all of her.

  He curved his arm around her waist, drawing her fully against him. She let go of the towel to put her hands on him, loving the contour of muscle as she ran them up his body to bring her arms around his neck. The tickle of his hair on her skin, the warm force of his mouth on hers, his tongue making love with hers, the smell of him, it all wrapped around her senses and obliterated everything else. He gripped the towel behind her and pulled. She heard it fall to the floor. Her bare breasts pressed against him.

  He lifted her and she folded her legs around him, kissing his mouth. This was so much more intense than in Kárpathos.

  “I want you too much,” he said against her kisses, stepping toward the bed.

  The words sent emotion soaring in her heart. She kissed him, a way of answering without saying out loud the truth of what she felt. He took over the kiss, slanting his mouth over hers, meeting her passion and urging her for more.

  Her back came against the mattress. She watched him straighten and jerk at the button and zipper of his jeans, push them down his legs and kick them aside. All the while he looked at her, hungry anticipation ablaze.

  He crawled over rumpled blankets and sheets until he was on top of her. The feel of his body on hers amplified her yearning to have him inside her. He lowered himself onto his elbows, his face close above hers, eyes beaming a growing message of love. Oh, to believe and trust what she saw….

  “Cullen,” she said, sighing his name before his mouth came down to hers. She wanted to say more but held back.

  He kissed her with all the force of his passion. And she met it with her own, telling him that way.

  “Too much.” He sounded breathless. She exulted in his confession, knowing he felt something deep, that it matched what she felt.

  Trailing his lips from her mouth, he kissed her chin, her neck. His hands slid from her shoulders to her breasts. He kissed his way down, took a nipple into his mouth, then the other. His hands sank into the wet strands of her hair on the pillow. His breathing warmed her skin as he planted gentle, wet kisses along the slope of her breast, her ribs, her stomach. Then he reversed the journey, a silent reverence of unspoken love.

  He moved up from her stomach and held himself over her. Those strong arms bent to b
ring his mouth to hers. She craved kissing him. Running her hands over his warm skin, she caressed the hardness of his muscled chest and abdomen, sliding around his trim waist to his smooth back. She kissed his cheek and chin, finding her way back to his mouth, sharing the salty taste with him.

  He lifted away with a coarse breath and found her eyes with his. She died a tiny death as he slid into her. He pulled back for another wet, tight slide. She sought his mouth and he gave her another soul-moving kiss, pushing deep.

  A shiver of building heat made her whisper his name again. It drew a ragged exhale from him. He kissed her hard and quick before he drove into her with more urgency. An insatiable ache gave way to spectacular sensation that spread everywhere in her body. Sabine heard her own guttural yell.

  Cullen collapsed on top of her, his head resting beside hers. She trailed her hands down his back, letting them lie on his waist while they both caught their breaths, never more at peace. Certain for the first time that no matter where this led, no matter what happened between them, she would never have any regrets.

  Chapter 12

  Sometime during the night Sabine woke to Cullen stirring. She moaned, remembering the afternoon they’d shared, most of it right here on this bed. Realizing he wasn’t in bed with her anymore, she lifted her head and blinked her vision clear. Through the darkness she watched him shove his pistol into the holster strapped to him. He was dressed in black again. Alarm jarred her fully awake.

  She sat up on the bed. “Cullen?”

  He looked at her in that way of his. The soldier going out for a kill.

  “Where are you going?” Of course, she already knew. But after what had transpired between them, she didn’t want him to go anywhere. What if something happened to him? What if he was killed?

  “Stay here, Sabine,” he said, his eyes willing her to heed him.

  “Don’t go,” she said.

  He turned and moved toward the hall.

  “Cullen.” She couldn’t stay here imagining him killing a man. Methodically. Intentionally. Choosing that over her. His mission. This is what he did. No. Her heart wrenched with a painful lurch.

  “Please.” If he left without acknowledging the way she felt, he’d lose her. She wouldn’t compromise herself after this. It was time to take action where he was concerned. He either had to show her how much she meant to him or let her go.

  Stopping at the threshold of the hall, he put his hand on the wall and turned his head to look at her. Seconds passed and then he dropped his hand, turning to face her.

  “Sabine...”

  “Don’t go, Cullen.” She shook her head. “Not tonight.”

  Even as he sighed, his eyes softened. Then warmed as he took in the sight of her naked above the blankets. He strode slowly to the side of the bed. Leaning over, he braced his hands on the mattress and brought his face close to hers.

  “I have to do this,” he said. “Odie called. I know where to find Lowe now. I have to go before I lose the chance.”

  She curled her fingers around the strap of his holster. “Don’t, Cullen. If I matter to you at all, don’t go.”

  His mouth formed a hard line with the pitch of his brow. “What do you want me to do? Let him live so he can come after you again?”

  “This has nothing to do with Lowe. This has to do with you and me.”

  Cullen lifted his hand and cupped the side of her face. “I have to end it, Sabine.”

  She put her hand over his. “Not like this.” Didn’t he see? He would have sneaked out into the night without telling her where he was going. When he was on a mission, he tried too hard to shut her out of his mind. Well, this time she wouldn’t let him. She wanted him to acknowledge his feelings for her—and hers for him. Just once.

  As he stared at her, she could see him beginning to waver.

  “Don’t leave.” She turned her face to kiss his palm. “Don’t leave me.”

  A heavy breath sighed out of him, and he knelt on the bed beside her. Taking her face in both hands, he kissed her. Sabine felt his heart in the way he moved his mouth over hers.

  Stretching out beside her, he pulled her close and did as she asked. He stayed.

  She slept. Content and warm. In the morning she woke to something hard digging into her ribs. She opened her eyes. Her hand rested on the rough material of Cullen’s black top. The hard object was his gun. Raising her head, she saw that his eyes were still closed. His arm was around her, his hand over her hip. Her leg was between his.

  He stayed.

  Sabine studied his face while the meaning of that soaked through her, drenching her heart with love. His long dark lashes lay beneath his eyes and stubble colored his skin. His lips were soft with sleep.

  She’d asked him to stay and he had. He’d chosen her over his mission.

  She moved up and pressed her lips to his. Breath from his nose warmed her skin. His arm around her tightened. She rolled on top of him to avoid his gun. Straddling his hips, she smiled at the heat that grew in his sleepy eyes as he woke.

  Leaning over, she kissed him. His hand came to the back of her head and held her there. She pulled back and crawled down his body. She kissed his stomach through his clothes then boldly kissed the hard bulge in his pants, taking her time there, dragging her tongue over the material that blocked her from him. She raised her eyes and saw that he’d lifted his head off the pillow to watch her. His features were fierce with desire.

  She smiled at him and climbed off the bed.

  “Where are you going?” he asked gruffly.

  She laughed lightly. “I want to go shopping.”

  He sat up on the bed, quick as a big cat, and took her wrist. “Later.”

  Hooking her with his arm, he pulled her onto her back and rolled on top of her. He rose up on his knees and shrugged out of his gun holster. It thudded on the floor.

  Sabine reached up and grabbed the black material of his shirt, pulling him down to her. He kissed her, smoothing her hair back from her face.

  “See what you do to me,” he rasped.

  “Yes.” She smiled against his mouth.

  He chuckled, deeply and manly, vibrating against her stomach and chest. His laughter faded as he shifted his hips, the black material of his pants brushing against her bareness. She reached between their bodies and tugged at the button. It loosened while she looked up at him, into gray eyes full of an emotion she knew he wasn’t ready to name. His breath rushed out and he took over the task, yanking his pants down over his hips. He kissed her and found her at the same time, every hard inch shoving into her wetness.

  Sabine ran her hands over the black material of his shirt, reveling in the feel of hard muscle underneath. She continued over his shoulders and down to his chest. All the while he moved inside her, hard but slow. She closed her teeth over the muscle of his forearm through the material of his shirt as an incredible celebration of love burst between them.

  * * *

  Sabine walked beside Cullen on their way to dinner, worried by his mood. He seemed disturbed. While emotion burgeoned inside her, pushing to come out in words she longed to say, a wall seemed to be growing inside him. He’d chosen her over his mission, but he wasn’t ready to call what they made together love. They’d spent the morning in bed and the afternoon shopping. No mention of Casey Lowe had been made, though Cullen carried his gun with him, hidden in his boot.

  Passing the Paramount Cafe, Sabine heard ’80s music and stopped to listen. People sat on a patio, in front of the old stone architecture of what once was the Paramount Theatre.

  Cullen took her hand and led her to a table, and they ordered a light dinner. The old charm of the building relaxed her. After their dishes were cleared away and Cullen paid, he pushed back his chair and stood. Extending his hand, he said, “Let’s go back to the hotel.”


  She knew what he’d do once he got there. Prepare to find Lowe. She couldn’t explain her disappointment. Maybe somewhere deep inside she knew once he killed Lowe, his mission would be over, and so would they. Even after what they shared.

  “I need to find a bathroom first,” she said. The hotel was a long walk, and she didn’t think she could wait.

  He let her go. Down a hallway of terrazzo tile, she found a bathroom and went inside. She relieved herself, then bent over the sink after washing her hands to splash cool water on her face. Shutting off the water, she dried her face and hands and left the bathroom.

  As soon as she entered the dim hall, she saw a flash of metal before something hard slammed against her head. Then everything went black.

  * * *

  Cullen stood near the edge of the patio where several people talked and laughed over dinner. The feelings swimming around in him made him edgy. He was so lost in Sabine he wondered if he’d ever be able to think coherently again. The media had destroyed his company and may have cost him his career with the army. His life was in chaos. Yet, all he could think about was her.

  How had he come to feel so much for her? He didn’t want to love her. Or was it too late?

  Cullen felt the shock of the thought ripple through him. Did he love her? The intensity of their lovemaking said a lot to that end. Panic rushed him. No. He didn’t love her. Not like that. He couldn’t. He checked his watch as he paced in front of the building. What was taking her so long?

  Suddenly, he froze. Jerking his head toward the building, he looked at the door Sabine had entered.

  “No.” He ran inside.

  He searched for her but couldn’t find her in the crowd. He hurried down a hall that was disturbingly dim and pushed the door to the women’s restroom open. All the stalls were empty. No one was in the bathroom.

  His heart slammed in his chest and his breathing grew erratic.

  Back in the hall, he looked for another exit and found a door. Pushing through, he found himself in an alley. It was empty of people.

  “Oh, God,” he panted, running the opposite direction of 16th Street until he emerged in a parking lot.