by Cindy Dees
She whirled abruptly and he almost ran into her. She glared up at him, her hands planted on her hips. "I don't give a damn if you're a hero or not, Tex Monroe. I was only trying to save your life, you sanctimonious bastard!"
Oh.
He stopped. And blinked.
Her eyes snapped like sparks flying off a sword, hot and deadly. She was serious.
"Why?" he asked, feeling stupid.
"Because you've saved my life a hundred times already. Because I don't want to see your own need to be a hero destroy you like it did my father. Because…because I care about you, dammit!" She spun away and splashed the last few yards to the shore. "How in the bloody hell am I supposed to dry myself off without a towel?" she demanded irritably from the grassy bank.
He answered distractedly, "Lie down in the sun and air dry."
She cared for him?
The thought whirled around in his head with the force of a revelation. How could that be? They were so different, came from such different worlds. She was so classy, so elegant. Country clubs and cocktail parties. He was all about crawling around in filthy jungles after criminals. What in blazes did a guy like him have to offer to a woman like her?
Dazed, he flopped down beside her in the soft grass. A shaft of sunlight warmed his skin. After the icy chill of the water, it felt great. He threw an arm over his eyes to block the bright light.
What in the hell was he supposed to say in response to something like that? He cared for her, too?
It was the truth, but did he dare admit it to her? Did he dare give her that much power over him?
"Tex, would you do something for me? Could you…Never mind." Her voice trailed off without finishing the question.
What was she going to ask of him? To kiss her? To make love to her? To tell her he felt the same way? What did she really want from him?
"What were you going to ask?" he prompted.
"I was going to ask if you'd mind checking me for leeches."
Leeches? So much for declarations of his feelings. Man, did he feel stupid. A snort of laughter escaped him. "Sure. No problem."
He hoisted himself up on one elbow and looked down at her, stretched out on the ground beside him. Good Lord, she was beautiful. Her skimpy lingerie clung to her, half dry, more tempting than just about anything he'd ever seen before. Belatedly, he checked her front for any sign of a leech.
"Roll over on your stomach so I can have a look at your back," he ordered gently.
She rolled toward him, bringing her almost into direct contact with his entire torso. His body responded with a powerful surge of white-hot lust.
He rose up on his knees beside her, fighting an overwhelming urge to leap on top of her and take her. His gaze skimmed the length of her body. No telltale brown smudges.
He placed his hands on the middle of her back.
She jumped and he murmured, "I'm going to check underneath your bra strap. Make sure nothing got under it."
She nodded, her face buried in the crook of her arm.
Her skin was warm to the touch. Like satin. He started in the center of her back, running his hands outward, underneath the elastic band of her brassiere.
He continued his explorations around her sides, underneath her arms. She took in a sharp, light breath and held it. He paused, giving her a chance to tell him to stop. But she remained silent, her face hidden.
Slowly he eased his hands farther around her, underneath her bra. The swelling flesh of her breasts came under his fingers. His gut throbbed with need and his male flesh went rock-hard. Her only response was to lift her chest slightly off the ground.
They still had a little time before they had to go. Enough time, to be precise. She moaned and his hands swept forward, cupping her breasts entirely in his hands. He skimmed over them, encountering nothing but the silkiness of her skin. He tweaked her nipples gently, and they tightened instantly into hard little nubs of desire. Kimberly took another light, short breath.
He tested the weight of her breasts in his hands, massaging them and molding them lightly. He rubbed his fingers in circles around the tight tips, until she arched her back even more, lifting her breasts even farther off the ground, giving him even fuller access.
He teased her flesh lightly at first, and then with more pressure until she fairly gasped with pleasure. Her whole body undulated subtly before he withdrew his hands, retreating the way he'd come. He ran his palms down the elegant curve of her spine, slipping his fingers under the elastic of her panties.
Her body felt like molten silver, flowing and pulsating beneath his touch. He cupped the warm flesh of her bottom, running his hands lightly over her hips and sides. Nothing on her skin, he noted vaguely. He returned to the first hint of the crevice of her buttocks and skimmed a single finger lightly into its warmth.
Kimberly gasped, her hips lifting slightly off the ground. He eased his finger farther along the curve of her body, his control spinning dangerously close to the breaking point. He wanted the tight heat of her around him. He wanted to feel the undulations of her hips beneath his, to feel her surging up into him like that.
Shaken, he ran his hands around her hips until he felt the first soft rise of feminine flesh under his fingertips. He slid his hands slowly between her thighs, which softened in unmistakable welcome.
The incredible softness between her legs was nearly his undoing. He penetrated the folds of velvet flesh slowly, easing his fingers toward the very core of her. His own breath came in ragged bursts as she moved helplessly against his hand. With a single finger, he stroked the damp, sensitive center of her, wringing a soft moan from Kimberly's throat.
A flush stole up her neck, and even though her face was buried in her arm, the little gasps of pleasure she took still reached him.
He spread his fingers lightly and her thighs opened for him, granting him full access to her.
He tested the smooth wetness of her entrance, driven almost out of his mind by its tight, hot promise. Her delicate muscles clenched around his fingertip, and abruptly she shuddered. Another moan slipped from her throat.
Without dislodging his hand, she rolled onto her side to face him.
He stroked her deeply, and her eyes fluttered shut in abandon. "Do you want more?" he managed to force out past his clenched teeth.
She answered on a sigh. "Oh, yes."
The relief that flooded him was so profound he didn't even want to think about what he'd have done if she'd said no.
He hooked her panties and skimmed them down her legs in a single, swift movement. A quick reach behind her and her bra fell away. He dipped his head to taste her rosy flesh, the peaks straining with pleasure as he circled them with his tongue.
Her hands speared into his hair, pressing him closer to her heated flesh. He feasted upon her breasts, relishing the dewy freshness of her skin.
And then her hands were on the waistband of his briefs. Her fingers dipped inside, clasping his throbbing flesh and threatening to send him over the edge right then and there.
He fumbled behind him for the web belt lying on top of his clothes, searching for the pouch with the condoms. He ripped open the foil packet quickly, praying the guy'd bought a decent brand that wouldn't break under the strain of what they were about to do to it.
He slipped off his briefs and skimmed on the protection in one quick move. He gathered Kimberly in his arms and leaned over her, relishing the sexual haze in her eyes.
Starting at her brow, he ran his fingertips lightly down her cheek and throat, down her neck, through the warm valley of her breasts, across her flat stomach, and down, down, to the hot, wet core of her.
Her thighs fell open and she pulled him down to her, impatient in her need. He laughed and obliged, settling himself between her sleek thighs.
He kissed her then, melding their mouths into a heated, passionate dance of advance and retreat, a swirling, carnal waltz. Finally she tore her mouth away, gasping for him to come to her.
The slide of flesh
on heated flesh about did him in. He forced himself to take her slowly, relishing every agonizing inch of the journey home. Finally he was seated deep within her, her heat clenching him more tightly than he'd imagined possible, her muscles throbbing with tremors of pleasure before he even began to move.
He retreated slowly and she surged up into him, demanding all of him. He thrust deeply into her, matching her desire with his own.
Just as they had during their midnight treks, their bodies quickly fell into sync, mirroring each other's movements with the perfection of a symphony. The music of their souls built into a towering crescendo, their bodies pounding out the rhythm with abandon, their throats singing out the glory of their passion.
In the same instant their voices broke on a gasp. They froze while the climax of their lovemaking tore them free of their bodies and flung them up into the ether, away from the material world.
They hurtled back down together, the power of their release slamming them back into their bodies with a shudder of exquisite pleasure so intense they nearly lost consciousness for a moment.
Tex became aware of his breathing. He was sucking air like he'd run a marathon. Hell, a triathlon. Kimberly's body was damp and hot beneath his. He propped himself up on one elbow and used his free hand to push her golden hair back from her forehead.
Her chest rose and fell deeply beneath his and a rosy flush tinted her entire body. Her eyes fluttered open and she stared up at him in dazed amazement.
"Welcome back," he murmured.
"Wow," she breathed.
He smiled at the wonder in her voice. He could lay here forever, just looking down at her. The moment was perfect. She was perfect.
Carefully he memorized her down to the very last detail. For as long as he lived, when the going got tough and he needed a reminder of why he was fighting to live, this would be the moment he hearkened back to.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Making a memory. Next time I'm about to die, this is what I'm going to think of. It will motivate me to make it out alive. And if I do die, I can't think of a better moment in my life to have in my mind when I go."
A soft smile curved her mouth. "What if it's true that your last living thought colors your afterlife? You might end up being a totally lascivious ghost."
He grinned. "Sounds to me like a decent way to spend eternity."
She laughed up at him. "Men. You're all the same."
He rolled away from her gently and then stood up in a single move. He held a hand down to her. "Can I interest you in another bath and maybe a bit to eat? It would need to be a quick bath, but I think we can spare a few extra minutes."
"Two baths in one day? Will the luxury of this vacation never cease?" she teased.
"We aim to please. If you're real lucky, I'll catch us some fish for supper. I saw a few in the water earlier."
She groaned with pleasure. "Fish. Something that actually qualifies as food fit for human consumption. Oh, how you spoil me."
He leaned down and dropped a quick kiss on her upturned mouth. "I do my best, darlin'."
* * *
Kimberly knelt by the shore, rinsing the worst of the filth out of their clothes. She watched Tex stand motionless as a statue in thigh-deep water. He held a sharpened stick high over his shoulder. He looked like a Greek god. Apollo poised to sling his war spear.
She fed a couple more sticks into the fire he'd built before he went fishing. For some reason the very act of having a fire made her feel safer. It was an acknowledgment that they were no longer running for their lives.
She waved away a plume of smoke as an errant puff of wind blew in her direction. An abrupt flash of movement made her jump. Tex's arm had just shot down into the water.
He lifted up the spear and a good-size fish wiggled on the end of the stick. Grinning, Tex waded to the shore.
"Hey!" she exclaimed. "You actually caught one!"
"Being a hunter is all about patience and cunning, my dear." His eyes gleamed at her in a way that had nothing to do with fish. He knelt beside her, pulling the flopping fish off the spear. "Do you know how to prepare a fish?" he asked.
She gave him a quelling look. "My idea of preparing fish is to go to this wonderful little private restaurant I know in Annapolis and tell the chef how I want it cooked."
He laughed. "I forgot. You're a city slicker." He picked up the still flopping fish. A flash of silver glinted off its scales. "First order of business is to kill it. You bash it on the head with a rock or the butt of a knife."
She winced as he demonstrated. At least the thing quit wiggling.
"Next, you chop off its head and slit its stomach from chin to tail. Then, you squeeze out all the entrails. You can just spread it flat and cook it right there, or you can cut off the tail and fillet it if you're feeling fancy."
She was still stuck on the squeezing-out-the-entrails part. She began to feel slightly nauseous, and much less hungry for fish then she'd been a minute or two ago.
"Here. You give it a try," he said, shoving the dead fish and his knife into her hands.
The fish was cold and slimy. Ick.
She looked up at him pleadingly. "When we get back home, I'll take you to that restaurant in Annapolis, my treat, if you'll fix the fish."
"Squeamish, eh?"
Darn him. He was laughing at her. "Yes. Yes, I am squeamish. And I'm not ashamed to admit it."
He lifted the fish out of her hands and knelt by a rock, which he used as a work surface. He efficiently whacked off the creature's head. She looked away hastily and busied herself adding more wood to the fire.
"That's enough wood," Tex commented over his shoulder at her. "We don't want a bonfire. It'd send up too big a smoke plume."
Alarmed, she replied, "I thought we were safe. Nobody's chasing us anymore, right?"
"True, nobody's chasing us. But that doesn't mean we're safe."
She turned around to face him. A neat, white fillet was falling away from the carcass of the fish under the ministrations of his sharp knife.
Now what threat did they face? Her heart raced and her stomach felt truly queasy as she asked, "Why are we still in danger?"
Tex glanced up from the second fillet. "Nobody in this country likes Americans. The poachers and farmers out here would have no compunction about slitting our throats just because of our nationality. More importantly, if the rebels figure out we're tailing them, you better believe they'll kill us if they can. They went to a lot of trouble to get the RITA rifle, and they're not going to hand it over without a fight."
She gulped. What he said made sense.
He stood up and moved to her side. "Here." He handed her the two fillets that, thankfully, looked like fish was supposed to, now.
"Do you think you can manage to thread those on a stick and roast them over the fire?"
She frowned up at him. "What are you going to be doing?"
"I'm catching a couple more fish. We could both use a no-kidding, stomach-filling meal, and we can smoke any leftover fish and eat it later."
She managed to drop the fish twice, coating it with ash, then to burn her fingers wiping the ash off, and to scorch her face from the heat of the fire before the fish was finally cooked through, but she did it.
Tex finished cleaning the four additional fish he caught and joined her by the fire. Proudly, she handed him his fillet on a stick. He took a bite while she watched anxiously.
"Well?" she asked.
"Well what?"
"How does it taste?" she demanded.
He grinned. "Fine. You did a great job of cooking it. Or are you waiting to see if I keel over dead before you taste yours?"
She stuck her tongue out at him and bit into her fish. It had a strong, oily taste, but she was so relieved to be eating real food again that she didn't care. They ate another entire fish. Then Tex partially cooked the remaining fish before wrapping it in green leaves and burying it in the coals of the fire.
"That'll be ready in abou
t an hour," he remarked. "We can rest until it's done."
She could think of something else she'd like to spend an hour doing. But even the idea of saying it out loud made her blush.
Tex hopped up and searched the edge of the woods for a moment. He stooped, picked a handful of leaves and came back to her side.
He flopped down on the ground beside her, half reclining against the buttress root of a giant tree. "Here, have a couple mint leaves."
She smelled them cautiously, enjoying the bitingly fresh odor.
She watched Tex pop several his into his mouth and start chewing. Around the leaves, he explained, "It's not exactly a toothbrush and toothpaste, but it gets the fish taste out of your mouth."
She mimicked him, gingerly nibbling the edge of a leaf. It had a rather green taste to it, but the cool, minty flavor the leaves left behind was worth it.
She watched Tex prop his hands behind his neck and close his eyes. When he relaxed like that, he looked just like a tiger, sleek and well-fed. She itched to reach out and touch him, to explore more slowly this time the expanse of muscles that was his chest and shoulders. She talked to distract herself. "So what's the plan now?"
He answered without opening his eyes. "We track the rebels until we catch up with them. Then we watch for an opportunity to move in and steal the rifle back. Once we've got it, we hightail it out of there and get back home."
She frowned. "We're going to have to run away from the rebels again?"
"'Fraid so."
Her stomach fell to her feet. Just when she'd finally relaxed, he had to go and drop that bomb on her.
He opened one eye and peered at her. "Why the long face?"
She rolled her eyes. "Do you have to ask?"
"No." He sighed.
He held an arm out to her. "Come here."
She cuddled against his powerful side, laying her head on his solid shoulder.
"Tell you what. I'll make it up to you as best as I can. I'll try to do this mission as fast as I can, and I'll do what I can to make the trek as comfortable as possible for you."
"I don't care how long it takes, Tex. Just as long as you're safe. If you'll be at less risk to do it slowly, then by all means, take your time."
