Never Surrender (Task Force Eagle)

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Never Surrender (Task Force Eagle) Page 9

by Susan Vaughan


  “Is there a four?” I’ll die if there isn’t.

  “Four, most of all, I want you inside me for what I suspect will be incredible, mind-blowing sex.” She trailed a sizzling fuse down his chest to his navel.

  His heart raced, and he had to clasp her shoulders to stop his hands from shaking. “I want to take it slowly with you. I want a leisurely journey of anticipation, but you make restraint impossible. I crave you so much I burn hotter than that fire.”

  With a smile as seductive as Eve’s, she took his hand and started toward the bedroom.

  “Not in there. I want to see you bathed in firelight.” He rushed past her to snatch a quilt from the foot of the bed. She shoved back the sofa. He spread the quilt before the Franklin stove, then tugged her down with him onto the padded softness.

  They knelt, their bodies aligned, and kissed. The heat of her mouth made him groggy with craving. With a sweep of his tongue, he probed her texture, the ridges of her teeth, the sweetness of her desire as her tongue sought his.

  “We have on too many clothes.”

  “Agreed.” She flicked open his top shirt button, then the next, and the next until she slid the garment down and off. “This shirt looks good on you. And off you.”

  Her fingers fumbled with his belt buckle, but he brushed them away. “Later. My turn.” He peeled off her sweater, and then the lace bra. “Yeah, oh, yeah.”

  A blush spread over her cheeks and down to her breasts. He had to see where the rosy color would end. She sucked in a breath when he stroked a nipple.

  “Beautiful. Satiny nipples the color of pink hibiscus blossoms.”

  She chuckled. “A breast connoisseur.”

  “You bet.” He lowered her to their bedding and brushed his lips over each peaked nipple, laving and tasting the sweetness of her skin. When he suckled her, she arched upward and uttered a soft ah. He kissed down to her flat stomach. “Breast connoisseur, belly connoisseur. Any part you have with this soft skin.”

  A reflection of flames gilded her moistened breasts. Dizziness pulsed in his head, in his loins. His need for her overwhelmed him.

  She must have seen the heat in his eyes because she unzipped her jeans and pushed them and her panties down and kicked them off. Those runner’s killer legs. His gaze riveted on the curls at their apex. A darker gold, they hinted at the heated passion inside her.

  That she trusted him enough to bare herself to him touched him more deeply than her desire for him. He was used to women desiring him, but trust had never been an issue. Juliana had journeyed from fearing his intentions to reliance on his skills and honor, and finally to trust. In spite of what still stood between them, she opened herself to him.

  It humbled him.

  The fire crackled as sap bubbled within. The flames danced and weaved, caressing each other. The only other sound was the thudding of their hearts.

  He skinned away the rest of his clothing so fast that she laughed.

  Before tossing away his jeans, he extracted a foil packet. “That little store might not have much of a spice and wine selection, but they had plenty of these.”

  “Kiss me.”

  He did.

  At last they were skin to skin. He kissed her shoulder, her breasts, her hips and thighs and inhaled the female musk of her skin. He stroked her body as she moved beneath him.

  Her hands caressed his skin, traced the contours of his muscles, and rubbed his nipples until he ground his teeth. She ran her palms down his back to his buttocks and scraped her nails over the base of his spine.

  Wildfire streaking over his body, he groaned. Dammit, he would hold out long enough for her. He massaged the wet silk between her legs. “You’re so ready for me.”

  Moaning, she reached for him, cupping him and stroking him. “Now, Rick, now.”

  When they joined, he groaned at the exquisite sensation. She was slick and small and tight. His climax clawed at him, but he took care to join them slowly, and the wonder of it, the joy of the soul-deep oneness he felt with her stilled him. Stunned him. Awed him.

  She locked her legs around him, and they kissed endlessly as passion built.

  He stiffened, fire surging in his blood, poised on the edge, straining to hold back until she joined him. “Come with me, mi mariposa, fly with me.”

  And then she cried out, her strong legs gripping him as her body rippled beneath him.

  Her spasms squeezed him, sent him flying with her. “Ah . . . mi corazón, mi corazón.”

  Chapter 11

  Two hours later, Juliana’s mind and body still hummed from their lovemaking. Mind-blowing didn’t begin to describe the experience. Softness uncurled inside her at the anticipation of more.

  After they’d eaten and cleared away the dishes and the rest of the Cuban chicken, they built up the fire again and snuggled on the quilt. The wood fire scent layered over the chicken aromas made her drowsy.

  She wore only her brother’s old tee shirt. She set down the tumbler that served as a wine goblet, then leaned against the sofa.

  Clad in his boxers, Rick sprawled beside her, his head in her lap, one hand stroking her knee. He turned to nuzzle her stomach, then glanced up at her with the half grin that always melted her muscles.

  “What was that you said, um . . . at the end? ‘Mi cor’ something.”

  His grin evaporated, and he went still. His eyes clouded with what might be panic before he grinned again. Not a convincing grin, but pasted on. “Mmm, I really don’t know what I said, some Spanish endearment like darling. You can’t hold a man responsible for what he says at such a moment.”

  She blinked at his response. Was Mr. Allergic-to-Relationships being defensive? She merely requested a translation, after all, not a declaration of love. Was what he’d said more than an endearment? She might never know.

  “Of course not.” She stilled and her chest tightened. After he’d eased away from her, she was still drooling over him. Fool, fool, just like Molly.

  He sat up and kissed her. Garlic and wine mingled with his familiar, dear flavor. “I can’t stay here beyond tomorrow. I need to find Jordan and stop El Águila’s dirty operation.”

  She saw the intensity of his emotions increase with each challenge he set for himself. A complex scenario. “You aren’t the only agent who can do that.”

  “But I’m the only one who sees how it all goes together. I shouldn’t tell you, but there’s a leak in the DEA office. I hate the idea of another agent being dirty.” He pounded a fist into the sofa cushion.

  She wanted to put her arms around him and make it all go away. “I’m not surprised there’s a leak. The gang has been one step ahead or one step behind us. But why does it have to be a DEA agent? Could it be someone else in your offices?”

  He jabbed a hand through his hair. “Shit, I’ll call Donovan now.” He went to his coat and came up with his phone.

  “No cell phone coverage here, remember?”

  “Satellite phone. Secure. I got this.”

  Juliana added wood to the fire while he talked to his fellow agent. Now she had to tell him what she’d neglected to before.

  After he disconnected, he kissed her. “Thanks, Ms. Super Spy.”

  “Anytime. And there’s another possibility.”

  He slanted a skeptical glance her way. “Do you know something I don’t?”

  “Maybe. The information about Bar Harbor could’ve come from Wes Vinson. The day we left for Down East, I mentioned I was going to see my uncle in Bar Harbor. I didn’t remember I said it until much later.”

  He caressed her cheek with his knuckles. “So Vinson knew where we were. Do you have any other reason to suspect him?”

  “I didn’t until yesterday.” Recalling her shock of discovery, she hugged her knees. She liked Wes both as a boss and a friend. She felt used and betrayed. “Since I was acting as office manager, I decided to check my brother’s employment record. The computer file had only his shipping dates and social security and such. Other employee folders
are in a filing cabinet. Jordan’s contained an interesting note.”

  “Don’t keep me in suspense.”

  “Someone had written one word on a sticky note: Sudsy.”

  He swore, a staccato burst of Spanish. He leaped to his feet and prowled the small room like a caged cat.

  Edginess sharpened the high curve of his cheekbones, lending him a predatory aspect. Halting at a window, he stared into the night and rubbed the back of his neck. He stabbed at the air with an index finger. “I’ve had suspicions about Vinson.”

  “And you didn’t tell me?”

  “What would I tell you? No evidence. Only my gut.”

  “If he sent Jordan to work for Sudsy Pettit, that meant he lied about not knowing who Jordan was,” she said. “Or Pettit.”

  He nodded. “The connection with Pettit dumps Vinson in the middle of the drug and gun trafficking, maybe at the top.”

  “Any craft in Vinson’s fleet could easily ferry drugs from an offshore rendezvous.”

  “Did you ever ask him about that call he promised to make?”

  “He said he faxed them about having Finny phone me. He insisted they must have lost the fax.”

  “Want to bet phone records show no call, fax or otherwise, to Rockland between your visit to Vinson and our trip north? I can’t check without a warrant.”

  “He lied.” Her eyes narrowed as she grasped the implications. “If he didn’t want me to find Jordan, Wes must know why Jordan had to hide. Could he have told the Mexicans about Finny?”

  His gaze stark with emotion, he knelt before her and grasped her shoulders. “Your info helps confirm my theory that Vinson could be Olívas’s American partner.”

  How the son of a respectable Portland family establishment could be the major pipeline for drugs in the Northeast was beyond her. “How do you suppose he got involved?”

  “Easy money, a lot easier than the fishing business. Talk to any fisherman, any owner of a seafood business. It’s getting harder to find the fish. They blame too many regulations, shorter seasons, competitors. Doesn’t excuse Vinson but might explain his motives.”

  “He could’ve gotten backing to modernize, to expand,” she said.

  “I don’t have his financial records, but rumor has it he’s taken out bank loans over the past several years. Had trouble paying them back until a few years ago. Suspicion is the short cut to an influx of money could’ve been smuggling. The connection would explain why Olívas didn’t roar out in a big power boat to grab Finny off Sea Worthy. Vinson couldn’t afford the exposure.”

  “You’ll need proof.”

  “And in a hurry. We have only a few days until the Sea Worthy is due back in port. Vinson knows you’re looking for Finny and so is the DEA. We have to get to Finny first.”

  “Next week. That’s not much time.” She smiled. He needed her. Correction. He needed her help.

  Pangs of unease dimmed the glow from their lovemaking. Rick was honorable. Maybe she could trust him to find Jordan and see that he was safe. But it was the system that failed her dad. The system killed him. How can I trust the DEA? Anyone?

  She couldn’t let doubts weigh her down like a sack of rocks. She could act, not just sit by and wait. “When I go back to work, I can try to discover more.”

  “No. It’s too dangerous. If he suspected . . .” He got up and tossed two more logs in the stove before shutting its doors.

  He returned to wrap her in his strong arms. “Enough speculation for one night. I want to devote my attention to a certain woman whose talents I haven’t fully appreciated.”

  His voice flowed over her like a caress. His gaze, hot and hungry, met hers, and sparks flared into swirling heat. Love was a more complex emotion than she expected—warm and soft one moment, steamy and sharp the next.

  “Oh, yes, Rick, appreciate me.” Urgency enveloped her like a sauna.

  His uninhibited passion fueled her sensuality. Her feelings for him had intensified with the heart and soul connection of their joined bodies. Their idyll would end tomorrow, and she wanted to take advantage of their time together.

  He scooped her up and carried her into the small bedroom. “This time I want you in a bed. I have a feeling that after I appreciate every inch of you, we’ll both need sleep.”

  She lowered the flame on the gas lamp until its cobalt globe cast only a hazy blue aura over the bed. He followed her down and didn’t resist when she pushed him onto his back.

  She stripped off her shirt and his boxers before straddling his pelvis. A calculated wriggle elicited a renewed leap of desire in his eyes.

  He palmed her breasts, shooting a hot flash of sensation to her center.

  She shimmied against the hot ridge beneath her bare bottom. “You’re mine, Mr. Macho-SEAL-agent.”

  *****

  The next morning, after they made love again, Rick let Juliana doze and he stared at the ceiling.

  He needed to find Jordan as much as she did. The only proof against Vinson besides catching a boat in the act would be records of drug shipments. Or weapons shipments. Without cause, no search warrant. Worse, the task force had no time for surveillance of the boats or Vinson. Cases like these sometimes took months.

  With only days left, someone unofficial had to snoop in Vinson’s office. Someone he wouldn’t suspect. Fuck. He’d been protecting Juliana, and now he had to deliberately send her into danger.

  If only Jordan would show up. He might know about Vinson. Maybe that was what the gang feared. No clues in the kid’s apartment. Most of his stuff was packed in the duffel bag.

  What had she said? He doesn’t have much. Mostly he lives on a fishing boat.

  His pulse sped. He’d kick the idea around with Holt Donovan and Jake Wescott. Nothing to tell Juliana. Not yet.

  Beside him, she shifted and cuddled closer, still asleep.

  A quiet intensity shimmered inside him, a mix of lust and protectiveness and other sensations he couldn’t name. Shit, he’d been certain that having her would sate him, would satisfy his raw hunger. Sex was recreation. Fun. Intimate, sensual fun, no big deal.

  But tonight hadn’t been enough. He needed more.

  She filled his spirit with her responsiveness, her sweetness, her caring. She understood him better than anyone ever had. His need for her shocked him, his need to make love to her over and over, to bind her to him. But who was bound? The power of their lovemaking had him calling out more than a casual endearment. Mi corazón.

  My heart.

  If she had his heart, what then? How could he fall for a woman with a drug dealer in the family? Even if she disbelieved the guilt. He’d be disloyal to his own brother’s memory. And he had no clue how she felt about him or what she expected from him.

  His heart battered his ribs like the wings of a wild green parrot he’d once seen trapped against a window. He’d freed the frantic creature, and it had flown to freedom in the sky. Was freedom truly what his heart wanted?

  *****

  They finished the arroz con pollo for breakfast and prepared to drive back to Portland. Rick stared out the window. The coastal rains had found their way west, dampening the ground and dampening spirits. “So you’re sure you know what to do?”

  “That’s the third time in an hour you’ve asked me that. You sound like me with the dire warnings and reminders.” Juliana grinned as she checked her day planner.

  “Be very careful. Don’t let Vinson suspect we’re on to him. Don’t put yourself under suspicion. If you can’t get at the files, we’ll figure out something else.” He held out her parka.

  “Believe me, you can trust me to be careful.” She zipped her coat and kissed him.

  “I do, querida, about as far as you trust me.”

  Her mouth thinned. “What do you mean?”

  “We’ve skirted the issue long enough.” Maybe too long. He hated the official tone of his voice, hated fucking sounding like an interrogator. “What if Jordan had been here?”

  Her chin lifted. “
I don’t know. I had to trust you. But he wasn’t here. You would have been stuck in this cabin together.”

  “Instead, you and I have been . . . stuck . . . together.” He dragged her into his arms and kissed her for a long, satisfying time. Yes, together, he thought, his senses reeling once more from the heady sensation of her embrace.

  “Why, Juliana? Why after all this time did you have sex with me?” Damn, what a dumb-ass thing to say. She probably thought he needed to hear how head over heels she was as a sop to his ego. “I mean why did you give in after being so adamant that we’re too different, that I remind you of Molly’s guys?”

  “But you don’t remind me of Molly’s men. You’re the one who said that, not me. You’re kind and sexy and honorable and responsible.”

  “I’m not as wonderful as you think.”

  “Agreed. You’re also a tease and a flirt who’ll make a play for anything female.”

  “You crush me. I haven’t been with another woman since I met you. You wiped all other women from my system. You’re all I see, all I want.”

  “And that’s why. Do you know what a turn-on it is to be wanted so desperately, so single-mindedly? You overwhelmed me. I didn’t want to resist any longer.” Her gaze slid away, and her lip trembled, as if she wanted to say more but didn’t dare. She slid toward the door. “Um, we have to go. Everything will be all right.”

  Maybe, maybe not after he said the rest of his speech. He followed her and held the door shut. “Wait, you have to admit the truth about Jordan. I’m helping you find out about him, yes, but it’s all pieces of the same puzzle.”

  “I know that. Wes Vinson and Sudsy Pettit, all tied in with El Águila’s operation.” She turned aside, her brow pleated. “What do you mean, the truth about Jordan?”

  “You can’t keep believing your brother is an innocent pawn who can avoid prosecution. For a skeptic, you have on blinders the size of palm fronds.” He steeled himself with a deep breath. “The fish truck job lasted a month with two trips a week. All those deliveries weren’t to markets and restaurants. He had to know he was a mule, carrying drugs packed with the fish. He may go to prison.”

 

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