by Dianna Love
“Where are we?”
“In a secluded location in the mountains.”
“What are we doing here?”
“Waiting.”
Ah, hell. Sabrina didn’t want Margaux back in Atlanta yet, which meant they were locked up in a remote location. Probably an armed guard outside. “Nobody said anything about you taking care of me?”
“No.”
“Did they send in a doctor?” Singleton was Sabrina’s field medic, but Margaux wouldn’t use anyone’s name.
“No.”
That sucked. Margaux expected a little more consideration out of Sabrina, but now that she thought about it, Nick advised her to do whatever she was told whenever she was told if she didn’t want to make things worse.
“Don’t worry,” Dragan told her. “I cleaned out the infection again, stitched it and gave you heavy antibiotics.”
“You stitched me?”
“Wasn’t my first stitch job.”
“Who else have you sewn up?”
“Me. I had a gash in my leg one time.”
Of course.
He brushed hair off her face and smoothed his hand along her cheek. “You had me worried there for a while. Thought you were just going to wimp out and let some puny infection win.”
The lips she’d felt kissing her at some point must have been his.
Guess she’d have to leave his ass intact. This time.
She made a scoffing sound at his poor attempt to insult her. “If you knew anything about me, you’d know I never give in to an opponent, human or bacterial.”
“Oh, I know you.”
Something poked at the back of her brain when he said that. She needed a day just to recall everything that had happened since the Trophy Room. Spending intense time together in the jungle while trying to survive would make any two people more familiar, but his voice was familiar and the way he’d said that bothered her.
She wished he’d turn on the lights so she could see his face better. Look into his eyes and see what emotion had pushed that comment.
Teasing, serious or sincere?
She went with teasing and returned the favor. “If you know me so well, then you’d realize that I want a bath. Where’s the shower?”
“You don’t feel clean?”
Actually she did and that bothered her because she’d been nasty the last time she’d been awake. “I had a bath?”
“Yep. Not that long ago. I kept thinking you’d wake up and yell at me.” He was twirling a lock of her hair around his finger. “I washed your hair, too. That was a trick to pull off, but I had help.”
She frowned, trying to decide if she was happy to be clean or pissed off that a man had been handling her body while she was out of it.
Dragan handling her body.
He sighed. “Quiet’s not a good sign with you, Sugar. No one saw all of you but me, and I didn’t take any liberties, so stop fuming.”
That was better. Sort of. “Why did they let you bathe—”
He leaned over and kissed her, taking his time gently studying her mouth by touch. He turned kissing into an art. His tongue explored and tangled with hers.
She really should tell him that he couldn’t kiss her every time he had a notion, but no one was around and he tasted like cinnamon mint.
He deepened the kiss and lust rolled through her. She used her healthy arm to reach his back.
He didn’t have a shirt on. Running her hands over his muscles just turned her on even more. Her fingers slid across the smooth skin over cut muscle. Dragan was all male from his powerful body to his deadly skills.
Her mind must be mush, because she no longer cared about being manhandled for a bath, not as long as he was willing to keep kissing her this way. He nipped, teased her lips that felt much improved. She lifted her hand to his cheek. The beard was gone. He had a nicely sculpted face. She pushed her fingers into his hair, smiling at the softness.
That was the only thing soft on this man.
Hovering over her, his hand touched her waist. Long fingers spread out, moving across her stomach. She’d forgotten how good being touched by the right man could feel.
Dragan was far from the right man, but she wasn’t in a position to judge him considering her own pile of problems with the law. She’d never been much for living in glass houses and judging someone without all the information.
There was a chance that Dragan had been meeting with the Banker for a reason other than to sign on for terrorist work.
Margaux had been out to meet the Banker for what she considered moral reasons.
What if Dragan had, too?
If so, that would make him no more of a criminal than she was.
Bad analogy considering she was wanted by the FBI and INTERPOL, but there was a lot of story that went with that little complication she’d have to face soon.
If Dragan was willing to trade information on the Banker or if she could determine he wasn’t running a team that worked for terrorists, she’d find a way to get him out of here.
Right now, he was the man who had put his life at risk to get her out of that jungle alive.
Dragan’s fingers moved up from her waist, pausing at the side of her breast and all thoughts vanished except how close his hand was to really making her feel better.
What was he waiting on? Her breasts were starved for appreciation. The girls were cranky and letting Margaux know it. Timid had never been part of her makeup.
She kissed Dragan back.
He didn’t need much encouragement at that point. His lips were warm and firm, sexy as hell. Kissing him was better than making love to other men.
She hadn’t had that thought in years.
And kissing Dragan felt familiar. As if she’d kissed this mouth before. Everyone supposedly had a physical twin somewhere in the world, but could two men kiss the same? The more he kissed her, the more her memory stirred. His hands touched her with a familiarity that she missed.
Was that freaking weird or what?
He must have bathed her more than once so maybe she dreamed about him. About this. Or maybe she was just horny as hell and he was one hot male.
No. She was sure it was Dragan causing this need that coiled and twisted inside her. Her body tightened in all the right places. Now if she could just get him to connect the dots and spring that tension.
He pulled his lips from hers and lifted his head, breathing as fast as she was. Then he dropped his forehead to hers. “Sorry. I’m just so damned glad to have you awake and better.”
Sorry? What the... “Why are you apologizing?”
“Because all I can think about is how much I want you and that wasn’t my intention when I kissed you.”
“Why not?”
He let out a long breath. “I’m not going to take advantage of the situation.”
“Do you really think I’d let any man take advantage of me?” she asked with a grin she knew he couldn’t see because she couldn’t see his mouth when his body was blocking out what little light they had.
He teased, “You are at my mercy right now.”
Her grin widened at his light tone. “If that’s the case, is that the best you can do to a woman at your mercy?”
His fingers slowly massaged at the side of her breast. “I’m not doing anything until your arm is better.”
Ah. He clearly intended to do something after all, huh? No time like the present. “If you’re any good with those fingers, you should be able to keep me from thinking about my arm.”
Silence answered her challenge.
Well, hell, she’d never been the flirty female type who played games.
She was direct and went after what she wanted. Life had screwed her over so many times and she’d lived on the run for so long, she’d learned to take what she could when she could, and be willing to let go when the time came.
She wanted Dragan.
He ground out a discouraging sound. “You don’t know me, Sugar.”
“I kno
w enough.” She chuckled at Mr. Noble all of a sudden. It was, well, she couldn’t come up with a better word than sweet, which she was sure he wouldn’t want said in public.
“You don’t know who I really am.”
“So tell me then we can move ahead.”
“Not tonight. Tomorrow.”
Why then? And was he really going to tell her anything about himself? Hell, no. This was just his way of saying he thought she wasn’t physically up to having sex. And that was all she was talking about. Sex.
She couldn’t consider anything else. Not with her past. Any man foolish enough to get involved with her risked being dragged into the hell she called a life. She had a scary track record for picking men.
They turned out to be criminals or ended up dead. Or both.
Life had taught her to recognize the limitations of her world. To accept that she would spend every tomorrow alone. She wouldn’t apologize for the comfort she found with a sexy man for a few stolen hours.
It was an empty comfort, but it beat giving up that little moment of happiness.
And there was something about Dragan that called to her, that made her wish for more than one night, but neither one of them would see each other again once Sabrina showed up.
His thumb was brushing back and forth across her cheek. He was treating her the way a man touched a woman when he intended more than a quick ride. When he planned to take his time learning her body. She could practically hear Dragan debating on what to do.
Just the fact that he was hesitating raised a longing in her to hold onto a man like him. That was a dangerous longing that would end in disappointment.
She’d had enough misery in her life.
No emotional ties equaled no broken heart.
She pushed away that rogue longing and beefed up her defenses internally. She’d lay this out in simple terms no man could refuse. She hoped.
“Listen, Dragan. We both have things in our past that we don’t need to talk about tonight. Actually, not at all.”
“You don’t underst—”She put her hand on his lips. “Hear me out. Considering how we met, neither of us is destined to be sainted in this lifetime. We just survived a stint where at least one of us should have died, and more likely both, but we didn’t. If we’d died, this moment would never have happened.”
He didn’t say anything and that was the green light to keep going as far as she was concerned. “Right now, right this second, I don’t care what you want to tell me about who you are. I don’t care about the past or the future, because my life will not be my own the minute daylight shows up. I don’t get a lot of opportunities like ... this. I haven’t been with anyone in over a year. Okay, two years. And rarely before that. I won’t beg a man for anything, but I’m asking you to not take this away from me.”
Her fingers slid down to his bare chest that moved with deep breaths. Running her hands over him gave her a mental picture of what hovered over her.
He was power and danger leashed by a tether of corded steel.
She wanted to snap that leash and see what happened.
Yes, that probably made her certifiable, but she’d given up a lot of things in life and wouldn’t forfeit this moment. All she cared about was her next breath, the need to feel alive and cared for, even if it was little more than a fantasy.
She added, “You have to know I’m the kind of woman who means it when I say no regrets ... unless that romp in the jungle was harder on you than I realized and you just aren’t capable of—”
He kissed her again. No, he consumed her. His lips were ferocious, demanding and wild. She loved it and lifted up, pushing into the kiss. His fingers held her head, then eased the binding out of her hair, clutching the locks that he released. Dragan held his weight off her and moved his other hand carefully along her side, then to her hips.
He stayed there in a holding pattern. Still too careful to suit her.
Then he broke the kiss and started to pull away.
She gripped his shoulder. “Where are you going?”
“As far as I can get from you and with any luck I’ll find cold water at the end of that trip.”
“So you’re going to get me all worked up and leave me to take care of myself?”
CHAPTER 20
“Shit,” Logan ground out. How was he supposed to form a thought with a visual of Margaux touching herself? She knew exactly what that would do to him and he was already hard as a steel spike ready to drive into something.
Her.
And she’d been serious. There wasn’t a damn thing coy about her.
Muscles bunched across Logan’s back the longer he hung in indecision over what to do. He’d only wanted to kiss Margaux, just feel her close to him again. He’d slept by her the entire time she’d been in and out with the fever, but she was awake and smelled of the lotion he’d rubbed on her chaffed skin.
What kind of man gets an erection while taking care of a woman who’s unconscious?
The kind who’d known her body and missed it.
He didn’t want to get into that discussion tonight. Too many land mines in their history and he didn’t want her stressed now that she was relaxed. She still needed more rest and wouldn’t get it if he opened that Pandora’s box tonight.
Margaux might be more dangerous than Pandora. She’d want to kick his ass. And he deserved it, but not until she was better.
She lifted her hips, intentionally bumping up against his erection then purred, “Such a shame to waste that ... Sugar.”
The hellion was back even if she hadn’t fully recovered. He wanted the same thing she did, but not until she had one more night of rest and not until after they had a chance to talk.
If he was going to go, it had to be now.
Like right fucking now, asshole. Logan kissed her again, quickly, and pushed up off the bed. “Get some more sleep. I’ll be back.”
“Don’t come back. By the time you do it’ll be all over with,” she threatened.
She had grit in her voice, but it couldn’t hide that he’d insulted her. Dammit. He couldn’t win this one. Should he just tell her everything right now? No. She wasn’t as strong as she thought after that infection.
On the other hand, she’d really get some rest if he took her up on her offer.
Leave it to his dick to come up with an end-justifies-the-means argument.
Logan stepped away from the bed, his sight good enough to navigate the dark room.
She muttered a challenge from the bed. “Coward.”
The candle finally burned out, pitching the room in total darkness.
His jaw got rock hard from clenching his teeth, but he kept walking to the door. When he got there, he stood hidden in the dark. She wouldn’t really back that threat. She was too tired and just screwing with him.
His heartbeat kicked into high gear, because she’d never bluffed when he’d known her before.
He opened the door to more darkness, then closed it just as fast before he could walk out and slowed his breathing to just short of comatose.
Who knew stupidity ran in his genes?
Or maybe that was a natural condition for a man close to testosterone overload.
He should go, but he didn’t know a red-blooded male on this planet who would leave right now without finding out if Margaux really meant to play with his mind or her body.
She was still exhausted. Any minute now, she’d settle in and go back to sleep.
Her breathing quickened then it changed to soft gasps.
Sweat beaded along his neck and forehead.
She made a sexy sound deep in her throat and his erection throbbed in response. She panted faster, getting closer.
Shit. He started toward her and stopped. He wasn’t even supposed to be in here right now.
“Oh, yes,” she moaned. The matteress was moving. “His loss.”
He was going to explode.
She started making an mm-mm sound and the bed was making a steady noise.
; Logan swallowed, trembling with the need. His fists were so tight his fingers dug into the palms of his hands. Open the door and go. Just slip out.
A keening sound shivered in the silent room.
When did you become a voyeur? About thirty seconds ago evidently.
Disgusted, he put his hand on the door and stalled when she whispered, “Come on ... yes ...”
Oh, hell. He knew what came next and turned toward her without another thought beyond needing her to come apart with his hands on her.
He crossed the room in two steps and climbed on the bed, reaching down to lift the edge of the T-shirt she wore. His T-shirt.
She stilled. Passion dissolved into an icy order. “Get out.”
But she was still breathless as if she’d been outrunning gunfire. She wasn’t getting off that easily. Or maybe she would.
He answered in a quiet voice. “No.”
“You had your chance. Go fuck yourself.”
He lowered his head and took a nipple between his teeth, biting carefully.
She arched up and shook, still hanging at the edge, close to her orgasm.
He pushed her arm away, ending her self-service program, and suckled her breast. He pressed her back down to the bed and spread his hand across her stomach, then he started grazing his fingers lightly over her skin. He circled lower and lower, pausing before his fingers touched her mound.
Tremors built and shook through her body.
He ran his tongue lighlty over the nipple and it beaded into a hard tip.
“Do something, dammit,” she growled at him.
He smiled around the smooth breast and slipped his fingers down between her legs, but still not touching the heat churning there.
She moved her hips up, trying to help his fingers find the right place.
Did she really think he couldn’t find that spot?
She was shaking so hard the bed was trembling.
He released her breast and she cursed him then ordered, “Either fuck me or get off me.”
That’s all she expected out of him. To get fucked.
What had happened to the woman who cooed to him to make love to her?
