by Tricia Jones
“Hmm.” He drew in a breath, preparing to ask the question he’d been burning to ask and yet had been putting off. “Lovers?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Pissed anyone off lately?”
She met his gaze full on. “Only you, it seems.”
He smiled at that. Something about her. “I mean have you ditched anyone recently. Some old flame who might be bearing a grudge or two.”
“No. My last relationship ended amicably enough.”
“Did he have any political connections? Move in Colcannon’s circles?”
She pursed her lips, considering, then shook her head. “He’s an anesthetist. I met him through my father. We still meet up for coffee now and then, but he’s with someone else now.”
Saul didn’t much care for the surge of fire in his belly or the way his chest tightened. Shit. What was he—some teenager with the snits because the girl he wanted had actually been around the block? Okay, although he was being an idiot, he still intended to have this doctor guy checked out.
“Ever dated anyone remotely connected with politics?”
“No.”
“Any alliances yourself? Volunteer at rallies, that sort of stuff?”
She shook her head. “I’m not being much help… Oh, wait. I’m currently being considered as an adviser on a government quango that’s being set up to look into educational testing on preschool children. My vice-chancellor put my name forward because of the research I did for my doctorate. Do you think that might be a connection somehow?
Saul raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips. “Could be. It’s a government connection. Is Colcannon involved in any way?”
“Not that I know of. He isn’t directly involved with education.”
“I’ll check it out anyway.” He nodded to her bag, which she’d placed on a chair. “Any spare paper in there?”
“I think so.”
She unclasped the bag and scrambled around inside. Every woman he’d ever met seemed to carry enough to fill a small filing cabinet in their purses, and Mia was no exception. What seemed like minutes later, she pulled out a wad of A4 lined paper. Placing it on the table she smoothed it out with her hand, pulled off the top copy, which had what looked like a scribbled list, then slid the remainder toward him.
He retrieved a pen from the inside pocket of his jacket. It had a small black feather attached to the top of the barrel, which, while a little worse for wear, still fluttered as he pressed the top down.
“Nice pen.”
He looked up to find Mia smiling. “A present from my mother. She heard somewhere that black feathers bring good luck.”
“Is she superstitious?”
“Depends on her mood. I think she’s dabbled with pretty much everything. Likes to hedge her bets I guess.”
“I somehow thought she’d be fairly religious. Your name…Saul. It’s fairly unusual. Biblical.”
“Yeah well, I arrived bang in the middle of her born-again phase. For which I can only be thankful. I could have ended up going through life with a name like Zeus or Odin.”
She laughed, then tapped the withered feather. “Looks like it’s been around a while. How long since she gave it to you?”
“Five years or so.”
“Has it been lucky?”
If you didn’t count getting shot. “Pretty much.” He was distracted a moment by the concern that dulled her amazing eyes. Hell. He wanted to touch her. So damn bad it was like a physical pain in his gut. “Hey. What’s with the worried look? We’ll work this out.”
“I know, well at least I hope we will. It’s just that I can’t think what this is all about. It’s starting to really freak me out.”
Another reason he wanted…needed…to hold her. He wasn’t entirely sure how much longer he could hold out before doing just that and kissing her as if his life depended on it. If for no other reason than to comfort, reassure, make her realize everything was going to be okay. That he’d make it okay.
Shit. When had he turned into King freaking Kong?
He cleared his throat and offered her the pen. “First off, write down the names of everyone you know who is up for selection to that quango, then jot down the basics of the research you did. I know,” he said at her questioning look, “it’s a long shot. But we’ve got to explore all possibilities.”
“If this has a link to Colcannon.” She rolled the pen in her hand. “How are we supposed to find that link?”
“Let’s hope we don’t need to. I’ve got Mason at the office checking other avenues, like seeing if the ring has been the subject of an insurance claim recently. We can’t rule out that Colcannon might have had the ring stolen, or the possibility one of your students has sticky fingers. It’s nebulous, but I’ve known some pretty weird coincidences coming together to form pretty solid solutions in the past.”
She gave him a lopsided smile. “You got the ball rolling on those investigations before you confronted me about a relationship with Colcannon.”
He shifted in his seat. “So?”
“So, that tells me you didn’t really believe your accusation.”
“I had to follow through with—”
“I know that.” She patted his hand. “I still want to believe it’s a prank of some kind.”
“Something else we can’t rule out.” And if he found out it was the work of one of her students, he’d make the little creep’s life a living hell. “Okay, start writing.”
Several minutes later, he tucked the list she’d given him into his jacket pocket.
“I’m not sure any of that’s going to help.” Mia handed the pen back to him. “But it feels good to be doing something proactive. It makes me feel a little more in control of things.”
Smiling, he drew a line down the center of a blank page. “Let’s see if we can keep that theme going. We’ve got the notes being sent to your office, hand delivered. Same thing with the ring.” He wrote that in the left column, but drew an arrow across to link them to the right. “We’ve got the ring last registered to Colcannon.” Saul wrote that only in the right.
“The notes…mine and beloved.” He wrote that across both columns, again with an arrow. “Then we have what I have I give to you” and the whole forgiveness thing with that Mark Twain quote.” Saul wrote it down in the same way.
“I’ve gone over that time and time again. I can’t think of anything bad that’s happened that would warrant my forgiveness. Except the mugging, of course, but the note came before that.” She hesitated, then shook her head. “I know this sounds dramatic, but something’s been going through my mind. You don’t think…I mean, it’s probably ridiculous and I’m letting my imagination run away with me but, you don’t think it’s like a build-up to something someone’s going to do to me, do you? Sort of begging my forgiveness, giving me a gift, before they plan to do something awful.”
“No, I don’t think that,” he lied, because damn if the very same thought hadn’t thundered through his mind a time or two. “And even if I did, we’re going to catch this son of a bitch before he sends anything else.”
He wrote mugging, again linking it to the right column with an arrow. Mia leaned across. “Why are you doing that thing with the arrow?”
“Just seeing how much of this could link with Colcannon. Since he’s our only real lead right now. Technically, there’s nothing so far that couldn’t link to him in some way.”
Their coffee and brandy arrived and while they drank they went over the list again. By the time they left the bar, a light sleet was falling making the cars and pavements slippery. Mia linked her arm through Saul’s and he couldn’t stop the warmth of her touch from seeping through his coat and into his flesh. He placed his hand over hers where it rested on his arm. She looked up and smiled at him and he felt the snap of his tenuous control.
Edging her back against a shop doorway, he slid his arms around her waist and tucked her up against him. In her eyes he saw the answer to the question that stormed throu
gh him and he pressed his mouth to hers.
He’d meant to take it slow, to ease her into the kiss, but the first touch of her warmth and every piece of restraint he possessed vanished.
Mia didn’t want slow and she didn’t want tentative. At the first touch of Saul’s mouth against hers something inside her sighed. She wouldn’t deny herself any longer, wouldn’t try and convince herself that she didn’t want him. The way he kissed her—as if something equally urgent had been released inside him—gave her the stimulus to respond in equal measure.
He tasted of coffee, of brandy, and something unique and primitive. In response, blood raced through her system, urging her on and making her throw caution to the wind.
She felt the loss of his mouth as he moved back a little. “We need to get out of here.”
She wouldn’t annoy them both by feigning reticence. “Where?”
“My place is close.”
It wasn’t especially close and took them a good twenty minutes before the taxi dropped them outside a huge Edwardian terraced house. Saul paid the driver, grabbed her hand, and all but pulled her up the half-dozen stone steps to the front door.
With his free hand he dug into his jacket pocket for his key and seconds later she was propelled up another flight of stairs. He opened the door to his apartment and Mia’s first thought was of space and light. Minimalist furnishings in largely monotone colors with only the bolder colors of red, green, and blue splashed on the walls via abstract prints.
With his heated gaze fixed on hers, Saul took her bag and helped her out of her coat. He tossed them both on a nearby chair, before shucking off his own coat and throwing it to join hers. His arms banded around her and he kissed her with an intensity she craved. There was no need for any pretense. They both knew the score. What they wanted. Needed.
He kissed along her neck, up toward the lobe of her ear. She wrapped her arms around him, loving the heat of him, the intensity of his possession.
“Tell me what you want, Mia.” He ran his mouth along her throat. “Tell me.”
“I want…” When she hesitated, he pulled back a little. She swallowed. “I want…what Mona Wilkes had.”
For a moment he simply stared at her, then his mouth split into that all-too-familiar grin. Sexy as hell. “You’ve got it.”
He took her hand again, lifted it to his mouth and kissed her knuckles so tenderly her heart stuttered a little. He led her through the living room and into the adjoining bedroom. She had a chance for a brief survey of the surroundings—black and white again, this time with very little color punctuating the starkness—but then Saul’s arms were around her. He kissed her long and easy, making her hormones swirl and the need for him pushed heat between her legs.
She eased her mouth from his. “This all seems a bit surreal.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m throwing my usual caution to the wind here. I hadn’t actually made the decision to sleep with you. At least not tonight.”
“We won’t be doing that much sleeping.”
His grin made her smile, even though her legs felt weirdly shaky. “You’re so sure of yourself.”
“Not always. And most definitely not when you’re looking at me as if you might suddenly change your mind.”
She laughed at his frown, and pressed her fingers to his forehead. “I won’t change my mind.” She stepped out of his arms and drew in a much needed, calming breath. “I just need to steady myself a minute.”
Having none of it, Saul yanked her back against him. “I like you unsteady.”
“See. That’s what I mean. So sure of yourself.”
He slipped one of the three buttons that formed the bodice of her dress. “You talk too much.” He released another. “You try and reason too much.” And another.
“I like to feel in control.”
“I know, but not tonight. Not with me.” He eased the dress from her shoulders and pushed it away until it fell to the floor. “Hell. My prissy professor wears sexy lace undies.”
“So?”
“So, I like it. You’re trembling.” He ran his hands down her bare arms. “Are you cold?”
She shook her head. Right then, she wasn’t sure she’d ever feel cold again.
“Scared?”
“No. I’m not scared. I’m terrified.”
He frowned. “That wasn’t the plan.”
“But it’s the reality.” Annoyed with herself, she heaved out a sigh. “Just ignore me.”
He continued to rub her arms. “I’m hardly likely to do that. Look, as much as it pains me to say this, if you’ve changed your mind—”
“I haven’t. I just don’t do this very often and certainly not with someone I don’t know that well.” She placed her hands on his arms and ran her fingertips along his warm flesh. “I want you, Saul. I think that’s what scares me. I usually plan things out to the nth degree, look at it from all angles and viewpoints, this way and that. Only then do I make a decision. I want to tell myself that I shouldn’t be wanting you this much, but I can’t.”
“Halleluiah.”
She laughed. “Now why is that exactly the right thing for you to say? Exactly what I need to hear right now?”
“Want me to say it again? Just so it sinks in?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’ve got it okay.” Slipping her hands down to his chest she began releasing the buttons of his shirt. “You’ve got more of these than I do. Something about that isn’t entirely fair.”
“Take your time,” he ground out, as her fingers grazed each section of his exposed flesh. “On second thought, why don’t you speed things up a little?”
When he ran his hands down her back, over her hips, she shivered. “I love the feel of your hands on me. I probably shouldn’t, but I do anyway.”
His fingers dug in a little more. “What is it about this between us that scares you so much?”
“It’s all moving too fast. As I said I like to plan, to prepare. To get my head around things.”
“Sometimes it’s good to go with the flow”. Slowly, he moved his hands around her hips, cupping her backside. “Just to see what happens.”
She released the last button of his shirt and drew the sides away to reveal a muscled chest and abdomen. “Except we already know what’s going to happen, don’t we?” She looked up and met his intent gaze. “And I already know I’m not going to regret it.”
“Then I don’t see a problem.”
She shook her head again. “Like I said, ignore me.” She feathered her fingertips along the hard muscle and sinew of his chest. “Make me go with the flow.”
When he smiled, her heart turned over. God. She really was in trouble. She hadn’t lied when she’d told him she wouldn’t regret it, and she already knew that being with him once wouldn’t be enough. Nowhere near enough.
Saul’s hands slid up her back and with surprising adeptness for a man with such large hands, he unfastened her bra. He slid the straps from her shoulders and drew the bra away to throw it on the floor. His hot gaze raked over her and in that moment she felt more feminine and desired than ever before.
He slipped his thumbs over her hardening nipples, teased the buds until her knees gave way. Steadying herself, she laid her hands on his arms then slid off his shirt.
Her breasts made contact with his hot, hard chest and Mia sucked in a breath, the sound swallowed by his mouth claiming hers. She felt herself being maneuvered toward the bed, her knees hitting the edge before she landed on the mattress with Saul on top of her. He froze momentarily, his body tensing, but his mouth never left hers.
Reaching around his neck, she pulled him even closer. Blood raced through her veins, shocking her with its intensity. She ran her hands over his back, relishing the heat and strength she found there. Their labored breathing added to the erotically charged atmosphere. Mia didn’t resist when Saul’s knee coaxed its way between her legs, his hard length pressing her heated core. He kissed along her jaw, down her throa
t, and Mia tilted her chin in response, desperate for everything he could give her.
Where had all this need in her been hiding? She hadn’t known she could respond so fervently to a man’s touch. But then Saul was like no other man she’d ever known. Not that two previous lovers made her an expert. Yet with Saul she responded to every caress, every kiss, with equal passion.
She stroked along his back, her hands stilling momentarily when his mouth covered her breast. Arching up, she drove her fingers into his dark hair, loving the low groan of his response. He slid a hand down her stomach, pushing his fingers inside the lace.
At the first touch of his hand to her feminine heat, she gave a strangled sound. He didn’t appear to react, but kept up the relentless pressure of his mouth on her breast. His fingers pressed lightly down and she arched into his hand. Too soon he released her, and she wanted to protest at the loss. But he shifted, working her panties down her legs then threw them onto the floor. He kissed her abdomen, making her shiver with nerves and delicious anticipation, until finally he pressed his mouth to her heat.
She cried out, arched up more, cried out again. Before she could do anything, think anything, the world began to spin. She climaxed. Hard. Floating and falling in a miasma of bliss.
She lay there trying to calm her desperate breathing, while Saul stood beside the bed and yanked off his shoes and trousers. Gloriously naked and aroused, she admired him through half closed eyes, her breath hitching when it came to rest on the long, deep scar across his hip. Remembering the way he had tensed as they’d fallen onto the bed, she was about to ask him if he was okay when he shook his head.
“Later,” he said, his voice husky and determined. “It’s fine.”
He pulled his wallet from his discarded trousers and retrieved a foil packet. As he sheathed himself, she tried to steady her breathing, her beating heart, but it was a futile exercise. He moved over her, nudging her legs apart and hooking one arm under her knee to raise her leg. He entered her slowly, and she had a second to wonder how a man as aroused as he was could exert such exquisite control.
She reached for him, wanting him, wanting everything about him to be hers. Just for that moment, just for that night. She met each thrust, marveling that another orgasm built so quickly and desperately within her. Soon they were soaring together in a desperate journey to who knew where. All she knew was that she didn’t want to return.
