“Our guess is that their attendance is an attempt to buy a politician—or ensure that one stays bought, depending on how long ago they got to know Tim Burke,” Kane replied. “As long as we stay out of their way, I think we’ll be good.”
“A little late for that,” Holly muttered.
Bravo zeroed in on the comment. “What do you mean?”
Kane explained what happened with Enzo, and Bravo laughed. “Damn, you two have some serious cojones.”
Holly blushed at the praise.
“We did what we had to do,” Kane snapped. “Now let’s get on with this.”
Bravo’s brows shot upward. He slid off the bed and headed for the door, footsteps quick and solid. “Works for me. You two work out whatever the hell is going on here. I’m going to take a shower and put on some clean clothes.”
The door slammed shut behind him.
Arms crossed, Holly shook her head. “What is wrong with you?”
Chapter Nine
It was a good question—what the hell was he doing? He was the mission leader, and instead of leading, he was acting like a jealous asshole. Camera in hand, Kane headed out of the bedroom and toward the garden. Earlier, he’d seen a ceramic chicken along the path, and they should at least look like they tried to win the scavenger hunt. Holly followed, arms still crossed.
If she were a cartoon, he was sure he’d see steam coming out of her ears.
He couldn’t blame her. He’d acted like an ass, and all because of Bravo, who didn’t deserve the animosity. It wasn’t Bravo’s fault that women fell all over themselves when he was around.
Even Holly.
He hadn’t missed the way she looked at the other agent.
“Are we going to talk about what happened?” Holly asked while he snapped a picture of the statue. They were in the same garden they’d talked in yesterday before the race. It smelled like a thousand flowers.
There wasn’t much to say other than admitting he was jealous, and he wasn’t about to confess that to a woman who kissed him and then made googly eyes at another man less than twenty-four hours later. “No.”
She grabbed his arm, knocking the camera to the ground. “I don’t get you,” she said. “One minute we’re laughing and joking and getting along, and the next you’re the other guy.”
What the hell was she talking about? “The other guy?”
“You know, the jerk.”
Heat rushed from his chest upward, and he knew his face was reddening, not that it mattered. Holly was on a roll, and he suspected there was no shutting her up until she ran out of breath.
“The guy that told Tempe I was a bad team player. The guy that treats me like I’m a child who doesn’t know her job. The guy that doesn’t trust me.”
The guy that doesn’t trust me. There it was, the crux of the issue. Trust. He didn’t trust anyone. But he wanted to. To do that, he needed to know the truth. “Did you sleep with him?”
“The guy that—” She stopped mid-sentence. For a long beat, they stared at each other, and he waited for her to speak. He’d already done enough talking.
“What?” she asked.
He forced the words out, dreading the answer. It was the scenario with Danielle all over again, but he seemed unable to stop it from playing out or from asking the questions he really didn’t want to know the answers to. “Did you sleep with Bravo?”
She took a deep breath then let it slip out. “Does it matter?”
He looked out toward the marina. It did. He reminded himself that she had a life before this mission. Before he found out how much he wanted her, and he had no right to hold that life against her. He shook his head. “Forget I asked. It’s none of my business.”
“I did. Once,” she confessed, surprising him.
It wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear, but there it was—the truth he’d already known. He didn’t want to be right. The thought of her sleeping with Bravo was…he wiped the thought away.
She’s not Danielle. You have no say in her life. Not now. Not before. Still, his hands clenched into fists at the thought of Holly in Bravo’s bed. “The guy’s an ass.”
“I know.”
“So, why?” he asked.
She turned away, but not before he saw the mix of guilt and embarrassment on her face. “We got caught up in the moment. Sometimes things happen in the field.”
Things happen in the field.
Danielle had said almost the same thing. She’d sobbed the words, begging forgiveness. He hadn’t cared. Couldn’t get past the pain of betrayal. So, instead of hashing out the issue, he’d walked out on her, and by the time he was ready to talk to her a few weeks later, she was on to a new operation.
It was never said, but he knew she’d taken the job to get away from the pain they’d caused each other. And under normal circumstances, she’d have been fine. But it hadn’t been a normal circumstance, and she hadn’t been at her best. She’d entered a drug dealer’s compound disguised as a junkie and blown her cover less than twenty-four hours into the mission.
Tempe had broken the news to him and asked him to partner with the DEA to bring her home. He was on the next plane, desperate to save her so they could talk. Maybe they’d work it out. Maybe not. But he owed them both the opportunity to try.
He’d headed the team that breached the building, but when the shooting stopped and all the fires were put out, Danielle had been killed and he had the scar, his constant reminder of what happened when agents got involved with each other.
He rubbed his leg, the scar tissue sensitive beneath the cloth.
“I know,” he said, finally responding to her comment. “People get caught up in the moment.”
Holly sighed, “I don’t plan to revisit my one night with Bravo, if that’s what you really need to know.”
The tightness in his chest eased a notch, surprising him, and he found it easier to breathe. “Yeah. I guess I do.” He rubbed the back of his neck, frustrated with Holly, himself, and the whole damned situation.
A least she admitted the indiscretion and hadn’t forced him to pry it out of her or worse—find the evidence.
He managed a grim smile. “And by the way, you’re right.”
She cocked her head. “I’m right?”
“I don’t trust you. I don’t trust anyone. So, I appreciate you telling me the answer to a question I had no right to ask.”
She sat on the marble bench, her gaze softening. “This would be easier if you stayed a jerk. I can’t stay mad when you agree with me.”
“You want to stay mad?” He retrieved the camera from the dirt. Who would choose to stay pissed?
“It sure makes dealing with you a lot easier.” Her gaze softened even more, and he found himself stepping into her space, wanting to keep the moment. Camera at his side, he snapped a shot, taking a picture of her.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“My finger slipped,” he lied.
She snorted at his insincerity but didn’t seem to care.
“What do you want?” he asked, dreading the answer but needing to know. He knew it wasn’t to stay angry. She wasn’t an angry person, and it was her optimism that he found both admirable and annoying—depending on the situation.
She took a deep breath. “I want what we had this morning and last night. I want you.”
He didn’t know what to say. To do. She stared up at him from her spot on the bench, waiting, watching him with those damned liquid eyes.
For the first time in years, he wanted to trust. Needed to put that kind of faith in another person. Perhaps that kind of trust—that truth—would lead nowhere. Maybe he and Holly were meant to just be friends. Colleagues who shared a kiss and nothing more.
Hell, maybe she would talk about him later. Another confession to another agent.
He didn’t care.
“Kane?” she finally asked, breaking the silence.
Before he could second-guess himself, he pulled her up to her feet, cupped her
face in his hands, and kissed her.
…
Holly slid her fingers into Kane’s hair, the strands falling through her grasp like thick silk. He sat on the garden bench and pulled her into his lap, straddling him.
His hands on her hips, he pulled her against him, and she felt his erection and gasped. The first time they’d had a moment together, she’d stopped them. The second time, Bravo had.
She wasn’t giving Kane a chance to make it a third. As crazy as it felt, she wanted him. He was damaged. A pain in her ass.
And she couldn’t get enough of his hands on her body.
“You realize this is a really bad idea,” Kane whispered, nuzzling her neck before baring her shoulder.
Her breath hissed through her teeth as his hands slid from her hips to her bottom, lifting her. “I don’t care,” she replied.
“You might.”
“I won’t.” She pressed her mouth to his to shut him up.
He pulled her away. “If you’re having second thoughts, you need to tell me. Now.”
Holly smiled. Bravo had taken her to bed without hesitation.
Bravo was an ass.
Bravo had also left her without hesitation, although she’d expected it, so it hadn’t really bothered her. And now here was Kame, offering her an out. Idiot. She didn’t want an out. She wanted him. And if he didn’t shut up, either one might come to their senses. “What I’m thinking is that you need to stop talking.”
He clasped her hand and kissed her palm. “We should find someplace more private.”
Good point. What she planned to do was not something for public consumption.
She looked over his shoulder and spotted the tops of the sailboats over the bushes. It was close, but with everyone on the scavenger hunt in town, odds were that it would be deserted.
“The marina,” she whispered. Putting her on her feet, he took her hand in his and they ran for the dock. Holly found herself laughing at the urgency. The need.
They reached the wharf, and there was nothing to see but boats and nothing to hear but the cry of the gulls and the sounds of the small waves as they lapped at the hull of the vessels. Kane stopped and pulled her against him. She could feel him, already hard, with wanting for her.
Then, they were in motion again. Seconds later, their feet pounded on the dock, wood slats bending under their weight.
They tried the first boat. The cabin door was locked.
Holly flashed him a wide smile. “I have an idea,” and she grabbed his hand, pulling him along. She stopped in front of the Glory, Enzo’s boat.
Kane’s brows shot up. “Probably not a good plan.”
She stepped over the rail. The boat rocked beneath her feet, but she found she didn’t mind it nearly as much as before. She gave the cabin door a pull. It opened. “Are you kidding? It’s a perfect idea,” she countered, hands on her hips, daring Kane to disagree. “He almost killed us and we had to listen to him and Tammi Lynn. He owes us.”
Kane shook his head. “You’re a helluva lot of trouble.”
“Worth. It,” she said, punctuating each word with a shake of her hips.
He hesitated then stepped over the railing. “Sold.”
His hand in hers, he led her down the steps into the cabin. A table folded out from the wall. A single sink. A refrigerator that barely qualified as anything more than a cooler.
And a wide, padded bench that probably folded out into a bed.
Kane sat and dragged her onto his lap, so she straddled him. She buried her head in his neck, inhaling him. He smelled like shampoo and soap—a definite improvement from their time stranded on the island.
She flicked her tongue against his ear, and he groaned. She did it again for the sheer pleasure of listening to his breath deepen as he tried to control himself.
His hands glided under her shirt and up her back, tracing paths on bared skin while she clutched him with her legs, rocking back and forth, both desperate to remove her clothes and not wanting the anticipation to end.
He grabbed her hips. “You need to stop, or this is going to be over a lot sooner than either of us will like,” he said, his words somewhere between a moan and coherent speech.
She laughed and gave a small wriggle. “You can take it.”
He held her close until she was unable to move no matter how hard she tried to break the strength of his grasp.
“You never listen,” he said. “Always have to do things your way.”
Classic Kane, but she heard the laughter in his voice. “You never trust me to know what I’m doing,” she challenged, but in this case, she knew he was right, since he pressed hard between her legs, throbbing. If she didn’t slow down, he’d be finished before either were naked.
She wasn’t going to have that.
She bit his ear. “You win. After all, you’re the boss.”
“I’m the boss?” He wound his fingers through her hair, and their eyes met.
His gray eyes were darker than flint. Dangerous and thrilling. She shivered. This was the Kane she wanted—a man in control of the fire within…but barely.
“Can you say that again?” he teased. “I think I heard wrong.”
She stuck her tongue out at him in reply.
He laughed, lifting her and flipping her onto her back on the bench. “For that, you’re going to pay.”
She doubted that she was going to mind. “Do your worst. I can take it.”
“You say that now.” Slowly, he unbuttoned her shorts then slid them down her hips, leaving her panties on. His breath washed over her stomach, hot and so close, she squirmed.
He traced a path with his tongue, stopping when he reached her sternum.
She closed her eyes as he unbuttoned her shirt and unclasped the front hook of her bra.
Come on. Come on. Please.
As if reading her mind, he took a nipple into his mouth, biting and licking until streaks of pleasure made her toes curl and her breath came in gasps. How could she have ever thought he was a stick in the mud?
She’d never been more wrong about a man.
He tweaked her other breast with skilled fingers, and she arched into him.
“Ready to cry mercy?” he asked, kissing his way back down her body, pausing at her stomach. She shifted toward him, showing him what she wanted. He ignored the silent pleas, and instead, ran a thumb under the waist of her panties, teasing and taunting her with possibilities.
“Not a chance,” she said, although surrender was starting to sound appealing.
He slid his fingers farther under the waistband, brushing against her and making her gasp and squirm, eager for more tension. A little more. Just a little.
So close.
He laughed. “You sure?”
Smart-ass. She’d never been more positive of anything in her life. “Do your worst.”
He slid her panties off with a flourish and knelt between her thighs, his mouth replacing his hand, his tongue sliding down. Teasing. Tasting.
There. “Oh God.” Her climax tumbled over her like a rogue wave. She groaned as the world disappeared. His mouth moved, extending the pleasure until she whimpered and tears wet her cheeks.
He let her pause, and the world returned, hazy and glowing.
“I told you,” he said.
She glanced at him through her lashes. He kneeled between her thighs, and she wondered when he’d stripped and where he had found a condom. Trust Kane to be the Boy Scout and have one handy.
He slid inside her, and she didn’t care about anything other than the man in her arms.
Her muscles, still tense and tingling, clamped down, and she squeezed, both pushing herself back toward the edge of orgasm and making him gasp at the same time. “I told you, I’m an acrobat,” she whispered. “I have superb muscle control. Everywhere.”
“Worth it,” he replied, but his eyes rolled back in his head when she did it again.
She shivered in his arms, her bare body sliding along his, the rough scar on his
thigh a sharp contrast to his otherwise unmarred skin. All coherent thought faded as he slid inside her from tip to base, each stroke bringing her closer.
His breath in her ear, he grew harder, thicker, and she knew he was close. She wrapped her knees around his hips, wanting the friction.
So close.
He increased his pace, his face buried in her hair, and she pressed against him, not wanting the moment to end but knowing there was no stopping it. Not now.
“Holly,” he groaned her name, arms stiffened as his hips pressed into her, and she felt him shudder as orgasm took him.
She clenched her muscles one more time and joined him.
…
How long had they slept, half-naked and coiled around each other on the too-small bench? Holly wondered.
Ten minutes? Ten hours?
Not long, she realized. The sun hadn’t set yet. They still had time before the auction, so no hurry.
She didn’t want to rush. She was satisfied. Happy. More content than she’d been in a long time. Kane might be a pill on occasion, but all that focus and diligence paid off when it came to sexy time.
“You’re amazing.” He nuzzled her ear then kissed the tip of her nose. “That was worth the wait. You’re worth the wait.”
She grinned, knowing she probably looked like an idiot but not caring.
“You too,” she said, gliding her nails down his back, his thighs, and tracing the scar she’d first seen in the locker room just days ago.
He tensed.
She kissed his mouth. “Does it hurt?”
He shook his head, his eyes hardening for a flicker before he blinked the ache away. “Not anymore.”
She imagined it did at one time. She’d seen scars on other agents and most wore them like badges of honor. But she’d never heard chatter about what happened to create something so wide and ragged on Kane’s perfect body.
“Are you going to ask how I got it?” Kane asked.
She wanted to, but she knew how he felt about prying, and she didn’t want to end this moment. Not yet. That would come soon enough. “You’ll tell me if you want to,” she replied.
His eyes widened. “I’m shocked. When do you not try to steal information?”
Undercover With the Enemy Page 11
