“When can I get out of here?”
He pumped up the pressure and watched the dial. “The poison was hard on your body. I’d like to keep you under observation for a while.” As he stared at the scale, for longer than usual, his left hand pulled two cell-phones from his pocket and slid them under her pillow. “Your blood pressure’s fine.”
“Thank you.”
“You took a nasty bump to your head.” He traced her injury with his finger, a caring more than a professional touch. She stared at him.
“Light concussion. You’ll be fine as long as you avoid bonking your head. I’ll give you pain killers that won’t make you sleepy. Go easy on them. They could upset your stomach.” He slipped a gun under her sheet. It was amazing what he could hide in his scrubs.
A doctor with a sardonic smile and interesting gifts. CIA? MI6? Some friggin acronym. Seriously sexy, whoever he was. Oh, she needed to get her head out of the gutter. Hmmm. So Bakari’s people brought her to the hospital. She was admitted, had her stomach pumped and was now under observation. Did one of Bakari’s people remove her weapons and phones from her body? Maybe. But Bakari would have taken over and put her health as the highest priority. She rubbed her arm where the blood pressure sleeve had been.
If only she could get rid of her headache. It’s really hard to think with her head pounding with pain.
The doctor left. A nurse came in with pills. She took them with water and fell into a deep sleep with her hand resting on her gun under her pillow.
In the middle of the night—or at least it felt like the middle of the night—her door opened and a man came in. It was a man, because he smelled so good. The door closed. No conversation. Was it a dream? She fell back to sleep.
The subdued London morning light shone through her window when she awoke. That was the first thing she noticed. The second, was the man sitting on the chair beside her hospital bed, staring at her.
35
Chapter Thirty-Five
Sebastian’s sun-streaked blond hair fell loose to his broad, athletic shoulders. The long angles on his face, lined with worry, spoke of a man who’d been suffering. As he searched her face, his blue eyes, the color of the morning sky just after dawn, filled with more emotion than could be spoken in a lifetime. His full lips trembled. “Sadie, mijn liefje…”
Sadie wanted to get mad at him, wanted to tell him to go away, wanted to tell him she could manage on her own, but when she opened her mouth the words wouldn’t come out. She sighed.
He wore a shoulder holster with a gun. She’d never seen him with one before, but it looked good on him. Her warrior, standing guard. Warrior? How the hell did he get rid of Dead Eyes?
“What the hell took you so long?” she said, giving him a crooked smile.
“I was busy.” He smirked.
“Busy doing what?”
“Trying to forget you.”
His words gripped her like a cold hand at the base of her spine. A shudder ran through her body, but she looked away pretending not to care. “How’d that go for you?”
“After a couple cases of beer and some truly fine, double-malt scotch, I was making progress, but then Mitch called.”
“Mitch?”
“Said you hadn’t been in contact and your cell had gone dead.” He brushed his finely chiseled chin with his hand. “I got the next flight.”
“Sebastian.” How could she sum up her feelings?
“I know, Sadie. I know you better than you know yourself. You still care, you’ve always cared. It’s the damn spy world that…” He swallowed. “But for right now, let’s not worry about that. To hell with all of it. Just rest. I want you to get better. We can figure us out later.”
“Us?” The certainty in his voice warmed her from the inside out. He still wanted to be together, even though she’d told him to get lost—twice, or was it three times? He wasn’t the best at hearing her, but then maybe he listened with his heart and not his ears.
“There will always be an us, Sadie. No matter what you choose to do with your future, there will always be an us.” Intensity built in the blueness of his eyes until they shone with energy. He had told her many times that he wasn’t good at communicating, but he was wrong. He could make himself unmistakably clear.
“You mean I still have three wishes?”
A slow smile spread mischievously across his face, the boy-scout one that had disarmed her when they first met. “Have you come up with any ideas yet?”
“Ideas?” She pulled a hand through her hair. She must look a mess. “Ideas of what to do with you? That’s not the problem. The problem is whittling them down to only three.”
He laughed, his deep, hearty laugh, and for a moment it seemed like they’d got their old couple-thing back; the Sadie and Sebastian dynamite lovers thing; the we don’t care what the rest of the world is doing as long as we’re together thing; the wake up in the morning and wish the night had never ended thing.
“Let’s see if I can help. Do any of them involve hospital beds?” He stood up and moved towards her, towering above her bed with his six and a half feet of solid muscle.
She grinned. “Not here.” Although… She really did want to jump his bones; not just for the pure erotic thrill of it—and that would be mighty fine—but for that deep intimacy she felt every time they made love.
“We could get a hotel room.” He reached down and pushed curls away from her face with the most tender of touches. “I could play doctor.”
“What did you do with Dead Eyes?”
He smiled as he shrugged. “Last I saw him an Interpol officer with a thick Scottish accent was marching him down the hallway. Something about his passport.”
Their friend Seamus. She laughed at the thought of the two men together, the evil Arab henchman spitting venom and the Celtic warrior citing the laws of the land and a pile of bullshit. She laughed, then stopped because it hurt her throat too much. The lining of her esophagus felt like it was ripped apart and on fire.
Sebastian winced. His eyes softened to a mellow hue, dripping with compassion. “How do you feel?”
Watching him respond to her pain gave her heart another squeeze. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I don’t know what part of me hurts more. My throat feels like someone lit a fire in it, and my head feels like sumo wrestlers are trying to tango in it.”
He laughed low in his throat as he stroked her hair with his gentle touch. “Just another day at the office. On a scale of one to ten?”
“Five.”
That mischievous glint in his eye came back, the one she teased him about. “Then let’s get that hotel room.”
36
Chapter Thirty-Six
They left the hospital through a back exit, walked two blocks and grabbed a cab. Sadie, wearing a trench coat Sebastian had brought her and hospital slippers, slid into the back seat quickly. Sebastian followed.
“Where to?” The driver, a young Asian woman with spiky hair and a nose ring, looked at them in the rear view mirror with clouded-over eyes as if she wanted his shift over yesterday.
Sadie nudged Sebastian with her elbow and took the lead. “Look, I’m hiding from my husband. I want a nice hotel, off the radar, if you know what I mean. There’s an extra hundred euro for you if you totally forget ever meeting us.” Sebastian would have that in his pocket.
The driver’s eyes came alive and she raised a brow. “Two hundred and I’ll take you to the finest back street lover’s den I know. And no one will be the wiser.”
Sadie opened her mouth to object, but Sebastian spoke. “Deal.” He grabbed Sadie`s hand and held it for the rest of the journey, looking out the window and saying nothing.
The morning light, subdued by clouds and drizzle, etched the city landscape. People scurried in every direction, pursuing their lives. In Amsterdam the morning commuters would be riding on bicycles, giving big hellos to their friends as they passed. In New York, people would be bobbing their heads at acquaintances as they ru
shed for the subway with a hot coffee in their hands. And in Venice… Ah, in Venice the people would be knocking back espressos and enjoying delicate pastries at their favorite café. They would speak in rapid Italian with their hands as much as their mouths. Reflecting off the moody, blue waters of the Grand Canal the morning light would be doing its magic. But being in wet London with Sebastian felt mighty fine.
Leaning into his body, soaking in his warmth, his strength, his manliness, she listened to his heart-beat, slow and steady. Maybe it wasn’t too late to take back what they’d lost.
Ten minutes later they were dropped off at a boutique hotel. The small entrance had no footmen or security. Perfect.
On the way up in the elevator, Sebastian pulled Sadie into his arms and they kissed long hard and deep. Her body lit on fire, but her mind hit the pause button.
The longer they were together, the harder it would be to pull apart. He couldn’t get in the way of nailing Bakari. Her mind screamed “impossible!” Did she really think she could be a spy and have a relationship with a man? Who was she kidding?
But then he kissed her on her sweet spot, the one just behind her ear. That one. His erection pushed against her. She gasped as desire and love flowed through her with the power of a tidal wave. Her mind ceased functioning.
***
Sebastian’s hands trembled as he held Sadie in his arms. He wanted this woman more than anything in the world. But she kept pushing him away, denying what they had, telling him it was over… when they were just beginning. If she’d only listen to him. The heady smell of her perfume burned in his nostrils. Her soft breasts pushed against his chest. Her breathing hitched as he leaned in for another kiss. If they made love one more time, maybe that would take them back to where they’d been, to that sense of togetherness that couldn’t be touched by anything in the fucking world. And didn’t fall apart.
She tasted like honey and magic. Visceral memories of their sex life flooded into his system, making him want her even more. Sadie did that to him. She was more than a lover, more like an addiction. He whispered in her ear, “Give us a chance, Sadie. One more chance.” He wanted to make love to her, push into her warmth, touch her deeply in her body and soul.
She moaned deep in her throat.
***
The room smelled like hotel rooms everywhere, cleaning fluids mingling with the body odors of the masses. But she didn’t care how it looked or how it smelled. All she cared about was Sebastian. She undid the buttons of her coat and it fall to the floor. He locked the door with a dead bolt.
Turning to face him, she smiled. He lifted his chin and strode over to her, scooping her into his enormous arms, pulling her to him, so close she could feel his heart beat. Not only was he technically the best lover she’d ever had, he was the most enthusiastic. Pure lust burned through her veins. Nothing felt better than his embrace. Nothing—in the world. But…
“Sebastian?”
He groaned. “I don’t want to talk.” He lifted her and took her mouth with his in a long passionate kiss that sent shivering currents of passion through her body. She twisted her legs around him, bringing his erection closer to her. She pushed into him. Oh god, how she wanted him, needed him. He felt so good… tasted so good.
Wait. What was she doing? She couldn’t keep playing with him, knowing that their relationship was impossible. It wouldn’t be right to let his… their… their feelings deepen. She needed to be more… mature. Or something.
Carefully he placed her on the bed. Towering above her, he undid his shirt and threw it on the floor. She bit her bottom lip. His broad, muscular chest, sculpted like a Greek god, made her want to whimper. He ripped off his pants. His erection was truly magnificent.
For a minute he stood looking at her, but his expression wasn’t that of a confident lover. Shadows of doubt clouded his eyes, and his lips trembled. Gone was the sexy bad-boy grin she’d become used to before they made love; the one that whispered he had many plans for her; the one that never failed to make her wet, even just thinking about it. Because Sebastian always delivered.
Unable to stand the anticipation any longer, she reached for him, wanting to comfort him like an old friend, wanting to fuck him like a new lover and wanting to steady herself in an emotional world that refused to make sense.
He took her hand in his and looked into her eyes. But he made no move. Damn it. He always made a move. And move… and move… and move… But not this time.
“Touch me,” she said, hearing the husky need in her own voice. “I need you to touch me.” Make me feel whole. Make me feel like there’s an us again. Make me feel.
Releasing her hand, he lay down beside her and propped himself up on one arm. He pushed the hair away from her face and leaned in for a kiss. His lips were gentle at first, then more intense as his tongue entwined with hers. It felt good to be together… to play, but she wanted more from him, much more. She reached for his penis and he groaned.
His hand slid down her body tracing first her breast and then heading for her center. His touch lit her on fire and an unbearable ache, low in her belly, tightened like a drum. His thumb stroked her clit as one of his fingers sank into her vagina and played.
Oh, how she missed this. How she missed him. She moaned as she pressed her hips up to meet his hand. More. She wanted more. Firmly he stroked her nub as his finger caressed the walls of her vagina with a rhythm that drove her wild. Just when she thought she couldn’t hold on for one more minute, his finger found her spot and she exploded, screaming out as the tension in her body shattered into a million pieces of ecstasy.
Her orgasm ripping apart not only her body’s control, but her heart’s.
He nuzzled her neck as he rolled on top of her. “I love you,” he whispered.
“I know,” she whispered back.
Entering her softly, he filled her with his strength, like a lion claiming his lioness. This must be what heaven felt like. Sex with Sebastian took her to a whole new dimension. They moved together in unison to a rhythm all their own.
He came in one hard thrust and she wrapped her legs around him to bring him in as close as she could. Her body exploded in pleasure. He shuddered as he lay entwined in her legs.
Spent and satisfied they held one another for a long time.
Could she ever really let Sebastian go?
“Hey, Stud, how do you feel about puppies?”
37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Khalid walked slowly through his father’s neighborhood. Why did I ever think coming to London would be a good idea? There were few people on the street and lots of weird shaped shrubbery. A young woman pushed a baby stroller neared him. She had nice boobs, but she didn’t make eye contact.
Wandering back to the house, he continued to take inventory of the area, but nothing caught his interest, nothing out of the ordinary. Avoiding the weird maid-in-black with the suspicious eyes, he headed for his room. His father had gone to the hospital with Sadie. It seemed the man was always surrounded by drama.
Once inside his room Khalid laid out his crystals, tarot cards, candle and incense on the desk. He pulled out his wand, and held it in his hand feeling its energy pulsate from the spirit world into him. Yes, this was what he needed to do.
He lit the candle and the incense and looked back at the door. He had locked it, but would that be enough? He couldn’t be disturbed in the middle of conjuring the spirits, so he pushed a lounge chair against it. Nothing this simple would keep the likes of his uncle Chasisi or his henchmen out, but it would stop the prying eyes of the stupid maid who kept offering weak tea and biscuits.
Sitting in the chair by the desk, he let memories of his childhood flood through him as the sensual smell of kyphi grew stronger: cinnamon, honey and wine. He indulged in his past, then said a silent prayer of protection.
What he was about to do would take him beyond any protection, but the prayer was a habit. He had been told over and over again that when you allow evil spirits inside
you, they take over. He could no longer avoid evil. His only hope was to control it.
Images of his mother and his fear flowed through him like water through a drain-pipe, until his mind found its peace in the center of the storm. He gained first an emptiness; then from that emptiness a majestic fullness so grand he could barely contain it. Exhaling slowly he felt eternity in his being, all that was and all that will be. He entered into that feeling like a child opening a door to the outside world, and basked in the light of the universe. His chest expanded. His scalp tingled. He had been to the threshold of this moment many times before, but never like this. Never had he felt so fucking powerful. Yes, he concluded, his time had come.
Lifting his wand, he made an eternity symbol in the air. “Demon-goddess, darkness of light, I call on you. Show me the way.”
The light dimmed as a dark smoke that smelled like burning tires filled his consciousness. A bitter taste burned his lips and his senses heightened in fear. A deep, guttural voice spoke, “Let me in. I will show you the way.”
A shuddering shiver ran deep inside him. Part of him wanted to run… to hide. Part wanted to turn back to the light, to beg for sanctuary. After all, doesn’t the light of the universe always forgive? Or is that just a myth for suckers?
As these thoughts and fears battled in his mind, he tried to swallow, but no spit remained in his mouth. His whole body-mind-and-soul squished up against a mirror of darkness, like a black hole, without dimension, without end… pulling at the sinews of his being. Sour sweat poured from his skin soaking into his clothes.
His smell accosted his nostrils. He could barely breathe. From some unfathomable place deep within came a thin voice, he barely recognized as his own. “You have my permission.”
The black smoke coalesced into Ammit, in her hot woman form, naked except for her arcane tattoos. Her other-worldly, orange eyes bored through his, piercing through his body… into his lost soul. “I want the scarab.”
Ancient Danger Page 16
