He took a deep breath. “I knocked.”
She winced. “Yes, I—I realize that now.”
“I called your name. Three times.”
“I’m sorry I scared you.”
“For your own safety you have to be able to hear.”
“You’re right. I wasn’t thinking.” Her tone was apologetic, but her dark eyes, staring so candidly into his, not so much. They...wanted him.
No! He was only here for one reason, and he sure couldn’t keep her safe with his pants down around his ankles. “I have to—check on some things.”
“Now?”
He grabbed his coat, then turned back and pointed a finger at her. “Don’t let anyone—I mean anyone—in this room. I have a key. From now on we’ll use a code. I’ll ask if you checked the weather and if you’re safe, you say yes, if something’s wrong you answer no, got it?”
She nodded.
By the time he returned to the room it was after eight. Gabby was asleep in the big bed. She’d left the bathroom light on, but he would’ve known her whereabouts by the mumbling. Clay smiled when she muttered something about term loans. Maybe she was composing her bank pun of the day.
He stripped down to his shorts, laid his Sig on the coffee table and fell onto the sofa. The conference started early tomorrow and he would need to be vigilant.
For now, he’d done all he could. The hotel manager and security personnel had been alerted. He’d checked all the fire exits and employee entrances.
Sheets rustled on the bed and Gabby mumbled something as she turned. Clay closed his eyes, picturing her in sexy lingerie instead of the flannel pj’s. Picturing her coming to him, peeling off panties, climbing over him... Just stop.
Could he take four more nights of this?
* * *
“ANALYZING CURRENT EVENTS Affecting International Financial Markets?” Clay read the sign on the easel in front of one of the meeting rooms. “This is something actual humans are interested in?”
Gabby blinked at the words, but all she could think about was seeing Clay emerge from the steamy bathroom this morning wearing only a pair of low-riding jeans, toweling his hair dry. She’d caught a glimpse of a couple of tattoos. One of an eagle wrapped in the American flag across the left side of his chest, another on his right upper arm of an anchor with the word Navy over it.
How was she going to concentrate on global markets when she could still picture water droplets trailing down his chest?
She stepped out of the way as other conference attendees filed into the room. “Well, lucky for you, you don’t have to stay. What are you going to do with your free time?”
He seemed taken aback. “What do you think? I’ll be waiting right here. I go where you go.”
“Oh.” Right. He was here as her bodyguard. Of course, she knew that. “I don’t think a real boyfriend would—”
His gaze darted behind her, and then he cupped her jaw in one hand and covered her mouth with his.
It took only a moment for her to stop resisting and melt into his kiss. She couldn’t prevent a little moan of desire as he moved his lips over hers, languorously, thoroughly...then it was over.
She opened her eyes as cool air replaced the warmth of Clay’s mouth.
A throat cleared beside her. “Want to introduce me, Gabby?” James looked at her expectantly and then at Clay.
Her cheeks heated in embarrassment. PDAs were unprofessional. And especially in front of James. When, less than two weeks ago, she’d been on a date with him. What must he think of her? Then she realized: she didn’t care what James thought. About anything.
Clay returned James’s stare through narrowed eyes. “Clay Bellamy.” He extended his right hand.
“James Pender.” He shook Clay’s hand, obviously not recognizing him from the rescue in Paraguay.
Clay put one arm around her shoulders and gazed warmly into her eyes. “I couldn’t stand being away from Gabby for a whole week, so I bought a ticket at the last minute and surprised her at the airport.” He stared at James pointedly, even raising a supercilious eyebrow.
James’s right eye twitched, and then he gave a forced smile. “Well, I’ll see you in there, Gabby.” He nodded and then strolled inside.
“What is it about that guy?” Clay stared after him.
“James?”
“His background check was clear. Still, there’s something...”
Gabby studied James’s retreating figure. “But he was kidnapped, too. And he was mugged with me, as well.”
“What?” Clay let go of her shoulder and turned to face her. “You never mentioned he was with you when you were mugged.”
“I didn’t think it was relevant.”
After scrutinizing her for a few seconds, Clay shrugged. “Maybe it isn’t.” He brushed his lips overs hers. “Have a good day, sweetheart.” Then he moved behind a marble pillar across the hall and took out his phone.
Gabby resisted the urge to bring her fingers to her lips and headed into the room. Sweetheart? How was she supposed to concentrate now? All she wanted to do—all she seemed capable of doing—was reliving the feeling of Clay’s lips on hers. Of his strong hand framing her face. Of spending the rest of the week as his girlfriend.
* * *
CLAY PULLED UP a game on his phone and leaned against the pillar outside the meeting room. Something wasn’t adding up. Neil hadn’t uncovered anything unusual about Gabby’s coworkers. If it hadn’t been for the Snapchat threat, Clay could’ve passed off the mugging, and even the break-in, as coincidence, and the Paraguay kidnapping as exactly what it seemed: criminals motivated by money, with Gabby just a random victim.
And even though the kidnapping in Paraguay hadn’t happened until after the last day of the conference, he couldn’t assume the perp would wait this time. Whether the incidents were related or not, until he knew otherwise, the threat was real. And Gabby’s safety was his first priority.
Gabby.
In her boxy, dark suit and hair pulled back in a plain ponytail, she didn’t look like a seductress. But he’d still wanted her. With her lips still glistening from his kiss, she’d looked at him with that soft expression in her eyes. Made him feel like a somebody. He wanted to box up that feeling and stick it in his pocket. Keep it with him always.
He winced, thinking about that kiss. It could be said that he was taking this boyfriend act a tad too far. But he had to be convincing, otherwise Gabby would be in jeopardy. Still, if she seemed vulnerable, maybe it would flush the stalker out. No. No way. It was a risk he refused to take.
Right.
If he was being honest though, Gabby was a financial whiz, and surrounded by all these brain trust types, he’d thought a kiss might remind her that he was more than a glorified watchdog. Shaking his head at his own unbelievable absurdity, Clay shot a quick text to Neil, and then settled in to do what he’d come here for: keeping Gabby safe.
* * *
DURING THE NEXT couple of days, Gabby’s ability to focus only worsened. Clay followed her from workshop to workshop, holding her hand, touching her arm or her shoulder, brushing his lips against her cheek or temple—though he didn’t kiss her on the mouth again. He would smile down at her as if he was lost in love. How was she supposed to concentrate on the keynote speech at lunch when Clay sat so close, his arm draped around her, his masculine scent driving her wild?
But the nights were the most unbearable. After having him so near all day, to have him turn cold and distant once they entered their room seemed especially cruel. She kept to the bed, going over her notes from the day, while he stayed in the sitting area, mostly on his phone, or checking his gun. She couldn’t take much more.
When she emerged from the bathroom in her pajamas and robe, he’d already turned off the lights, but there was enough ambient light
through the French doors for her to make out the shadows.
He lay silently on the sofa. But she knew he wasn’t asleep. He was too still. Too quiet. He had this way of being absolutely motionless, yet powerfully alert. He had one hand behind his head, one knee bent. The blanket pulled only to his waist, so she had an eyeful of wide shoulders, broad chest and huge biceps.
Intensely aware of him, she took off her robe, crawled into bed. She touched her bare throat out of habit while saying her prayers and felt the loss of her medal acutely. She could sure use Abuelita’s advice right now.
It’d been three days and not one sign of trouble. She’d received no more threats. She felt as if she’d caused a lot of inconvenience for nothing. “Clay?”
“Yeah?” he answered quickly, as if he’d been waiting for her to say something.
“I—I think maybe the threat was a joke. Or...someone trying to scare me into not coming here. But when whoever it was realized it didn’t work, and you were here with me. Maybe there is no danger. Maybe you wasted your vacation time.”
“Don’t worry about it. It was my decision.”
“But you’ve been cooped up in the hotel all week. Don’t you want to ride the funicular up to the Alps, walk through the glacier tunnel, sit in a tavern and taste the chögelipastetli?”
“What the heck is chew-goalee-paste-Italy?”
She giggled. “The travel guide says it’s veal dumplings in a pastry shell. Or there’s cordon bleu, or fondue—”
“I’m good.” His voice sounded strained.
“But—”
“No, we Charlie Mike.”
“What?”
“Charlie Mike. We continue the mission. Now go to sleep.”
Continue the mission? She was just another job to him. She shook her head. Of course she was.
She bit her lip and turned over, punching the pillow into shape. She closed her eyes and tried to think of the workshops she wanted to attend the next day and the formal dinner tomorrow night to mark the close of the conference. Now she wished she’d bought a new gown for the event. Something sexy that would’ve made Clay look twice. Maybe three times.
And why was she still thinking things like that?
She turned over on her other side, restless, aroused. She could hear him breathing, so close by. She was tempted to get up and go over to that sofa and—no. She couldn’t. She flopped onto her back.
Clay cursed. “I swear, Gabriella, can’t you just be still?” He threw back the blanket, strode over to the French doors and ran a hand through his hair. “You’re driving me crazy.”
Stung, she jackknifed up in the bed, folding her arms across her chest. “Feel free to get your own room. Or better yet, go home.”
He spun and stalked to her bedside, hands low on his hips. “Maybe I should.”
She pushed up to her knees and shoved him in the chest. “Then go!”
He barely budged, but with his jaw set, his nostrils flared.
What had she done?
Chest heaving, he scowled at her.
“I’m sorry. I—”
He caught the back of her head in one hand and claimed her mouth with his.
She moaned, threw her arms around his neck and poured all her bottled-up passion into the kiss. He matched her passion, moving his lips over hers. He kissed along her neck, and she rubbed her cheek against his rough jaw. Then his mouth was back on hers, desperate, possessive.
He wrenched away, eyes closed. “I can’t do this.”
She trailed her lips down to his collarbone while her hands caressed his pecs. “We’re safe here. Just for tonight.” She opened her mouth and lightly bit his nipple.
“Gabby.” He clasped her head between his hands, but he didn’t stop her. So she pressed kisses to his taut stomach.
“Don’t you want—” He sucked in a quick breath when she stuck her tongue in his belly button. “To wait?”
“No. I don’t want to wait one...” She kept kissing him, even lower. “More.” Lower. “Second.” She got to the waistband of his jeans and started unbuttoning, but he grabbed her hands.
“I mean, wait for marriage.”
She stilled. Marriage? To the guy who’d acted as if he’d rather be shot than get married? She sat back on her heels. “You want to get married?” She might be falling in love, but she wasn’t ready for—
“Heck, no. Not me. Just...in general. Someday.”
Wait a minute. She was falling in love? And, “in general”? What did that mean? “Why would I—?”
“In the jungle that night. You told me you’d never...”
Oh.
She squirmed. “So, because I— You think that I’m, like, saving myself?”
He splayed his hands low on his hips and dropped his chin, exhaling a deep breath. “Why else would—”
“Lots of reasons.” Reasons she didn’t care to explain. “Look, I’m not—” she folded her arms and grimaced “—saving myself, okay? I have a career, things I want to experience, a life I want to live. I’m not ready to be tied down any more than you are.” Exasperated, embarrassed, she moved to get around him and crawl off the bed. “I just—I thought—”
“Wait.” He grabbed her shoulders and she looked up into his serious face. He bent and she rose up on her knees again, their mouths meeting to taste, to explore. His mouth was magic. He pressed her hips against the hardness behind his zipper. Her arms snaked around his neck again.
With a soft whimper, she fell back and he followed her down onto the bed, kissing her collarbone while he worked the buttons of her pajama top. She wanted to unbutton his jeans but she was too busy running her hands over his bare back and chest.
His muscles rippled beneath her palms as he spread her top open and lowered his head to her breast. His lips closed around one nipple and sent a sweet, tantalizing ache straight to her core. She held him and tried not to cry out as he licked and then suckled first one breast and then the other.
Pajamas. Needed. Off. She struggled to get her arms out of the sleeves and then wiggle free of the bottoms. As she kicked them away he lifted his hips, undid his jeans and stripped out of them. He left her, but only for a second and only for a packet he pulled from his duffel. Then he settled back between her thighs, and returned his attention to her breasts.
The room was too dark. She wanted to see him. See it. She’d gotten only a brief glimpse of narrow waist and flat stomach and a long shadow jutting up from darker curls. But there’d be time later for exploration. For now she’d be happy with just feeling him. And feel him she did. His hard length rubbed against the place she needed him most as he rocked his hips and brought his mouth back to hers.
His kisses had a frantic quality as he fumbled with the packet, then reached between them to rub his fingers between her folds. He groaned.
Was that a bad thing? But he didn’t sound as if it was a bad thing. He slipped a finger inside her and it felt so glorious she lifted her hips. She told him, “More. You.” Geez, she’d been reduced to monosyllables.
He smiled against her lips and slowly guided himself to her entrance, rubbing his penis against her. “Do I need to...go slow?”
“What?” She kissed his jawline.
He lifted his head to look her in the eyes. “You know, be careful?”
“Oh. You mean—” Could she be any more embarrassed? “No. Uh, not any more than you would usually, I don’t think.” He was sweet to ask, but what did she know?
With a nod, he pressed slowly inside, watching her as if she might cry out in pain. But she smiled her encouragement and he didn’t stop until he was seated to the hilt.
It felt nothing like how she’d imagined. There was a fullness, yes, a stretching. He was large. But it didn’t hurt. She’d been more than ready. She studied his face, which had
hardened to granite, his eyes squeezed shut. Then he started to pull out, but she locked her ankles around his flanks.
“Where are you going?”
“Gabby, I’m not going anywhere.” His voice was a steely rasp. He pierced her with a look. “I need to move.”
“Right.” She knew that. Feeling foolish, she dropped her feet to either side of him and he slid almost all the way out and then pushed back in.
Oh, yes, that was—he did it again. And again. Relentless. The friction created a rising pleasure. He’d lowered to his elbows, his chest against hers, so close she thought she could feel his heartbeat. The intimacy was almost too much. She had to hold back her emotions.
He swiped a strand of hair from her face and kissed her as he rocked harder and faster until he’d set up a rhythm that sent her spiraling. As he chanted her name, his arms slipped underneath her and he nuzzled her neck. His pace never wavering.
She wanted to hold him like this forever. She wanted to believe he felt the same way. Being with him, like this, would have to be enough. It was the moment and she was in it. Finally. Gripping his shoulders, she moaned and bucked and reached a pinnacle. She cried out, unable to stop herself. She clung to him until her breathing slowed and a languidness overtook her. Then she realized he’d stilled.
He was watching her with a look of wonder. “You’re beautiful.”
That was when she definitely fell in love.
12
EVENTUALLY HE’D HAVE to go cold turkey, break this need he had, this craving for Gabby to look at him that way. As if he was her very own hero. His brain—what was left of it—knew that she had nothing to compare him to, but his ego was telling him he was a genius at sex.
And speaking of... He was still rock hard and aching. But he’d wanted to watch her without being caught up in his own pleasure, so he’d held off. He’d never done that before. Of course, he’d never been anyone’s first before either.
Gabby closed her eyes and sighed.
“You okay?”
Her SEAL Protector Page 11
