Holding Out For A Hero: SEALs, Soldiers, Spies, Cops, FBI Agents and Rangers

by Piñeiro, Caridad

  She didn’t know whether to be angry or amazed. “And what do you think my problem is then, Dr. Langley?” she asked, crossing her arms. “Since, of course, you’re saying the missing hundred thousand dollars is just a figment of my imagination.”

  Good. There was some color back in her cheeks, a returning combative sparkle in her eyes. “Do you want my professional or personal opinion?” he countered, and not waiting for her reply, went on tour of the house for himself.

  She made an exasperated sound and followed him into the kitchen. “Both, of course,” she said to the broad back, then stuck her tongue out.

  “Cabinet tops need replacing. Sink too.” He looked in the pantry and nodded in approval. “Nice and roomy.” He grinned at the snort coming from behind him. He did enjoy riling her so. Turning around, he continued, “Professionally, I think you could reach your goal, but you’re going to need help with the heavier work. Yours truly is volunteering, so why not just accept it gracefully? Gratefully, even.”

  “Gratefully?” He was making her more and more irritated.

  “Yeah.” They walked out of the kitchen and Nick strolled into the back room. “I like the archways,” he said approvingly. “What’s this room? Sitting room? Study?”

  She chose to ignore his observations. “Gratefully?” she repeated through clenched teeth.

  He let out an exaggerated sigh. “Yeah, showing me your gratitude will earn you points,” he said drolly. “You know, I like this room. You must too, since you sleep here.”

  “How did you...?” Jaymee pursed her lips when he sat on the huge sofa bed at the end of the window and lifting up various articles of clothing, dangled her underwear from a hooked finger. “Give me those!”

  She tried to snatch the cotton and lace triangles from him, but he kept them out of reach. Laughing, he lounged back, his head against the sofa pillow lying on the armrest.

  “Great sofa. I could actually stretch my legs all the way.” Another thought made him frown. “This place is very isolated. I don’t think I like the idea of you alone in this house. Don’t do it any more.”

  That did it. Jaymee launched on top of him, forgetting her weight was meaningless to his muscled strength. “Listen, you overbearing, arrogant man,” she said, ignoring the crooked grin forming on his lips. “I’ll do as I like, sleep where I want. Nobody tells me what to do, much less where to go to bed at night.”

  “Exactly,” Nick agreed in a deceptively mild voice. She was so mad she didn’t notice his own leg curling over hers, effectively trapping her against him. “That’s why you need someone like me to knock some sense into you. Someone could come out to this deserted place and here you are, all alone. Stupid, dangerous idea.”

  Jaymee glared down at him. “This house is locked. I have electricity, so it’s not like it’s dark and deserted. What’s the difference between sleeping here, or at the house, alone? Any man can do it and no one will say a thing, but the moment a woman does it, hah! It’s suddenly soooo dangerous!”

  She scowled when he waved her underwear at her again. She stretched out over his body, trying to reach them. Too late, she realized his trick, as his other arm went around her waist, arranging her until she lay across him, thigh to thigh, chest to chest. She was suddenly aware of another part of him, nudging into her. Her eyes widened as she realized her predicament.

  Nick’s smile was devilish. “Exactly,” he said again, curling his other leg over hers, locking her limbs with effective ease. He deliberately nudged against her again. “You can sleep wherever you want, Jaymee, as long as it’s with me.”

  There must be something wrong with her. She wanted him again. It was as if some dam had broken, and now there was no holding back the torrent of emotions held in check for so long. How could a musty-smelling, cluttered old house suddenly become so charged with sexual energy? She could feel his male heat, pushing hard and insistent, through his jeans.

  “You said we’re supposed to talk,” she reminded him huskily.

  “Later.” His hand went under her shirt. “Listen, it’s raining again.”

  “So?”

  “So, we aren’t going to work anywhere for the rest of the day, are we?”

  “I told you, the day’s shot.”

  “Hmm. All that unused energy surely needs an outlet. And that’s the doctor’s personal opinion.”

  Her whole insides shook. How was it possible he could make her weak from mere words? Determinedly, she mounted one last defensive battle. She was in control of the situation still, wasn’t she? They were going to talk, no matter what, she vowed.

  Using the age-old female excuse, she said, “I’m too tired.”

  An empty house. A bed. A desirable woman. And a whole night ahead. Nick Langley couldn’t have executed a better program. He wanted this woman more than ever, now that he knew her story. She had the softness that drove him crazy, and the toughness that challenged him to keep taking her over and over, just to make her grow soft for him.

  He wanted her. Now.

  Slowly, deliberately, he showed her those lacey panties again, and watched her eyes widen as he moved them closer to his lips. With devilish purpose he kissed the crotch of the little triangle, feeling her immediate reaction as the corresponding part of her body pushed against him in shock. He almost groaned from the pleasure. His murmur was low, promising. “I know a way to wake you up.”

  Jaymee could only squeak. Did she vow they would talk first? Later, she amended.

  ***

  Much, much later, and after expending energy in the most satisfying way, Jaymee lay on her side, resting her head on one hand as she studied the sleeping man beside her. Her lover, she told herself. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. She was supposed to be using her head. She was a sensible and wary woman, keeping out of trouble for her very valued peace of mind. Where was that common sense now? All but gone, stolen by this man with his clever hands and determined seduction. She grimaced. How, she asked as she looked at his gloriously nude form, was she supposed to resist that?

  Nick lay asleep on his back, one arm flung over his eyes to block out the dim light from the old lamp by the sofa bed. His other hand was on her thigh, fingers possessively splayed over the soft inner flesh. His naked body, as she knew now, was warrior-hard, with the supple muscles that suggested training. She made a mental addition of this new clue to his mystery, wondering whether she would ever know, or whether he would just disappear from her life without her ever finding out.

  Just like some tall, dark stranger in a Western novel. Don’t forget handsome, she added with silent wryness, taking in those long, incredible eyelashes that cast shadows on the masculine plains of his face. He looked relaxed, and thoroughly sated. She flushed at the thought.

  She wanted to trace her finger around those sensuous lips that hadn’t left a spot on her body untouched. Moving lower, she admired the broad chest with its diamond-shaped sprinkling of hair that arrowed down a flat stomach. She lingered even lower. Talk about insatiable. That part of him was asleep too.

  A small, intimate smile touched her lips. She couldn’t believe the things she’d done with this male body. Perhaps she’d imagined it. However, one glance around the room and the wreck they’d made of it, testified to the hours of pleasure in which they had indulged recently. There were items of clothing strewn everywhere. She squinted. Was that her bra in the corner? His jeans were tossed in a bunch right across the room. There were sofa pillows all over the place. She vaguely remembered him placing one of them under her hips and her face flushed pink as she recalled the incredible pleasure that particular position had brought, as he pushed deep into her again and again.

  It still scared her, the way he could make her forget about everything else but him. He was a demanding lover, making sure every part of her responded to his touch as he described in sexy detail what he was going to do. How he could talk when she was a mass of moaning sensations, she would never understand, and that was what was so unsettling and fr
ightening about him. He seemed so in control all the time, and a part of her resented it, wanting him to be as wild as he drove her.

  His muscles rippled gently as he stirred. The hand on her thigh caressed her, his long fingers teasing slightly before letting go to slide lazily up his tanned stomach to scratch his chest with sleepy satisfaction.

  Jaymee reluctantly sat up, sweeping the tangled curtain of hair from her face. Her body felt sore in unfamiliar places. Fingers curled around her wrist.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Nick’s voice was a husky drawl.

  She glanced back at him. His eyes were still shut. “Bathroom,” she told him. “I wonder what time it is.”

  He grunted and turned over onto his front, giving her a tempting view of his tush. “It’s about Oh-four-hundred hours. Come back to bed soon.”

  This was weird. She was used to falling asleep here some nights, but never had imagined she would be traipsing around the place naked, with an obviously equally-naked man asleep in one of the rooms. And who could tell time like that? She checked the little clock in the kitchen area. Four fifteen. Oh-four-hundred hours. Who the hell talked like that during the wee hours of the morning?

  He was still in exactly the same position when she returned, and she wanted to run her hand up and down those muscular flanks and ravish those sexy buns. She fought against her naughty urges and looked around for her clothes instead.

  “Aren’t you hungry?” she asked, finding a shoe under the sofa bed.

  “Nope.”

  “I have some crackers and cheese somewhere.”

  “Ugh.” He held out a hand. “Come here.”

  When she placed her hand in his, he pulled her back into bed, turning on his side to make room for her. “Nick!” she protested. “I have to get up.”

  “For what? It’s four in the morning.”

  “Four thirty,” she corrected. “I thought I would get up and get some stuff done. I didn’t do a thing today. Yesterday, I mean.”

  “So what are you going to do at this Godforsaken hour, little workaholic?” he asked, amusement lacing his sleepy voice. “Mow the grass? Lay a couple of squares of shingles in the dark? Maybe wash your truck?”

  Jaymee chuckled at his ludicrous suggestions and ran a teasing hand up his chest. “Sarcastic beast,” she pleasantly chided, pulling his chest hair hard enough to get him to grunt. “Some of us have paperwork to do. Besides, I wake up around six, anyway. This will give me a head start.”

  Nick groaned, finally opening his eyes. As usual, she managed to amuse and exasperate at the same time. “Only a workaholic will see being awake at four in the morning as a head start.” He bent his head close to hers. “There are other, more interesting, things to do at this time of the morning.”

  He kissed her with a slow thoroughness, tasting the mouthwash she’d used in the bathroom. He pressed against her.

  “Nicholas...” she began, when his hand slid between her legs, but her voice trailed away.

  “I don’t know about you, Jaymee girl,” he whispered, as he explored her silky secrets, “but I can’t seem to get enough of you. Each time gets better and better.”

  She appeared to agree. Blindly, she reached for him.

  “What about the paperwork?” he teased, as she undulated wildly against him.

  “Stuff the paperwork!” she fiercely announced, and bit his chest.

  ***

  They walked back to her house early enough for a quick bath, a change of clothing and breakfast. While Jaymee made coffee and scrambled some eggs, Nick disappeared into the study. A moment later, she heard the unmistakable beeping noises of the computer and printer.

  “Is the new computer set up for my business files?” she asked loudly, over the sizzle of bacon.

  “Yeah. I’ll show you later.”

  “What are you doing now?”

  “Checking on something.”

  Jaymee shrugged, going back to preparing the meal. Having a computer as a rival was better than another woman, she supposed. Besides, she was too hungry to care.

  In the study, Nick frowned at the screen. No communications. It had only been a few days since he gave out his location, but he’d hoped for an affirmation of some sort. Something just didn’t feel right. He would have to make a decision soon, if…

  “Breakfast!”

  He turned off the machine and went back into the kitchen. His mouth watered at the smell of bacon and eggs. Jaymee poured him a cup of coffee, then sat down next to him. Her almond-shaped eyes were bright with laughter as she looked at him.

  “You owe me a load of laundry, at the rate you use up all my favorite tee-shirts,” she said, giving him that delightful chuckle he loved to hear.

  Nick looked down, then grinned. He had just pulled the first shirt out of her dresser and put it on in the dark. It was another one of her crazy tee-shirts. This one said: ‘She Must Be Obeyed.’

  “I’m a browbeaten man,” he told her, showing the proper humble demeanor, then spoiled it by promptly taking a big, noisy bite of toast.

  They bantered back and forth, until Bob came downstairs. Nick was surprised again. The old geezer was sober and actually looked alert.

  He looked at the two of them at the table, then groused, “I hope he didn’t spend the night here. It’s still my house.”

  “No, he didn’t,” assured Jaymee briskly, and got up to get an extra cup. “Coffee, Dad?”

  Bob grunted and sat down next to Nick. Slowly chewing on his breakfast, Nick nodded at him. “Good morning, Mr. Barrows.”

  “Either you’re darned early for work, or you stayed here overnight,” Bob accused, eyeing them with suspicion, as Jaymee quietly set a plate in front of him, along with his coffee. “Which is it?”

  “Neither,” Jaymee replied, while Nick finished chewing his food.

  “Don’t tell me he ain’t been with you all night, with that shirt of yours on him,” her father went on, nodding towards Nick.

  “She didn’t tell you that now, did she?” drawled Nick, buttering another piece of toast.

  “I don’t get it. She ain’t got nothing left for the likes of you to want. Let me make it clear, boy. I ain’t going to mortgage the house to back another money-making scheme, you hear?”

  The morning’s cheerfulness escaped the big kitchen like a slow leaky balloon, leaving an uneasy, tense silence. Jaymee didn’t say a word, just returned to her seat, and began eating her bacon and eggs like nothing was wrong.

  “More coffee?” she asked Nick, holding up the pot.

  Nick pushed the cup closer to her, and without taking his eyes off Jaymee, said in a pleasant voice, “There’s plenty of her to want, Mr. Barrows. You’re just too blind to see it.” He smiled when Jaymee’s startled eyes darted up to meet his.

  “Listen to him, Jaymee girl,” Bob sneered. “He’s as smooth a talker as that other one. Only this one doesn’t know you’re up to your eyeballs in debt, and there ain’t nothing left for him to steal.”

  “Dad, maybe he likes me,” Jaymee lightly suggested, returning Nick’s smile. She took a nibble of the bacon, still looking at his handsome face.

  Bob gave a short laugh. “Haven’t you learned? They don’t like you for yourself, they see the business, the money they can get from you! Even I learned that. And at your age, you ain’t going to catch a young stud’s eye that easily, Jaymee girl. Why, your ma…”

  Nick cut in. This time, the tone of his voice was no longer pleasant. “I suggest you shut up, old man. Either that, or get back into your booze, so I’d at least have an excuse not to punch the daylights out of you.”

  “Nick...” warned Jaymee, hesitantly, shaking her head. This wasn’t going to do any good. She used to argue with her father when he started to act like this. Now she just walked away. After all, what was there to say to a man who suddenly lost his business, wife and health all in a year? “Just eat and let’s go. I’m used to it.”

  “No.” He was inflexible. His blue-gray eyes,
no longer lazy and amused, glittered as he looked at Bob Barrows. It was time to put an end to this. He studied the old man’s quickened breathing, the light sheen of sweat on his forehead. No better time than when he was still clear-headed.

  Jaymee couldn’t see Nick’s expression, but he must have conveyed a strong message to her father, who surprised her by dropping his gaze. Her father, who never backed down, actually looked nervous. She shivered slightly when Nick spoke up again. His voice sounded so cold and lethal, so unlike that warm gravelly drawl she was used to.

  “There’s a certain type of man who takes advantage of young girls, isn’t there,” he said to Bob, “the kind that steals their innocence and betrays their trust? You know it, don’t you, old man, being a father and all? You saw how your daughter was tricked. And there’s another type of man, who shirks responsibilities, preferring to blame everyone else but himself. You know that too, don’t you, Barrows?” Being polite, Nick thought, was a waste of time with this man.

  Bob slammed his hand on the table, spilling coffee. Jaymee stood up to get a cloth, but was stopped by Nick’s hand. She silently pleaded for him to stop, but he was still staring at her father.

  “Don’t let him talk to me like that, Jaymee!”

  Jaymee licked her dry lips. In spite of how her father hurt her feelings, she still was concerned for his health. Besides, she would rather not have a family confrontation in front of others. “Nick...”

  “No.” Again, he refused her plea, his eyes burning her with their intensity. “I told you yesterday not to let him put you down again. If you won’t do it, I guess I’ll just have to be the one to make the point clear.”

  “I can take care of myself,” Jaymee told him, although the look in his eyes was intimidating. She wasn’t used to anyone taking her side. From experience, when others heard about what happened, they commiserated with her father, not her, and of course, excused his drunkenness and behavior. She tugged at Nick’s hand holding hers.

  He merely ignored her, turning his attention back to Bob. “Let’s talk about type of daughters now, shall we? There’s the type who can’t wait to leave home to start her own life, isn’t there, Barrows, the one that has a family of her own? And, there’s the type of daughter who doesn’t strand her father with a mountain of debts, choosing instead, to help him back on his feet. Great daughter, don’t you agree, old man?”