“I’m fine.”
“Really?”
The cab’s suspension system squeaked as it hit a pothole. Annie’s hair had all but fallen down around her shoulders, and he pushed a lock off her face. “Ask me that same question in a minute,” he murmured. “Something tells me I’m going to be even better than fine.”
He kissed her gently, just a slight brushing of his lips against hers. She smiled, then lifted her mouth to his for more. He kissed her again, a long, slow, sweet kiss that made his heart pound and sent his blood racing through his veins.
“Madison Square Garden,” the cabbie announced. “Uh, you folks want me to go around the block a few more times?”
Annie grinned. “What does he think we’re doing back here?” she whispered into Pete’s ear.
“Probably exactly what we are doing,” he whispered back, kissing her neck. “Yeah, keep going,” he said in a louder voice to the driver. He lifted himself up slightly, so he could peek out the back window.
After the cab made three right turns with no cars following them, Pete had the driver pull over, and he and Annie climbed out.
The cab had no sooner pulled away from the curb when Pete flagged down another taxi. They quickly climbed in.
“La Guardia Airport,” Pete directed the driver.
An hour and a half later, they ended up in an expensive hotel overlooking Central Park. The room was large and elegant, decorated in hushed shades of rose and burgundy, with a beautiful floral-printed wallpaper that reminded Annie of an English garden. A table and chairs sat in the corner by the window, a couch and several overstuffed chairs were positioned around a cold fireplace and a big bed was against the wall. One bed. Annie pulled her eyes away from it and looked at Pete.
“You know, when you told that cabdriver to take us to the airport,” she said, “for a while there, I thought you wanted to catch the next flight out of town.”
Pete slipped the chain on the door and fastened a deadbolt. “Would you have gone?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said without hesitating even a second. “If that’s what you wanted.”
She trusted him. It was clear from her eyes and her voice. Perfect, Pete thought grimly. She trusted him absolutely, yet he’d told her nothing but lies and half-truths. She would have every right to be furious with him when she found out the real story, every right never to trust him again.
Annie watched as he pulled the desk chair over and wedged it tightly underneath the doorknob. He seemed more silent and expressionless than ever, as if he were hiding something. Were they really safe here? Maybe they should have taken a flight out of New York, away from the city….
“Does that work?” she asked, gesturing to the chair.
“It’s not going to stop anybody who’s determined to get in here,” Pete said. “But it makes me feel better.”
“Are we safe?” she asked.
His eyes met hers, and electricity seemed to crackle between them.
Safe.
If they were safe, Pete could relax. He could close his eyes and kiss her. And if he could close his eyes and kiss her…
“Yeah,” he said. “For now.”
His gaze was so intense, Annie had to look away. Her overnight bag was on the floor, and she looked at it, seeing for the first time the tire mark that marred its leather surface. Her eyes were very wide and very blue as she looked back up at Pete. “I nearly got you killed. Didn’t I?”
Pete shook his head. “You didn’t try to run me over,” he said, painfully shrugging out of what was left of his tuxedo jacket, depositing onto the table a small gun that he’d somehow concealed up his sleeve. “Don’t go doing the guilt thing on me, Annie. I knew exactly what I was getting myself into when I took this job.”
He pulled another gun out from where it had been tucked into the back of his pants.
“Did you really?”
He turned to glance at her, and froze. Annie had taken off her evening jacket, too, and she stood in front of him, her sexy blue dress wrinkled, her stockings torn, her makeup smudged, her hair disheveled and down around her smooth shoulders. She was gorgeous, perfectly, mind-numbingly gorgeous. Desire slammed into him, running him down and crushing him so that he could barely breathe.
“No,” he managed to say, his voice sounding raw. “I didn’t have a clue.”
He couldn’t hide how badly he wanted her—he knew it was written clearly across his face. He turned away abruptly, unfastening his shoulder holster and putting that gun with the others. He knew he should wash the scrape on Annie’s knee, and maybe take a look at his shoulder in the bathroom mirror….
Annie walked slowly toward him, hoping for another glimpse of that exhilarating fire she’d seen burning in his eyes. “Do me a favor, Taylor,” she said, her voice even lower and huskier than usual. “Unzip me?”
She turned, sweeping her hair in front of one shoulder, exposing her slender neck and smooth back, waiting. For several long seconds, she was afraid he wasn’t going to do it. Then his big, gentle fingers found the tiny zipper pull and tugged it slowly down. Annie heard Pete take a deep breath.
“You should take a shower,” he said on the exhale.
Pete briefly closed his eyes, willing her to walk away from him. But she didn’t. When he looked again, she was still standing in front of him. And he couldn’t resist.
Annie sighed with pleasure as she felt Pete touch her shoulders, his callused fingers stroking her soft skin.
“Annie,” he breathed close to her ear. “I should take a shower—a cold one.”
“I have a better idea,” she said, turning to face him. The heat in her eyes left him no doubt as to what she had in mind.
He knew that he should stop touching her, he should stop tracing the line of her delicate collarbone, he should keep his fingers out of her silky hair….
She took a step toward him, closing the shrinking gap between them, and suddenly his arms were around her and he was kissing her.
This was not like the sweet kisses they’d shared in the back seat of the taxi. This was an explosion, a scorching, turbulent eruption of emotion and desire held far too long in check. He molded her body against his as their mouths met hungrily, frantically. He welcomed her tongue into his mouth, pulling her inside him, as if he wanted to devour her whole. She moaned, a soft, sensual sound that nearly brought him to his knees, and he swept his tongue past her lips, piercing her, possessing her, claiming her as his own.
Annie heard herself moan again, as Pete’s hands moved down to her buttocks, pressing her tightly to the ironlike hardness of his arousal. Feeling herself flood with even more heat, Annie wrapped one leg up around him, fitting herself against him. She could feel his hand slide up the silky nylon that covered her thigh, slipping underneath her dress.
Suddenly, violently, Pete pulled away from her. He crossed to the other side of the room, as if to put as much distance between them as possible. Not again, Annie thought with frustration, watching him lean against the far wall, pressing his palms to his forehead. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her ragged breathing. At least he didn’t run away, she told herself. This was definitely a step in the right direction….
“Annie, I’m dying to make love to you,” he said. “But we have to talk first. You need to understand that there are things I can’t tell you—”
Annie slipped out of her dress, kicking her shoes into the corner of the room. She wore a black bustier that ended in a point just above the black silk of her panties. Pete watched, almost hypnotized, as she peeled off her tattered stockings and tossed them into the wastebasket.
She walked toward him then, saying, “We were attacked by a flock of bats and nearly run over by some maniac, all in the space of a few hours. Maybe this is just a day’s work for you, pal, but I’ve had it. I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to deal with any problems. And I don’t want to have to wonder if I’m going to get killed before I get a chance to make love to you.”
“Annie
—”
She pressed her fingers to his lips. “Tell me tomorrow,” she said, her blue eyes beseeching him. “Please?”
The last time Pete had seen her dressed in only her underwear, she’d stood this close to him, but she’d been on the other side of a thick pane of glass. This time, with no barrier between them, he couldn’t help himself, and he reached out for her.
She went into his arms willingly, thankfully, kissing him as his hands swept over her body, stroking, touching, exploring. Her fingers fumbled as she unbuttoned his shirt, but finally it was open, and she ran the palms of her hands up and down the hard, smooth muscles of his chest. “Make love to me, Pete,” she whispered.
In one sudden movement, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the big bed. Still holding her with one arm, he grabbed the covers and wrenched them back. He sank down onto the clean white sheets, pressing himself on top of her, kissing her eyes, her mouth, her neck, sliding lower and lower until his mouth found her breast. Her nipples were already hard with desire, and he took one into his mouth, sucking and pulling through the delicate lace of her bra. His hands found a hook and eye at her back and he undid it, but it was just one of a whole long row of fasteners. Growling with frustration, he rolled her onto her stomach. With his fingers and eyes working together, the bra was easy to remove, and he quickly tossed it onto the floor.
He sat back to pull his shirt off, uncaring of the pain in his scraped shoulder and elbow, knowing only that he had to feel his body against hers with no barriers in between. He watched Annie sit up, her breasts round and full, her nipples invitingly taut.
He knew that it was a mistake to make love to her like this, before she knew the truth about him. But he also knew that mistake or not, it was too late to turn back—his need for her possessed him. The only way he’d be able to turn away from her now was if she begged him to stop. Pete groaned as her slender fingers unfastened the button at the waist of his pants. No, she definitely didn’t want to stop.
He took her hand, pulling it down and pressing it against the hard bulge in his pants. Their gazes locked, and they both smiled, quick, fiery grins of recognition at the need for haste that they saw in each other’s eyes. Pete pushed off his shoes as Annie tugged at his pants. He lifted his hips and yanked both his pants and his shorts down, then groaned with pleasure as her hand closed around his shaft. He rolled on top of her, pinning her with his body as he kissed her almost feverishly.
His hand slipped underneath the thin black silk of her panties, finding the heat between her legs, finding her moist and ready for him. He slid his fingers into her tightness, and she moaned, lifting her hips and pressing against him.
“Pete,” she whispered huskily, looking up at him with passion in her eyes. “Please…”
Her soft words ignited him, and the black panties joined her bra on the floor. He scrambled for his pants, searching the pockets for the condom he’d put in his wallet weeks ago, back when Annie was only a suspect to be investigated. He’d put that condom there in anticipation of good sex—nothing more than physical pleasure with a beautiful adversary. But it was more than sexual desire that made his hands shake as he put it on now. It was knowing that he wanted Annie in ways that he’d never wanted anyone before. It was love, pure and simple, and oh, so complicated. Too complicated for words….
Pete turned back to Annie and kissed her as if the world were coming to an end. His body covered hers, and she put her arms around his sleek, strong back, pulling him even closer to her, opening herself to receive him. But he paused, his muscles tight in his arms and chest as he looked down at her.
“I love you,” he breathed. “Annie, I love you so much—”
Beads of sweat stood out on his forehead and he was breathing hard, as if holding back was a test of endurance. But while his eyes blazed with the intensity of his desire, they also held another flame, the softer, smoldering fire of love that promised to burn forever.
Annie felt her eyes fill with tears. He loved her….
“Promise me you’ll never forget that,” he said, his voice husky with emotion.
“How could I ever forget?” she asked, pulling his head down, meeting his mouth with her lips. She kissed him, drinking in his sweetness, pulling him toward her, wanting more, more. She lifted her hips up, pressing against his hardness, wanting him, needing him, now and for all time.
He entered her with one smooth thrust and they both cried out, their voices intertwined in the hushed stillness of the room.
Harmony. There was perfect harmony in the way their bodies moved together, harmony in the emotions that seemed to charge the very air around them, harmony in the love Pete felt for her, a love he knew she felt, too, just from looking into her beautiful eyes. It was like the sonorous consonance of nature, the perfectness of marriage between a Colorado mountain peak and the blue sky above it. Two bodies, two hearts, two souls joined in the ultimate collaboration. They were one, part of each other forever.
Annie exploded, swirling in a barrage of colors and sounds and sensations that focused on the man in her arms, this man she held so tightly, this man who had stolen her heart. Through the waves of her pleasure, she heard him call out her name, felt the shudder of his own tremendous release.
She held on to him tightly, feeling the pounding of both their hearts begin to slow. Spent, he lay on top of her, and still she clasped him to her, holding his body against hers, wanting to freeze time, keep them in this special place forever.
Pete’s breathing became slow and steady, deep and relaxed.
“Taylor, are you awake?” Annie whispered.
He lifted his head to find himself staring directly into Annie’s blue eyes. “Yeah,” he said, then smiled, a slow, satisfied smile that made Annie’s heart turn a quick somersault.
“I love you, too, you know,” she said, and Pete closed his eyes briefly, feeling the warmth of her words surround his heart. She loved him.
“Pete, why did you leave my room that night?” she asked softly. “You know, I wanted you to stay.”
“I couldn’t,” he said, tracing her eyebrows with one finger. “I wanted to, but I couldn’t.”
“Why not?”
He shook his head, uncertain of the best way to explain. “I wanted—I still want—more than just a sexual relationship,” he finally said. “I want more than just a night or two or even two months of nights. I want forever, Annie. I want you to marry me—”
“Yes,” she said, interrupting him.
Pete laughed. “But I wasn’t—That wasn’t—” He took a deep breath and started over. “There are things you need to know about me before I can even ask you to marry me.”
He was looking at her with such love in his eyes, such emotion on his face. Annie shook her head. “I love you, Pete,” she said simply. “And there’s nothing you can tell me that will make me stop loving you.”
He rolled onto his back, pulling her with him and holding her close. “I hope so,” he said. “I hope so.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
MORNING DAWNED COLD AND GRAY, but Annie was warm and secure, wrapped in Pete’s arms in the hotel bed. She slept soundly, her long hair fanned out against the pillow, her legs comfortably intertwined with Pete’s.
Pete watched her as she slept. He’d watched her sleep before, but this was the first time he’d watched her as he held her in his arms.
She loved him.
She’d told him that over and over last night, with more than just words.
Pete studied the freckles on her nose and the way her eyelashes lay against her cheek, hoping against hope that she loved him enough to handle the truth, to understand why he’d intentionally misled her.
What he couldn’t figure out was how the hell he was going to find the right time, the right moment to tell her who he really was. He had to wait until the investigation was over, of course. But that wouldn’t be long—not after Whitley Scott received Pete’s report, which stated that, in his opinion, Annie Morrow was
not involved in any kind of conspiracy.
How long would it take to get the report filed and the investigation dropped? A week, maybe two. By then they’d have this death mask mess cleared up, too. They’d track down whoever it was who had tried to kill them—
He’d come so close to losing her last night. Pete stared at the ceiling, holding Annie tighter. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her.
But when he imagined himself telling Annie he was CIA, it was so easy to picture her anger, to picture her storming out the door.
But she loves you, he reminded himself. Or did she? She loved Peter Taylor. Maybe she wouldn’t feel the same about Kendall Peterson.
He closed his eyes, willing himself to stop thinking, letting sleep wash over him.
“ANNIE.” PETE’S LAZY DRAWL whispered in her ear. “Wake up.”
She awoke to the sensation of his roughly callused hands sweeping across her body. His thumb gently flicked her nipples to life, as his other hand moved lower, starting that now familiar surge of fire through her body. He pulled her hips toward him, entering her slowly.
She opened her eyes to find him watching her, his eyelids half-closed, a small smile on his handsome face. He moved languorously, unhurriedly, deliciously.
“Morning,” he said.
“Well, this sure beats an alarm clock,” Annie said with a smile. She stretched, lifting her hips and joining his rhythmic movements. “I could get used to this.”
“You and me both,” Pete said, rolling onto his back, pulling her on top of him. She leaned forward to kiss him, and the telephone rang.
Annie froze. “Nobody knows we’re here,” she said. “Do they?”
She moved to get off him, but he held her in place, reaching with his right hand to answer the phone. “Yeah,” he said into the receiver, tucking it between his ear and shoulder. He looked up into Annie’s eyes and pushed himself more deeply inside of her. She swallowed a sound of pleasure that almost escaped, and glared at Pete in mock outrage. He grinned at her. Oh, yeah? thought Annie. Well, two can play this game.
Hero Under Cover Page 17
