by Leslie Jones
Gabe shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable. “Well. See ya.”
She laughed. “Man, you suck at goodbyes. Deni is going to take one of the Nabourgs’ cars back to the palace. That’s what she’d do anyway, if Ronnie had been here. I’ve made my farewells to our hosts. So, I’m ready.” She started across the room toward the door.
Which put her within grabbing distance.
Instead, he stepped in front of her. “Christina,” he whispered.
Her breath caught. She looked at him, eyes shimmering. “Yes?”
“Come away with me,” he said in a rush. He’d meant to lead up to it gently, reverently, telling her how much he wanted her, desired her, respected her. Wanted to crawl between the sheets with her, yes, of course. But he also wanted to listen as she whispered her secrets in the dark of night. Comfort her. Find out what thrilled her, and do it beside her. Take her skydiving and snorkeling. Walk on a beach holding hands. It terrified him. He pushed the words out anyway. “Let’s go somewhere. Just the two of us.”
“What?” She didn’t sound outraged, which was a good sign. She hadn’t laughed, either.
“You and me.” He took a step closer. “It made me nuts, seeing you with Brumley. All I could think about was getting you away from him. And then when we were attacked, when I saw that bastard put a gun to your head . . .” He stopped, finding his throat clogged with emotion.
“Gabe . . .”
“You know there’s something between us.” He pushed the words out past the constriction. “You know it as well as I do. Let’s, I don’t know, explore it.”
A slow smile lit her eyes. He stopped breathing, she was so beautiful. “Have sex, you mean.”
He found abruptly that’s not what he meant. He’d made a big mistake last time when he’d tried to seduce her. “Sex, yes, if that’s what you want. But really I want us to get to know one another. Come away with me for a few days. A week. Two.”
She sidled closer. Her breasts almost, but not quite, touched his chest. He forced himself to keep still. “Where would we go?” Her voice had dropped several octaves. Sweet, heavy, seductive. He forgot what he’d been about to say, simply stared at her helplessly.
“Gabe?” He heard the anxious note in her voice, and forced himself to think. What had they been talking about?
“I don’t know. London? Paris? I can take a couple of weeks off. I’ll clear it with Jace. Wherever you want to go. Hawaii?”
She leaned forward, her lips a hair’s breadth from his. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Relief swept through him.
“Yes.” That tiny pink tongue swept out, licking once across his lips before disappearing back into her mouth. He groaned. Before he could sweep her into his arms, though, Deni appeared in the bedroom doorway, followed by the maids. She spoke to them rapidly in Dutch. They trooped out.
Deni hovered by the door. “If you wish to leave, now is a good time. The footmen are coming to take the luggage to the car.”
Christina broke from Gabe and trotted over to Deni. She threw her arms around the other woman, hugging hard. After a startled moment, Deni hugged back.
“I couldn’t have done this without you,” Christina whispered. “Thank you so much for everything you did, both for Ronnie and for me.”
The older woman smiled gently. “My pleasure. You are very much like my princess. You are both warmhearted, gracious young women. It’s been my honor to work with you.”
Christina sniffled as they left the suite. Gabe put a hand at the small of her back. She edged closer to him and he grinned, warmth suffusing him.
The ride back to Parvenière and the safe house couldn’t have been more different from the trip out. The team joked and joshed. Gabe pressed his shoulder to hers several times, gratified when she returned the small pressure. Oh, yeah. This was going to work.
Suddenly unable to keep from touching her, he slid his fingers into her warm palm. She closed her fingers around his, not looking at him. He was so attuned to her that it took every bit of self-restraint not to haul her onto his lap. That would embarrass her, though, and he wasn’t going to screw this up.
She moistened her lips. He watched them, mesmerized. Her mouth curved up very slightly at the corners. He swallowed a groan.
“The temperature’s rising fast,” Mace said in disgust. “You two need to get a room before you combust.”
They looked at one another guiltily, then burst out laughing. It broke the tension long enough to finish the drive.
They pulled up into a nondescript driveway in front of a nondescript townhouse, on a block where every house looked the same. This one was some sort of pale yellow. The ones to either side were blue and green. The group trooped up to the front door. It opened before they arrived and Ronnie hurtled out, almost toppling Christina as she threw her arms around her.
“My friend,” the princess murmured. “You ’ave been so brave. Julian told me what happened. I worried so about you.”
One look at her face, and it was obvious she was sincere. Christina laughed and returned the hug. “I’m just glad it’s over.”
Gabe looked from one to the other. He couldn’t imagine now ever having trouble telling them apart. Yes, the physical resemblance was eerie, but he could never mistake Christina’s lust for life for Ronnie’s natural elegance.
Julian appeared at the door, and Ronnie gave him a radiant smile. “Let’s go inside, shall we?” he said.
The townhome was small, and became cramped with the addition of Gabe’s team. Gabe knew several of the SAS operators. There was a lot of backslapping and handshaking, as some of his men had worked with some of Trevor’s at one time or another. The SAS men had packed up, and backpacks, duffels, and sleeping rolls cluttered the foyer.
“Glad that’s done with,” Conall Havanaugh said. “Can’t take any more of Archie’s snoring.”
“Your ass, nancy-boy,” Archie Bell replied promptly. “Your pardon, ladies.”
Christina smothered a laugh. “Where can I change?”
“My room,” Ronnie said at once. “These poor boys have been on their best behavior. They need time to decompress.”
The room dimmed somehow when the two women went upstairs. Even as he caught up with Trevor’s team, he kept one eye on the doorway. When she finally reappeared, she wore fitted jeans and cross-trainers. Her hair curled around her face like a living force.
“I don’t envy you,” she told Ronnie, who followed her in. “It’s frigging hard work.”
“I am accustomed to it. And my position lets me help out in small ways.”
“Well, I think you’re safe to go to the summit and kick ass.” Christina smiled.
“Excellent.”
“I really need to check in. Excuse me.” She withdrew to a corner and took out her cell phone. Gabe drifted closer.
“Madison,” Jay Spicer said, by way of greeting. Gabe heard the sound of his chair springs squeaking. “When the hell you getting your butt back here?”
“I need some time off.”
“What, you think being in a shootout and almost being killed gets you a vay-cay?”
She smothered a smile. “Yes, actually. So can I have a couple weeks?”
The chair springs stopped. “Yeah. You bet. Come back when you’re ready.”
Julian went up the stairs, returning a few seconds later with a suitcase and Ronnie in tow. “We’re headed out,” he said.
Gabe and Christina joined the others downstairs. She gave Tag, Alex, Mace, and Gavin each a quick hug.
“This was fun. Let’s do it again sometime.”
Mace chuckled. “I’ll work with you anytime, chérie.”
Gavin peeked out the front window. “Car’s here. Time to bounce.”
The new, bullet-free state limousine would carry Ronnie, Julian, and the rest of the D
elta Force team back to the Palais du Parvenière. His team as escort would complete the transition between the fake princess and the real one. Gabe stayed behind.
A quick call to Jace Reed, his commander, and he was free for two whole weeks, barring a live mission that would call him back.
Trevor and his team departed next. He hugged and kissed Christina on the cheek while Gabe glowered, reminded uncomfortably that the two had history.
He would make her forget all about Trevor Carswell. A week and she’d be begging to stay with him. Two weeks, and they’d be married.
He pulled up short. Where the hell had that thought come from? Delta Force operators did not settle down. Well, Jace had, but Heather was an extraordinary woman who worked tirelessly beside the team every single day. The incidence of divorce among the SpecOps community as a whole was absurdly high. The pressures of no-notice deployments and dangerous missions took their toll on families.
Besides, he just wanted a few weeks with her. He didn’t want to marry her.
He scratched his chin, watching her say her goodbyes. Who the hell was he kidding? He wanted more than a few weeks. Much more.
But marriage?
By unspoken agreement, they remained at the safe house. Where they went from here would be up to Christina.
When everyone else had gone and the door had closed, they stood in the foyer, staring at one another.
“Are you hungry?” Christina finally asked. “The fridge might still be stocked.”
Hell, yeah, he was hungry. Starving. But not for food. “Sure. Let’s see what they’ve got.”
Thanks to the voracious appetites of the SAS team, the refrigerator and cupboards had been picked bare. All they could find were cheese slices, green olives, and a bowl of strawberries dipped in whipped cream. Both eyed the whipped cream with speculation, met the others’ eyes, and burst out laughing.
“Good to know we’re on the same page,” Gabe said.
“Taste one,” she urged, selecting a strawberry and holding it to his lips. He bit into it, feeling the juice run down his chin. She scooped it onto a finger and licked it clean. Slowly, sensuously, the little witch. He felt himself grow hard.
He took the berry from her and brought the bowl over to the kitchen table, adjusting himself discreetly as he went. Hmm. The table looked to be the right height. He scooped more whipped cream onto the strawberry, a grin tugging at his mouth as he glanced over his shoulder, daring her to follow him.
“Have a bite,” he said. She put some extra sway in her hips. His smile widened in appreciation.
She placed one hand on his shoulder as though for balance, reaching for the fruit with her mouth. “Looks yummy.”
He moved it closer. Looking into his eyes, she flicked her tongue out and licked it. His groin twitched. She did it again, then swirled her tongue over the red skin. He imagined that same tongue, running over his body and down to his . . .
He jerked his fingers away, dropping the berry. “Christ, Christina. I’m so crazy hot for you.”
The tease leaned toward him until her lips were a breath from his. “Good.”
His hands rose of their own volition and cupped either side of her face. “Yes,” he said huskily. “It is good.” Closing the microscopic distance between them, he traced his tongue along the seam of her mouth, nipping at her lips until she parted for him. He slipped into her dark heat.
Dropping into a kitchen chair, he yanked her into his lap and kissed her, hot, openmouthed kisses full of a desperate hunger. “I’ve wanted you since the first second I met you,” he admitted in a low voice. “Back in Azakistan. You strutted into our Tactical Operations Center like you owned the place, and I wanted to kiss you senseless right then and there.”
“You didn’t show it,” she said. “You were hard on me.” She ran her hands over his shoulders, which felt unbelievably good.
“I was hard for you.” He slid his hands under the blouse she wore, caressing the soft skin of her abdomen. She leaned away from him, but only to swing her leg over so she was straddling his lap. His brain short-circuited. He clamped his hands onto her hips and ground up into her soft heat. She rotated her hips. The sensation almost blew the top of his head off.
“You keep doing that, and we’ll be done before we start,” he growled.
“I like it fast and hard,” she said. Every muscle in his body seized at once.
“Good to know,” he panted, surprised to find his vocal cords still worked.
He captured her mouth again, thrusting his tongue in to duel with hers. His skin felt hot, feverish. Only the cool slide of her touch could save him. Kissing his way down her neck, he paused to lick the artery pulsing frantically in her neck. He ran his hands up her arms and back down, loving the silky slip of her skin, determined to make this first time last. She had other ideas, though. She almost tore his T-shirt yanking it over his head, then stripped off her own top. This passionate woman knew what she wanted, and that knowledge made him hotter than he’d ever been in his life.
He stopped her from shrugging out of her bra. The wispy, lacy thing was a soft blue. He stroked his fingers across the fabric, feeling it catch very slightly on the callouses of his fingers. She made a noise and tried to push her breasts farther into his hands, but he pulled back. When she stilled, he resumed his exploration. At last, he gave in to her moaned demands and brushed the pads of his thumbs over her nipples, already peaked and flushed with arousal. She gasped and arched closer, so he did it again. Unable to stop himself, he bent his head to suckle one breast, his teeth worrying the bud. She cried out, a sharp sound that drew stark male satisfaction from him. He tasted her other nipple, drawing it deep into his mouth and sucked hard on it. She bucked against him.
“Like that. Oh, yeah. Again.” She dug her hands into his hair, trying to force his mouth back to her breasts. He pulled away, blowing across her nipples, sensitizing them. She urged him closer, but he stayed where he was until, with a frustrated groan, she released his hair and gave him control.
Reaching around with both hands, he trapped her against his chest as he slid the little hooks free. The bra parted in tiny increments, baring her to his searing gaze a little at a time. She whimpered. Good.
When he finally dropped the delicate material from her breasts, he exhaled hard. “Magnificent. You’re one incredibly sexy package.”
She gave a full-body wriggle that jolted him half out of his chair. He completed the movement, picking her up and settling her onto the table. She leaned back on her elbows, gazing at him with dilated pupils, her face flushed. She rolled her hips, giving him access to the button on her jeans.
He popped it and tugged down her zipper. Her panties matched her bra. He stroked a finger across it. She jumped.
“I want to touch you,” she whispered. “Like you’re touching me.”
“Later.”
He curled his fingers into the waistband of her jeans and stripped her out of them, then slowly, so slowly, slid off her panties. When he could see all of her, he stopped and stared his fill, his eyes hot and predatory as they roamed her body. He rested his hands at the tops of her thighs, thumbs brushing the sensitive inner flesh. Back and forth, light little strokes designed to light her on fire.
“More,” she gasped. “More.”
“Not yet,” he growled. He shucked off his shoes and pushed his pants down his hips. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist, pulling him in. Her heat scorched him, and that was all she wrote. He grabbed for his wallet and the condom inside, ripped it open with his teeth, and flung away the wrapper. He sheathed himself in seconds.
Pushing her flat against the table, he pulled her to the edge of the wood, spread her legs with his hips, and pressed forward. She lifted her legs and again wrapped them around his waist, and this time, he slid home.
“Uhn,” she gasped. “Yeah. Oh, God, y
ou feel so good, Gabe.”
He couldn’t speak, couldn’t see. Could only feel her incredible heat, her legs pulling him in tighter, deeper. She was passion and flame, searing him as he plunged into her over and over. She was right there with him, squirming and writhing under him. He lost control, pistoning frantically and praying she came before he did.
She arched beneath him, crying out his name over and over as she shuddered and shook. He followed her over the edge, face buried in her breasts as he drove himself impossibly deeply and froze. His muscles seized as he orgasmed, the sensations so intense his vision grayed.
Chapter Twenty-One
CHRISTINA SPRAWLED, BONELESS, on top of the kitchen table. Gabe rested on top of her, his face pillowed on her breasts. All too soon, however, her back began to protest the awkward angle. She stirred, and Gabe lifted himself off her.
“Too heavy?” he asked, voice thick. He looked down at their bodies, where they were still joined, and gave that peculiarly male grin of satisfaction. “You are one hot piece of ass.”
His tone had been gentle, teasing, and she found herself laughing as he gathered her into his arms and carried her out of the kitchen, down the hallway, and into a bedroom. He laid her on the bed and stretched out next to her, one finger idly caressing her from shoulder to hip. She rolled onto her side to face him.
“What am I going to do with you, Gabe?” she murmured.
“Keep me?” he said. His face immediately closed down, as though the words had startled him. She touched his shoulder reassuringly, and he caught her hand, turning it over to press a kiss into her palm.
“For a while.” The thought of commitment unnerved him, it seemed. Her, too. But he’d said the words, and she mulled over the implications in her mind. After a few minutes, Gabe swung his legs over the side of the bed. Christina stroked his back. He pulled away from her and left the room. Before she could worry, though, he reappeared with his pants, sliding his cell phone out of a pocket. He punched in some numbers.
