by Karen Anders
It didn’t get more erotic than this, he thought, and then she proved him wrong. She locked her legs around him, her hands on his chest as she shoved him back, never stopping. Her hips curled in a rhythmic wave, letting him feel every inch of his erection sliding in her. For a moment Jammer was mesmerized by her stomach muscles contracting, her spine bending and pushing her hips into his. His hands closed over her breasts, thumbs circling slowly, and her eyelids lowered, their tempo increasing with her breathing.
He let her keep control. She seemed to need it. She gripped his arms, holding on and riding, faster and harder. She called his name, an expression almost like fear in her eyes. Jammer cupped the back of her head, forced her to look directly at him as his fingers skated over the bead of her sex. Her eyes glazed.
“More, please more,” she whispered, and he laid her down and hammered into her, felt the claw of her body on his, the rage of passion sweeping over him. He was uncontrollable with the mindless need to drive harder, and their momentum pushed her across the bed.
Yet she matched him, her hips pistoned to his. Then his world split, his climax burst, and she gripped him, moving faster as his body tightened and rocketed with exploding thrusts.
Gina arched, her spine bending so far he thought she’d snap. She clutched his hips, grinding him into her. “Kiss me, now.”
It was a primal directive and he took her lips like a man starving. She came, her scream muffled and shuddering into his mouth, her molten core jerking. He slammed into her, the rip of pleasure tearing over his skin, pulsing with her. They strained, held on, and let the sweep of it take them.
Jammer groaned, the waves of pure ecstasy crackling though him. She collapsed on the bed, and he’d barely caught his breath when she said, “I guess that slipper fit, after all.”
He chuckled and looked at her. Gina touched his face, pulled him down on her, and he rolled with her to his side, drawing her leg over his. For a long moment they just stared, damp, a tangle of legs and arms.
“You’re under my skin, Cinderella.”
Her eyes danced with a snappy comeback, but instead, she said, “Anywhere near your skin is fine with me.”
He leaned in and rubbed his mouth softly over hers. She snuggled closer, her eyes still caught in his.
“Think the whole hotel heard us?”
“Do you care?”
“There’s little that could embarrass me, Jammer.” She shifted on top of him, and Jammer reveled in her soft, lush, completely sexy body on his, sweeping his hand up her behind. They stayed like that, sinking into the sensations, the tenderness, then Gina braced her arms on his chest, her chin on her hands. He smiled.
“Let me know when you’re ready to do that again.”
Jammer laughed, clamping his arms around her and flipping her to her back. “No time like the present.” With his knee, he nudged her thighs wide.
“Ah, now you’re just showing off.”
A HALF AN HOUR LATER, his cell phone rang.
“There better be coffee on the other end of the line,” Gina said sleepily.
“I’m going to beat the hell out of whoever’s calling,” Jammer groused, reaching down and snagging his pants.
“Don’t answer it,” she muttered.
“I have to.” He smoothed his hand through her hair. “I’ve got too many irons in the fire.”
“I like the way you use your iron and your fire…”
Her voice faded as he glanced over. She was sprawled on the bed, half-asleep, every inch of her beautiful skin exposed. The ring came again, incessant and jangling.
“This had better be good,” he snapped into the phone.
“Sorry to bother you, boss, but I’ve done as you asked, contacted everyone you told me to contact. There just aren’t any weapons out there for purchase. Not the kind we need or the volume.”
“Talk to Romanoff. See what he’s got.”
Jammer ended the call and swore softly under his breath. “What’s wrong?”
He said nothing. He wasn’t going to drag her into his business. She could screw up this deal, a deal he’d staked his career and his life on. The situation was too dangerous and too volatile, and he liked Gina alive. Damned alive, as a matter of fact, especially when she melted all over him like warm chocolate. She had to get away from the shit before it hit the fan, because when it did, it was going to be ugly.
“Okay, be silent and deadly,” she said.
He rose and got dressed, and Gina watched him with her bright blue eyes.
“Your contacts have dried up. You’ve called everyone you know and there are no weapons to be found. You need a big, big shipment, but you’re already behind deadline and you’re getting pressure from the man who wants those weapons. He’s not being all that patient. You’re in a bad bind. You need me.”
In more ways than one. Another reason why he had to shut her out. “Think you’re pretty slick, slick?”
She rose and he got lost in all those moving curves and jiggles. She sat on the edge of the bed totally naked and crossed her legs as if she was at a garden party social.
“The way I see it you need my help, and I’m more than willing to cash in on this deal.” Her tone turned serious. With gunrunners, weapon buys were always serious.
But it reminded him of why she was really here-another twist in an already intricate maze that was his life.
“Yeah, because the deal we put together last time went so well.”
“That wasn’t your fault, Jammer. But you made sure it worked out in our favor.”
“I hated leaving your sister and her right-hand guy holding the bag.”
“You didn’t. My sister is very resourceful.” Callie couldn’t believe how resourceful Allie had been. She was extremely proud of her. Allie had been a tame interior designer when Drew Miller had mistaken her for Callie. Then he had embroiled her twin sister in an undercover mission, where she had posed as “Tina” to complete the deal Gina had made with Jammer in Paris before the hit-and-run had taken her out of commission. Despite the scare with Miyagi, it had turned out well, and Drew and Allie were now completely in love.
“Good, you got your cut.”
“I always get my cut.”
“Then you understand when I say that I have a business to run.”
“Right.” She rose and started to dress. As she pulled up and zipped her skirt, she turned to search for her boots. He was standing there with them in his fist.
She snatched the boots out of his hand and put them on. “It was always about the weapons, as it should be,” she said, turning her back to him. “Miyagi was my own personal problem.”
She marched to the door. “Look, I’m not one to push my services on anyone. If you don’t want to talk shop, I’m outta here.”
He grabbed her wrist and pulled her around. His gaze locked on hers, so intent, so focused.
“Gina,” he whispered, bringing his forehead near hers, his face inches away. “Surely you’ve got to know. I did it all for you. He was a man without a soul and an abuser and an enslaver of women. He tried to kill you, and for that he had to die. He got what he deserved.”
She was speechless and touched by this man who’d orchestrated the death of a monster who would have stopped at nothing to see her dead. It cut into her defenses-the defenses she needed to keep him at arm’s length. Standing this close, looking into his eyes, she saw no sign of deception, no wavering. He was either being completely honest and open to her at this moment or he was a really good actor.
“That’s hitting below the belt, Jammer.” Her voice was wobbling, but he’d have had that effect on her even if she wasn’t hanging by a thread.
“No, it’s not. Do you have any idea how hard it was to walk away from you in the hospital when you were injured?”
“But you did.”
“Yes, I did, because it was better for me and for you. I’ve got something to do and it encompasses everything that I am. I’m walking a fine line and it’s a fucking dange
rous one. I don’t want you on it. I cannot afford distractions and complications.”
“So you’re saying I’m both.”
“You are a big pain in the ass, Gina, and you know it.”
She laughed out loud because she did know it. She was too much of a smart aleck for her own good.
She wished she could be the one to walk away from him, but Watchdog had given her a mission and she was going to follow through on it. She was confident that Jammer wouldn’t find the weapons he was so desperate for without her.
“Okay, fine. It’s been a slice. I’ll see you around.” She looked at him, so steady, so strong-willed, so profoundly sure of himself. So very sure of her. And if she did her job, that would be his downfall.
She slowly extricated herself from his hand. This time he let her go. And, perversely, her heart fell.
His phone started to ring as she grabbed the doorknob. She got a lot of satisfaction in slamming the door as she left.
But that didn’t last long. Once in her own room, she started to pack. She would have to make it appear as if she was going, but she had no intention of letting this mission fail. The Ghost was as good as caught.
She whipped off her clothes and took a hot shower. She quickly dried herself off, squeezing the water out of her hair before running a comb through it. She slipped on a white silk robe with butterflies fluttering all over it.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she thought about how to hedge her bets. There was a time to give up and a time to fight. If she wanted to get to the Ghost, she was going to have to make sure that she was the only one with all the neat, cool toys.
She picked up the phone she used as Gina and dialed. When the voice answered at the other end, Callie said, “This is Gina Callahan. Let me speak to Reggie.”
But before her contact came on the phone, there was a quick, hard knock on her door. She told the guy that she would have to call him back, and then severed the connection.
When she pulled the door open, she did nothing to make it any easier for Jammer.
“Want a drink?” she asked, a smug smile drifting across her face.
With his stormy eyes and tight jaw he looked so dangerous that she swallowed. But her persona never wavered. Stepping away from the door with a nonchalance she didn’t feel, she walked over to the mini-bar, poured herself three fingers of vodka and downed it.
She sensed his presence behind her. He was like an inferno at her back. She felt the gentle stroke of his fingers down the smooth fabric of her silk robe.
“Let’s talk about the ground rules,” she said.
He laughed softly and turned her around. “There are no ground rules, Gina. I make the plans and you follow through. It’ll be fifty-fifty, just like last time. I have the buyer and you have the contacts. When I have what I need, we part company. Deal?”
He’d changed and showered, too, his hair a gorgeous spiked disarray. He smelled delicious and male. The baby-blue sweater and tight blue jeans all looked good on his heavily muscled body.
“Deal,” she said.
“This is easy for you, isn’t it? Just another deal in the many you’ve put together. Don’t you get tired of it?”
His questions and serious tone caught her off guard. Something about the morning beard shadowing his jaw, the way his hair wasn’t quite so naturally perfect, made his eyes darker and enhanced how impossibly thick his eyelashes were. And she really, really needed to stop focusing on his mouth. But the ruggedness the stubble lent to his face just emphasized those soft, sculpted lips of his.
Tired of playing the espionage game? Maybe a little, and maybe even more when she thought about how she’d have to put this man behind bars for the rest of his life. He wouldn’t soon forgive her for that. Gina Callahan was a role, and most undercover people would say that you couldn’t play at undercover. A persona must be lived, not adopted, or your identity would soon be given away.
But there was something so open and sincere in Jammer’s face that Callie couldn’t seem to get out the off-the-cuff words Gina would have said.
“Not when I deal so damn well,” she said, finally dodging that odd feeling that Jammer was looking right through her masquerade and seeing her, Callie Carpenter, peering out.
But that wasn’t possible, or they wouldn’t be having this conversation at all. Callie wasn’t under any illusion that if Jammer even suspected who she was he would come anywhere near her. What he had going with Fuentes was going to pay out big, and she was sure the Ghost wanted his score.
But this time Callie was going to be ready to nab him and fulfill her mission, a mission that had foiled more than one operative before her.
Jammer seemed disappointed in her answer and stepped forward. “You’re not tired of constantly looking over your shoulder? Wondering if the next deal is going to be the last? Giving up so damn much?”
She didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t expected this from him; each time she was with the man she found a different, more fascinating facet to him. He wasn’t a muscle-bound lackey at all, but an intelligent, forceful personality that kept her constantly on her toes.
“Jammer,” she said softly, reaching out to touch his face, his stubble rough against her palm.
He moved in closer, crowding her against the wall, his big body trapping her. Why couldn’t she resist him?
Because the sexual tension hadn’t abated one whit. But also, she told herself, because she could give in to him-commitment had nothing to do with lust. She could be as lustful as she wanted, crave his touch, want to know what he tasted like, felt like…and have absolutely no intention of settling into a relationship with him. She had a job to do.
Circumstances being what they were, she could be forgiven for simply taking what she could have. Him.
The silence expanded in a way that lent texture to the very air between them. He was so warm, the temperature rose a considerable notch.
“What do you want me to say? I don’t know-”
He buried his face in the crook of her neck and shoulder and sighed deeply. “Don’t say anything. It really won’t make a difference.”
He raised his head. His lips curved then, and her thighs-or more accurately, the muscles between them-suddenly felt a whole lot more wobbly.
His eyes were so dark, so deep, she swore she could fall right into them and never climb back out. And that part sad, part whimsical smile made it dizzyingly clear that Jammer was more than physically dangerous.
She was a trained operative, trained for all aspects of the clandestine job she performed, but Callie found the compassion she felt for people was a detriment. Like what had happened with Miyagi, a man whom she had originally tracked down-on her own and without the agency’s knowledge-because she’d empathized with another man, Jason Kyoto, who was trying to rescue his sister from Miyagi and a life of forced sexual slavery, and she’d vowed to help him. She’d gone rogue from Watchdog for just a short period of time. Sure, she’d made an enemy of Miyagi and almost got herself and Allie killed because of it, but she’d fulfilled her mission and saved Jason’s sister.
So it was disconcerting that the same compassion she’d felt was once again going to get her in hot water unless she resisted the impulse.
“What brought all these questions on?”
He lifted his hand, barely brushing the underside of her chin with his fingertips, and tipped her head back a bit farther.
“I think about you,” he said, his voice nothing more than a rough whisper.
Her skin tingled as if the words themselves had brushed against her.
“Too often. You distract me.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“It’s…an unexpected thing,” he said.
“I hear you. In our business distractions can get us killed.”
“Bingo,” he said. He smiled.
“Getting this close to me is going to help in some way? Although you won’t hear me complaining.”
His smile broadened as hi
s mouth lowered slowly toward hers. “Either that, or make all this distraction a lot more worthwhile. Let’s seal our deal with a kiss.”
It was never a question of not meeting his lips. Her body was fairly humming in anticipation and it was all she could do to refrain from grabbing his head and hurrying him the hell up.
It was just a kiss and a contract.
His lips brushed across hers. Warm, a little soft, but the right amount of firm. He slid his fingers along the back of her neck, beneath the hair on her nape, sending a delicious little shiver all the way down her spine.
He dropped another whisper of a kiss across her lips, then another, inviting her to participate, clearly not going any further unless she did. She respected that, a lot, even though part of her wished he’d taken the decision out of her hands. It would make all the self-castigation later much easier to avoid. Given his aversion to commitment, somehow she figured he knew that. They were either in it together or not at all.
She held his gaze for what felt like an eternity, and then slowly lowered her eyelids as she closed the distance between them and returned his kiss.
His fingers fluttered against the back of her neck when she opened her mouth on his, then pressed a bit harder as he accepted her compliance and nipped her bottom lip with a sensual tug before deepening the kiss.
She had no defense against this, against him. It was too delectable, and he was impossible to resist. Especially when she didn’t really want the contact to end. She shut out thoughts of what would happen next, and tried hard, very hard, to just enjoy this for as long as it lasted.
He pulled away. “Get packed. I’ve booked us for the States and the plane leaves in three hours.”
Then he was slipping out the door. Her mouth still tingled as she slumped against the wall. The door hadn’t fully closed when he leaned back inside and gave her a bad-boy smile.
“Get going,” he barked, and she flipped him the bird, but he only laughed.
3
THE LONG FLIGHT FROM Minsk put them into San Francisco just before dawn, and as they drove into St. Helena the sun was rising over the countryside, showcasing beautiful green vineyards, oak-lined streets and antique hotels. Callie saw a lot of activity for so early in the morning, but September in Napa was no time to rest, as it was the beginning of the grape harvest.
