Risk It All

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Risk It All Page 19

by Katie Ruggle


  “Get in bed.” Henry’s voice broke the frightening spell, and she turned her head from the French doors and the unknown that lay beyond them. He must’ve misread her hesitation as a reprimand for his bossiness, because his tone mellowed when he continued, “You’re cold.”

  Rather than explain why she was freaked out, she took the excuse he offered and folded back the covers to reveal a bare mattress beneath. “You didn’t happen to see any sheets when you were nosing around, did you?”

  Wordlessly, he turned and opened the closet, pulling a set of folded flannel sheets from the top shelf. As he brought them over, Cara pulled the covers off all the way. For some reason, she half expected him to dump the sheets on her and watch while she made the bed, but he did his part with the hospital-cornered efficiency that screamed boot camp—or nurses’ training.

  As she held a pillow under her chin so she could slide a case over it, she studied him curiously. She’d investigated his background, but she’d been focusing more on the crimes he was accused of and possible places he might be hiding out. This small detail made her realize how little she actually knew about the facts of his life.

  “Were you in the military?” she asked, making him pause with another pillowcase in his hand.

  “Not really.”

  Frowning, she said, “That’s not a good answer, as answers go.”

  For that, she got an amused upward lip twitch in response, but no clarification.

  “Were you trained as a nurse?” She was determined to get some answers out of the man. For as close as she felt to him, she knew very little about the details of his life.

  He blinked. “As a medic, yeah. How’d you guess?”

  “The hospital corners on your sheets.” She could tell he hadn’t expected that answer, and she gave herself a point for surprising him. “Plus, there’s that way you look at me when you think I might be injured. It’s clinical, but also…not.” Her skin warmed as she thought about the way his eyes blazed with concern for her whenever she was shot at or almost blown up or driven off a cliff.

  He made a hmm sound, even as his gaze locked on her. The heat in his expression made her squeeze the pillow she still held to her chest.

  “Yeah.” Her voice was husky. “That’s the look, except with a double helping of lust.”

  A laugh burst out of him, and she gave herself a solid ten points and a high five for that.

  Ducking her head to hide her pleased smile, she dropped the pillow onto the mattress and flipped the thick quilts over the newly made bed. As she climbed in, giving a little shiver at the cool flannel against her bare feet, Henry crossed the room and checked the lock on the French doors. When he turned back around, she could see he was scowling again.

  “What’s wrong?” She drew the quilts up to her chin, feeling like a kid hiding under the covers from the things that went bump in the night—although Abbott’s boogeymen were all too real.

  “That lock’s too…” His voice trailed off as he met her eyes, finishing with a brusque wave of his hand as if he was dismissing his concerns.

  “What?” His uncharacteristic hesitance made her even more worried than she’d been before he’d answered—or hadn’t answered. “What’s wrong with the lock?”

  “Nothing’s wrong with it.” When she raised her eyebrows skeptically, he relented. “It’s just not the kind I would’ve chosen if this were my place.”

  She couldn’t hold back a snort.

  “What?” He echoed her earlier question.

  “As if you’d have French doors on your house.” He gave her a look but didn’t argue, and she grinned in triumph. “Your dream home is probably an underground bunker with enough supplies to last through a nuclear winter.”

  He looked slightly put-out, but she noticed he still didn’t deny it.

  “You wouldn’t even want a window, much less a French door with a piddly lock.”

  “I’m fine with windows.” He sounded a bit grumpy that she’d read him so well. “As long as they have bullet-resistant glass and solid locks.”

  “And bars?”

  Shooting a final glare at the French doors under discussion, he circled to the other side of the bed. “No. Not crazy about bars.”

  His grim expression reminded her that he’d been behind bars, at least for the short time before he’d bonded out. Her urge to tease him more about his love of home security faded, and she burrowed deeper under the covers before changing the subject. “Did you check all the doors and windows downstairs to make sure they’re locked?”

  His What do you think? look was answer enough. Before he got into bed, he paused for a fraction of a second, making Cara wonder if he felt any of the heavy sexual tension that she did. Then he was climbing in, as expressionless as always, and suddenly his muscular body was very, very close. She went still, not wanting to accidentally touch him but, at the same time, really wanting to intentionally touch him.

  Quit being ridiculous, she scolded herself before turning onto her side so she was facing away from him. The problem with that, she soon discovered, was that she was now looking right at the French doors of doom. Not only was the darkness outside eerie and filled with possible dangers, but the flickering firelight created spooky, shifting shadows around the loft.

  She closed her eyes, which helped shut down her imagination as far as murderous intruders went, but it made her so much more aware of the other person sharing the bed with her. Even though she was on the very edge of the bed, he was close enough that she could feel his heat on her back, radiating more warmth than the woodstove downstairs. He didn’t move, didn’t shift or squirm or even breathe audibly, and she found herself straining to hear him.

  Even as aware of him as she was, she jolted, her eyes popping open, when a huge hand settled lightly on her upper arm.

  “We’re safe here tonight,” he rumbled quietly. “No one’s out looking in this snow. Even if they were, they couldn’t find us. Go to sleep, and stop worrying.”

  Her exhaled puff of air came out too fast. “I can’t just stop worrying because you order me to.”

  His only answer was a pat on her arm before his hand withdrew. She immediately missed it, the way his broad palm covered most of the space between her shoulder and elbow. Even with her long sleeves, she could still feel the comforting heat of his hand. He was still and quiet again, and she was back to staring tensely at the shadows, which wasn’t helping her attempt to sleep. Giving up, she rolled to her back and then to her other side, making sure to stay in her little section of the too-narrow mattress.

  “How long do you think we’ll be hiking tomorrow?” she asked, more to break the charged silence than anything else.

  “Hard to tell.” He was staring at the lofted ceiling. Even in that position, flat on his back, he still looked huge to her. “Depends on how much snow we get, what the terrain’s like, what obstacles we encounter.”

  “Obstacles like big rocks or obstacles like bears?”

  In the dim, red-tinted firelight, she could see the corner of his mouth twitch. “Hopefully neither.”

  “Hmm.” The way the past twenty-four hours had gone, she wasn’t going to rely on hope or luck. “I think I’ll expect the worst. That way, I’ll be happily surprised when we’re not dismembered and eaten.”

  “Probably a good idea.”

  Cara realized that despite the gory subject of their conversation, talking to Henry had relaxed her. Now that she was facing him, she couldn’t see any of the shadowed corners of the room, which helped settle her imagination as well. Having the bulky shape of his body under the covers was comforting, and she closed her eyes again—this time because she was truly tired, and not just to hide from scary things. To her surprise, she was actually relieved to be sleeping right next to Henry. Now that they were all tucked in, it didn’t seem like the unbearable temptation that she’d expected.


  Chapter 14

  She’d worried about being able to fall asleep with Henry, but it turned out that wasn’t a problem. Waking up…now that was a problem.

  It was her own fault. For some reason, her unconscious self thought it would be a fantastic idea to wrap herself around him like a four-armed octopus clinging to a treasured toy. More of her was stretched on top of Henry than was on the bed. Her head was using his chest as a pillow, and she’d even grabbed a handful of his T-shirt and was clutching it in her fist. She kept her eyes closed for a moment, not wanting to move. She hadn’t felt so comfortable and safe in…well, ever.

  When she finally allowed her eyes to open, she blinked as she adjusted to the thin early-morning light. Most of what she saw in front of her was his borrowed shirt, stretched too tightly over his endless expanse of chest. Luckily, she didn’t see any sign that she’d drooled. Worried that he’d wake up and see how she was clinging to him, she decided to just peel herself away from him as quickly as possible, like pulling off a body-size Band-Aid.

  The problem was that she didn’t really want to move. Her spot on top of Henry and under the covers was lovely and warm, and the air stinging the tops of her ears had a cruelly cold edge to it. She knew the floor would be icy against her bare feet, too. It didn’t help to know that this would most likely be the last time she was warm and comfortable that day, since it’d be filled with hiking and fording rivers and dodging bullets and probably more hand grenades when Abbott caught up to them.

  Her body tensed, so she pushed thoughts of Abbott away. If these were the last comfortable moments for her, then she was going to enjoy every one. She relaxed against Kavenski for a few indulgent minutes. Without lifting her head, she couldn’t see whether he was awake or not.

  He was still on his back, unmoving except for the rise and fall of his chest under her cheek. One of his arms was draped over her waist. Although he wasn’t holding on to her, she doubted she’d be able to slip off him without waking him—not with his ninja reflexes. That was another good reason for her to stay exactly where she was.

  Not knowing whether he was awake or not was making her aware of every tiny motion she made. Even breathing took on an intensity with her chest pressed against him. Overly conscious of all the places where they touched, she found herself holding her body completely still.

  Quit being ridiculous, she scolded herself. Bracing her hands, Cara pushed off his chest enough that she could look at his face.

  He was wide awake, watching her.

  Of course he was. Although she knew he couldn’t stay awake all the time, she couldn’t imagine him ever sleeping. Being unconscious would make him too vulnerable.

  Their eyes locked, and her good morning evaporated along with every thought in her head. All she could focus on was the obvious desire that filled his normally stony expression. All that intensity, all that desperate hunger was for her—boring, cautious, lackluster bounty hunter and wannabe kindergarten teacher Cara.

  He wanted her.

  Without even realizing what she was doing, she lowered her head toward his, drawn in like iron to a magnet. She stopped when their lips were only a breath apart, never breaking their connected gaze.

  What are you doing? a tiny, practical part of her screamed—the part that usually ran her life in an ordered and measured way. For once, she ignored it. She knew that this was dumb. It was foolhardy to involve herself any more with Henry Kavenski, who’d already swept her up into his personal tornado of trouble. Because of him, she’d been kidnapped, almost shot, almost blown to bits, driven off a cliff, and dragged through a blizzard wearing sleeves on her feet. A smart person would try to get far away from Henry as fast as she could. A smart person wouldn’t be a fraction of an inch away from kissing him. A smart person wouldn’t like him so darn much.

  “Guess I’m not that smart,” she whispered, making Henry’s mouth quirk slightly.

  “I disagree. You’re too smart to get involved with me,” he said, as if every one of her thoughts had flashed across her forehead like a digital sign.

  “Guess I’m an idiot, then.” Without allowing herself to think of all the reasons she shouldn’t be doing this, she closed the tiny gap between their mouths and pressed her lips to his.

  As if he’d been waiting for her to take that final step that tipped them over the edge, he burrowed his fingers through her sleep-mussed hair and pressed down on the back of her head, sealing their mouths more closely together. Their kiss went from a gentle press of lips to a wild ravaging of mouths in less than a second, as if that initial contact was the spark igniting the banked heat that had been smoldering between them since their kiss the previous night.

  Exhilaration rushed through her, lighting her up from the inside, and she knew this had been inevitable since the moment she first opened his file. It made no sense to get involved with this bail jumper who’d brought truckloads of trouble down on her, but it was too late for second thoughts. She’d driven right off that cliff with him. She was involved.

  Without breaking the kiss, he rolled them both over so she was beneath him, being pressed into the mattress by his heavy form. It was her turn to wrap her arms around him, one hand cupping the back of his skull while the other clutched at the muscles of his unyielding shoulders. It wasn’t until he released her mouth to explore the line of her jaw that Cara was able to suck in a harsh breath, but breathing wasn’t that important a concern right now, not when Henry was teasing a sensitive spot right below her ear with just the slightest nip of his teeth.

  Her fingers dug into his back, and she made a frustrated sound when the fabric of his shirt prevented her from touching his skin. She yanked at the T-shirt, trying to tug it up and off his body, but their closeness prevented her from removing it. He pushed himself up enough for her to drag it over his head, and then he finished pulling it off his arms before tossing it away.

  The faint dawn light illuminated the hard surface of his bare, lightly furred chest, and she pushed at his shoulder until he was on his back and she was once again on top. Straddling his waist, she sat up so she could fully explore the skin that had just been revealed. As frantic and intense as their kiss had been, she felt as if she’d been waiting a long time to be able to touch him freely, and she wasn’t about to rush the experience.

  From his agonized groan when she traced the muscled lines of his chest, Henry was very willing to rush things.

  “Patience is a virtue,” she teased, flicking one of his nipples with the edge of her short fingernail.

  His abs jumped, and his moan turned to a growl. “I’ve been patient.” Grabbing the bottom of her shirt, he yanked it up, and she willingly raised her arms so he could pull it off. “I’ve wanted to do this since I first spotted you tailing me. I’ve been plenty patient.”

  With that, their positions were reversed again, and his stubbly cheek brushed the underside of her chin as he nibbled down the side of her neck. The influx of sensations made goose bumps rise under his touch, and she shivered as he worked his way to the top of her chest. She ran her fingers through his hair, clutching the strands convulsively when he finally drew her nipple into his hot mouth.

  Releasing it, he blew out a breath that made her gasp as the hot air hit her breast. “You’re even more beautiful than I imagined you’d be.” He made his way down to her belly, and she couldn’t believe that she’d just chided him about a lack of patience when she was about to scream if he kept up his torturously slow pace. Her stomach muscles twitched and flinched under the dual sensations of his smooth tongue and lips and the rasp of his stubbly jaw against her skin.

  “You imagined me?” she managed to say, not caring that it didn’t make much sense. She was so lost to everything she was feeling that she was impressed she was able to get a few coherent words out.

  He pressed his rough cheek to her lower belly and groaned, the sound vibrating through her. “All the time. Thoug
hts of you kept me awake at night.”

  “Like a nightmare?” Her laugh turned into a hiccupping gasp as he yanked her borrowed pants down her hips.

  “You do haunt me,” he admitted, although his low chuckle took any sting out of his words. Then he was sliding down her pants, pulling them off her ankles and tossing them in the same direction that their shirts had gone. His mouth followed a path up her calf to her inner thighs and then higher, and she lost any hold she’d had on the thread of their conversation.

  His mouth and fingers brought her to the edge, erasing everything from her mind except the feel of him. She called his name as she reached for him, wanting him over her, inside her, as close as they could possibly be, but he resisted her insistent tugs on his hair. Instead, he continued touching and kissing her, seeming to know exactly how much pressure in just the right spot would drive her absolutely wild. Her back arched as the sensations drew her muscles tighter and tighter until her pleasure peaked. As her climax rushed through her, intensifying with every puff of his breath on her damp skin, she clung to him, needing to anchor herself. He allowed her grip as he rested his scratchy cheek on her belly.

  As the pleasure ebbed, leaving behind a warm, pleasant lassitude, she ran her fingers through his hair and let her breathing return to normal. She felt him sigh, the rush of his breath hot against her skin, before he eased away from her and sat up.

  “What about you?” she asked, pushing up onto her elbows so she could see him.

  “No condoms,” he said with a rueful grimace, and she blinked, startled by the fact that she’d completely forgotten about the need for protection.

  “Right,” she said, feeling a little flustered by how open his expression was, such a change from her normally reserved rescuer. “Too bad the cabin owners didn’t provide them along with the toothbrushes and board games.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched upward as his eyes glinted with humor, and Cara felt a rush of affection. The Henry who’d just given her the most amazing orgasm of her life was the same guy who hadn’t flinched as he drove them off the cliff. There were so many facets to the man in front of her, and she wanted to know them all.

 

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