by Cindy Dees
She cut him off. “I’m not accepting any apologies for that. Period. Got it?”
He smiled reluctantly at her and stroked back her silky hair. “Got it,” he murmured.
Lord, he wanted to make love to her right now. Not sweaty, slamming, sheet-tangling sex, but something slow and easy. Sensual. A give-and-take. The mere thought of it sent a shiver of anticipation up his spine. This was a woman to savor like a fine wine.
What was he thinking?
Julia spoke into his shocked stillness. “It’s pretty late. We probably ought to get a little sleep. Lord only knows what tomorrow will bring.”
He closed his eyes for a pained moment, forcing back his lecherous thoughts. She was right. And he was a horny bastard. He pulled her down into the crook of his arm and tucked her head on his shoulder.
“Tomorrow will take care of itself,” he ground out, barely hanging onto control. “We’ll worry about that in the morning. Sleep now.”
She snuggled against him like a sleek, contented kitten, and promptly went back to sleep. He sighed and settled in for a night of unfulfilled lust, but surprisingly, found himself relaxing into peaceful slumber.
His last thought before he went unconscious was that he and Julia were racing down the fast track to disaster. But who the hell cared? It was going to be one incredible ride.
Chapter Seven
They slept late, and Dutch awoke to a gorgeous, sunny morning, refreshed from a no-kidding, decent night’s sleep. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had one of those. Only a faint residue of his nightmare remained, tainting the bright light of morning with its ominous shadow. He’d been trained in how to deal with violent thoughts and memories, and with a little work he was able to put the horror of his nightmare into perspective. However, the exercise left behind a deep restlessness within him.
They got in the SUV and he drove like a man on the run from something that scared the hell out of him. Truth be told, he was scared. Scared of what Julia did to his head.
And of what she did to his heart.
He drove until late that night, heading west this time, into New Mexico. The first order of business was to ditch whoever was following them. Then he would worry about getting Julia access to a secure computer and an Internet connection.
What was it about those snippets of memory that had him so freaked out? He knew the high points of what he was starting to recall already. It wasn’t as if any big shocks awaited him. Too damned many unanswered questions were floating around in his head, and not only about his lost memories. He was ready for some solid answers.
He felt like a runaway train, gathering more and more speed as he rolled toward a terrible calamity. Since this crazy mission had begun, it seemed as though the only glue holding him together was the gentle, frightened, lying woman beside him. Frustration rumbled through him. How could she be the cause of his problem and the cure? It made no sense.
He glanced over at Julia. She’d been silent for much of the day, staring out the car window, her eyes dark and troubled. If he could only get inside her head! But she steadfastly held him at arm’s length.
Which was just as well because he needed to focus all his attention on what he was doing. He wasn’t used to operating inside the United States. Most of his work took place overseas in nasty corners of the world with little or no technology, archaic telecommunications systems, and in some cases, barely any electricity. This country was a whole lot harder to hide in.
It was late, he was getting tired, and the winding mountain roads were treacherous in the dark. He was going to get them killed if he pushed too much harder. He started looking for someplace to stop for the night.
The unrelenting darkness of the mountains began to give way before the lights of civilization, and gift shops and hotels became abundant. They were getting close to Santa Fe and its dense tourist population. Perfect. He randomly picked one of the many mid-price, medium-size hotels in the area and checked in. Hopefully, he and Julia would get lost in the sheer volume of people in a place like this.
He parked so his vehicle wasn’t visible from the street and led Julia in a side entrance. He took a quick look at the layout of the building as they headed for their room. Standard H. Two long halls of rooms connected by a crossing hallway in the middle. Elevators, ice machines and stairwells in the middle, fire escapes at the end of each leg of the building.
He dumped his jacket on the bed, its pockets stuffed with a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a razor he’d pulled out of his bags. Julia dropped her oversized purse, similarly loaded, and flopped down wearily on the bed beside his coat. They needed to be able to move fast from here on out, so he’d vetoed unloading any cumbersome luggage.
Though he knew he shouldn’t, he sat down beside Julia and reached over to massage her shoulders, rolling the muscles under his hands and working loose the accumulated kinks of stress and fatigue.
She groaned in pleasure as he worked his way down her back and then up each side of her spine with his fingertips.
She mumbled, “Where did you get so good at this?”
He smiled. “It’s part of my first-aid training. We get sore after some of the wilder stuff we do.”
She looked over her shoulder, grinning widely. “You guys give each other massages like this? I can’t say as I pictured that of you big bad Special Forces soldiers.”
An errant image of the guys in his squad all sitting around giving each other back rubs popped into his head. He snorted. “Hardly. But our team has a medic who’s a miracle worker at keeping us in fighting condition. I’ve picked up a few things from him over the years.”
She turned her head, giving him better access to her neck. “Well, I’m not complaining about it one bit. This is pure heaven.”
He grunted. More like pure hell. The way her skin slid like satin under his palms, the little moans she was making in the back of her throat, the sheer sensual pleasure she allowed herself to feel… Oh yeah. Definitely an inner circle of hell.
He lifted his hands away from her. “A hot shower should take care of the rest,” he managed to grit out.
“Thanks,” she murmured as she headed straight for the bathroom.
Sure. No sweat. He worked himself into unsatisfied sexual frenzies all the time for fun. No problem. He’d just go over and jump out the window now. He fell back on the bed and groaned in utter frustration.
He lay there for several minutes, doing his level best to think about anything except hot water sluicing down that delicious body of hers, turning her skin all rosy and forming rivulets between her breasts, heating up the flesh between her thighs… Hell, maybe he should go for the window.
After nearly a half hour, the water finally cut off in the shower. He slitted one eye open and glanced toward the bathroom. Both of his eyes popped open. Julia’d cracked the door open, no doubt to let out the clouds of steam billowing forth, and he had a clear view of the bathroom mirror from where he lay. A vague, honey-colored shape moved sinuously in the foggy glass. Hello. His senses leaped to full alert.
If he were a gentleman, he would turn away. But he was just a soldier. And horny as shit. He wanted her worse than he wanted to draw his next breath.
A square of white joined the dusky reflection, gliding across the shapely form. The condensation on the mirror evaporated a bit, and he was able to make out slender arms wrapping languorously around her body as she dried herself.
More detail came into view as the fog cleared. God bless the dry, mountain air! As she bent over to towel her legs, her back was long and graceful. Black, wet hair streamed down it. His hand ached to fist itself in that dark mass and pull her down on top of him, trapping her body against his.
She turned around, and he made out the outline of her breasts. They weren’t large, but sweet Mother of God, they were beautifully made. They would arch up into him so sweetly, with their dusky, hard buds rubbing his skin…
Her face looked foreign, exotic, with her hair slicked back, as her high
cheekbones and big, dark eyes came into focus. She fiddled with something on the counter, and then she propped a foot up on the toilet. The mirror cleared a bit more and one long, slender leg came into view. He watched greedily as she smoothed lotion over her thigh, already feeling its sleek smoothness wrapped around his waist. Her hand slid down over the shapely curve of her calf with almost pornographic appeal.
She gave the same maddening treatment to the other leg, and then she reached for another towel. She glanced into the mirror. And froze. Her gaze locked with his in shock. He didn’t look away. Couldn’t. He was a cad, but he was absolutely mesmerized by the sight of her.
She stared at him for a long moment, and then wrapped the towel absently around herself as she continued to hold his gaze. She felt for the doorknob and pulled it the rest of the way open. And then she was looking at him directly, her eyes smoky with passion.
A step toward him. And another. He willed her closer with his gaze, his cock pounding with desperate need to have this cat-eyed beauty. Right now. She put one knee on the bed.
And then he lost his formidable control. He surged up, wrapping her in his arms and tumbling her on top of him. Her skin was hot and damp, and she burned him alive with the fire in her eyes. He tugged at the towel. It slid from between them and he flung it aside.
Her hungry mouth captured his, as incendiary as the rest of her. Ah, good Lord, her breasts felt exactly as he’d imagined they would against his chest. And then her tongue was inside his mouth, swirling and dancing around his. Somehow, he managed to want her even more ferociously. His lust was downright painful as he dragged her higher against him, devouring her mouth like an addict way overdue for a fix.
Her silken legs straddled his hips and he groaned as her burning flesh rubbed against his cock. He was dangerously close to exploding. She laughed deep in her throat, a husky, throaty sound that was pure sex. Who’d have guessed that inside sweet Julia lurked such a tigress? She was driving him plumb out of his mind!
But the further he spun out of control, the more fear gripped him. Finally, drenching terror overwhelmed his lust and made him break out in a cold sweat. Control was the one thing he must not let go of. Dared not. The beast within surged, clawing at his sanity. A driving need to do violence roared up like a volcano from deep within him. No! Not to Julia!
He tore his mouth away from hers, panting wildly in his struggle to wrestle down the strange, primitive urge inside him. How long he fought it, he didn’t know. But gradually he became aware of her soft hands cupping his face. Her dark, worried eyes gazing at him.
Dammit! He’d almost lost it completely, and he hadn’t even had a blackout or a nightmare! Dread coiled like a viper lurking in the detritus of his mind. He had to get control of himself. And having sex with Julia sure as hell wasn’t the way to do that.
He rolled out from underneath her and stood up, pushing his hand through his short hair. He swore viciously, reining in his disgust at himself enough to mumble, “Dammit, I’m sorry, Julia. I’m a bastard.”
He stumbled to the shower and turned on the hot water full blast. He braced his hands against the cold tile, his head hanging low. He hardly felt the water’s scalding needles stinging his skin. What in the hell was he going to do? His career, his life, was slipping through his fingers like sand, and he couldn’t seem to snatch a single grain of it back.
Julia lay naked on the bed, stunned. What had just happened? To her and to Dutch? One hot look from him, and she’d walked straight into his arms and his bed without a second thought. Was she crazy? She knew better than to let down her guard with him. Every time he looked deep into her eyes, she lost another piece of her heart.
He obviously wanted her so bad he could hardly stand it. She was sure of that. How any guy in his right mind walked away from a woman who was as eager as she was to jump into the sack, she had no idea. But the self-discipline he could muster up was nearly beyond her comprehension. Thank goodness for it, or heaven only knew what kind of mess she’d be in now. She had no business even contemplating sleeping with a man, much less one who planned to kill her.
Abruptly aware of her nudity, she hastily pulled on her clothes. She fished around in Dutch’s coat pocket and found his keys. She needed his Internet-capable computer. It was time to end this game.
She slipped out of the hotel room and hurried down to the parking lot. She found his laptop in the back seat, next to a plastic grocery bag of food. She grabbed both and headed back to the room. She slipped the key card into its slot and pushed the door open. And only managed to gasp before a hand slapped over her mouth, cutting off all her air. Panic slammed into her almost as hard as the big, hot body behind her did. Dutch.
He must have recognized her in almost the same instant she recognized him, because the iron hand fell away from her mouth and she stumbled as she was abruptly released from his powerful grasp.
He demanded, “What the hell were you thinking, going out by yourself? You could’ve been jumped and snatched before I had any idea there was a problem.”
His jaw rippled with tension. She sighed. He was right. She hadn’t stopped to think about her safety before she’d raced out to get the computer.
“And for God’s sake,” he lectured, “if you do get separated from me, announce yourself before you come barging back into the room. I could’ve broken your neck!”
She looked up into his eyes and asked gently, “Do you honestly think you could ever hurt me?”
His anguished blue gaze met hers. His answer sounded torn from his throat. “I don’t know what I’m doing half the time anymore.”
“I went out to the car to get the laptop so I can get to work on downloading Eduardo’s records.”
He nodded grimly. “I’m gonna go shave and finish getting dressed. Have at it.”
She noticed for the first time since he’d nearly scared the life out of her that he was shirtless. His stomach and chest were a breathtaking mass of muscle. He was so beautiful to look at it practically made her ache.
Somehow, she tore her gaze away from him and sat down at the room’s desk. She connected to the hotel’s wifi quickly. Finally. Access to Dutch’s computer. Maybe she could find the Blackjacks’ bank account number while she was at it.
Bypassing the security on Dutch’s machine was a piece of cake. It wasn’t a half-bad firewall, but it was designed to keep out a casual hacker—not someone like her, who’d spent years learning all the latest security measures and how to bypass them. Governments routinely made runs at her father’s financial details, and Eduardo had tasked her with protecting the data. He’d paid for the finest illegal training money could buy for her to learn how to hack and counter-hack with the best crooks in the business.
She scrolled down through the directory of files on Dutch’s machine, looking quickly for one that might have the bank account number in it.
“So tell me something, Dutch,” she called through the open door of the bathroom. “How come a good-looking guy like you is still single?”
A snort over the sound of water running in the sink. “No time.”
No sign of the information she was looking for, although there was a cluster of encrypted files. Probably not a good idea to break into them right now when he could stroll out of the bathroom anytime and see what she was doing.
She asked aloud, “Meaning you don’t have the time or you don’t make the time?” Her fingers raced over the keyboard, signing the system on to the Internet. No answer from Dutch. She glanced up and saw him staring at her in the mirror.
“Why do you ask?” he rumbled warningly.
She typed in her password to the server she’d connected to. A welcome message flashed on the computer screen. She shrugged. “Just trying to get to know you a little better. I mean,” she added, “it’s not like it’s any surprise to me that you’re single.”
The water running in the sink cut off abruptly. Crud. He stepped out into the bedroom, shaving cream smeared all over his face. “Why’s tha
t?” he demanded a shade indignantly.
She grinned to herself and, accessing a search engine, typed in a search command for Eduardo Ferrare and a bank in Hong Kong that was known to have no scruples about the provenance of money deposited in its accounts.
For the last few weeks she’d been methodically searching every major bank in every major banking city in the world. Her father’s secret account was out there somewhere. She would find it eventually. It was only a matter of time.
As the computer performed the search, she looked up from the keyboard. And leaned back in her chair, captivated by Dutch’s reaction to her comment. His shoulders were all bunched up around his ears, and she could see his jaw muscles moving, even under a layer of shaving cream. Oh, he was really annoyed. Didn’t like having his romantic prowess questioned, did he?
Amused, she answer lightly, “Well, you’re such a control freak, I can’t imagine any woman putting up with you for too long.”
“A control freak?” he all but bellowed.
She bit back outright laughter. “Well, yes.”
He spun and stomped back into the bathroom. She watched him in the mirror pick up his razor and begin slashing at his face with it.
She commented blandly, “Be careful, there. You wouldn’t want to slit your throat by accident.”
She caught his glare and looked away hastily before she could laugh aloud and further bruise his ego. She noticed information was beginning to scroll across the computer screen. Leaning forward eagerly, she scanned the data rolling down the screen.
Holy crap. Had she found it? Was this the secret account she knew he was hiding even from her?
The number of a bank account flashed up on her screen. She had an eidetic memory for numbers, and she had never seen this account identification before.
Hah! She’d done it! Now to break into it…
She typed commands furiously and more information popped up. It was true. Eduardo did have a bank account in Hong Kong that he’d tried to hide from her. It was just like her father to have one final safeguard of his fortune, a nest egg he hid from even his own flesh and blood. God. The man’s paranoia knew no bounds.
