by Zoe Dawson
Then he snuggled up against her as Emma turned into his embrace, his kiss intensifying when her naked breasts grazed his chest. Slipping his hand up her hip and across her back, he separated his legs and settled her between his thighs, and Emma’s breath caught at the feel of his naked body molded fully against hers. Raking her hair back, Derrick drew away from the kiss, then firmly nestled her head again in the curve of his shoulder. “Now go to sleep, babe,” he whispered gruffly.
Emma closed her eyes, loving the feel of his arms around her, feeling again safe and secure for the first time in a very long time.
The room was dark when Emma woke up, the silence only broken by Derrick’s even breathing. She glanced at the clock to see it was late evening. They’d slept for a long time, refilling their wells. It had been a trying two days fighting for their lives.
She was suddenly starving again. When she moved, a strong, muscled arm snagged her around the waist and drew her against him. “What time is it?”
“Nine,” she whispered against his silky jaw.
“I’m—”
“Starving?”
He chuckled.
“Yeah, me, too.” He rose and scooped her up and headed for the bathroom, where they enjoyed touching and caressing each other in the shower while the warm water washed away their lovemaking. Once they were dry and back out into the room, Emma dressed in a pair of gray shorts and a soft, shapeless top that did nothing to hide her full breasts, while Derrick donned a pair of black shorts, leaving his chest bare. Emma couldn’t protest that. They ordered room service, then after their meal went for a quick walk around the grounds.
In a lighted courtyard, they settled onto a bench. A nighttime stillness had settled outside, and a breeze rustled through the fronds on the palms, filling the air with a soft whispering sound. They were holding hands, not something Emma usually did with a man she’d first met and, in this case, something as unexpected as getting involved with someone she was working with, not to mention someone with his alpha tendencies. Her independent nature balked at it, but with Derrick, it just seemed to work. “What we’re doing here,” Derrick said.
“Is crazy,” Emma added.
He looked away. “To say the least. I was drawn to you from the get-go. You took me by surprise. The way you hold yourself, the way you stood up to your grandmother, your confidence, your ease with yourself and everyone else. You’re a natural and draw attention just by being yourself.” He reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, then very lightly ran his fingertip along her cheekbone and down along her chin.
The brief contact made her shiver, but in a damn good way. He talked about commanding attention. He had no idea.
“I could say the same thing about you,” she said, which caused his gaze to intensify, so many shades of Derrick.
“I was against bringing you, and my reasons were sound. The emotional attachment was only the tip of the iceberg.”
“You thought we’d end up in bed together? That’s pretty presumptuous.”
He shrugged, looking rugged and unapologetic. She rather liked that. “I don’t waste energy fighting against the inevitable. That’s not exactly true. I wasted some energy wrestling with it.”
She smiled and shook her head.
“What?” She raised a brow and he huffed out a short laugh. “Oh, that sounded so arrogant. Okay, maybe I’m sure of myself, too.”
“Ya think?” She nudged him and he laughed again.
“I don’t know where we’re going or how this is going to pan out, but my life has been different, Emma. Maybe too different for me to be in any kind of a relationship. I’m a loner.”
“Maybe that’s because you’ve always been alone. Engineered it that way?”
He swallowed and looked away. “Talking about my past isn’t something I normally do. To anyone.”
She nodded. It was no surprise this man had some scars. It was there in his eyes and in his voice. Curiosity and a deep-seated need to know fueled her craving for more details. If Derrick couldn’t share with her, that was something she could accept, understood even. Hell, her childhood and adult life were also rife with scars. It wasn’t lost on her that she was also very good at deflecting interest and keeping things on a superficial level, but she found with Derrick that was nigh impossible. She wanted more. That thought scared her more than anything had in her life. She was the one who dictated how a relationship would go. She was the one who called the shots. Was that because she needed to call the shots to keep herself on top in a relationship, to keep herself from getting hurt?
She craved an equal partnership but was always demanding control. How would that work with a man who had the same kind of need for control as she did?
“Derrick, you don’t have to—”
“I want to, that’s the crazy thing about all this. The strength of the attraction between us isn’t something to be easily dismissed. I’m certain what we shared goes both ways. If I’m wrong, let me know, and we’ll just keep this simple.”
“I think simple went out the window from the moment I pointed my gun at your impossibly broad shoulders, and you blindsided me with those cobalt blue eyes.”
“Yeah, helluva way to meet.”
She laughed. “That’s a good story. Mommy pointed a gun at Daddy—”
His sharp intake of air wiped the smile off her face. “Derrick, it was just a joke.”
He closed his eyes, resting his head on her shoulder. Moved beyond measure, she slipped her hand into his hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“I know you didn’t, Emma. It’s my own stuff.” He took a deep breath.
She cupped his face and raised his head. Kissing him softly on the mouth, she said, “Talk to me if you want to. But if you’re not ready…”
“I’ve never had a family.” He leaned back against the bench seat, the breeze ruffling his hair so dark against his forehead. He looked down, more pensive than she’d ever seen him. “My parents either died a long time ago, when I was a baby, or something else happened. I didn’t even know them. I don’t remember them at all. I lost all ties to the people who do remember. No one tells a kid anything, so the circumstances are just…lost.”
She closed her eyes and took a breath of her own. Boy, did she know exactly what he was talking about. “When I lost my parents, everyone acted like it was okay. Part of it, I’m sure, was to lessen the trauma. But there’s no minimizing that kind of pain.”
He turned tormented eyes toward her with a look she was sure he’d never shown to another living soul. If he hadn’t stolen her heart, this would have done her in. “Oh, Derrick. You don’t have to do this—”
Derrick stiffened. “No…I need to tell you. I want to tell you.” His voice was strained. “I don’t want to be alone anymore. You do that to me.”
She waited until he gathered his composure. “I was in the foster system and in and out of homes until I was about ten. I knew the score even then. I wasn’t some lost boy pickpocket, but I was a thief. It made me feel good to slip inside a home and take something personal. I’d never been caught until Jerome Thompson III caught me. But instead of turning me over to the police, he adopted me.”
He shifted to look at her. “I thought it was cool to be taken in by this rich guy. But adopting me had nothing to do with me at all. It had to do with him preserving his legacy and his money. He groomed me to take over from the minute I stepped foot in that house. He liked that I was a thief.”
She smoothed her hand over his warm forearm, and he entwined his fingers with hers. “I’ve always been good about blending in, taking on roles because they amused me or by necessity. It was the same with Thompson. He was cold, cruel, and indifferent to my needs. The moment he kicked off, I liquidated everything down to the last nail. Gave half to charity and banked the other half. The only thing I kept was some property.”
He stopped speaking and Emma slipped her arms around him and they sat in silence. It was a long, long
time before Emma could ease her hold. Her heart was crushed by the memories that flooded her and the empathy she felt for Derrick. They did have that in common.
Rubbing the back of his neck, she turned her face against his. “If things had been different, you wouldn’t have turned out to be this amazing guy that you are.”
His chest expanded sharply; then he hugged her so hard she couldn’t breathe, and she hugged him back. She’d like to think that, in this moment, he didn’t feel alone.
Letting down barriers took a lot of courage. She wasn’t sure she had the same kind of courage he did.
Back in the room, Derrick booted up his tablet and they pored over information about Caliche, the cartels in power there. When it got late, they curled up together and fell back to sleep in each other’s arms.
It felt so natural. So right. So real.
But Emma never took anything for granted. They still had a job to do, their budding relationship aside. Sleeping with him was something she couldn’t seem to resist. But was she ready to release her secrets?
Only time would tell.
Chapter Ten
Derrick woke at dawn with Emma tucked into the curve of his body, his arm secure around her waist, her breath warm against his neck.
His eyes drifted shut, loving the feel of waking up with her in his arms. He couldn’t have had more than three hours’ sleep, but he was feeling surprisingly rested. They had ended up talking into the night—not about his childhood or what had happened to him afterward, things he was still holding back because he didn’t want to…scare her off.
But now it was morning, and the sun was coming up. Softly rubbing her arm, Derrick shifted and looked at the clock. Deciding it was too risky to stay this way any longer, he lifted his arm and eased away from her. As soon as he moved, Emma rolled over on her stomach. Smiling down at her, he pulled the sheet up to cover her.
They were going to have company soon, and it was time to resume the pursuit of her nephew now that they had fully recovered from the desert. He was under no illusions that going to Caliche, their base of operations to comb the Los Equis infested area and find Matthew, would give them any sense of safety. They were going to the devil’s door, and Derrick was ready for any kind of hell he unleashed. He was getting Emma’s Matty back.
He leaned down and kissed her temple. Letting go last night, about who he was and where he’d come from, might have been his way of warning her that he had baggage. He wasn’t sure where this relationship was going. After all, they’d been thrown together here and he was still reeling at his feelings for Emma. Even now he’d rather slip back into bed with her and make love to her again instead of facing reality.
But he’d never shirked his responsibilities, even when it came as a great personal sacrifice for him. She had gotten under his skin, but he was certain it would be better that they kept on their game faces when in public, especially with these agents sent by the Mexican government.
They needed to remain professional.
He went into the bathroom, taking a hot shower. As he came out of the steamy interior into the room with nothing but a towel around his hips, there was a knock at the door. He walked over and opened it.
Two men stood there. He didn’t react, giving nothing away. One of them was older, with gray hair, bushy brows and a wide mouth. His dark eyes were warm and open. The other one was young, handsome, had the kind of looks that would turn women’s heads. He on the other hand had a cocky look about him that Derrick recognized immediately. Macho.
The older man reached out his hand. “Agent Gunn, I’m Inspector Jorge Reyes and this is my colleague—”
“Agent Santiago Velasco,” he said with a wide, sharp smile. His grip was harder than it needed to be. Derrick didn’t react to the guy setting up some boundaries.
“Nice to meet you. Sorry it has to be under these conditions.”
“Where is Ms. St. John? We did text that we were coming,” Agent Velasco said, his voice full of his interest in Emma. Derrick didn’t like it, but he didn’t react.
“She’s in her room, and I’ll notify her you’re here.” Derrick lied smoothly. “Let me get dressed and Ms. St. John and I will meet you downstairs for breakfast.”
“Our flight isn’t for several hours, so that will be fine,” Inspector Reyes said.
Without waiting for an answer, he closed the door. Turning, he found Emma sitting up in bed, the sheet pressed to her breasts, looking mussed and tantalizing.
“I missed the text,” she said sheepishly. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. I covered.”
She frowned. “Covered?”
“I think we should be quiet about…us. This.”
“Oh, why?”
“It’s more professional, Emma.” He wasn’t ready to fully deal with his relationship with Emma, let alone anyone else who might scrutinize it.
“Is that it, or is it your need for secrecy taking over here? We don’t have to be overt, but I don’t see a need to cover up anything.”
That caught him off guard, and he was rarely ever blindsided. He took a step toward the bed, frustrated and annoyed and turned on and…a whole lot of complicated things he didn’t want to be. Why was she being so contrary when he was also working to protect her reputation, her privacy? “It’s none of their business.”
She gave him her best steely-eyed glare, something he realized a PI had likely perfected as a matter of survival. “Is this a problem with NCIS?”
“No, I’m not crossing any professional lines by getting involved with you.” He wasn’t. It was his own ingrained principles that were in question here. He couldn’t shake it, feeling raw after telling her something so personal. “Morally, it’s iffy.”
“Morally?”
At her strident tone, he wondered what kind of nerve he just hit. “You’ve had a serious shock with your sister in the hospital and your nephew taken by a cartel, Emma. That makes you more vulnerable than you would be in normal circumstances.” He was more irritated with himself than with the conversation and her reaction.
She rose up, her eyes narrowing. “As in you taking advantage of me in my weakened state?”
“No, that’s not what I meant.”
“Maybe you should just be quiet,” she bit out and threw the sheet aside. “We don’t have time for this conversation. Fine. Mum’s the word.” She brushed past him and went into the bathroom and closed the door. Somehow, he’d gotten her back up, and he wasn’t exactly sure how he’d done that. Normally, he read people like an open book, but with Emma, the pages seemed to be blurred. He spent the time she was in the shower packing up his suitcase and checking out of the room.
When she came out of the bathroom, she dressed and packed her bag; her tight shoulders and expression didn’t invite him to continue the conversation. He had to agree. They didn’t have time to go into this now.
When she was ready, he followed her out of the room. Down in the lobby, she headed toward the dining room. When he spotted the two Mexican officials, he went to steer Emma in that direction, but she shook off his attention. Smiling, she greeted both men. Agent Velasco’s eyes lit up at the sight of her.
“Ms. St. John. My superior couldn’t say enough wonderful things about you. It’s a distinct pleasure meeting such a beautiful woman.”
Derrick gritted his teeth, but kept his emotions bottled up and safely under wraps. He was going to act neutral if it killed him. During the breakfast, Velasco flirted with Emma, but she was a master at engaging, but not encouraging.
A couple of hours later they were in the air heading to Caliche, an almost five-hour flight. Through the window, he watched the wispy clouds over the dark land below. It was better than watching Velasco talking to Emma, as he’d done almost nonstop since he’d commandeered the seat next to her.
Derrick couldn’t say anything about it. He’d wordlessly met her eyes and moved to the seat across the aisle. Reyes settled down next to him. He looked over at the animated Velasco
and shook his head.
“Such a ladies’ man,” he murmured, then he turned to Derrick. “Have you been to Mexico before, señor?”
Derrick had with The Company, but he smiled and said, “No, my first time.”
“You been with NCIS long?”
“Five years. How about you?” Velasco leaned in and Emma did this subtle block with her shoulder that put a slight smile on Derrick’s face and a frown on the younger man’s. She was something else. He couldn’t quite believe that he had told her anything about himself. It felt…alien, but good. He hadn’t told her everything. He was still getting used to this partner/lover thing.
“Oh, came up in the ranks. I guess you get to a certain age and survive, they give you a prestigious position.”
Derrick chuckled, eyeing Emma, who was smiling at something Velasco said. He’d never felt jealousy before. With Afsana it was more about pain, but with Emma, he was confident in her.
He wanted to shout, to startle the son of a bitch into giving up any hope, to tell him he would never touch Emma.
Every cell in his body echoed with the need. She ran through his blood, entered with his breath and would not leave him, no matter how much logic or common sense he used trying to bend the need to his will.
He turned toward the window and decided that it was best to ignore Velasco’s antics and focus on his plan of action when they landed in Caliche. Emma had it under control.
“Agent Gunn.” Velasco’s subdued voice reached him, and he turned to find him standing in the aisle. “The lovely Emma has requested you sit with her. She wants to discuss something with you.”
Derrick rose, keeping his face neutral. He slid past Reyes and moved away so Velasco could slide into his vacated seat. He sat down next to Emma and she turned to look at him. Her snapping eyes told him she was still in a snit, but all he could do was smile. He’d take facing a pissed off Emma any day over her sitting next to that hormone laden guy.
