BULLETPROOF BRIDE (29 page)

She breathlessly explored the smooth skin of his back, luxuriating in the strong muscles bunching under her palms. Her hands slid over the rough denim waistband of his jeans and cupped his buttocks, as hard and fit as the rest of him. "I want to see you, too."

"Aye-aye, ma'am. Your wish is my command." He levered upright. Kneeling above her in the flickering firelight, his hair tousled, his chest gleaming, his eyes dark with desire, he embodied pure male magnificence. One leisurely hand unsnapped his jeans. Slowly, ever so slowly, he worked open the zipper to reveal a lean, tanned abdomen and black briefs. He eased the denim over his hips, tossing the jeans to one side. A sensual smile flirted at the corners of his lips as he hooked his thumbs into his briefs. One teasing inch at a time, he tugged them down. The briefs joined his jeans on the rug.

She looked at the naked man smiling down at her. He was incredible. Beautifully tanned, ridged muscles, flat abdomen, sculpted male perfection, gloriously aroused. With desire for her. Her mouth went dry.

"Well?" His smiled widened. "Do I pass inspection?"

A moment ticked by, then another before she found her voice. "You're beautiful." She rose on her knees so they were face to face. She touched the fine whiskers on his cheek, traced his sensual lips. Unable to resist, she trailed her fingers down his neck to his hard shoulders and across his wide, satiny chest. His nipples hardened under her questing fingertips and he groaned.

Encouraged by his reaction, she leaned forward and licked. The smooth nub beaded under her tongue. His abdominal muscles clenched and the scorching length of him jerked against her stomach.

"Damn." He groaned again.

Realization of her feminine power flooded her in a heady rush as she kissed his hot skin, felt it ripple and jump beneath her lips. His breath rasped raggedly as she explored his other nipple. Intoxicated by his ready response, by his warm, unique male scent, she moved lower, kissing her way down his flat stomach.

"Sorry, sweetheart." He grasped her shoulders to draw her up eye level with him. "You've got to slow down, or you'll be left high and dry wondering what all the hoopla is about." He gently cupped her face in his big hands and captured her mouth with his.

She lost herself in the erotic wonder of his kiss. His fingers glided through her hair. He trailed his fingertips over her shoulders, stroked down her back, and then cupped her bottom. When she opened her eyes again, she was laying on the rug with his welcome weight covering her.

"
Mmm
. Your lips taste so sweet." He nuzzled her neck. "There's something I've been wondering." He moved lower, licking and teasing her sensitized nipples. His lips meandered a delicious, leisurely path to her ribs.

"What?" she managed to moan.

He nuzzled her navel with his nose, kissing her belly. "If the rest of you tastes as good," he whispered. Then he moved lower and his mouth closed over her in the most shocking kiss of all.

"Oh!"
She gasped at the intimacy, the searing connection that arced between them. A ribbon of heat streamed through her, coiling into a sweet ache. Her hips rocked upward. Seeking an anchor, she thrust her fingers into his hair. He slid his hands under her bottom and lifted, intensifying the glorious sensation. She clenched her teeth to keep from screaming at the bold strokes of his tongue. Tension thrummed inside her, twisting into a tight spiral. Then unbelievably, wound tighter, and tighter yet. Her head thrashed from side to side as her body quivered, straining toward completion. A whimper escaped.

He raised his head, leaving her aching and unfulfilled, and lowered her to the rug. He kissed a return path up her body to her lips. She moaned into his mouth in taut desperation. "Please don't stop."

"I won't," he soothed as his hand glided down her stomach. He gently caressed an exquisitely sensitive spot. "I want to see your pleasure."

Pleasure, oh, yes. Pleasure surged, arched her against his palm. Panting, she closed her eyes as aching tension spiraled again.

One long finger slid inside of her. "You're killing my self-control here." He groaned.

She gathered the scattered fringes of her concentration enough to gasp out, "Sorry."

His soft chuckle feathered his warm breath across her lips. "Nothing to apologize for, sweetheart." Another finger joined the first, filling her with exquisite pressure, while at the same time his thumb steadily stroked her toward a mounting crescendo.

Fire blazed inside her, burning outward, scorching every nerve ending. Her heart galloped wildly, and her body went rigid. Throbbing need clenched deep inside, her inner muscles involuntarily contracting.

"Go with it, Tessie. Let it happen."

Shaking uncontrollably, she teetered on the brink of the chasm, clinging to the edge. She was afraid of the unknown. She was afraid of her intense feelings, both physical and emotional. She was afraid she'd fall and shatter into a thousand pieces. "No! It's too much!"

"Look at me," Gabe commanded.

She opened her eyes. Her panicked gaze clung to his, the smoky green depths inches from her own.

"It's okay. Jump, baby," he soothed. "I'll catch you."

Her fear vanished in a warm wave of trust and love. Holding his gaze—her lifeline—she let go. Instead of falling, she soared. Tremor after tremor of ecstasy exploded inside her, and her body rocked with sweet release. She flew higher and higher, to the starry edges of the universe and into the fiery sun.

Then she floated to earth, gasping and trembling.

A long, shuddering sigh slipped out of her as he gently withdrew his hand. His mouth curled into a slow smile of male satisfaction. Caressing her face, he cuddled her close until her trembling stopped. "Okay?" he asked, his voice roughened by passion, his tone tender.

Awed, she stared into his glowing eyes. This was as close to Heaven as she'd ever been. Her heart overflowed. The words welled up inside and spilled out. "I love you," she murmured.

Stunned shock, then fear slashed across his face. He recoiled as if she'd slapped him. Flat darkness killed the light in his eyes. His jaw clenched in a hard line as he wrenched away and snatched up his jeans. Jumping to his feet, he yanked them on. "For how long?"

Caught in an emotional hurricane, she shoved her own pain aside and narrowed her focus to the wounded man who needed her. "What do you mean? I'm not going anywhere."

He bowed his head. "I can't be what you want. Eventually, you'll leave."

"I want you, Gabe. Nothing more." She sat up. "I won't leave you, I promise."

"Your love is wasted on me." His raw, ragged voice was so low she could hardly hear.

Seeing Gabe stripped of his confidence, painfully vulnerable, caused a stinging ache in her throat. But in order to help him, she had to make him face the truth. She scrambled to her feet. "The adventurer, the adrenaline junkie, will risk his neck without a second thought. But he's afraid to risk his heart?"

He raised his head. The anguish in his eyes burned to her soul. "You don't understand."

"I'm here for you," she said gently. "Help me understand."

He raked his fingers through his hair. His throat worked. "You don't understand." Each word wrenched out of him. "I … can't … give you … enough."

Even after everything they'd been through, all they'd shared, he was afraid to trust her. She stepped toward him, hands outstretched. "I understand far more than you think. Talk to me. Trust me."

Were those tears glittering in his eyes? "I don't know how." He strode across the room, jerked open the door. The raging storm burst inside, the cold blast making the fire tremble wildly.

Her heart breaking, she blurted out a desperate, last-ditch challenge. "You can run away from me, but unless you face your fears head-on you'll never be able to escape them."

Gabe couldn't bear to hear her say it. He flung himself across the threshold. Not fast enough. She shouted after him, "Under all the bravado, you're scared!"

He hurtled outside, slamming the door on Tessa's words just like he'd slammed the door on her love. His chest heaving, he lifted his face, exposed and unprotected to the storm's brutal fury. Icy rain pelted him. Soaked and shivering, he let the stinging drops pummel his face, his bare torso. But the rain couldn't wash away the facts. He
was
scared.

Scared? Hell, he was terrified. His hands knotted into fists as he strode down the driveway. His stride lengthened, then he broke into a run.

He ran until his lungs burned and his side ached. He ran until his muscles screamed for mercy. But he gave none. He didn't deserve mercy. Punishing himself, he pushed his body to the breaking point.

Tessa was right. No matter how far or how fast he ran, he couldn't outrun the truth.

She loved him. And God help him, he loved her, too.

How the hell had it happened? How had she breached his defenses, defenses that were so firmly in place, he usually didn't have to try to maintain them? He'd thought his heart was barricaded behind an insurmountable wall. Thought it was safe. His deepest, most primal instincts had recognized the truth the instant he walked into the bank, but he'd managed to cling to denial. Until now.

The day he'd kidnapped Tessa, she'd captured his heart.

But if this woman walked out on him, he wouldn't survive. She'd annihilate him. Destroy him once and for all.

He just couldn't take that chance.

Chapter 17

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T
he storm had blown out hours ago, but clouds hung heavy and dark, merely changing the horizon to menacing gray with the dawn. Tessa peered out the window into the gloom, anxiously seeking any sign of Gabe. He'd been gone all night. Alone and hurting.

He'd return. His responsibility would force him to finish the case. Her stomach clenched. Knowing the master of emotional retreat, he'd probably dump her in a safe house at the first opportunity. But she'd fight him every inch. She would see this through to the bitter end. She trudged to the kitchen. Somehow, she'd get through to him. Somehow, she'd convince him to trust her. Somehow, she'd convince him that needing her wasn't a weakness.

After coffee and a shower, she dressed in black slacks and a cream sweater. Gathering her curls into a pearl clip, she wandered into the living room, and jerked to an abrupt stop.

Gabe had just walked in the front door. Wearing only jeans, he was soaked and shivering, his skin blue with cold. His torn feet oozed blood onto the carpet. He looked at her, his face shuttered. His taut, drawn features and flat gaze confirmed her worst fears. He'd shut her out. He'd closed himself off and locked away his soul.

Her heart aching, Tessa's throat tightened with unshed tears. She'd pushed him too far, too fast. And lost him. "You look like you need a hot shower, strong coffee, and breakfast." The effort to keep her tone casual cost every ounce of strength she possessed.

"Leo call?" he asked hoarsely.

"No."

He thrust his fingers through his wet hair as he brushed past her. The bathroom door slammed behind him. The shower kicked on with a hiss.

Her knees collapsed, and she sank to the sofa. She stared at the bloody footprints on the ivory carpet. He'd built a wall of ice between them, and she didn't know how to break through. Struggling for control, she sucked in deep breaths as she stumbled to the kitchen to make breakfast.

He's threatened, scared, and he's put up his defense shield. Give him time and space.

When he exited the bathroom ten minutes later, she'd herded her emotions into line. She turned down the heat under the scrambled eggs. "Breakfast will be ready in five," she called.

He strode into the kitchen wearing clean jeans and a black T-shirt, his hair still damp, feet bare. The sight of his bruised, torn feet nearly unraveled her, and she swallowed hard. "There's toast and juice, too." Again, it took every iota of self-discipline she owned, but her voice emerged level.

They ate in strained silence. He wolfed his food, but every bite stuck in her throat. They'd just finished when his phone chirped. He snatched it up and sprinted to his room.

Acid roiled in her stomach. To keep busy, she stacked the dishes in the dishwasher.

Five minutes crawled by before he returned. Stocking-footed, he carried his sneakers in one hand, a gun and a deadly looking notched knife in the other. He dropped the weapons on the sofa, sat, and shoved his feet into the shoes. The rough movements had to hurt, but he didn't seem to notice. "Time to go to work."

"Leo," she croaked. "Where are you meeting him?"

He didn't even look up. "That's on a need-to-know basis."

Ah, the warrior was charging into battle and the first order of business was to stash the lovesick woman safely out of the way. If she wasn't so worried, she'd smack him upside the head. "What if you need help?"

Gabe stood, shoved the gun in his waistband, then sheathed the knife at his ankle. He shrugged on his black leather jacket. "If you don't hear from me in two hours, call the number I gave you before. Say the package was damaged in transit. The routing invoice is fifty-one, twelve dash thirty-three. They'll know I'm in trouble and my location." He stalked to the front door.