Circle of Danger (24 page)

She ducked into the women's restroom at the airport and called reservations. The Marquis happened to be her favorite hotel, and they had room. When she stepped out, her gaze zeroed on Joe, leaning against the wall nearby; his eyes drank in every inch of her. Oh, yes, he was exactly what she needed.

They shared a cab, laughing and talking all the way to the hotel's check-in counter. As they walked toward the elevators, he mentioned wanting to visit one of the restaurants below street level. She smiled.

They would never make it. Though she detested strangers brushing up against her, she didn't mind using one to release her tension, to forget what her job entailed. Her body using his throughout the night until he fell exhausted from her demands. And she had many demands.

Oh, yeah, a beautiful thing about being a phantom in the world of assassins, at the end of a mission she could enjoy a little downtime with a good-looking man. No one in the world knew what she did except her handler and Theo. She'd always been careful.

Leaning against the glass wall of the elevator, she stared as the lobby became smaller. A few more years and she'd kill Theo and disappear.

One corner of her mouth lifted as she looked from beneath her eyelashes at the man next to her. “I'll be waiting for you at seven-thirty.” She felt like the spider waiting for the fly.

T
he knock came at seven-thirty on the dot. She liked how his amber eyes flared when she opened the door and waited with one hand on her hip. Her deep sigh brought that burning gaze to her breasts.

She'd dressed—better yet, undressed—specifically to push all thought of food from his mind. The lace-and-mesh deep ruby nightgown brought out the red highlights in her hair that flowed down her shoulders and made her skin appear a creamier white. Her full breasts tested the strength of the well-placed lace. Masterfully applied makeup emphasized the green of her eyes and the fullness of her dark red lips. Her bare toes peeked out beneath the edge of the gown and a fragile tinkle rang from her anklets, drawing his attention to her long, long legs as the slit at the side opened and closed with her every movement. She knew how to rein in a man's interest.

“I like a woman who knows her mind,” he said in a low voice. His lips lifted, allowing only a flash of white teeth.

She stepped back and without hesitation he walked in.

“And I like a man who knows what he wants.” She closed the door and leaned against it. With deft fingers, she locked it with a double click behind her.

“So no dinner.” One dark eyebrow lifted.

“A man who picks up on the subtleties.”

His body grazed hers as he moved closer and looked down, a grin flitted across his lips. “You look beautiful,” he murmured. “Damn, you smell good.” He inhaled, his eyes half closing as he brushed his thumb across her bottom lip. “You feel good too. Smooth, soft, hot.”

Though she enjoyed being called beautiful, she knew better. Makeup and clothes could hide many defects and she was an expert at it. Yet she appreciated a man who would lie to get what he wanted, especially when she had done the same.

“For you. Hot for you.” Her eyelids heavy, she leaned toward him.

He slid his hands down her arms. His gaze travelled a burning trail across her breasts. “Luscious.”

“What a sweet talker.” Her nimble fingers pulled at his tie and worked the knot loose until she had the silk material in her hand and tossed it over her shoulder. Then she started on his shirt.

His hand clasped her wrists before the second button made it through the hole.

“Wait,” he said softly.

Her shoulders drooped. She wanted to forget about what she did today. Hell, to forget what she did for a living just for a few hours, to immerse all her thoughts in a hard male body. She took a deep sigh, causing her breasts to lift high enough to catch his attention again and remind him of what waited. Did he really want to chitchat? Patience wasn't one of her virtues.

She hoped to survive her nine a.m. meeting with Theo tomorrow and still go on assignment. And that could be anywhere, maybe Denver as she'd been originally scheduled, or even somewhere on the other side of the world, far, far away from Theo. What a lovely thought.

Anyway, the memories she made tonight would help her live through the time she spent with Theo or at the least make them bearable. She puckered her lips and looked up at him beneath her eyelashes, pretending to pout.

His heated look confirmed it worked.

“I have to taste you,” he whispered, his lips brushed her cheek.

“Yes, sir,” she teased. Before she could raise her face, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her to his mouth. His tongue thrust against hers, tasting, stroking until her fingers dug into his back.

Whoa! The man knew how to kiss.

He lifted his head.

She liked how he tasted of whiskey and male heat. She wanted more. She tried to push him away but he grabbed her arms.

Who did he think he was? She preferred to be the one in control. Before she could show him how she felt about his manhandling, his lips fanned small bursts of hot air against hers as he said, “I couldn't resist a sample. I wanted to see if you're as spicy as you look.”

Her skin heated and stretched so tight she thought she would burst from need. The man did have a way with words.

“And?” She rubbed her breasts against his hard chest.

“Another taste. Just once more.” His mouth covered hers. He sucked in her bottom lip, and then his tongue dove into her mouth, taking what she offered, taking all he wanted. Whenever she tried to meet his tongue with her own, he thrust harder, opening her mouth wider, dominating the kiss and her response, showing her what he liked and giving her an idea of what else he expected from her. He decided on the rhythm of their kiss and she was surprised by how much she enjoyed letting him have the lead. Her body softened as he took her breath away.

His fingers gripped her butt and pressed his groin to hers. She leaned into him, letting him hold her weight, letting him have control. For a little bit.

Yet his kisses weren't enough. She wanted to see and touch every inch of him. Despite how wonderful his mouth felt against hers, she pinched his hard abdomen. Not enough to hurt. Just to draw his attention away from the kiss for a second.

“Bed?” she suggested with hope in her voice.

Her libido was on overdrive, and his kisses had been like gasoline on a smoking fire. That was her excuse for letting him get away with caveman tactics so far. She always liked being in control, but there was something about the way he held her, kissed her, touched her, made her want more. He dropped one wrist and held the other, leading her deeper into the room and toward the bed. She followed, taking in his broad shoulders and the way his hair met the back of his neck.

Happy that he was finally getting down to what she wanted, she purred.

She stepped in front of him and reached for his shirt. “Let's take some of your clothes off. You're overdressed in my opinion.” She wanted to see what was hidden beneath his expensive suit.

Without a jacket, would his shoulders be as broad? Would he have defined muscles? Exotic tattoos? Scars? How far down did his tan go? How big and hard was he? She rubbed a hip against his groin. Oh, yes, he was hard. Men were easy to manipulate when sex was involved. And she was grateful.

He stopped in the middle of the room and looked at her. His face turned brooding as his eyes darkened and searched hers. The hot kisser from a few seconds ago had vanished. She wasn't sure what he was looking for, but she shivered in excitement. She liked being the center of his attention. The businessman had disappeared, and in his place was a dangerous and lethal man. Danger proved to be the strongest aphrodisiac. She knew that for a fact. He looked ready to throw her on the floor and fuck her to death.

Death by sex? Now that would be the way to go. Lust slapped her libido into higher gear. She stepped back to recover her breath. At the same time, he clutched a handful of material at her shoulder and with a flick of his wrist tore the gown in two.

She gasped. “You son of a bitch!”

Chill bumps popped along her arms and across her chest. She wanted to believe the tingling was from the cool room. She knew better. She liked it rough, only that gown was her favorite and an original. With a fluid turn, she brought her leg up and he caught it, stopping her dead. Uncertain of what he was up to, she knew she needed to think fast, as only an expert in martial arts could stop her kick. Going with the momentum of her leg, she twisted her body midair and brought him down with her.

Instead of knocking him out or at least dazing him, he smoothly flipped her onto her back and seized her wrists, pulling them above her head. She kicked and bucked, trying to loosen his hold as he dragged her onto the bed. His knee jabbed her stomach, and she lost her breath. Before she could recover, something cold and hard clicked around her wrists. Handcuffs? He'd handcuffed her?

She blinked. “What the hell?”

“Shhh, Olivia. It will be over quick,” he whispered in her ear.

With his knee still in her stomach, he held her cuffed wrists with one hand while the other unbuckled his belt.

“No you don't, asshole. There's no way I'll let that happen now,” she said in a steady, angry voice. At the moment with her hands useless and his body pinning her down, her words were all hot air, but she wasn't about to give up.

He chuckled.

Heat flooded her cheeks. He actually thought she was funny. She bit the inside of her mouth. He may control her body, but she needed to rein in her emotions. She needed to think clearly about the situation and a way out.

“Un-cuff me,” she demanded.

He placed a finger on her lips and shook his head. “Don't raise your voice. I would hate it if you forced me to neutralize any unwelcome visitors.”

She would never endanger an innocent, no matter what he thought. Too many variables could go wrong. First rule she learned in The Circle was You're on Your Own. Second rule, Protect the Innocent. She would handle this man and anything he dished out.

Wait. What did he say? Neutralize? Well, crap! No regular Joe off the streets talked like that. She needed out of this jam.

She peeked at the door.

And she would find a way to escape.

Whatever he did was nothing compared to what Theo could do to her.

Normally, she could protect herself as she had enough experience to keep the upper hand. But this guy was different from the others she'd picked up for sex. His toned body appeared to come from more than regular gym push-ups or daily runs. Few men could stop her like he had. Well, damn, she'd picked on the wrong one this time. Her recklessness had finally caught up with her, all because she wanted him so much. His soft voice and perfect manners had misled her.

She tilted her head and watched as he fastened the handcuffs to the bed frame with his belt. No hesitation. As if he did it every day. He shook her arms to test the hold. She was as good as stuck until he unlocked them or she found a way out. He acted as if she was merely a job. Was she?

“Who are you?” she asked.

He ignored her as his gaze travelled a heated path to her chest. He straddled her thighs, keeping her legs flat on the bed by using his weight. His hands rested on her collarbone for a second and then skimmed down, dipping and massaging areas as if he was searching or maybe testing for something. When his hands cupped her heaving breasts and squeezed, she groaned, hating how good his touch felt. Unable to resist, she arched her back, wanting more of his firm touch.

He dragged his callused palms over her sensitive nipples before slipping down her waist; taking his time as his eyes savored every inch of skin, his fingers continued with their examination.

He was examining her!

Was he looking for a locator maybe? Only another operative would think to look for one. The Circle embedded the device beneath the skin of those considered unpredictable. Luckily, she'd been deemed trustworthy, a small benefit from being Theo's former mistress. Then again, she never understood how they could use that as a gauge, considering how much she hated him.

An operative? Well, that explained a lot.

He lingered a moment at her hips, brushing his fingers across her shaved mons and then continued to her knees as he slid down and resting his weight on her feet. Her body bowed, trying to stay in contact with those strong, rough hands.

“Damn you. I don't have a locator on me.”

Why not tell him the truth? He would realize it soon enough. But then again his hot gaze tempted her to lie and suggest a certain wet place to look.

She'd never been as turned on in her life. He moved onto the bed and jerked her legs apart, and she gasped. Open and wet, she throbbed in answer to his stare.

She kicked and he quickly clasped her ankles. His gaze returned to her mons. She wanted to tell him to go to hell, yet his hungry look sent heat skimming over her body. She liked his attention.

“And you would never lie to me,” he quietly said.

She ignored his sarcasm. Deep inside her sex-hungry brain, his hands had slowed during the examination and wandered into areas less likely to hide a tracking device. The change told her he was rethinking his strategy. He wanted her despite his original intentions.

His fingers dipped and traced where she'd hoped he would venture. They retraced their path, returning to her breasts to pinch the tips. She gasped again. The electrifying tweak brought a flood of moistness between her legs. His fascination in her body was appreciated by her own. She couldn't catch her breath, and she didn't want him to stop.

“Obviously you're a man who won't take my word for it.” Unable to catch her breath, the words emerged nearly indistinguishable.

The handcuffs rattled and began to cut into her wrists. For heaven's sakes, they weren't even fur lined. He needed to learn no one treated her this way, even if it did turn her on. In the end, if she lived, he would learn not to mess with her in this way. She would stake
his
life on that fact.