Deception of the Heart (12 page)

‘Agreed
.’ He found that he enjoyed his food more than usual. Normally, he’d just eat whatever was available, the simple motions of chewing, swallowing, and satisfying his hunger little more than sheer necessity. He’d grown bitter over the years, he supposed. Watching people hunger and barely survive in the refugee camps he had visited made him question his right to actually enjoy food. So in response, he acted on autopilot, like with so many other facets of his life. He ate to survive, it was as simple as that. As long as it was edible, he didn’t really care for flavor or presentation.

Until now.
Watching Melanie eat her pizza with almost palpable pleasure woke something deep inside him, something that had been dormant for years. He wanted to savor the moment, still surprised by the intensity of his emotions. He wanted to experience the pure, unspoiled sense of satisfaction he read in her face. For once in his life, he wanted to give himself the permission to actually be happy without thinking about what would happen next. He didn’t even care that the reason for this sudden revelation was as simple and laughably prosaic as a slice of a pizza eaten in the hazy heat of an Italian afternoon.

He opened the bottle of mineral water they had purchased with the pizza. He
’d wanted to get wine for Melanie, even though his driving made it impossible for him to join her. To his surprise, she had absolutely refused to be the only one enjoying vino, suggesting instead a simple mineral water sold at the same restaurant.

‘That was great
.’ He looked down at her, his lips stretching into a smile when he saw a tiny smudge of tomato sauce marking one of her pale cheeks. She reached for a vanilla wafer that came with the meal, nibbling on the flaky, pale golden disk with almost palpable pleasure.

H
e reached out, too tempted to resist the urge to touch her. His fingertip brushed against the soft skin of her cheek, and the silky texture made him reluctant to stop. ‘Hold still,’ he commanded, his fingers lingering against her skin. ‘Tomato sauce,’ he explained, his voice hoarse and alien to his own ears.

He wanted to kiss
her so badly. He felt his blood drumming in his temples in a wild, primitive rhythm that started somewhere deep inside him, in the very core of his being. Fighting against this urge was doomed to fail from the start. He felt her lean into his palm, probably unaware of the invitation in that simple, slight gesture. If she’d made it obvious she didn’t want his touch, he’d be safe. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt such intense need for anything, let alone a woman who very likely stood on the other side of the trenches.

As it was, she didn’t make it any easier on him. Instead of being reasonable, she looked up into his face from under her long eyelashes, her soft brown eyes mysterious and utterly desirable.

‘Thanks,’ she murmured, swallowing convulsively. The skin of her cheek made all the nerve endings in his fingertips blossom to life. How could one little word carry so much promise?

‘No problem
.’ He nodded, leaning closer. He could hear someone laughing not far off, the neatly paved path that lead into the park barely hidden from their eyes by the jasmine bushes. People were walking around, strolling, picnicking, enjoying their time in the sun. Most of them were tourists, just like them. Still, he didn’t care if the whole world came to watch. He decided to forget everything else for this one glorious moment and do exactly what he wanted with no thoughts about consequences and the future. Time for atonement would come later.

Her lips tasted just as sweet as
he’d imagined. He thought he could taste the vanilla before his brain suddenly crashed, all thinking impossible. Instead he could only feel, his mouth tracing the softness of her lips with the unhurried thoroughness of a blind man. His arms pulled her closer, too impatient to wait any longer. She fit perfectly, the softness of her gently rounded curves molding effortlessly against his hard frame. As if she was made just for him, and he reveled in the sense of rightness of it all. Made just to be in his arms, every inch of her skin a map of some uncharted promised land he needed to discover. His fingers traced the lines of her jaw and dropped lower, brushing against her neck and pausing in the warm hollow where her neck joined her shoulders. He felt her blood pulsing underneath his fingertips, the fierce staccato betraying her arousal better than words ever could. She kissed him back, her mouth opening and coaxing him deeper in a mute invitation he was only too eager to follow. Her palms came up to his shoulders, and her fingernails scraped gently against the skin of his arms.

He felt like
he was drowning, as if his whole being was breaking free from gravity and the reality of the world they lived in. Nothing mattered any longer. Not Pete, not Bernard, not even the thought of the horrible thing that was about to happen if he didn’t put a stop to it and soon. But could he really dismiss them all for the sake of his own private pleasure?

The ugly images of other attacks he
couldn’t prevent came to mind, pictures of carnage rising and refusing to be dismissed. Blood, bodies, and misery came back to haunt him as he tried desperately to cling to his happiness, however fleeting it might be. For one second, he hated who he had become, what he knew, and what he had witnessed in his years with the agency. It had eaten away at him, slowly but irrevocably, taking a part of him he wished he still possessed. The part that was ignorant and happy, able to enjoy life and the pleasures it offered.

Anger woke up deep inside him, directed equally at himself and those who made
his work necessary. If the world was a slightly better place, the agency wouldn’t be needed in the first place. He didn’t feel happy anymore, the rope woven from his experiences tightening around him and making it hard to breathe.

With anger came passion, pure sexual desire that had nothing to do with tenderness or caring. Flames of need licked along his nerve endings, prompting him to take as much as she
would offer. His kiss changed, demanding more. Gentleness was replaced with fire, his hands almost rough as he pulled her even closer, muscle to muscle and bone to bone. Her breasts were crushed against his chest, their heavy fullness spurring him on. He let his hand travel down her soft curves, kneading and molding one round globe. It filled his palm, the firm flesh yielding to his fingertips.

S
he managed to wring her mouth away from his lips, and her voice husky with desire she wasn’t even trying to conceal when she said, ‘Wait, we have to stop…’

‘Why?’
he demanded, his hand still caressing her soft flesh. He didn’t want to stop. He was desperate to prolong this moment. Once they got back to reality, he’d have to think about what was happening. He didn’t want to think, not yet.

‘B
ecause it’s wrong.’ She gasped as his fingers found her hardened nipple and scraped against it, his movements slow and repetitive. ‘We don’t really know each other, Jon.’

‘W
e are just getting to that part,’ he murmured, refusing to let go. She enjoyed his touch. Even though her words were meant to discourage him, her body told an entirely different story. Every cell of his body recognized and reveled in her response.

‘No, I mean it
.’ She managed to detangle herself from him. The sense of emptiness and coldness that followed sobered him up faster than any words ever could. He wasn’t supposed to feel like that! Nobody should be able to make him feel so vulnerable, least of all a woman who could very well prove to be his enemy.

‘I don’t do things like that with men I barely know,’
Melanie continued. She was obviously unaware of the shift in his mood, which was a good thing since he didn’t particularly like her at the moment. Wanted her, yes and yes again, liked… probably not.

‘I am sorry
.’ He had to say something civil, if only to rebuild some of the easy companionship they’d shared in the last few hours. It was essential to the job at hand, he reminded himself, and he let his chagrined smile add weight to his apology. Maybe the Spitieris weren’t the only ones worthy of an Oscar. He moved away slightly, the space between them not enough to cool down his heated blood.

She smiled a shaky smile in response.
He needed to be patient. He would get her in the end, a coveted prize that came with a job he wasn’t too eager about taking on in the first place. He’d sate himself with her and silence the yearning in his heart that demanded her and only her. And then he’d walk away. It would be for the best, he told himself sternly. The best for him and the best for her, no matter if she proved to be guilty or innocent. If she was innocent, he’d walk away even faster. Nobody deserved to be tangled in his net of lies and misery. The bleak landscape that stretched ahead of him and his life was not something anyone should even consider sharing. They were both adults, for God’s sake. If she wanted him as much as he wanted her, who was there to stop them from taking what they wanted?

Don’t be a fool, his conscience whispered, refusing to be silenced. You’re lying to yourself just as much as you do to her.
It won’t be over, not by a long shot. If you make the mistake of throwing away caution and following your heart, it will be just the beginning. The beginning of the end…

So she’d behaved like a total idiot.

Melanie
glanced at the man at her side, hoping he wouldn’t notice her gaze. What on earth did she think she was doing when she let him kiss her and touch her the way nobody ever had, save for Lucas? She tried to blame the Italian sun and the drowsiness that took over her senses after the meal. Wasn’t it like the typical romance story from a movie? A single woman comes to Italy or another exotic spot and meets the man of her dreams, her femininity blossoming under his tutelage?

She looked away, flustered to discover what her body seemed to have known all along.
She had fallen for Jon, faster and harder than she would have ever imagined possible. How else could she explain the fact she felt as if she’d known him all her life? It wasn’t about his good looks either.

S
he let her gaze travel over his elegant features again, admiring his raven black hair and face that looked oddly at home here in Italy. With his straight, dark eyebrows, black eyes, and straight nose set over a masculine cut mouth, he fit perfectly into this land of beauty and art. Images of the Renaissance came to her mind. She could imagine him as a wealthy merchant or an artist’s patron. He had a certain sense of pride and accomplishment clinging to him like a second skin.

He was everything a woman could dream about,
and she was annoyed to find herself no different from all other females. Didn’t she always pride herself on thinking with her brain and keep her heart safely out of the way? Jon destroyed all that. One look from his dark, enigmatic eyes brought her back to that pathetic state of weakness she thought she’d left behind with Lucas and their life together.

‘
I think I should be at least a bit useful today,’ she said hesitantly, not sure how to get back to the safe zone. ‘I mean, Pete is busy and all, but I’ve got some paperwork I could do without him. Would you mind dropping me off at the hotel? He won’t be back for another two hours or so, but I imagine he’d appreciate coming back and seeing me working too.’ Hopefully that didn’t sound too panicky. She definitely didn’t want Jon to think she was any more affected by what happened than any other sophisticated, experienced woman. He certainly didn’t need to know she could still taste him on her lips.

‘No problem,’ he agreed easily
. His eyes were perfectly innocent as he smiled one of those heart stopping beautiful smiles. ‘Just give me directions, and I’ll get us there in no time. We wouldn’t want to annoy Pete, right? I hope to get some more time with you, as part of the ‘distracting’ deal, though.’

She shouldn’t feel so relieved, a sense of gladness taking over her whole body.
He hoped they’d go out again. That shouldn’t matter to her either way. In a few days, she’d be back in New York, and the memories of their short-lived tete-a-tete would fade into oblivion.

She
stayed lost in her thoughts, and Jon’s half-hearted attempts to keep the conversation going failed. They settled into a comfortable silence, interrupted only by the soft piano music he turned up after asking for her permission. Quiet and unobtrusive, the notes lingered in the air, the poignant melody cascading up and down in its seductive beauty. To her surprise, she recognized it as one of her favorite pieces, Chopin’s music both sad and beautiful.

They were almost there,
thanks to Jon’s skilled driving through afternoon traffic, when his cell phone rang. She waited for him to pick up, only to be disappointed.

‘I don’t use my phone while driving
.’ He must have noticed her surprise because he smiled, his dark eyes cheerful. ‘Whoever it is, they can wait a moment or two. Or leave me a message if it’s really urgent.’

As on cue, a short beep
indicated a message being delivered, and he grinned, ignoring it too.

‘W
ould you like to do something tomorrow?’ he asked her instead, turning to face her for a moment. ‘If I misbehaved today, I am really sorry.’

‘Y
ou didn’t,’ she answered, too fast and too eagerly. She could have bitten her tongue off as she watched him smile, a gesture so swift and understanding she couldn’t fool herself any longer. He knew how she felt, silly goose that she was!