Her Kind of Hero (15 page)

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Authors: Diana Palmer

BOOK: Her Kind of Hero
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“Have you got the infrareds on you?”

Rodrigo nodded and pulled out what looked like a fancy pair of binoculars.

“Check the area off the beach for Lopez's yacht.”

“It's clear for miles right now. No heat signatures.”

“Heat signatures?” Callie murmured.

“We have heat-seeking technology,” Micah explained. “We can look right into a house or a room in the dark and see everything alive in it, right through the walls.”

“You're kidding!” she exclaimed.

“He's not,” Rodrigo said, his dark eyes narrowing as he noted the gown and the pretty form underneath.

Micah knew what the other man was seeing, and it angered him. He stepped in front of Callie, and the action was blatant enough to get Rodrigo moving.

“Where do you think Lopez's yacht is?” Callie asked.

“It'll be somewhere close around. Let's just hope the man Peter caught was too rattled to call Lopez while he was being
shot at. I'm sure he had a cell phone. Get out my diving gear and some C-4. And don't say a word to Bojo. Got that? It will work.”

“What will work?” Callie asked.

“Never mind,” Micah said. “Thanks, Rodrigo. I'm going to get Callie back inside.”

“I'll deal with our guest,” Rodrigo said, and turned at once to his chore.

Micah drew Callie along with him, from the patio to the sliding glass doors her assailant had forced, and down the hall to her bedroom. On the way, he noticed that two other doors had been opened, as if her captor had looked in them in search of her. His bedroom was closer to the front of the house.

He drew her inside her room and closed the door behind them, pausing to lay the automatic on a table nearby. “Did he hurt you?” he asked at once.

“He dropped me on the patio. I bruised my hip…Micah, no!” she exclaimed, pushing at the big, lean hand that was pulling up her nylon gown.

“I've seen more of you than this,” he reminded her.

“But…”

He swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, easing her down gently onto the sheet where the covers had been thrown back by her captor. He sat down beside her and pulled up the gown, smiling gently at the pale pink cotton briefs she was wearing.

“Just what I'd expect,” he murmured. “Functional, not sexy.”

“Nobody sees my underthings except me,” she bit off. “Will you stop?”

He pushed the gown up to her waist, ignoring her protests,
and winced when he saw her upper thigh and hip. “You're going to have a whopper of a bruise on your leg,” he murmured, drawing down the elastic of the briefs. “Your hip didn't fare much better.”

His thumb was against the soft, warm skin of her lower stomach and the other one was poised beside her head on the pillow while he looked at her bruises. She didn't think he was doing it on purpose, but that thumb seemed to be moving back and forth in a very arousing way. Her body liked it. She moved restlessly on the sheet, shivering a little with unexpected pleasure.

“A few bruises are…are better than being kidnapped,” she whispered shakily. Her wide eyes met his. “I was so scared, Micah!”

His hand spread on her hip. His narrow black eyes met hers. “So was I, when I heard you shouting,” he said huskily. “He almost had you!”

“Almost,” she agreed, her breath jerking out. “I'm still shaking.”

His fingers contracted. “I'm going to give you a sedative,” he said, rising abruptly. “You need to sleep. You never will, in this condition.”

He left her there and went to get his medical kit. He was back almost at once. He opened the bag and drew out a small vial of liquid and a prepackaged hypodermic syringe. This would alleviate her fear of being alone tonight and give him time to get his rampaging hormones under control.

She watched him fill the syringe effortlessly. It was a reminder that he'd studied medicine.

“Have you ever thought of going back to finish your residency?” she asked him.

He shook his head. “Too tame.” He smiled in her general direction as he finished filling the syringe. “I don't think I could live without adrenaline rushes.”

“Doctors have those, too,” she pointed out, watching him extend her arm and tap a vein in the curve of her elbow. “You're going to put it in there?” she asked worriedly.

“It's quicker. You won't get addicted to this,” he added, because she looked apprehensive. “Close your eyes. I'll try not to hurt you.”

She did close her eyes, but she felt the tiny prick of the needle and winced. But it was over quickly and he was dabbing her arm with alcohol on a cotton ball.

“It won't knock you out completely,” he said when he'd replaced everything in the kit. “But it will relax you.”

She blinked. She felt
very
relaxed. She peered up at him with wide, soft eyes. “I wish you liked me,” she said.

His eyebrows levered up. “I do.”

“Not really. You don't want me around. I'm not pretty like her.”

“Her?”

“Lisse.” She sighed and stretched lazily, one leg rising so that the gown fell away from her pretty leg, leaving it bare. “She's really beautiful, and she has nice, big breasts. Mine are just tiny, and I'm so ordinary. Gosh, I'd love to have long blond hair and big breasts.”

He glanced at the bag and back at her. “This stuff works on you like truth serum, doesn't it?” he murmured huskily.

She sat up with a misty smile and shrugged the gown off, so that it fell to her waist. Her breasts had hard little tips that aroused him the instant he saw them. “See?” she asked. “They look like acorns. Hers look like cantaloupes.”

He couldn't help himself. He stared at her breasts helplessly, while his body began to swell with an urgency that made him shiver. He was vulnerable tonight.

“Yours are beautiful,” he said softly, his eyes helplessly tracing them.

“No, they're not. You don't even like feeling them against you. You went all stiff and pushed me away, out on the patio. It's been like that since…Micah, what are you…doing?” she gasped as his hungry mouth abruptly settled right on top of a hard nipple and began to suckle it. “Oh…glory!” she cried out, arching toward him with a lack of restraint that was even more arousing. Her nails bit into his scalp through his thick hair, coaxing him even closer. “I like that. I…really like that!” she whispered frantically. “I like it, I like it, I…!”

“I should be shot for this,” he uttered as he suckled her. “But I want you. Oh God, I want you so!” His teeth opened and nipped her helplessly.

She drew back suddenly, apprehensively as she felt his teeth, her eyes questioning.

He could barely breathe, and he knew there was no way on earth he was going to be able to stop. It was already too late. Danger was an aphrodisiac. “You don't like my teeth on you,” he whispered. “All right. It's all right. We'll try this.”

His fingers traced around her pert breast gently and he bent to take her mouth tenderly under his lips. She had no willpower. She opened her lips for him and clung as he eased her down onto the cool sheets.

“Don't let me do this, Callie,” he ground out in a last grab at sanity, even as he shed his boxer shorts. “Tell me to stop!”

“I couldn't, not if it meant my life,” she murmured, her body
on fire for him. Her mind wasn't even working. She held on for dear life and pulled his mouth down harder on hers. She was shivering with pleasure. “I want you to do it,” she whispered brazenly. “I want to feel you naked in my arms. I want to make love…!”

“Callie. Sweet baby!” he whispered hoarsely as he felt her hands searching down his flat belly to the source of his anguish. She touched him and he was lost, totally lost. He pressed her hard into the mattress while his mouth devoured hers. It was too late to pull back, too late to reason with her. She was drugged and uninhibited, and her hands were touching him in a way that pushed him right over the edge.

Callie lifted against him, aware of his nudity and the delight of touching him where she'd never have dreamed of touching him if she hadn't been drugged. But she'd always wanted to touch him like that, and it felt wonderful. Her body moved restlessly with little darts of pleasure as he began to discover her, too.

She enjoyed the feel of his body, the touch of his hands. Her skin felt very hot, and when she realized that the gown and her underwear were gone, it didn't matter, because she felt much more comfortable. Then he started touching her in a way she'd never been touched. She gasped. Her body tensed, but she moved toward his hand, burying her face in his neck as the delicious sensations made her pulse with delight. His skin was damp and very hot. She could hear the rasp of his breathing, she could feel it in her hair as he began to caress her very intimately.

Of course, it was wrong to let him do something so outrageous, but it felt too good to stop. She kept coaxing him with
sharp little movements of her hips until he was touching her where her body wanted him to. Now the pleasure was stark and urgent. She opened her legs. Her nails bit into his nape and she clung fiercely.

“It's all right,” he whispered huskily. “I won't stop. I'll be good to you.”

She clung closer. Her body shivered. She was suddenly open to his insistent exploration and with embarrassment she felt herself becoming very damp where his fingers were. She stiffened.

“It's natural,” he breathed into her ear. “Your body is supposed to do this.”

“It is?” She couldn't look at him. “It isn't repulsive to you?”

“It's the most exciting thing I've ever felt,” he whispered. His powerful body shifted so that he was lying directly over her, his hair-roughened legs lazily brushing against hers while he teased her mouth with his lips and her body with his fingers.

Her arms were curled around his neck and the sensations were so sweet that she began to gasp rhythmically. Her hips were lifting and falling with that same rhythm as she fed on the delicious little jabs of pleasure that accompanied every sensual movement.

He began to shudder, too. It was almost as if he weren't in control of himself. But that was ridiculous. Micah was always in control.

His teeth tugged at her upper lip and then at her lower one, his tongue sliding sinuously inside her mouth in slow, teasing thrusts. She felt her breasts going very tight. He was lying against her in an unexpectedly intimate way. She felt body hair against her breasts and her belly. Then she felt him there,
there,
in a contact that she'd never dreamed of sharing with him.

Despite her languor, her eyes opened and looked straight into his. She could actually see the desire that was riding him, there in his taut face and glittering eyes and flattened lips. He was shivering. She liked seeing him that way. She smiled lazily and deliberately brushed her body up against him. He groaned.

Slowly he lifted himself just a little. “Lookdown,” he whispered huskily. “Look at me. I want you to see how aroused I am for you.”

Her eyes traced the path of thick, curling blond-tipped hair from the wedge on his muscular chest, down his flat belly, and to another wedge…heavens! He had nothing on. And more than that, he was…he was…

Her misty gaze shot back up to meet his. She should be protesting. He was so aroused that a maiden lady with silver hair couldn't have mistaken it. She felt suddenly very small and vulnerable, almost fragile. But he wanted her, and she wanted him so badly that she couldn't find a single word of protest. Even if he never touched her again, she'd have this one time to live on for the rest of her miserable, lonely life. She'd be his lover, if only this once. Nothing else mattered. Nothing!

Her body lifted to brush helplessly against his while she looked at him. She was afraid. She was excited. She was on fire. She was wanton…

His hand went between their hips and began to invade her body, where it was most sensitive. Despite the pleasure that ensued, she felt a tiny stab of discomfort.

“I can feel it,” he whispered, his eyes darkening as his body went taut. “It's wispy, like a spiderweb.” He shifted sensuously. His body began to invade hers in a slow, teasing motion, and he watched her the whole time. “Are you going to let me break it, Callie?” he whispered softly.

“Break…it?”

“Your maidenhead. I want it.” He moved his hips down and his whole face clenched as he felt the veil of her innocence begin to separate. His hands clenched beside her head on the pillow and the eyes that looked down into hers were tortured. His whole body shuddered with each slow movement of his hips. “I want…you! Callie!” he groaned hoarsely, his eyes closing. “Callie…baby…let me have you,” he whispered jerkily. “Let me have…all of you! Let me teach you pleasure…”

He seemed to be in pain. She couldn't bear that. She slid her calves slowly over his and gasped when she felt his body tenderly penetrating hers with the action, bringing a tiny wave of pleasure. She gasped again.

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