Hoodwinked (14 page)

“Come here, little one,” he said softly. “Let it happen.”

She trembled as his lean hands gently brought her over him. She felt her whole body clench at the feel of warm muscle and abrasive hair tickling her soft skin, but she gave in without a single protest.

He brought her mouth to his and kissed it as he never had before, with tenderness and aching warmth. His hands smoothed over her, drawing her between his hard-muscled thighs, into an embrace that was shocking and sweet and all of heaven.

“Oh, yes,” he breathed huskily. His hands went to the base of her spine and held her against him in total intimacy while his hard mouth brushed with maddening leisure at hers.

Her own hands had moved shyly to frame his face and she kissed him back with the same hunger she could feel rippling through his large body.

He eased her onto her back and looked down into her eyes while he touched her, lingering on her small, firm breasts and flat belly. Then his breathing deepened as he began to touch her with infinite care, and she caught his wrist and gasped.

“You're going to belong to me in a very few minutes,” he whispered gently. “I have to know how careful I need to be with you. Just relax.” She did, shivering as he kissed her and probed gently. “I won't have to hurt you very much,” he whispered.

Her eyes opened as his mouth moved down onto her breasts and made her writhe with the sweetest kind of sensual torment. She moaned and bit her lip to stifle the sound.

In the back of her mind there was a last virginal fear of what lay ahead, and a nervousness about being like this with him out in the open. But no one would come, she thought dizzily, and they were totally secluded from the view of any neighbors…

He kissed her lazily as his hips began to move sinuously, his legs tangling with hers, moving against hers in a way that made her body sing with pleasure. She moaned again, because he was using not only his mouth but his whole body—his hands, his legs, his hips—as instruments of pleasure, playing her with consummate skill.

One big hand slid under her head, cradling it, and his eyes looked straight into hers when he moved with a slow purpose that her innocence recognized with faint fear.

“Lie still,” he whispered. “I'll be very, very careful.”

Her lips pressed together hard and then she gasped softly and winced.

“Just another few seconds, little one,” he whispered. His hand tightened under her head. “Don't fight it…Yes!”

She swallowed and breathed quickly, feeling her body absorb him with shock and wonder. Her eyes
widened. Her dreams of intimacy hadn't been this staggering. He seemed to know, because his hands and his mouth were slow and tender as he drew her into the soft rhythm with him.

“I'm not…protected,” she managed, as the first shock of pleasure began to lift her.

“I know,” he breathed. His teeth caught her lower lip and tugged at it gently. His mouth moved against hers, parting her lips. “I want a child,” he ground out.

She felt the world going wild with color behind her tightly closed eyelids. Sounds penetrated. Fierce whispers. Rough, rhythmic breathing. The faint cries torn from her throat as the new and staggering pleasure began to build in her and around her. She saw waves of red in her mind, swirling, going faster and faster. Above her, Jake's face was like stone, rigid with building passion. His hands caught hers and locked them to the ground above her head while his muscular body moved with growing fierceness, his weight forcing her deeper into the grass.

She cried out his name suddenly and then she began to sob, because the great surging waves were breaking in her body, crashing, crashing…!

He bit off a word that she barely heard and stiffened even as his breath released and he sank against her with her name torn from him.

She was aware of the weight of him, of the dampness of her body and his, of beads of sweat running down her face. Of exhaustion and such exquisite pleasure, still clinging to her like her damp hair.

His mouth brushed tenderly against her ear, her throat. “We make music together,” he murmured. “The sound of two souls joining in ecstasy…”

Her hands touched his face and her eyes opened into his. “I love you,” she whispered tiredly.

“I know,” he whispered back. The wonder of it was in his eyes, in his smile. He bent and kissed her swollen lips warmly. “Now you have to marry me,” he said softly. “You've compromised me. A man has to protect his reputation. I can't have women pointing fingers at me and whispering behind my back that I'm easy.”

She laughed with pure delight and hugged him close, burying her face in his damp throat. “I'd marry you right now if I could.”

“Monday,” he suggested. “We'll have a blood test and get a license…”

“I'll have to ask permission at work to get off.”

“No, you won't.” He kissed her again, hungrily. His blood began to race all over again. He lifted his head and the teasing vanished. “Let's go and bathe each other. Then I want you in a bed, slowly this time.”

She shivered at the mental pictures he was painting. “Again?”

“Yes.” He lifted himself away from her and got to his feet, magnificent in his masculinity. He reached down and pulled her up with him. Then, lifting her tenderly, his eyes adoring her, he carried her not into her apartment, but into his, and closed the door.

They slept finally, but it was long after midnight. She woke the next morning with a new soreness in her muscles and vivid memories of the afternoon and night before. She could hardly sit up she was so shaky. Her eyes lit on a bit of paper on the pillow and a black scrawl across it.

“It's all right if you get to work late,” Jake had written. “Your boss won't mind. I'll see you after the test flight. Meet me in MacFaber's office. Jake.”

She smiled, holding the bit of paper to her lips. Her eye caught something on the back and she turned it over. What was written there made her breath catch.

“If you aren't pregnant this morning, it isn't my fault.”

She laughed. So he had meant it. It hadn't been a statement made in passion or to get under her guard. She stretched and went to look in the mirror, to see if she looked any different. She didn't, except for some passion marks in odd places on her creamy body. She flushed and went to borrow his dressing gown to go back to her own apartment and dress for work.

She'd always thought that her conscience would beat her to death if she slept with a man she wasn't married to. But Jake wanted to marry her. And she loved him, even if he hadn't been forthcoming about his own feelings. He couldn't have been so tender with her if he didn't love her—could he?

They were going to be married in just three days and he wanted children with her. Everything would be all right. She'd be Mrs. Jake Edwards.

She hugged that thought to her bosom and rushed inside to dress, casting a rueful glance at the blanket still on the lawn where they'd made love for the first time. She went and grabbed up the blanket, his towel and her bikini, and took them inside.

The flight test was already under way when she got to the plant. They'd brought the Faber jet here to the main administrative offices for its second test flight, and the grandstand was full of visiting dignitaries. Somewhere in that gathering, she knew, was the
evasive Mr. MacFaber himself. She wondered if he was holding his breath while the plane was put through its paces, and she held her own breath from her vantage point just outside her office.

If anything went wrong this time, the world would end for some of the employees. She could imagine MacFaber with a battle-ax, slamming down the halls on both sides and splitting heads. She didn't see Mr. Blake, her own boss, and she wondered where he was. Perhaps he was down with the visiting dignitaries.

“How's it going?” Charlene asked breathlessly, standing just beside her.

“So far, so good.” Maureen crossed her fingers.

“You look all springlike and breezy today.” Charlene grinned, approving the green dress and long, loose hairdo. “You're absolutely radiant.”

Maureen smiled. “I'm head over heels in love with one of the mechanics,” she confessed. “We're going to get married!”

“One of the mechanics?”

“He's a very nice man and I don't mind living on hamburgers and chips,” she assured her friend.

“Is that how I sounded? I didn't mean to.” Charlene smiled sweetly. “It's just that one of the mechanics is out on his ear and Mr. Blake's in a lot of trouble. MacFaber was in his office this morning and he called Mr. Blake in. I wasn't eavesdropping, you know, but the office door was open a crack…”

“Well, tell me!”

“Mr. Blake's brother-in-law took it on himself to ignore a design change. He worked in the plant where the Faber jet was assembled.” She grimaced. “Mr. Blake finally had to tell MacFaber before something
terrible happened. He's been demoted and his brother-in-law has been fired.”

“My gosh,” Maureen gasped with mingled sorrow for Mr. Blake and relief that Jake wasn't responsible for the problem. “No wonder Mr. Blake looked so worried.” That brought to mind her own situation. “Well, who am I working for now?” she asked. “Have I still got a job?”

“Sure. But you won't know who you're working for until MacFaber hires somebody to replace Mr. Blake.”

“Have you actually seen MacFaber?” she teased. “I mean, he isn't a figment or anything?”

“Have I seen him!” Charlene looked upward and made a whistling sound. “My gosh, if I weren't an engaged woman!”

“But you said he was old and ugly.” Maureen frowned.

“The last time I saw him, he looked that way. But he's slimmed down and tanned, and at least one of the girls in the typing pool swooned when he walked by. God help the female employees, and I'll bet the lady in South America is crying her eyes out!”

“He sounds fascinating,” Maureen said, grinning.

“He is fascinating, except for his temper,” the other girl said ruefully. “You can hear him two offices away when he loses it, and he doesn't mind who listens. He's got quite a vocabulary when he gets started.”

“It's his corporation,” Maureen pointed out. “I guess he was pretty upset about what happened to the Faber jet.”

“He wasn't just upset at Mr. Blake's brother-in-law,” Charlene murmured. “He was furious at the
whole quality-control unit, the design unit, the assembly plant, and assorted other people.”

Maureen's eyebrows rose. “Such as?”

“Such as the people who mow the lawn here, the painters who did his office, the carpet layers, two total strangers who happened to walk past his office, and the president.”

“My goodness. Were they all responsible for his jet's problems?”

“To hear him tell it, they were. Look!”

She pointed skyward, where the small private-jet prototype was moving like silver grace, sleek and smart and completely in the control of its expert pilot.

“Well, well—” Maureen sighed “—I do believe we have a winner.”

“It looks that way,” Charlene said, smiling her relief. “Thank God. Maybe this will calm the old man down.”

“Is he old?”

“Oh, late thirties, I guess.”

“Did you see the detective?” Maureen asked suddenly.

“Yes, indeed, I did.” She sighed. “Talk about being overwhelmed with handsome men. He's tall and dark and very, very sexy. I got goose bumps when he spoke to me. Of course, I am an engaged woman,” she added seriously.

“But you can still look,” Maureen said, smiling.

“That's exactly right. Why do you want to know what the private detective looks like?”

Maureen didn't say. She couldn't very well tell Charlene that she thought she was going to marry him. It wasn't a certain thing yet that Jake was the undercover detective, but she had definite suspicions
about it. She smiled to herself as she shook her head at Charlene's question and turned her eyes skyward. It would be exciting, being the wife of a detective. She might even get to help him on a case now and then. The thought brightened her whole day.

Charlene left just after the jet was beginning its descent. Maureen watched the silver bird land and sighed over its grace and beauty. Thank God it had worked this time.

She went back inside, hoping that her job wasn't going to be on the line now that Mr. Blake had been demoted. She had a sudden terrifying thought that Mr. MacFaber might blame her, too. He might think Blake had confided in her and feel that she was in the wrong for not contacting someone about it.

There was little for her to do in her office. Jake had told her to meet him in MacFaber's office, but she hesitated. Everyone would be out at the field with the dignitaries, congratulating each other on the flight. Wouldn't Jake be with MacFaber?

She tidied up, her heart shaking her. After last night, she had a few qualms about being able to look Jake in the eye without blushing. But she was, she reminded herself, twenty-five years old this week, and a capable woman. Then she wondered how she was going to explain her presence in MacFaber's office. Surely if MacFaber came in, she could tell him she was waiting for his detective. He wouldn't eat her, after all.

After freshening her makeup, she ran a brush through her long, loose hair and started out of the office just as the phone rang.

She cursed the interruption, because it was a question about some specs that she had to pull out of
the computer. It took a long time and she was flustered and nervous and late when she finished and took the computer off-line.

She rushed out the door before anyone else could stop her, down the long hall that led to MacFaber's office. Some of the dignitaries were coming along now, looking pleased and in great spirits. One of the visitors was tall and very good-looking. He glanced at Maureen and inclined his head, but without showing any particular interest.