Hot Licks (5 page)

Too bad her parents instilled proper manners in all their kids.

She stopped the gentle sway and scooted over. “It’s your swing.”

“Actually,” Rome folded himself on the cushion, placing his body close enough the scent of clean male, all spicy and fresh, rose up to tease her senses. “It’s my mom’s.”

Gwen didn’t answer, too busy trying to slow her racing heart. Mistaking her silence, Rome turned his head to look at her profile. “You’re not still mad about earlier, are you?”

“You mean when you flattened me in the mud? Nah.

Happens all the time.”

Rome heaved out a breath at her sarcastic response.

“I really am sorry. I wasn’t thinking properly.”

When he didn’t elaborate, she cocked her head inquisitively. “Because you were running on no sleep?”

Rome bit the side of his cheek. “You could say that.”

“And what would you say?”

“That I overreacted to a situation. Anyway. When I saw you out here I wanted to make sure you were okay. I didn’t hurt you or anything, did I?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “I’m fine. You’re the one that took the brunt of the fall since it was your back we landed on. Before you rolled on top of me.”

Oh shut up!
She barely restrained from slapping a hand over her mouth for bringing up something that sounded a bit too sexual for her sanity. She pushed the swing in motion again.

“If it makes you feel any better, Santos and Porter haven’t stopped giving me crap over it.”

Gwen stiffened slightly and turned to look at Rome, her brows lowered in confusion. “Santos? But only Porter was there.”

Rome blinked, then his lips curled at the edges. “Yes, but he couldn’t wait to tell tales.”

“Ah.” Gwen glued her eyes forward. The swing was in a kind of alcove, secluded with tall hedges at the back, huge, flowering rose bushes in the front and a wide canopy covering the top. Combine that with the dark of the night and her attraction to Rome, she was finding his masculine presence more than a little tempting. She actually had to grip the material of her top at the sides where she’d planted her hands to keep them to herself.

“Do you ever take it down?”

At his quiet question, she once again turned to look at him, only to find his face inches from hers. She sucked in a rush of air. “What?”

“Your hair.” He reached out and wrapped his fingers gently around her braid, running his hand along the thick length. She swore she could feel the stroke in other, more intimate places and squeezed her thighs together. “It’s so long and thick.”

The husky whisper brought to mind a vastly different long and thick body part that
she
wanted to run her hand over.

“And straight, plain black.” She managed to say without betraying the tremor of need rippling along her flesh. “Other than cutting it all off, it’s the best way to keep it out of my way.”

The hand around her braid tightened briefly before the soft strokes resumed. “I hope you don’t ever cut it. And it’s a beautiful color. Not plain at all. Black as midnight.” Her eyes were held captive by the glint of heat in his. “I like midnight. When the clamor of the day softens to a seductive tone. Where dreams and passions come alive.”

Her throat went bone dry. Holy hell. He was seducing her. And she could feel herself falling for it. Wanted to fall for it.

Son of employers. Son of employers. Post traumatic
stress. Menace to society. Son of employers.

The mental chant wasn’t enough to break the spell he wove, her blood kindling with desire, her breath becoming choppy as his head descended.

“What are you doing out here?” She blurted out her earlier question before his lips could touch hers.

Idiot
, her inner voice screamed.

Self-preservation
, she glowered back.

Rome inched his head back on a soft sigh of defeat, though he didn’t remove his hand which was now cupping the nape of her neck. Caressing fingers left trails of heat as he continued to stroke the sensitive flesh.

He didn’t say anything for several moments. Just looked at her with eyes that seemed to glow with a yellowish-green cast that held her mesmerized.

Must be the moonlight
, she thought.

This time it was Rome who pushed the swing into a gentle sway. “We’re going to secure the cabin. Put in cameras, like you suggested, and sensors at the door. But my man can’t get out here until Monday. So until then,” one brow lifted and Gwen saw anticipation light his face. “We hunt.” “Hunt?”

“Watch. Wait. Look out for the bad guys.” His grin was wicked.

Her eyes went wide. “You’re going back out there?

Tonight? Hoping the perpetrators come back? Are you insane?”

His own eyes went flat, his expression hard. “We protect what’s ours.”

Gwen got that. She really did. But still. “What did the police say?”

He gave her braid a tug. “Install cameras. Honestly, there’s not much they can do except file a report and ask some questions. Oh. And the camera thing? It’s not for public knowledge. In fact, keep it to yourself. The less people who know, the less likely it is to get out.”

Something about his tone made her frown. “You’re not suggesting it’s someone affiliated with the Orchards, are you?” One powerful shoulder lifted. “Just trying to keep the information contained.”

In other words, it was a possibility. “But that’s crazy. It could be anyone. And if you didn’t want anyone to know, why did you tell me. Heck, I could be the digger.”

The corners of his eyes creased with his smile. “No, you most definitely are not.”

Truly curious, she asked, “And how do you know?”

Another quick tug of her braid and he pushed to his feet. “Oh. I know.” Then he turned on his heel and headed north, toward the reserve.

“Wait,” Gwen called out, the urgency no less diminished despite her lowered voice. “Aren’t you even going to take one of the jeeps to the gate? A flashlight?

Anything.” She hadn’t seen one on him.

“And warn anyone that might be out there? No.

Besides.” His eyes deliberating shifted down to her chest for a moment before lifting, paralyzing her with a wink full of male appreciation. “I see perfectly well in the dark.” Then he turned and the night swallowed him whole.

Gwen dropped her chin to peer at her chest, only to see that when she’d crossed her arms, she’d pulled the material of her top taut, stretching decorative white swirls over her breasts. Not only were her nipples hard, she could make out the faint dark rose of her areolas.

Face flushing a deep red, Gwen pressed her hands to her cheeks.

Could a day be any more embarrassing?

Several buildings were scattered throughout the
section of the property called the Orchards. Above the barn
was an apartment Porter lived in, preferring some
semblance of privacy amid the pandemonium of the estate.

Same with Santos, only he resided in a relatively new twostory
house situated about a quarter mile to the northwest
of the main one.

One section of the huge building to the northeast
housed all the equipment needed for the processing of the
olives into olive oil, while another section squeezed
oranges into orange juice. A third, smaller, section
contained several offices, including the one shared by
Gwen, James and Dennis. While their job kept them mainly
outdoors, they still needed a place to track hours, report
problems, note down repairs or areas of maintenance,
update any changes in plant and animal life and soil
conditions, schedule hikes, store their gear and everything
else that came with the position.

Gwen always left paperwork for rainy days.

Unfortunately, more rain was in the future and she was not
looking forward to reducing the piles of paper residing on
the desks. She and James had culled it down earlier this
week, but it never did seem to disappear completely.

Now, with a hip propped against the larger of the two
desks squeezed into the room, Gwen peered down at the
lamented checklist. Though each ranger knew it by heart,
one forgotten item could bring serious trouble, so she
dutifully scanned everything in her backpack against the list.

She was also waiting on Dennis, who was late. A
glance at the wall showed the time at seven-fifty. With a
frown, she reached for the phone. The hike was planned for
eight-fifteen and required two guides at all times for several
reasons, the least of which was another body to drive the
second jeep out to the gate.

In the middle of punching out a number on her cell,
Gwen heard whistling coming from the hallway. Thinking it
was Dennis, as the rest of the employees had the
weekends off, she hung up the phone and tried to wipe the
impatience off her face. The kid, though not really a kid at
twenty-three, wasn’t normally late. In his last year of college,
specializing in forestry, working at the Orchards was a
boon to his resume and not something he would
jeopardize. No doubt he had a good excuse and Gwen
needed to tamp down her irritation at his tardiness.

Besides, if she was honest with herself, her cranky
mood owed more to her restless sleep than anything else.

Long after she’d gone to bed she’d thought about Rome
and how he was faring all alone, in the dark, way out at the
cabin on the reserve. She’d even thought about going out
there to keep him company. A brief idea she’d killed as
soon as it popped up. Then when she did finally slip into
sleep, it was to vivid dreams of what might have happened
on that swing if she hadn’t stopped him from kissing her.

Now she was suffering the aftermath of an early alarm
interruption at the most critical moment. With her skin
feeling too warm and tight and the ache low in her belly, she
could admit to herself that she should have taken those
extra couple of minutes in the shower to alleviate the
problem. But she’d thought her arousal would dissipate as
the day wore on.

She squirmed, squeezing her thighs together for the
hundredth time since waking. Yeah. That didn’t seem to be
happening.

The whistling stopped and she looked up at Dennis
with an inquisitive glance. Only it wasn’t Dennis that stood
in the doorway. It was Rome.

“Good morning.” His dark eyes were lit with male
approval as he took in her legs, bared by the khaki shorts
she wore, and the loosely tucked in dark blue logo shirt that
hinted at the full curves of her breasts.

The sight of him caused her stomach to clench in
shear want, followed by embarrassment – the man had
seen her nearly naked breasts last night after all! She
covered it with a surprised, “Good morning. What are you
doing out here?”

Rome slanted her a wry grin. “That’s the third time
you’ve asked me that question since we’ve met.” Crossing
his arms, he leaned a heavily muscled shoulder against the
door frame. “I think I’m getting a complex.”

Gwen flushed. The estate did belong to his family and
he had every right to be wherever he wanted, whenever he
wanted. Except her bedroom of course, which made her
flush even more as she recalled her dreams.

Agitated, she shifted away to rummage through her
backpack, blindly checking the contents for the third time.

“Sorry. I just thought you’d still be in bed. Ah. Sleeping. In
bed. After yesterday I mean. And last night. The guarding
thing, I mean.”

Lord, just shoot me,
she thought unhappily. What was it about this man that made every word that came out of her mouth sound like and innuendo?

“I caught a few hours after Porter relieved me.”

“Oh. That’s good.” And what she wouldn’t give for Melinda’s gift of gab right now. But after seeing those lips of his curl in a sensual smile, Gwen longed for another oral activity.

With a hard, internal shake of her head, she cleared out a few of the cobwebs spun by his nearness. “Just out and about, seeing what’s new?”

“Actually, I came looking for you.”

She stiffened, a little nervous at what he might wish to seek her out about. “Oh? Well you’ll need to give me a few minutes. I’ve got a hike to finish getting ready for and find myself one man short.”

“That’s why I’m here.” When she raised her head back up to look at him, he explained. “That Dennis kid showed up looking like something the cat dragged in.”

Alarm shot through her. “What happened?”

“Said he didn’t sleep well. Might be coming down with a cold.”

Gwen narrowed her eyes at Rome’s dubious tone. “But you don’t believe him?”

“The knuckles on his right hand are swollen and cut, and the way he held an arm to his torso makes me think he was on the receiving end of a few gut jabs. Nothing too serious, but enough to make him hurt.” Rome’s nose winkled in distaste. “He also smelled of alcohol.”

“He was drunk?” She’d kill the miscreant.

A sharp shake of Rome’s head. “No. More likely he partied too hard last night, got into a fight, passed out, and woke with barely enough time to roll out of bed and drive to work. Dad saw him and sent him straight home.”

“Shit.” Gwen slumped against the desk. “That doesn’t sound like Dennis. I wonder what happened.” She shook her head. “Well, anyway, I need to talk with Andreas and find out if I can use Porter or Santos as my second.”

“All ready taken care of.”

That didn’t bode well. “And?”

“I’m all yours.”

That’s what she was afraid of. Her attraction to him was already too intense, as if some irresistible link had been forged between them from the moment he’d touched her. Knowing herself, spending more time in his company would result in one of two things. Either she would find herself irritated by little things he did or said and her interest would die a quick death, or she’d be even more drawn to him. She had a sinking feeling it would be the latter, which meant keeping her thoughts and actions on a professional level could prove difficult.

Pursing her lips, she looked him over. Ogled him actually. All in the name of professionalism of course. While his boots were serviceable, his jeans slung temptingly low and the brown T-shirt that clung to his torso would have to go. If he planned to play park ranger for the Orchards he had to wear one of their shirts.

Anticipation at seeing what lay under that taut material licked at her veins as she swiveled to one of the two metal cabinets in the office. “You’ll need a different shirt. To distinguish yourself as an employee. What size?” When he told her, she rifled through the small stack, making a mental note to order more shirts. She found an extra-large and turned to toss it to him, and nearly swallowed her tongue.

While she knew he’d have to take off his shirt to pull on the new one, seeing his bare chest without any warning was enough to stop her in her tracks. Strong, wide shoulders topped pecs that were hard and flat, leading to a droolworthy set of six-pack abs she could bounce a quarter off. Far from a detraction, the scars that marred his flesh only reinforced what he was, a warrior. He’d suffered horrible pain and trauma and lived to tell the tale. A light spattering of dark hair trailed down to almost nothing before increasing slightly where the top of his jeans hung below his navel. And the way he filled out the fly of those jeans? Her mind went completely blank.

Muscles flexed as he raised an arm to catch the shirt she had yet to toss him. “Gwen?” Though he wiggled his fingers to get her attention, it was the tiny curling at the corner of his lips that had her finally throwing the top. Damn man knew the sight of his naked chest made her lose a few brain cells and was pleased in that smug way men get. It made her wish for a brick to throw at his head instead.

Purposely turning her back on all that yummy male flesh once again, she crossed to the second metal cabinet and unlocked it. “You know how to use a shotgun?”

When only silence met her question, she glanced over her shoulder, to see him staring at her butt.

“Rome.” Her tone was an order.

When he tore his gaze away from her backside, it was with an unrepentant look, full of predatory heat that sent warmth spreading through her veins. “You have the most delectable ass I’ve ever seen.”

That ass clenched at the husky comment. “Uh.

Thanks.” She had to get them back on topic before she said something she’d regret. Like “do me”. Especially since she was once again blindsided by the hard masculinity of the chest he had yet to cover.

She repeated the question, hoping he didn’t notice her elevated breathing. “Do you know how to use a shotgun?”

Rome arched a dark brow. “ATF. Military.”

“You could have been a paper pusher for all I know.”

Yeah, right.

“I can handle any weapon made.” The fact no arrogance colored his words made Gwen believe his statement. It was as impressive as it was femininely arousing.

Good Lord. Was that drool gathering at the corners of her mouth? She licked her lips. “Then I’ll lead while you’ll bring up the rear with the gun.”

Rome glanced from her damp lips to her eyes with a frown. “Expecting trouble?”

“No. Not really. It’s just a precaution.” She laid the weapon across the desk, muzzle toward the wall. “Though the others think I’m crazy, I know I saw a jaguar a couple months back. Like I said, it’s just a precaution.”

Gwen could see the tension in Rome’s body, his face turning impassive. “You plan on shooting it?”

“No! Of course not!” She barely refrained from slamming the pouch full of ammo down next to the gun in outrage. “They’re tranqs just in case he gets too close. I don’t plan to kill or capture him, Rome. Just make him sleepy so we can get safely out. Jags are as dangerous as they are breathtakingly gorgeous. Did you know that though it’s the third largest feline after the lion and tiger, its bite has twice the strength of a lion’s? Almost two thousand pounds of pressure between its jaws. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want ones mouth anywhere near me.”

His chin dropped to his chest, but not before she saw the twitching of his lips. “So noted.”

Not knowing what she’d said to amuse him, Gwen gnawed on her bottom lip and turned back to lock the cabinets. “We need to get going or we’ll be late.”

He shifted farther into the room and from her peripheral, she saw him unbuckle his belt, the sight making her fingers fumble with the keys. When he only slipped the ammo pouch along the length of leather, she closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the cool metal, struggling to gain control of her senses.

“Are you all right?”

Gwen gasped, flipping around to find Rome right behind her. “I-I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

He raised a hand to cup the side of her face, his thumb a gentle caress on her cheekbone. “You have bruises under your eyes. Nightmares?”

Not even close. “No. Just didn’t sleep well.”

Rome edged closer, resting one forearm against the metal door next to her head. His incredible scent made her slightly dizzy, his heat causing the ache in her belly to spread to lower places. When his thumb moved to trace her bottom lip, she trembled. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“I’m pretty sure I can help you sleep,
bella
.”

Gwen knew enough Spanish to know Rome was

calling her beautiful. Or it could be Italian. His father was Hispanic, his mother English-Italian and the combined genes made for some very fine offspring. One of which was currently melting Gwen’s insides. She would be a puddle of goo in another minute if she didn’t stop this.

Attempting to halt his seduction, she got distracted for a moment when her hands met the hard wall of his bare chest. Her fingertips curled into the solid strength of muscles. “That’s not a good idea, Rome.”