Morgan's Wife (14 page)

"Come here," he rasped, stepping toward her and settling his hands on her shoulders.

Pepper's lips parted in surprise as she felt Jim's hands holding her. Shock turned to heat as she gazed wonderingly up into dark eyes that held her helplessly captive.
He was going to kiss her.
The thought was there, along with a rush of desire that made her move into his arms and lift her chin to meet his descending mouth. She had no time to analyze what was taking place, or why. She could only obey her heart, which cried out for closer contact with Jim, and personal consequences
be
damned.

As she felt herself enveloped in his powerful arms, her body coming to rest lightly against his as he drew her even more tightly against his hard, angular contours, a sigh of surrender broke from her. Pepper felt as if she were in a waking dream—a beautiful one filled with a raging desire that refused to be ignored. Her lashes swept downward, and she slid her arms around his neck, waiting. The instant his mouth captured hers in a demanding kiss, she responded with equal intensity. The heat of his mouth moving across hers, taking her, stamping her with his very male scent and taste, shattered every barrier she'd ever erected. His warm, uneven breath fell across her cheek as she opened her mouth even more to his deepening exploration. The slight prickle of his recently shaved face brushed hers. His hand moved upward, cupping her cheek, angling her mouth to an even more advantageous position, and she drowned in the splendor of his quest.

Lost in the molten power of his mouth, of his hard, straining body pressed to hers, Pepper felt a moan of pleasure coming from deep within her. A lightning heat swept through her, overriding her logical mind and connecting wildly with her heart—with a raw desire that was being born out of the fire of his searching, hungry kiss. Then, somewhere inside her, an alarm went off, a warning so primal that Pepper pulled away from the mouth that pleasured hers. That one movement broke the dream. Her eyes flew open. She felt Jim ease his grip on her, his eyes opening and focusing narrowly on her, like a predator gauging its quarry. Panic spread through Pepper.

"No…" she pleaded brokenly, placing her hands flat against his chest
. "
Oh, no…" The still-throbbing need within her belied the shattering knowledge that Jim should never have kissed her. She shouldn't have kissed him. As Pepper stumbled out of his embrace and gripped the back of a chair for support, she stared up at his stormy face, met the burning gaze that clearly said he wanted to claim her again. Her lips were still wet from his kiss. Her body ached to complete what she knew they both wanted. Shocked at how thoroughly her emotional barriers had been lowered, she touched her brow, confused. How could she have let this happen? She was as much at fault as Jim was. All he'd done was brush her fingers when he'd handed her the glass of wine. A small, grazing touch!

Shakily, Pepper stared at him in the building silence. His chest was heaving, his breathing ragged. His hands were drawn into fists at his sides. He looked as if he were fighting some inner demon to stop himself from moving the few feet to where she stood. The hunger in his eyes was unmistakable. And how badly she found herself wanting to walk right back into his arms!

"Pepper," Jim rasped, opening his hands, "I'm sorry…." And he was. Shaken by what had just occurred, he backed away. His heart was pounding in his chest. He felt the tightness of his body screaming for relief, screaming to complete what they'd started. The look in Pepper's eyes mingled fear, accusation and sultry desire. She'd liked the kiss as much as he had; he knew that. But her grip on the back of that chair spoke of the depth of her devastation. Jim's mouth tingled in the aftermath of their fiery sharing. He could taste her on his lips. He longed to taste her everywhere—and give her even more pleasure. As he studied her in the tense silence, he knew with every particle of his being that he had given her pleasure. The knowledge made his heart sing, lifting him in a sort of heady euphoria he'd never realized existed.

"I think," he began in a strained voice, "that almost dying this morning is still with me." He wanted to take full responsibility for the kiss, even though she'd come willingly into his arms. "I'm sorry, Pepper. Really sorry…"

Trembling inwardly, she nodded and pressed her hand against her breasts, fighting for control of her frayed emotions. "I—yes, I think it was that…." she answered shakily. After all, there had to be some reason she'd done something so foolish!

"If you'll excuse me?
I'll be back in a minute." Jim turned without waiting for her permission. If he didn't leave now, he feared he would walk right back over to her and take her. The vision of carrying her to his bedroom and making hot, hard love with her clamored in him. His leaving would break that damnable tension that seemed to stalk their interactions. And he'd take the opportunity to splash cold water on his face and get a grip on his unruly emotions.

When Jim had left the room, Pepper grabbed her glass from the counter and lowered herself to a chair. Her knees were shaking so badly she wanted to sit before she fell. In three gulps, she downed the wine. The alcohol took the edge off her frazzled emotions, soothing some of the shock out of her system, and Pepper was grateful to have time to pull herself together.

By the time Jim reappeared, nearly ten minutes later, he seemed back in control. No longer did she see undeniable hunger in his eyes. Instead, his mouth was an unhappy slash as he slowly walked to the sink and picked up his glass. Without a word, he drank the contents,
then
poured them both a second glass.

"I think," he began gruffly, "I owe you an apology for a lot of things regarding my behavior—"

"No," Pepper whispered. "It's all so crazy, Jim. I've had close calls before. I know what they do to me—to other people." She was blathering to cover her real feelings—her genuine need for him. It was totally inappropriate.
Insane.
"Stuff like this happens. Let's just chalk it up to the day, can we, and forget it?"

Working his mouth, Jim stared down at the wine in his glass. "Yeah—okay, you're right, of course."
Forget?
How the hell could he forget her warm, flowing response to his kiss? But she was right. Somehow, he had to put it behind him. Savagely, he reminded himself that Laura was the important one right now. At the thought of her, he felt his body shutting down, becoming less sensitized to Pepper's presence. Relief raced briefly through him.

Pepper took another gulp of wine. "It's already forgotten," she said, but her voice came out unexpectedly husky.
Liar.
Unwilling to analyze why she'd blindly walked into his arms in the face of everything she believed—no,
knew
to be true, she lifted her glass. "Let's toast to something.
Anything."

Jim nodded. "Good idea." He frowned and thought for a moment, then touched the rim of his glass lightly against hers. "To a lady with more brains and courage than I gave her credit for." He lifted his glass, his gaze steady on her widening eyes. Taking a sip, he waited for her to drink. "Well?"

Pepper shrugged and tried to calm her alarm over his continued intimacy. "Bygones are bygones, Jim. It could just as easily have been me in trouble this morning." Her face serious, she lifted her glass to him, then took a small sip of the light, oak-flavored wine. The sincerity in his eyes and voice shook her, and she didn't want him to see the depth of her reactions to him. Casting around for some safer topic, she noticed a wonderful scent emanating from the oven. "Whatever you're cooking, it smells good," she said, forcing a cheerful smile. Right now, eating was the
last
thing on her mind.

Jim remained serious as he sat down opposite her. Something was driving him to remain intimate with Pepper. He ignored her attempt to lighten the mood. "I think you hold a lot of secrets," he said quietly, meeting her startled look. Setting his glass aside, he added, "I've had all day to think about you—us—and I've come to the conclusion that I know very little about you, Pepper." One corner of his mouth curved upward. "I do know that you're smart, gutsy and humble. You could have told
Perseus
about my attitude, the problems we had before and during the HAHO, but you didn't." He drilled her with a look. She colored fiercely. "Why? You had every right to."

Gazing down at her wineglass, Pepper murmured, "Look, I had that stuff pulled on me all the time in the army, Jim. It got worse when I demanded to take Ranger training. Every man there, almost without exception, was just waiting to gig me on something, to report me, to show my weaknesses to the world. I know what it's like to be singled out, to be the underdog." She gazed into his dark, somber eyes and saw another, hard-to-define emotion that set her heart to beating harder in her breast. "It would have been different if you hadn't realized your mistakes. But you did. Why pour salt in your wounds? I knew you were hurting." The larger, more encompassing truth was that she had been hurting for him, too.

"Maybe that's the difference between a woman being in charge and a man."

Relieved that the talk was turning more toward professional generalities, Pepper sighed inwardly. "There are many differences between the genders," she agreed slowly, tracing the rim of her glass with her fingertip. "I can tell you I don't treat my team of twenty the way I was treated in the army."

"Good leaders are rare, and you're one of them." Jim rubbed his jaw and said, "You made me feel ashamed of myself out there today, Pepper. It wasn't your fault. It was mine. I'd been a first-class jerk to you from the moment we met." He sighed,
then
smiled tentatively. "I wanted you to come over tonight so I could tell you that. To say I'm sorry and mean it. I didn't want to say it at
Perseus
, where we might get interrupted." He couldn't explain away their kiss, though, and he didn't even try.

Pepper felt the heat in her cheeks again, but this time she didn't care. The dark green warmth in Jim's eyes was sincere, blanketing her with a wonderful range of emotions that made her feel so incredibly alive. How long had it been since she'd felt that wonderful rush through her heart, which made her take a long, unsteady breath?
Too long.
"I knew you were sorry, Jim. Thanks for having me over, but it wasn't necessary."

He slowly got up and moved toward the kitchen cabinets. "I disagree. When I got home this afternoon after the debriefing, I kept asking myself who
is
Pepper Sinclair? Where'd she get her nickname? Does she have another name? What about her personal life?" He brought down two china plates edged with gold and placed them on the table.

When he turned and met her steady gaze, Jim saw real anguish, combined with fear. Why?

Pepper sat very still beneath Jim's heated inspection. She was seeing another surprising facet to this unusual man. His voice had gone low and husky, and her heart responded powerfully to his gentle inquisition. "I don't know that any of that matters," she said defensively.

"It matters to me," he said. Pulling out a drawer, he chose some flatware and brought it over to the table. "Rangers and Recons have a lot in common. They work as teams, and I know you understand the importance of that. You can't be on a team for any amount of time without getting to know your buddies, warts and all. There's a kind of unspoken marriage that happens—a personal closeness that binds the team together." He straightened and looked into her uncertain gaze. "You know what I'm talking about." And she did. He knew she understood very clearly what he was saying and what he was asking from her. But would Pepper drop that invisible wall between her professional
life
and let him in? Jim believed that sort of melding would be absolutely necessary if they were to survive the coming mission. But was she willing?

The silence in the kitchen seemed deafening to Pepper. She watched as Jim drew a Yankee pot roast, replete with potatoes and carrots, from the oven. He said nothing further as he proceeded to make
a thick
, brown gravy. Part of her wanted to bow to his request. It wasn't an extraordinary one, under the circumstances. At 0300 they would make a high-risk jump over the island in complete darkness—a jump that amounted to "out of the frying pan, into the fire," given what awaited them on the ground. Jim was right: they had to establish that bond now, no matter how painful it was to her.

Although dinner was delicious, Pepper ate little. She began to appreciate Jim's social abilities as an officer when he kept up a steady stream of polite small talk during the meal. Inside, she felt wary, knowing that after dinner the polite talk would turn serious—and personal. Her decision never to become personally involved with a man again was under assault. Pepper reminded herself what was really important in her life: her family, her friends and her team. The only thing she knew of that could stop her from accomplishing her
goals was
a romantic relationship. For that very reason, she had to fight her alarming attraction to Jim in order to maintain her promise to herself.