Seek and Destroy (13 page)

    One answer-
desperation
.

    The thought of her leaving gave him mixed feelings. He'd be able to focus at the bar again, but damn if he wouldn't miss seeing her every night. And now that he'd actually talked to her, gotten to know a little about her and to find everything about her intriguing, he didn't know if he wanted to go through with it.

    Why the hell not? He'd never hesitated to accept an invitation from a hot-as-hell angel before. But something about this woman made him want to...What? Show her more respect than a one-night stand?

    Damn it. That was exactly it.

    She wasn't anything like the women David accepted invitations from. They all came to him, flirted and played with him, with every intention to sleep with him. Some even came back for more. Hell, he didn't mind. He knew exactly what he meant to them, and they meant the same to him.

    Nothing more than a booty call.

    No strings, no emotional ties. And even though Charis gave the impression she didn't want anything beyond what the night had in store, he knew better. Sure, they'd have wild, unrestrained sex until the sun came up. He'd bury himself so deeply inside her wet channel he'd never want to come out. He'd taste her, eat her, feast on her juices until she cried for release. And then they'd start all over again. After all was said and done, she'd leave Hawaii without so much as a glance back. But he would know.

    It bothered the hell out of him that it mattered this much.

    And after years of dealing with his own emotional baggage, he'd be damned if he would be the cause of someone else having to deal with the shit he dealt with on a daily basis.

    And why the hell would she agree to go up to his room anyway? She didn't know him from Adam. He might have snapped under the pressure of being thrown out on his ass by NASSD. He could easily sever her neck without breaking a sweat and be through with it. There were dozens of ways he could make her dance like a marionette if he wanted.

    
Ohshitohdamn
. He did not just whisper a thought of concern over her well-being. Maybe he should just scare her. Scaring her would definitely make her think twice before accepting another invitation up to a virtual stranger's room. He'd push her out of her comfort zone. He'd be aggressive, frightening as he scared her straight.

    Reality crashed down so hard he swayed. He would not be her lover tonight. He needed to stay focused on the goal-to scare some sense into her. She needed to understand the pitfalls field agents found themselves in.

    The beautiful ICE agent was in way over her head. He planned to make sure she knew that before sending her home empty-handed. He didn't want to see her get hurt, and if he didn't scare her into thinking twice about taking on a field assignment, he hated to think what would. He'd been captured, tortured into unconsciousness. He'd been locked into rooms smaller than coffins. No food. No water. Nothing but a pinhole for air. If that didn't make a person second-guess their career, nothing would.

    The elevator dinged and she hesitated as he stepped in.
Good girl.
"Change your mind?"
Please say yes.

    With a quick breath, she shook her head and practically jumped into the elevator. She turned her back to him and folded her hands in front of her. Classic defensive move. Good. She already displayed her anxiety with her decision.

    "I used to love riding in elevators as a kid."

    Odd conversation starter, but he went with it. "I think we all did."

    "It was the feeling of the butterflies in your tummy, the absolute weightlessness. It makes me dizzy, even now. How about you?"

    "No."

    The elevator barely moved, let alone had the ability to cause dizziness or weightlessness. Most of those who'd been at the resort for more than a few days chose to take the stairs. No, this poor lady must have had one too many glasses of wine.

    "Did you ever see that one cartoon?"

    "No."

    She turned and looked at him. When she smiled, he sucked in a breath. Talk about butterflies. "Quite the conversationalist, aren't we?"

    "I don't watch cartoons." That was the best he could come up with? Jesus Christ, he was pathetic.

    A final smile in his direction and, with a shake of her head, she turned back to watch the numbers just as the number seven finally lit up. The silence deafened the small elevator. He couldn't think of anything else to say, so he let the silence take over.

    The doors whooshed open and he led her down the hall to his room. She walked in after he opened the door, looking in all directions. Except at him. The poor woman had to be a nervous wreck. Why would she agree to this if it scared her? Did he scare her? Good. She needed to be scared, to keep her wits about her.

    "Wine?"

    "Uh, yes. Please."

    
Strike one, Angel. Alcohol slows the senses, lessens the sharpness of the mind. You've already had two glasses.
Well, he finished her second glass.

    She kept her hands in front of her, tightly wringing them over and over. "This is... Nice. Have you been here the entire time?"

    "Yep. This is home for me now, at least when I'm not out doing a job."

    She lost her expression as she studied his face. "Been freebasing?"

    Huh? "Do you mean free
lancing
?"

    "That's what I said," she defended without missing a beat. "And you know freelancing is against the rules."

    Screw the rules. "I just do a few odd and end jobs here on the island. Nothing major."

    "Your secret is safe with me." Her eyes traced the walls, taking in every detail. He'd already memorized the entire room within minutes the first time he'd set foot inside, all the way down to the four-inch crack in the sheetrock by the entry door. He'd had the cheap prints of sunset paintings removed from his walls, instead choosing simple black and white Miles Anthony's. Each had a single item in the picture filtered with color. He'd never seen any photographer capture a landscape the same way. "These are beautiful."

    He stopped right behind her and looked up at the pictures. She seemed to focus on one in particular, which just so happened to be his favorite. As a test, he brought his hands to her shoulders and gently brushed her arms. "They are-"

    "Miles Anthony," she answered for him. "I know. I have three of them myself."

    Holy shit. He'd never met another person who even knew a Miles Anthony from a hole in their head, let alone someone else who owned his work.

    "This one is my favorite." She pointed up at the picture of a rolling meadow, a single pink Oleander standing in perfection in the middle of the largest hill.

    "Mine, too." He leaned forward and drew in a deep breath, immediately intoxicated by her scent. She smelled of a vanilla perfume, of a deep muskiness he knew stemmed from the moist heat between her legs. His cock spasmed, pressing hard against his shorts. Nuzzling closer, he lightly brushed his lips up and down her exposed neck. The goose bumps jumped out on her skin, tickling his lips.

    He smiled and kept going. His tongue darted across her silky skin, and her breath hitched. Stepping closer, he continued to caress her as he nipped playfully.

    "My b-brother thinks they are boring." Her pulse jumped. He saw it again at the base of her neck. "But I l-love them."

    He let out a breath, sure to tickle her neck with warmth. She quickened her breathing. When he lowered his hands down and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against him, she stopped breathing altogether. He knew she had to feel his cock pushing up against the small of her back, had to feel how much he wanted her. Just to make sure, he rolled his hips, letting out a heavy breath as the curve of her ass rolled against his hard-on.

    He caught himself before getting lost in her. His dick jumped and he stopped himself right before pushing his erection up against her once more. As much as he wanted it to happen-and he
really
wanted it to happen-he couldn't let it.

    Too bad.

    

    

    "Nervous?" he asked her while still feasting on her neck.

    "Oh my God, yes."

    With a deep-seated hesitation, he pulled back, offering her a final kiss on the back of the neck as he chuckled. Leave it to this woman to answer him honestly. From what he'd been able to pick up from her, he'd expect no less.

    Moving over to the table, he paused and eyed the wine. He popped the cork and poured them each a drink. What was one little drink?

    She thanked him as he handed her a glass. If she gripped it any tighter she'd surely shatter it into a thousand pieces. Interesting. She seemed so bold and inviting downstairs in the restaurant.

    "How about a toast?"

    He stopped, the glass poised at his lips. Pulling it back, he held it up to match hers. "Okay. What should we drink to?"

    The way her eyes danced mischievously had him in so much pain he wanted to cry. "To love."

    That comment made him want to dump his drink down the nearest drain. "Why love?"

    "I've never been in love, at least real love. Well, I don't think I have. I would know, right?"

    He looked at her. When she continued to stare at him, waiting for an answer, he realized it wasn't a hypothetical question. "If you've ever been in love, you'd know."

    "How?"

    The way her bright blue eyes shined up at him, so wide with wonder, he cleared his throat to cover his groan. His cock surged with a newfound lust. Oh Jesus, he wouldn't last ten seconds if she continued to look at him like that. He felt that slight flutter deep inside his chest he'd tried to keep suppressed for too long. Closing his eyes, he thought back to the first time he'd ever experienced love.

    "What does it feel like?" she urged.

    "Come on, Charis." He hated this. Shifting uneasily, he cleared his throat. He didn't want to talk about love, didn't even want to think about it.

    "Please?"

    He opened his eyes, rested them on her. Those eyes, so blue in their bottomless depths, pulled him in. All at once, the words flowed easily. "Love is
real
." He didn't say more, and by the way she narrowed her eyes before nodding at him, didn't need to. Keeping eye contact as she focused on him, she studied him for an eternity. Finally, accepting his explanation, she nodded again. Just like that.

    His assessment of the good doctor just jumped through the stratosphere.

    Color splashed her cheeks. "I thought you said you weren't capable of love."

    "Not anymore. But that doesn't mean I've never experienced it."

    She licked her lips, parted them ever so slightly as she watched him. Bringing her attention back up to his eyes, she smiled. Her eyes had a new twinkle in them, one he couldn't quite place. Whatever shined in her eyes made him uncomfortable, as if she somehow opened a page and started reading from a diary he didn't even keep. "So here's to choosing to give up."

    "What the hell does that mean?"

    "I think you know."

    "Enlighten me."

    "You'd rather give up on love than fight and find true happiness. Congratulations on your life of loneliness."

    David didn't know what to say, so he remained silent and took a long pull off his wine. Jesus, her words shot straight through his defenses and right into his heart. An awkward silence settled between them.

    Time to move in for round two. He took her hand. "Let's take a walk."

    "But we just got here. Don't you want to... You know..." She pointed toward the door that led to his tiny excuse of a bedroom. She was so damn cute in her honesty. He'd love to pull her into his arms, to possess her mouth with his, to have her whimper in surrender to his kiss. He shook the thought, remembering why he invited her up. This was not a social call. Unfortunately.

    "Sweetheart, this is Maui. No one stays inside. Let's take a walk together. I'll even hold your hand."

    She narrowed her eyes at him. "Why would you want to do that?"

    Her question threw him off. Again. With every other woman he'd ever had...er...
contact
with, it was exactly what they wanted to hear. Sort of the, 'I'll respect you in the morning' comment. Why didn't it work on her?

    He knew the answer before his mind even asked. Because she wasn't like any other woman he'd ever wanted. And he'd never wanted any other woman more than he wanted Charis McKoy. He felt like a starving man at an all-you-can-eat buffet. His meal stood right in front of him, and he couldn't eat her. Oh God, how he wanted to taste her, to pull her into his arms and lose himself in her scent, her body.

    His rigid cock pushed against his shorts, urging to be released. He had to close his eyes and think of something else. Christ. Nothing else but the image of Charis McKoy, naked in his bed, in his arms, flashed in his mind. He pulled his eyes open to bare slits, causing her to blur. It helped. Not much, but it helped.

    They needed to get out of his room. If he spent much more time alone with her, he wouldn't be able to stop himself. All she would have to do is smile at him. Wink at him again. Anything to give him permission to pull her to him and follow through with his earlier promise.

    "So is that a yes? Or no?"

    Charis took a nice long drink before nodding. "Okay, but you have to promise to be a perfect gentleman."

    
You've got to be kidding me.
"No promises. Tonight isn't about promises."

    "Then what it is about?"

    "Memories." He threw back the wine and took her glass, set them down on a nearby table. He'd have a little chat with Weber about the caliber of agents he sent into the field. This woman was so petrified she'd agree to anything. It wouldn't take much to push her beyond all sanity. He'd push her, but not that far. Just far enough for her to know this wasn't a game. She lucked out having a mark with such a big heart.