Some Like It Deadly (14 page)

“You just get sexier by the minute. You can para jump?” At her nod, he picked up his wine glass. “What else can you do that I don’t know about?”

Since that skated perilously close to a truth she couldn’t tell him yet, she danced along the edge. “I’m sure I have many hidden talents. What about you? What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?”

“Probably playing hide and seek with Armand’s security detail.”

“How so?” She was curious, particularly in light of their current situation.

“Because I jumped out of a moving car and landed in an alley. Then I got lost in a street fair where I didn’t speak the language.” Boyish chagrin warmed his expression. “The secret of why they couldn’t find me? I was well and truly turned around. I spent most of the day trying to figure out where the hell I was so I could get back.”

“And you never told them because...?”

“Pride. Guilt.” He spread his hands. “But I’d also made my point so the little impetuous action served its purpose. What about you? You jump over bridges and out of planes, but what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?”

That didn’t explain how he slipped them now, but they had time for that. Gritting her teeth, she made a face and stared at the pool “Would you believe me if I said that I’ve been pursued by a prince before?”

He leaned forward and put the wine glass down. “If his last name sounds anything like Dagmar, I don’t want to know.”

“No.” She softened the response and covered his hand with hers. “I hadn’t met His Highness before I started working for Anna.” Which was the absolute truth. She’d worked for Peterson, taken on some jobs here and there when he’d had work for her, but not for the grand duke.

“All right.” Richard relaxed and blew out a breath. “So what prince pursued you?”

“His name was Achmed Al-Sabah. He was the fourteenth son or something like that.” She stroked her tongue against her teeth. Richard seemed relaxed, but she recognized the sharp look in his gaze. He wanted details. “I met him while on assignment in Kuwait. I’d gone there to do some work on one of our bases—which is neither here nor there—but he had been part of a tour. He saw me, decided I would make a fantastic princess, and began to send me the craziest things.” No matter how entertained she was by the story, she never forgot how damn irritating it had been at the time.

“For example?” Richard curved his hand around hers, his thumb tracing a lazy pattern against skin. Tiny electric shocks impeded her interest in telling the story.

“First, he sent me silks—several thousand dollars’ worth of silk. I wore fatigues and BDUs, not silk. The guys in my unit got a big laugh out of it. Then he sent me meals, gourmet meals flown in from all over the world, and he tried to send in a chef, but the gate guards wouldn’t admit him to the base.” She’d almost forgotten about her royal stalker. “Every gift included an invitation, usually something innocuous—a walk together, a supper, twice he invited me the palace. I declined every invitation, but when he sent me the camels? That I had to explain to my C.O.”

Whether it was the consternation in her tone or the content of the statement, Richard laughed. “Camels?”

“A
dozen
camels.” She squeezed his hand.

“And what offer did he have with the camels?”

“Oh, that was a proposal.” Shaking her head, Kate laughed. “My C.O. told me we needed to put an end to the pursuit immediately and that meant letting the prince know in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t interested, but...” She trailed off invitingly.

“There’s always a but.” He leaned forward, elbows on the table and played with her hand between his. “You couldn’t upset the political balance or curry disfavor?”

“Exactly. So how does one tell a prince to stuff his camels up his ass politely?” She waggled her brows and Richard’s grin grew.

“Very carefully.”

“Well, that’s one theory.” She’d been polite. It hadn’t worked. “You see, I had been gracious in declining every single gift. We’d sent them all back. I couldn’t accept them and I’d always gotten someone from the public relations office to give me a very well-worded, cordial no, but they were all nos. Seriously I think this guy was just messing with me because he could. So, I asked my C.O. for a pass to go off base for thirty-six hours.”

“Why?” He was completely hooked on the story and, despite his constant caresses, she enjoyed his reactions too much to leave him hanging.

“Because I needed to give the army as much plausible deniability in my choices as I could. My C.O. approved it, but I had to take one of the MPs with me—Messer, he was a good guy. He played it cool and off we went to have lunch with a prince.”

“Okay, now I’m intrigued. How the hell is going to lunch with that camel salesman going to send a message?” The protectiveness in his voice and grip turned fierce.

Rubbing her thumb against his fingers, she shushed him. “Shh, it’s all right. I’m a big girl. I could handle it.”

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should. No means no in any language.” Hmm, probably a very good thing Richard hadn’t been in her life during that particular episode. She rather suspected he’d have made an international incident. When she said as much he nodded firmly. “Damn straight. And I have a grand duke in my corner, he’d have helped.”

“Well do you want to hear the rest of the story or would you like to get angrier on my behalf?” She lifted his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles. “You’re very sexy when you’re angry.”

The quiet fury in his gaze drained away and the want returned. “Finish, I’ll behave.”

“Hopefully not for long.” His eyes flared at her tease, so she grinned and continued. “Lunch turned out to be a huge formal affair with a dozen of his closest relatives and, of course, Messer and me. We went through all the motions and then went for a long walk and Messer—acting as my ‘brother’—informed the prince that his pursuit had earned a measure of interest from my ‘family,’ but unfortunately, we had rules and traditions that had to be observed.”

Richard’s attention remained riveted on her. “I think we’re getting to the crazy part.”

“Uh huh.” She laughed. “The prince said he would happily meet any ritual my brother wanted to put him through to prove his great and undying love for me. Messer told him that in order for the family to feel comfortable accepting his pledge, he’d have to beat me in a hand to hand fight.”

“What?” Richard stared.

“That was exactly what the prince said. He was shocked, I tell you, shocked, that combat was what was required. Now I had to stay quiet through all of this, demure and restrained and not laugh my butt off at his facial expressions. Messer told him that we came from a long line of warriors—technically true since he was my army brother. Anyway—” she pressed on before Richard could interrupt, “—the prince was outraged, but Messer gave him a helpless look and said if the prince didn’t think he could handle a mere woman in a very straightforward fight, he could hardly be expected to protect and care for me in a manner that would be expected.”

“Oh my God, he played him.” Richard looked torn between horror and amusement. Covering his mouth with one hand, he stared at her. “And what did this paragon do?”

“He argued for a little while, but finally conceded that, yes, he wanted me enough that he was willing to beat me to have me.”

“Please tell me you kicked his ass?”

“All over the floor. We kept the fight very private—Messer with me and one of the prince’s bodyguards with him. The bodyguard was ordered to stay out of it and so was Messer. After he was done puking in the corner, the prince offered me his most sincere apologies, but he’d changed his mind and dropped his pursuit.” Merriment danced through her. “We never heard another word—no censure, no political fallout. Achmed didn’t want anyone to know.”

“...that a gorgeous, talented woman kicked his ass.” Richard laughed, his open joy delighting her more than recounting the story. “You’re right, that’s one of the craziest things I’ve ever heard and damn if I’m not proud of you.”

Pleasure speared her at the words.

“Of course, I’m not going to fight you physically to win.”

“No?” She challenged, brows raised.

“No.” It was his turn to lift her hand to his lips. “What I will do is begin here at your hand and kiss each finger and then glide my tongue up the soft side of your arm to the crook of your elbow. I want to explore every inch of your skin. If you’re still in the game at that point, I’ll ease your shirt up, just enough to let my hand rest against your abdomen while I nuzzle the curve of your neck and then your jaw and finally tempt that gorgeous mouth of yours—” his voice dropped and her breath hitched, her humor melting into a pool of molten heat, “—with the slowest of caresses, I’ll ease a hand around your breast...”

She shoved the chair back and stood. “You win.”

The triumph in his smile took her breath away. “But I’ve only just gotten started.”

Chapter Eleven

“Started?” The word shuddered out of her. She moistened her lips and the glossy sheen invited him closer. From the moment she had come out onto the deck she’d been delighting him—first with her teasing play running her fingers up his arm and then with her blatant invitation about the need for calories. Dinner, though, dinner had been an utter pleasure. She’d dug into the food and ate it with a gusto that he could appreciate, not an ounce of trying to eat only the salad and ignoring the rest.

He’d never told anyone before about getting lost that day. They all thought it demonstrated just how clever he was and it had given him insight into how to elude personal security. For a brief moment, he’d almost added how he slipped them during his recovery and again earlier that morning, but with more recent events he didn’t want to worry her. Even Armand had tried to get him to reveal exactly how he’d done it.

But Kate appreciated the irony and told him the most fascinating story in return. They had time for other tales later.

“Yes, started.” Standing, he closed the distance between them and ran a finger down the front of her tank top, pausing in the valley between her very much bra-free breasts. He’d thought so, but damned if he didn’t like finding out. “See, I’d like to take this off and play with your breasts.”

“O-okay.” She brought her hands up to spread against his chest. Her strength, he never questioned, nor her competence. She’d demonstrated her fierce spirit over and over again and yet when he’d realized that bullet
hurt
her it reminded him that strong didn’t mean invincible.

“This isn’t business,” he told her bluntly. “This isn’t about a contract or a work ethic or anyone but you and me.” He had no qualms about crossing the dividing line between business and pleasure—hell, he’d already crossed it. He wanted Kate, but having been on the receiving end of that clever mind of hers, he knew damn good and well he wanted her mind on the exact same page as her body.

“Okay,” she repeated the two-syllable word with a shudder.

Curling his finger around the fabric, he stroked the soft skin from the curve of her shoulder blade to the top of one breast. “Is it okay for me to use my fingers to touch?”

“Yes.” She wavered a little on her feet and backed up a step.

“What about my lips?” He followed her.

Pink flushed her cheeks and her eyes grew bright. “Y-yes. You’re killing me here.”

“Oh, if my fingers and my lips cause you problems, do you mind teeth?” He skimmed his touch down to trace the outer curve of one breast. The nipple puckered beautifully and poked at the fabric. His body hummed with the need to caress, to shape, to pinch, to twist, and play with her until those soft hitching breaths were all she was capable of. “What if I want to scrape my teeth lightly over that very pointed nipple and suck on it?”

Her fingers curled into his shirt and she tugged him forward, the fire in her eyes incandescent. “Are you going to talk me into an orgasm, Richard? Or actually put your hands where your mouth seems intent on going?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” he teased just to watch her eyes widen and her temper flare.
Gotcha.
Snaking an arm around her waist, he bent and took her legs out from under her and swung her up into his arms. “Hold on and, if your shoulder twinges, you tell me.”

It wasn’t a request.

Her lashes swept down and when they came up again, mischief grew in her smile. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” The reminder of his boast about seducing his secretary amused him.

Pinching her ass in retaliation, he laughed. “Armand should never have told you that story.”

“I’m glad he did.” She took advantage of their position to tug down the collar of his shirt and pressed her lips to the flesh she revealed. Flames kindled in his blood and he picked up the pace, saving any words for the top of the stairs.

“Why are you so glad he did?” It took him a minute to remember which room was his. Hell, they all were and they all had beds, but he wanted her in his room and in
his
bed.

“He loves you, very much.” Her answer surprised him and he paused just inside the door of his room to meet her gaze. “It’s a rare thing to see men being openly affectionate about their relationships, but you mean the world to him. I think it was his way of telling me that I shouldn’t take advantage of you.”

Grappling with that idea for a moment, he carried her to the bed and sat down, cradling her in his lap. Nuzzling her forehead and then her cheek, he murmured, “I think it was his way of messing with me.”

“Has it occurred to you that he managed to do both in one simple statement?” She traced the line of his jaw, pressing a row of sweet, butterfly kisses all the way to his throat and he lifted his head, letting her play. The feel of her bottom pressed against his lap and the weight of her on his chest was an erotic sensation he wouldn’t trade for anything.

“With him, anything is possible,” he mused. Armand had surprised him over the years with his choices and the lengths to which he would go. “However, if you have any other comments about him, let’s get those out of the way right now.”

She glanced at him, brows raised in lazy question.

“No more questions? Comments? General statements where Armand is concerned?”

“It’s so tempting to tease you right now, considering how incredibly tight my body is wound and how much I want to strip off your clothes and feel you thrusting inside of me...”

Galvanized by her words, he leaned away enough to lift the hem of her shirt and she helped him pull it off. She tapped his own impatiently, but he ignored the request, his attention locked on the beautiful curves he’d just revealed. While not petite, her breasts more than filled his hands and were capped by the dark, puckered rosettes. “Dark cherries in sweet cream,” he whispered and swung her down onto the bed easily—careful, always careful, of her shoulder.

The hungry, aching need inside him enthusiastic in its demand. It didn’t want to play anymore, it wanted to touch and to taste and to savor. A dozen different erotic images danced through his mind and he cupped one breast and gave in to the urge to stroke his thumb across the peak. Capturing her gasp in a hot, languorous kiss, the rational part of his brain shut off and he abandoned her mouth with a nip to her lower lip then dipped to pull one plumped nipple between his teeth.

Her fingers fisted in his hair and she arched her back. A hiss dragged his head up and he glared at her. “You have to lay still, no pain for you.”

“No.” Defiance roiled in the word. “Stop talking and kiss me.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He kissed her hard and slid a hand down to undo her shorts. Nibbling a path back to her abandoned breast, he closed his teeth around the nipple and slid his hand into her shorts. Her gasps turned to a whimper and he divided his attention between licking and sucking each breast and teasing his fingers into the damp folds between her thighs.

Nothing with Kate was halfway. She thrust her hands into his hair, pulling him impatiently closer. Her thighs spread and her hips arched to each teasing caress of his finger. He pressed the heel of his hand against her clit and the muscles of her neck went taut. Lifting his head from her breast, he watched the orgasm roll over her as he teased it from her.

It was the most erotic sight he’d ever seen.

Slipping his hand free, he rose enough to tug her shorts down and the scrap of lace panties. Holding them up, he stared at her with a grin. His very put-together, professional Kate liked lace. He would drown her in it. Sprawled against the dark coverlet, she gave him a smile filled with lazy pleasure. “You have too many clothes on.”

“I’m working on that.” But he wasn’t. He wanted to drink in his fill of her beauty. Of her supple, taut curves, the shape of her hip and the sweet, sweep of her legs. So much strength housed in one extremely feminine body.

Lifting her right leg, he pressed a kiss against her calf then again to the inside of her knee then again to her thigh. She tracked his progress, curled her leg, rubbing her foot against his back. Slipping his hands under bottom, he teased the soft skin with his thumbs and dipped down to lick her once from her slick entrance to her clit. “You didn’t let me mention this part downstairs.” He had no idea where he found the words, but he wanted to tell her everything. He wanted her as engaged in every part of his discovery of her.

“Oh?” Strain added a higher note to her voice and he smiled, nuzzling a kiss against her sex and then spearing his tongue inside. Her hips bucked and he teased her with a series of bites and licks.

But he saved the best for last, locking his mouth around the tight bundle of nerves and drawing on it, “hmmm.” And she came again, in a wild explosion. Her thighs clamped against his shoulders and he held on, drawing out the pleasure until she shook from it.

Lifting his head, he gazed at her until she managed to open her eyes and look at him again. “Oh yes, I want to do that a few more times, but someone was very ready.” He dragged a finger through the slick folds, the damp scent of her arousal like a drug he could very easily become addicted to.

“I blame you, utterly.” Even drunk on passion she still managed to sass him.

“What can I do to make it up to you?” He eased a finger inside her and her eyes darkened, but she never looked away.

“Hmm. Lukewarm.” But the perspiration dotting her skin and the ragged quality of her breathing made that a lie.

“Hmm, how is this?” He slid in a second finger, testing her tightness and her hips arched.

“Warmer.” But she wasn’t done playing and the muscles in her throat stood out in stark relief.

“I guess you need something more?” He worked his fingers in and out, a gentle thrusting motion and her lips parted.

“More...would...b-be—better.” The broken quality of speech told him more than anything else just how ready she was. Giving her clit another soft kiss, he eased his fingers out then stood. Shedding his clothes quickly, he pulled a condom out of the drawer next to the bed.

She stared, openly studying his body and he resisted the urge to puff out his chest. His cock ached with so much need it bordered on painful. Rolling the condom on, he barely noticed the shaking in his hands.

“That’s—definitely more.” This time, her words held a provocative invitation and he grinned.

“So you’ll let me know if I get to hot?” He couldn’t wait until her shoulder was healed. They could
really
play then.

“C’mere,” she whispered and held out her arms. Unwilling and unable to deny her anything, he settled back into the cradle of her thighs and braced his weight on his arms. He didn’t want to hurt her.

But instead of lying still, she wrapped her arms around his neck and dug her nails into his back. “I’m not that fragile, Richard.” The rebuke was both passionate and serious.

Easing forward, he teased both of them, rocking his erection against her. Her legs wrapped around his hips and she dragged his head down for an impatient kiss. He shifted his lower body and her thighs clamped against him.

Breaking the kiss, he reached between them and nudged inside her an inch. She’d been so damn tight while he played and he didn’t want to—

Kate’s legs crossed behind him and she anchored him, arching her hips and locking him down at the same moment. He slid into her all the way to the hilt.

The overload damn near had his eyes crossing.

Fisting his hand into the covers, he tried to glare at her, but she caught his face in her hands and whispered, “Move.”

The last rational link in his restraint snapped and the only thoughts he had were how exquisite she looked and felt, pulsing around him as he rocked into her. She stroked his shoulders, her nails biting into his flesh. Her mouth opened and he wasn’t sure who claimed who, because she became everything. The world crashed around him in a wild tidal wave of lust, and need, and something far more indefinable that a part of his heart recognized as love. Then there was nothing but Kate and he came with a surge that left him shaken to the core.

* * *

Sometime during the evening, he woke to the feel of her mouth on him. The slow, sensuous torture turned into the longest—and definitely the second most erotic—experience in his life. By the time she’d wrenched every drop of an orgasm from him and snuggled back into his arms, he thought he could die happy. Waking to her sound asleep against his chest, her hair spread out against him and her leg nestled securely between his filled him with a very rare contentment.

The buzz of his cell phone intruded and he stretched to grab it, careful not to wake Kate. George’s Pizza flashed on the caller ID and he answered immediately.

They didn’t call on the weekend if they could help.

“What’s wrong? Is everything all right?”

“She’s ready to talk, but I don’t know if she’ll stay that way.” Diane Fowler’s response was blunt and on point. “Can you come out to see her today?”

“I can try.” He frowned. It would be harder to elude Armand’s security during the day. Tracing his fingers along Kate’s spine, he considered his options. “I’ll be there later tonight. I’ll call when I’m on my way.”

“Thank you, you made an impression yesterday. She’s just scared.”

“I know,” he murmured, his voice still low. “It will be fine, I’ll be with you as soon as I can.”

Diane said her goodbyes and the call disconnected with a soft click. After returning the cell phone to the nightstand, he smiled at the morning sunlight playing across his ceiling. Apparently they’d never gotten around to closing his curtains. Not that he cared. Kate ran her palm up his side and he heard her yawn before she lifted her head. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.”

“Who was on the phone?” She smothered a yawn.

“Nobody.” No one she needed to know about anyway. He could so get used to sleepy, soft, doe-eyed Kate. Indulging his pleasure at finding her plastered against him, he ran an exploratory hand over her hip

“Hmm, you do wake up chipper. I was afraid of that.” Her eyes closed and she pressed her ear to his chest. His heart thumped hard against his ribs.

“Nothing wrong with being a morning person,” he chided her. Not that he really was, but waking up to Kate in his arms? That gave a man a reason to be happy.