The Mercenary (14 page)

“You’re pure hell on my good intentions—you know that, princess?” He lifted his head to look down at

her. He caressed her bottom lip with his thumb, his eyes locked with hers.

Tory tentatively tasted his skin with the tip of her tongue. His pupils flared. She took a little nip from his

thumb and he retaliated by crushing her to him, devouring her mouth until she was weak.

He kissed her with an intensity and dedication that would have awed her if she’d been in her right mind.

When he eventually broke the kiss they were both breathing hard. Then his clever lips moved down her

throat and she felt the shocking wet heat of his open mouth on her nipple. She kneaded the damp skin of

his back as he lavished his attention first on one hard peak and then the other. Tory realized that she was

making small insistent noises in the back of her throat. He wouldn’t be hurried, though.

With slow

thoroughness his mouth moved down her rib cage. Her skin was on fire as his fingers opened her, and as

predictably as a sunrise his mouth found her. She couldn’t help herself; her legs moved restlessly under

the onslaught as his lips and tongue brought her right to the edge.

She wanted him. Now. “Marc…please, oh, please…” She clutched at his hair until he moved back up

her body and settled into the cradle of her thighs. He surged into her and her climax came forcefully and

immediately.

He held her in the harbor of his strong arms until the shudders that racked her body died away. And then

he started to move again as if he’d never stopped.

Tory’s head thrashed in the sand. “No…more…I can’t…” But she realized with amazement that she could, when she felt his powerful hands grip her bottom and his

steady thrust become harder, faster, deeper.

“Come with me, sweetheart. Come with me.” His voice was harsh in her ear, as he drove into her again

and again.

“Yes…Like that…” He inhaled sharply as her hips rose, then she felt his hands slide under her as he

clutched her bottom, showing her how to move. “God! Yes…yes…!” Astounded she felt her muscles gather and tense, and when he gave one last surge, his shout was echoed

by hers.

Her body tightened and soared, then dissolved in a heap beneath him as he collapsed against her, his

breath ragged against her throat.

Her hair had been tossed about and Marc moved a strand from where it stuck to her hot, damp cheek.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. His hand lingered on her face as he looked down at her with a

slightly bemused expression. “When I look at you, all I can think about are clean sheets on a big bed.”

“We seem to have done all right on the ground,” Tory said shyly, smoothing the frown between his eyes

with one finger.

He took her hand from his face and kissed her fingertips before rolling onto his back, taking her with

him. Her chin rested on his chest where his heart still beat an excited tattoo.

Turning her head so his chest pillowed her cheek, Tory smoothed her hand down the hard flat muscles,

playing with the crisp dark hairs. She felt his lips against her hair. “Talk to me,” he said.

Perfectly relaxed and content in the semidarkness, Tory complied. She told him how, when she’d been a

young child, her grandmother had been a night nurse, and the house had always been closed up and dark

during the day so that the woman could sleep. She told him of her heartache over her grandmother’s

refusal to adopt Alex or allow him to visit his sister.

Tory said little about her bookkeeping job and skirted around his question about whom she’d dated.

Her grandmother had refused to allow her the usual freedoms granted most teenagers and by the time

she’d died and Tory was living on her own, she’d felt painfully out of sync with the men she met.

She nuzzled closer, blissfully happy. In a few hours he’d leave to go out and look for her brother. When

the two men returned it would be time to say goodbye. She was going to treasure every second with him

until then.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“HAVE YOU EVER BEENin love?” Tory asked softly. Sprawled bonelessly over his body she nuzzled

her mouth against the underside of his jaw.

She hadn’t gone for the hard sell; he might as well give the soft-shoe shuffle a shot, Marc thought drily.

But he couldn’t resist stroking her back beneath the silky skeins of her long hair. “I’m not a stick-around

kind of guy. You might have guessed that by now.” How could skin be this soft? This sensitive? How

could she smell of vanilla after all she’d been through in the last few days?

“Why not?” She traced a path along his jawline with her damp mouth, her fingers tangled in his hair. He

liked the weight of her blanketed over his body. He enjoyed the feel of her slender hands petting him.

“Too many people I cared about have—”Betrayed me, he thought, and replaced it with

“—been taken

away from me. I just don’t trust the hell out of fate.”

“What if I trust it enough for both of us?” Her mouth was beside his ear now, and her warm breath made

him shudder with every soft word.

Then I’d call you a fool,he thought grimly. “Don’t delude yourself, I’m not capable.

I’ve seen too much

to ever have the naive belief that love will conquer all. Any excess emotion makes a man weak, be it love

or hate. I can’t afford to be off guard. My life and those of my colleagues depend on my having a clear

head.”

He missed his T-FLAC operatives. He missed the life that had once been his world.

Guilt still ate at him

that he’d allowed Alex Stone to come here to Marezzo alone. Whiling away the useless hours before

dawn with his friend’s sister wasn’t exactly a stellar move. Another rock in his suitcase of guilt.

He seemed to be compounding it stone by stone.

Tory cupped his cheek in her cool palm and brushed her mouth over his as delicately as a butterfly’s

wing. “And an empty heart?”

Yeah. It probably would be empty. If he had one. He didn’t. Made life a hell of a lot easier to deal with

that way. He tilted her chin up so that her eyes met his, needing her to understand just a little. “I want you

more than I’ve ever wanted another woman—if that means anything.” It shocked him to realize that he

spoke the truth.

“Does it to you?” she asked wistfully.

“Yes.” His mouth was less than a whisper away as he breathed the words like a prayer,

“Yes, God help

me. It’s all I’ve got to give.”

“Who hurt you, Marc? What woman made you lose the ability to love?”

“What makes you think there was a woman?”What makes you think I was ever capable of giving or

receiving love?

Tory regarded him steadily in the rippling glow from the distant lake. Her eyes were very green, very

serious. She brushed her hand across his shoulder. “Because I know that someone hurt you very badly.

Because sometimes when you look at me, and I can see how much you want me, you rub at this scar

right here and the heat goes out of your eyes and you try to make me hate you.” Marc eased her down against his chest so she wasn’t looking at him with rainwater-clear eyes and a

mouth made for his kisses. “I shouldn’t have to convince you to stay away from me, Tory. I’m a man. I’ll

take whatever you offer me. Sex doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“Okay. I get it,” she said without heat. “What was her name?”

“Krista Davis.” He waited for that dark hole to open up inside him. He waited…But the darkness that

always came when he thought of Krista’s laugh didn’t materialize.

“Blue eyes, silky blond hair,” Tory guessed. “A chest out to there. A petite Barbie doll who could

probably shoot a gun beside you all day and then be home in time to cook a gourmet dinner. Probably

wearing a black negligee. Every man’s fantasy—lucky you.”

“Ever heard the expression, ‘Be careful what you wish for’?”

“My grandmother said it all the time. I learned early to keep my ‘wishes’ few and far between. And

realistic.” When he tightened his arms around her she prodded him with her chin. “Go on.”

He glanced at his wristwatch. Half an hour until he figured it was safe to go out. Safe was a relative term.

Safe normally entailed stealthily moving unnoticed in the darkness, but apparently Tory’s special sensory

gift required a minimal amount of light for clarity. Half an hour of pillow talk wouldn’t kill him. Would it?

And it would keep his mind off the risky daylight assault ahead of them.

“I recruited and trained Krista myself. She was one of my best operatives. God, she was quick as

lightning. She would size up a situation and handle it before any of my other people had even realized that

there might be a problem. She was absolutely fearless. Afraid of nothing.” Bully for her. Courage and cleavage.“I don’t need to know the details,” Tory said tightly. “Just hit the

high points.”

“We worked together on several jobs. She was an excellent shot, I trusted her with my life.” They’d

been lovers for a year. Krista had been pushing to get married, even knowing that operatives rarely

married, and even more rarely married fellow T-FLAC operatives.

The more Krista pressed, the more Marc had started believing that hecould have it all. A job he loved,

and also a wife and family. He’d liked the idea of having someone to come home to.

Kids…It had been

a pipe dream, of course.

“I was down in Mexico City. I’d been undercover for seven months. Everything was copacetic until

Krista arrived on the scene.

“‘Backup,’ she told me. She played her damn part too well. I believed her. She betrayed me. The

mission was scrubbed.” Not just the mission, but their relationship had changed in his absence. How

could it not?That he could have lived with. It was what happened later that had changed everything.

“Not all women are like that,” Tory murmured. She laid her cheek against his, then pressed closer,

wanting to absorb his pain. Tears stung her eyes.

“Krista isn’t like that anymore, either. She’s dead. But I’ll never let anyone else that close again.” His

voice was cold.

“Did you love her?”

“It was a close facsimile. I told you not to get ideas. Sex is all I can offer you. Take it or leave it.”

She met his gaze with a clear-eyed look that went to his heart like a laser. “I’ll take it.”

“CAN YOU SENSEAlex from here?” Marc asked, wishing he could leave her in the caves. But he had

two damn good reasons to keep her close. Alex. And the three men he’d killed probably had buddies

who’d soon come looking for them.

“It depends…”

“On?” He checked each weapon and grabbed several packs of ammo.

“On how strong he is.” Tory turned her back and indicated her hair. He combed his fingers through it,

then tightly braided it. “On if he’s conscious. On…I don’t know. I sensed he’d been in that house this

morning. But I didn’t pick up a location. I understand that you’d rather I stay here. But if we want to find

himfast, you know I’m going to have to go out with you again.” Tucking her braid down inside the back of her T-shirt as he’d done the last time, Marc knew she was

right. He didn’t like it, goddamn it, but Tory was going tohave to accompany him again.

Shit. “Make sure

no one gets a look at this hair. It’s too damned memorable.” He found a baseball cap stuffed in a side

pocket of his pack and pulled it down low over her eyes. “That should do it.”

“Pavina?”

“Yeah.”

“I spent a couple of hours there last time I was here. I didn’t sense Alex there so I headed straight for

Pescarna.” She pushed the bill of the cap out of her eyes. “It must be ten miles if not more to Pavina.

Surely we’re not going to walk?”

“If you weren’t with me I would.” Crouching down, he opened the A.L.I.C.E. pack.

“What the hell

were you doing messing around in this pack? Damn it woman, I can’t find anything!”

“Everything is where it’s supposed to be. I had to find the first-aid kit.”

“It was right on top.” He started pulling things out of the pack and tossing them on the sand. “Don’t start

nesting, for God’s sake.”

“I tidied it,” she said, striving for lightness. She could see that he was spoiling for a fight—again.

“Leave my things the hell alone.”

“Would you listen to yourself? Why are you suddenly so angry?”

“I don’t like people messing with my gear. I know where everything is and I—”

“Fine.” Tory picked up the plates and got to her feet. “Why don’t I just let you rant and rave in private

while I go and wash the coffee mugs?”

When she got back, he was tucking his pant legs into the tops of his boots. His hair had been tied back

and he had a gun in his hand.

“Are you planning to shoot someone?” Tory asked, giving him a wary glance.

Marc closed his eyes briefly, then lifted his shirt to tuck the Walther into his waistband at the small of his

back. His pale eyes assessed her and his mouth tightened. “You can’t go out with the cast showing.

People will see you a mile away and they’ll remember you.” He looked very tall and menacing as he strode across the sand toward her. She moved her feet slightly

apart and tilted her chin. She was getting sick and tired of him sniping and snarling at her.

He had something in his hand, but she couldn’t see what it was. Tory held her ground as he came right

up to her. He looked like a desperado with his earring flashing and dark stubble shadowing his face.

The smile was gone as he said briskly, “Lift your arms.” If he thought for one second that she was going to kiss him, he had another think coming. “Why should