Black Jack

by Lora Leigh

  His lips pressed against hers, parted them, sipped from her as though arousal were an ambrosia and he was dying for more.

  His tongue stroked over her lips then slipped inside, caressed her tongue, licked, tasted. A hum of pleasure left her as she felt her hands moving slowly up his hard arms. Over muscle and flesh, tough, invincible, as he pulled her closer and lifted her tighter against him.

  The hard proof of his erection nudged at her pussy. It pressed against her clit, rubbed the material of her silk panties and the silk lining of her own leathers against the dampening folds between her thighs.

  Sexual need, excitement, and a rush of emotions that made no sense crowded in on her. Her flesh heated, burned. Wherever he touched, wherever the warmth of his body caressed her, triggered such a rush of pleasure racing through her that she felt dizzy.

  Her knees were weakening. Didn’t that only happen in books and movies? Not in real life?

  A moan whispered from her lips as her hands pushed into his hair, gripping the long strands, feeling the coarseness of it, the cool, achingly familiar touch of it.

  So little in her life was familiar anymore. This, though, this rocked through her system with an awareness that she had been here before, that she had missed this, needed it. There was also an assurance that she hadn’t had enough of it. Not yet. Perhaps never.

  His kiss was black magic, there was just no other word for it.

  “Travis.” She whispered his name as his lips slid to her cheek, the curve of her jaw, to her neck.

  Nerve endings tingled with a rush of pure sensation, white hot and intense as it washed through her body.

  Callused fingertips moved beneath the snug top she wore, caressed up, cupped . . . Jerking her head back, Lilly fought to hold on to a sense of balance as the pad of his thumb raked over her nipple while pressing beneath the lace of her bra.

  It was exquisite.

  As she arched against him her legs parted further for the hard thigh pressing between them, lifting her, forcing her to ride the hard contours of his thigh as she ground her pussy against him.

  She ached. Oh God, she ached as though sex were more than a want, as though it were imperative to her very being. A cascade of heated sensations flooded her body, dampening her sex, clenching the intimate muscles as she fought to catch her breath.

  Catching her breath wasn’t that easy. Each time she tried, he did something else, something sexy and exciting. Something that burned over sensitive flesh and raced over her nerve endings.

  Pulling the lace of her bra to the side, he exposed the hard tip of her nipple to the cool air of the room, then to the incredible heat of his mouth.

  Fighting to keep her eyes open, Lilly stared down at him, watching as his cheeks hollowed around the tight tip, the way his lashes shadowed his cheeks.

  It was incredibly sexy. So sexy it made her heart thunder in her chest, made her breathing short.

  The lash of his tongue had her eyelids fluttering, had sensation shooting straight to her clit and beyond as a wild, ragged cry left her lips. When his fingers moved to the snap and zipper of her pants, she was more than eager to help him with his own as well.

  Her fingers tore at the metal tabs of his leather riding pants as the zipper of hers slid down. She gasped for air as he took her lips in a kiss, his tongue licking along hers as his fingers slid into the parted material, eased lower, and threaded through the silky curls between her thighs.

  Lilly froze, tried to catch her breath. Her eyes widened, stared into his, and in the next second fluttered closed again as his fingers found and captured the tight little bud of her clitoris.

  Callused fingertips circled, rubbed, and stimulated the sensitive bundle of flesh. Arcs of pleasure tore through her pussy as her juices rushed to coat the swollen folds beyond to tempt his fingers to touch lower, to stroke inside her.

  “I dream about this,” he growled against her lips as he gave her a moment to breathe. “Touching your sweet pussy again, feeling it quiver beneath my fingers, feeling your pretty clit swell with hunger.”

  Heat flushed her face at the explicit words while her pussy creamed harder. She wanted his fingers inside her. She wanted him to take her, to ease the hard knot of hunger tightening in her womb.

  Her hips arched closer, forcing his fingers lower along the narrow slit he was caressing. Lifting her leg, she managed to get him a little closer.

  He chuckled, a breath of male hunger and amusement, as his fingers rubbed over the clenched entrance.

  “This what you want, Lilly?” he crooned against her ear as one finger slipped in just enough to tease, just enough to give her a taste of the pleasure she was reaching for. Just enough to tease her into whimpering and arching her hips higher for more.

  A shudder tore through her as he rubbed at the clenched, tight muscles of her vagina. The pad of his finger rubbed in tiny circles, moved in short, easy strokes. His lips moved back to her nipples, his tongue licked and stroked, and Lilly was certain she was going to melt to the floor with the incredible pleasure racing through her and the imperative need for more.

  “I can make it better, Lilly,” he whispered before nipping at the sensitive tip of her breast.

  “What’s stopping you?” she cried out breathlessly. “Make it better. I dare you.”

  Let him see if she tried to stop him. God, she wanted more so damned bad she was on the verge of begging for it.

  “You dare me, do you?” A quick, heated lick of her nipple had her jerking in reflexive pleasure.

  “Double-dare you,” she gasped.

  His finger moved, retreated, only to return thicker, stronger, stretching the sensitive portal of her pussy as her neck arched and a low, ragged cry tore from her lips.

  A fiery aching pleasure centered in the very core of her, convulsing through her womb as she almost, almost reached that peak she was searching for.

  She was so close. Right there on the verge.

  “Mr. Caine, we have company.” A harsh, rough voice spoke from the other room. It sounded as though it came from a wild creature, one whose vocal ability was still more animal than man.

  Travis jerked against her, his hard body suddenly tense and prepared for battle rather than focused entirely on her.

  “Who is it, Nik?” he snarled.

  “I do believe it’s the girl’s uncle,” the “Nik” in question answered. His voice, though lower, was no less rough. “He’s demanding to speak with you.”

  Demanding. Yes, that sounded like her uncle, but he’d picked a hell of a time to demand anything.

  Staring back at Travis, her body aching in regret, she watched, felt the complete distance he placed between them.

  “Would you like to freshen up before facing him?” he asked, his hand gesturing toward a guest bathroom. “Make yourself at home.”

  He fixed his pants, tucked in his shirt. Within seconds the only outward sign of passion was the slight flush to his cheeks and the glitter of green in his brown eyes.

  Lilly stepped back. She wanted to know why her uncle was there, but she had a feeling she would learn much more if they both believed she was occupied.

  Lilly knew the fine art of pretending to give what was wanted. It was one of the first lessons her mother had taught her.

  She had excelled.

  Chapter 4

  travis stepped into the reception room. The room was off a small foyer at the wide front door, marble-floored, the furniture less than comfortable but sleekly modern. Nik had had the butler light the fire, which glowed with cozy warmth in the huge fireplace. It did little to warm the cold appearance of the room though.

  “Mr. Harrington.” Travis stepped into the room casually, displaying the lazy, almost insolent grace he had brought to the persona he had been given.

  He didn’t extend his ha
nd; an insult, he knew, to a man considered near royalty in England. Desmond Harrington was a lord of the realm as well as a member of the House of Lords now that he had acquired the Harrington title. He was a powerful, dignified figure, despite the fact that he looked more like an American thug.

  His red hair was cut close to his scalp. His mustache grew long down the side of his lips and beneath his chin to meet a sparse beard in a wide goatee. The rest of the beard was trimmed closer to the face and gave him a scruffy appearance, while the minute lines on his forehead and at the corners of his eyes, along with the hollowed appearance of his cheeks, spoke of a rough-hewn determination.

  Blue eyes watched Travis with a hint of anger, his lower lip tight with disapproval as he moved to the couch across from the chair Travis had taken.

  Behind him was his bodyguard, and Travis almost laughed when the he recognized the man. Amazing that a man suspected of terrorist ties and international loan-sharking would have a bodyguard known better for his sense of fair play and honor than he was for his brutality.

  “Mr. Caine.” Desmond hitched his slacks with an angry jerk of his hands before taking his seat with regal arrogance. “I won’t take up much of your time. Produce my niece and I’ll leave.”

  Travis arched his brow as he sensed Nik moving in closer behind him.

  The butler, Henry, balding, under six feet, but more than capable of providing any backup they needed, entered the room and went over to the bar.

  “Would you gentlemen like a drink?” Travis asked Desmond as the other man glared at him.

  “My niece, if you don’t mind.” The precise English accent was clipped and demanding.

  “She’s in the powder room.” Travis shrugged. “You know how long such things can take. I suggest you relax for a bit and we can chat.”

  “I have nothing to chat about with the likes of you.” Self-importantly, he lifted his rather heavy nose in the air as though he smelled something offensive.

  Travis chuckled. “Ah, I have to say you’re quite wrong there,” he retorted. “We have quite a bit to discuss. I want my Lilly back.”

  It was kind of funny to be “playing” Lilly’s lover when he actually was her lover. Except there was nothing the least bit humorous about the situation.

  “Lilly Belle no longer exists,” Desmond hissed as he nearly came out of his chair, his face flushing brick red in anger. “She is Lady Victoria Lillian Harrington. Period. She is related to royalty and her station does not allow her to be your toy any longer.”

  Travis’s brow arched. “That’s Lilly’s choice to make, not yours.”

  “She no longer remembers you. She will never remember those years she has lost. The doctors are certain of that. Leave her be, man. Allow her the life she was born to live,” her uncle demanded.

  “The life she ran from?” Travis asked as he leaned forward. “She was nearly killed living your life, as I remember it. Lilly left voluntarily. She didn’t return with the same mind-set. She’s back, not because she wanted to be, but because once again someone tried to kill her and she forgot she was running. So don’t presume to preach to me about the life that she should be living, or the reputation she should be cultivating.”

  “Victoria belongs with her family,” Desmond snapped. “No matter how you twist the truth, you are nothing but a danger to her.”

  Travis laughed. “She created the danger in her life as I’m certain your investigator told you. Do you think her enemies aren’t well aware that she’s now Lady Victoria Lillian Harrington? Do you honestly believe her past isn’t going to return to bite her on the ass?”

  He was the concerned past lover. He was the man that knew her secrets better than any other. He was the man her family was going to have to accept whether they wanted to or not.

  “Leave it alone,” Desmond fired back. “I can take care of any repercussions if you’ll walk the hell away.”

  “And what repercussions would that be, Uncle Desmond?” Lilly stepped into the room.

  Travis knew the creature Lilly Belle was. Silent, stealthy, but too damned curious. She was known for her inability to keep her nose out of danger. Even within the Ops her reputation was fairly solid in that regard.

  She stepped into the room, obviously surprising her uncle with her clothing, as well as her demeanor.

  Desmond Harrington rose to his feet, shoved his hands in the pockets of his slacks.

  “I have the limo outside,” he stated, his tone grating. “We need to leave, Lilly.”

  A smooth, negligent shrug of her shoulders was the first indication Travis saw of the agent he once knew. Lilly pursed her lips thoughtfully as she propped her hands on her hips and surveyed the room silently for long moments.

  “You said you didn’t know anything about where I’ve been or what I’ve been doing for the past six years,” she told her uncle. “You lied to me.”

  A dark frown creased Desmond’s brow. “At the time, I had no idea,” he bit out, his tone icily angry now. “If you recall, I informed you I would hire investigators to pursue the subject. Their report came in weeks ago.”

  “And I wasn’t told?” She leaned a shapely hip against the back of the couch Travis sat in. A move that Desmond clearly understood. Lilly Belle was in the room right now.

  “Could we discuss this at home?” Desmond demanded. “With your mother present, if you don’t mind, rather than with this gentleman.” He made the last word sound like a curse.

  “Funny, Uncle Desmond,” she mused then. “Your investigators know so much now, but they didn’t find me in the six years I was missing?”

  His expression became pinched. “We believed there was no way you could have survived that explosion,” he answered. “You were declared dead when no evidence of your whereabouts could be found.”

  “And now my whereabouts are known,” she drawled, her tone cold.

  “Once we had your new . . . ,” he looked uncomfortable, “identity was rather easy.”

  Travis wanted to shoot the bastard.

  He rose slowly to his feet and moved to the bar. All the while he kept his gaze on Lilly’s face through the large mirror on the other side of the room.

  “This gentleman, as you call him, seems to know more about me than you or Mother,” she informed him, her tone calm and quiet as she moved from the couch.

  That wasn’t a good sign. A nice calm tone from Lilly Belle was usually something to be wary of.

  Desmond grimaced. “And I know more about him than he can imagine. He’s not the sort of person you want in your life, Lilly.”

  “I think I’ve always been able to make that decision on my own, Uncle Desmond,” she reminded him, her smile tight now.

  Damn, good ole Uncle Desmond was really starting to piss her off now. And he seemed to realize that. Travis was almost amused.

  Travis watched as the other man took careful control of himself and attempted to repair the damage.

  “I regret I haven’t given you the information I received,” he stated, and there seemed to be sincere regret in his tone. “The psychologist you were seeing in the hospital suggested it might be best that you remember certain things on your own. In the interests of your health, we elected to wait.” He cast Travis and Nik a harsh glare. “Victoria, please . . .”

  “Lilly,” she informed him, the quick, sharp tone of her voice drawing a reaction from her, as well as surprise from Desmond. “Please, call me Lilly.”

  Travis cast the other man a tight smile of victory. She was Lilly Belle, Lady Victoria Harrington be damned.

  “Lilly.” Desmond obviously didn’t approve of the name. “Please, dear. Let’s return to the house, and we’ll discuss this. The limo is waiting outside.”

  “I brought the bike. I’ll follow you back.”

  Desmond frowned, obviously caught off
guard. “What bike?”

  “My motorcycle,” she stated, watching him carefully now. Travis could feel the tension radiating from her now.

  Desmond shook his head. “You have no such thing.”

  “Really, I do.” She strode across the room. “I’ll meet you at home.” Pausing at the door, she turned back to Travis. “I’ll be in touch.”

  “I’m certain I’ll enjoy the experience,” he taunted her, to remind her of the few stolen moments they’d had in the kitchen.

  Amusement gleamed in her green eyes before she pushed through the kitchen door and, he knew, strode to the garage.

  “Henry, make certain the garage door is open for her,” he ordered the butler as he hovered silently on the other side of the room. “And make certain Miss Harrington has access to the house whenever she wishes.”

  “Very good, sir.” Henry nodded stiffly and followed her.

  Travis turned back to Desmond. He was watching the door with a sense of bemusement, as though the woman that had stepped through it were a stranger rather than the niece he had once been rumored to love.

  “She’s not the woman you lost six years ago,” Travis reminded him quietly. “Try to turn her into that woman and you’ll make an enemy of her.”

  Her uncle turned back to him slowly. “If I allow you to have your way, she’ll remain one step above a criminal,” he said hollowly. “Or slip those final inches and be lost to us forever.”

  “Lord Harrington, I didn’t return to destroy Lilly’s life, I returned to save it,” Travis informed him.

  Desmond grunted rudely. “Your past actions do not speak of your desire to save her. Training in demolitions and explosives. Military and martial arts training in Asia for eighteen months while conducting so-called ventures into pirate-held territories. And that doesn’t count the dozens of near arrests, near fatal crashes, and God only knows how much weapons fire she’s faced while she’s played your whore.” By the time he finished his face was bloodred, his blue eyes snapping with rage, and his accent more clipped than usual.