He snapped his eyes shut, blocking the sight. If he played the voyeur much longer, he might rush out there and drag her from the car. He counted to ten, dredging for control and deeper again for patience.
Catch-22. Damned if he did and damned if he didn’t.
His eyes opened again. Ah, that was better. He loosened his grip on the windowsill and flexed his fingers.
The passenger door opened, and she slipped from the car. Nikolai’s heart thudded anxiously. Was Martin going to stay at Henry’s tonight?
The car started, and Nikolai released the breath. Every instinct screamed at him to go to her, but he didn’t.
She was safe.
Best he keep his distance, or else they’d really be in trouble.
Chapter Five
Summer hummed softly as she padded around the kitchen. She plugged in the coffeemaker and poured a spoon of batter into a hot frying pan. The melted butter sizzled as the pancake mix hit the pan, and the scent of freshly ground beans filled the air along with the audible drip, drip, drip of the coffee into the carafe.
A thump on the front door brought a frown.
“Come in,” she called.
Once the small air bubbles in the batter started to pop, she deftly flipped the pancake to cook the other side.
“The front door wasn’t locked.”
She grimaced. Nikolai, of course. “And a good morning to you too.”
“The front door wasn’t locked.” His voice rose to a dull roar.
She sighed, removed the pan from the heat and turned to face his wrath. “I heard you the first time.”
“This isn’t Eketahuna.”
Summer glanced out the kitchen window at the gulls flying lazily over the estuary. “It’s not crime central either.”
“You had a break-in the other night. God.” He dragged a hand through his hair, negating his prior use of a comb.
He looked…sexy and very jumpable with that just-out-of-bed look and the dark stubble shading his jaw.
“Are you listening to me?”
Oops. He was starting to sound like her brothers. Best she pay attention. “Sure, I’m listening. The door wasn’t unlocked all night. I’ve been out for a walk this morning.” She picked up a plate and slid the pancake from the pan. “It’s a lovely day. Want breakfast?”
“Stop changing the subject.”
Okay, so he was a bit smarter than her brothers, but that didn’t mean he could boss her around. “I realize you’re watching out for me, but you don’t have to guard me 24/7. I’m not stupid. The door was locked while I was out last night. The door was locked overnight. Subject closed. Would you like some breakfast?”
He scowled. “Is that coffee I smell?”
“Sure is. Help yourself while I finish cooking the pancakes. Do you know where the cups are?”
“Yeah.”
She turned back to the stove. Funny, since his arrival, edgy awareness replaced her prior cheery satisfaction. Her heart raced, her mouth felt as dry as unconditioned hair and her nerves twitched. The sensation was quite different to what she experienced when she was with Dare. Interesting. She peeked over her shoulder, took a second to admire his jean-encased butt then flipped her pancake. What was it about this man that made her thoughts turn to sex?
She knew without even thinking that becoming more involved with Nikolai was a mistake. He was bossy, and she’d trade one prison for another.
“Do you want coffee too?”
He spoke from right behind her and she started. The man prowled, creeping up on a woman without warning. She sucked in a deep breath to resettle. “Please. White, no sugar.”
Summer turned her attention back to cooking. Pour, cook, flip. Simple, except if your hands shook. The bubbles popped, and she flipped too vigorously. The pancake landed half in the pan and half on the element.
“Damn.” She tried to retrieve the pancake without mangling it too much.
“Can I help?”
Summer whirled to nail him with a glare. “Quit sneaking up on me. You’re not on maneuvers now.” She used her spatula to point at a wooden chair. “Sit.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Stop that. What are you doing here anyway? I thought all you needed was a visual.”
The man squirmed—he actually stirred uneasily and refused to meet her gaze. Her antenna shot to high alert.
“What?” Summer tapped her right foot on the lino floor. Slap, slap, slap.
A trace of red appeared high on his cheekbones. She would’ve bet his ears had turned red as well, but since his hair covered them, she couldn’t confirm. He rolled his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. His attempt at casual didn’t fool her.
She advanced on him, waving her spatula like a weapon. “What have you done?”
His broad chest lifted as he dragged in air and momentarily distracted her. She mined her imagination for ideas on what he’d look like without the body-fitting T-shirt, but when she felt the lick of heat through her body, she called up something cold. Icy cold to cool the latent heat that shot to her pussy.
She needed to check out some toys since she refused to jump into bed with just anyone to soothe a healthy sex drive. Well, at least, she thought she was normal. With two guard-dog brothers, a sex life was downright difficult.
“I called in a few favors to get the clothes—ah, Martin investigated.”
“You did what?” The end of her sentence came out as a shriek, but she was too incensed to care. “Why?” She waved the spatula in front of his nose and missed by a whisker.
He erupted from his chair, grabbed her upper arms and wrestled the implement from her grip. Incensed, she kicked him in the shin. Hard.
The next minute, she was plastered against his chest with both of them breathing harshly. Her breasts squashed against the planes of his chest, and the slumbering inferno inside her roared to life again. Her nipples peaked against her silky shirt. The physical reaction brought irritation at herself. She fought to escape, squirming and wriggling.
“Let go.” The brute. How dare he manhandle her? How dare he interfere in her private life? Her love life was none of his business.
He settled the dispute by yanking her even closer so she felt every muscle in his body, all the way down. She froze and mortified color heated her cheeks. She would not look down. She would not look down.
Summer looked down.
His cock bulged in his jeans, showing she wasn’t the only one with a sexual appetite. A gasp escaped, and the fiery heat in her face escalated.
He chuckled—a smug masculine sound. “Yeah. Now, if I let you go, are you going to behave yourself?”
She gave a clipped nod, and he loosened his hold. She promptly balled her hand into a fist and plowed it into his stomach. The air exploded from his lungs with a satisfying hiss.
“That’s for being nosy,” she snapped.
An instant later, she was plastered against his muscular frame. His lips moved and she realized he was speaking. She tried to hold on to her righteous anger, tried to concentrate, but she had trouble ripping her gaze from his beautiful lips. Heck, who’d have thought she’d find his mouth so interesting, since it mostly growled at her.
“Are you listening?”
Her head wobbled with the force of his shake. “It’s a little difficult if I can’t breathe. I’m starting to feel light-headed.” It was his proximity. His cock dug into her belly. Gave a woman all sorts of interesting ideas. She traced his lips with her gaze. Would they feel soft? Hard? Or somewhere in between? Did she dare kiss him? All in the name of research, of course.
Summer stretched up on tiptoe even as she formulated the thought and pressed her lips to his. He froze, and she laughed inside, delighting in his reaction.
Flummoxed.
A surprised big, bad SAS man.
Her arms crept behind his head, her fingers running through the silky strands of his hair. He groaned and took over the kiss. Which was a good thing since she’d reached
the upper limits of her experience.
She felt the steady thud-thud-thud of his heart. His hands smoothed their way from her upper arms to cup her face, and she realized she was no longer held captive, that she remained plastered against him of her own volition.
His tongue flicked across the seam of her lips, traced her bottom lip, her top. Corny though it was, fireworks exploded behind her closed eyes. Bright flashes of orange and blue, electric yellow and fiery red burst inside her mind.
“Open your mouth,” he murmured, low and husky.
Oh, yeah. That’s what Miranda magazine had recommended. She surrendered to the suggestion and tasted the vanilla spice of her favorite coffee along with the heady taste of him. His tongue delved into her mouth, thrusting and parrying then retreating.
Summer trembled. Lordy. Miranda knew their stuff. This was absolutely the best part…so far. She tried to recall the next step, but it was too difficult to concentrate. Going with the flow seemed easier.
Nikolai froze when she moaned. Hell, he had his tongue down her throat. How the hell had that happened? He eased back, but wasn’t able to stop himself having another quick sample of her top lip. Hell, she tasted good. She felt good too—soft in all the right places. No bony hips on this woman. Just lots of luscious curves…
He dived in for one last kiss before he eased away with regret. His gaze lingered on her lips. They were red and glistened from his kisses. For a moment, he was tempted to shove away good sense and kiss her again, then guilt let rip with a swift kick to his conscience.
Get a visual, Henry had said. So what did he do? He went one better and copped a feel.
Fuck.
Age wasn’t just slowing down his body. It was doing something nasty to his brain.
He plastered his hands firmly to his sides. “I…ah…”
Summer sauntered over to the stove. As he studied the sway of her hips, he tried to untangle the knots in his tongue.
Apologize.
Promise her it wouldn’t happen again.
She turned to beam at him. The knots in his tongue turned on themselves, creating double knots. In the end, he gave up, and watched her instead. He’d never been one for talking anyhow. He was the action type.
“You ready for the pancakes?”
“Yeah. Thanks.” Had she forgiven his nosing around in the clotheshorse’s background? He studied her carefully. Her mouth wore a soft, sexy smile but when their gazes collided, he noted a steely hardness in her blue eyes.
The same expression he witnessed in his own mirror when about to embark on a mission—determination and the grit necessary to get the job done. Nikolai broke the connection. He wasn’t going to bring up Martin first. He’d wait for her to raise the subject.
He hobbled to the sturdy wooden table at the far end of the kitchen and sat on the closest chair, glad to take the weight off his knee. He picked up his coffee mug. The table bore a cloth these days. One of Veronica’s little touches, along with pots of herbs on the windowsills. Henry’s life was in for more changes, but somehow Nikolai didn’t think he’d worry. He’d never seen a man so smitten.
Summer pulled a heaped plate of pancakes from the oven.
“Do you want me to set the table?”
“No, stay there.”
She was pure feline grace as she strolled toward him. A groan built in his throat. Fuck, he was toast if Henry discovered he’d stuck his tongue down her throat. And perish the thought if he ever learned of his latest fantasies.
The plate of pancakes dropped lightly to the table, then another platter of crispy bacon. She turned away and headed for the pantry. Her hips swayed in a pert wiggle that made him desperate to explore those curves in greater detail. She returned with a jar of maple syrup and caught him in the act. Instead of acting flustered, or shy or embarrassed, she winked.
Winked, by God.
His brain changed from park to drive in two seconds flat, and he half rose from his chair. A second later, he hit reverse with a loud shriek of brakes. He dropped back to the padded cushion with a soft thud. Something akin to shock ricocheted through the rational part of his mind.
Summer was years younger than him—still a babe in terms of experience. He had no business kissing her, no business lusting after her. Every relationship in his life so far, from the parental one to Laura had failed. Hell, even his latest mission. It was best if he didn’t leave the starting gates this time. In the future, the visuals he’d promised Henry would suffice. He’d treat Summer Williams like a no-fire zone and keep his hands off.
But even as he made the decision, he couldn’t tear his gaze from the sway of her hips under the black denim skirt, and before he even gave it a second thought, his gaze moved on to her rounded breasts. Whoa—no bra.
Someone ought to give that girl a good talking to. He swallowed, opened his mouth and shut it again so quickly his teeth clunked. He averted his gaze. He was not going there. He’d eat breakfast, say his piece about Martin and leave her to do what she would with the intel.
After Summer brought up the subject.
She slid an empty white plate in front of him and handed over a knife and fork. She dropped into the chair opposite and stretched out her legs under the table.
Nikolai jolted at the brush of her limbs and thanked God he hadn’t gone with a pair of shorts. He resettled his legs and exhaled.
“Bacon?”
He nodded. Instead of handing him the plate, she speared a piece of bacon with a fork and leaned toward him to place it on his plate. Her flimsy blouse gaped at the neck, exposing creamy curves. Spectacular, mature curves with dusky nipples. His gaze fixed with superglue intensity. A whoosh of heat suffused his body, muscles tightened all over, in places that had no business reacting. His cock ached as blood pooled low, priming him for action.
“Ah, that…that’s enough bacon.”
She beamed, an innocent siren’s smile that wound his insides so tight he thought he might shatter.
“How many pancakes?”
Nikolai nodded.
The siren’s smile brightened, beckoning him closer, luring him and creating havoc of his earlier resolutions. Damn, he wanted to play so much his hands shook.
She laughed softly. “I’ll give you two to start with.”
This time she picked up a pair of tongs and deftly transferred the pancakes to his plate. He caught another glimpse of her breasts, and his dick tightened with painful intensity.
He grasped the wrist holding the tongs. “Stop it.”
“What?” The smile that bloomed was innocent, but the glint in her blue eyes didn’t come close.
Nikolai’s gaze was snared again by the rise and fall of her breasts. “You know what I mean,” he snapped. “Don’t do it.”
Ohhh! This was fun. Summer fought the blooming grin with all she had. His hand shackled her wrist, holding her firm, yet he tempered his strength, not inflicting pain. She stared into the swirling depths of his dark eyes. Her breasts tingled when she faced the stormy heat burning in his gaze. She moistened her bottom lip, reliving the taste of him, the sensation of his mouth against hers.
Then she closed one eye in another wink. “Would you like syrup with that?”
Nikolai swore, his curse another original. She took mental note to keep it for the next time her brothers tried to interfere in her life.
“Martin’s family is involved in crime.” The statement was delivered in a flat tone as he released her wrist. He leaned back in his chair and waited.
“A crime family? What do you mean?”
“His family fronts an organized crime ring. Stay away from Martin. He’s bad news.” He picked up the bottle of maple syrup, drizzled it over his pancakes and calmly began to eat.
Summer blinked. She should be angry, but he wouldn’t make up this stuff. Truth and honor radiated from him. She glanced at his bent head and frowned as he crunched on crispy bacon. “Nikolai, I’m not stupid. If I had the slightest clue Dare was involved in something illegal, I�
�d run a mile. You can’t tell me he’s part of a crime family and not give me details. Spill.”
“You told me not to interfere.” He cut into his pancakes with a precise incision that would have done a surgeon proud. His jaw moved as he chewed stoically, ignoring her questions.
Her hands tingled with a mighty urge to hit him or at least seize him by the shirt and give him a good shake until answers spilled forth. Cripes, and men thought women were unpredictable. She reached over and made a grab for his hands. “Stop.”
Dark brows rose, but he didn’t pretend innocence. “I can’t tell you where I got the intel, but the source is good.”
She gritted her teeth. Shaking was looking good. “What else did they say?”
“Rumor is that Martin has taken over from his father and is intent on putting his stamp on the business.”
“He’s a restaurateur. The family owns several restaurants in the Auckland region.”
Nikolai picked up his knife and fork. “Good places to launder money.”
“All right. Say the rumors are true. Why haven’t the police done anything?”
“Because they’re too clever to get caught.”
An idea sprouted. She tossed it around, considered it from several angles and decided it was a keeper. “I wonder if the police have anyone undercover.”
His eating utensils clunked onto his plate. His hand whipped out to snare her right wrist and her attention. “Don’t even think it. It’s a damn-fool idea.”
“But if the man’s a criminal—”
“No.” His eyes were hard, his expression flat.
Big, bad SAS man mode. She glanced pointedly at her shackled wrist. “Are you going to let me go any time soon?”
Nikolai dropped her wrist as if he’d been scorched by fire. “Henry should have locked you up. Throwing away the key would’ve worked too.”
Summer glared back. “He did the next best thing—he gave me you.” And thank the Lord he did. Teasing Nikolai got the adrenaline going, her own personal energy drink.
Nikolai scowled. “So we’re agreed. You’re not going to see Martin again.”
Military Men Page 5