Spies, Lies and Lovers

by Sally Tyler Hayes

“I do. I’ve already made up my mind, and I think you have, too. Before you leave here, we’re going to be together.”

  “You’re outrageous,” she said.

  “Why? What’s outrageous about wanting to make love to you? You’re gorgeous—”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Fishing?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Geri, you nearly gave me a heart attack in that leather miniskirt.”

  “It was the outfit.”

  “I could look at a little leather skirt all day and not get all hot and bothered. Believe me, it was you in it.”

  “Alex, you don’t have to do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “Say these things about me.”

  “Why wouldn’t I? They’re true. I find you incredibly attractive.”

  “You’re just lonely,” she said. “And I’m here.”

  “No way. I could have a woman hanging on each arm and I’d still look at you and think you were attractive. I’d still want to drag you off to my bed.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “My pleasure, I’m sure. No thanks necessary.”

  “You’re incorrigible, Alex,” she complained. “Do you ever take anything seriously?”

  “Not today. Come on. Get on the bike.”

  She did, taking off with him on his motorcycle with no idea where they were going or what he might do to her when they got there. And just like the last time, she didn’t care in the least She just wished he would never stop.

  They rode for hours, seeing nothing but the barren, colorless, mostly flat plains, dotted infrequently with oil derricks and windmills. No people. No roads. No cars. No houses. Nothing but her and Alex and the bike.

  He stopped around midday and they hiked up a majestic butte, to a point where they could see for miles in every direction. He spread a blanket on the ground, and they lay on their backs in the hot spring sunshine, and they played a silly game of Twenty Questions, steering clear of any weighty issues. She knew his favorite color was yellow, that he loved basketball and thought major-league baseball was the most boring sport ever invented. She told him her main weaknesses were sad movies, very expensive chocolate and Ireland—she thought Ireland was the most beautiful place on earth. He told her a bit more about his sisters—silly little things—and she told him funny stories about the different places she’d lived and things she’d seen.

  She didn’t want the day ever to end, but all good things, she knew, did. Alex climbed back on the bike, and she settled herself against him once again. The engine rumbled and the bike vibrated, her body sinking into his. She’d never known riding a bike could be so intimate, so erotic.

  They rode for a long, long time. She tried to be good, to be smart, but it was beyond her at the moment. She had to hang on to him; she had no choice if she wanted to stay on the bike. And she tried to keep it from being personal, but he just wouldn’t leave her alone. He took her palm and spread it flat against his abdomen, tugged on her arm to bring her more fully against him. His stomach was flat His skin when he tugged up his shirt and pushed her hand inside was hot to the touch.

  She thought about letting that hand roam at will, thought about exploring every inch of him while they rode. No one would ever know, she realized. Just him and her. It sounded so wicked. Geri had never done anything wicked in her life. How had she gotten to be almost thirty and so cautious, so careful, so ignorant of sexual need that she’d never even been wicked?

  Unlike Alex. Alex was the embodiment of “wicked.”

  She turned her head sideways and laid it against his broad back, daring to snuggle a bit closer. Her thighs were spread wide to either side of his denim-clad hips. Tentatively, she laid her hand against the pocket of his jeans and rubbed her palm along the length of his thigh.

  She felt him stiffen at her touch, then laugh.

  “Didn’t think you had it in you, Geri,” he said.

  She took her hand away.

  He put it right back. “Go ahead. Explore all you want.”

  Could it be that easy? she wondered. Yes. With him, it would be, if she could silence every bit of common sense in her head.

  She spread her fingers wide over one pocket at the back of his jeans, rubbing in slow circles, taking in the back of his thigh—the long, broad muscle there. Then her hand slid up the front of his thigh, so firm, so hard. Oh.

  She wanted to touch him intimately, to stroke him. It was shocking, really, how much she wanted to do that. And she wondered what he’d do if she did. Probably stop the bike, pull her off and throw her onto the ground and take her, right there. The image set her heart to thundering.

  “Go ahead,” Alex said. “I dare you.”

  “You would,” she retorted.

  “You’re just touching me. What’s wrong with that?”

  “Alex—”

  He put his hand over hers and pulled hers upward. It slid over denim, worn smooth and soft. She felt a satisfying little hitch in his breath, felt her body seem to shoot to life, awareness like a palpable thing between them. She felt feverish and achy and so very needy, wondering how it was possible to feel so very much, so many different things, all at once. And to feel them so urgently, so completely. To need him this much.

  His hand pushed hers to a spot near the juncture of his thighs where tension had pulled the fabric tight over a hard, rounded bulge. She couldn’t help but explore, tracing its length, its fullness, feeling it shift and grow beneath her hand.

  The bike shot forward, and he was trembling, she realized. She loved the idea that she could make him tremble with need. She shifted restlessly against his back, trying to get closer. It was impossible. She was already plastered against him, but still she wanted more. So she kept doing what she was doing, finding it exciting beyond belief, simply touching him. She felt powerful and wanton and wicked, and she liked it. Damn, he made her like it all, want it all, need it all, so very much.

  She shuddered, heat pooling between her thighs, desire raging out of control. She wanted to kiss him, too. She looked up, searching for skin, saw the back of his neck. He’d drawn his hair into a ponytail again, and she pressed her lips to the sun-browned skin at the nape of his neck. It was hot, tasted slightly of sweat, but mostly of man. Then she put her lips against his ear and said, “This is crazy, Alex. Crazy.”

  “Uh-hmm,” he said, sounding totally unconcerned.

  She closed her eyes, relaxed against him once again. She absolutely loved touching him.

  It might have been seconds or minutes later when the bike rumbled to a stop. He put his feet down to brace them and pulled her around until she was sitting on the seat in front of him, practically on his lap, with his arms tightly around her, his wicked mouth coming down to hers, taking it in a kiss positively steamy and dripping with sexual innuendo. His tongue thrust into her mouth, again and again, until she was absolutely limp with need for him, beyond caring about anything, it seemed.

  And when he finally lifted his head, she saw that they’d made it back to the cabin, and he was ready to finish what they’d started.

  “Don’t get scared on me,” he said. “I’m not going to pounce on you the second I have you inside the door, tempting as that may be.”

  “Oh, Alex,” she said hopelessly.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get out of the sun, at least.”

  She let him lead her inside. He grabbed a drink of water, offered her one as well, and they gulped it down. She couldn’t help but look over that long, lean body she’d touched so intimately. He was still breathing hard, still looking impossibly strong and tall, still obviously aroused.

  He caught her staring, a sinful smile on his face. “I think I need a shower,” he said. “A cold one. And you need to think, Geri. Do me a favor. Before you lay a hand on me again, decide just how far you want this to go.”

  She glanced up at him, guiltily. “I don’t do this, Alex.”

  “Do what?”

  “Have sex with people I
barely know.”

  “Neither do I,” he claimed.

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “It’s true.”

  She made a sound of disgust.

  “What? You think I make a habit of picking up women in that bar and riding off into the night with them, hoping I’ll find their hands all over me before we’re through?”

  “I think you’ve been with a lot of women.”

  “I don’t know,,” he said. “I didn’t exactly keep a list. How many’s a lot?”

  “Forget it. I don’t want to know.”

  “No. Wait a minute. I’ll tell you. I need to tell you. I haven’t had a lot of luck with women when it comes to long-term relationships. They tend to come and go. I tend to come and go. I’ll admit it. I don’t know if it’s me or if I just haven’t found anyone who’s made me want to stay. It just always seems to fizzle out and die.”

  Geri nodded. She knew that.

  “But I don’t lie to them,” he claimed. “I’m up-front about it. I’ve not been looking to make a commitment to anyone, beyond being faithful to her for as long as we’re together. And I’m sure as hell not in a position to offer you anything except today. Tonight. That’s it, Geri. After that, you’ve got to go. I’ll help you find a place. But you’ve got to go.”

  “What do you mean, you’ll help me?”

  “You need a place to hide out. From the man who did that to you.” He touched a hand to the bruise on the inside of her upper arm.

  “Yes,” she said, though she’d forgotten all about that woman, all about anything but him and her and taking off on the bike and never coming back, never even slowing down.

  “I can help you.”

  “I don’t know if I can let you do that, Alex,” she lied. God, she hated the lies. “He’s dangerous.”

  He winked at her, looking totally unconcerned. “I live for danger.”

  Did he? Was this some kind of game for him? Could he be enjoying it? There was a time when she had—when there was nothing like that rush of adrenaline that came from doing something incredibly dangerous, and doing it well.

  Not anymore.

  “God, you look so sad.” he said. “I don’t want you to be sad anymore, Geri. Or scared.”

  “It matters to you?” she asked.

  He nodded, and she wanted to believe him. All along, she’d wanted to believe him.

  “So,” he said. “You don’t have anyplace to go? No relatives? No friends?”

  She shook her head. “Not anymore.”

  “Dan?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “I know somebody who’ll help you. Somebody I trust. I won’t lie to you. It’s not without risks—”

  “Risks?”

  “Because of me,” he claimed. “I’m in the middle of something, something bad. Otherwise, I wouldn’t let you go. Not after one night.”

  “Really?” she asked, like some needy little woman, desperate for reassurance. She hated the whole idea of needing or wanting anyone this much. Especially him, when she knew better.

  Stupid, pointless tears stung her eyes, and she had that sensation once again of literally drowning in emotion, in the moment. Everything was so intense, so vivid, so real. It was as if all her life, she’d been in some sort of cocoon, somehow removed from everything, isolated, standing back from life in an effort to protect herself, and now it had just dissolved. She had no protection at all.

  “Oh, baby,” he said, reaching for her. “Don’t cry.”

  “I’m not a baby,” she protested, though she did let him take her in his arms. “I’m a grown woman, and I don’t need any man to protect me.”

  “So sue me,” he murmured, kissing her. “I want to protect you.”

  “Dammit,” she said.

  He laughed. “Do you always fight so hard against the things you want? Against the things that feel good? Things that would be good?”

  “I don’t know, Alex. Nothing ever felt this good,” she confessed miserably. “Or this bad. This wrong.”

  “Why? Why is it so wrong?”

  And there was nothing else she could tell him, nothing but more lies, and she was sick of those. So she just let him hold her, comfort her, let her feel safe and secure, which was crazy. How could she feel so secure in his arms, knowing who he was, what he was? But maybe that was the answer. Maybe she knew, and that was why it felt right to be with him. Maybe it was all some terrible mistake—the explosives and his escape and what had happened to Doc. Maybe he hadn’t done it. Maybe he simply wasn’t the man she’d thought.

  God, she wanted to believe that. More than she’d ever wanted anything in her life, she wanted him to be the man she’d come to know, to want. She wanted him to be funny and tender and kind and oh, so sexy.

  He was, she thought. He’d shown her nothing but that, the entire, intense twenty-four hours or so they’d spent together. All he’d shown her was tenderness, kindness, and the kind of desire that was driving her mad.

  “I do want you, Alex,” she said.

  He rolled his eyes theatrically. “Wow. There’s a surprise.”

  She laughed too, then.

  He sobered instantly, touching his fingers to her chin. “You know something?”

  “What?”

  “That’s the first time I’ve heard you laugh. I’ve been waiting for that, wanting to make it happen. Almost as much as I want you back in my bed.”

  She paused, touched. Nobody had ever worked to make her laugh before, worked to do nothing but please her and tempt her so outrageously. No one had ever treated her like she was special.

  “I can’t quite believe this is real. That you’re real,” she said.

  He took her hand and pushed it against his chest, over his heart. It was pounding. “I’m very, very real. And I’m hot and sweaty and aching. I’m about half a second from throwing you over my shoulder, taking you into the other room and putting you down on the bed. Are you ready for that?”

  He waited, must have seen the doubts in her eyes.

  “Didn’t think so,” he said easily, shaking his head. “I’m going to get in the shower, Geri.”

  He peeled off his shut right then and there, wiping at the sweat on his forehead with it, then balling it up in his hand. Then he stood still, all gleaming skin and muscle.

  “Think about it,” he said. “Make up your mind.”

  He turned around and headed for the bathroom. She stood there in the middle of his tiny cabin, wishing with all her heart that she could leave her entire messed-up life behind and be with him, be the kind of woman who could just stay with him and explore this potent attraction between them.

  It would be totally irresponsible, and she’d never been irresponsible before. It was one in a long list of things she wanted to do for the very first time—with him.

  “It’s all your fault, Alex,” she whispered, amazed at the strength of her feelings for him, her longing.

  His bed was right in the next room. All she had to do was go and climb into it, be there waiting for him when he got out of the shower. He would take care of the rest. Guide her. Teach her. Take her.

  It would be so good. She knew it.

  To hell with guilt and duty and caution. She was so very tempted.

  She waited there, her heart pounding, her body one constant, aching need. She was a woman, after all. Didn’t all women find something like this at least once in their lives? A man who made no sense, a relationship that didn’t, either? Someone they simply couldn’t resist? Someone they knew would likely hurt them, but took them to the point where they simply didn’t care anymore?

  She didn’t want to care. She just wanted him.

  “Alex?” she said, looking up and finding him standing there dripping wet in nothing but a towel wrapped precariously around his trim hips.

  “Hmm?” he replied, arching a brow.

  “I do want you,” she said bravely.

  He smiled sinfully. “Tell me something I don’t already know, Geri.” />
  “You awful man!” she said, as he caught her close.

  “I am. I admit it.”

  “I was trying to tell you I’ve made up my mind. About... us.”

  She blushed, and he smiled at her. “Good.”

  Her hands caught at the towel at his back. “You’re going to lose this,” she warned.

  “Any minute,” he said. “If I’m lucky.”

  She leaned forward, kissing his shoulder—wet, clean, fresh-smelling skin. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

  “It’ll be good between us, Geri. You know that.”

  She nodded, hoping she wouldn’t disappoint him, feeling nervous and excited, almost giddy, now that she’d given in. She wanted him, and she was going to have him. She felt wonderfully free just admitting it to herself and to him.

  “I want a shower, too,” she said, needing a minute to catch her breath.

  “Hurry,” he told her.

  She did, her body already tingling with an awareness that was almost painful now. It was going to be perfect. She could hardly wait another second. She climbed out of the shower and donned a pair of lacy panties and another of his shirts. This time, he would take it off her.

  When she came back into the room, he had pulled out a laptop computer and was busy tapping away, concentrating on the screen. Feeling uneasy, as if stark-raving reality had just intruded into her perfect little fantasy world, she walked over to him. He slid an arm around her waist, just as he hit the send button on a message she hadn’t had time to read.

  “What was that?” she asked.

  “I needed to get a message to my brother-in-law.”

  “Oh?” she said cautiously. If he was Alex Hathaway, he had a brother-in-law.

  “I told you I was going to help you get away. I’ve got to say this one more time. I want to be absolutely clear, Geri. All I can give you is tonight, Right now. Tomorrow, you’ve got to go. It just isn’t safe for you to be here with me. It wouldn’t be fair of me to let you stay.”

  “Okay,” she said, not wanting to hear any of this and helpless to stop it.

  “There are people after me. Dangerous people. I don’t want you caught in the middle of it.”

  “Why are they after you?”

  “Because they want something I have, and I can’t let them have it”