When she finally pulled away, her eyes were clear and her expression back to normal.
“Better?” He wiped a damp strand of hair off her cheek. Even tear-stained and puffy-eyed, she was beautiful.
“Much. Sorry I freaked out there for a minute. I don’t really think you have a magic wand.”
She said it with a teasing smile that made him chuckle. “Hey, if I could control the weather, babe, I’d certainly do it for you.”
A branch bounced off the window. Wind howled. They looked at each other and Darci shuddered. It echoed through Jack’s body and he responded instantly. Holding her close like this brought yesterday’s sexual gymnastics to mind and it wouldn’t be long before his body wanted to go again. Jack stepped abruptly back, letting go of her.
“That’s just bad karma,” Darci said, not commenting on his sudden departure. “Should we stock up or something before the storm gets here?”
“That might be a good idea. Who knows how long we’ll be here.”
“Disguises again?”
“Yep, though I bought you another. Here.” He walked over to the door, picked up the bag that sat on the floor and carried it back to her. She pulled out a baseball cap that resembled his and smiled.
“We’ll be twins,” she said, putting the cap on and pulling her ponytail out the hole in the back. Her dark glasses completed the ensemble and changed her appearance completely.
“You know Jack, I have money, I can help pay for—”
He held up a hand to silence her. “Nope, none of that women’s lib stuff. It’s taken care of.”
“Thank you.” Her expression turned serious. “I wouldn’t have my grandmother’s necklace if it weren’t for you.”
“Nah, you’d have done just fine on your own. Come on, find some shoes. The stores are going to be swamped.”
****
Jack set the bags inside the door and watched Darci walk into the room and collapse on the bed. She held her head in her hands and didn’t look up when Jack sat down beside her.
“I know this is hard, Darci, but you’re safe here.”
“I know,” she murmured, head bowed.
“Want to watch some TV while I put stuff away?”
“Not the Weather Channel?”
Jack smiled. “Not the Weather Channel.” He reached for the remote, turned on the television, found a movie and turned up the volume so she couldn’t hear the wind whistling outside the balcony doors.
He got up off the bed but she caught his hand. “Wait. Sit with me for a minute?” she asked quietly and when he looked down he saw vulnerability in her eyes that cut straight to his insides.
“Sure,” he said and climbed on the bed with her, pulling her against him and propping his back against the headboard. She cuddled into his side, her head on his chest and her arm around his waist. There was nothing sexual in the position and it surprised Jack he was content to just sit there with her.
Had he ever simply enjoyed a woman’s company? Never. He’d never met a woman like her. If she’d been more comfortable with their lovemaking, he would have considered seeing her again after this was over. But he respected her and wouldn’t give her any more regrets.
“A romantic comedy,” she mused. “You’re a complex man, Jack Taggart.”
Jack grinned. “Nah, I’m a simple guy.”
Shifting her position so that she draped across his chest she said, “You are anything but simple.”
Jack’s mouth went dry. No way he read her signals right. She couldn’t possibly be interested in making love again, not after this morning. Could she?
Making light of it, he said, “Sure I am. I love food, old movies and sailing. My favorite color is green and I got straight B’s in school. The water is my second home and I love my mom. Nothing complicated about that.”
Silence, then she looked up with heat in her eyes that he hadn’t expected. He’d never been the cuddling type but with her he liked it. He certainly didn’t think she’d want him after…ah, hell, maybe she could.
“Jack?”
She had that tone and he started sweating bullets. He had to stay strong for both of them. Now wasn’t the time to be distracted by sex. Dammit, he was determined not to give her any reason to regret her time with him. Well, any more reason, that was.
Her hand slid up his chest.
Ah, hell. Get up. Move.
“Make love to me,” she whispered.
He should be running out the door. Right now. Yep, getting up right now.
Jack kissed her. He not only took her mouth, he possessed it, parting her eager lips and dipping his tongue inside the sweetness of her mouth. She met him with the same possessiveness and it ratcheted up the tension.
His vow to stay away from her flew out the window when she slid onto his lap to straddle his thighs. She needed a distraction. He hadn’t stopped wanting her, had died a slow death wondering what color lace she had on today. He knew he shouldn’t wonder, but that didn’t stop him. The mystery of what she wore beneath her clothes had him in knots.
She broke the kiss to lift up her arms so he could help her out of her shirt. It hit the floor. Jack let out a low, tortured groan. Pink. God help him. The bright colored lace beckoned him and for a moment he froze, happy to just sit there and take her in. She smelled of soap and that spicy, exotic scent that was strictly Darci. Orchids. That’s what it reminded him of. Rare, exotic orchids.
With a shaking hand he traced a path from her ear to her collarbone, watched her pupils dilate and her chest rise and fall. Her fingers dug into his shoulders. He traced the edge of lace, seeing her nipples pebble beneath his touch and her head fall back when he lowered his head to tease her through the lace. He drew a lace-covered nipple into his mouth and tightened his arm around her waist to draw her closer as she gasped in pleasure.
“Have I told you how much I love brightly colored lace?” he murmured, switching to the other side and giving it as much attention as he’d given the other. He sucked deeper, hearing Darci’s moan.
“I…don’t…ah, yes…think so. Please, don’t stop.”
“I don’t think I can,” he growled, cupping her in his hand. So perfect for him, just enough to fill his hand. If he didn’t know better he’d think she’d been made for him.
She moved restlessly on his lap and he groaned, taking her lips again in a searing kiss that left them both breathless. Her hands were under his shirt, sliding over his ribs.
“Clothes off,” she said against his mouth and together they shucked his shirt. Wind rattled the balcony doors but neither of them cared as Jack rolled Darci beneath him and removed her shorts, leaving her in nothing but pink lace.
“You are so beautiful.” He feathered his fingers down her navel, flirting with the edge of her lace panties. She raised her hips, reaching for him. He wanted to take it slow, savor her as if this were the last time, which may be true. After this there was no telling how she’d react. Though he could ignore his guilt right now, it would come back to haunt him later.
His clothes hit the floor then he was inside her, taking what he swore he didn’t want and giving her what he knew she would regret. He followed her over the edge while they looked each other in the eye.
Chapter Eleven
Darci awoke with a start. At first she thought the storm had woken her, but when she opened her eyes she realized how wrong she was.
There, on his knees, sat Jack. His lip bled and a nasty cut sliced his eyebrow and bled down his temple. His arms were behind his back, a gun aimed at his head. What happened to the bodyguard?
“Oh, God, Jack,” she cried, sitting up. She didn’t get far. A hand gripped her shoulder and pushed her back down. Too late, she remembered her nakedness when the hand slipped down and cupped her breast.
She slapped it away and looked up into Heath’s pale blue eyes.
“What have we here?” he said. “A cozy little tryst? Looks like I got here just in time.”
Darci snatched the blanket
from his hands and covered herself, scooting back against the headboard to get away from him. There were three guards with him, but no Eva.
Wind howled outside the balcony doors as the storm raged. They had nowhere to escape. She looked at Jack, saw his eye swelling shut, and her gut clenched.
She glared at Heath. “Let him go.”
Amused, he asked, “And why would I do that?”
“Because it’s not him you want.”
“Darci, no,” Jack said. She flinched when a guard hit him.
Using bravado she didn’t feel, she said, “Let him go and I’ll do whatever you want.”
“Dammit, no!”
Ignoring Jack’s explosive protest, she held Heath’s gaze, not allowing herself a shudder of distaste. She didn’t want to go anywhere with him, but she’d do it for Jack because she knew he’d come after her.
“Oh, you’re coming anyway.”
“You can’t take us anywhere with the storm.”
“I don’t plan on it. We’re going to wait it out here. One big happy family until it’s over.”
At least the storm had bought them some time. Jack would find a way out of this. Until then, she would play along.
“I need to get dressed.”
Heath’s eyes wandered over her from head to toe. Though he couldn’t see anything through the blanket she’d pulled up to her chin, she still felt the urge to cover herself with five more. He didn’t try to disguise his lust and it sickened her.
“If you must.” He stepped back.
She cast a glance at Jack as she climbed off the bed with the blanket wrapped around her. His nod was barely noticeable as she walked over to the dresser and began riffling through drawers. She knew Jack had hidden a spare knife in one of the drawers. She’d thought it overkill, but now she wanted to kiss him for putting it there.
When she found it she carefully slipped it in between her shorts and t-shirt. Her heart pounded a mile a minute and her hands shook, but she managed to carry the stack into the bathroom without anyone noticing.
Once the door closed she let out a long, slow breath and leaned against it before her knees collapsed. Sweat trickled down her back. She’d done it. Snuck Jack’s weapon into the bathroom, but what did she do with it now? She could conceal it, but she had no clue how to use it. And if they kept Jack under guard she’d never be able to slip it to him.
Suddenly her plan didn’t seem so great. She’d have to hold onto it until she could get it to Jack.
After dressing, she brushed her hair into a ponytail then rinsed her face with cold water. She’d chosen a pair of shorts and t-shirt that were anything but loose. Great, now what? She couldn’t hide it under her shirt like Jack did and she couldn’t hide it in her bra. She’d feel a whole lot better knowing they had some protection against these thugs.
Someone pounded on the door and she jumped, hiding the blade behind her back.
“Hurry up in there,” Heath growled through the door.
“I’m coming.” She quickly tucked the knife in the linen closet, covered it with a couple towels and shut the door. Then, after a deep breath, walked out of the bathroom to where Heath waited for her.
Jack now sat in a chair in front of the balcony doors, his hands tied behind his back and a guard posted at his side. Another stood in front of the door and a third sat on the bed flipping through channels with the remote.
Hard to believe they were in a hostage situation. If not for Jack sitting in front of the door trussed up like a Sunday chicken, she’d be hard pressed to believe it. She avoided Jack’s eyes as she moved to the chair beside the bed and sat down. If she looked at him, she wouldn’t be able to stay strong. Just the thought of him hurting made her heart ache.
“So what, we’re going to just sit here until the storm passes?” she asked.
“That’s the plan.”
“Then let me get a washcloth and clean up Jack’s face. You can’t let him sit there and bleed all over the place. Someone will notice.”
Heath’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Jack and then back to her, deciding if he should trust her or not. Personally, she didn’t see herself as a threat, but he did. That gave her the strength to keep going.
“What am I going to do with your goons watching our every move?” she pointed out.
Heath stepped in front of her, blocking her view, and pressed the tip of his weapon to her chest. Forcing her fear down, she lifted her chin and looked him in the eye.
“Tell me why I should let you near him.” His seductive voice made her shudder in disgust. He misunderstood and smiled, sliding the gun across her collarbone. The cold metal chilled her skin, but she didn’t flinch.
“Because, when the manager comes around you don’t want him to see Jack covered in blood.”
“One of my ‘goons’ will do it.”
Darci shrugged, feigning indifference. “Whatever.”
Heath let the gun tease the top of her breast and it took every ounce of strength not to flinch. Her t-shirt served as a barrier against his ministrations, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to run screaming from the room. God, she hated this.
“You don’t care?” Heath asked, leaning in close.
“Not really,” she lied. She didn’t want these jerks anywhere near him and she’d do whatever it took to stop them. Even endure Heath’s repulsive touch. “As long as he gets cleaned up.”
“Don’t like the blood, sweetheart?”
When he called her sweetheart, it sounded like nails grating on a chalkboard. Nothing like when Jack said it.
“Not really.” She refused to tell him how the sight of blood made her lightheaded and dizzy.
The lights flickered and she drew in a sharp breath. She looked at Heath and said, “Better do it before the lights go out and the manager comes knocking. He’ll want to talk to Jack.”
The lights went out then came back on. Heath removed the gun and straightened. “Do it,” he said. “And no funny stuff.”
Darci nodded and rose to her feet, careful not to look at Jack. She knew he’d try and talk her out of this, so she hurried around Heath and into the bathroom, subtly closing the door halfway behind her.
Heart pounding, she grabbed a couple towels and washcloths out of the linen closet, the knife carefully tucked between them. Her hands shook so badly she almost dropped the whole thing. They would hear the knife clatter on the floor and then it would be all over. There wouldn’t be another chance, so she couldn’t screw this up. She needed to get the knife from the towels to Jack’s hands. He would know what to do then. She could do this. She had to do this.
Wetting one of the washcloths in hot water, she took a deep breath. Here goes. With deliberate care, she walked out of the bathroom and straight to Jack with shaking knees. Heath walked behind her, but the other guards were watching the television, bored. They’d found a sports channel and were engrossed. Good. The less attention she received, the better.
Jack watched her approach. Seeing him like this made her angry and sad. But Jack didn’t seem fazed by it—he simply rolled with the punches. She only wished she had half that ability.
She laid the towels on the floor to her far side where Heath wouldn’t see them and picked up the wet washcloth. Outside the doors, wind and rain pounded against the glass.
On her knees, she leaned over Jack and began wiping blood off his temple. Her stomach lurched and dots swam in front of her eyes, but she refused to pass out. Their lives depended on her staying with it.
Knowing her affliction regarding blood, Jack smiled and bumped her with his shoulder. She swallowed and turned the cloth over, pressing it gently against the wound to stop the blood flow and using the time to catch her breath.
“Hurry up,” Heath snapped when the lights flickered again.
“I am,” she snapped and received a warning glance from Jack. “Just…give me a minute.”
Heath didn’t move away from her shoulder, obviously not trusting her. As well he shouldn’t, bu
t it made her nervous and her hands shook so hard she dropped the washcloth in Jack’s lap and had to start over.
Her head began to spin. As much as she tried not to look, she could see the blood on the cloth. It made her queasy.
The lights flickered off. Fighting the faint coming on, she leaned over, found the knife and quickly slipped it into Jack’s palm.
“Other way,” he whispered over the shuffling and cursing of the guards.
It took her a minute to realize what he meant. Then she reached behind him and turned the knife around, hearing him draw in a sharp breath. With her hands shaking as they were, he was lucky she didn’t cut his off. But she finally got it into his palm, hoping she hadn’t hurt him too much.
Fingers gripped her shoulder. “Get up,” Heath ordered as a flashlight clicked on, illuminating her face.
Dropping the towel, she rose to her feet, wincing as Heath’s fingers bit into her flesh. Two more flashlights turned on. The man standing behind Jack cursed and slapped his light against his palm. Darci watched as he tried to get his to work, hoping Jack could conceal his knife well enough when it did.
Something slammed against the window. Darci screamed. Too much. No lights, the storm, the weapon she’d given Jack’s that could get them both killed if discovered.
Jack sat still as stone, but she knew he used the knife to work the ropes binding his hands. Not as big or deadly-looking as the one he carried sheathed to his belt but it would do the job. Especially with someone like Jack wielding it. His skills weren’t something she doubted.
“Sit.” Heath led her to the bed and pushed her down. He lifted her chin with the barrel of his gun. “And don’t move from this spot.”
A warning she heeded. No way would she move from this spot. Not until Jack told her to. With a nod, she folded her hands in her lap and got comfortable.
****
Heath took advantage of the darkness and sat beside her on the bed, his hand resting on her thigh. His cologne did that nauseating thing and made her want to gag. She had news for him if he thought they were going to have a little make-out session.
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