"Micah's put me off men," she said, tongue-in-cheek. "He's already upset because I won't propose to him." She gave him a wicked grin. "Gosh, first Micah, then you! Having this much sex appeal is a curse. Even Lopez is mad to have me!"
He grinned back. She was a unique woman, he thought, and bristling with courage and character. He wondered why Micah didn't see her as he did. The other man was alternately scathing about and protective of Callie, as if his feelings were too ambiguous to unravel. He didn't like Bojo spending time with her, but he kept her carefully at arm's length, even dragging Lisse over for the shopping trip and using her as camouflage. Callie didn't know, but Lisse had been a footnote in Micah's life even in the days when he was attracted to her. She hadn't been around much for almost a year now.
"After we deal with Lopez, you must play down your attractions," he teased. "Providing twenty-four-hour protection is wearing on the nerves."
"You're not kidding," she agreed, wandering farther down the beach. "I'm getting paranoid about dark corners. I always expect someone to be lurking in them." She glanced up at him. "Not rejected suitors," she added wryly.
He clasped his hands behind him and followed along with her, his keen eyes on the horizon, down the beach, up the beach-everywhere. Bojo was certain, as Micah was, that Lopez wasn't likely to give them time to attack him. He was going to storm the island, and soon. They had to be constantly vigilant, if they wanted to live.
"Do you know any self-defense?" Bojo asked her curiously.
"I know a little," she replied. "I took a course in it, but I was overpowered too fast."
"Show me what you know," he said abruptly. "And I will teach you a little more. It never hurts to be prepared.
She did, and he did. She learned enough to protect herself if she had time to use it. She didn't tell him, but she was really scared that Lopez might snatch her out of sight and sound of the mercs. She prayed that she'd have a fighting chance if she was in danger again.
Callie had convinced herself that an attack would come like a wave, with a lot of men and guns. The last thing she expected was that, when she was lying in her own bed, a man would suddenly appear by the bed and slap a chloroformed handkerchief over her mouth and nose. That was what happened. Outside her patio a waiting small boat on the beach was visible only where she was situated. The dark shadow against the wall managed to bypass every single safeguard of Micah's security system. He slipped into Callie's bedroom with a cloth and a bottle of chloroform and approached the bed where she was asleep.
The first Callie knew of the attack was when she felt a man's hand holding her head steady while a foul-smelling cloth was shoved up under her nose. She came awake at once, but she kept her head, even when she felt herself being carried roughly out of her bedroom onto the stone patio. She knew what to expect this time if she were taken, and she remembered vividly what Bojo had taught her that afternoon. She twisted her head abruptly so that the chloroform missed her face and landed in her hair. Then she got her hands up and slammed them against her captor's ears with all her might.
He cried out in pain and dropped her. She hit the stone-floored patio so hard that she groaned as her hip and leg crashed down onto the flagstones, but she dragged herself to her feet and grabbed at a shovel that the yardman had left leaning against a stone bench close beside her. As her assailant ignored the pain in his fury to pay her back, she swung the shovel and hit him right in the head with it. He made a strange sound and crumpled to the patio. Cal-lie stared out toward the boat, where a dark figure was waiting.
Infuriated by the close call, and feeling very proud of the fact that she'd saved herself this time, she raised the shovel over her head. "Better luck next time, you son of a bitch!" she yelled harshly. "If I had a gun, I'd shoot you!"
Her voice brought Micah and two other men running out onto the patio. They were all armed. The two mercs ran toward the beach, firing as they made a beeline toward the little boat, which had powered up and was sprinting away with incredible speed and very little noise.
Micah stood in front of Callie wearing nothing but a pair of black silk boxer shorts. He had an automatic pistol in one hand. His hair was tousled, as if he'd been asleep. But he was wide-awake now. His face was hard, his dark eyes frightening.
He moved close to her, aware of her body in the thin nylon gown that left her breasts on open display in the light from inside the house. She didn't seem to notice, but he did. He looked at them hungrily before he dragged his gaze back up to her face, fighting a burst of desire as he tried to come to grips with the terror he'd felt when he heard Callie yelling. Thank God she'd had the presence of mind to grab that shovel and knock the man out. "Are you okay?" he asked curtly. "I'm better off than he is," she said huskily, swallowing hard. Reaction was beginning to set in now, and her courage was leaking away as the terror of what had almost happened began to tear at her nerves. "He had chloroform. I...I fought free, but... oh, Micah, I was scared to... death!”
She threw herself against him, shuddering in the aftermath of terror. Now that the danger was past, reaction set in with a vengeance. Her arms went under his and around him. Her soft, firm breasts were flattened against his bare stomach because she was so much shorter than he was. Her hands ran over the long, hard muscles of his back, feeling scars there as she pressed closer. He felt the corner of her mouth in the thick hair that covered the hard muscles of his chest. His body reacted predictably to the feel of a near-naked woman and he gasped audibly and stiffened.
Her hips weren't in contact with his, but she felt a tremor run through his powerful body and she pulled back a little, curious, to look up at his strained face. "What's wrong?"
He drew in a steadying breath and moved back. "Nothing! We'll get this guy inside and question him. You don't need to see it," he added firmly. "You should go back into your room..."
"And do what?" she asked, wide-eyed and hurt by his sudden withdrawal. "You think I can go to sleep now?"
"Stupid assumption," he murmured, moving restively as his body tormented him. "I can call Lisse and let her stay with you."
"No!" She lifted her chin with as much pride as she had left. "I'll get dressed. Bojo will sit up with me if I ask him..."
"The hell he will!" he exploded, his eyes glittering.
She took a step backward. He was frightening"And do what?" she asked, wide-eyed and hurt by his sudden withdrawal. "You think I can go to sleep now?"
"Stupid assumption," he murmured, moving restively as his body tormented him. "I can call Lisse and let her stay with you."
"No!" She lifted her chin with as much pride as she had left. "I'll get dressed. Bojo will sit up with me if I ask him..."
"The hell he will!" he exploded, his eyes glittering.
She took a step backward. He was frightening when he looked like that. He seemed more like the stranger he'd once been than the man who'd been so kind to her in past days.
"I'll get dressed and you can stay with me tonight," he snapped. "Obviously it's asking too much to expect you to stay by yourself!" That was unfair, he realized at once, and he ground his teeth. He couldn't help it. He was afraid to be in the same room with her in the dark, but not for the reason she thought.
She took another step backward, pride reasserting itself. Her chin came up. "No, thanks!" she said. "If you'll just get me a gun and load it and show me how to shoot it, I won't have any problem with being alone."
She sounded subdued, edgy, still frightened despite that haughty look she was giving him. He was overreacting. It infuriated him that she'd had to rescue herself. It infuriated him that he wanted her. He was jealous of his men, angry that she was vulnerable, and fighting with all his might to keep from giving in to his desire for her. She was a marrying woman. She was a virgin. It was hopeless.
Worst of all, she'd almost been kidnapped again and on his watch. He'd fallen asleep, worn-out by days of wear and tear and frustrated desire. Lopez had almost had her tonight. He blamed himself for not taking mo
re precautions, for putting her in harm's way. He should have protected her. He should have realized that Lopez was desperate enough to try anything, including an assault on the house itself. So much for his security net. Upgrades were very definitely needed. But right now, she needed comfort, and he wasn't giving it to her.
He glanced toward the beach. Out beyond it, the little boat had stilled in the water and seemed to be sinking. A dark figure struck out toward the shore.
"Peter, get him!" Micah yelled.
The young man gave him a thumbs-up signal. The tall young man tossed down his weapon, jerked off his boots and overclothes and dived into the water. The assailant tried to get away, but Peter got him. There was a struggle and seconds later, Peter dragged the man out of the water and stood over him where he lay prone on the beach.
Rodrigo came running back up from the beach just about the time the man who'd tried to carry Callie off woke up and rubbed his aching head.
"I told Peter to take the other man around the side of the house to the boat shed."
"Good work," Micah said.
"Oh, look, he's all right," Callie murmured, her eyes narrowed on the downed man who was beginning to move and groan. "What a shame!"
Micah glanced at her. "Bloodthirsty girl," he chided, and grinned despite his churning emotions.
"Well, he tried to kidnap me," she bit off, finally getting her nerve and her temper back. She remembered the chloroform and her eyes blazed. "All I had to hand was a lousy shovel, that's why he's all right."
He turned to the other man. "Rodrigo, get this guy around to the boat shed to keep Peter's captive company. Strip them both, tie them up and gag them. I've got to make a few preparations and I'll be along to question them. Do not tell Bojo anything, except that the police have been notified. You can phone them to pick up Lopez's henchmen an hour from now, no sooner."
"I know what you're thinking. It won't work," Rodrigo said, trying to reason with him. "Lopez will be expecting his men back, if he hasn't already seen what happened."
"Have you got the infrareds on you?"
Rodrigo nodded and pulled out what looked like a fancy pair of binoculars.
"Check the area off the beach for Lopez's yacht."
"It's clear for miles right now. No heat signatures."
"Heat signatures?" Callie murmured.
"We have heat-seeking technology," Micah explained. "We can look right into a house or a room in the dark and see everything alive in it, right through the walls."
"You're kidding!" she exclaimed.
"He's not," Rodrigo said, his dark eyes narrowing as he noted the gown and the pretty form underneath.
Micah knew what the other man was seeing, and it angered him. He stepped in front of Callie, and the action was blatant enough to get Rodrigo moving.
"Where do you think Lopez's yacht is?" Callie asked.
"It'll be somewhere close around. Let's just hope the man Peter caught was too rattled to call Lopez while he was being shot at. I'm sure he had a cell phone. Get out my diving gear and some C-4. And don't say a word to Bojo. Got that? It will work."
"What will work?" Callie asked.
"Never mind," Micah said. "Thanks, Rodrigo. I'm going to get Callie back inside."
"I'll deal with our guest," Rodrigo said, and turned at once to his chore.
Micah drew Callie along with him, from the patio to the sliding glass doors her assailant had forced, and down the hall to her bedroom. On the way, he noticed that two other doors had been opened, as if her captor had looked in them in search of her. His bedroom was closer to the front of the house.
He drew her inside her room and closed the door behind them, pausing to lay the automatic on a table nearby. "Did he hurt you?" he asked at once.
"He dropped me on the patio. I bruised my hip...Micah, no!" she exclaimed, pushing at the big, lean hand that was pulling up her nylon gown.
"I've seen more of you than this," he reminded her.
"But..."
He swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, easing her down gently onto the sheet where the covers had been thrown back by her captor. He sat down beside her and pulled up the gown, smiling gently at the pale pink cotton briefs she was wearing.
"Just what I'd expect," he murmured. "Functional, not sexy."
"Nobody sees my underthings except me," she bit off. "Will you stop?"
He pushed the gown up to her waist, ignoring her protests, and winced when he saw her upper thigh and hip. "You're going to have a whopper of a bruise on your leg," he murmured, drawing down the elastic of the briefs. "Your hip didn't fare much better."
His thumb was against the soft, warm skin of her lower stomach and the other one was poised beside her head on the pillow while he looked at her bruises She didn't think he was doing it on purpose, but that thumb seemed to be moving back and forth in a very arousing way. Her body liked it. She moved rest-lessly on the sheet, shivering a little with unexpected pleasure.
"A few bruises are...are better than being kid napped," she whispered shakily. Her wide eyes met his. "I was so scared, Micah!"
His hand spread on her hip. His narrow black eyes met hers. "So was I, when I heard you shouting," he said huskily. "He almost had you!"
"Almost," she agreed, her breath jerking out "I'm still shaking."
His fingers contracted. "I'm going to give you a sedative," he said, rising abruptly. "You need to sleep. You never will, in this condition."
He left her there and went to get his medical kit He was back almost at once. He opened the bag and drew out a small vial of liquid and a prepackaged hypodermic syringe. This would alleviate her fear of being alone tonight and give him time to get his rampaging hormones under control.
She watched him fill the syringe effortlessly. It was a reminder that he'd studied medicine.
"Have you ever thought of going back to finish your residency?" she asked him.
He shook his head. "Too tame." He smiled in her general direction as he finished filling the syringe. "I don't think I could live without adrenaline rushes." "Doctors have those, too," she pointed out, watching him extend her arm and tap a vein in the curve of her elbow. "You're going to put it in there?" she asked worriedly.
"It's quicker. You won't get addicted to this," he added, because she looked apprehensive. "Close your eyes. I'll try not to hurt you."
She did close her eyes, but she felt the tiny prick of the needle and winced. But it was over quickly and he was dabbing her arm with alcohol on a cotton ball.
"It won't knock you out completely," he said when he'd replaced everything in the kit. "But it will relax you."
She blinked. She felt very relaxed. She peered up at him with wide, soft eyes. "I wish you liked me," she said.
His eyebrows levered up. "I do."
"Not really. You don't want me around. I'm not pretty like her."
"Her?"
"Lisse." She sighed and stretched lazily, one leg rising so that the gown fell away from her pretty leg, leaving it bare. "She's really beautiful, and she has nice, big breasts. Mine are just tiny, and I'm so ordinary. Gosh, I'd love to have long blond hair and big breasts."
He glanced at the bag and back at her. "This stuff works on you like truth serum, doesn't it?" he murmured huskily.
She sat up with a misty smile and shrugged the gown off, so that it fell to her waist. Her breasts had hard little tips that aroused him the instant he saw them. "See?" she asked. "They look like acorns. Hers look like cantaloupes."
He couldn't help himself. He stared at her breasts helplessly, while his body began to swell with an urgency that made him shiver. He was vulnerable tonight.
"Yours are beautiful," he said softly, his eyes helplessly tracing them.
"No, they're not. You don't even like feeling them against you. You went all stiff and pushed me away, out on the patio. It's been like that since... Micah, what are you...doing?" she gasped as his hungry mouth abruptly settled right on top of a hard nipple and bega
n to suckle it. "Oh...glory!" she cried out, arching toward him with a lack of restraint that was even more arousing. Her nails bit into his scalp through his thick hair, coaxing him even closer. "I like that. I...really like that!" she whispered frantically. "I like it, I like it, I...!"
"I should be shot for this," he uttered as he suckled her. "But I want you. Oh, God, I want you so!" His teeth opened and nipped her helplessly.
She drew back suddenly, apprehensively as she felt his teeth, her eyes questioning.
He could barely breathe, and he knew there was no way on earth he was going to be able to stop. It was already too late. Danger was an aphrodisiac, "You don't like my teeth on you," he whispered. "All right. It's all right. We'll try this."
His fingers traced around her pert breast gently and he bent to take her mouth tenderly under his lips. She had no willpower. She opened her lips for him and clung as he eased her down onto the cool sheets.
"Don't let me do this, Callie," he ground out in a last grab at sanity, even as he shed his boxer shorts. "Tell me to stop!"
"I couldn't, not if it meant my life," she murmured, her body on fire for him. Her mind wasn't even working. She held on for dear life and pulled his mouth down harder on hers. She was shivering with pleasure. "I want you to do it," she whispered brazenly. "I want to feel you naked in my arms. I want to make love...!"
"Callie. Sweet baby!" he whispered hoarsely as he felt her hands searching down his flat belly to the source of his anguish. She touched him and he was lost, totally lost. He pressed her hard into the mattress while his mouth devoured hers. It was too late to pull back, too late to reason with her. She was drugged and uninhibited, and her hands were touching him in a way that pushed him right over the edge.
Callie lifted against him, aware of his nudity and the delight of touching him where she'd never have dreamed of touching him if she hadn't been drugged. But she'd always wanted to touch him like that, and it felt wonderful. Her body moved restlessly with little darts of pleasure as he began to discover her, too.
She enjoyed the feel of his body, the touch of his hands. Her skin felt very hot, and when she realized that the gown and her underwear were gone, it didn't matter, because she felt much more comfortable. Then he started touching her in a way she'd never been touched. She gasped. Her body tensed, but she moved toward his hand, burying her face in his neck as the delicious sensations made her pulse with delight. His skin was damp and very hot. She could hear the rasp of his breathing, she could feel it in her hair as he began to caress her very intimately.
Books By Diana Palmer Page 286