She could take this pain…because it also meant pleasure.
She started slowly toward the water and broke into a run, dropping the shoes she held on the way, tossing her bag next to them, aware that he was right behind her, all in.
Just the thrill of it eased the headache enough to forget anything but Gabe for a moment or two. She needed this. She so needed this.
The December-chilled water shocked at first, but adrenaline and the knowledge that he was right behind her warmed her up. She waded in, the sand soft, the water lapping around her ankles and calves.
He came up from behind, wrapping his arms around her, his mouth on her shoulder and neck.
This is perfection. As close to perfection as Lila could know. The moon, the man, the madness of it all. She felt…unstoppable.
She kept going deeper, waist-high, then turned to find he’d ditched his shirt on the sand but still wore pants. Her dress grew heavy with water, the salty spray tickling her arms as she got deeper.
She flattened her hands on his bare chest, caressing like a blind woman who needed to feel everything, every angle and cut, his hard nipples and sweet pecs. She kissed his mouth and bowed her back to give him silent permission to touch everything, everywhere.
Finding his footing in the sand, he easily lifted her up, her body buoyed by the water. Each kiss grew hotter, crazier, and more desperate. He held her with two hands on her backside, her soaked clothes dragging around them as she rode a gentle wave and let his hard-on rub exactly where she wanted it.
She moaned in ecstasy and leaned all the way back, her headache forgotten and replaced by a different kind of ache much farther down, powerful and relentless and taut.
“Look at me,” Gabe demanded, pulling her back up to him.
She opened her eyes and feasted on his wet chest glistening in the moonlight, his dark hair sticking to his forehead, his blue eyes piercing her with determination. Gorgeous Gabe. Sexy, bad, reckless Gabe.
“Isadora,” he whispered.
A chill danced over her, leaving goose bumps on all her exposed skin. “Don’t call me that.”
“I’ll call you whatever I want.” He rocked so that he rubbed her again, right on the sweet spot, right where she couldn’t stand it. “Isadora. It’s you. Isn’t it? Isn’t it?” His voice grew gruff with the demand and dark with doubt.
“Yes…with you, always with you.”
“You like this,” he rasped in her ear, reaching under her to slip his fingers into her. “You like this.”
“I love that.” No ocean could drench the white-hot sparks that made her gasp with pleasure.
“Isadora.” He ground out the name.
She wanted to fight him, wanted to say no, she couldn’t be that woman anymore, but her voice was trapped in her throat. She couldn’t think or talk or reason with a man who knew her every weakness. He spread her flesh, curled two fingers inside her and, all the while, kept her rubbing over his massive, granite-hard erection. And then he nestled under her jaw and sucked the tender skin below her earlobe.
And that took her over the edge. Torture and pleasure crashed through her, an old and familiar cocktail of sensations washing over her like the warm gulf waters. He wouldn’t stop. Sucking. Touching. Finding her sweet spot.
She opened her mouth to say his name, but all she could manage was a low, long cry of delight as her body spiraled into a long, exquisite orgasm that rocked from her core to her fingertips. Shock waves of delight melted into rolling thunder of pleasure and finally quieted to a gasp of…pain.
A hatchet whacked through her brain, stealing every ounce of pleasure and the ability to think straight.
“I don’t care what your name is,” Gabe whispered, dragging his lips over her eyes and cheeks and, finally, her mouth. “We’re perfect together.”
The memory of the last time he’d said that to her punched its way through the agony in her head. It hadn’t hurt to hear him say it then. Why, oh God, why did it torment her now?
Because now, she was inside a prison of pain that made love impossible. The only way to survive was to encase herself in ice or lose herself in work. There was no chance to be a normal, loving partner to this man or a normal, loving mother to his son.
“Let’s go in,” she said, finding her footing on the silty bottom of the gulf. “I…have a headache.”
He inched back, searching her face, no doubt winding up for a snarky response about the cliché rejection for sex. But he didn’t fire any sarcasm or humor, just took her hand and waded through the water with her.
She would always be a prisoner. Always. Even Gabe couldn’t free her with his touch or kiss or love.
Chapter Fourteen
Early the next morning, Gabe slipped away to his office, confident the villa where he left Lila was secured by a couple of men on Luke McBain’s security force. With a hot cup of coffee, he sat down at his desk to tap his way through some semiclassified shit that he could still access and face a simple and obvious fact: Lila Wickham was holding something back. Something big. Something important. Something he had to know before he let himself slip and fall in love again.
Because the more he discovered Isadora inside, the easier it was to slide right back to where he was five years earlier.
So what was it? What really made her carve up her face and body, fake her death, give up all ties to the past, and become a new person without telling him?
Because I have a chance to save someone from enduring the pain I did.
Her speech drifted back to his memory from that last morning. He could see the glint of determination in those green eyes and hear Isa’s voice rise with passion for her cause. He knew what mattered to her…but he wanted to matter more.
If I can save one life, one single life, and prevent one human being from going through that helpless, horrible feeling of being told some lunatic with a cause killed your parents while they walked down a hallway, then I will. I have to. It’s why I joined the CIA.
Dexter Crain had dragged her into the CIA, as Gabe recalled. He’d planted the idea when he took the position as the chairman of the Senate Intelligence Committee, and he’d convinced her this was her way to use her language skills to take down the baddies.
I crossed that lobby and stood on that insignia so I could do that, not to meet a man who makes me feel weak.
There it was, the crux of what had broken them apart. She would always, always choose duty over love. For all he knew, that’s why she wanted to give up her son—for a new assignment so dark and deep she couldn’t tell him. Maybe he was a pawn in it.
Who knew? She knew.
And he just couldn’t seem to get inside that head and really understand her. Whenever he got close, she backed off with a look of pain and the claim of a headache.
Something didn’t fit.
He stabbed his fingers through his hair and pushed the laptop across his desk with a grunt, wishing like hell he hadn’t felt the need to leave at dawn and figure out the woman who slept alone in the bed while he’d crashed on the sofa.
“Most people take this whole week off.”
Gabe looked up to see Luke McBain standing in his office doorway. “When are you going to figure out that I am not most people, McBain?”
“Heard you never left Rockrose last night,” Luke said.
“Crackerjack security is on point today,” Gabe shot back.
Luke shrugged off the dig, long used to it since the two of them met years ago on a mission in Somalia. “I have three men up there right now, per your request, and all of them reported you left at sunrise.”
. “I only counted two lurking where they couldn’t be seen, so one of those goons is really good.”
“There are three,” Luke assured him, taking the seat across from Gabe’s desk. “And they are some of the best in the business. But, man, I need a woman.”
Gabe lifted a brow. “Uh, dude. Your wife, Ari?”
“A woman on my security team,” he corrected. “I hear th
at she’s former MI6.”
“Kinda makes your mouth water, doesn’t it?”
“Makes my payroll water. Your mission, Rossi, is to make that badass blonde stay in Barefoot Bay and work for me.”
Luke had no idea how much their “missions” aligned.
“Tell her to set up a meeting with me,” Luke urged.
“Not yet.” Because she sure as hell wasn’t protecting someone else when her own life was in danger.
“She’s not a client of yours, is she?” Luke asked.
“No, just…a friend.” But he could tell Luke was fishing for more than that. “Why?”
“Well, I mean if she were a client, you’d keep her on the DL. When you have someone hiding out here, even my staff doesn’t think it’s anyone but a resort guest. You sure as hell don’t drag them to a party and introduce them to everyone.”
“She’s not hiding,” he replied.
“But you need a top-notch security team to watch her, and you’re there all night long, even though you didn’t get laid.”
Gabe gave an indignant snort. “You got one hiding in the closet? Damn, you’re good, McBain.”
“Nope, this is pure brilliant deduction.” Luke crossed his arms, hazel eyes direct and clear. “You’re in a shitty mood, and you’re here and not in a nice warm bed playing spy games.”
“You’re not in your nice warm bed with Ari,” he shot back.
“But I’m in a good mood.” Luke propped his feet on Gabe’s desk. “And this is my business, so showing up the day after Christmas is to be expected. Along with straight answers from you. We have a deal, Gabe. Honor it.”
The deal was that Gabe would play “consultant” for Luke’s security business, providing Gabe a great cover to do his wit-sec work. But, in return, Gabe had promised to always be straight with Luke about clients. The head of resort security had a right to know if there were any potential threats on this property.
But he couldn’t be honest about this woman. Not completely. “You have enough answers, straight or otherwise.”
Luke put his hand to his ear, pretending to listen. “What’s that I hear? Oh, the howl of the lone wolf.” He gave Gabe a hard look. “Sometimes the whole pack is more effective.”
“I know that,” Gabe said. “Look, she’s not in hiding and isn’t using my services, but she’s got an asshole former boyfriend who might want to make her life hell.”
“Who is he? Give me details, and we’ll watch out for him.”
Shit. Details he couldn’t provide because there was no asshole ex. He angled his head and looked hard at his friend. “Luke. MI6. CIA. Shit gets…classified. Capisce?”
“So why are you telling every Tom, Dick, and Harry on the island what her name is and still insisting on protection?”
“Okay, look, it’s not an ex. We don’t know exactly who the threat is, or I”d go after him myself.”
“You’re baiting the guy,” Luke said, no surprise in his voice. “So security can help.”
He couldn’t argue that. “Okay, watch every new face at the resort,” Gabe said. “Run IDs on anyone who registers, secretly take copies of passports and licenses, and alert me if anyone shows up without a reservation.”
“Done. Anything else?”
“No.” Gabe stood and so did Luke. “And thanks, man. This one’s complicated.”
“They always are when you’re in love.”
Gabe groaned. “Is Oprah running your security detail now?”
“Joke all you want, Gabe. But I’ve been there, and I know when you’re involved with someone you want to protect, you…” His voice faded as Gabe shook his head. “No? Then I sure misread you two last night.”
So had he. “We were…” Gabe turned and busied himself with the open laptop. “We had a thing years ago.”
“A thing?”
“That’s what the kids call mind-blowing sex now. Haven’t you heard?”
“But you’re not having that thing now.”
He made a point of typing and ignoring Luke. “How do you like it up there in my business, McBain?”
Luke chuckled, pulling a cell phone from his pocket and glancing at the screen. “Just so you know, she’s on the move.”
“She left the villa?”
Luke nodded. “Yup. Follow her or not?”
“She can’t get far. Which direction is she going, toward the beach or the main building?”
“Toward the main building, currently on the path, passing Artemisia right now.”
Gabe spun through the options, thinking about where that villa was located. He could get in his car and take the back road to the parking lot and beat her there or maybe get there at the same time.
“Tell them to keep a distance but watch. I’m driving over there.” He didn’t wait for an answer, but took off toward the front of the cul-de-sac, hustling to the classic GTO parked in his own driveway a few doors away.
He pulled out the keys, jumped in, and gunned it down the back road that led to the front of the resort. Just as he turned into the main entrance, he was cut off by a black SUV with shaded windows.
Was that just a prick in a big car…or someone driving a fairly classic government vehicle?
As he got farther into the lot, Gabe scanned the area, looking for a familiar blond head. He spotted her a long way off, still coming down the path, walking at a brisk pace with a handbag slung over her shoulder, loose light-colored pants and a thin top draped on her narrow frame like a runway model.
What was her deal, really? This woman who would give up everything when duty called.
The cold grip of mistrust, a familiar and never welcome old enemy, squeezed his chest just as the SUV blocked his view of her for a few seconds, then he saw her slowing down as she was in front of the first villa on the right. She paused for a moment and took out her phone, tapping the screen.
Gabe checked his, expecting a text that said, I’m going to breakfast, or I have an appointment in the spa, or…something.
None came.
As she waited, the SUV did the same, not moving so Gabe could get by, not taking a parking spot.
“Come on, you ball bag, get out of my way.”
Then Lila started walking again, and the SUV started moving. At exactly the same time.
The hairs on the back of his neck woke up, and so did everything in him that had ever learned how to tail someone. She paused again, reading her phone and typing something, obviously texting with someone who wasn’t him.
And the SUV slowed down.
What the hell? He studied the vehicle, a big-ass Tahoe with black-out windows and Florida tags, which he memorized out of habit.
She started walking toward the large overhang that shaded the entrance to the main building, a bit of a bounce in her step, like she was feeling great. Whoever she was texting put her in a damn fine mood.
Irritation danced on nerves already frayed from a shitty night with a relentless boner and even more relentless questions.
She slowed again, and the Tahoe in front of him almost came to a complete stop. From his place behind it, Gabe could see the passenger window slide down. Everything in Gabe went white-hot. Lila turned and looked right at the car, and Gabe’s heart shot into his throat.
Without thinking, he threw his door open and dodged toward her, praying he’d take that bullet before she did, shoving her so hard they both went toppling toward the concrete.
She squawked. He covered her. And the SUV screamed out of the lot, threading other cars as it took off.
“Gabe!” She pushed at him, sitting up, a small crowd of valets and guests stopping and forming a circle. “Are you okay?” he asked, tearing his attention from the car to her. “Was he armed?”
“Are you okay, miss?” one of the valets asked.
“Do you need help?” someone else called.
Two of McBain’s goon squad came running from their distant protective positions.
A full-fledged gallery of looky-loos had surrounded
them. Gabe got to his feet, bringing Lila with him, a protective arm around her. “We’re good,” he said, holding up a hand. “All good. I’ll just take her inside.”
She jerked out of his touch. “I’m fine.”
Gabe looked at her, stunned at her response, aware that a few of the onlookers got a little closer, like he was the perp here.
“That guy could have killed you, Lila,” he ground out, urging her inside to get away from the crowd. “Maybe you didn’t notice since you were texting, but he followed you around this parking lot and kept up with your every step.”
“I did notice, since I was texting the driver.”
He drew back. “Who was it?”
“That was Chris in a bulletproof high-security SUV with Rafe in the backseat. They were coming to pick me up for breakfast. So thanks for ruining my plans.”
Damn it. “You didn’t tell me you had plans.”
“You disappeared and left security professionals all over the place. I figured they told you.”
“You could have just called or texted me, and I would have known.”
“I was going to, but they were early, and I was anxious to see Rafe.” She looked past Gabe and sighed again. “He won’t take that well.”
Seeing his mom knocked on her ass would probably not sit well, no. Shit.
Gabe looked outside where his GTO was still running, the door open. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go get him and take him to breakfast.”
“I’ll go. Alone.”
“Like hell you will.” Gabe nudged her to the frosted-glass resort door.
She shook her head and stood stone still. “No, Gabe. You’re not going.” She pressed her hand to her forehead. “I can’t take that.”
Why couldn’t he go? Was it really Chris and Rafe in that car?
Distrust prickled his skin.
“You just have to control everything and do it yourself.” Shaking her head, she walked right past his car.
“No, I don’t.” He went for her arm, but it was as if she sensed his move before he made it, dodging to the side to avoid his touch.
Roxanne St. Claire - Barefoot With a Bad Boy (Barefoot Bay Undercover #3) Page 13