Secret Agent Affair

by Marie Ferrarella

  But she didn’t pull away, didn’t put her hands against his chest and make a break for freedom. Instead the petite woman who’d all but set him on fire kissed him back just as intensely as he was kissing her.

  Moreover, she was moving her trim, firm body all along his as if she was trying to secure a better position for herself. The resulting friction of body against body caused him to grow instantly hard. Made him instantly ready to take her.

  But he didn’t.

  If he gave in to his own urges, if he took her now after only a few brief moments of pleasure, then he was hardly above the lowest life form. Difficult as it was, he could hold back even as he maintained contact.

  He wanted this to be memorable for her. He didn’t know why it mattered so much to him, but it did.

  Tightening his hold on Marja, he shifted until their positions were reversed, with her beneath him and him on top. Kane drew back long enough to strip off his own T-shirt. He sent it flying into a corner. And then he leaned over, washboard abs hovering over her, and tugged away the skimpy top she had on.

  Marja wriggled beneath him as she helped him pull off her T-shirt, her eyes never leaving his. His blood pounded through his veins and he bit back a groan. She looked like smoldering fire.

  Desire accelerated within him like a bonfire that had gone out of control.

  Again, lowering himself slowly so as not to crush her beneath his weight, Kane sealed his body to hers. For now he left her in the impossibly tiny shorts. Those would come off soon enough. He had time and waiting made the prize that much sweeter—even though it was hell, holding himself in check when all he wanted to do was plunge himself into her.

  She knew it would be like this. Knew it would be like standing on the edge of a volcano, feeling the heat rise all around her, bathing every inch of her body. Knew it would be like free-falling.

  And yet, it was more.

  She couldn’t even begin to put the sensations into words. All she knew was that she was experiencing a wondrous thrill that made her body literally beg for more. She had grown damp and she could almost physically feel the yearning. He made her want to reach the final eclipse and yet she desperately wanted to sustain this wild, erratic excitement that filled her body inside and out.

  She felt insatiable.

  She just couldn’t seem to get enough of him, not of his mouth, not of his hands that roamed so familiarly along her body. Not of his body when he pressed against hers, firm and hard. And pulsating. She loved the way his chest felt against hers, moving against her breasts, causing the nipples to grow hard. She’d never been this aroused, never been driven this crazy with desire.

  Marja sucked in her breath as his hands drifted along her lower torso, finally working away her cutoffs. She raised her hips and felt the material skim down the length of her legs. It was gone the next moment.

  She wore the barest of thongs. But not for long. It seemed to vanish, replaced by the heel of his palm and then his fingers as he delved into her very center, slowly teasing the opening apart. Stroking her until she thought she was going to sob.

  She twisted and gasped as she lost all control, gulping in air when she could. Wild, hot sensation burst all through her, driving her steadily up to yet another realm.

  And then his hands slipped back, replaced by his mouth.

  She bit down on her lower lip to keep the gasp from turning into a scream as his tongue began to probe her with movements as gentle as a whisper.

  She peaked quickly, caught up in the throes of a climax. Another followed almost immediately. And then another until it all became one swirling whirlpool of sensations, of lights and colors and heat.

  She was limp with exhaustion and wild with passion, all at the same time. Somewhere in the back of her head, she knew there was more, that she had to make him feel something close to what he had created for her. Even as she wanted to bask in this pleasure, she resisted because she desperately didn’t want this to be all one-sided.

  Summoning what little strength she had left to her, Marja gripped his arms, tugging at him. Urging him back to her level. She was vaguely aware of the way his mouth curved when he raised his head to look at her.

  After a beat, his body slowly slid over hers until his face was level with hers. Parting her legs, she raised her hips in an open invitation. He needed no more.

  They fit together as if they had been created that way.

  Then, just as slowly as he’d proceeded before, he began to move his hips.

  Tantalizing her.

  Teasing her.

  But his restraint was all but gone and the urgency overtook him the moment she began to move her body in time with his.

  Dancing the eternal dance, they continued to increase the tempo, going faster and faster.

  His fingers woven through hers, Kane sealed his mouth to hers half a heartbeat before they were both engulfed in the explosion that rocked them down to the very core of their being.

  Chapter 9

  Marja slowly opened her eyes as she floated back to earth. Everything inside of her seemed to grin breathlessly. As the warm blanket of euphoria receded, she could have sworn that her body still vibrated like a tuning fork.

  Kane had rolled off and was lying beside her. Amazing how such a small space could accommodate them, she mused dreamily. They were two very different people. She felt like singing and he obviously preferred to retreat into silence.

  Silence made her edgy.

  Marja blew out a long breath. It would take awhile before her heart stopped hammering. “I should have you deliver pizza more often.”

  Kane didn’t turn to look at her. “No, you shouldn’t.”

  His voice was deep, solemn. Distant. Disturbing. Wedged in between the sofa’s cushions at her back and the length of Kane’s body on the other side of her, Marja raised herself up as best she could and looked down at his stern face.

  Had she missed a step? Or was this his way of making sure she wasn’t suffering under some delusion that this had meant something?

  “That wasn’t a marriage proposal,” she told him glibly. “And I wasn’t asking you to plight your troth. That was just…” And just like that, the soft, lovely feeling was gone, as if it had never existed. “Oh, I don’t know what it just was.”

  Embarrassed, feeling like an idiot and hating it, Marja scrambled to regain her dignity and a vertical position. She climbed over Kane’s inert body as quickly as possible to gather up her scattered clothing.

  But she wasn’t quite fast enough.

  Sitting up, Kane clamped his hand around her wrist before she could make good her escape. His eyes met hers. His were flat, unfathomable. Hers, she knew, were angry. “I shouldn’t have done this.”

  She yanked her hand away and quickly pulled on the cutoffs and her T-shirt. She still felt horribly naked. Not nude, naked. There was a huge difference.

  “Why?” she snapped, zipping up the cutoffs. “Because of that caste system you have in your head? Or because there’s someone waiting for you to come back tonight?”

  It suddenly occurred to her that he might not be single. Kane had never said, one way or another. She’d just assumed he was alone. Was he married, engaged, with someone? Was this just a mindless, one-night stand, made easy by her utter willingness?

  Damn, she didn’t sleep around. She enjoyed sex and she tried to keep it light, but she’d never been the casual type. There’d always been feelings involved, at least on some level.

  But when it came to Kane, all the rules fell apart. As if she was blindly following this pull, this surge of chemistry between them that couldn’t leave her alone.

  “No.” It came out more like a growl than a one-syllable word, blanketing both of her suggestions.

  “Because I want to do it again.”

  All the indignation, the embarrassment, the silent upbraiding, instantly ceased. She understood now. Kane didn’t like to be pinned down and he was afraid that was where this was going to go, wasn’t he?

&
nbsp; Her expression softened as the anger vanished. “I don’t see that as a problem.”

  “You should,” he told her. It was an unmistakable warning. There wasn’t a hint of a smile on his lips.

  “You don’t want to get mixed up with me.”

  Her mouth curved. She did her best to look strictly at his face and not at any part of his torso, but it was growing increasingly difficult.

  “Too late.”

  He seemed utterly oblivious to the fact that he had nothing on. “No, it’s not. I’m not the type to settle down.”

  She was right. He was afraid she was writing out wedding invitations in her head. “I don’t recall asking you to.”

  It didn’t matter if she said so or not. Things were what they were. “Isn’t that what everything is all about.” It was more of a statement than a question. “Finding someone and settling down?”

  Marja blinked, staring at him in disbelief. He had to be kidding. He made it sound as if it was the 1950s all over again.

  “Are you caught in some kind of time warp?” she asked. “Women are pretty independent these days. They’re not defined by how white their sheets come out of the washing machine or how fast they can whip up a batch of chocolate-chip cookies.” Mentally, she apologized to her mother, who had always cared about the whiteness of her sheets and the quality of her desserts. But Mama was independent for all that.

  “I wasn’t talking about just women.”

  He meant women and men, she realized. That put a whole different spin on things. Okay, she was willing to admit that for a lot of people, love made the world go ’round and the lack thereof sometimes brought it to a skidding halt.

  “Oh, well then, maybe.” She moved her shoulders in a half shrug. “I suppose, for a great many people, it’s about who you love and who loves you back, but finding that kind of forever love is a bonus these days.” Leaning forward, she brushed hair away from his eyes. Affection skimmed through her. She did her best to make him understand that she wasn’t expecting anything from him beyond the moment. “In this intense, 100-mile-an-hour world, just getting through a day is pretty big stuff.”

  Damn it, he wanted her again. Wanted her as much as the first time. Maybe more. This couldn’t be good. It sure as hell wasn’t working out the way he’d expected. He couldn’t afford to be distracted. This wasn’t just about him.

  He moved her hand aside. “I’d better go.”

  Taking a step back to give him space, she glanced down at his torso. And then smiled. The man was definitely not as disinterested as he was trying to convince her—and maybe even himself—that he was.

  She thought of a song she’d once heard in one of those old musicals her mother was so partial to. “There’s a really old song from the beginning of the last century, one of the lines goes ‘your lips tell me no, no, but there’s yes, yes in your eyes.’ I think,” she said, resting one knee on the edge of the sofa, her body looming over his, “that might just be applicable here.”

  He found himself reaching for her. With his thumb and his forefinger, he slipped the button of her cutoffs out of its hole again. Very slowly, he moved the zipper back down to its base.

  “You don’t know what you’re getting into,” he warned. This had no place to go. He had nothing to offer her. His life was rootless, that was what made him such a good operative. While she was nestled deeply in her work, in her family. Night and day. Oil and vinegar. That was them.

  But he still wanted her, damn him.

  “Then educate me, Kane,” she whispered, lowering her face to his until her mouth was hardly an inch away from his. “Educate me,” she repeated just before she sank into a kiss that reignited both of them all over again.

  For a moment he let himself go, but then, against all odds, his strength of will surfaced. Kane gently pushed her back. “Damn it, woman, you make it hard to go.”

  “Then don’t,” she breathed, recapturing his mouth.

  She was too sweet to resist. Kane surrendered. Just for the night, he told himself.

  It was an impromptu get-together, called by her father to help soothe her mother’s nerves before the big day. The opening of her restaurant, Magda’s Kitchen, was swiftly approaching. The closer it came, the more convinced her mother acted that she had made a huge mistake. Or rather, her family had since they had been the ones who had talked her into this.

  So the call for assembly had gone out and they had all pulled strings and traded shifts to be here for Mama. And for Dad.

  “Do you know how many restaurants fail within the first year?” Marja heard her mother’s raised voice demand as she let herself into her parents’ tidy, two-story house. From what her father had said over the phone, Mama had been venting like this for some time now.

  She followed the sound of the voices to the family room. Everyone was already there, including her brothers-in-law and Jesse. All four men prudently held their tongues.

  Poor Dad, she thought, sympathizing with both her parents. Especially her mother. Despite being the personification of confidence as far as the family was concerned, Marja was certain that her mother still entertained fears of failure. It was only human.

  She heard her father sigh loudly. “No, but I am sure you will be telling us.”

  “This is not funny, Josef,” Magda declared. “This is our money I am talking about. Money you made me put into the restaurant.” She wrung her hands once, then dropped them to her sides. Mama was pacing, a sure sign of her agitation. “If I fail, we will be living on the street.”

  “Then do not fail,” Josef told her simply. “Or, if you must fail,” he continued philosophically, “do it next summer. Sleeping in the street will be better then. It will be warmer.”

  Magda looked incensed. Natalya was quick to jump to her feet and act as a buffer between her parents. “You’re not going to fail, Mama,” Natalya assured her.

  Kady added in her two cents, backing up her older sister. “You never fail, Mama. At anything.”

  Magda snorted. “Then I am overdue.”

  Tania changed the subject temporarily. “Speaking of overdue…” she glanced over at Sasha, sitting in the recliner, her swollen ankles raised. For six months Sasha hadn’t shown and then, suddenly, she’d all but exploded. “Huge” did not begin to cover it. Tania smiled. “Aren’t you?”

  Magda was quick to jump on this, as well, adding it to the pile of reasons why she should have never consented to taking on this immense project.

  “That is another thing.” She waved her hand at her oldest child. “Who will be here for Sasha if I am standing in the kitchen, cooking for people I do not know?”

  Sasha gave Tania a dark look for offering her up like a sacrificial lamb.

  “We all will be,” Marja told her mother, taking a seat on the floor in front of Sasha. “Besides, she’ll have a whole hospital looking after her, remember?”

  Magda made a small, dismissive noise, waving her hand at the words. “Who is better to look after a daughter than her mother?” Magda asked.

  “No one, Mama,” Marja allowed dutifully. “We’ll all be just poor substitutes, but maybe between all of us, we’ll equal one of you. Besides, that’s the price we’ll have to pay for you to become the huge success we all know that you’re going to be.” She turned toward her father who was hanging back on the side. “Right, Dad?”

  Josef straightened. “Of course, right. It is what I have been saying. And Sasha’s a good girl.” He looked at his firstborn with pride. “She will find a way to have her baby when you are not working.”

  “I think you’re giving me a wee bit too much credit here, Dad,” Sasha said. She was about to say something else, but before she could open her mouth, a warning look came into her father’s gray-blue eyes. They all had to placate Mama. So she offered her mother a wide smile and promised, “But I’ll do my best.”

  Unable to stay in one place for more than a few seconds, Marja rose to her feet again. A restlessness had been coursing through her veins
ever since she and Kane had made love the other night. A restlessness that had its roots in the almost overwhelming desire to make love with him again.

  Banking down the feeling, she crossed to her mother and put an arm around the small woman’s shoulders. Funny, when she was a little girl, her mother had seemed like such a large presence. When had she shrunk down to this size?

  “Mama, you were born to run this restaurant. You’ve always been a wonderful cook. It’s not just our opinion. All your friends always ask you to cook for them whenever they have a party. It’s time the world found out just how fantastic Magda Pulaski is in the kitchen—and time you started getting paid for your talent.” She gave her mother’s shoulders a squeeze. “Besides,” she teased, “you signed a lease until the end of the year. You have to do something with the place, why not a restaurant?”

  Magda looked at her closely. Rather than continue to dispute the wisdom of what she had gotten herself into, or give credence to what she’d just said, her mother narrowed her eyes, as if taking measure of something.

  Marja could almost feel her mother’s eyes boring into her.

  “There is someone new, isn’t there?” her mother asked out of the blue.

  For a moment Marja was speechless. It had always struck her as uncanny the way her mother seemed to know whenever any one of them was involved with someone new. Sometimes Mama knew it was serious before the people involved did. Certainly before either was willing to acknowledge it. There were times, like right now, when she had the unnerving feeling that her mother had a window into a netherworld. Or, at the very least, she was psychic.

  In any event, she wasn’t ready to talk about this yet, especially not in a crowd scene. “I see new people every day, Mama. We all do.” She gestured toward her sisters and the men who were sitting so quietly by their sides.

  “I am not talking about that.” Magda tilted her head, still studying her youngest child. Her eyes had become tiny slits. “I am talking about someone personal.” Her mother opened her eyes wider again, looking deeply into hers. “Someone who has been personal.”