Special Agent's Surrender

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Special Agent's Surrender Page 11

by Carla Cassidy


  As he stood at the side of the bed clad only in a pair of navy briefs, her breath hitched in her chest. He might think she was beautiful half-clothed, but he was absolutely magnificent.

  His torso was long and lean, his shoulders broad and his legs powerful. But it was those eyes of his that captured her, so dark and hungry as they gazed at her.

  He slid into the bed next to her and she shivered in sweet anticipation as he drew her into his arms. His body was no longer cold, but rather wonderfully warm.

  Their lips met in a kiss that stole her breath and made her utterly boneless in his arms. She suspected she’d wanted him the moment she’d walked into the cabin and saw him, so brooding and broken. But he didn’t feel broken now—he was filled with vibrant energy.

  He splayed his fingers across the naked skin of her back, his touch hot and welcome. She wanted his hands everywhere, on her back, on her breasts and anywhere else. She felt as if her skin was starved for his very touch.

  “I feel like I’ve wanted you forever,” she whispered.

  “I feel the same way.” His hands found the clasp of her bra and in the blink of her eye she felt it unfasten.

  She rolled over and straddled him as she allowed her bra to fall from her shoulders. She closed her eyes as he reached up to caress her bare breasts and then moaned as his thumbs raked across the tips.

  She could feel his arousal beneath her and she wanted him on top of her, inside her. She rolled back to the side of him and stripped off her panties, then tugged impatiently at the waistband of his briefs.

  “Not so fast,” he protested. “Slow, Layla, I want to take it slow.”

  And he did take it slow. His hands moved with languid but studied intent, as if memorizing the weight of her breasts and the span of her waist. His lips moved slowly, too, drawing in each of her nipples in turn, into his mouth and creating exquisite sensations that shuddered through her.

  Magic. He was sheer magic and he made her feel like the most beautiful woman on earth. As he gazed at her with his onyx eyes that sparked with such fevered need, she felt his magic in the very depths of her soul.

  When his hand moved down the flat of her belly, a small moan escaped her. And when he touched her as intimately as a man could touch a woman she was instantly at near-orgasm.

  As he moved his fingers against her, she cried out his name, stunned by the tidal wave of pleasure that swept over her again and again until she was weak and gasping for breath.

  It was then, when she was limp and shuddering in his arms, that he moved away from her just long enough to take off his briefs.

  He fumbled in the nightstand and then she realized he’d grabbed a condom wrapper. “Wait,” she said as he tore it open. “I want to touch you before you put it on.” She wanted to feel his warm flesh in her hand, feel the pulse of the power inside him.

  As she took hold of him he groaned in pleasure and when she stroked her hand up and down the hard length of him he stopped her. “Don’t,” he said in a voice that sounded half-strangled. “I don’t want it to be over this way.”

  Neither did she so she pulled back her hand as he put on the condom. When it was in place he rolled on top of her and took her lips in a surprisingly gentle kiss.

  The kiss spoke not so much of hot, unbridled desire and greedy want, but rather of something deeper, something beautiful and caring that made Layla want him more than ever.

  She opened her thighs to welcome him and he slid deep into her with a sigh. For a long moment neither of them moved. She clung to him, her arms wrapped around his back as their heartbeats mirrored each other in a wild rhythm.

  He began to move then, slowly and with long deep strokes that began the rise of a new tension inside her. All her nerve endings were enflamed and she arched beneath him seeking another release. When it came she cried out his name and realized he was there, too, crashing back to earth as he whispered her name.

  Almost immediately he got up from the bed. “Are you coming back?” she asked. “Please come back,” she added.

  “All right,” he replied simply and then left the bedroom.

  She got out of bed and grabbed her nightgown and pulled it on over her head and then got back beneath the warm sheets that smelled of Jacob.

  She hoped he’d come back to the bedroom. She wanted him to have the comfort of the bed for the night. She also wanted him to hold her close to him until she drifted off to sleep.

  Her heart swelled as he returned and slid back beneath the sheets. She snuggled next to him, pleased as he turned on his side and pulled her against his chest.

  “Now I suppose you’re going to do a verbal replay of everything just so I can hear the sound of your voice.” His voice held a relaxed, teasing tone.

  “Hmm, actually, the whole experience has left me rather speechless,” she replied.

  “I hope that’s speechless in a good way.”

  “Definitely. If I was a cat I’d be purring.”

  He stroked a hand down her thigh. “And if you were a bunny the possibilities would be endless.”

  She laughed. “Why, Agent Grayson, nobody mentioned to me that you actually have a sense of humor.”

  “There was a time some people thought I was quite witty.”

  Layla inched away from him and propped herself up on her elbow so she could see his face in the fading light that whispered through the window. “Tell me about the women in your past. Were there hundreds?”

  He laughed, the sound deep and pleasant. “No, just a few. The last couple of years I’d focused almost exclusively on work.”

  “Any heartbreak in that few?”

  “What, are we playing Twenty Questions?” he protested.

  “I will if you want to, but it might just be easier to appease my naturally curious nature.” She reached out and shoved a strand of his dark hair from his forehead, unable to fight her need to touch him.

  “There was one,” he said. “But doesn’t everyone have at least one heartbreak in their past?”

  She frowned thoughtfully. “I don’t. I have a lot of broken relationships, but I’m not sure my heart has really been broken before. I just refuse to allow that to happen.”

  She was too embarrassed to admit to him that the men in her life didn’t stick around long enough for her to become truly emotionally involved with them.

  “So, tell me about this woman who broke your heart,” she said, wanting to know everything about him.

  He pulled her back into his arms and kissed her on the forehead. “We were young, she was pretty and I thought it was love, but she was just having fun. It seemed like a big deal at the time, but not so much now.”

  “Is she why you decided not to do relationships?”

  “Enough, Layla. Enough talk for one night.”

  “You know there’s really only one way to shut me up,” she said as she allowed her fingers to smooth down the flat of his abdomen and down to his inner thigh.

  He drew in a breath and chuckled. “I had a feeling there might be a little bit of bunny in you,” he said softly just before his mouth claimed hers.

  It was almost an hour later that Jacob slept with her curled up in his arms. The howl of the wind outside sounded bitterly cold and lonely, but she was warm and sweetly sated next to Jacob.

  He just might become her very first real heartbreak, she thought as the wind rattled the glass in the window frame. He’d walk away from her when this was all over just like all the other men she’d slept with or dated. But, this time she had a feeling it was going to hurt more than it ever had before.

  She closed her eyes as sleep threatened to overcome her. One thing was certain, in the future whenever she needed to go to a safe and happy place in her mind, she’d come back to this moment in his arms.

  He was a patient man. The Professional sat in his favorite chair and listened to the wind screeching outside his windows while he took a sip of hot cocoa.

  He knew Jacob Grayson had Layla stashed someplace here in town an
d it was just a matter of time before he found them. The others were hidden in a place he was confident they wouldn’t be found, and as far as he was concerned he was above suspicion anyway.

  Smarter than the FBI, better than the local yokels, he could have made Black Rock his hunting ground forever, but after his party he’d be gone. Like a shadow in the night, like a phantom in a dream, he’d disappear and set up shop in another place.

  As the howling wind got more intense, he decided he’d go someplace where it was warm. Maybe Florida or California. He smiled at the thought of all those beach bunnies just waiting to be plucked for a party.

  Yes, it was time to head to a warmer climate, but first he had to get to Layla West. Then the real fun would begin.

  It was snowing when Jacob got out of bed the next morning. Not a pretty, gentle fall of flakes, but a wheezing, icy blizzard. It must have started several hours before because the ground already sported at least two inches.

  “Terrific,” he muttered drily. This would only hurt the investigation, making the search more difficult.

  He poured himself a cup of coffee and then moved back to the window, grateful that Layla was still asleep. He’d awakened spooned around her warm body. Before he opened his eyes to face the day he’d been happy.

  Frowning, he felt a restless adrenaline try to take hold of him. He wanted to be investigating instead of cooped up here in the cabin. He knew protecting Layla was important, but right now an edge of impatience, of urgency, filled him.

  He suspected these new emotions were in response to his growing feelings for the woman in the next room. He didn’t want to care about her, but he did and with each minute that passed, each hour that went by, that feeling grew stronger.

  She’d made it clear to him that she wasn’t the marrying kind, and he knew that his involvement with her could only lead to a new kind of heartbreak, but he didn’t know how to protect himself from her.

  She was bigger than life with her infectious laughter and depth of compassion. He knew she was loyal to her friends and had a side that was very nurturing. She’d make a good mother.

  Again he frowned as he thought of her plan to be a single parent. No man? No problem. That had been her attitude. She didn’t need a partner, wasn’t in the market for one. In this particular aspect she reminded him of the woman he’d thought he’d once loved.

  As he stared out to the drifting, blowing snow he realized his love for Sarah hadn’t been as deep as he’d thought. Sure, he’d enjoyed her company and there had definitely been an element of lust involved. A marriage proposal had seemed like the obvious next step in their relationship, but he was grateful now that Sarah had turned him down.

  It felt like fate that he was here now with Layla, but he reminded himself not to get used to it, that she was a temporary woman in a temporary situation and he’d do well to remember that.

  By the time she got up he’d worked himself into a foul mood. She saw the snow as a wintry delight and he saw it only as an impediment to them getting out of the cabin for good.

  His thoughts were echoed by Tom, who called just after nine. “I was hoping to set up a face-to-face meeting with you and the three men we discussed the other day. Unfortunately, this weather has thrown a wrench in the plans.”

  “Yeah, I figured,” Jacob replied, trying to ignore the jiggle of Layla’s bottom as she whipped eggs in a bowl. This morning she was dressed in a pair of black jeans and a white-and-black striped sweater that clung to every curve she possessed.

  “Michael Fields turned out to be a dead end,” Tom continued.

  “Michael Fields?” Jacob frowned, for a moment unable to place the name.

  “The man in unit seven at the motel who wanted Layla to show him property,” Tom reminded him. “Turns out he’s from Texas. He’s retiring and he and his wife are looking at several small towns to relocate. They’d driven through Black Rock in the fall and were charmed. We checked him out thoroughly and he has solid alibis for all the kidnappings.”

  “So, that’s one name to strike off our very short list of suspects,” Jacob said in frustration.

  “Jacob, we’re doing everything we can.”

  “I know, I know,” Jacob replied hurriedly. “I’m just getting cabin fever.” He left the kitchen and walked into the living room. “I feel the need to be more involved. I want to find this creep and I can’t do it from here.”

  He needed some distance from Layla, who was making him breakfast like she had every morning they’d been cooped up here. He needed to escape the domestic life they were building day by day, a life that was far too appealing.

  “There’s nothing that can be done today,” Tom said. “We even had to call off the search because of the weather. It’s supposed to clear up by nightfall. Maybe tomorrow I can get you in here for those interviews. You’re the only person who has talked to this madman and I’m hoping something will come from that.”

  “Let’s hope,” Jacob agreed. By the time the two men had hung up Layla had French toast ready for them.

  She was unusually quiet during the meal and he found himself wanting to know her thoughts. “Why so quiet?” he finally asked.

  She poured more syrup over her French toast and didn’t meet his gaze. “I feel like I’m keeping you from the rest of your life, from doing what you really want to do.”

  He realized she’d been listening to his conversation with Tom and she was hurt. His heart softened. “Layla, look at me.”

  Slowly, as if with great reluctance, she met his gaze and in the depths of her beautiful blue eyes he saw a whisper of pain, an edge of guilt.

  “If it wasn’t for you I’d still be wallowing in self-pity and drinking myself into an early grave,” he said. “You brought me back to life.” As he said the words he recognized the truth of them and saw the lightening of her eyes.

  “Really?”

  “Really,” he replied. Once again he felt he was getting too close, feeling too much for her. He cleared his throat and focused back on his breakfast.

  He’d made love to her the night before and already he felt the burn of desire for her once again. He needed to get out of here, needed some distance from her. But there was nowhere to go to escape her presence in the small cabin.

  She was everywhere, in every corner of every room, her scent in the very air he breathed. He had to focus. He sat down in the recliner and picked up one of the files on the missing women. Suzy Bakersfield had been taken after her shift as a cocktail waitress at The Edge.

  Her car had been left out front of the bar and for several days the speculation was that she’d met some man and gone off with him, even though Suzy’s current boyfriend had insisted that wasn’t true.

  Jennifer Hightower, the first missing young woman, had been taken after she’d finished work at a local convenience store. And speculation was that Casey Teasdale had been taken early in the morning as she’d gotten into her car to go to work. The crime scene in all cases had been the women’s cars, but other than the button in Casey’s car, nothing else had been found. And there was no way to know for sure if that button was even connected to the crime.

  He barely glanced up as Layla came into the room and sank down on the sofa. She pulled out the journal he knew she kept and began to write in it. She wrote for only a brief time and then closed the journal, set it on the coffee table and looked at him.

  “Jacob, if you need to do something besides sit around here all day and babysit me, I’m okay with that. I could spend time with Portia or I’d even be all right staying here alone.”

  He eyed her in disbelief.

  “Seriously,” she exclaimed. “He doesn’t know we’re here and there’s no reason to believe that he’ll find us if we continue to be careful.”

  There was no question in Jacob’s mind that The Professional didn’t know their location. If he did know, something would have happened by now, another attempt would have been made on Layla.

  “It’s a moot point right now,”
he replied and gestured toward the window. “Nobody is going anywhere today.”

  “But I want you to know that you’re free to do what you need to do to catch this man. And if that means working the case outside of this cabin, then so be it.”

  He looked for signs of fear in her eyes, in her features, but saw no indication of that emotion. “Why the change of heart? It was only yesterday you were terrified when I disappeared for a few minutes to get that Christmas tree.”

  She shifted her gaze away from his and sighed. “I’m tired, Jacob. I’m tired of being here. I want my life back. I want my cat. We can’t stay here forever. I mean, what if this killer doesn’t do anything for weeks, for months?”

  She sat up taller and straightened her shoulders. “As long as he’s out there the women in this town are in danger. You know this killer better than anyone else because of your previous contact with him. Therefore, you’re the best chance we have of catching him. You need to be actively working this case, not sitting in that chair reading the facts from a file.”

  She continued to surprise him. “We’ll see,” he replied. “I’m hoping to meet with the three men who have recently moved to Black Rock at Tom’s office to see if something about their speech patterns is familiar to me.” He glanced toward the window once again. “Hopefully I can do that in the next day or two.”

  “And while you do that I’ll see if Portia wants to hang out,” she replied. “I just want this over,” she said firmly.

  Jacob stared back down at the folder in his lap. She was ready to move on, he thought. She was probably tired of his company, eager to get back to real life and other men.

  He jumped as his cell phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket and checked the caller ID. An unrecognized number. Jacob answered.

  “Good morning, Jacob,” The Professional’s altered voice came across the line. “Are you enjoying this wintry weather?”

  “What do you want?” Jacob asked, his stomach tightening with tension.

  “Ah, surely you remember that I’m a sociable kind of man.”

  “Why don’t you give me a name?” Jacob asked. “Your first name.”

 

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