by Linda Howard
She was naked. The warm air brushed against her bare skin with the lightest of touches, and then she felt his fingertips doing the same, trailing so gently over each of the dark marks on her shoulders, her arms and breasts, her stomach, that she barely felt him. “Lean down,” he said.
Slowly she obeyed, guided by his hands, down, down—and he lifted his head, meeting her mouth with his.
Their first kiss…and they’d already made love. Barrie was shocked at how she could have been so foolish as to forgo the pleasure of his kisses. His lips were firm, warm, hungry. She sank against him with a little sound of mingled surprise and delight humming in her throat. Her breasts flattened against him, the crisp hair on his chest rasping her ultrasensitive nipples, another joy she had unknowingly skipped.
Oh, this was delicious. His tongue probed for entrance, and she immediately gave it.
Several minutes later he let his head drop to the blanket. He was panting slightly, his eyes heavy-lidded. “I have another question.”
“What?” She didn’t want to give up the delights of his mouth. She’d never enjoyed kissing so much before, but he was diabolically good at it. She followed him down, nipping at his lower lip, depositing hot little kisses.
He chuckled beneath her mouth. The deep, rusty sound charmed her. She sensed that his laughter was even rarer than his smiles, therefore doubly precious.
“Will you let me be on top this time?”
The question surprised her into laughter. She stifled it as best she could, burying her head against his neck, but her body shook with giggles. He slipped out of her, making her laugh even harder. She was still laughing when he wrapped one strong arm around her and rolled, lifting her so they didn’t roll off the blanket, efficiently tucking her beneath him and settling between her legs. Her laughter caught on a gasp as he surged heavily into her.
Her senses swam as she was bombarded by new feelings, when she had already experienced so much. She’d known he was a big man, but lying beneath him sharply brought home the difference in their sizes. Though he propped his weight on his forearms to keep from crushing her, she still felt the heaviness of that iron-muscled body. His shoulders were so broad that he dwarfed her, wrapped around her, shielded her. When she had been on top, she had controlled the depth of his penetration. The control was his now, her thighs spread wide by his hips. He felt bigger, harder than he had before.
He waited a moment to see how she would accept the vulnerability of her position. But she didn’t feel vulnerable, she realized. She felt utterly secure, buffered by his strength. Tremulously she smiled at him and lifted her arms to wind them around his neck.
He smiled in return. And then Zane Mackenzie made love to her.
Chapter 6
There seemed to be scarcely a moment for the rest of the day when they weren’t making love, resting from making love or about to make love. The sounds of the waterfront surrounded them, the low bellow of ships, truck horns, the sounds of chains and cranes, but inside that small, dim room there seemed to be nothing else in the world but each other. Barrie lost herself in the force of his unbridled sensuality and discovered within herself a passion that matched his. The need to be quiet only added to the intensity.
He kissed the bruises on her breasts and sucked her nipples until they throbbed with pleasure. His beard-stubbled chin rasped against her breasts, her belly, but he was always careful not to cause her pain as he searched for all the other bruises on her body and paid them the same tender homage.
“Tell me how they hurt you,” he murmured, “and I’ll make it better.”
At first Barrie shied away from divulging the details, even to him, but as the hot afternoon wore on and he pleasured her so often she was drunk with the overload on her senses, it began to seem pointless to keep anything from him. Haltingly she began to whisper things to him.
“Like this?” he asked, repeating the action that had so upset her—except it wasn’t the same. What had been meant to punish at the hands of the kidnappers became purest pleasure in Zane Mackenzie’s hands. He caressed her until her body forgot those other touches, until it remembered only him.
She whispered another detail, and he wiped out that memory, too, replacing the bad with caresses that lifted her to peak after sensual peak. She couldn’t imagine being handled more tenderly than he handled her, or with such delight. He didn’t try to hide how much he enjoyed looking at her, touching her, making love to her. He reveled in her body, in the contrast between her soft curves and his hard muscularity. It aroused her to be the focus of such intense masculine pleasure, to feel his absorption with the texture of her skin, the curve of her breast, the snug sheathing between her legs. He explored her; he petted her, he drowned her in sexuality. The area around them was still so busy they didn’t dare converse much, so they communicated with their bodies.
Three times, while they were lying drowsily in the aftermath of loving, he checked his watch and reached for the headset radio. He would click it once, listen, then put it aside.
“Your men?” she asked, after the first time.
He nodded. “They’re hiding out, waiting until it’s safe to rendezvous.”
Then the chatter of voices outside became louder as some people approached, and they fell silent.
The afternoon wore on, and the light began to dim. She wasn’t particularly hungry, but Zane insisted that she eat. He pulled up his pants; she once more donned his shirt. More formally attired now, they sat close together on the blanket and finished off the bread and fruit, but neither of them wanted any of the cheese. The water was warm and still tasted of chemicals. Barrie sat within the curve of his arm and dreaded leaving.
She wanted to be safe and comfortable again, but she hated to lose this closeness with Zane, this utter reliance and companionship and intimacy. She wouldn’t push him to continue their relationship; under the circumstances, he might feel responsible and think he would have to let her down gradually, and she didn’t want to put him in that position. If he indicated that he wanted to see her afterward, then…why, then her heart would fly.
But even if he did, it would be difficult for them to see each other regularly. He was more than just a military man; he was a SEAL. Much of what he did couldn’t be discussed. He would have a home base, duties, missions. If they escaped safely, the danger to him didn’t end there. A chill settled around her heart when she thought of the times in the future when, because it was his job, he would calmly and deliberately walk into a deadly situation. While they were hidden in this small room might be the only time she could ever be certain he was safe and unharmed.
The fear and uncertainty would almost drive her mad, but she would endure them, she would endure anything, for the opportunity to see him, to grow closer to him. Their relationship, if there was to be one, would have to grow in reverse. Usually people came to know each other, grew to trust and care, and then became lovers; they had become lovers almost immediately, and now they would have to get to know each other, find out all the quirks and personal history and tastes that made them individuals.
When she got back, she would have to deal with her father. He must be frantic, and once she was safely home, he would be even more paranoid and obsessive. But if Zane wanted her, she would have to deliberately hurt her father’s feelings for the first time in her life; he would be supplanted as number one in her life. Most parents handled the change in their offsprings’ lives with happiness, assuming the chosen mate was decent, but Barrie knew it wouldn’t matter who she fell in love with, her father would be opposed to him. No man, to him, was good enough for her. Even more, he would bitterly resent anything that would take her out of his protection. She was all he had left of his family, and it didn’t help that she greatly resembled her mother. As ambassador, her father had a very active social life, but he’d only ever loved one woman, and that was her mother.
She would never turn her back on her father, because she loved him dearly, but if the chance for a relationship,
possibly a lifetime, with Zane was in the balance, she would put as much distance between herself and her father as necessary until he accepted the situation.
She was planning her life around dreams, she thought wryly as she brushed the bread crumbs from the blanket. She would do better to let the future take care of itself and concern herself with how they were going to get out of Benghazi.
“What time do we leave?”
“After midnight. We’ll give most people time to get settled down for the night.” He turned to her with the heavy-lidded gaze she had already learned signaled arousal and, reaching out, he began to unbutton her shirt. “Hours,” he whispered.
Afterward they lay close together, despite the heat, and dozed. She didn’t know how long it was before she woke, but when she did it was to almost total darkness. Unlike the night before, though, when she had lain in cold, lonely terror, now she was pressed against Zane’s side, and his arms securely held her. Her head was pillowed on his shoulder, one bare leg was hooked over his hips. She stretched a bit and yawned, and his arms tightened, letting her know that he was awake. Perhaps he had never slept at all, but had held her and safeguarded her. The noise beyond the ruined building had died down; even the sounds from the docks were muted, as if the darkness smothered them.
“How much longer?” she asked, sitting up to fumble for the jug of water. She found it and drank; the taste wasn’t too bad, she decided. Maybe she was becoming used to the chemicals, whatever they were.
He peeled the cover from his watch so he could see the luminous dial. “Another few hours. I need to check in with the guys in a couple of minutes.”
She passed the water jug to him, and he drank. They lay back down, and she cuddled close. She put her right hand on his chest and felt the strong, healthy thudding of his heart. Idly she twirled her fingers in the crisp hairs, delighting in the textures of his body.
“What happens then? When we leave, I mean.”
“We get out of the city, make our rendezvous point just at sunrise, and we’re picked up.”
He made it sound so simple, so easy. She remembered the swim trunks he wore and lifted her head to frown at him, even though she knew he couldn’t see her. “Is our rendezvous point on dry land?”
“Not exactly.”
“I see. I hope you have a boat?” It was a question, not a statement.
“Not exactly.”
She caught his chest hairs and gave them a tug. “Exactly what do you have?”
“Ouch!” Snagging her hand, he disentangled it and lifted it to his mouth, lightly brushing his lips across her knuckles. “Exactly, we have a Zodiac, a seven-man, motorized inflatable craft. My team came in short two men, so there are only six of us. We’ll be able to fit you in.”
“I’m so glad.” She yawned and snuggled her head more securely into the hollow of his shoulder. “Did you leave someone behind so there would be room for me?”
“No,” he said shortly. “We’re undermanned because of a problem I’ll have to take care of when we get back. If there had been any other team available, we wouldn’t be here, but we were the closest, and we needed to get you out in a hurry, before they moved you.”
His tone dissuaded her from asking about the problem that put him in such a black mood, but she’d seen him in action; she knew she wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of his anger when he got back. She waited while he picked up the headset and checked in with his men, then returned to her questions.
“Where do we go in the Zodiac?”
“Out to sea,” he said simply. “We radio ahead, and we’ll be picked up by a helicopter from the Montgomery, an aircraft carrier. You’ll be flown home from the carrier.”
“What about you?” she whispered. “Where will you go?” That was as close as she would allow herself to get to asking him about his future plans.
“I don’t know. My team was performing exercises on the Montgomery, but that’s blown to hell now, with two of them injured. I’ll have to clean up that mess, and I don’t know how long it will take.”
He didn’t know where he would be, or if he did, he wasn’t saying. Neither was he saying that he would call her, though he did know where she would be. Barrie closed her eyes and listened painfully to all that he wasn’t saying. The hurt was worse than she’d anticipated, but she closed it off in a place deep inside. Later it would come out, but if she only had a few hours left with him, she didn’t intend to waste them crying about what might have been. Few women would have a chance to even know a man like Zane Mackenzie, much less love him. She was greedy; she wanted it all, wanted everything, but even this little bit was more than a lot of people experienced, and she would have to be grateful for that.
Whatever happened, she could never return to the safe little cocoon her father had fashioned for her. She couldn’t let herself forget the kidnapping and the unknown why of it. Of course, her father would know why; the kidnapper would already have made his demands. But Barrie wanted to know the reason, too; after all, she had been more directly affected than anyone else.
Lightly Zane touched her nipple, circling it with his callused fingertips and bringing it erect. “I know you have to be sore,” he said, sliding his hand down her belly to nestle it between her legs. “But can you take me again?” With the utmost care he eased one long finger into her; Barrie winced, but didn’t flinch away from him. Yes, she was sore; she had been sore since the first time. She had discovered that the discomfort was easily discounted when the rewards were so great.
“I could be persuaded,” she whispered, sliding her hand down his belly to measure his immediate seriousness. She found that he was very serious. Granted, she had no experience against which to compare this, but she had read magazine articles and knew that usually only teenage boys and very young men could maintain this pace. Maybe it was because he was in such superb physical condition. Maybe she was just lucky, though twenty-four hours before she hadn’t thought so. But circumstances had changed, and so had she.
Fate had given her this man for now, and for a few more hours, she thought as he leaned over her and his mouth captured hers. She would make the most of it.
Once more he led her through the maze of alleys, but this time she was clad in the enveloping black robe, and a chador covered her hair. Her feet were protected by slippers, which were a little too big and kept slipping up and down on her heels, but at least she wasn’t barefoot. It felt strange to have on clothes, especially so many, even though she was bare underneath the robe.
Zane was once more rigged out with his gear and weaponry, and with the donning of those things he had become subtly more remote, almost icily controlled, the way he’d been the night before when he’d first found her. Barrie sensed his acute alertness and guessed that he was concentrating totally on the job at hand. She silently followed him, keeping her head a little bowed as a traditional Muslim woman would do.
He halted at the corner of a building and sank to his haunches, motioning for her to do the same. Barrie copied him and took the extra precaution of drawing the chador across her face.
“Two, this is One. How’s it looking?” Once more he was speaking in that toneless whisper that barely carried to her, though she was right behind him. After a moment he said, “See you in ten.”
He glanced around at Barrie. “It’s ago. We don’t have to shift to Plan C.”
“What was Plan C?” she whispered.
“Run like hell for Egypt,” he said calmly. “It’s about two hundred miles due east.”
He would do it, too, she realized. He would steal some kind of vehicle and go for it. His nerves must be made of solid iron. Hers weren’t; she was shaking inside with nervousness, but she was holding up. Or maybe it wasn’t nervousness; maybe it was exhilaration at the danger and excitement of action, of escaping. As long as they were still in Benghazi, in Libya, they hadn’t really gotten free.
Ten minutes later he stopped in the shadow of a dilapidated warehouse. Perhaps he clicked his
radio; in the dark, she couldn’t tell. But suddenly five black shapes materialized out of the darkness, and they were surrounded before she could blink.
“Gentlemen, this is Miss Lovejoy,” Zane said. “Now let’s get the hell out of Dodge.”
“With pleasure, boss.” One of the men bowed to Barrie and held out his hand. “This way, Miss Lovejoy.”
There was a certain rough élan about them that she found charming, though they didn’t let it interfere with the business at hand. The six men immediately began moving out in choreographed order, and Barrie smiled at the man who’d spoken as she took the place he had indicated in line. She was behind Zane, who was second inline behind a man who moved so silently, and blended so well into the shadows, that even knowing he was there, sometimes she couldn’t see him. The other four men ranged behind her at varying distances, and she realized that she couldn’t hear them, either. In fact, she was the only one of the group who was making any noise, and she tried to place her slippered feet more carefully.
They wound their way through the alleys and finally stopped beside a battered minibus. Even in the darkness Barrie could see the huge dents and dark patches of rust that decorated the vehicle. They stopped beside it, and Zane opened the sliding side door for her. “Your chariot,” he murmured.
Barrie almost laughed as he handed her into the little bus: if she hadn’t had experience navigating long evening gowns, she would have found the ankle-length robe awkward, but she managed it as if she was a nineteenth-century lady being handed into a carriage. The men climbed in around her. There were only two bench seats; if there had ever been a third one in the back, it had long since been removed, perhaps to make room for cargo. A wiry young black man got behind the steering wheel, and Zane took the other seat in front. The eerily silent man who had been on point squeezed in on her left side, and another SEAL sat on her right, carefully placing her in a human security box. The other two SEALs knelt on the floorboard behind them, their muscular bodies and their gear filling the limited space.