by Lora Leigh
Yes, the ugly duckling was dressed in silk, she thought as she caught one woman’s overly loud statement as they passed her table.
Risa didn’t glance left or right; she followed Micah’s lead at her side on autopilot, escaping within herself as she had always done as a child.
God, she hated this.
“Risa. Risa Clay.”
She’d hoped to escape any sort of socializing with the people she had known before her kidnapping and rape. She wasn’t that lucky.
She and Micah were halfway to the table where Ian and Kira were awaiting them when two diners rose from their chairs along the path they were taking.
Risa came slowly to a stop, her gaze moving from James Walters’s long, aesthetic face to that of his wife, Corina. The couple had been acquaintances both in Atlanta and in D.C. James was one of the world’s premier heart surgeons, his wife a nurse who worked by his side.
“James. Corina.” Risa had a trick she used when she was forced to face people who had known her before. A way of staring at them while unfocusing her eyes and blurring the pity on their faces.
“Risa sweetheart.” James caught her hands and bent to place a kiss on her cheek.
He never met his goal. Micah pulled her back gently until she was against his side, his arm curved possessively around her back.
An awkward silence filled the next second.
“James, Corina, this is Micah Sloane,” she introduced him into the silence. “A friend of mine.”
“Just a friend, love?” Micah asked under his breath as though they were indeed more than what they actually were. In the space of a second she wondered exactly what they were.
“Micah, this is James and Corina Walters. James is a premier heart surgeon, and Corina the miracle nurse that works by his side.” Corina glowed at the compliment. “James, Corina, Micah’s a SEAL with the U.S. Navy stationed here in Atlanta at the moment.”
“A SEAL, how utterly exciting,” Corina murmured. “Was he the gentleman with you the other day when that nasty character tried to kidnap you? The news said a shot was fired, frightening that vicious person away. We tried to call, dear, to make certain you were okay, but you weren’t taking calls.”
Risa swallowed tightly. “Micah frightened him off. If you’ll excuse us…”
“Risa, darling, we were frantic to get hold of you and make certain you were well,” James said, his tone sincere, though his gaze sparkled with pity and a hint of confusion as he glanced at Micah. “We couldn’t believe someone was trying to harm you again.”
“Risa’s fine; aren’t you, baby?” Micah’s hand tightened at her hip. “But if you’ll excuse us, we have a table waiting.”
“Of course,” James murmured, a frown touching his clear brow as he stared down at Risa. “Please call us soon, dear. We could have lunch and catch up.”
“Of course,” she muttered the lie. She wasn’t about to call either of them.
Not that she disliked them or that there was anything wrong with them. James and Corina had been one of the few couples whom Risa had actually enjoyed talking to at one time. But that time was long ago and far away. She hadn’t been an oddity then, or a topic of gossip and speculation. And she hadn’t been submitted to their placating attention. She’d always pitied those who had been years before.
She turned her gaze away as Micah led her through the restaurant to the table where Ian and Kira were watching them curiously.
“Trouble?” Ian asked quietly as he rose from his chair.
“Nothing important,” Micah answered as he helped Risa with her chair. “Acquaintances, I believe.”
“Acquaintances are about it,” Kira said softly so her voice wouldn’t carry. “James and Corina can only be taken in small doses.”
Risa lowered her head to her plate, wishing she had found a coat or a jacket to wear now. Anything but the skimpy dress and too-small wrap. She could feel the eyes on her; her skin crawled with the sensation of those looks.
“Risa, you’re looking lovely tonight,” Ian stated as he took his seat once again.
“Thank you.” Her smile was stiff as she glanced at him.
Kira, as always, was a goddess of perfection. Her long black hair was pulled back from her face with jeweled combs, her smoky gray eyes were sensual and mysterious, and the stunning red slip dress she wore was both daring and elegant.
Ian was the perfect counterpoint to his wife. With his dark blond hair, brown eyes, and sun-darkened skin, he was amazingly handsome in a tough, masculine sort of way. And when he looked at his wife, his gaze softened with his adoration of her.
What would it be like, Risa wondered, to be loved in such a way? To turn and see that look on a man’s face?
She pushed the thought away. Now wasn’t the time to reflect on what she didn’t have. She could do that later, after Micah was gone. If she lived that long.
She stayed silent as Micah, Ian, and Kira began to chat about Atlanta. Kira and Ian had a small condo they kept in the city for long visits. They were still close to the former SEAL members he had once fought with. They were a little more than close, Risa knew. They were also a working part of the group that Micah was involved with.
“Risa, that’s a stunning dress,” Kira commented, drawing her away from her thoughts.
“Micah has exceptional taste,” she murmured a bit mockingly.
God, she was going to have to stop this. She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Kira. It’s been a long day.”
She kept her voice lowered so diners at the nearby table couldn’t overhear her.
“And to top it off, you had to deal with James and Corina.” Kira smiled in understanding. “Here’s the waiter with our wine. A few glasses and a nice dinner, and you’ll be in perfect form.”
If only it would take no more than a few glasses of wine to put everything in perfect form.
She did drink the wine, and she managed to eat most of her meal. As Ian and Micah continued to chat over drinks, she let her fingers play over the stem of her empty wineglass. The wine had helped. She didn’t drink often, and she rarely drank wine simply because of its mellowing effect on her.
“If you gentlemen will excuse us, Risa and I are going to go to the ladies’ room.” Kira rose to her feet and smiled back at Risa. “I hate going in there alone.”
No kidding. It was like a cobra pit, Risa thought, barely managing to keep from rolling her eyes. She didn’t patronize this restaurant for a reason. She and her grandmother had both agreed that only the snippiest, most condescending members of the community actually ate here.
But Risa followed Kira. She was amazed she did so without tripping over her feet as she felt the eyes following her. Thankfully, the wine had her just mellow enough that she, frankly, didn’t give a damn who watched her.
Maybe she’d had too much. She frowned at that thought as she and Kira entered the surprisingly empty ladies’ room. Kira followed Risa to the sinks where they washed their hands, dried them, and then looked around in amusement at the fact that the room was empty.
“And here I thought we’d have to fight our way in,” Kira stated with amusement.
“I prefer the silence,” Risa assured her. “So why did you drag me in here?”
“To give you a break,” Kira sighed. “Even facing off a few dozen piranhas in the ladies’ room is sometimes preferable to sitting in the middle of a restaurant and feeling their eyes on you.”
Risa shrugged. “The wine has its own saving grace,” she said with a smile.
Kira didn’t smile back. “Are things going okay with Micah?”
“Fine.” Risa nodded. She wasn’t into sharing girlish confidences in the ladies’ room.
Kira nodded. “Good then. I guess we better return before the stampede begins.”
It began as they were leaving. Risa almost smiled at the group of women bearing down on them as they moved back into the hall. Several of those women frowned in consternation as Kira and Risa passed them. Foiled again, ladies, s
he thought a bit snidely.
She knew every one of them. This little outing was turning into a damned farce.
Taking her seat once again, she stared up at Micah with what she hoped was a pleasant smile and said, “Next time, I pick the restaurant if you don’t mind.”
“I’m not much into the local drive-thru,” he murmured at her ear. “I have my manly form to think of, you know.”
She almost snorted at that. “The local drive-thru is much more polite.”
“No doubt,” he agreed. “But not nearly as enjoyable.”
He took his seat once again, his hand lingering on the back of her chair to play with her hair. Risa wanted to groan at the sensation of his fingers tugging restlessly at the strands. The sensual, seductive feel washed over her, tingling beneath her skin as she attempted to make small talk with Kira.
Unfortunately, the woman seemed to be well aware of what Micah was doing to Risa.
“Gentlemen, I’m ready to dance,” Kira finally announced. “And I’m certain the band is just waiting on me and Ian to add some excitement to the dance floor.”
Ian chuckled at that, but both men came to their feet, helped the women from their chairs, and led the way from the restaurant to the small arched tunnel that led to the connecting nightclub.
The music pulsed around her. Risa was certain she could feel the rhythm of it filling her blood.
She had once loved to dance. She had danced with her friends, other young women considered the less acceptable or less pretty of their social set. They were always invited to the parties, but they were always the ones huddled along the wall in boredom.
It had been Risa’s idea that last year, for them to hit the dance floors together. They had all loved to dance, and they had been able to enjoy the hours they were stuck at those parties that way.
For once, Risa had enjoyed the parties as well. Until the kidnapping. Until Jansen had laughed at her during that plane ride where she had found hell.
The ugly little bitch, she can’t even get a man to dance with her, he’d sneered, let alone actually fuck her.
She’d been eighteen. She had never had a boyfriend, never had a date. She’d been a virgin, and that night she’d learned how evil a father could be.
The wine was still affecting her, Risa told herself even as she crossed one leg over the opposite knee and twirled her foot to the club beat.
She wanted to dance. She wanted to give herself to the music. She didn’t have to worry about what her face looked like then, or why her lover wanted to be rid of her. She didn’t have to worry about dying; all she had to do was live within the music.
She rose to her feet, felt Micah’s hand slide down her arm until his fingers were loosely gripped around her wrist as he stared up at her.
“I want to dance,” she told him, hungering for the freedom the music had always given her. The freedom to be more than the ugly little girl she had always been.
His expression tightened, his black eyes grew impossibly blacker, sexier, as he rose from his seat. He shrugged the leather jacket he wore from his shoulders and laid it on her seat, atop her purse and wrap, as though protecting them, hiding them from view. Then he took her hand and led her to the dance floor.
MICAH HAD KNOWN that the day would come that Risa would find a way to completely blow his little mind. She’d already taken control of his cock; it stayed hard for her, and for her alone. But on the dance floor, amid dozens of dancers vying for attention, she stole another part of him. He had a feeling there was going to be very little of himself that he owned by the time this mission was over.
She danced liked a dream. The chocolate silk tunic dress shifted and shimmered over her gracefully as she moved. It did nothing to hide the heat of her flesh as he touched her, did nothing to hide the sensual, sensuous woman who lurked beneath her quiet exterior.
He watched her nipples bead harder beneath the silk, watched as her light blue eyes became leaden, sensual. Her face flushed, her lips parted, and he knew she was the center of his world at that moment.
He would die to protect her. There had been no one in his life, outside of his parents, whom he would have consciously walked into death for. For this woman, he would.
She swayed before him like temptation itself. Her arms lifted, her hips moved, and all he knew was the remembered feel of her moving beneath him.
His hands touched her, stroked down her back, along her hips. He turned her and her back rubbed against his chest as his hand flattened on her stomach, pressing the sweet curves of her ass into his cock.
She twirled with an exotic allure.
She owned him.
He could have danced with her forever. He was perfectly content to remain locked in time, right there, with the vision of her dancing just for him.
And he would have until the moment she collapsed against his chest, laughter falling from her lips as her light brightened with self-amusement.
“My legs are giving out,” she laughed. “I don’t think high heels were made for this.”
Laughter. It was the first time he’d heard her laugh, the first time he had seen that happiness shining in her eyes, and he felt his heart clench. It was the most beautiful sight in the world. A gift he would always remember.
“I’ll hold you up.” He held her against his chest, moving more slowly to the music, taking her weight and cuddling her against his chest as her arms moved to wrap around his neck.
She rested against him, swaying with him as his head bent over hers and he closed his eyes at the sneaking suspicion that walking away from her was going to flay his soul.
Her fingers played along his neck, a finger twining through the short strands of hair at the back of his head. Her nails scraped his scalp. She was a flame in his arms, seeping into his pores, chaining him when he had no desire to be chained.
“I need you.” He brushed his lips over the shell of her ear and felt her shiver. “All of you.”
“Hmm.” Her head lifted. “You had me and wanted to send me away,” she reminded him. “You’re not the weather, Micah. You can’t change from day to day on me.”
His lips quirked. “Do we want to fight tonight, Risa? Or do we want to love?”
He hadn’t meant to whisper the l word against her lips. But at the sound of it, he felt her body tighten; he swore he could feel the wash of her need singeing his body, cutting into it like dull knives as he fought the sensation.
“Love?” His shoulder cradled her head as she looked up at him. “I’m certain that wasn’t the word you meant to use, Micah.” There was a subtle, almost hidden vein of bitterness in her voice.
His lovely Risa. She had never been loved, not truly. She’d been used, she’d been hurt, but she’d never had love to balance the darkness that had filled her life.
He couldn’t answer her. He couldn’t give her hope where no hope should exist. He had to remember what came after the mission. And what came after was another mission, another danger, perhaps another identity. There was no place for love in that life.
Noah had done it, another part of him reminded himself. Noah had a home, a wife, he would soon have a child, and he balanced that life. But Noah was the nephew of the unit commander. It made a difference.
“Does the word I use matter?” Micah’s hand framed her face as he bent his head to her. “I won’t wait much longer, Risa. You don’t give a man a taste of paradise, then jerk it away from him.”
“Really?” Her head lifted, her arms slid to his shoulders. “But you can give it to a woman and then tear her away from it without a thought, can’t you, Micah?” She stopped moving and tried to draw back.
Micah held her to him, frustration and arousal biting into him as she tried to put distance between them.
“I think I need a drink—”
“Risa, is that you?”
Micah’s head jerked up; his nostrils flared in primitive anger at the sight of the man standing at their side. He wanted to push Risa behind him, wanted to get
her as far away from this primal threat as possible.
“Mac?” Amazement and laughter fell from her lips as she turned to the other man. “Oh my goodness. Mac Knight? Look at you.” Her hands reached out for his, large hands that gripped her smaller ones before the other man pulled her close for a hug. “Look how you’ve changed,” she breathed out in surprise.
Micah’s teeth almost snapped together as the younger man’s chest seemed to puff out. Dressed in jeans and a cotton shirt, he was military; there was no missing that. The way he held himself, the look in his eyes, screamed Special Ops.
“How I’ve changed?” Mac’s smile was amazed as he stood back and stared down at Risa. “Damn, Risa, you look like a million bucks.” He shook his head as though amazed before asking, “Dance with me? Just for a few minutes?” He looked to Micah as though in permission before his gaze turned to Risa again.
Micah wanted to slam his fist into the bastard’s face.
“For a minute.” Risa turned to Micah. “He’s a friend of mine. He’s been in Iraq forever. I’ll be fine.”
The hell she would be.
Micah nodded stiffly before moving back and placing his back against the thick support post at the edge of the dance floor. He hoped neither of them expected him to just tuck his tail and slink back to the table, because it wasn’t happening.
The dance mix had moved into a slower tune, a soft ballad that required the other man to take her into his arms. At least she wasn’t rubbing against him like the sensual little cat Micah knew she was. But she was too close to the other man, and for a moment Micah knew complete bloodlust.
“YOUR BOYFRIEND is upset,” Mac said as they moved to the music, his topaz eyes watching her assessingly.
That was Mac, always thinking about things, she thought fondly.
“Micah will be fine.” She gave her head a little shake before the impulse to look over at him got the better of her.
“I heard about the abduction, Risa.” Mac’s statement had her head jerking around as humilitation flared within her. “I was in Iraq with Reno when they pulled the rescue team together, and I asked to transfer to the rescue team. They denied the request. I would have found a way to get you out of that clinic if I had known.”