More Than a Man

by Rebecca York

  When her mind blanked out, Noah came to her rescue. “Some iced tea,” he said. “And some sandwiches. Chicken or beef or ham?” He looked at her again.

  “Fine,” she answered, probably wondering how long it would take her to get used to this lifestyle.

  JARRED Bainbridge struggled to control his fury. After the screwup by the local guy he’d used, he’d sent a crack team to Las Vegas to round up Noah Fielding, but apparently the man was no longer in the gambling paradise.

  “You say you found out what hotel he’d moved to, but he checked out?” he asked in a dangerously quiet voice.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Where is he now, do you think?” he asked, the question sounding almost conversational, but anybody who knew Jarred Bainbridge would be wary of his tone.

  “Because he has a contract with a company that flies private jets, we’re going through their records now and we’ll be able to tell you where he went.”

  “According to the information he gave the Las Vegas PD, he has an apartment in San Francisco. But he might not have gone there.”

  “You have the address?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “When you figure out where to find him, I want a plan to bring him here,” Jarred said. “And if I don’t get results very quickly, you will be looking for a new job.”

  Ignoring the threat, his man said, “The woman is with him.”

  “And?”

  “She was driven to the plane in an ambulance. She must be important to him. I believe there’s a way to use her to get to him.”

  Jarred had been thinking along those lines, too. But he wanted some input. “What do you suggest?”

  “We located the brother. He’s a petty criminal and a bitter man. He blames her for his current troubles. He may have already tried to kill her. I believe we can have his full cooperation in getting her back, if we promise to turn her over to him. And I believe he is absolutely ruthless.”

  “Good,” Jarred answered. He was feeling cautiously optimistic again.

  OLIVIA gave Noah and Thomas a considering look. “So do I get some information along with the food?”

  Thomas kept his expression neutral, but he shifted in his seat, and Noah was sorry he’d put his old friend into a delicate situation. Another reason why he should have thought through this whole scenario.

  Thomas answered with a catalog of the estate’s amenities. “We have a full gym. An indoor-outdoor swimming pool. An excellent library, including a collection of DVDs. The latest computer equipment. Satellite TV. A well-stocked kitchen. Horses and riding trails. And Maria, one of the staff, does my wife’s hair. You can also avail yourself of her services.”

  “This is a very self-contained place,” Olivia murmured.

  “Yes. And if we don’t have it here, we can get it for you.” Thomas stood up. “I’ll go tell Margarita to get started on the food.”

  When the man had left, Olivia looked at Noah. “Am I free to wander around?”

  “Of course. But you probably shouldn’t go into the labs alone.”

  “What labs?”

  “They’re across the courtyard from the main house. I have a number of experiments going. Some of them on longevity.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m also fiddling with some electronics equipment.”

  She nodded, then leaned back and closed her eyes.

  “Maybe after you eat, you should get some rest,” he suggested.

  Her eyes snapped open again. “Maybe you’re right. But I’d like to sleep in our room, if that’s all right.”

  “Yes. Yes, of course,” Noah answered.

  The food came very quickly, and he could imagine Margarita in the kitchen, cracking the whip to make sure they impressed the woman who was now Mr. Noah’s wife.

  While Olivia was nibbling on a turkey sandwich, he wolfed down a roast beef and a ham sandwich.

  “Not hungry?” he asked.

  “Maybe after I get some rest.” When she started to push herself up, he helped her, then showed her down the hall to his room, trying to see it through her eyes.

  It was very spartan and very masculine.

  She stared around. “It looks like a monk lives here.”

  He laughed. “I did spend some time at a monastery long ago. It taught me lessons in simplicity.”

  “Is there anything you haven’t done?”

  “Not much.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I know this has to be overwhelming.”

  “You have a gift for understatement.”

  He laughed again, then pulled the spread and cover aside. “I guess so.” Remembering that her suitcase was in the spare room, he said, “I’ll get your bag.”

  “I’d rather just sleep in one of your shirts.”

  “Okay.”

  Because it was chilly in the bedroom, he chose a soft wool shirt and brought it back to her.

  She’d already pulled off her slacks and blouse, and he caught his breath as he took in her body again. This time the bandage over her knife wound seemed to only accentuate her tiny waist. His fingers itched to touch her smooth skin there, to trail downward to her…

  He stopped his imagination cold.

  Before he could start anything he shouldn’t finish, he merely helped her into the shirt and into bed.

  “We’ll talk at dinner. What do you want?”

  “I can have anything I want?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Barbecued chicken, potato salad, baked beans.”

  “Done. You sleep. I’ll come and wake you in a couple of hours.”

  Glad to escape, he stepped out of the room and closed the door. He was out of practice living with anyone and he’d have to brush up his husband skills.

  First he stopped at the kitchen to order dinner, which took longer than he expected because everyone wanted to congratulate him. They also wanted him to tell them about Olivia, so he told them she had been a dancer, then made his escape as quickly as possible.

  Then he went to his office. After closing the door, he booted his computer, checked his mail and got the number of the Light Street Detective Agency in Baltimore.

  A man named Hunter Kelley answered.

  “This is Noah Fielding.”

  Kelley’s tone immediately turned wary. “How can I help you?”

  “Actually, I was impressed with the work you did for Eddie Carlson’s brother. I’d like to hire you. Unless it’s against the rules.”

  The man whistled through his teeth. “It’s not against the rules. Just unusual for someone we’ve located for another client to turn around like that. What can we do for you?”

  “I’d like to know who’s trying to either kill me or capture me.”

  “Gary Carlson’s back in Baltimore,” Kelley informed him. “He says he doesn’t have any further need for our services.”

  “I don’t think it’s him. This must not be my month, because somebody else has it in for me.”

  “You lead a busy life.”

  “I try not to. But things have gotten kind of…crazy lately.”

  When he started to elaborate, Kelley stopped him. “This is our public line. We have a secure computer hookup where we can set up a videoconference call. You can talk to several of our agents.”

  “That sounds fine.”

  “Can you wait until tomorrow morning? Or are you in immediate danger?”

  “I’m back home, which is a pretty secure environment.”

  They made an appointment, and Noah got off the phone. Thinking he would check on Olivia, he went back to his room.

  When she wasn’t in her bed, panic seized him.

  A noise from his closet sent him rushing through the door where he found Olivia pawing through his things.

  As she looked up wide-eyed, a million thoughts rushed through his head—none of them good. He’d impulsively married this woman and brought her home—and now she was spying on him.

  Chapter Ten

  Olivia
saw the instant mistrust in Noah’s eyes and her stomach balled into a tight knot. Suddenly, she was seeing another side to this man whom she’d married in such haste.

  “What exactly are you doing?” he asked in a voice that could have etched glass.

  As she took in his tone and his rigid stance, she went cold all over, wondering if he was going to believe what she said. “I…” Her throat clogged and she had to start again. “The shirt you gave me must be wool. It’s making me itch and I need something else to wear.” She gestured over her shoulder. “You have all these expensive shirts. I’m looking for something I won’t ruin…if I used it as a nightgown.”

  The tight expression on his face eased, along with some of the tension coursing through her.

  She wanted to tell him that a husband and wife had to trust each other, but she wondered if it could be true in this case. Could he ever trust her? Or was he just not used to sharing his life with someone?

  Feeling like she was rushing headlong into the unknown, she watched him stride into the closet, rifle through the contents and grab what looked like a perfectly good dress shirt.

  “How about this one?”

  She came from a family where clothing purchases were carefully considered, and your possessions carefully cared for. Well, that was how she’d looked at it. Pearson hadn’t been quite so frugal.

  “I’ll muss it up.”

  “That’s not a problem. We have very good laundry service here.”

  She accepted the shirt and started to unbutton the one she was wearing, but her fingers were too clumsy to accomplish the simple task.

  When he reached to help her, their hands collided.

  “Let me do it,” he said, his voice suddenly thick.

  “Okay.”

  She tried not to tremble as he unbuttoned the shirt, slipped it off her shoulders and put on a new one. Apparently he wasn’t looking directly at her, and she felt his hand stiffen when he realized she’d taken off her bra after he’d left the bedroom.

  His gaze dropped to her breasts, taking in the tight points of her nipples, then quickly closed the shirt, covering her.

  “You thought I was spying on you,” she said in a voice that wasn’t quite steady.

  She saw him swallow.

  “I wasn’t. I’m not a spy. I’m just what I seem to be. No more, no less.” She forced herself to add, “But now you’re thinking you rushed into marrying me.”

  “It’s hard for me to trust people.”

  “But you took a chance on me. That’s a good start.” She kept her gaze on him. “What can I do to make things right between us?”

  “You’re a very wise woman, with excellent instincts. Just be yourself. Don’t do things or not do them because you’re calculating how I’ll react.”

  “Okay.” She caught his hands and cupped them over her breasts. “I think I know how you’ll react to this.”

  “I thought we agreed not to do anything now,” he said in a gritty voice.

  “You told me to trust my instincts. I want you. And I want to give back the pleasure you gave me.”

  And I want this to be a real marriage, she silently added. She wasn’t sure what that meant in this case; she only knew that things hadn’t started off very well between them.

  They’d both rushed along on a course of action that would seem insane when examined closely. Now she wanted to make things normal. If they could be normal.

  Reaching between them, she curled her fingers around his erection through the fabric of his slacks.

  An exclamation hissed out of him.

  “I like that reaction,” she whispered as she brought her lips to his.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Very,” she answered, then followed the assurance with the passion of her kiss.

  When their lips finally broke apart, they were both trembling, and she had to hook her hands over his shoulders to keep from swaying dangerously.

  “You need to get off your feet.”

  “That’s a good plan.”

  He scooped her up and carried her back into the bedroom, then laid her on the bed.

  Looking behind him, he stared at the open door and made a low exclamation.

  “Be right back.”

  He crossed the room quickly and locked the door. While he was gone, she slipped out of the shirt, then pulled the covers to the tops of her breasts.

  Turning, he gave her a warm look. “I think we can put this on a more equal footing.”

  Quickly he pulled off his shirt. When he reached for his belt buckle, she said, “Not so fast.”

  “Why not?”

  “I want to look at you,” she answered. That was true, but she was also a little nervous. “I like your chest. It’s broad and muscular.”

  “I thought chest hair was out, judging from the guys I see in the movies.”

  “I like it. It looks masculine. And I like the way it feels.”

  “Against your breasts?” he asked, his voice sultry.

  “Against my breasts. And my fingers,” she answered, feeling her temperature rise as she spoke.

  She hadn’t thought she could get playful with this scene, but she found she liked it. And she could see he was enjoying himself. Slowly, he worked the buckle on his belt, then lowered the zipper of his slacks.

  “Should I try to find some music to strip by?” he asked.

  “The visuals are enough to push me to boiling point.”

  With a grin, he slicked his pants down his legs and kicked them out of the way, leaving him wearing black briefs. There was a confidence in his stance that she admired. He knew his body was in good shape and he didn’t pretend otherwise.

  “Nice.” She swallowed. “Now I’d like to see the rest.”

  He grinned again. Then his expression turned serious as he pulled down the briefs and stepped out of them.

  Her breath caught as her gaze fastened on his erection. It was large and firm and stood straight up against his body. In response, moisture gathered between her legs.

  They hadn’t touched each other, yet she was aroused. Very aroused.

  “Your turn,” he said. “Pull down the covers so I can see you.”

  “That’s fair,” she said, her voice going breathy.

  She kept her gaze fixed on him as she grabbed the edge of the sheet and dragged it slowly downward, the fabric seeming to abrade her skin as it traveled down her overheated flesh.

  The smoldering look in his eyes sent her temperature shooting up several more degrees.

  Still, she held her breath until she heard him say, “Beautiful. You’re so beautiful.”

  Their eyes locked as he walked toward her, then sat on the edge of the bed. Her whole body tingled as she waited for him to gather her in his arms.

  Instead, he reached out to stroke her collarbone. The light touch sent a firestorm through her.

  It grew more intense as he stroked her arms, the ribs on her good side, the indentation of her waist, the outsides of her thighs. Everywhere that shouldn’t jolt up her need but did.

  She moved restlessly on the bed. “Please,” she gasped out.

  “What do you want?”

  “You know.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Touch my breasts. Between my legs.”

  The look in his eyes was enough to scald her as he lightly brushed the backs of his fingers against her nipples.

  “Harder…” she begged.

  “Like this?” he asked, turning his hands over and taking her between his thumbs and forefingers, squeezing gently, and then harder as he watched her reaction.

  She surged toward him, then grabbed one of his hands, dragging it downward toward the throbbing place between her legs.

  He obliged her, dipping into her folds, feeling the swollen wetness there.

  “I need you inside me,” she begged, reaching to close her hand around his erection, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to hold back.

  He made a sound low in his throat.

&nb
sp; “Your injury isn’t healed. I don’t want to hurt you. Let’s try this way.” He helped her up, turning her to the side of the bed where he still sat with his feet on the floor.

  She understood what he intended and straddled his lap. As she stood with her legs on either side of his knees, their eyes locked. Slowly, building the anticipation, she lowered herself, bringing his erection inside her.

  They both gasped at the joining, and she surged upward, then came down on him again. Instead of allowing her to continue, he pressed his hands against her thighs, holding her in place.

  His gaze stayed locked with hers. “I want both of us to remember this.”

  “Not much chance of my forgetting,” she managed to say.

  He let go of her thighs, and she moved again, frantic to bring them both to completion.

  He reached down with one hand, stroking her sensitive core, while he used the other to play with her breasts.

  The twin pleasures kindled an explosion that flashed through her, and she gasped as climax took her.

  He cried out as he followed her, his face a study of intense awareness.

  They clung together for long moments. Finally he helped her off his lap, then settled her in the bed again. Pulling up the covers, he lay beside her cradling her in his arms.

  She snuggled against him, feeling safe and secure for the first time in…she couldn’t exactly remember when.

  “Well, we know we suit,” he said.

  “Suit?”

  “I mean suit each other in bed.” He turned his head toward her. “I guess that’s a kind of old-fashioned phrase.”

  “Where did you pick it up?”

  “I used to read a lot of eighteenth-century novels.”

  “Why?”

  “One of my strange hobbies.”

  She nodded against his shoulder. He was quiet again, and she wanted to simply drift on the euphoria of the moment.

  But he cleared his throat. “I know I’m not going to be the easiest guy to live with.”

  “We both want it to work.”

  “Yes.” Now that he’d brought up the subject, she felt a question burning behind her lips. After dragging in a breath and letting it out, she asked, “Are you going to tell me your secrets?”

  His voice stayed relaxed, but she felt his muscles stiffen. “What makes you think I have secrets?”