Kisses Like a Devil

by Diane Whiteside

  The black dog, barely visible in the darkness, charged at Sazonov and took him down, destroying her enemy’s ability to chase her. The Russian kicked and lashed out, cursing in his native language. His knife clattered onto the pavement and his bowler rolled away.

  She panted, air searing her lungs but grateful she could hear again. Morro had saved her life; now she had to do the same for him. But how?

  The wicked blade gleamed evilly on the pavement. She caught it up and tried to hold it in a fighter’s grip. But her hand was shaking too much to use it, even if she’d known how. She kicked it into a drain and it fell, bouncing and clicking and dying in a cascade of watery echoes.

  No, all they could do was run—and hope her valiant rescuer had bought them both enough time.

  She backed up, glad nobody had come to investigate. Yet.

  “Morro!” She whistled the emphatic recall Frau Masaryk had taught her years ago. She’d never honestly thought she’d need to use it.

  She picked up her skirts and waited, praying harder than she’d ever prayed before. Would he come to her?

  Morro immediately released Sazonov, as if he smelled of foul meat. He raced proudly to Meredith and planted himself in front of her, his stumpy tail thumping the paving. “Good, good boy!”

  Sazonov lurched to his feet, his face bloody—but that could have been caused by minor injuries. He took one step after her, then another, his gait moving more and more smoothly with each one. His boots must have protected his legs from any serious harm.

  She gulped and ran for the corner, as if the devil was at her heels. A doggy woof caroled into the dank sky from beside her, celebrating a battle won.

  Tears touched her eyes but she somehow ran faster, desperate to protect her small family. Heaven help them if Sazonov had servants anywhere around.

  “Meredith!”

  She slowed for a moment then speeded up again. Surely her mind was playing tricks on her, making her believe she heard Brian’s voice.

  “Meredith!”

  Morro exploded into a chorus of rapturous barks and left her side. She turned around warily, trusting his instincts more than her own.

  She stood in the hotel gardens where, with Brian, she’d once spied upon an amorous couple. A few feet away was where he’d kissed her for the first time. Surely that heated memory was enough to conjure up this phantom.

  Morro ecstatically bounced up and down, shouting his joy to the skies. Brian patted him on the head with one hand, his other hand brushing his hat over his leg. His face seemed harder, almost careworn in the hesitant light borrowed from the hotel’s environs.

  “Meredith,” he said again. “Dearest, dearest Meredith.” His voice broke and he took a step toward her.

  She flung herself into his arms and they closed around her like heaven on earth.

  For a moment, they simply held each other and she savored everything about him—the rapid beat of his heart, the heavy wool of his coat, even the stench of cordite.

  Brian was alive.

  She looked up at him to tell him something, anything about how much she cared, how much he mattered, how much she needed him more than life.

  His mouth came down on hers. She yielded, melting into him for the first time without thinking, just letting herself be a part of him.

  His tongue caressed her lips, their breath sighed together. He rumbled soft praise when he nuzzled her face before he kissed her again, this time more deeply, more ecstatically. She twined her arms around his neck, the fire flashing down through her lungs into her veins and lower. He tugged gently on her lower lip with his teeth and she moaned softly, her head falling back against his shoulder.

  “Meredith, darling, I love you.” He plunged his tongue into her mouth, possessing her, mimicking the way they’d soon make love.

  She threaded her fingers through his silken hair and pulled him closer. “Yes, please,” she murmured, blushing a little at what she’d just confessed to.

  He lifted his head and stared at her. “What did you say?”

  “Yes. Please.” Her color deepened. Morro was briskly scratching behind one ear, obviously allowing them all the time they needed to sort their affairs out.

  She ran her fingers gently down his cheek, nervous at what she was about to clearly admit. “I want you to love me.”

  Brian gasped.

  “Because I love you, too,” she finished in a rush.

  His arms locked around her so tightly all the air whooshed out of her lungs. “Meredith, my love!”

  He lifted her off the ground and swung her around as if she was a featherweight, both of them laughing like fools.

  “When will you marry me?”

  Drat. She hesitated. “I didn’t say that.”

  “Why not?” he asked carefully. Dawn was coming and she could see him much more clearly now, know he was trying not to show how much she’d hurt him. She had to speak the truth.

  “If I commit to marriage, then all the power is on my husband’s side.”

  “I would never abuse it.”

  “And with his family’s patriarch. Even if I trusted you not to abuse your rights with me…”

  He brushed his lips across her knuckles, silently reassuring her.

  “How can I trust the weapons’ plans to your family, knowing I can recreate them at any time? What happens to Eisengau’s workers?”

  He was silent.

  “Can you understand that, Brian?” Her heart was making agonized flutters in her chest.

  “Yes, of course, I can. I can even admire your dedication, while I hate the penalties.”

  He seemed to have grown older, looking at something far away.

  “I’d like to live with you in California,” she offered. “As soon as possible.”

  “You would?” He stared down at her.

  She nodded shyly. “I don’t know much about it but I’m willing to learn.”

  “You’re a brave woman, Meredith.” He hugged her, shaking a little. “Come on, let’s get all of us into that hotel so we can wash up and eat.”

  “Maybe have a nap?” she suggested hesitantly.

  “Are you sure the plans are safe where they are?” he demanded.

  She nodded, covering her mouth against a sudden yawn. “For another month, in fact.”

  “I can hardly wait to hear this explanation,” he said drily. “Come on, honey. Let’s get you and little Morro some food and shuteye before you fall down on your feet.”

  “Shuteye?”

  “If you’re going to live in the West, you need to start learning the lingo.” He tucked his hand under her elbow and headed toward the hotel.

  “Lingo?”

  “You’re the linguist, honey. You figure it out.”

  “Wretch.”

  He chuckled.

  Brian wrapped his arms around Meredith and started counting her pulse again. Her soft hair tickled his shoulder with every breath she took, reminding him she truly was sleeping with him willingly. No bargains this time, just the reservation about not getting married—because she was afraid of his father.

  Father! As if William Donovan would ever harm a woman, or make her do anything against her will.

  He snarled instinctively and Morro lifted his head from his cushion near the balcony. Sleepy dark eyes met his enquiringly and Brian shrugged a little sheepishly.

  Morro yawned and relaxed again, resting his chin on his paws. He must have worked damn hard for his lady yesterday, to be so calm today. Brian still didn’t like thinking about how thoroughly she’d checked the little terror’s body over for wounds last night.

  Damn Sazonov. He’d take a very personal pleasure in destroying that bastard, the minute he saw her to safety. When he’d seen that cut along the side of her face and heard how she’d received it—well, all he could think of were some of the older tales of how Indians took revenge.

  But she was alive and that was enough for now, her slender fingers curled over his hip and her legs twined with his. His la
dy, his love, his life—her breath warming the skin over his heart before they caught the night train to Berlin.

  At least she’d agreed to live in California. She probably wouldn’t be comfortable in San Francisco, since his parents lived there. But a house in Los Angeles would only be a day away, close enough to visit and have Mother coax her into relaxing.

  She shifted, sliding her leg higher across his thigh.

  His breath hitched in his throat. Warmth swelled from everywhere she touched, dancing across his skin like a thousand delighted fireflies. His pulse heated, thudding through his veins in slow, steady anticipation. He wasn’t about to think about those damn weapons, not when his cock was snuggling up to her hip.

  He smiled and began to trace small circles on her shoulder. Meredith would love his mother; everyone did. Or if they didn’t, they were smart enough not to mention it in front of his father. And there were his aunts and uncles, too—Hal and Rosalind, Morgan and Jessamyn, Lucas and Rachel—plus his adopted sister Portia and all his cousins. Surely somewhere in that great gaggle was somebody Meredith would want to visit often.

  She nuzzled his chest. “You’re thinking.”

  “I’m enjoying myself.” Thank God he’d been retracing the route they’d run to escape the police, trying to stamp every memory he could into his brain. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have seen her and he might have lost her forever.

  Bright sunlight sent brilliant shards of light dancing through the stained glass and over her hair, like a crown.

  “We’d have found each other again somehow. Surely we would have known somehow that each other was alive.” She swirled her tongue over his nipple, making him gasp.

  “Probably when we bumped into each other, fighting for the blueprints,” he choked out and rolled her under him.

  “I doubt that.” She shook her head, her gray eyes full of mischief. “You’ll never guess where they are.”

  “In Zorndorf’s safe, of course.”

  She sniffed and kissed him passionately on the mouth. Her long, slender fingers stroked his shoulders, awakening little devils in his muscles. He scooped her closer, hungry for her taste, savoring her scent with its heady overtones of musk.

  She broke away, panting. His eyes lingered on her rapidly rising and falling breasts with some satisfaction, despite his cock’s aggrieved complaint.

  “Too obvious,” she retorted. Her tongue slipped out to glide over her swollen lips.

  “In the city?”

  “Are we playing a game?”

  “Perhaps we should.” He cupped her breasts and bent his head to one, tracing a single blue vein with his tongue. Surely if he waited long enough before tasting her beautiful nipples, he’d regain his control and make her beg for mercy.

  Maybe.

  On the other hand, they could play this game again after she’d retrieved the plans. That would permit him to simply enjoy himself now and save tricking her for later. If he could trick her.

  “Nice try at deceiving me, mister.” She pulled his head closer, sliding her fingers through his hair and kneading his scalp.

  “Mmph,” he muttered. Warmth burned brighter, flashing between his lips and his chest.

  She wrapped her leg around his hips, rubbing herself against him like a fierce little tigress. His lady.

  Hunger pulsed between his lungs and his groin, surged into his crotch, built deep in his blood. His cock swelled stronger, reaching for her alone.

  She rubbed her foot restlessly over the back of his thigh, rocking her hips against him. Her breasts were honey to his lips, her nipples’ aching tips the finest candy, the delicate blue veins like the finest wine because they led to intoxication for both of them.

  “Roll over, mister.”

  “What?” She wanted to have a conversation at a time like this?

  She rubbed her thumbs over his cheekbones. Her eyes were glinting with laughter under their heavy lids, her lips bruised and swollen.

  His mouth went dry.

  “If you give me a condom”—Of course, he would!—“And let me be on the top, I’ll show you where the plans are.”

  She gave him a lascivious wink and slipped her hand between them to gently cup his balls. His eyes crossed from sheer, liquid pleasure and he fought not to come. Why had he taught her how to do that?

  So she could do it again, after they left Eisengau, a faint bit of sanity answered.

  He managed to nod agreement.

  She smiled happily and he grinned. What wouldn’t he have pledged, to see that look on her face?

  He grabbed a condom from the stash in the bedside drawer, while any logic survived. His checkbook had made the hotel staff very helpful when they’d arrived. A moment later, he’d applied it to his rearing cock and lay back down.

  She sighed, making him grin triumphantly in private, and knelt beside him. She reached out tentatively, her eyes enormous with hunger.

  “Anything you want, my love,” he encouraged.

  “You’re so beautiful,” she whispered.

  He flushed scarlet but his cock swelled even more. She believed that of him?

  She circled her palm over his chest, her fingers diving through the matted hair then into the line leading lower. Into, out of his fur, her fingertips explored, always going farther down—taking his breath away—until they lightly glided down his cock.

  He jerked upward, throwing himself at her mercy. His pulse pounded in his ears and his veins. His skin was so hot and tight, the slightest spark would make it explode.

  She brushed her hair over him and kissed his cock. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. He gripped her shoulders, aching to pull her upward. But if this was what she wanted, he’d give it to her.

  “Brian, my love.” His heart stopped beating.

  She came astride him. His hands slid down her shoulders, to her thighs, always staying in touch.

  She squatted and guided him into her, slowly, slowly, wet slick channel sucking fiery aching stalk. Deep muscles grabbed him and sweetly hauled him in, every agonizingly steady inch.

  But he couldn’t scrabble for patience among the bedclothes. He flung his head back on the pillow, fighting not to bruise her sweet thighs. He reached for the bedclothes, aching to shred something so he wouldn’t snatch her onto his chest, roll over, and drive himself into her like a crazed fool.

  She wobbled, nearly falling over. She isn’t a trained courtesan, you damn fool! His hands shot back to her, faster than a heartbeat, to steady her and protect himself. She needed his help—and he’d give it to her, no matter what.

  She sighed in pleasure, her eyes shuttering in pure bliss, when their bodies finally meshed. Any agony was worth that expression on her face.

  She closed her legs firmly and circled her hips experimentally and he moaned, the exquisite, unique sensations driving into places unused to such intense pleasures of body and mind. She repeated the motion but tilted her hips forward slightly.

  His eyes crossed. Sweet Jesus, perhaps they should argue about weapons more often!

  How many ways could she find to enjoy each other? A dozen? Two dozen?

  His hips rocked against her, his seed a fiery explosion barely leashed next to his spine. Cream slipped down her thighs to meet his cock, easing the eager glide of their bodies over each other.

  She was gasping for breath, rising and falling above him. Meredith chanted his name, her face taut with desperation.

  Brian pinched her nipple, giving her one last, sharp stab of pleasure and pain.

  She arched, sobbing, and finally climaxed. The great spasms racked her body above him, around him, and through him. Fire shot down his spine and out through his cock, ripping his seed from him. He shook again and again, his ears deafened by his pulse exploding through his bones.

  Somehow he caught her and rolled her under him, aching to hold onto his one true anchor.

  She was still resting against his heart when the world came back into being afterward.

  “Couldn’t stand
to be underneath for very long, could you,” she teased, a little sleepily.

  “Couldn’t stand to be very far away from you,” he corrected.

  She let the silence stretch for a moment before she answered.

  “Sweet words won’t change my mind about what to do with the plans,” she said gently.

  “Did you truly think I’d ever let you out of my sight again?”

  “No, thank God.” Her voice broke on a little sob and he held her closer.

  “We can solve anything together, darling. I don’t know how we’ll manage to make both of us happy but we’ll do it somehow.”

  “Together.” She kissed him gently on the cheek.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “First, we need to regain the plans.” Brian tapped his forefinger, his face lost in thought under the very Germanic woolen hat. They’d both acquired local costumes at the hotel, which wasn’t a hardship. She didn’t want to ever see again the clothes Sazonov had recognized her in. Hers had the delightful—and pragmatic—advantage of hanging a few inches off the ground.

  Plus, he was wearing a map case, whose long narrow shape would be perfect for carrying the plans.

  “We can do that very easily, so long as it’s daylight.” She studied the university’s back entrance. They were standing in student lodgings across the street, which were vacant for the summer. The small room was minimally furnished, although its usual rent was exorbitant.

  The cathedral was ringing the passing bell again for Grand Duke Rudolph, calling the faithful to pray for his soul. She suspected more would answer the joyous carillons at Grand Duke Nicholas’s coronation than this steady, dolorous call.

  “Second, we have to catch the train for Berlin,” Brian went on, after only a moment’s pause.

  She smiled at him. It was time to start showing her hand. “Actually, first, we need to obtain the materials to destroy the plans—should affairs go wrong and Sazonov lay his hands on them.”

  “Are you sure, Meredith?” Brian stared at her.

  “After last night, I know Sazonov will do—anything to obtain them. The workers would gain nothing but America and Britain would be, ah, greatly damaged.” She wasn’t used to fumbling for words, let alone changing her mind.