Vows

by Rochelle Alers

  She manuevered in front of him and the whisper of his breath on the nape of her neck caused a shiver to shake her body; she was certain Joshua had registered it as he moved closer until his chest was pressed flush against her back. The heat from his body seeped into hers, bringing with it a wave of moisture between her breasts.

  “Because you’re right-handed,” he said quietly near her ear, “you’ll grip the handle of the cue stick loosely in that hand.” He slipped the smooth length of wood in her right hand. “Lean forward slightly,” he continued, “and rest your left hand on the edge of the table.”

  Vanessa couldn’t concentrate on what he was saying. She felt every bone, muscle, and curve of his body molded intimately against her back and buttocks, and she knew she had made a mistake not telling him that she knew how to play pool, because every nerve in her body tingled with rising desire.

  Savoring the clean masculine smell of him as he pressed closer, she knew she couldn’t deny the pulsing knot that formed in her stomach and moved lower with a slow, hot ache between her thighs.

  “Joshua.” His name was a shivering whisper. She was unable to disguise her desperation and her vulnerability.

  He leaned even closer. “What’s the matter, Angel?”

  “Please.”

  His mouth brushed over her left ear. “Please what?”

  She was trapped, between his body, the table, and the potency of the force field he exuded so effortlessly. Closing her eyes, she wondered what was she doing with this man who had seemingly cast a spell over her so that she couldn’t escape him.

  “How do you expect me to trounce you if you won’t teach me the game?”

  His warm breath singed the back of her neck. “I am teaching you.”

  She opened her eyes, smiling. “I don’t see anyone else in the room using your method, Professor Kirkland.”

  “That’s because none of their students look the way you do.”

  “Let me go, Professor. The bell just rang signaling the end of class.” Her words were playful, but the meaning wasn’t. He stepped back and Vanessa was able to breathe normally for the first time in more than two minutes. Turning, she glanced up, and her smile widened when she saw the broad grin Joshua gave her.

  “I thought you needed a little remediation,” he offered as an apology.

  “Let me try it on my own. Then you’ll be able to assess whether I need remediation.”

  Picking up his own cue, he chalked it, saying, “I’ll break, and then you’re on your own.”

  Vanessa watched the lean body swathed in pristine white as he drove his cue stick into the white ball, scattering others over the green felt, and three of them rolled into two leather-laced pockets at the corners of the table.

  “Very nice, Joshua.” He smiled at her, nodded, and stepped away from the table.

  Inhaling, she gripped the handle of her cue loosely in her right hand while anchoring the tip between the first and second fingers of her left hand. It was over before it began as she drove all of the balls into the pockets in three moves.

  She didn’t have to look at Joshua to see his stunned expression. “Rack them,” she ordered, chalking her cue.

  Silently, he complied, folded his arms over his chest, and stood back watching as she slowly and methodically drove all of the balls into the pockets. Vanessa was unaware that all play at the other tables had stopped, the men moving closer and staring at her in disbelief.

  I’ve been had, Joshua thought, his mouth tightening in annoyance. But the emotion faded quickly, admiration taking its place. Unfolding his arms, he applauded slowly, the sound shattering the stunned silence in the large room. Soon the other occupants applauded, and Vanessa lowered her head in a modest gesture.

  Amusement shimmering in her eyes, she flashed a hypnotic smile, her gaze sweeping over the men standing around the table. “Would anyone like a turn with me?”

  Before any of the men could accept her offer, Joshua moved to her side, the fingers of his left hand curving firmly around her upper arm. “You’ll only go one-on-one with me,” he warned softly.

  Her eyebrows shifted upward in an expression of innocence. “I won’t take their money, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  He glanced over his shoulder, his cold glare drilling the men standing around and watching the interchange between himself and Vanessa. Turning, they went back to what they were doing before she began her awesome exhibition.

  His cold gaze shifted back to her. “I’m not worried about you taking anyone’s money.”

  “Then, what is it?” she asked, meeting his steady gaze with her own.

  “I didn’t bring you here to share you with other men.”

  She didn’t have to search for the meaning behind his words, because after three days Vanessa knew Joshua to say exactly what he meant. Despite this, a flicker of anxiety still coursed through her.

  The smoldering flame she saw in his gaze warmed her, and her body overrode her common sense when it ached for his touch. His attraction appealed to her vanity, and the depth of her femininity that no man had been able to penetrate. Without touching her he was able to elicit a profound sexual longing. A longing that intensified with every second she remained in his presence.

  “There’s no need for jealousy, Joshua,” she said glibly. “I’m sharing a suite with you, not these other men.”

  But what I want is for you to share my bed, he thought. His need to extract information from her was no longer paramount. Having Vanessa and making her his own had taken precedence.

  His grip on her arm loosened, the fingers caressing the silken skin below the sleeve of her T-shirt. “That you are.”

  The three words swept over Vanessa like a shimmering wave of sunlight, and she realized it was only a matter of time before she would share her body with Joshua Kirkland. Where? When? Those questions she couldn’t answer, but she did know that it would happen.

  Raising her chin, she gave him a saucy look. “Do you want to play another game?”

  “You’re giving me the chance to salvage what’s left of my masculine pride?”

  “Of course.” Rising on her toes, she kissed his cheek.

  Smiling down at her, he asked, “Where did you learn to play like that?”

  “My father taught me.”

  “He’s a pool shark?”

  Vanessa laughed. “No. He’s a physician. His father was a pool shark. I was told he supplemented his meager income very well with a game or two with so-called experts who tried to beat him.”

  “So, it’s in the genes.”

  “Guilty as charged,” she stated with a wide grin.

  Joshua went completely still. Were those three words prophetic of what a jury would conclude after her trial?

  The fear of Vanessa jailed, then going to trial, summoned a panic he had never acknowledged in his life. He’d agreed to do a job for the United States government, but for the first time since he’d been recruited into the world of military intelligence he considered not following orders—because he’d never used his body to get information from a subject.

  But, he wondered, how could he give his superiors what they wanted while protecting Vanessa from prosecution?

  The hows and whys attacked as he watched Vanessa retrieve the balls. He examined the lush curves of her slender body, her delicate profile, the shape of her intoxicating mouth, and knew there was only one way he could protect her.

  He smiled, his eyes darkening to a rich avocado green. Before Vanessa left Mexico she would become Mrs. Joshua Kirkland.

  “I have no doubt that you’re going to beat me again,” he stated quietly, leaning in toward her, “but I must also warn you that I’m not a very good loser.”

  Arching an eyebrow, Vanessa glanced up at him over her shoulder. “Are you serious?”

  “Quite.”

  Turning and facing him squarely, she tilted her chin. “And what do you intend to do if I beat you again?”

  His electric gaze bore in
to hers, burning her face, her mouth, as a mysterious smile softened his mouth. “Trounce me again, and you’ll see.”

  This time her eyes narrowed. “Are you threatening me, Joshua Kirkland?”

  “No, Angel, I’m just warning you.”

  “Then, I’ll consider myself warned.”

  Chapter 9

  Vanessa and Joshua stood at opposite sides of the elevator, staring at each other. After two games of pool, which she handily won, they played racquetball, and because she hadn’t permitted him the advantage when they played pool, he hadn’t given her any quarter during two very strenuous games. It was obvious their competitive tendencies were in full force.

  “I beat you and you beat me,” she said, staring up at the lighted numbers on a panel over the door.

  Not replying, Joshua continued his visual examination of her profile. He had warned her to test her. He had to see whether she would waver under his warning, and she hadn’t. There was no doubt that Vanessa Blanchard did not frighten easily, nor would she divert her focus from a task. It appeared she played hard, and she played to win.

  Who, he wondered, had approached her to pass along the classified information on the laser-guided bombs? Why had she sold the classified documents? Where had she hidden the two million dollars? If she did it for the money, what had she needed it for? And who was she to meet in Mexico?

  She had thought his warning a threat, not knowing that he would never do anything that would harm her or put her in more danger than she was already in. His realization that he would offer marriage to protect her indicated that his need to protect her from prosecution merely obscured deeper feelings he refused to acknowledge. There was no doubt he desired her, but he was unable to concede that he was falling in love with Vanessa Blanchard.

  “You didn’t beat me, Vanessa,” he drawled, forcing a thread of anguish into his voice. “But what you did do was humiliate me in front of at least a dozen men.”

  The elevator arrived at the twenty-second floor, and they stepped out to the carpeted hallway. She waited until Joshua opened the door to their suite before saying, “And you didn’t humiliate me when you beat me at racquetball?”

  He placed the key on a side table, then walked back to where she stood by the door. Cupping her face in his hands, he brushed his mouth over hers. “No, I didn’t.”

  “Yes—you—did,” she countered firmly between his soft, nibbling kisses.

  “No, no, no, I didn’t.” Each of his denials was punctuated with a kiss over an eye and on the tip of her nose.

  Vanessa pressed her face to his shoulder, inhaling the erotic fragrance of his cologne as it mingled with the clean scent of sweat drying on his T-shirt. “Why are we arguing about this?” Her voice was soft and muffled against his solid shoulder.

  Joshua kissed the top of her head. “I’m not arguing, Angel.” His hands searched under the hem of her T-shirt, massaging the tight flesh over her ribs.

  Her breath came in quick gasps from the radiating pleasure, and she moaned softly. “What are you doing?”

  Pulling back, he captured her tortured gaze, trapping her within the aura of his sensual masculinity. “I’m seducing you, Vanessa Blanchard. Do you have a problem with that?”

  Ensnared by her own burning desires, with his hands moving up and down her back in a titillating rhythmic motion, she was unable to respond to his query.

  “All you have to do is tell me no, and I’ll stop,” he continued.

  Vanessa leaned into him, and it was Joshua’s turn to try to catch his breath. The full crush of her breasts burned him through his own shirt.

  How could she deny what she felt, had been feeling, since she first saw Joshua Kirkland? Shaking her head, she closed her eyes. His compelling personality, the warmth of his protection, and the repressed desires fusing them together wouldn’t permit her to reject him.

  “I can’t say no.” The admission came deep from a place so unknown, so foreign, that a shudder of fear ripped through her.

  He registered the shudder and tightened his claim on her body. His hands moved around to her flat belly, feathering up to her chest. Her breasts swelled against the lace of her bra, growing heavy in his hands.

  His hot breath seared her face seconds before he took her mouth with the almost savage intensity and speed of a hawk swooping down on its prey.

  “And I don’t think I can stop,” he confessed against her moist, parted lips. His kiss burned her mouth, and the fire he ignited spread to other parts of her body.

  And he hadn’t lied. With any other woman he’d be able to stop and walk away, but not Vanessa. He’d told himself that he wanted her because he wanted to protect her. Was it because she flashed a pretty smile, or was it because he’d found her sexy, sexier than any woman he had ever met?

  Or was it because his attraction to Vanessa reminded him of how sterile his life was? It was always his mission, and only his mission. The people who worked out of the office at the Pentagon had become his extended family, and the women he “saw” occasionally offered only temporary diversions, while most of the time they bored the hell out of him.

  Vanessa was one of a few women he’d spent more than an hour with who hadn’t bored him. She challenged as well as seduced him, and instinctively he knew he could grow old with her.

  Explosive currents of desire throbbed through his groin, and he realized that he had reached the point of no return, the fragile thread of control threatening to break with each second Vanessa remained in his arms. “Do you want me to stop, Angel?”

  “No! Don’t…please don’t stop,” she pleaded shamelessly.

  Needing no further prompting, he swung her up in his arms and headed for his bedroom. Lust and desire merged, surging uncontrollably through him. His whole being was filled with a waiting, a waiting to bury his flesh deep in hers, making them one.

  Vanessa closed her eyes and tightened her grip around his neck. “You’ll have to protect me,” she whispered, her words muffled against his warm throat.

  “I’ll protect you,” he promised, “from everything.”

  Joshua felt the stirring of his own sexual arousal as he placed Vanessa in the middle of his king-sized bed. His heart rate quickened, his labored breathing deepened, and he felt the familiar closing of the outflow of blood in his manhood as it filled with a rush of dizzying desire. He hadn’t yet joined his body with Vanessa’s, yet his passion for her was fever-pitched. He resisted the urge to turn on the lamp in the darkened room, because he needed her relaxed so he could bring her maximum pleasure.

  Vanessa’s legs trembled as she tried to stop her voracious craving for Joshua from taking over her mind and body. His hands slipped up her rib cage, ever so slowly, and inched the T-shirt up her chest and over her shoulders.

  It was only seconds, but it seemed like hours before he divested her of the shirt, and instead of releasing the clasp on her bra he slid his fingers under the demi-cups and cradled her breasts gently. His thumbs grazed the nipples until they hardened and tingled for escape from the delicate scraps of lace.

  Joshua felt the areolae pebbles under his fingertips, and he reached around to unhook her bra, freeing her breasts. Lowering his head, he drew one breast into his mouth, then switched to the other, sucking and nibbling gently around each nipple. He teased them mercilessly between his teeth until she gasped loudly and arched up off the mattress.

  He moved up, his mouth searching for hers, and she returned his kiss with a savage intensity that sucked the very breath from his lungs. Her tongue plunged into his open mouth at the same time her fingers bit into his scalp.

  Liquid fire rippled through Vanessa’s veins as a rush of sexual awareness she had never experienced before threatened to consume her. She was fully aware of the hardness between Joshua’s thighs probing strongly against hers. Why was he waiting? Why wouldn’t he take her and end her torture?

  Unsnapping the waistband on her jeans, he eased them down her hips and legs before his hand searched under t
he triangle of silk concealing her femininity. Her warmth scorched his palm, then cooled as a gush of moisture bathed his fingers. He had wanted their first time together to be slow, leisurely, so they both would experience maximum pleasure, but now he knew it wasn’t possible. The magnitude with which Vanessa responded to him was stunning, and as he aroused her his own passion grew hotter, stronger.

  Her silken panties followed her jeans, falling to the carpeted floor. Seconds later his T-shirt, jeans, and briefs followed. Vanessa had asked him to protect her, and he would. There would be time for a child—their children—later.

  Placing his hands on her thighs, he eased her knees apart and settled his body within the cradle of her femininity. She gasped loudly again, this time at the probing assault on her celibate flesh.

  Joshua withdrew immediately, cupping her face in his hands. “I’ll go slow,” he crooned against her parted lips. “I’ll try not to hurt you.”

  Feeling the tension leaving her limbs, he tasted her mouth, then the tip of her nose, chin, and throat, lingering at the runaway pulse.

  His mouth continued its downward course, branding Vanessa his possession as she moaned and writhed in an ancient rhythm that needed no prompting or tutoring.

  She felt the scorching heat from his mouth at the apex of her thighs, his tongue worshipping the delicate folds hiding her femininity.

  “Josh—” His name died on her lips when a spasm of pleasure coiled at the base of her spine, then exploded.

  He moved fluidly up from between her thighs, raising and supporting her hips with both hands as he thrust into her pulsing flesh with the force of a tornado racing across a swath of land, sweeping up everything in its path.

  The impact of their lovemaking matched and surpassed the storm lashing the city with its fury as they climbed to heights of ecstasy in an act that had become not lovemaking, but raw, unadulterated possession.

  Vanessa’s sighs of repletion hadn’t faded completely when Joshua reversed their positions and held her tightly to his damp chest. She felt his thundering heartbeat under her breasts as he reached over and turned on the lamp on the bedside table.