Body Contact

by Rebecca York

She felt a tremor go through her and knew he had felt it too. His hands slid across her back, then up and down her arms, stroking and soothing. Her head drifted to his shoulder, and they stood there on the path. She hoped they looked like lovers stopping to dally for a while, before getting to the main event.

  “You’re doing great,” he murmured in her ear.

  “No,” she answered, remembering to keep the comment to a whisper. Before she could stop herself, she added, “I didn’t know how claustrophobic this place would be.”

  He didn’t say, “I told you so.” He simply stroked her as he began to whisper again, “This is what we’re going to do.”

  Maddy listened to Jack’s instructions, thinking once more that he was a brilliant strategist when it came to undercover work.

  The thought made her giggle.

  “Um?”

  “Nerves,” she mouthed.

  “Yeah.”

  9

  WHEN THEY’D STEPPED into the villa, Jack loosened the formal bow tie that now felt like a noose around his neck. Crossing to the bar, he poured them each a drink. Bourbon for himself. White wine for Maddy. He didn’t know about her, but after the hours they’d just spent at Reynard’s mansion, he needed something to wash away the taste of the man.

  Still he kept his voice light as he clinked his glass against Maddy’s. “Well, here’s to a memorable evening, now that we’re finally alone.”

  He smiled as she made her eyes round, following the scenario he’d outlined in hushed tones on the path while he’d been pretending his mind was on other things.

  Her voice was all innocence as she said, “I thought we couldn’t do anything here. Not with all the cameras and the microphones. I mean how do we know they’re really gone?”

  After downing another swallow of bourbon, he answered, “I thought of a way around it. We can make love in the dark—very, very quietly.”

  As he spoke, he reached to stroke his finger suggestively down the front of her dress, skimming the sides of her breasts as he traced the line of the deep V that plunged toward her navel.

  He was pleased to hear her words slur as she said, “Oh Jack, you’re so clever.”

  “Um,” he answered, hoping anybody who was listening wasn’t expecting brilliant dialogue.

  It was easy for him to slide his finger farther under the fabric, for that one invading digit to skim over the tender flesh of her breast, then tease the very edges of her nipple.

  “Oh!” Her fingers clamped on his arm, and he didn’t know if she were trying to still his hand or simply reacting helplessly to the intimate touch.

  All he knew about himself was that he couldn’t stop. Not yet.

  Lord, it was getting worse. At least for him. All he had to do was touch her with one finger and his whole body was on fire. He bent his head, nibbling along the tender line of her jaw, then finding the column of her throat. He loved the soft flesh there. There and everywhere else on her body.

  “Jack, don’t,” she murmured. “Don’t make me hot until we’re ready for bed.”

  He blinked, reminding himself that this was supposed to be for show. Swiftly he lifted his head and pulled his hand away, as if he’d come into contact with a hot stove.

  For several seconds, he stood there, breathing hard, trying to remember what he’d intended to say. Then he cleared his throat as he recalled his lines. “But I like a little visual stimulation. So here’s the deal. Go in the bathroom and put on one of your sexy gowns. I’ll be in the bedroom waiting for you.”

  She took a quick sip of her wine, then set the glass on the bar. After she’d hurried into the other room, he followed more slowly, as though he were savoring the anticipation. But he was in time to see her take an ecru gown out of the drawer. It was the one he’d hoped she’d wear. The one with the fitted bodice edged with lace. The one he knew would cup her breasts so beautifully.

  She followed directions, disappearing into the bathroom, and he pulled back the spread, then piled two pillows along the headboard.

  While she was gone, he kicked off his shoes, then unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it over the back of the desk chair.

  Like a man anticipating an evening of hot sex, he turned off all the lights but the one on the nearest bedside table, then lay down on the bed and stacked his hands behind his head.

  When he heard the bathroom door click, his whole body went instantly hard with anticipation. Making love to her now might be out of the question, but he hadn’t been kidding about craving the visual stimulation. As Maddy stepped into the bedroom, backlit by the light streaming in back of her, his breath caught.

  He’d anticipated how beautiful, how sexy she’d look. But his imagination never seemed to do her justice.

  And it didn’t help that she looked hot and hungry—as hot and hungry as he felt.

  “Come here, baby.”

  She took a shaky step toward him, then another. Her eyes as intense on him as his were on her.

  She stopped beside the bed, and he swung his legs over the edge, planting them on the floor as he drew her between his knees. Her body swayed in his arms, swayed closer, so that her scent enveloped him and her torso filled his vision. He could see her breasts through the translucent fabric of the gown. Indecently translucent, he thought, with the few brain cells that were still functioning. The rounded shape and the nipples were showcased rather than hidden.

  He should leave. Right now before he forgot the evening’s mission. But he couldn’t do it yet, not when she looked so sweetly tempting.

  Knowing he was playing with fire, he bent to rub his face against her breasts, turning his head this way and that, his lips grazing one taut nipple and then the other.

  A breathy exclamation escaped her lips as he closed his mouth around her, suckling through the silky fabric.

  Her hands came up to cradle his head, her fingers restless as they tunneled through his thick hair.

  He couldn’t stop his hands from sliding up and down her flanks, the silky fabric teasing his fingertips. She was naked under the gown. He’d seen that immediately, seen the tempting blond shadow at the top of her legs.

  Now he slipped his hands under the hem, and slid them upward, his fingers playing over her hips, over the rounded swell of her bottom.

  She made a soft, pleading sound that almost drove the last shreds of coherence from his mind. He wanted her. Now. With a driving need he could barely control. And when her fingers dug into his shoulders, the only thought in his head was that if he wrapped his arms around her and fell back onto the bed, she’d tumble right on top of him.

  The anticipation of her body coming down on him sent a spasm of heat through him. And he knew he was on the edge of losing control. He had to quit now or forget about the mission he’d set for himself tonight.

  “We’d better turn out the lights,” he said, hearing the raspy quality of his own voice as he reached for the lamp. When he snapped the switch, the light lowered considerably. But there was still enough illumination from the bathroom to see Maddy’s shadowy form. She hadn’t moved from the spot where she’d been standing.

  He rose and caught her in his arms, pulling her tightly against him, absorbing the familiar feel of her slender curves. Then he turned and laid her gently on the bed. As she lay there gazing up at him, he bent to give her a quick, sharp kiss.

  Her arms raised and slid around his neck as though she could hold him there. But they both had work to do, so he gently loosened her grip, then stood up, backing away because he knew that if he didn’t put distance between them, he would reach for her again.

  “Hold that thought,” he growled. Striding across the room, he turned off the bathroom light. The room was dark now. As dark as it needed to be.

  In the blackness, he crossed to the bureau and got out some dark slacks and a dark knit shirt—expensive but casual sports clothes that would double as stealthwear. Mindful that the room might well be wired for sound, he quietly changed. Instead of the white running shoes and socks
he’d worn during the day, he opted for black.

  From the bed, Maddy made a low sexy sound like a woman who was being stroked and petted. It was what he’d asked her to do—to make anybody listening believe that the two of them were lying there together—getting into something hot and heavy.

  Unfortunately, it sounded so real that he felt his chest constrict. He stood for a moment with his hands squeezed into fists. Then he forced himself to turn away and move to the sliding glass door.

  As he pulled the drapes aside, Maddy moaned, almost sending him striding back to the bed.

  If he didn’t know the truth, he’d think she was a woman having a very rewarding time with her lover. And he wanted to be that lover. For a moment he stood with his cock painfully swollen and his teeth clenched. Then he very deliberately unlocked the door and stepped onto the patio, hoping that Reynard hadn’t turned his leopard loose to patrol the grounds.

  He was thinking that if he were caught now, he’d have no way to explain what he was doing. He couldn’t say he was cooling off with a nighttime stroll. Because as far as the listeners were concerned, he was still back there with Maddy.

  Of course, there was one other explanation. Maddy could be back there having a good time by herself. Would she be willing to follow that script? Her guy had said he was going for a walk, and she’d taken advantage of his absence to engage in a little self-pleasuring.

  The idea made him squeeze his eyes shut for a moment. He didn’t like someone thinking that he couldn’t take care of all Maddy’s sexual needs. But if he had to play out that script to save her life, he’d do it, and hope she’d take her cue from him.

  He pulled his mind away from that scenario, then sucked in several deep breaths and let them out slowly, willing his blood to cool down.

  It didn’t help that the atmosphere outside was warm and muggy, much less comfortable than the bedroom where he’d just left Maddy.

  Again, his thoughts went back to her. For long moments, he couldn’t stop himself from picturing her in that sexy gown, lying on the bed, her head thrown back, a contented purring sound rising in her throat.

  He hoped the sound effects were going to drive the damn guards who were listening crazy.

  He willed away the image, then used one of his old mental exercises to center himself. When he felt more in control, he opened his eyes and probed the darkness, thankful that there was enough moonlight to illuminate the grounds around the villa, because using a light was out of the question.

  An insect buzzed around his head, and he swatted it away. But at least he wasn’t going to come back with too many bites. He’d learned from his research that Orchid Island had a spraying program that kept the bug population in check.

  He stayed where he was on the patio for several minutes, listening to the sounds of the night. The rustlings in the underbrush. The occasional call of an animal.

  He hadn’t thought he was a praying man. But he’d asked for divine help more than once since this assignment had begun. He said a silent prayer now. For Maddy and Dawn, because if he screwed this up, they were both in deep trouble.

  With that thought in mind, he stepped into the foliage. Soon well-tended greenery gave way to denser jungle as he moved in the direction that he and Maddy had taken that afternoon, staying off the path to avoid patrols.

  He wished there were some way to know the guards’ schedule. But that detail hadn’t been available. So all he could do was keep out of sight and hope for the best. More than once he got slapped in the face by fronds and branches. And several times he stepped onto uneven ground and almost lost his footing.

  When he came to a place where a tangle of vines blocked his path, he swore under his breath, wishing he had a knife. But bringing a weapon of any kind to the island had been out of the question. So he moved carefully around the obstacle, then took a sighting on the stars to get his bearing.

  He had just emerged from a tangle of underbrush and corrected his course again when he saw it—a dark shape looming against the skyline.

  With silent thanks, he glided forward, then went stock-still when he heard footsteps hitting a solid surface.

  Two uniformed men moved rapidly by along the path—only a few yards from where he stood frozen beside a tree trunk.

  So how long did he have before the next patrol—ten minutes? Twenty?

  He counted slowly to one hundred, then took a deep breath and stepped from the screen of foliage. He was across the path in three seconds—and heading for the tower.

  A light was shining in the high window that he’d seen earlier. The courtyard was also illuminated.

  When he got close enough to make out details, he saw that the entrance to the courtyard was guarded as it had been that afternoon. Earlier there had been two men on duty—both out of sight initially. Tonight there was only one, right at the entrance.

  Was that standard operating procedure? Did Reynard change the drill at night, or were there two men on duty—one out here and one somewhere inside the grounds?

  He stared at the large stones that made up the wall. They were put together in rough fashion—rough enough to find convenient hand and footholds. Which meant that he might be able to gain the inner courtyard without going through the front entrance.

  Dangerous, he thought. But suppose it was the only way to get into the tower?

  He was about to circle the wall and look for a place to climb over when a new development stopped him cold. A small figure stepped out of the darkness.

  The sentry straightened, then brought his weapon to firing position.

  “Miguel, don’t shoot. It’s me, Juanita,” a woman’s voice called out. “I came to bring food.”

  The man lowered his machine gun, then eased it back onto his shoulder. “For me? Or for her?”

  “Both.”

  For me or for her? So there was a woman being held here. Dawn? Or somebody else?

  “You’re late. I thought nobody was coming.”

  “I had other work to do.”

  Miguel moved forward and lifted a covered basket out of the woman’s hands. “You’re not supposed to be bringing me anything,” he said gruffly.

  “I like you, Miguel.”

  “We could both get in trouble if the captain finds out that I’m eating on duty.”

  “Who’s going to turn us in? The patrol won’t be back for twenty minutes.”

  He laughed. “Right.”

  Twenty minutes. Well, that was another piece of prime information.

  From the shadows of the trees, Jack watched Miguel inspect the contents of the basket. Reaching inside, he took out a piece of chicken and began to gnaw on it.

  “Can I go up? Do you want to escort me?”

  “I should go with you,” he said around a mouth full of food. After several seconds’ hesitation, he added, “But the key’s in the usual place. Go on.”

  The usual place. So the key to the cell or cells was within easy reach. Good.

  When Jack saw the woman quickly cross the lighted courtyard and enter a door, he made a rapid circuit of the wall, looking for a good place to climb over.

  When he was halfway around the circle, a grating sound drifted to him from above.

  The noise came again. From the cell near the top of the tower?

  He shouldn’t be able to hear anything. He was down on the ground. And the cell was far above his head. Yet he suddenly remembered a time when he’d experienced exactly the same phenomenon. He’d been on vacation, visiting Tikal, a ruined Mayan city in Guatemala, that had been completely buried for hundreds of years in the jungle. The archeological team that had excavated some of the buildings had only uncovered the front portion of many temples—leaving huge dirt-and plant-covered hills in the back. He’d climbed one such hill, pulling himself up using roots and vines, but his female companion had been afraid to risk it. So she’d remained on the ground—and when he’d moved around to the front of the two-hundred-foot-high temple, they’d been able to talk to each other easi
ly, without shouting.

  Something similar must be happening now, he thought as he strained his ears.

  “Juanita!” a female voice exclaimed. “Thank God you’re back.”

  “I can’t stay long.”

  “Please. I’m so scared.” The last part came out as a sob.

  “I know. But the woman you told me about is here.”

  “Maddy! Thank God.”

  “I told her where you are. You must wait.”

  “I…I think I’ll go crazy if I have to stay here any longer. I was so stupid. So stupid to run away.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “Yes, it was!”

  There were whispered words of comfort. Then the woman said, “I must go.”

  “Please. Don’t leave me.”

  “The guard will be suspicious. I gave him part of your dinner, but he gets restless.”

  “Okay. Yes. Thank you so much. My father will be very grateful.”

  Jack stood there in frozen silence. That had to be Dawn up there—and the woman who had given Maddy the note this afternoon. Juanita.

  Quietly he faded back into the jungle foliage. He’d just picked up some important information. But he wasn’t sure how to interpret what he’d learned.

  He’d easily overheard a strategic conversation. So was that just a lucky break for him, because he’d been in just the right spot? Or had someone arranged for him to hear Juanita talking to Dawn?

  There were just too many damn factors.

  Like…maybe the guard had heard the women talking, too. And he was going to make a report.

  He wanted desperately to discuss what he’d just found out with Maddy. Maybe she knew something more about Juanita. Was the woman a spy? Was she telling Dawn the truth? Or was she setting a trap?

  He’d like Maddy’s insights. But he knew he wasn’t going to exchange information with her any time soon. Not when that maintenance man—Isley—had probably been back at the villa setting up more spy equipment.

  Well, he might as well stick around for a while and see if there was anything else to find out. Again, Jack moved around the building, until he was back where he’d started—at the guard post. The man had finished his chicken. After carefully wiping his fingers on a piece of cloth, he wrapped up the bones.