by Lora Leigh
Her lips parted in shock, and he took full advantage of it. He tasted her. Lips and tongue possessed her kiss, and he let his senses grow drunk on her.
Because somehow, someway, she’d shared not just her dreams with him, but those incredibly erotic fantasies that filled his head as well.
And now, he wanted a taste of all that passion, that feminine hunger and need he hadn’t nearly had enough of before her abduction.
Then they could discuss the rest.
chapter two
It was a kiss ripped from her darkest dreams, her most sensual fantasies. A melding of lips and tongues and a heated pleasure she couldn’t deny herself.
Hunger poured from Riordan, rocked her to her core, and spurred her own.
It didn’t feel like a stranger kissing her. This wasn’t a stranger, it was a lover she’d known before, if only in her dreams. Shuddering, trembling, she met the kiss, anxiety and emotions surging inside her that she had no idea how to identify yet.
Leaning closer he pressed her against the wall, his hard chest against her breasts, sensitizing the already tender nipples as his mouth ravaged hers. Stole her breath, her will to fight, and pulled her into a vortex of such sensual pleasure, she didn’t have the strength to pull away from him. She whimpered against the demanding thrust of his tongue, moaned as his knee pushed between her legs, his thigh angling against her sex and creating a friction so delicious she felt weakened by it.
This was what she dreamt of. His lips grinding against her, thrusting between her lips, tasting him as he tasted her and growing drunk on the pleasure.
She was on her tiptoes, fighting to get closer, to draw him to her. Her hands gripped his shoulders, feeling the muscles beneath bunch and tighten as he lifted her closer, allowing her to ride his thigh with erotic need as her clit swelled and throbbed with increasing sensitivity.
What was he doing to her? How was he doing it? She couldn’t remember a time, except in those erotic dreams of him, that her senses had come alive like this. That so much pleasure had flooded her body, rushed through her mind. As though every cell was poised to explode with exquisite agony.
The shock of his lips pulling back, releasing her, had an instant denial rocking her.
“No,” the soft cry tore from her as her hands tightened on his shoulders, her fingers digging into his muscles through the material. “Not yet.”
Powerful fingers gripped her hair, holding her head back, forcing her to open her eyes, to stare up at him.
“I’m going to end up fucking you against the wall in my grandpops’ home if we’re not damn careful here.” Rather than releasing her, his head lowered, his lips going to her neck in a heated caress before his teeth raked the sensitive skin with erotic intent.
Her lashes drifted closed, pleasure swirling through her as each touch of his lips against her neck, each rake of his teeth pulled a moan from her that she was helpless against. Each sensation left her intoxicated on each bit of pleasure and aching for more.
Just as she was ready to beg, he stilled before pulling himself from her with a muttered curse.
Forcing her eyes open, she watched as he kept his back to her and pushed his fingers through his overly long hair before gripping the back of his neck.
“You’re as fucking dangerous to my self-control as you were before your father fired me,” he muttered, the anger in his tone impossible to miss.
Her father had fired him?
She fought to push the pleasure, the hunger and need aside at that comment.
When had her father fired him? Hell, when had her father hired him?
It had to have been in the year she’d forgotten. Months of memories that tormented her in her dreams and her nightmares, and brought her awake screaming or sobbing in loss.
“I was your bodyguard.” He turned on her, the words shocking her. “I headed a four-man team as well as your cousins Elizaveta and Grisha, until three days before your abduction when your father sent me to England.”
She felt something—knowledge, aching loss—shift inside her.
She didn’t doubt him. Her father had always been prone to sending away any bodyguard she seemed to be getting close to.
“You said he fired you?” she whispered.
Mocking censure filled his expression. “I might have loosened a few of his teeth before I went out with the extraction team.” His lip curled in a sneer. “I take that back, I know I loosened those bitches.” Pure furious pleasure filled his gaze at the words.
“You argued before you went out after me?” She could only shake her head in confusion. “Why?”
She didn’t know. But then, she hadn’t asked her father why he’d left after she’d realized who he was. She hadn’t asked anyone, she’d simply begun searching her father’s employee database first.
“Why?” he murmured as he watched her closely, those intense blue eyes focused completely on her. “You don’t know?”
“I told you I didn’t. Didn’t you hear me earlier or were you too focused on pushing me against the wall for a quick little groping session first?” Shooting him a disgusted look, she pushed her hands into the pockets of her jacket and stepped away from the wall. “Didn’t you hear me?”
Oh, he’d heard her.
Watching her, Riordan could feel that little internal alarm going off, warning him that, number one, she wasn’t lying. And number two, this was possibly a hell of a lot more serious than she was telling him.
“What makes you think someone’s trying to kill you?” He watched her closely, tracking her as she paced to the door and stared out at the valley below.
Her shoulders lifted defensively for a second before a heavy sigh left her lips. “I’ve been staying at the estate in Colorado since I left the hospital.” She turned back to him, rubbing at her arms as she faced him, making him ache to hold her. “Three months later the brakes went out on my car while I was on the more mountainous roads into Aspen; then someone broke into my hotel room when I should have been asleep, but I was staying in Elizaveta’s room, which I rarely do. And I was nearly run over crossing the street in Aspen last month.” For a moment, uncertainty and confusion flashed across her expression. “Poppa thinks they are random events.”
Ivan suddenly believed in random events? Since when, by God?
“If you’ve lost your memory of the year before your abduction, then why are you here?” Why come to him after throwing him out of her life as she had just before her abduction?
“I told you.” That fear in her face was killing him. “I have nightmares…” Her voice lowered to a mere whisper on that final word, then with a deep breath, became firmer. “In those dreams, you’re always there. You keep me safe. You tell me you’ll always keep me safe.” She swallowed, hesitated. “Were we lovers?”
His jaw tightened as he held back every curse he needed to rain down on Ivan.
“We were,” he growled. “For a while.”
“For a while,” she repeated softly. “What happened?”
What had happened? He suspected Ivan had happened, but he’d never known for certain.
“I have no idea,” he told her, keeping his voice cool, unconcerned. “I was due to leave for England for several weeks for an extraction your father needed me on. You decided to break off the relationship.”
There wasn’t a glimmer of knowledge, just that damn confusion that filled her gray-blue eyes.
“Did Poppa know we were involved?” she asked, her hands pushing into the pockets of her jacket once again.
That was one of Amara’s “things” when dealing with a personal situation she was having trouble with. If she had pockets, she made use of them.
“Not that I’m aware of it,” he assured her mockingly. “That was one of the things we argued over. You didn’t want him to know.”
Yeah, wouldn’t do for the little Irish bastard she was fucking to mess up his daughter’s pristine reputation, now would it?
She frowned at that, as though she wasn�
��t certain it was the truth. But then, she hadn’t exactly put much faith in him when they’d been together, had she?
“I’m sorry for that,” she stated, the weariness in her voice tugging at him, making him want to take it back, to reassure her, to take the fear and the regret from her expression. “When I asked Poppa if I had a lover, he seemed so shocked, that I was certain I had to be wrong. I didn’t know I could be so deceptive.”
And it was obvious the knowledge wasn’t sitting well with her.
“Your father tends to fire men who become interested in you,” he growled. “You didn’t seem to believe I didn’t give a damn if he fired me. I didn’t work for him for the money to begin with.”
The money was okay, but he had his own money. Money left to him from an inheritance his grandmother Erin had set aside for her grandchildren on her death as well as money his father—as much as Riordan hated calling him that—deposited monthly into an account that Riordan never touched. The money he made in contract work for his brother, Noah Blake, was building nicely as well. Soon, it might actually exceed the other accounts.
He’d never hurt for money, he just preferred to make his own way, to do what he did best—until the last six months. Hell, he’d just regained his full strength two months earlier after taking three bullets and spending two months recuperating from surgery he nearly hadn’t come back from.
“Poppa can be … protective,” she sighed, and he heard her complete weariness in it. “He’s very difficult, but I’m sure you know that.”
“Beside the point.” He shook his head, realizing they were getting off track. “Did you mention your search for me to him?”
If he found out Ivan had stood in her way …
“I didn’t tell anyone.” She shook her head quickly. “Once I found you in the employee database I just left and came looking for you.” She turned back to the door. “Poppa’s men were following me though. Elizaveta and Grisha nearly caught me last night. I’ve driven straight through from Poppa’s estate, hoping I could keep them from knowing where I was going until I could speak to you.” She bit her lip for a moment. “Hoping I could convince you to protect me.”
“Your father’s men are experienced. The best in the business,” he reminded her. “I won’t go back to being your dirty little secret, Amara.”
Evidently, that little piece of information didn’t sit well with her.
“I don’t know who to trust anymore.” Her voice seemed to hitch as though she were holding back a cry. “I don’t know which way to turn. If it’s money…”
“I might be an Irish bastard, but trust me sweetheart, I’m too damn Irish to hide who and what I am. And if I came back, I’d be returning to your bed as well. And you can keep your goddamn money,” he snarled, restraining the need to find Ivan and knock the hell out of him. Again. “The last thing I’d take from a Resnova now, is their damn money.”
She flinched, her shoulders tensing at the sound of his voice and the anger that filled it.
She hadn’t seen this anger in her dreams. He’d been protective, hard sometimes, definitely dominant sexually, but he hadn’t been angry.
“So, all you want is a ready fuck?” she snapped back, hating the habit she had of becoming defensive.
“Your mouth is going to get you fucked,” he bit out, the lust that filled his gaze intensifying as he pointed his finger toward her with such arrogance it made her teeth clench. “Being in your bed was damn satisfying, Amara. Watch it that you don’t end up in my bed before you leave here.”
And she knew if he touched her again, kissed her again, she’d not deny him. He’d already proven that.
“So, to convince you to protect me, I have to let you into my bed?” She definitely wanted clarification here.
The smile that curled his lip had her heart racing, her sex dripping. She was going to have to change her damn panties at this rate.
“No, you don’t have to let me do a damn thing but protect you,” he murmured. “You just have to be able to say no. Think you can do that?”
The challenge was one that had her eyes narrowing, her fists clenching in her pockets.
“Watch it Riordan, you might lose that cold little heart of yours. What then?” she asked instead.
The smile deepened. “Or you might lose yours. Trust me, Amara. You never knew the man I really was when we were together before, but by God you will now. So be very damn sure you want me back in that bed of yours. Because baby, I’ll make sure you don’t have the energy to throw me out of it again.”
She rolled her eyes, knowing it wasn’t exactly the smartest way to meet his challenge.
“Keep telling yourself that.” She shrugged. “As long as you come back. As long as you help me find out who still wants me dead sometime before they actually kill me.”
Oh, he’d figure that one out. He’d do that whether he was in her bed or not. He might be damn pissed with her, she might have taken a chunk of his pride last year, but he’d never let anyone hurt her. Not as long as he had enough breath in his body to stop it.
Nodding, he pulled his cell phone from the holder on his belt and keyed in a message to his brother. Short. A numeric code that Noah would know was serious. He and another agent he worked with would be there before the hour was out.
“I’m sending you back to your father. You’ll have a protection detail shadowing you. Let Elizaveta and Grisha find you in New Mexico.” Stalking to the bookcase on the other side of the room, he pulled his electronic pad free before motioning her to the couch.
Pulling up a map, he pushed the pad into her hands.
“Here.” He pointed to the town on the map. “Get a room, stay till you’re found by them.” The resort was known for its secure premises and for its focus on keeping high-profile guests protected at all times. “You won’t see them, but there will be a team protecting you. Let Elizaveta and Grisha take you back to the estate. I still have an agent there I trust to keep you safe until I arrive.”
She stared at the map before lifting her eyes to meet his. “And after you arrive?”
After he arrived? Well, then things would get damn interesting.
“The agent will let you know when I’m close.” Pulling up the notepad, he typed in a code. “Memorize those numbers. When he makes contact with you, he’ll give you that code before he tells you what I have planned. Agreed?”
“Why can’t you go with me?” The fear in her voice nearly had him changing his mind.
God, he wanted to go with her. He wanted to be with her every second to ensure no danger, whether by accident or design, touched her.
“Because if someone is trying to kill you, they’ll be more on guard if they know you’ve contacted me first,” he warned her. “I’m not returning as your bodyguard. I’m coming back to claim my lover. An enemy will expect me to be distracted. They won’t expect what I’ll have planned.”
She nodded, albeit it slowly.
“You’ll make sure I’m protected until you’re there?” She was trying to hide it, but he could hear the fear and uncertainty.
“I swear it. You have to trust me this time, Amara, or you’ll put both of us in danger. No matter what I do, what I tell you to do, you have to trust me.” Anything less could see them both dead. And Riordan decided months before that dead wasn’t what he wanted.
“Very well,” she murmured. “I trust you.”
That trust was in her gaze, something that hadn’t been there before the abduction. Before she lost that year of her life.
“Get ready to go.” Moving abruptly, he paced to the window and glanced down the winding road that led to the house. “Company will be here soon. You’ll meet the men that I’ll send to follow you, then you’ll leave. Agreed?”
“Agreed.” She watched him, the bleak shadows in her eyes reminding him that the trust, the faith she was putting in him, had nothing to do with their past, but with whatever dreams she’d had of him in the past months.
“Get ready then. I
can see their dust.” His brother was racing to him, no doubt his father, and his uncle and other “help” as well. There was more than one vehicle barreling its way there. He turned back to her, keeping his gaze hard, his voice firm. “Whatever I tell you to do, do it when you’re told. Don’t hesitate. Not even for a second.”
“I’m not a moron, I understood the first time.” She rose quickly to her feet and squared her shoulders in determination. “I said I would do it.”
Because she wanted to live.
Because now she trusted him when she hadn’t before. Son of a bitch, it was enough to make him want to drag her to his bed then and there.
Because he knew Amara. While she might do as she was told this time, the next time could very well be another matter.
Standing at the window, Riordan watched as Amara’s rented car sped back down the road escorted by the four men Noah had brought with him, two leading, two following.
It was a damn good thing Ivan Resnova was a person of some importance to the Elite Ops that his brother directed there in Alpine. The highly covert, highly classified investigative and strike team had worked with Ivan before and they’d been part of the force that extracted Amara out of that damned hole she’d been thrown into.
Now, they’d protect her until he could make certain everything was in place.
“You should have gone with her. We could have still run the op without suspicion,” his brother commented behind him. “You didn’t have to be so damned stubborn, Riordan.”
Riordan. He’d been Rory until the year Nathan returned as Noah, the year Riordan had nearly died trying to protect Sabella, Noah’s wife. When he’d come out of the hospital, the nickname had dropped and he’d become Riordan.
“Her father and whoever’s behind this would be forewarned.” He turned back to Noah slowly. “There’s been three attempts on her since she returned to Colorado after leaving the hospital and her father’s claiming coincidence. Someone close to him is obviously filling his head with fairy tales. Or he’s making them up himself.”
Ivan Resnova believed in Santa a hell of a lot more than he believed in coincidence.