by Nina Croft
He considered her for a moment out of narrowed eyes, then toed off his boots and shed his jeans in one efficient move. He was good at this—had he had a lot of practice? But he was naked and only inches away and gloriously aroused and the thoughts in her head were dissolving to nothingness replaced by a mindless mixture of want and need.
“Clothes,” he reminded her.
She shook her head, then somehow managed to tear her gaze from his erection and shrugged out of her torn shirt.
“And the rest.”
She unfastened her pants, pushed them down with her underwear and quickly, she was as naked as he was.
“Finally,” he murmured.
Reaching out, he trailed a finger over her nipples sending darts of pleasure to her sex, a slow throbbing starting up between her legs. He lowered his head, kissed one taut peak and then straightened far too soon. He rested his hands on her shoulders and turned her gently, then lowered his head again and this time kissed the soft place where her neck met her shoulder. Shivers ran through her. He caressed down the length of her back, and over the swell of her ass. Her skin was so sensitive. She could feel the heat and wetness between her legs. He was driving her crazy and doing it so slowly.
Going down on his knees behind her, he kissed and licked his way down her spine. Her legs trembled, and she rested her hands against the cool plaster of the wall for balance as she concentrated on the feel of his mouth on her skin. He reached her ass and bit down, and her forehead fell to the wall. His hands were on her thighs, parting her legs, his mouth on her inner thigh as all the sensations built and coalesced. Her muscles were all locked tight now, waiting for his touch. Finally, his long fingers slipped between the folds of her sex.
“Christ, you are so wet.”
He pushed inside her, causing everything to tingle, then out, sliding over her, finding her clit with sure fingers. Teasing her, with circles around and around until her hips were pushing back against him and small moans were slipping from her throat. Finally, he touched her where she needed him most and she went still. He massaged the little nub, softly, then harder, building pleasure, then pinching between his fingers and she shattered into a thousand parts.
She was hardly aware of him sliding up her body, pushing inside her with the ripples of her orgasm still echoing through her. Filling her, his hands came around her to cup her breasts, enfolding her in his embrace until they really did feel like one. Then they were moving together, her mind empty of everything but the ebb and flow of their bodies. One hand slid down to cup her sex and his fingers found the sensitive nub. He touched her, and she came again so sweetly and gently that her whole body sang. She was aware of his final thrust, then his face was buried in her shoulder as he pumped inside her.
They stayed still for a long time while her heartbeat slowed, and the last tremors racked her body.
She felt him take a deep breath and release his hold on her, and a sense of loss filled her. She didn’t want to delve into the implications. She couldn’t lose what was never hers. His hands were on the wall on either side of her, caging her in, and he pushed himself away. She stayed where she was as he walked to the bathroom, hearing the water as he turned on the taps to the big bath. She was almost scared to move, afraid she might break.
What was happening to her?
He came back, took her hand and tugged her around to face him. He appeared as dazed as she felt. “That was…amazing,” he said.
She managed a nod. She didn’t want to say anything, didn’t want to be responsible for whatever words might fall out of her mouth if she opened it now, so she kept her lips clamped tight.
He picked her up and carried her into the bathroom, then lowered her into the warm water. The bath was easily big enough for two and he climbed in across from her, his legs mingling with hers in the water. He rested back and closed his eyes, so she did the same and eventually the warmth soothed her, and her thoughts calmed. This wasn’t a disaster. Maybe sex always felt like this in his century.
She opened her eyes, sat upright, and found him watching her with a lazy half smile on his face. “What?” she asked.
“Regardless of whatever is going on between us, whatever you’re keeping from me, that was the most intense thing I have ever experienced.”
She bit her lip, forced herself to ask the question. “It’s not normally like that for you?”
“Shit, no. Sex was always good, but it was just a fun way to relieve tension. This was so much more.” So there went that theory. “Are you telling me it’s always that intense for you?”
For a moment, she thought about lying, but right now she couldn’t, and she didn’t know why. Everything was going wrong. She shook her head. “No.”
“Good.”
There was nothing good about it, but he looked happy and relaxed, and she couldn’t bring herself to spoil things and wipe the smile from his face. Instead, she changed the subject.
“I’ve never had a bath with anyone before,” she said.
“Me, neither.” He flicked water into her face and she blinked. “Let’s hope it’s the first of many firsts.”
She closed her eyes again because she didn’t want him to see the guilt in her eyes. What the hell was she doing? She should be staying objective. But there were no anomalies here, nothing to set off her alarm. She didn’t have to make a choice. Not yet, at least. She suspected the truth was back where it all started. In Uganda, with this mysterious secret. But she only had one more day left. There was no time to go and investigate. She could return, though. Or maybe she’d get them to send someone else back to Uganda. She wouldn’t have to make the decision. Because, really, she was compromised. But how was she supposed to explain why?
Maybe it wouldn’t come to that.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
At the endearment, she felt a pricking in her eyes. She blinked, then looked at him and forced a smile. She couldn’t save him. He wasn’t hers to save. And if he knew the truth, he’d hate her for the lies.
“Nothing,” she said. “Let’s go to bed.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Quinn woke with the dawn light filtering through the curtains. Mel was curled into his body, her back flush against his chest and stomach, his arms wrapped around her, his hard cock pressed against the cleft in her ass. For a second, he pushed up against her. They’d made love, and slept, and made love again, all through the long night.
He knew the night had been time out and today it was time to get back to real life.
He’d been doing a very good job of ignoring the fact that as much as he liked being with Mel, he didn’t trust her one little bit.
She was coming to care for him, he could see that. He could also see that it terrified the life out of her. Occasionally, that fear flashed in her eyes, before she got control and banished her real emotions. She was good at that.
She was an FBI agent. He’d been holding onto that fact, as though it meant that she was one of the good guys. But maybe it didn’t mean anything. Perhaps she’d been telling the truth about rogue agents in the FBI? Maybe she was even one of them. Maybe she’d been bought and paid for by the Conclave and was now still working for one of the rogue splinter groups. Though at her level, she probably wouldn’t even know who she was working for. The Conclave had survived for centuries hiding behind layers of secrecy.
And he didn’t know what motivated her, though he suspected it wasn’t money. She just didn’t seem the mercenary type. He also suspected, deep down, that she was even more screwed up than he was. Sometimes her reactions were just a little off, like she didn’t fit in. So maybe her motives were some sort of revenge. He knew Stefan was looking into her past. Would he come up with anything?
All he could hope was that when it came down to making a choice, she would choose him.
Fear churned in his gut. What if he lost her? How the hell had he let himself get this close to anyone, when he’d sworn, after losing Shanna, that he would never be vulnerable aga
in?
She shifted in his arms. She was awake. Through the house, he could hear people moving around, and he reached out and brushed their minds, finding Janelle. “Hey, lover boy. Moving out in one hour.”
For a moment, he wondered how she’d picked up the nickname, who had told her, then he realized she’d probably plucked it right out of his head.
He pushed himself up and ran a hand through his hair, found Mel watching him, her eyes wary.
“We’re leaving in an hour,” he said, to stop himself saying something completely different. Something to wipe that wary expression from her eyes. He didn’t know what—his brain hadn’t got that far. But he did know that right now, it would be a bad idea.
She nodded and sat up, pulling the sheet with her. “We never talked last night.”
“No.” They’d been far too busy with better things. He wished they could do the same now. But real life had to be faced.
“What did you think of them?” she asked. “Your mother and the others?”
“I think, with the exception of Janelle, that Martin was right. They wouldn’t survive out in the real world and they certainly wouldn’t have survived in the colonel’s world. There’s something…almost otherworldly about them. But they’re also so open. Their minds—they keep nothing back. It’s all there for you to see.”
“Well, for you to see. Not for me. But maybe that’s because they have nothing to hide from you. They have their own world. But if everyone could read minds, it might be a different matter.” She tucked the sheet in tighter. “Were you not the same? The group you grew up with?”
“Apart from Jake, I only met the others occasionally before I was sixteen. So there was always a certain level of…aloofness. There are ways to guard your mind, if you want to keep people out. But slowly, as we came to trust each other, we let each other in. By the time we broke away, we’d all opened up as much as is possible. It was just as well, because once everything went to shit, it was imperative that we all trust one another. We’d been so deep into each other’s minds that we knew we couldn’t lie to each other. But not like this group. It was a conscious decision with us to let the others in. With this lot here, they’re just open the whole time.”
She sat for a moment staring out of the window, to the patch of blue sky outside. “What weren’t you telling me?” she asked.
“What do you mean?” He knew what she was asking but he wanted to hear her articulate it.
“There’s a part of this you’re keeping from me. Something to do with Kane and the secret he’s guarding. You act like no one knows what that secret is, but I’m guessing you know. Why won’t you tell me?”
He decided not to deny it. “It’s not my secret to tell.” He shrugged. “Maybe once we’re safely away from here and have found somewhere to stop for a while, then we’ll talk again.”
“What if there’s no time?”
He blew out his breath. “Why do I think I’m not the only one keeping secrets? Is there anything you want to tell me, Melody?”
She looked away, just as his cell phone rang. It was the one Rose had given him, the one she had told him would be used only in emergencies. “Sorry. I have to take this.” He got out of bed and padded naked across to the chair where he’d dropped his bag the previous day. He pulled out the phone. Caller ID was a blank, but that was hardly surprising when he didn’t have any numbers on his phone. He swiped across the screen.
“It’s Kane. Are you alone?”
He glanced at Mel and she raised a brow. “Just give me a second.” He put the phone down, grabbed his pants from the floor and pulled them on. “I’ll just be a minute,” he said to Mel. Then he picked up the phone and headed out into the corridor. He shut the door behind him and walked a little distance away. There was no one close by and he raised the phone.
“I am now,” he said. “What’s happening? Where are you?”
“I’m in Boston. Rose and Kaitlin are here. They’re both fine.”
“So why the call?”
“Stefan pulled up some more information on your FBI friend.”
Quinn went still. What had they found? “And…?”
“He flagged a complaint about her. Apparently, she flashed her badge at the airport yesterday. The guy was pissed off, and he’s got enough money and influence to make things difficult for her. Only they’d never heard of her in the office.”
Quinn thought for a moment, his brain scrambling for reasons. “Maybe she worked out of a different office.”
“Stefan got curious, so he followed the trail right back. She looks perfect, records in place for everything, initial applications, training…but no one at the FBI has ever met Special Agent Melody Lyons. Not only that, but Stefan can’t find anyone by that name who could possibly be the same woman. Anywhere. She doesn’t exist.”
Shit. He’d never actually considered that she might not be FBI. Christ, what could be the reason? Was she Conclave? But that didn’t make sense. The Conclave recruited people already in place. If they wanted an FBI agent, they probably had a perfectly legitimate one somewhere on hand.
“Quinn?”
“Just thinking.”
“You need to get rid of her.”
Quinn snorted. That was Kane’s answer to everything. Killing. But whoever Mel was, he wasn’t about to get rid of her. Maybe she had her reasons for whatever it was she was doing. Until he knew, nothing was happening to her. “Fuck off.”
“Kaitlin says you like her, but this is no time to be sentimental. The tribe is what matters now. Keeping everyone safe.”
“Oh, like you care. Because you’ve taken such a fucking interest in them over the last hundred and fifty years. Aren’t you going to ask how your mom is? She asked after you.”
There was silence on the other end of the line, though he could hear Kane’s slow breathing. “I had no choice.”
“Crap. There’s always a choice.”
“So, what do you plan to do?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll talk to her. That would be a novel approach.” He thought for a moment. He knew the way Kane worked. “Don’t think you can take this into your own hands. If anything happens to her, I will hold you responsible, and you won’t be fucking happy about the results.” He ended the call before Kane could say anything else.
He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. Shit. Fuck. Crap.
He’d known there was something off about her. He just really didn’t want to have to face it now. Hell, he didn’t want to ever face it. He’d been ignoring the nagging doubt that there was more to her than there seemed, or than she was telling him.
But whoever had been trying to kill them hadn’t been bothered by the idea of killing her as well. Which meant if she was working with the people who were after them, she was expendable. He didn’t think that was the case. One thing was for sure, though—if there was even the slightest risk she was working with the people trying to find the tribe, he had to get her away from them.
He thought, for one brief second, about taking Kane’s advice and killing her.
Never going to happen.
He’d send Martin off with the tribe; they could arrange to meet up with Kane somewhere once they were away. And he’d lead Mel off in the other direction, maybe telling her he’d got a lead on the traitors inside the FBI. He gave himself a minute more to compose his features. He didn’t want her picking up that anything was wrong.
It was time to have a close look at Special Agent Lyons. If she was communicating with someone outside, he had no clue how.
Finally, when he was sure he was calm, he headed back to their room. The bed was empty, and he had a moment of panic. Had she somehow caught a warning and run? But he could hear running water in the bathroom.
The problem was, she had nothing to search. She was the epitome of traveling light. She’d turned up at the airport that morning without even a bag. He’d thought nothing of it at the time.
And she didn’t have any place on her
that she could hide anything suspicious. No jewelry, just a plain black watch. Except for her jacket, her old clothes had all been discarded, torn and damaged in the plane crash. She was wearing the new things Rose had bought for her. The jacket lay on the floor where she’d dropped it the night before when they’d made love. He picked it up; the pockets were all empty. He ran his hand over the lining but there was nothing hidden. As far as he was aware, she had no cell phone, either, which was odd. Had she lost it in the plane crash? But then, she hadn’t had a cell phone on her that first day when she’d been interviewing Martin, either. At least, she didn’t have one when he’d searched her at the safe house. What kind of FBI agent didn’t carry a cell?
He sat on the mattress, pulled on his socks and boots, then found his T-shirt under the bed. He was fully dressed by the time the door opened and Mel appeared. She had on her pants and shirt, though her feet were still bare. She looked at him warily, and he did his best to smile. He studied her—tall and slender, her hair tousled, her face free of makeup. In fact, he’d never seen her wear makeup, not even a touch of lipstick. No wonder she never bothered to carry a bag. She didn’t need one.
“Who was that?” she asked, sitting beside him and pulling on her boots.
“Just Kane. He wanted to let me know that Rose and Kaitlin are safe.”
“That’s good.” She shifted from foot to foot. “Anything else?”
He rubbed his jaw. He hadn’t shaved in over twenty-four hours and his skin was rough. She hadn’t seemed to mind, though.
Maybe he should just ask outright what the hell she was up to. But he’d wait until the others were away. He didn’t want to tip her off, just in case she was somehow in contact with someone on the outside. “Do you have a cell phone?”
Her brows drew together. “Why?”
“I just wondered. I’ve never seen you with one. Not even that first day, when we picked you up at the prison.”
“I left it on the table,” she said. “And I lost the replacement in the plane crash.”