by Dana Marton
“Are you okay?” He put his arms around her and let the door shut behind them.
“I thought you were gone.”
“I was in the shower,” he said, and pulled back so he could look at her. “I decided to stay an extra night. I wanted to have another chance to talk with you.”
The relief that was still flooding her added to the feel of him practically naked holding her in his arms, took her breath away.
“Are you okay?” he asked again.
She pressed her lips to his.
He took them gently, but didn’t deepen the kiss and pulled away after a short while. “I think we should talk before—”
Great. The one man who wanted to talk before and she had to pick him.
“You told me truth always triumphs in the end,” she said. “The truth is, I think I’m falling in love with you. I don’t want to never see you again.”
“That’s what I was going to talk to you about. Give me a second to get dressed.”
She closed her eyes for a second, then drew away and nodded. If he wanted to get dressed, what he wanted to tell her wasn’t what she wanted to tell him. Because one of the things she would have really liked from the man she was falling in love with was for him to be naked, now, with her on the bed.
She had misread him. How was that possible? How big of a fool was she? Had she been away from society and normal relationships for so long that her judgment had failed her completely?
She swallowed the disappointment and the pain. “I better get down there and get my car out of illegal parking. I’ll wait for you in the lobby.” She couldn’t look at him as she walked out.
He was down in ten minutes, dressed in shorts and an island shirt, looking better than a man who was about to give her the brush-off should.
“Ready?”
She nodded.
He led her through to the parking garage, jiggling his keys. Was he nervous?
“Where are we going?”
“Can’t tell you. But man, I hope you’ll like it.”
His lips stretched into a nervous smile. The first nervous smile she’d seen on Brant Law. She wouldn’t have thought anything could get him rattled.
She became only more puzzled when he turned toward the ocean after pulling out from parking. “All the major roads that go to Seven Mile Beach are plugged with traffic.”
“We’re going to the marina,” he said.
He wanted to go boating now? Then she remembered his passion for everything that ran on water. “You bought a boat?”
“You’ll have to wait and see,” he said.
He had splurged on some water-wonder and he was bringing her out to show it to her because he considered her a friend. She should have been happy. At least he considered her as something. She swallowed the urge to bang her head into the dashboard and decided not to ask any further questions. She wasn’t sure how long she could contain her disappointment. It would have been nice to hang on to some dignity, at least.
They were at the marina in fifteen minutes. He had a WaveRunner rented in another five.
“You wanted to show me the ocean?” she asked, but got on behind him.
“Give me a few more minutes,” he said as he headed straight out.
Maybe he’d gone loopy, hit his head when they went down with the hotel. Did concussions have weird symptoms like this? Delayed reaction?
“Want to switch? I wouldn’t mind driving.”
“You don’t know where we’re going.”
She wondered if he did.
But then he cut the motor and turned around, turned her toward the beach instead of the ocean. The sun was just going down over the row of villas in the back of the private beaches. The sight was breathtaking.
“Okay, first things first. I arranged for a secure phone for you for tomorrow morning. You can call your family if you want. Just don’t mention the mission. You will still have to keep your cover.”
Tears clouded her eyes; she couldn’t believe that he had set this up. Lord, it had been a long time since she had called home. “Thank you.” She swallowed hard, but couldn’t keep smiling.
He turned her gently and pointed to the shore. “Now about item number two on tonight’s to-do list. You are not going to ask me what we are looking at?”
She was definitely driving back. “The sunset?”
He shook his head and pointed again. And she recognized the hangout from the other night where they had parked on the beach while they’d watched Cavanaugh’s boat come in.
“My new house,” he said.
And she was wondering if she, too, was getting loopy, or if she misunderstood him. “What do you mean?”
“I rented it. I’m going to stick close by for a while longer. Not that I don’t trust the team or Nick to get the job done. It’s just that—” he hesitated “—this mission is too important, perhaps the most important thing I’ve done in my career. And you are…You are quickly becoming the most important woman in my life.”
This time he didn’t wait for her to throw herself into his arms, but moved in and kissed her with the same hope and passion that had been in his voice.
And all she could feel was poignant pleasure; all she could think was that Brant had rearranged his life so he could be close to her.
Nothing had ever been as good as his lips on hers. She snuggled closer and buried herself in his warmth and his strength and his desire for her that she was now close enough to feel.
“I want you,” he mumbled the admission against her lips.
“It’s good to be on the same page,” she said.
“We should probably wait until the mission is over and our relationship is not so complicated.”
“It’s not complicated now. I’m no longer a convict on probation. I’m a volunteer,” she said, and slid her hands under his shirt.
“What are you doing to me?”
She would have thought that was obvious, but spelled it out just to be clear. “Fighting for what I want.”
“Then by all means, keep up the good fight.” He pulled her onto his lap.
For a long heated moment or two she was thinking she could stay like that forever. But it wasn’t true, her need for him was growing, pushing her for more, bringing an urgency she had trouble controlling.
And why should she? She lifted her arms when he tugged at the bottom of her halter top, helped him pull it over her head.
“You don’t have a bra on,” he said on a choked voice.
“The top had one of those elastic things built in.”
“Best invention since—ever.” He leaned back to allow her to help him out of his shirt.
He lifted his hands to her arms to caress them, his strong, warm fingers gliding across her skin. When he finally cupped her breasts, she leaned back to offer him better access. She wanted more of him, all of him, forever.
The WaveRunner wobbled under them, rocked by the water. She felt perfectly safe with him. She always had, she realized, since she had first met Brant.
His hands slid down to encircle her waist and slowly slipped off the short wraparound skirt she wore, then stopped as he had just caught himself, realized what he was doing. “Should we go out to shore?”
Did she want to wait a minute longer? Definitely not.
She drew her legs up between them and divested herself of her underwear.
“Good choice,” he said as he performed a pretty interesting bit of acrobatics to get rid of his shorts.
Then he pulled her back onto his lap again, facing each other, nestled against each other’s bodies, making a perfect unit as they melted together. He dipped his mouth to her breast and savored one nipple then the other.
Oh, that—that— She squirmed against him as heat flooded her in a couple of strategic places.
He had a magnificent body. She began exploring it shyly at first, then became more and more brazen. Her fingers glided across smooth cords of muscle as they shifted under his skin with every move he made. She love
d the breadth of his shoulders, the smattering of fine hairs across his chest—everything about the way he felt under her hands.
She wanted to spend hours discovering him like this, having him discover her in turn. Hours, weeks, years.
But at the same time a tidal wave of urgency was rushing to shore inside her body. She wanted him, now, now, now. She shifted closer on instinct, blindly seeking the release his mouth on her breast was promising.
He seemed to receive her silent message because he slid his hands under her bottom and lifted her up, over and onto him.
She arched her head back as pleasure sliced into her sharp and overpowering before slowly disbursing to every cell.
Then he moved.
For the first few thrusts, she could do nothing but hang on to his shoulders for support. Then the urgency returned and she began to move with him with the perfect unity of the planets moving together.
“I’m glad I didn’t know it could be like this,” he said on a rasp voice. “You’ve driven me half-crazy as it is.”
“I might have entertained a few fantasies about you,” she admitted.
“Like what?”
She made him wait for it.
“There was a bodyguard-to-the-rescue scenario.”
He groaned.
She was smiling as she went on. “Then the whole James Bondish love in an escape pod in the middle of a spy mission thing.”
He pressed deep inside her. “A healthy imagination is a thing to be encouraged.”
“You didn’t expect this much creativity from an accountant, did you?” she teased.
“I’ve come to expect just about anything from you,” he said.
Then he picked up pace and both of them fell silent, in a mad race toward something unnamable all of a sudden, toward the sunset or the world beyond it, toward forever and happiness and a sheer physical joy that left them breathless.
It didn’t seem like the pleasure that raked her body could get more intense and more immediate, but he managed it somehow with every thrust.
“Brant.” His name tore from her lips.
His gaze melted into hers. “I know.” His voice was so rough it came out barely above a whisper.
Then she lost track of time for a while.
When they came apart, into tiny pieces so they seemed one and the same, particles of light floating, glinting on top of an ocean of pleasure, she cried his name again, with desperate passion this time and he kissed her, kept kissing her until they were slumped against each other, weak and giddy and only half-believing the intensity of what had just happened.
I’ve missed this, she thought, just as he said, “I’ve missed you.”
She was correcting herself that she couldn’t have possibly missed this, because she had never experienced anything remotely like this before, when the meaning of his words finally reached her pleasure-fogged brain.
“How could you miss me? You didn’t know me before,” she asked against the warm skin of his neck then looked up into his turbulent eyes.
“I meant—” He looked away with the most endearing embarrassed expression.
“What?”
“There’s nothing worse than a sappy FBI agent,” he said gruffly.
“I love sappy FBI agents.” She smiled.
He held her tighter. “Better make it just this one.”
“I love this sappy FBI agent.”
Everything seemed to stop around them, the waves, the breeze, the seagulls in the air.
“Sometimes it seems like I’ve been waiting for you forever,” he said, then winced. “I better balance that with something macho.”
“Right.” She grinned, her knees still deliciously weak, her body sated to the point of feeling like quivering Jell-O. “You have a reputation to uphold.”
He looked into her eyes deep and long. “I love you more than I love the combustion engine.”
“You sure know how to turn a woman’s head,” she said over the mad thumping her heart insisted on all of a sudden.
“I want us to be like this forever,” he said, then gave a twisted smile. “Oh, man. Was that sappy again?”
Her heart did a big slow roll in her chest. She lifted her lips to his. “Nothing wrong with sappy. I love sappy.” She wouldn’t have minded a whole lifetime of it.
And his eyes promised that and more.
“I love you,” he said just before he kissed her.
ISBN: 9781426801495
IRONCLAD COVER
Copyright: © 2007 by Dana Marton
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Table of Contents
CAST OF CHARACTERS Anita Caballo —Her life was torn apart when she was framed for embezzling from the family business. Now, with a chance to prove her innocence, will she survive long enough before someone tries to silence her forever? Brant Law —FBI special agent. Brant selected Anita for the mission, but is far from trusting her. Before long, Brant wonders if she’ll actually succeed in knocking down the walls around his heart. Nick Tarasov —Member of the Special Designation Defense Unit. He trained the women for the mission. David Moretti —The women’s legal advisor. Samantha Hanley, Carly Jones and Gina Torno —The other three members of SDDU. Tsernyakov —Illegal weapons trader. He is among the five most wanted criminals in the world. Philippe Cavanaugh —An international businessman who is up to his neck in dirty dealings. William Bronten —Anita’s old boyfriend.
Chapter One She was bait, dressed in clingy red silk to attract the attention of every man in the room. The spaghetti-strap gown was sleek and sophisticated, the cut over her right leg revealing enough skin to be interesting but still acceptable for the serious businesswoman she was supposed to be. “I’ve got visual of target number two,” Gina’s voice rasped through the nearly invisible transmitter in Anita’s ear. “I don’t see him.” She spoke under her breath toward the flower-pin-slash-microphone on her shoulder as she turned in a slow circle, her body tensing. “Where is he?” “Upstairs to the left of the bar. Right under the chandelier.” She looked in that direction, but too many people were standing between her and the spot Gina had indicated. The lavish reception the Cayman Islands Chamber of Commerce was throwing in honor of its members was in full swing, the black-and-white checkered marble tiles of the floor barely visible under the feet of guests who were networking, scoping out
Chapter One
Chapter Two A woman screamed as people all around ducked for cover. With four years of federal prison and an intensive FBI crash course behind her, Anita managed to stay reasonably calm as she kept her head down. “Unarmed?” Brant poked his head out, trying to see. “Sorry.” She had thought about bringing her gun to the Chamber of Commerce reception, but there hadn’t been room to hide it under her slinky dress and her evening bag was barely sufficient to hold her cell phone, a
tube of lipstick and the stack of business cards she had collected during the evening. She’d gone to the party to make connections, not to engage in a gunfight. She hadn’t thought the weapon would be necessary. He didn’t chastise her for the lapse, but pushed her forward. “Let’s go. Toward the kitchen.” All for getting out of there, she crawled under the tables among people who looked stunned, scared and confused. Spilled food and broken plates littered her path—a few tablecloths had been pulled down in the panic o
Chapter Two
Chapter Three She was out of prison. He rubbed the headache at his temple. She was out and at the worst possible time. And she had lied. Whatever she was doing, this was not some government program to help her to readjust to society after her years of incarceration. Where had she gotten the car from, the apartment and the job? He had expected some halfway house where he could get to her easily, where there’d be a bunch of other ex-cons and weapons and drugs, so when her body was found, not much would be questioned. Instead, here she was in the Caribbean, as high and mighty as she had ever been, with another company and employees and money. What game was she playing? And who was her guy? They’d left the party together, drove to the ritzy part of the island and parked. Probably making out. He should have taken care of her then and there. Maybe both of them. But it had been dark and to top it off the car had tinted windows. He didn’t want to miss. So he had waited until they were at the r
Chapter Three
Chapter Four “You know him?” All Anita could do was stare at the man Brant was holding, disbelief and an overpowering sense of betrayal numbing her. Sam and Carly came up behind her, then Gina, who stepped between Anita and William, keeping her gun out while she made sure the man was fully secured. “Why?” Anita asked, finding her voice at last. William shrugged without looking at her, his lips pressed tight. He was angry. He’d been angry at her before. For normal reasons. Right now he was mad because he hadn’t succeeded in killing her. The thought seemed utterly unreal and bizarre and just incomprehensible. “Why?” “Let’s get out of here.” Brant pushed him toward the road. “I’m parked by the carousel.” “My car is closer. Next to the boat rental,” Gina said. The women had all come in her SUV, sticking together as much as they could since the shooting two nights before. “Okay.” Brant tucked his weapon out of sight then pulled his car keys from his pocket and tossed them to Carly. “You and