by Judy Jarvie
Dan watches, with something dancing in his eyes, but I’m not sure what. Sadness? Depleted patience? Why does he have to get more handsome, smarter, sultrier with every passing hour? Not fair. He has stubble and it’s early. How is this possible? Has he shaved in the night? Or does he draw on the designer stubble with a spy stubble kit?
So many questions. So little sanity left.
Dan goes into his pocket and hands me his warrant card. I flip it open and see his photo, his details. The badge of officialdom.
“This is the real me. Now you know the real mission. I’m sorry it’s taken so long to get to the full truth.”
“Bit late for this. I get you’re the real McCoy.” My heart bounces inside my chest while I’m smelling the spicy scent on his skin. Feeling the tension in the man, too. Bang, bang my ethics are dead.
“I feel you deserve explanations so I’m about to give them.”
“No reason to tell me anything—just keep your distance and do your job. Cover my back and we’re good,” I say with a shrug.
“That’s so not how we’re going to play this. You and me putting up brick walls isn’t going to help us solve anything, let alone crack my biggest career case. Tavi’s death wasn’t your fault. I know that’s what you’ve been thinking, but you’re wrong. So far—and don’t quote me for divulging this—but so far top brass haven’t got it right keeping you in the dark so I’m taking a chance here—we think he was a double agent.”
“Wow! Truly?”
“Havana is undercover too, but she’s doing it for us. She cleans at the Mone Dunamis, Katsaros’ Mansion—twice a week. She’s been our biggest lead in tapping Donaldson.”
“Havana? You’re kidding?”
“Hard nut but she’s cool as a cucumber undercover. Tough as they come—the target thinks she’s just a cleaning lady, and that the muscles are because she’s a Pilates freak. Not for the black belt in Tae Kwon Do. She’s a woman not to be messed with. Our chief intelligence gatherer Tavi was pretty good too—we’d no idea he was playing both sides.”
“Or that Hav’s in love with you and doesn’t like me,” I add. “Your intel skills could do with a refresher, come to think of it.”
He semi-smiles. “Guess I was slow to pick that up, but yeah—don’t worry. I’ve talked to her. She’s not going to kill you in your sleep.”
“We hope.”
“She just thinks a civilian in the mix is messing up. It’s hard for these guys to allow someone else in on this.” Dan shrugs.
“And is it hard for you?”
He stares at me as if teleporting the answer into my brain. “Only if we let it be. We shouldn’t get personal. But we should try for amicable. Whatever you might think, I do respect you.” Dan sighs deeply, then steps near. “This is our major case of the decade and heads will go on spikes if we screw up. I can’t afford slip-ups. I wouldn’t pursue the idea if I didn’t think it could work. You’re more than able to nail this. He’ll definitely take this bait.” Dan paces, but when he turns, his gaze shows honesty. It’s full of gritty frankness and determination.
“Lives are at stake, I get it,” I whisper.
“Families are waiting for news. There’s due to be a trafficking exercise end of the week and already women are hostage at the mansion. We’re aiming to catch them in action when they try to move them on. It’s as big as it gets, and it has to stop. I’m not at liberty to say more. But trust that there are teenage girls right now being held against their will on this island—ready to be shipped out to massage parlors and prostitution rings in five different countries.” His giveaway ticking of the jaw is all the proof I need he’s finally given me enough. “Of course now I’ve told you, I have to kill you.” He grins at his own joke.
“You’ll have to wait until I’ve turned in my dad first—being so crucial to your plans. Maybe I’ll escape?”
“I wouldn’t put it past you.” Dan squeezes my hand, and my heart shimmies inside my ribcage. “You’re smarter than you look, Joseph.”
“You’re braver than I’d’ve given you credit for.”
Dan grins. “This is progress. See how good we are when we’re civil?”
“I’m guessing that’s a real shot wound on your back too—couldn’t help but notice it earlier when you wore your vest.”
“Not sayin’. Maybe I’ll keep a bit of mystery in the mix yet.”
Oh, and how the big tough guy image suits him. Adds to his stark allure. Makes me wonder and marvel at the sure-fire pure hit enigma that is Dan Draven.
A man I’ve baited and stereotyped—and none of it was right. I’d known nothing at all. Now I want to know everything. Including what rough stuff he likes most in bed.
In the full on flesh, he automatically stimulates my fantasies and attraction hormones. I like him. But he is possibly the worst kind of man ever to fall for, given my shitty past and his cop leanings.
Dangerous. Risk-focused. Married to his job.
The antithesis of what I need. Contrasting too sharply with my criminal father, but in so many ways just as driven. He courted danger and loved it, and had secrets and a dark side. Hell—why am I wondering about future options with the man anyhow?
“Don’t be too blown away by all this—it’s just a job. Ultimately someone has to do to this,” Dan says softly, too close for comfort.
“You sure know how to surprise a girl.” I find myself biting my lip, and suddenly he’s watching. Close proximity to a wise-cracking man who oozes maleness does weird things to a woman’s sense of logic and ethics. The triangle of heat inside my knickers has, right now, scored a direct ‘interest’ hit.
And there is something about being here alone together that brings back the kiss in the cave, then the kiss outside the briefing chamber—and it alters the dynamic between us. To sizzle mode full gear.
There’s intimacy hanging—like a fragile but alluring paper lantern on a tree. We’re suddenly a team of two. The boss and colleague strictures have gone. They’ve been rubbed smooth to reveal human beings—just man and woman on the same side.
Scary thought. Though I’m pretty sure that randy man and gynae parts meltdown woman shouldn’t appear in the room with a magician’s flourish as quickly as it has in my brain. Especially as I’m wearing my skin-tight T-shirt, new skinny jeans, and my nipples are pointing the way.
I seize the moral high ground as my rudder. “You were about to say sorry?”
“Yes.” He palms his hair. “Sorry. For everything. Yesterday would’ve put most new agents into the trauma zone. But you withstood. You’re civilian—with emotional baggage on the line. I feel very responsible and sorry for the situation you were put in.”
“Apology accepted.”
He says, “Well at least we’ve stopped being adversaries—though it has been fun to spar with you when you get crazy about things—but we should move past that, Kate.”
“Wow. You even called me by my correct name. This is serious. Do you feel quite well?”
“When it comes to you I’m very serious. All the way serious.” He moves to close the space between us. We’re toe to turned-on toe. “You make me off-road on the protocols script. It’s frickin’ out of order.”
“Lucky me, Sir.” My breathing has hitched, and melty middle zone is back. Purring pussy has sprung to life too. I don’t want to start creaming as a response to this verbal teasing, because that would be body betrayal over willful resistance. But, hell, this feels good and it’s been a long time.
Dan holds up his hands. “We’re thousands of miles from the office. You’re tempting in every way. But I can’t risk chasing thrills with you when the action I’m here to handle is so vital.”
I mouth an O in response that doesn’t turn into words.
“I find you attractive, but I have to get real, Kate. I’m glad you enjoyed the bath I prescribed. For now, we have to get to work. I’m glad we’re talking—can we go to the briefing room now? Or would you rather catch me up in five?”
&
nbsp; Shit. I thought he was going to kiss me, I really did.
Thought he’d close the distance, and I was gagging for it.
He turns to go and I can tell I’ve lost something. It’s something huge. He’s ignoring the earlier attraction? Over-riding the ability to connect.
And, hell, it’s a loss that’s hard to take so I stand up and grab his arm.
“Dan. What have I done to turn you off?” I bristle a bit, just because bristling felt warranted. It’s never nice to feel like you’ve lost your luster. Mine’s gone missing here. He kissed me and wanted me before—what’s changed?
Then I feel a deluge of regret. Fielding all the blame on him hasn’t been fair. He was responsible for the princess treatment from Warbie. He’s trying his best to say sorry for the balls-ups. All I’ve ever done was blame him.
He turns, and it’s only then I realize he has no gun on his chest. But through the shirt fabric that chest is more ironing board firm than I’d hitherto imagined. It reminds me of a sexy Spartan warrior, like Warbie’s cartoons. I’d love to see that in cosplay soon.
He stretches worked-out arms, and his dark tribal tattoo taunts me. Is it my imagination or are his muscles more pronounced?
“You’ll be safe from me,” Dan answers softly. “I only pursue women who’re willing and who like me. Who like it rough and play submissive to the rocks I have to crack. I won’t ravish you in the night. Gentlemanly conduct above and beyond the call of duty, I’d call it. Job comes first from here on in.”
“What if I don’t want to be safe around you?” I whisper. Gad. So desperate. So piqued to be pushed off. Get me and my pushy ‘take notice of me’ vibes!
“You’re playing with fire, Kate. It has to stop. I’m a big boy. Trust me—I can restrain my urges. Getting the perp comes first.”
I get closer yet, and in his face—what’s with me? My pulse fires into the crazy palpitation mode that happens when you’re near to something hot and lethal, and it’s a scary place called attraction. I know it and can feel it in my bones. But it’s exciting scary too.
Especially when he looks as if he’s about to grab me in those big, strong, brawny arms. Only his mouth and face are telling me he’d rather face grenade-juggling than me.
“You really know how to make an impact, but this is not the time,” Dan whispers. He reaches out and brushes his thumb over my arm. The merest of touches. But, wow, the spot zings.
Dan gulps when he lets his gaze travel over me. It feels positively carnal, and it blows me away. Because his strong ‘keep out’ stance is melting my pussy and making my nipples peak more. Causing me untold heat and sparks to jive around my body like thrill-seeking missiles.
I have to moisten my own lips because my brain is no longer functioning on any thoughts beyond sex.
“Let me kiss you.” Can you believe that’s me imploring him? I need a slap. But it’s hero worship. I blame action shows on TV.
And inside my head, as his lips meet mine, I’m yelling see—you were right to be nervous of this. This attraction should not be let loose because it messes with both of you. You clearly can’t trust yourself with this magnetizing guy. Warbie should not have turned a blind eye to this.
Dan’s hands are on my shoulders, and his lips travel over mine like warmed, honeyed wine. His tongue opens my lips, and I invite him in without a search warrant—or complaint. Wow, if this is kissing than any previous attempts with other men failed by a mile.
This is alchemy involving lips and entwined bodies. Even the lightness of his touch has me beseeching for more.
He roughs me up in the best of ways. Claiming me with a strong grasp that thrills me no end. Am I really this easy?
I kiss him back with craving fervor. Because I simply don’t want this kissing to stop. It’s hot. Addictive. Just like him.
Dan moves his hand to cup my breast and knead it with warm, firm fingers. In seconds, he’s pulled up my top and he’s inside. Fingering my breasts and teasing them and me to the point of no return. My breathing expels in jagged gasps of thrill. I push myself into those fingers that trace pure magic. I let him press me down on the small, single bed softly, trembling with need and completely in lust with him and this moment.
“Let’s do this,” I urge in a whore’s lusty whisper.
“Katie…this is nuts,” he pleads, like the marooned sailor warding off the mermaid queen.
Yes. I want him. Inside me. All of him. However he wants to do it.
He ravishes my mouth, and the feel of his strong hands and that muscular power in the man have me at his mercy. I revel in his fingers sliding down my torso to my abdomen, and I tremble as he skims toward my pussy. I’m lying back, opening my legs for easy access, because I so want this.
My molten liquid heat betrays me. He’ll feel it—I’m almost sliding off the freakin’ bed.
“Oh Kate…you drive me crazy, crap!”
I’m still in my top, but wearing it as a neck warmer and his mouth is on my areola, and I swear it turns me on so much to feel it and glance down to see him in rapture as he sucks. No way can this stop. His tongue causes sensory delight as he trails it there and nips lower, skimming a path to my navel and promising delights to follow.
But Dan swiftly, and with muttered curses, pulls away. Our eyes meet.
But not before I’d felt the long and hard length of him against my thigh. It’s thrillingly enticing. That hard bulge isn’t listening to Super Boss. There’s only one answer to this at-work conundrum. It’s driven by a motor called revved up unstoppable sperm release.
“Inside me,” I pant. “Now! Don’t you dare back out.”
Dan watches me, and that solemn unspoken question of ‘can we really go for broke?’ breaks his spell. I see the barricades re-erect even before the sentence is complete.
“We can’t,” he states.
I sit upright swiftly. His fingers were centimeters from being inside me. My apex of heat runs sweet for his fulfilment. I’m pretty sure there’s a deep molten-fired desire raging in him ready to go.
But he’s trained to resist. To bide his time. He’s a man of his word. A man of steel.
Trained not to go over the edge when the job demands. No matter how much I want hot sex with Dan Draven, and I sense this was verging into ‘gone crazy’ by how much my body craved his touch, this moment is lost.
Sanity has prevailed. Because Dan the lover’s been taken captive while Dan the Agent is back in the room on duty. With a gun and a stop warrant.
“We honestly can’t,” he says.
And I put up a hand but don’t speak.
Would sleeping with Dan now have solved or proved anything—hell no. Wouldn’t that just blow our problems even wider?
I hear him curse and sigh as he rolls onto his back and draws hands slowly over his face.
“I get the message—loud and clear. Not what we’re here for,” I tell him, as mortification takes me hostage. I long to kick it in the privates and run. I also sound calm but underneath my thoughts are like a freight train out of control. But this man doesn’t want me. Why am I doing this? But I know. It’s him. Him not wanting me. Him saying I’ve tried and I’m through. I’m so not good with that, and how.
Too many fucking rejections.
I implode with hideous results. I’ve only just realized why he’s pulling away—I’ve changed. I have a shady dad. I’m no longer a prospect—I’m beneath his contempt. In the cave, maybe I was just time-wastingly tempting? But here and now shagging would align us when we’re different polarities of moral ground.
In short, I’m too lowly to touch.
Yeah, I get it, finally. But a shard of steel stabs inside me. The hurt burning tissue and charring my good sense.
“You think you know me. With your clearances and vetting. But none of you know the real me at all. Think what you like—I’m past caring.”
But I do know how to get his attention.
I’m standing and fully taking off the T-shirt. But I turn my back a
nd pull it up high enough for the prized limited edition view. I’ve nothing beneath. I’m not showing my chest—this one’s all back.
My brand in dark, irrevocable ink.
My tatt is more of a roar than a shout.
I know he stands and steps away—entranced or horrified? That raw, electric charge moment turns explosive as I offer a feast for his eyes to shock without words.
My tattoo is awesome. Maybe he hasn’t got me so worked out at all.
Either way this is my best exit line ever.
He thinks I’m scum? Let him believe that. Showing Dan my most secret badass brand in ink says I can’t be cowed. I force on a victor’s smile that’s hollow.
Then wait for him to unlock my door without raising my gaze.
“Sex would’ve been fun, but already I’m so over you it’s scandalous.”
Chapter Ten
Dan
The after image of Kate’s awesome tattoo, in its perfect place at the base of her back, remains crystal clear in my mind. Like a visual imprint stamping our unclaimed link.
Erotic Enigma.
Erotic Enigma featured with a whip, cuffs and a belt around the calligraphic script. Could it be plainer? She craves kink. Goddamn. Would never have guessed.
A further line of tatt print beneath is an inked typographic stamp—Property of Sir.
Who is he? Why do I want to rip his throat out and erase every last letter?
I need to investigate the whats and whys. But I’m in a room with agents who’d jump down my throat if they knew my attention wasn’t on the job. Shit timing. I’ve just blown my chances to buggery.
The only sound is my own voice and the ceiling fans driving my brain crazy. I’m going through the minutiae of the plan, yet my brain vacates the track for thoughts of bare backs and black tatts with erotic edges.
It’s been a full-on three hours of initial briefing. I’m being driven in-slowly-sane.
“So. Questions? We’ll go over this again tomorrow. You’ll also be given self-defense and rudimentary martial arts training for your protection. Havana will lead. Pays to be prepared.”