Somewhere out there, the baby’s family had to be seeing the news reports. Even if they didn’t want to claim her, surely someone would step forward with information. Even if the answer came in the form of official surrender of parental rights, at least they would know.
He understood full well how family ties didn’t always turn out to be as ideal as one would hope. Memories of his brother’s death, of his parents’ grief and denial burned through him. He charged across the sitting area to the bar. He started to reach for the scotch and stopped himself. After the way his brother died…
Hell, no.
He opted for a mug of fresh local ginger tea and one of the Christmas sugar cookies instead and leaned against the bar, staring out over the water as he bit the frosted tree cookie in half. Tomorrow, he and Mari both had conference presentations, then this weekend, the closing dinner and ball. Time was ticking away for all of them. He had to make the most of every moment. Tomorrow, he’d arranged for a spa appointment for Mari after her last presentation. Surely she would appreciate some privacy after all the scrutiny….
The door from Rowan’s room opened. Mari slid through and closed it quietly after her. “Baby’s sleeping soundly. I would have taken her tonight, you know.”
“Fair is fair,” he said. “We struck a bargain.”
“You’re a stubborn man. But then I understand that trait well.”
Walking toward him, her silvery-gray sheath dress gliding over her sleek figure, she set the nursery monitor on the edge of the bar. Christmas tunes played softly over the airwaves—jazz versions, soft and soothing. Mari had fallen into the habit of setting her iPhone beside the monitor and using the music to reassure herself the listening device was still on.
She poured herself a mug of steaming ginger tea as well, adding milk and honey. Cupping the thick pottery in both hands, she drank half then cradled the mug to her with a sigh.
He skimmed his knuckles along her patrician cheekbones. “Are you okay?”
Nodding, she set aside her glass. “I just didn’t expect the press coverage to be so…comprehensive.”
Was it his imagination or did she lean into his touch.
“You’re a princess. What you do makes the news.” Although even he was surprised at just how intense the media attention had become.
The hotel staff had closed off access to their floor aside from them and the Donavans, a measure taken after a reporter was injured on a window-washing unit trying to get a bonus photo. Rowan rubbed at a kink in the back of his neck, stress-induced from worrying his tail off about all the possible holes in the security. He wasn’t sure he felt comfortable taking Mari and Issa out of the hotel again, even with guards.
“But I wanted to bring positive coverage for Issa. Not all of these cranks…”
And she didn’t know the half of it. Troy had informed him about a handful of the more colorful leads the police hadn’t bothered mentioning. A woman claiming to be Mari’s illegitimate half sister had called to say the baby belonged to her. Another call had come from an area prison with someone saying their infant daughter resembled Issa and she thought it was her twin, whom they’d thought died at birth.
All of which turned out to be false, but there was no need to make Mari more upset by sharing the details. “My contacts will sift through them.”
“Who are these contacts you keep talking about? Like Hillary and her husband?” She picked up the glass again and sipped carefully.
His glass.
His body tightened as her lips pressed to the edge.
He cleared his throat. “I went to a military high school. Makes sense that some of them would end up in law enforcement positions.”
“It was a military reform school.” She eyed him over the rim of the tumbler through long lashes.
“Actually, about half were there because they wanted a future in the military or law enforcement.” He rattled off the details, anything to keep from thinking about how badly he wanted to take that glass from her and kiss her until they both forgot about talking and press conferences. “The rest of us were there because we got into trouble.”
“Your Alpha Brotherhood group—you trust these friends with Issa’s future?”
“Implicitly.”
Shaking her head, she looked away. “I wish I could be as sure about whom to trust.”
“You’re worried.”
“Of course.”
“Because you care.” Visions of her caring for the baby, insisting Issa stay in her room tonight even though it was his turn, taunted him with how attached she was becoming to the little one already. There was so much more to this woman than he’d known or guessed. She was more emotional than she’d ever let on. Which brought him back to the strange notion that she’d been jealous of Hillary.
A notion he needed to dispel. “What did you think of Hillary?”
“She’s outspoken and she’s a huge fan of yours.” She folded her arms over her chest.
“You can’t be jealous.”
“At first, when she hugged you…I wondered if she was a girlfriend,” she admitted. “Then I realized it might not be my right to ask.”
“I kissed you. You have a right to question.” He met her gaze full-on, no games or hidden agendas. Just pure honesty. “For the record, I’m the monogamous type. When I’m with a woman, I’m sure as hell not kissing other women.”
Her eyes flashed with quick relief before she tipped her head to the side and touched his chest lightly. “What happened last night—”
“What almost happened—”
“Okay, almost happened, along with the parts that did—”
“I understand.” He pressed a hand over hers, wanting to reassure her before she had a chance to start second-guessing things and bolting away. “You want to say it can’t happen. Not again.”
“Hmm…” She frowned, toying with the simple watch on her wrist. “Have you added mind reader to your list of accomplishments now? If so, please do tell me why I would insist on pushing you away.”
“Because we have to take care of the baby.” He folded her hand in his and kissed her knuckles, then her wrist. “Your devotion to her is a beautiful thing.”
“That’s a lovely compliment. Thank you. I would say the same about you.”
“A compliment?” he bantered back. “I did not expect that.”
“Why ever not?” She stepped closer until her breasts almost brushed his chest.
The unmistakably seductive move wasn’t lost on him. His pulse kicked up a notch as he wondered just how far she would take this.
And how far he should let it go.
“There is the fact that you haven’t missed an opportunity to make it clear how much you don’t like me or my work.”
“That could be a compelling reason to keep my distance from you.” She placed her other hand on his chest, tipping her face up to him until their lips were a whisper apart.
“Be on notice…” He took in the deep amber of her eyes, the flush spreading across her latte-colored, creamy skin. “I plan to romance you, sweep you off your feet even.”
“You are—” she paused, leaning into him, returning his intense gaze “—a confusing man. I thought I knew you but now I’m finding I don’t understand you at all. But you need to realize that after last night’s kiss…”
“It was more than a kiss,” he said hoarsely.
“You’re absolutely right on that.” Her fingers crawled up his chest until she tapped his bottom lip.
He captured her wrist again just over the thin watch. He thought of the bracelets he’d surreptitiously picked up for her at the marketplace, looking forward to the right moment to give them to her. “But I will not make love to you until you ask me. You have to know that.”
“You’re mighty confident.” Her br
eath carried heat and a hint of the ginger tea.
Who knew tea could be far more intoxicating than any liquor? “Hopeful.”
“Good.” Her lips moved against his. “Because I’m asking.”
And damn straight he didn’t intend to walk away from her again.
Nine
Mari arched up onto her toes to meet Rowan’s mouth sealing over hers. Pure want flooded through her. Each minute had felt like an hour from the moment she’d decided to act on her desire tonight until the second he’d kissed her.
Finally, she would be with him, see this crazy attraction through. Whether they were arguing or working together, the tension crackled between them. She recognized that now. They’d been moving toward this moment for years.
She nipped his bottom lip. “We have to be quiet so we don’t wake the baby.”
“Hmm…” His growl rumbled his chest against her. “Sounds challenging.”
“Just how challenging can we make it?” She grazed her nails down his back, the fabric of his shirt carrying the warmth and scent of him.
“Is that a dare?”
She tucked her hands into the back pockets of his jeans as she’d dreamed of doing more than once. “Most definitely.”
Angling his head to the side, he stared into her eyes. “And you’re sure you’re ready for this?”
She dug her fingers into his amazing tush. “Could you quit being so damn admirable? I’m very clearly propositioning you. I am an adult, a very smart adult, totally sober, and completely turned on by you. If that’s not clear enough for you, then how about this? Take me to bed or to the couch, but take me now.”
A slow and sexy smile creased dimples into his sun-bronzed face. “How convenient you feel that way since you absolutely mesmerize me.”
Her stomach fluttered at the obvious appreciation in his eyes, his voice. His touch. He made her feel like the sensuous woman who wore peignoirs. He made her feel sexy. Sexier than any man ever had, and yes, that was a part of his appeal.
But she couldn’t deny she’d always found him attractive. Who wouldn’t? He took handsome to a whole new level, in a totally unselfconscious way. The blond streaks in his hair came from the sun—his muscles from hard work.
And those magnificent callused hands… She could lose herself in the pure sensation of his caress.
He inched aside the strap of her silvery-gray dress. She’d chosen the silky fabric for the decadent glide along her skin—yes, she usually preferred shapeless clothes, but the appreciation in Rowan’s eyes relayed loud and clear he’d never judged her by what she wore. He saw her. The woman. And he wanted her.
That knowledge sent a fresh thrill up her spine.
He kissed along her bared neck, to her shoulder, his teeth lightly snapping her champagne-colored satin bra strap—another of her hidden decadences, beautiful underwear. Her head fell back, giving him fuller access. But she didn’t intend to be passive in this encounter. Not by a long shot. Her hands soaked up the play of his muscles flexing in his arms as she stroked down, down, farther still to his waistband.
She tugged his polo shirt free and her fingers crawled up under the warm cotton to find even hotter skin. She palmed his back, scaled the hard planes of his shoulder blades as a jazz rendering of “The First Noel” piped through the satellite radio. He was her latest fantasies come to life.
Unable to wait a second longer, she yanked the shirt over his head even if that meant he had to draw his mouth away from her neck. She flung aside his polo, the red shirt floating to rest on the leather sofa. Fire heated his eyes to the hottest blue flame. He skimmed off the other strap of her dress until the silk slithered down her body, hooking briefly on her hips before she shimmied it the rest of the way off to pool at her feet. She kicked aside her sandals as she stepped out of the dress.
His gaze swept over her as fully as she took in the bared expanse of his broad chest, the swirls of hair, the sun-bronzed skin. He traced down the strap of her bra, along the lace edging the cups of her bra, slowly, deliberately outlining each breast. Her nipples beaded against the satin, tight and needy. She burned to be closer to him, as close as possible.
Her breath hitched in her throat and she stepped into his arms. The heat of his skin seared her as if he’d stored up the African sun inside him and shared it with her now.
“Here,” she insisted, “on the sofa or the floor. I don’t care. Just hurry.”
“Princess, I have waited too damn long to rush this. I intend to have you completely and fully, in a real bed. I would prefer it was my bed, but there’s a baby snoozing in the bassinet in my room. So let’s go to yours.”
“Fine,” she agreed frantically. “Anywhere, the sooner the better.” She slipped a finger into the waistband of his jeans and tugged.
“I like a lady who knows what she wants. Hell, I just like you.”
His hands went to the front clasp of her bra and plucked it open and away with deft hands. She gasped as the overhead fan swooshed air over her bared flesh. Then he palmed both curves, warming her with a heat that spread into a tingling fire.
Through the haze of passion she realized her hand was still on his buckle. She fumbled with his belt, then the snap of his jeans, his zipper, until she found his arousal hard and straining against her hand. A growl rumbled low in his throat and she reveled in the sound. Drew in the scent of his soap and his sweat, perspiration already beading his brow from his restraint as she learned the feel of him. She stroked the steely length down, up and again.
“We have to be quiet,” she reminded him.
“Both of us,” he said with a promise in his voice and in his narrowed eyes.
One of his hands slid from her breast down to her panties, dipping inside, gliding between her legs. She was moist and ready for him. If she’d had her way they would be naked and together on the sofa. He was the one who’d insisted on drawing this out, but then they’d always been competitive.
Although right now that competition was delivering a tense and delicious result rather than the frustration of the past. She bit her bottom lip to hold back a whimper of pleasure. He slipped two fingers inside, deeper, stroking and coaxing her into a moist readiness. She gripped his shoulders, her fingernails digging half-moons into his tanned skin. Each glide took her higher until her legs went weak and he locked an arm around her back.
She gasped against his neck, so close to fulfillment. Aching for completion. “Let’s take this to the bed.”
“Soon, I promise.” His late-day beard rasped against her cheek and he whispered in her ear, “But first, I need to protect you.”
She gritted her teeth in frustration over the delay. “Rowan, there are guards stationed inside and outside of the hotel. Can we talk about security forces later?”
Cupping her face in his broad palms, he kissed the tip of her nose. “I mean I need to get birth control.”
“Oh…” She gasped, surprised that she hadn’t thought of it herself. She’d come in here with the intention of seducing him and she hadn’t given a thought to the most important element of that union. So much for her genius IQ in the heat of the moment.
“I’ll take care of it.” He stepped away and disappeared from her room, his jeans slung low on his hips. Lean muscles rippled with every step.
She was an intelligent, modern woman. A scientist. A woman of logic. She liked to believe she would have realized before it was too late…. Before she could complete the thought, Rowan returned. He tossed a box of condoms on the bed.
“My goodness,” she said, smiling, “you’re an ambitious man.”
“I’ll take that as another challenge.”
“Sounds like one where we’re both winners. Now how about getting rid of those jeans.”
“Your wish is my command, Princess.” He toed off his shoes, no socks on, and p
eeled down his jeans without once taking his eyes off her.
His erection strained against his boxers and she opened her arms for him to join her. Then he was kissing her again and, oh, my, but that man knew how to kiss. The intensity of him, the way he was so completely focused on her and the moment fulfilled a long-ignored need to be first with a man. How amazing that the man who would view her this way—see only her—would be Rowan.
He reclined with her on the bed, into the thick comforter and stack of tapestry pillows, the crash and recede of the waves outside echoing the throb of her pulse. The sound of the shore, the luxurious suite, the hard-bodied man stretched over her was like a fantasy come true.
Only one thing kept it from being complete—something easily taken care of. She hooked her thumbs into the band of his boxers and inched them down. He smiled against her mouth as his underwear landed on the floor. Finally—thank heavens—finally, they met bare body to bare body, flesh-to-flesh. The rigid length of him pressed against her stomach, heating her with the promise of pleasure to come.
She dragged her foot up the back of his calf, hooking her leg around him, rocking her hips against him. He shifted his attention from her lips to her neck, licking along her collarbone before reaching her breasts—his mouth on one, his hand on the other. He touched and tasted her with an intuition for what she craved and more, finding nuances of sensitive patches of skin she hadn’t realized were favored spots.
And she wanted to give him the same bliss.
Her fingers slid between them until her hand found his erection, exploring the length and feel of him. His forehead fell to rest against her collarbone. His husky growl puffed along oversensitized skin as she continued to stroke. Her thumb glided along the tip, smoothing a damp pearl, slickening her caress. Her mind filled with images of all the ways she wanted to love him through the night, with her hands and her mouth, here and in the shower. She whispered those fantasies in his ear and he throbbed in response in her hand.
Groaning, he reached out to snatch up the box of condoms. Rolling to his side, he clasped her wrist and moved her hand away, then sheathed himself. She watched, vowing next time she would do that for him.
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