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by Janelle Denison


  Within seconds, they were wild and on fire for each other. Paige knew this wouldn’t be a gentle loving; what she longed for was fierce and primitive, and Josh was well on his way to giving her the untamed joining her heart and body clamored for.

  She nearly tore off his shirt in her haste to touch bare skin. He shrugged out of the garment, and she rubbed her palms over his chest, dizzied by the feel of heat and muscle. She skimmed lower, over his flat belly to the waistband of his pants, struggling to unbuckle his belt. An encouraging moan purred in her throat when he reached behind her, unzipped her dress, and trailed his fingers down the ever-widening path to the base of her spine. She lowered her arms, and the silky fabric slid down her body and pooled around her feet, leaving her scantily clad in wispy cocoa-colored panties and a matching sheer lace bra. His pants and briefs quickly followed.

  He reached to pull her close, to rid her of her lingerie, but she had other ideas. She broke their kiss and looked her fill of him, savoring every inch of his naked body. And he let her, though she knew by the tense set of his jaw it took incredible restraint. He was a gorgeous man, his body honed and tightly muscled. She stroked the breadth of his shoulders, touched her fingertips to his chest, lightly circled his navel…and explored lower, her gaze inexorably drawn to the thick arousal jutting from the nest of dark hair between his thighs.

  Before she reached her destination, however, he grasped her wrist and jerked her hand away. “Paige, I can’t take much more,” he said gruffly.

  She licked her dry lips, moistening them with her tongue. Her heart pounded in her chest as she thought of all the things she wanted to do to him. With him. Erotic things to remember for a lifetime. “Let me touch you,” she whispered. “Please.”

  His eyes darkened, and she knew he wouldn’t refuse her provocative request. But she never could have anticipated his next move. Holding her gaze with his, he lifted her hand to his lips and sucked each one of her fingers into his mouth, thoroughly wetting them, then slid his soft tongue over her palm. Her stomach clenched and she grew damp, liquid, ready.

  Lowering her lubricated hand, he wrapped her fingers around his straining shaft. She stroked his rigid length with her slick palm and he grasped her face between his large hands and kissed her, slipping his tongue deep within her mouth, enticing her with his own brand of seduction. And with each silken glide of her fingers he grew impossibly harder, thicker…

  He groaned helplessly and lifted his mouth from hers. “Too fast,” he muttered, stopping the motions of her hand.

  She was breathing hard, her pulse racing. Yes, she did feel a little out of control, but she reveled in the uninhibited sensation. Her heart hammered, with excitement, anticipation and an urgency he instinctively understood.

  With a dark oath, his mouth descended once again, crushing hers in a lush, rapacious kiss as he guided her back until her spine was flattened against the cool wall and his hot body pressed intimately into hers. He buried his face into the curve of her neck and she arched into him, gasping when his erection slid against the silk covering her mound. She moaned and tilted her hips, needing him inside her, half out of her mind for him to ease the building ache there.

  “Josh, now,” she begged, moving shamelessly against him.

  “Not yet,” he breathed hotly against her skin. Grasping the straps of her bra, he pulled them down her arms, just until her breasts sprang free from the lacy netting. His hands plumped the flesh, squeezing, caressing, then lifted her straining nipple to his mouth so he could suckle the tender nub of flesh.

  A jolt of sexual longing swept through Paige, rendering her breathless.

  Josh charted a path of wet kisses down her belly, bathed her navel with his tongue, while dragging her panties down her legs. He nudged her thighs apart, wasting no time in taking her deeply, carnally, with his mouth and tongue. She sucked in a breath and dug her fingers into his hair as her knees threatened to buckle. His tongue flicked, teased, stroked her slowly, sensually, drawing out the incredible pleasure until it became too intense to bear.

  He pushed her over the edge and she soared, climaxing with a low, keening cry she couldn’t hold back. Tremors rippled through her body, and he carried her the entire way.

  For the briefest moment he left her, opening the nightstand drawer and groping for something inside-a condom, she realized in a dazed fog as she watched him tear open the foil pack and roll the protection onto his erection.

  He glanced at her, his chest rising and falling, his gaze dark with unquenched passion, yet tinged with hesitancy, too. He made no move to reach for her, leaving the next decision up to her.

  Unhooking her bra, she let it fall to the floor, then stepped toward him. Her palms pressed against his chest, guided him back until his legs hit the edge of the mattress. She followed him down onto the bed, straddled his hips, accepted the fullness of him and rode him. His hands were everywhere, fondling her breasts, rubbing her thighs, clutching her hips so he could drive deeper…

  With a low, masculine growl, he rolled, pinning her beneath him, so they were face-to-face. Heart to beating heart.

  She touched his jaw, stared into his eyes. “I love you, Josh,” she whispered, the words slipping out of their own accord. She didn’t regret saying them, couldn’t, not when tonight held so many uncertainties, so many risks.

  “I know,” was all he said, then lowered his head and kissed her sweetly, tenderly.

  He made love to her with exquisite slowness, extending their time together for as long as possible. Eventually, his measured thrusts gained momentum. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she lifted her hips, urging him deeper, urging him to fill the darkest part of her soul. Languid strokes became harder, quicker, a succession of rhythmic lunges that made him groan and shudder and finally reach his own powerful orgasm.

  Minutes later, when he finally recovered, he lifted up on his forearms to stare down at her, and brushed away tendrils of hair from her face with his fingers. A gentle smile curved his mouth, but an awesome sadness filled his eyes. “How’s that headache of yours?”

  She laughed when all she wanted to do was cry. “Cured,” she said, wishing there was as simple a remedy for the consuming ache in her heart

  11

  “I HOPE VICTOR doesn’t penalize for tardiness,” Paige murmured wryly as she and Josh made their way along the tiled walkway leading back to the mansion. The sur was setting behind them, spreading a glorious array of fiery colors across the sky. Carranza’s big house loomed in front of them, foreboding and imposing, causing are uneasy shiver to race through her.

  “We’re fashionably late,” Josh stated, giving the hand tucked in his a squeeze. “And considering Carranza’s ‘amenities’ are at fault, I’m sure he won’t hold us accountable.”

  Her skin flushed at his blatant reminder of how they’d spent the afternoon-how they’d made good use of those condoms stashed in the nightstand. Her face warmed even more when she realized the undercover officers planted around the estate were privy to their intimate conversation, via the wireless listening devices they wore.

  After making love the first time, Josh had pulled her into his arms and ordered her to rest. Safe in his embrace, she’d dozed off, only to wake an hour later to his hands caressing her breasts and his warm, damp breath on her neck. Instinctively, her body came alive for him and she turned toward the heat he generated, her legs automatically parting for him to slide in between. He loved her in more ways then she could ever have imagined, each time taking her higher, satisfying a hunger that had been building for years.

  They’d showered together, scrubbing each other’s backs, chests, bellies, thighs, and other tender, sensitive areas. The water steamed, Josh’s hands glided over slick skin, and his mouth and tongue started the feverish need again. This time was desperate and a little rough as he took her against the tiled shower wall, his hips pumping repeatedly, frantically, as she arched to meet his deep thrusts. His mouth was just as bruising, marking her in the most primit
ive sense. His eyes glowed hotly, and his hands gripped her buttocks, pushing, pulling, establishing a relentless sensual slide that elicited those strong, feminine contractions from the depths of her womb. And then he came, head thrown back, eyes closed, a low, ragged groan ripping from his chest.

  Satiated, he’d slid to his knees, taking her with him so she straddled his hips and their bodies remained joined. The water beat down on his back, drizzling over them like rain. They kissed and touched, loath to separate. Finally, the water grew chilled, forcing them to face the inevitable.

  They dressed, she in a long black velvet gown that left her shoulders bare to display the dazzling Ivanov necklace, and Josh in the tuxedo he’d rented for the weekend. He’d secured his revolver beneath his pant leg at his ankle, then silently tended to Paige’s means of self-defense. Slipping his hand into the sexy slit of her dress that reached to just above the knee, he strapped a small holster around her thigh to hold her derringer. His fingers had lingered, stroking her skin, as if one last touch would sustain him for the rest of his life.

  “Carranza is expecting so many people, I’m sure we can slip in unnoticed,” Josh said as they neared the elegant mansion.

  His deep, reassuring voice dissolved the intimate thoughts flitting through Paige’s mind. She nodded, her gaze on Carranza’s sprawling manor, her throat too tight to speak. Lights glittered from the windows and lilting music drifted out the second-story balcony doors. Her stomach churned with apprehension and she wished the awful sensation away. She had to remain calm and focused-emotional strength would carry her through this ordeal. She realized that this man by her side gave her that courage.

  About ten yards away from the back entrance to the mansion, Josh stopped and abruptly pulled her into his arms, kissing her one last time. She returned the embrace, uncaring who witnessed the exchange. His heart beat rapidly beneath the palm she pressed to his chest, matching the cadence of her own pulse.

  He lifted his mouth and stared down at her, his eyes soft and infinitely tender. Warm fingers traced the outline of the Ivanov necklace to where it formed a V near her cleavage. She’d worn her hair up, and a slight breeze tickled the fine hairs at the back of her neck.

  “You look beautiful,” he murmured.

  She managed a smile and brushed back a lock of dark hair that had fallen over his brow. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

  He cocked his head and offered her his arm. “Shall we?”

  Drawing a deep fortifying breath, she nodded and looped her hand through his forearm. He led the way inside, following the stream of people heading up a spiral staircase to the second level of the mansion, a section of which was filled with round tables draped in fine linen, and set with gleaming silver and gold-rimmed china. A huge parquet dance floor dominated the other half of the ballroom.

  The place was overflowing with men in black tuxedos and custom-made suits, and women dressed in elegant gowns and fabulous glittering jewels. Paige’s necklace was by far the most stunning, the diamonds and emeralds winking under the light the crystal chandelier cast off. Men nodded as she and Josh mingled, and women stared, their gazes moving from the Ivanov piece to her face, then on to Josh, where their smiles turned decidedly friendly. Josh smiled back, though the possessive way he touched her made it more than clear that his interest was captured solely by her.

  Paige felt like a fraud in this elite gathering, and very uncomfortable. The necklace hung like a hundred pound weight around her throat, and she tried not to think about the compact gun pressed so snugly against her thigh.

  Jacketed waiters passed with trays of champagne and appetizers, making brief eye contact with Josh and leaving Paige to wonder if they were Metro-Dade officers. Josh retrieved two crystal goblets of the fizzing liquid and handed one to her, for appearances’ sake, she assumed. Not daring to taste any more than a few drops on her tongue, she pretended to sip the bubbling drink. She wanted nothing to cloud her judgment or reflexes.

  A five-piece band played jazz music, laughter filled the room, and Paige struggled to keep at bay the anxiety creeping over her. She wanted this confrontation over and done with, but knew Carranza would pursue the necklace in his own time. She couldn’t imagine how he would confiscate the Ivanov piece with so many people around to witness an exchange. According to Reynolds’s plan, she wasn’t to take the necklace off, but had been instructed to bait him so he’d be forced to resort to extreme measures that would put him in a position to be prosecuted.

  “Ah, there you are, Paige.” Carranza’s smooth voice drifted from behind them. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  Paige’s heart leapt. Lifting her lips in a semblance of a smile, she and Josh turned to find Victor and a shorter man with a severely receding hairline standing beside him. Both were dressed in black tuxedos, and Paige decided the sinister color suited them.

  Carranza’s gaze touched on the necklace, then traveled up to meet her eyes. “I take it your headache is gone?”

  “Yes, I feel much better.” Most likely, if he’d bugged the room, he knew exactly how she and Josh had spent the afternoon-living up to the pretense of lovers. His congenial expression, however, didn’t give away a thing.

  “Good.” Picking up her hand, he patted it affectionately. Her skin crawled, and she resisted the urge to jerk her fingers from his. “It would be a shame if you didn’t enjoy the evening because you weren’t feeling well.” Releasing her hand, he inclined his head toward Josh. “Mr. Bennett, are you enjoying yourself?”

  “Immensely.” Josh saluted Carranza with his glass of champagne and smiled indulgently. “The amenities are outstanding.”

  If their performance hadn’t been so crucial, Paige would have elbowed Josh in the ribs for that remark.

  Carranza stared at Josh for a long moment, and though he smiled, there was a sudden dark glint in his eyes that made Paige nervous. Then he turned toward the older man beside him. “Paige, I’d like you to meet Alfred, my personal appraiser. Alfred, this is Paige Montgomery, proprietress of the Wild Rose, the boutique I expressed an interest in for Bridget.”

  “It’s a pleasure.” Alfred shook her hand, then Josh’s, his beady gaze drawn to the diamonds and emeralds draped over her throat. “The necklace is exquisite,” he agreed, a dark brow rising. “I can see why Bridget wants it for herself.”

  “She’s been pouting ever since she saw it in a portrait Paige has hanging in her boutique.” A waiter passed with a tray of appetizers, which they all declined. Carranza glanced back at Paige. “Would you mind if Alfred has a closer look at your necklace?”

  She smiled sweetly and lightly touched the jewels. “I’d rather not take it off.”

  Carranza didn’t look pleased by her refusal, but quickly covered up his irritation and offered an alternate suggestion. “Very well, he can give it a quick appraisal while you’re wearing it.”

  His audacity shouldn’t have surprised her, and as much as she wanted to deny his request so she didn’t have to endure his appraiser groping the necklace and her neck, she had no justifiable reason to do so.

  Alfred lifted a jeweler’s loupe to his eye, and took hold of the diamond and emeralds to inspect them. Paige stiffened as his cold fingers brushed her skin, and tried desperately not to shudder in revulsion. Josh stood beside her, looking appropriately bored.

  Finally, Alfred released the necklace and stepped back, giving Carranza a slight nod. “It’s a very fine piece,” he declared.

  A satisfied smile touched Victor’s mouth. His narrowed gaze scanned the crowd of people, and finding Bridget holding court amongst a cluster of men, he motioned for her. She glided toward them, her sleek body wrapped in a black sheath that displayed every curve.

  She nodded to Paige, gave Josh a sultry once-over, then glanced up at Carranza.

  Victor smiled at her. “Pussycat, are you sure this is the necklace you want?”

  She eyed the diamonds and emeralds, her full lips pursing petulantly. “I’m sure. Whatever it costs,
I want this original, not a duplication.”

  “Very well.” Carranza released a long-suffering sigh, then glanced back at Paige. “Perhaps later this evening we can discuss a fair price for the necklace?”

  Paige laughed lightly, a chuckle that sounded strained to her own ears, and forced the reply Josh had rehearsed with her. “Actually, I’ve had other inquiries about the necklace. I heard it was part of the Ivanov collection and I’m not sure I want to part with it.” She caressed the smooth jewels and smiled. “After all, it does have a certain sentimental value attached to it.”

  A muscle in Carranza’s jaw twitched, and something dark and dangerous glittered in his eyes. “I hope you’ll reconsider.”

  She gave a noncommittal shrug. “Maybe it would be best for Bridget to find another emerald-and-diamond necklace that is more…attainable.”

  Bridget’s gaze sparked with a flash of fury that sent a touch of fear skittering along Paige’s spine. Carranza, too, looked none too happy with her unwillingness to give them what they wanted. Obviously, they hadn’t planned on her not cooperating.

  To Paige’s immense relief, dinner was announced, interrupting the tense moment. Obviously displeased, Carranza excused himself, and flanked by Bridget and Alfred, headed toward the dining area.

  “Well, he’s certainly been baited,” Paige commented, leaning close to Josh as they wended their way to the table they’d been assigned to.

  He pulled out a chair for her to sit. “We’ll see what happens,” he murmured, then took the seat next to her.

  They spent the next hour dining on a fabulous fivecourse meal. Josh ate his dinner with gusto, but Paige pushed her food around on her plate, knowing her churning stomach would never be able to digest any of the rich entrées. Instead, she nibbled on her bread and consumed three glasses of water, hoping that bland diet would settle her anxiety. They conversed politely with the couples seated at their table, but Paige remembered little of what they’d discussed.

 

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