Harlequin Intrigue November 2013 - Bundle 2 of 2

by Carla Cassidy

  “You must’ve been reading my mind—or listening to my stomach. I’m starving.”

  “I’m up for a burger and fries, you?”

  “I’m going to the pizza place.” She jerked her thumb toward a counter with a red-and-green-striped awning.

  “Meet you back at a table in this general area. Do you have money?”

  “It’s on Zendaris.” She waved a twenty at him.

  Deb ordered a couple of slices of thin-crust pepperoni pizza, a small salad and a diet soda. Bobby had just been discovering the joys of pizza before he’d lost his appetite. A gnawing sense of worry joined the hunger pangs in her belly. She hoped Bobby’s jailer was feeding him more than ice cream.

  She dipped her hand into a canister, grabbed a few packets of Italian dressing and tossed them onto her plastic tray. She maneuvered through a tour group set free for lunch and claimed a table in the middle of everything.

  A few minutes later Beau turned from the counter of the burger place, peering over two plates of food.

  Deb waved and he weaved his way through the tables to join her, and plunked his plates onto the table.

  She snatched a fry from the towering stack. “That’s for eating my scone this morning.”

  He shoved the plate toward her. “You can have a lot more than that if you want.”

  “I’m good.” She swallowed the fry and picked up her pizza. “How do you like the tour?”

  “It’s interesting. Those men who signed the Declaration risked a lot, didn’t they?”

  “Nothing worth having comes without some element of risk.”

  “I agree.” He nodded and bit into his burger.

  She dabbed her lips with a napkin and took a sip of her soda. She’d do well to remember that. If she wanted Bobby to know his father, she’d have to risk Beau’s wrath and tell him about his son.

  They ate their lunches, talking about the tour and history and their favorite players in the Revolution. They talked about everything but Zendaris and Prospero and the anti-drone plans.

  They even talked about Bobby. Deb peppered her conversation with stories about him and how he’d changed her life. This had to be gradual. Once she sprung Beau’s paternity on him, he had to have a feel for Bobby. She didn’t want Bobby to be a complete stranger to his father.

  Beau flipped open the brochure on the walking tour. “Are you up for the rest of the walk? Paul Revere’s house and the USS Constitution and Bunker Hill?”

  “Let’s do it.” She collected her trash and piled it on the tray. “We may not be here tomorrow.”

  They dumped their trash in the cans and stacked their trays on top. They went out a side door to continue their walk.

  A light changed and Deb stepped off the curb. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a car surge past the rest.

  As she turned to face it, her world slowed down. The large black SUV careened through the intersection, heading straight toward her. Beau yelled out. Deb took one step and froze. Would she be continuing into the path of the car? Should she jump back?

  Then she realized it wouldn’t matter. Where she went, the SUV would follow.

  Chapter Eleven

  The SUV bore down on them, narrowly missing a car scooting through the intersection. Beau called out to Deb, but she seemed frozen, transfixed by the black vehicle.

  If she didn’t move within a split second, he’d have to move her.

  Hell, what was he waiting for? He hooked an arm around her waist and yanked her back onto the sidewalk, smashing her into the corner of a building.

  She gasped and it sounded as if she’d spent all her breath. A woman screamed—not Deb. Tires squealed, filling the air with the smell of burning rubber.

  When Beau looked up, the SUV was speeding around the next corner. Someone had covered the license plate with paper.

  Of course.

  A woman hovered above them, panting and cursing. “Can you believe that idiot? He almost took us out.”

  Wouldn’t be the first time.

  “Are you okay, ma’am?”

  “I’m all right, just shaking like a damned leaf. Is your wife okay? That moron came closer to her than me.”

  Deb raised her head, her eyes wide in a white face. “Oh, my God, he almost hit us. Was anyone hurt?”

  The woman pressed a hand to her forehead. “No, but it wasn’t for lack of effort on that driver’s part. He went right through the light and then it seemed as if he waited for pedestrians to enter the crosswalk before stepping on the gas.”

  Deb had sat up and was leaning against the building. A slight scrape marred her smooth cheek. “Thank God he didn’t hit anyone. Did anyone get his license plate?”

  “Big black behemoth—that’s all I saw.” She shrugged, straightened her jacket and stepped into the crosswalk again.

  “Beau?”

  “Big black behemoth with paper covering the plates.”

  Deb covered her mouth. “Then it was deliberate, and I don’t think it was aimed at Miss Pink Jacket.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “What if it is Zendaris?”

  “Deb—” he hooked an arm beneath hers “—we’re not going to discuss this on the street.”

  She brushed off her jeans. “Let’s continue this walk.”

  “Are you crazy?”

  “What? Do you think he’s going to try it again?”

  “Stay close to me.”

  “So he can take both of us out?”

  “I thought you were convinced he wasn’t going to try the same stunt twice?”

  “He’s not, unless he has another blind car waiting in the wings.”

  They continued their walk, but this time, Beau kept his arm firmly around Deb’s shoulders. When she squirmed under the weight of his arm, he took her hand and pulled her close, matching her step for long step.

  “Why would you think Zendaris was trying to kill you when he’s using you to go after the anti-drone plans?”

  “Is he? Is that what he’s using me for? So far he’s had me rob a jewelry store and kill a man. How is that bringing him any closer to the plans or me any closer to Bobby?”

  “What do you think he’s doing?”

  “Playing some sadistic game. He can’t get to Cade, J.D. or Gage, so he’s taking all his fury out on me.”

  “I have a different take on it.” He pulled her onto a bench looking out on a park with brown, wintry grass. “I think someone else is after the plans, knows you’re after the same thing and doesn’t want to lose out to you. He’s trying to eliminate the competition.”

  “Who’s he working for?”

  Beau rested his ankle on his knee. “Maybe he’s someone like me—a freelancer.”

  “Maybe he’s working for Prospero.”

  “I was working for Prospero when the first shot was attempted in the hotel room.”

  Turning toward him, she placed her hands on his thigh. “Jack Coburn has excellent instincts. Maybe he knew from the get-go you weren’t to be trusted.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Maybe he was testing you.”

  “Seems kind of convoluted to me.”

  “If your scenario is correct, Beau, we can’t let this other guy beat us to the punch.” She dug her nails into his leg. “If he gets the plans before I do, it’s over for Bobby.”

  “Don’t think like that.” He lightly rapped his knuckles on her head. “We’re double the trouble. Nobody is going to beat us at our own game.”

  She managed a weak smile. “Onto the USS Constitution?”

  “For liberty and justice for all.”

  “That’s the Pledge, not the Constitution.”

  “Conceived in liberty and dedicated to justice?”

  “Ge
ttysburg Address.”

  “I give up.” He stood up and pulled her to her feet. “I obviously need the rest of this history lesson.”

  When they got back to the hotel, Beau stopped at the sundry shop and bought some cotton balls and antiseptic spray. In the room, he dabbed the scratch on her face, and she sucked in a breath.

  After Beau treated her scratch, Deb hopped onto the bed and punched the pillows behind her. “If the guy in the SUV today is the same one with the high-powered rifle at the other hotel, he must be following us. That’s just one of many things that scares me right now. If he’s tracking us, who’s to say Zendaris isn’t tracking me. And if he is, he knows about you.”

  “Whoa, you’re making a lot of leaps here.”

  Tilting her head back, she closed her eyes. “I just want Bobby back. I don’t care about the plans, Zendaris or even Prospero. I just want to hold my son in my arms.”

  The mattress sank and Deb fluttered her lashes. Beau was on the edge of the bed, his blue eyes brimming with some emotion she couldn’t identify.

  Was it pity? She’d take that. She’d take anything from him at this point. Once she told him about Bobby, she may never get another chance to be with him.

  And she wanted to be with him.

  Beau inched closer. “Turn around.”

  Folding her legs beneath her, she presented her back to him. His strong hands closed around her neck.

  “You’ve been on a roller coaster for over a week.”

  With his thumbs, he rubbed circles at the base of her neck.

  “It’s been more bearable since you showed up.” She dropped her chin to her chest.

  “This is not something you want to face on your own.” His knuckles massaged the sides of her neck. “Even if you’re a tough-as-nails Prospero agent.”

  She huffed out a breath. “Is that what you think?”

  “That’s what I know. That’s the woman I was attracted to in Zurich, and I’ve seen flashes of her in Boston—fearless, determined.”

  “I told you, I changed after Bobby.”

  “And I like this Deb even more. You’re still fearless and determined—this time to protect your son—but you have some soft edges now that you were missing before.”

  His hands moved to her back, smoothing over the sharp angles of her shoulder blades.

  “That’s what having kids will do to you.” She rolled her head back and hissed through her teeth when he dug his fingers into the flesh on either side of her spine.

  “Does that hurt?”

  “In a totally good way.”

  “You have so many knots in your neck, shoulders and back. You’re holding all your tension in those areas.”

  “Are you a masseuse in your spare time?”

  He chuckled in her ear, a low sound that made her mouth water.

  “One of my sisters is a masseuse. She’s taught me a thing or two. She claims every time I come back to the family homestead, I’m tied up in knots.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. You always seem coiled and ready to spring.”

  He lifted her hair and pressed his lips against the back of her neck. “Not always.”

  If she melted against him right now would he take the hint? “Beau...”

  “Shh.” He gathered her hair in his hands and buried his face in it. “If you don’t want more, that’s okay. If you do, that’s okay, too. I’m not going to think you’re less of a mother or less of an agent if you want to make love with me. It is what it is, Deb.”

  She turned toward him, and her hair slipped from his hands, falling around her shoulders. “I can’t pretend anymore. I can’t pretend that you’re just some man who turned from a predator to a protector. You’re a man who’s been on my mind for the past three years.”

  “God, I’m glad to hear you say that.” He encircled her waist with his hands. “I thought it was just me. I thought I’d built up a night of incredible sex into some epic encounter that I’d never experience again.”

  Stroking her hands across his shoulders, she smiled. “An epic adventure—yeah, it did feel like that.”

  She couldn’t resist those lips a second longer. She shifted forward, and he took it from there.

  When their lips met, a jolt of pure desire zapped her from head to toe. He felt it, too, because he held her tighter as if he was afraid she’d fall from the bed.

  His hands tangled in her hair as he positioned her head, angling his mouth across hers. Their tongues tangled. Their breaths came heavy and hard.

  Would it be like the first time they’d collided? Frantic. Eager. Breathless.

  No. Tonight Beau Slater held her in his arms, not Loki. Tonight the father of her child held her in his arms.

  He deepened the kiss, and stroked her back, slow and easy. Had he read her mind? This time the reckless abandon that had possessed them three years ago had morphed into a slow sensual dance.

  Sitting back, he slipped his hands beneath her legs and pulled them straight, causing her to slide onto her back. He rolled up the hem of her T-shirt and trailed rough fingertips across her belly.

  “This time I want to fully appreciate every inch of you.” He nudged the shirt up farther and ran his thumbs across the bottom crescents of her breasts through her lacy bra.

  She gazed at him through her lashes. “Are you going to take ten minutes to get my T-shirt off?”

  In one swift movement, he yanked it up and over her head. Then he placed it over her eyes. “Maybe you need to stop directing the action here, lie back and enjoy.”

  “I can do that.”

  The makeshift blindfold made every touch and every sensation a surprise, a welcome surprise. When she thought he’d continue his exploration of her breasts, he tickled the lobe of her ear with his tongue instead. When she thought he’d follow that up with a kiss to her mouth, he slid his hand beneath her bra and cupped her breast while teasing her nipple.

  And on it went. Blindfolded, she became a canvas for his fingers, mouth, lips and tongue—and she still had on the majority of her clothing.

  Finally, he slid her jeans over her hips and pulled them off, along with her panties. He brushed his hands along her inner thighs, parting her legs.

  She held her breath, as tingles raced along her flesh, gathering in all the sensitive areas of her body. She could feel the heat emanating from his skin and knew all the rustling and clinking had come from the removal of his own clothing.

  She almost snatched the blindfold from her eyes so she could feast on the sight of his naked form, but then she’d spoil his party.

  He straddled her and the tight flesh of his erection brushed her belly.

  Unbidden, her hips rose from the bed in anticipation.

  Beau clicked his tongue. “Impatient woman.”

  Then he flicked her nipple with the tip of his tongue.

  She gasped and began to draw her legs together, but he caught the insides of her thighs with both hands. “Keep your legs open—for me.”

  The growl in his voice had her quivering like a bowl of Jell-O, but she obeyed his command. Did she have a choice?

  He continued toying with her nipples—tongue and fingers, pleasure and pain. His game had her squirming on the mattress beneath him.

  After tweaking it, he sucked one nipple between his lips. As he pulled the aching nipple into his mouth, one finger drew a hard line from her navel to her throbbing folds.

  The shock thrust her pelvis upward, and a groan escaped from her lips. “Why are you torturing me?”

  He nipped her lower lip with his teeth. “Do you want me to stop?”

  Raising her hands, she dug her fingernails into the first flesh they met—one hip and one arm. “Don’t you dare. But can’t you lift the blindfold so I can see where the next sneak attack is
going to land?”

  “And why would I do that?” The bed dipped on either side of her and she felt his knees at her hips.

  Again, she hitched up her hips, but he cupped her breasts and squeezed them together. The hot flesh of his erection eased between the cleft of her breasts, poking her chin.

  Two could play at this game.

  She dropped her chin to her chest and stuck out her tongue to sweep it across his smooth skin.

  He groaned but didn’t stop. Neither did she. After a few more strokes, the time he spent close to her mouth increased until he stopped pumping her breasts altogether.

  Hitching up on her elbows, she took him fully into her mouth. When she reached for the blindfold, he cinched her wrists.

  “Not yet. I’m not done with you yet.”

  She gave a throaty laugh. “I thought I was just about to finish you off.”

  “You’ve clearly forgotten this is Loki you’re dealing with—master of self-control.”

  He slid down her body and plunged his tongue into the warm folds between her legs. He drove her to the edge of madness with his mouth, lips and tongue.

  As her belly coiled and her muscles tensed, he pulled away from her. She cried out and then amplified that cry when he drove into her.

  He pulled the T-shirt from her face and scorched her with a gaze of blue fire.

  She exploded around him. Wave after wave of pleasure surged through her body, and she clamped her legs around his hips to ride out the storm.

  He gave a great shudder, slammed against her once, held his position for a few seconds and then continued stroke after stroke as he emptied his seed deep inside her.

  When he finished he collapsed to the side of her, nuzzling her neck and caressing her breasts. “Can I just say, Madam Spy, that you’re the best lay I’ve ever had in my life?”

  “Aww, I’ll bet you say that to all the lady spies.” She punched him in the shoulder where her fist met solid muscle.

  He grabbed her hand and kissed every knuckle. “No, I don’t.”

  “Food, blindfolds, you’re quite the inventive lover.”

  “I think the food was your idea.”