Ibarra waved Serrano toward the wide stone stairs that swept up to the foyer of the hotel and sent a hand signal to his lieutenant, who slipped back inside to warn the others.
The President was here.
* * * * *
The guards were nervous and distracted. Olivia found it easy to ask for permission to go to the washroom, then find a moment when they weren’t looking and dodge back into the corridors of the hotel.
She knew they would find her again quickly enough, because unlike Daniel, she didn’t know where all the cameras were placed and wasn’t able to avoid their one-eyed gaze. As soon as whoever was monitoring the cameras realized she was wandering the corridors, they’d send a guard to round her up and bring her back to the public rooms with the rest of the herd.
She even had her excuse ready to go. “Oh, I just wanted to get some tampons from my room.” The mention of feminine hygiene supplies tended to wither and embarrass the most macho of men and would stop them from questioning her further.
For the few minutes until they caught up with her, she could enjoy the illusion of personal freedom and time alone to think and not have to worry about what was showing on her face, or who was watching her. She could find a closet, or a private corner and relax in total privacy.
Olivia wandered the corridors for a few minutes, taking random turns and corners, pushing through doorways, letting herself get deliberately lost. She found herself in back passages and service corridors, with squeaky linoleum and scratched paintwork. These hallways were new to her and a novel distraction. She realized with a thrill there was likely no security cameras in these areas at all.
She moved through a large kitchen area that was still, silent and cold with steel and shadows, before pushing through double-wide doors into an equally wide service corridor and walking down that. Ahead, she could hear the approach of many feet. She hesitated. She couldn’t afford to be caught by anyone back in this section of the hotel. Tampons wouldn’t hold up as an excuse now.
Then Daniel rounded the turn in the corridor ahead, moving fast. It was almost a run, his long legs striding out, his arms swinging. When he saw her, he checked, then came hurrying forward again. His eyes were icy.
He grabbed her upper arm and hauled her to one side. When she took a breath to protest, his other hand slapped down over her mouth, the fingers digging into her jaw. He had no intention of letting her make a single sound. He almost lifted her off her feet as he pulled her over to the side of the corridor. The strength in him!
There was another narrow corridor just off to the side. It was a service access way, barely four feet wide and filled with painted pipes. It was warm and dim and unlit. He pushed her up against the wall inside the corridor and flattened himself against her, spreading his arms and legs so they covered hers.
“Don’t make a sound,” he breathed in her ear. “Don’t move at all.” He ducked his head against hers.
Hiding her hair.
Abruptly, she realized he was shielding her. Daniel was slightly darker in color and he was wearing dark clothes, while she was wearing a white shirt and soft green linen pants. In this dim light, with her hair, she’d glow. Anyone with decent peripheral vision would see her as they passed.
The approaching boots, many of them, were almost upon them.
With Daniel hiding her this way, Olivia couldn’t catch a glimpse of who passed by. Instead she listened to the military precision of the boot steps. Such a large party could only mean trouble. But who? Ibarra? What was going on?
Daniel knew. That was why he had appeared around the corner just before they had arrived. He had been watching them. Finding out.
She could feel his heartbeat against her. Olivia had supposed that in situations like this he would be calm, his heart rock steady, yet his heart was racing.
He was warm against her. Hot like a stone baking in the sun. She could feel her body relaxing against him, like a lizard stretching out. The need to rub herself against him and soak up the heat was almost overwhelming. She curled her hands into fists, letting her fingernails bite into the flesh of her palms. The little sting helped her fight the urge.
With Daniel shielding her as he was, she was almost totally immersed in his personal scent. She closed her eyes. If he wore a cologne or aftershave it was so subtle she couldn’t detect it. Instead what she experienced was raw, masculine, spicy and so uniquely Daniel she felt the corners of her mouth lift. She would recognize it anywhere. She turned her face a quarter inch into the nape of his neck and inhaled gently so he would not notice.
It was the wrong thing to do, she realized. Almost immediately, a powerful wave of lust hit her. Her body throbbed and beat with it.
She swallowed, trying to deny the rising need with mental discipline. However, with Daniel pressed against her, making her aware of every part of her body and of his, too, it was a challenge she wasn’t sure she wanted to win.
In the end she squeezed her eyes even more tightly closed, took a deep breath and waited for the moment to end. She had to ride it out. She had to.
After what seemed like two weeks had passed, the marching boots faded away. The swinging doors to the kitchen fell shut with a squeak.
Daniel’s body lifted away from her and she opened her eyes once more.
He was glaring at her. “What the fuck are you doing down here?” he growled, his voice low.
“Getting squashed to a paste by you,” she shot back. “Otherwise, none of your fucking business.”
He pushed a hand through his hair and she was amazed to see it was shaking. “Do you know who that was?” He pointed at the corridor where all the boots had just passed.
“Ibarra, I assume.” She shrugged.
He smacked the wall by her head. “Christ, Olivia, it was Serrano. Serrano!”
“President Serrano? Here?” The implications were perfectly clear. If the President had seen fit to personally visit the hotel, it meant one of two things. Ibarra could have found himself a confirmed and identified American and they were about to make an announcement—which wasn’t possible because there wasn’t nearly enough chaos and upset among the hostages. The other alternative was that Serrano felt Ibarra wasn’t making fast enough progress and had come here to push things along. That meant trouble.
“If he’d seen you, Olivia, you would have been Serrano’s first interviewee,” Daniel said. “I’ve heard about Serrano’s interview techniques. He makes Ibarra look like Mother Theresa. If Serrano has run out of patience, he won’t care how he gets his confirmation now, as long as he gets it.”
Olivia shivered. “Well, he didn’t see me.”
Daniel’s fury seemed to radiate off him like a furnace. “What if I’m not around next time? Or the time after that? I can’t keep pulling your coals out of the fire every time you decide to do something barmy. You’re a diplomat, Olivia. Will you please start behaving as if you understand this stuff?”
“I do understand this stuff,” she said stiffly. “Better than you.”
“Then why are you acting like you failed your Basic Politics course whenever I’m around?” he growled.
“Because you’re around.”
Daniel stared at her. His mouth opened, but he didn’t speak.
“Bet you’re not angry anymore,” she said softly.
She planned on Daniel denying he wasn’t angry and storming away, even more furious than before. Or perhaps even laughing and admitting he wasn’t angry and letting the atmosphere diminish that way. Either reaction would do, because the tension was back. The tension wasn’t affected by their anger. Or perhaps the anger was just a mask. Her craving for him hadn’t diminished under his fury. It lay simmering just beneath. The whole time she railed at him, she was also watching his body tense and flex beneath his clothes. The way his eyes glittered in anger. The working of his muscles. The play of his lips.
In the back of her mind she wondered if he wanted her the way he had last night, or if that had been a momentary madness and soon f
orgotten.
Had he liked pressing himself up against her?
Almost peripherally, the questions passed through her mind as she railed at him. Now she had challenged him with her taunt, hoping he would either laugh, or go away, too angry to deal with her, because she couldn’t take this a second longer.
His reaction was not one she expected.
Daniel pressed himself up against her again, making her breath catch. His hips pressed into her and she gave a shaky, hitching gasp, for she could feel every inch of him. Her breasts brushed against his chest, in a delightful, light touch that made her tremble.
Daniel held her still, his face inches from hers. His lips came a little closer. “I want you to stop fucking around with words,” he said, his voice low and rumbling against her chest, “and start fucking me.” His lips touched hers. The lightest of brushes.
“No,” she breathed, her heart thundering. Yet she lifted her lips up for more and knew she was lost. Daniel was going to get his way.
“‘No’ is a good word,” he agreed. “I can hear you screaming it as I make you come.” His hand stroked her thigh through the soft linen, trailing up to her hip, slipping over the belt to her waist and caressing her skin through the silk. His thumb made soft semicircles on her flesh beneath her breast and she moaned into his mouth as his tongue slid over her lower lip. “So is ‘yes’. Say ‘yes’, Olivia. Say it.” His voice was a purr, as his lips brushed hers, promising much more with each delicate touch.
“I’m afraid to say ‘yes’.” The confession pushed from her, then she held her breath, waiting for his ridicule.
Daniel lifted his lips from hers and looked into her eyes. “Why be afraid?” he said gently. “The chances of any of us getting out of here are growing slimmer with each passing day. You think Serrano is going to just let us go, shrug and say ‘sorry’ to the United Nations and expect they’ll give him full diplomatic status after this?”
Again, it was not the reaction she had been expecting. She remembered to breathe again and puzzled it through. Daniel was right. “Then why is he doing it?”
“Because he hasn’t figured it out for himself, yet. He’s still operating under the illusion he can blackmail the United States into being his allies and wrench diplomatic status out of the U.N. As soon as he tries it and realizes he can’t, he’s not going to admit he’s got us all here. He’s going to get rid of the evidence as swiftly as possible and sterilize this hotel. It’ll be as though we were never here. A Marie Celeste for real.”
She frowned. “That day is going to come soon, now Serrano is here.”
Daniel nodded. “Why worry about consequences?” he asked her reasonably. “Why worry about anything much at all except what you want?”
“Is that what you’re doing?”
His thumb stroked her lip where she had chewed it. “Yes.” His voice was low.
Olivia reached for him. Daniel pushed her back again. “Say it, Olivia.”
“Want to crow over me, is that it? Your ego needs the full victory and nothing short?”
He shook his head. “You need to hear yourself saying it. You’re too good at denial.”
“You’re kidding.”
Daniel just stood there, watching her, his hands loose about her waist. She throbbed with the idea of him sliding those hands a few inches higher. Her breasts ached at the idea.
“This is ridiculous,” she fumed.
He smiled and bent to lick the nape of her neck, making her shudder and sending a ripple the length of her spine. “You want me. You just have to say it.” His teeth nipped her neck and his tongue caressed it in a rough stroke.
“Yes, I want you,” she said and gasped as his tongue thrust into her ear.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he asked.
She pushed back on his shoulder. Hard. It was enough to make him step away from her. “Your turn,” she said, reaching for her belt.
“What?”
“Your turn. You want me. You just have to say it. Convincingly. I’m a diplomat and I know bullshit when I hear it.” She slipped the belt undone and the button beneath and reached for the fly.
Daniel was watching her with avid concentration. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“Waiting for you to declare yourself.” She pulled the fly down and in the quiet passage it made a tiny hissing noise. Her trousers settled low around her hips. In this light, Daniel would be able to see the blue lace beneath.
He cleared his throat. “Olivia….” His voice was thick with arousal.
“I’m waiting.” She turned her back to him and lowered the pants to her ankles, bending at the hips. There wasn’t much room in the passage and Daniel was only a step away. She could almost feel his hips against her as she bent over.
He didn’t rise to the bait. She stepped out of the trousers, keeping her low stilettos on. She threw the trousers over a bend in one of the pipes. Still keeping her back to Daniel, she reached up for the clip holding up her hair and pulled it out. She shook her hair out and looked over her shoulder at Daniel.
“You’re reluctant to admit—” That was as far as she got.
Daniel pushed her up against the wall with a choked oath. His hands were everywhere, but most importantly, they were fumbling at her shirt, trying to release the tiny buttons she knew he dared not rip away down here in the public rooms. She slipped them undone beneath his fingers.
“Yes, I want you,” Daniel breathed in her ear as he slid his fingers inside. “I want you badly enough I haven’t slept for two nights. The women you hate to see me with have left me unsatisfied since the night I saw your long legs and your revulsion. I want you enough that I wonder what might happen if we do survive this nightmare.”
Olivia gripped the wall with the flat of her hands as he stroked her. Dimly, she marveled at the poetic beauty of Daniel’s words.
He took her—hard and rough and with no mercy, up against the wall, his body straining against hers, his breath harsh.
It had been so long! Olivia trembled as he possessed her.
They lost track of time, there in that dim, dusty corridor. It was just the two of them, heat mingling, their bodies working hard, driving each other to mutual pleasure so intense it stole her vision.
When Daniel let her go, Olivia couldn’t prevent the little sound of disappointment that fell from her lips. He looked at her and raised a brow, then lifted her chin. “Don’t worry. I’m not done with you yet.”
Chapter Six
Daniel’s lips brushed Olivia’s. “Pick up your pants.”
She pulled them off the pipe. “Why?”
“So I can do this.” He lifted her up so she fell over his shoulder. “Stay silent for a moment,” he murmured and stepped out of the cramped passageway.
She froze. He was going to carry her around with her naked rear in the air? She clutched at him, her pants against his back, as he strode down the corridor toward the deserted kitchen. She felt rather than saw him straight-arm the swinging doors open. Then she was laid upon cold steel. One of the prep tables.
Daniel grabbed her hips and pulled her closer to the edge and her shoulders slid along the steel with the silk shirt beneath them. His eyes in the still dim light seemed too dark to give out anything but mystery. He spread her legs, his fingers stroking her thighs, which made them quiver. “Beautiful,” he declared.
“You’re a leg man,” she decided.
“I was speaking of all of you,” he said. “But your legs are an absolute delight.” He lifted her knee and straightened her leg, resting his hand under the ankle. “Gorgeous, in fact.” He kissed the instep and she caught her breath, which made him smile. He slowly licked and nibble his way from her ankle to the top of her inner thigh, pausing to stroke with his tongue, tease and torture her as the mood struck him. She writhed on the table, panting and trying to clutch at his head and bring his mouth to where she wanted it.
Daniel evaded her grip and merely extended her other leg. For long minutes, he s
ucked and licked his way from her ankle to her thighs, making her squirm and her breath to stutter. Then her peak hit her, the pleasure spearing her with an intensity that held her frozen for a second. Then, when she could, she screamed.
Daniel’s hand covered her mouth almost instantly, but it was too late. She had made a sound that could be mistaken for nothing other than a woman enjoying herself.
He watched the door. Then he lifted his hand away and shook his head, with a smile.
She grinned back. “All your fault,” she said.
They heard the voices. Near and coming nearer. Spanish.
“I told you I heard something down here,” came one voice. Male.
“And there is not a thing here at all,” came the second.
Daniel lifted her off the table, hauled her over the edge of it and down onto the floor behind it. There was a big stainless steel cabinet there and he pushed her behind. She crawled into the space between the cabinet, the wall and the big solid side of the commercial steel table.
Daniel crowded in behind her as the two voices stepped into the kitchen.
“Nothing, see?”
“Out in the corridor?”
“The door is closed.”
“It is a swing door. They might have gone that way.”
“It would still be swinging.”
“Look, you want to chase after ghosts, or you want to go watch Serrano scare the shit out of the silly prisoners? We are supposed to line them up at six for inspection. It could be fun.”
“More fun than this place has been the last month. All right. We should go back.”
There was a soft shuffle of boots, then silence.
Daniel looked down at his illuminated watch face.
“How long until six?” Olivia asked.
“Forty minutes.” He backed out of the squeeze and helped her out.
She shook out her linen trousers.
“We have to get back to our rooms and shower,” Daniel said. “Fresh clothes. Fresh everything. Just don’t wash your hair.”
She hesitated, staring at him. “They’ll inspect me that closely?”
Hostage Crisis Page 9