And he didn’t like it. It was one thing to go after a woman, have a fling and be done, both adults taking their pleasure and going on their separate ways, but quite another to feel so protective about her.
Damn it. She couldn’t be a spy. She was too fresh-faced and dewy-eyed, tugging at his emotions when he knew better than to let himself become involved. He didn’t want to admit to himself that he enjoyed flirting with her, teasing her, urging her over the line into that place where the two of them could take pleasure in one another’s arms.
“Her parents were the best agents the CIA had. When she was younger, they traveled as a family. They often used their only child as a decoy.”
Jason had never caught Kincaid in a lie. The man might not tell him everything, but he was a straight shooter. Yet, Jason couldn’t swallow that last statement. “You’re telling me the U.S. government now hires kids to be spies?”
“Not at all.” At Kincaid’s ready admission, tension flowed out of Jason’s stiff shoulders. “I’m saying her parents sometimes used their daughter to further their own careers and assignments. Government sources believe that her folks may have taught her spycraft.”
“I’m not sure I’m following. Her folks were American. They worked for us, right?”
Kincaid hesitated, then answered. “We don’t know.”
“What do you mean that you don’t know?”
“I suppose since they are dead, there’s no harm in telling you that her parents worked for the CIA. But they also worked for Soviet Intelligence.”
“They were double agents?”
“Triple agents, we think. But…”
“But?”
“Our government needs to cover all the bases. However, with most of the CIA’s focus on terrorist groups, Kimberly Hayward is currently a lower priority. So the Shey Group was hired to watch her, and I tagged you for the assignment.”
No doubt Kincaid’s best men were assigned to more important missions, too, or Kincaid would never have called in the favor. While Jason appreciated his assignment, he still wanted Kimberly’s name cleared. “Is she aware that her parents were triple agents?”
“We don’t know. That’s another reason why I need you to stay with her. While she’s overseas, someone might try and contact her.”
“Fine. But tell me why a spy might want to steal the Book of Celts?”
“That’s what you’re supposed to find out.”
Damn. Jason hung up the phone, his thoughts whirling in a windstorm of possibilities. As far as he knew, the relic was valuable but held no political significance. It didn’t make sense that a spy would want to steal the book.
Kimberly could be perfectly innocent, or she could be deceiving him with her guiltless act. The pieces of this puzzle didn’t quite fit and Jason suspected that Kincaid still knew more than he’d told him.
So Jason added up what he knew to be fact. The Book of Celts wasn’t in her room, but she could have been working with a partner. He couldn’t vouch for her completely. However, if she was working with someone else, her partner might very likely be on her tour.
Was that why she’d objected so strongly to Jason’s joining their group? Had she feared that his presence would make it more difficult for her to meet undetected with someone else?
Or had her response been more elemental? One of a woman to a man? Kimberly would have to be an idiot not to recognize the simmering tension between them. And she was no idiot.
Perhaps it was for the best that Kincaid hadn’t pulled him off the assignment. Jason could hardly wait for tomorrow.
ALL OF Kimberly’s research into Ireland for her script hadn’t prepared her for the wild places within a stone’s throw of Dublin. From the back of the boat Jason had rented for their afternoon outing, she gazed upon miles of bogs interspersed with monumental peaks and big glens and cliffs that were crammed with tarns. Waterfalls cascading down rocky promontories flowed into the black River Liffey, home to trout, pike and kingfish. But as she took in the scenery from the open deck beside Jason, her mind didn’t remain for long on the broad vistas or the deep draughts of mountain air that she kept dragging into her lungs.
Nor was she reminiscing about the fine meal they’d just enjoyed at a quayside pub. In Ireland the day’s main meal, dinner, was typically eaten around 1:00 p.m. and they’d feasted on potato soup, Irish stew, fresh and crusty brown bread, thickly sliced and slathered with butter, colcannon—potatoes cooked with onions, cabbage, cream and butter—and washed it all down with tea. And they’d sampled plum pudding and apple tarts for dessert.
Kimberly took in the scenery, but her mind kept returning to the love scenes Quinn wanted her to add to the script. Specifically the boat scene on the River Liffey. Following her script, titled A Burning Obsession; Jason had cut the motors and had anchored their floating barge. He’d chosen one of those lazy out-of-the-flow nooks in the river where time seemed to stand still. Ashore, sheep grazed the green grass fields. On the main part of the river and out of sight, the traffic passed them by, leaving them in the wake of tiny ripples.
“Ready?” Jason held out his hand to lead her to the forward deck. A table and chairs waited under a canopy that shaded it from the afternoon sun.
Was she ready? Kimberly had no idea. But she’d made up her mind that for once in her life she wasn’t going to play it safe. She was going to enjoy herself. Her inhibitions would not stop her from being with a man as dynamic, charming and sensual as Jason.
She dragged in another fresh breath of clean mountain air, let it out slowly, then squeezed his hand. At the sight of the board game on the table, her mouth went dry from excitement. She didn’t have to play, but she would. She could call this off, ask him to turn the boat around and head back to the Dublin quay, and yet, the challenging gleam in his gaze didn’t just egg her on but proved irresistible. As did her elevated pulse.
“Are you ready to play?” she asked him.
She wasn’t. Not really. She was already on edge, and she doubted she’d be able to settle down and concentrate. On the other hand, he looked as cool and collected as a world-class poker player bluffing a full house. And way too handsome.
He’d handled the barge with a skill that had amazed her until he’d volunteered that he’d grown up around boats. Hence, his interest in kayaking, he’d reminded her, and for some reason his pointing that fact out had jarred her a bit. But she couldn’t figure out why.
“White goes first.” Jason picked up a white stone and a black stone and put both hands behind his back. Then he held out two closed fists to her. “Choose.”
She tapped his right hand and he opened it to reveal a white piece. “I go first.”
“Yes.” He opened a board. “When we are done, this board will be full of stones. The object is for each one of us to surround the other’s pieces. Each time that happens, the winner gets to remove an article of clothing from the loser. And darling…”
“What?”
He shot her a charming, knock-your-socks-off grin. “I can’t wait to see what color underwear you’ve chosen.”
She stuck out her tongue at him. “You sound pretty confident. Suppose I’m the one who finds out what you’re wearing?”
He chuckled. “Well, I think with your kind of confidence, we ought to place a side bet.”
“Side bet?” Why did she feel as though she’d been waiting all her life for this moment?
“The winner also gets a kiss.”
She frowned at him. “That means the loser also gets a kiss.”
“But the winner gets to choose the kiss’s location.”
At his words, her heart rate skipped.
Kimberly couldn’t believe she was going to do this. Or how badly she wanted to do this. When she’d written the script, back when she’d made plans to come to Ireland, she’d imagined castles and green scenery and a boat ride along Dublin’s banks—but not in her wildest imagination had she envisioned a scene like this.
Especially in the warm lig
ht of day.
Especially with a man as coolly amused as Jason. His piercing look seemed to dare her.
The game had yet to begin, but she could barely think about strategy. She kept looking at Jason, taking in his dark blue assessing eyes, his determined jaw, that amused grin. And she couldn’t help thinking how badly she wanted to remove his shirt. Yes, she liked the idea of sitting opposite him fully dressed while he—
Don’t count your chickens, Kimberly, girl. First she needed a plan.
She tossed the white stone back and forth from palm to palm, considering the board intently. If she placed her piece on the edge, he couldn’t surround her. Yet, placing her stone in the center would give her more options. And what of the corner, the safest play of all?
Jason didn’t rush her thinking. He seemed to enjoy her indecision, the amusement stamped on his face.
Come on, Kimberly. Decide. Surely the game couldn’t be won or lost on the first move?
She placed her piece on the board.
Jason put his right next to hers. They played silently for about ten minutes before she saw that she’d fallen into a trap. He’d surrounded her white stones with his black ones.
“Time to pay up,” he told her.
“Okay.” She agreed, holding her breath as she waited for him to choose.
He seemed to draw out his answer, but perhaps that was her own heartbeat counting off microseconds. “Come here.”
She stood, pushing her chair back from the table. Closing the two steps between them on rubber legs was harder than she’d imagined. He didn’t stand, but turned his chair, spread his thighs and drew her between his knees.
And then he tugged the tail of her blouse from her jeans, taking every opportunity to trace his fingers over her sides, her stomach, her ribs. She had figured he would take off her shirt and demand his kiss. She hadn’t realized that he was going to torture her with sensual overload as he did so.
The man was in no rush. He’d barely raised her shirt up two inches before she was eager for him to take it off. And that’s when she realized that the winner didn’t just get to remove an article of clothing, they got much more, they got to caress and stroke and tease.
And by the time he finally raised her shirt to reveal her bra, she didn’t know if she could stand the sensual tumult needed to play this game. But then she saw how his eyes focused through the lacy purple to her hardened nipples and realized that he might be turning her on, but in doing so he was also teasing himself into a world-class erection.
He hungrily eyed her lace-covered breasts as he pulled the shirt over her head. “How did you know purple’s my favorite color?”
“A lucky guess.”
“I’m going to claim my kiss now.”
“Okay.”
She gave her permission, expecting him to pull her head down to kiss her mouth. Instead, he reached out, wrapped his hand around her back and pulled her right breast straight into his mouth. And he sucked on her right through the bra, causing sensations so hot and intense that she gasped.
His tongue laved her nipple and she almost collapsed. And even through the pulse-pounding pleasure, Kimberly couldn’t believe that she was standing on a boat in broad daylight, letting a man she barely knew take her breast into his mouth.
She had no idea how long he held her there on the brink of ecstasy. When the sensation rose to exquisite levels, she tried to pull back out of self-preservation, and that’s when he nipped her, his teeth clamping down to keep what he’d won. And she thought she might just explode right there from the pleasure.
But she didn’t. And finally, when he let her go, she had to steady herself by gripping the table to walk the two steps back to her chair. She sank into her chair, shaking the table. All the pieces trembled, mirroring her insides.
“I believe it’s your turn,” Jason spoke politely, but he couldn’t conceal the husky desire in his tone.
If she’d thought concentrating on the game had been difficult before, it was almost impossible now. The damp material of her bra clung to her right breast and the light breeze taunted her even further, a constant reminder—as if she needed one with her entire body trembling.
“Right.” She considered the board. Placed a white stone and then nibbled her bottom lip with concern. She’d made a mistake early on that would cost her another piece of clothing—and another kiss.
All too soon he was beckoning her back between his thighs. Knowing without a doubt that he would remove her bra next only made the anticipation more agonizing.
This time, he took even longer, running his fingers under each shoulder strap, tracking over the swell of her breasts, easing beneath the underwire. She could think of nothing else, except the certainty of wanting to be here with him.
She held her breath until he unfastened the hook, loosening the material. She longed to wriggle free but at the same time had the contradictory urge to raise her hands to cover herself. His eyes, hot enough to light the lace on fire, had her squirming.
When his fingers explored the bared flesh around the half on, half off bra that just barely clung to her breasts, she forced back a melting groan. Kimberly had known desire before, but not like this. She had the powerful urge to scream at him to hurry up. To do something.
But she could barely admit her feeling to herself.
Finally he brushed the bra to the deck, leaving her bare from the waist up to his gaze. “You have beautiful breasts.”
“Thank you.”
“Babe, you are perfectly matched, wonderfully responsive and those two hard peaks are the prettiest set of jewels I’ve ever see.”
She could hear the sincerity in his voice. “I feel—”
“Exposed?” he grinned with pleasure.
“Wicked.”
He lowered his gaze back to her chest. “Do you know how good you look to me?”
“Yes. No.”
“Good enough to eat.”
And with that pronouncement he claimed his next kiss, swooping his mouth down over her left breast.
When she’d still worn her bra, his mouth on her had been wonderfully erotic. Now he was ferocious, nipping with his teeth, swirling her sensitive flesh with his warm tongue. She forgot to hold back a gasp. Forgot not to steady her shaking knees by reaching out and clutching his broad shoulders.
Instinctively, she arched her back, thrusting into his mouth. Her shyness had dropped to the deck along with her bra. Embarrassment disappeared in a haze of white-hot need.
All of her thoughts focused on her blossoming flesh. She barely realized that she was outside, in a strange country with a strange man. She only knew that the Irish air and Jason Parker had combined to give her the most delicate trembling deep in her belly and a dampening of need between her thighs.
“Jason.”
“Umm.”
“You do realize I’ll get even, don’t you?”
“Mmm.”
“You’ll have to sit there and look at my bare breasts.”
“Mmm.”
“I’m going to distract you.”
“Mmm.”
“You’re going to lose.”
“Mmm.”
She said the words to tease him and distract herself from the sizzling sensations pulsing heat straight to her core, but then she realized that this game they were playing—no matter the outcome—would have no losers. Only winners.
7
JASON DIDN’T KNOW which was better, the treat of tasting Kimberly, or the wonder of looking at her. When he finally had forced himself to let her go, it took every atom of control not to swing her into his arms and carry her to the captain’s cabin and the king-size bed below.
But he wanted to give her the opportunity to recover from his sensual assault. He might not have known her long, but he already knew how wary she was of making a quick decision. He didn’t blame her for holding out, considered her reluctance part of her charm—except that playing touch-and-taste games with her had him as edgy as a rookie about to ma
ke a play for home base.
If he hadn’t known better, he would have sworn that his blood boiled and his heart sang. Light-headed, he had difficulty remembering his plan to lose the next few Go rounds. He wanted her to have the opportunity to touch him, to learn where he was sensitive and where he craved her touch.
Concentrating on the game with her sitting opposite him bare-breasted made focusing on the little black and white stones next to impossible. And from the excited fervor in her eyes, she wasn’t doing much better. But he wanted her to take charge, to set the pace, to feel free to explore him—before he seared her right out of her skin.
Not that she was fragile. She wasn’t. But even a man of his experience was wondering right now exactly how turned on he could get without going off. Touching her and tasting her had his cock protesting confinement and made sitting uncomfortable. But he wasn’t about to give up the view—not with Kimberly sitting there so prettily, her breasts wonderfully aroused.
Damn, she looked good, with her pupils all dilated and her mouth pouting as she attempted to concentrate.
He just wished his protective instincts weren’t warring with his need to take her right here, right now. He reminded himself that he didn’t want to overwhelm her with the intensity of his lust. He wanted her thought processes involved too, because he knew it was important to her. He didn’t want to deal with regrets later. He wanted her with him heart, body and soul. That’s why the cooling-off periods their Go playing gave them were critical.
He needed to give her the opportunity to think about not just her body’s reaction to him, but what she really wanted. Why he was so sure he needed to give her this time, he wasn’t sure. But she reminded him of a gorgeous bud about to bloom—and no way would he be responsible for plucking her before she’d fully opened herself.
“Your turn.” She spoke as if she knew he was staring at the board and hadn’t even realized she’d placed another white stone on it.
He grinned at her, deliberately allowing his gaze to sweep from her wide eyes to her stubborn chin to her perky breasts. “You’re distracting me.”
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