by Julie Miller
She’d never seen him dressed in anything but a suit and tie, which he filled to classic proportions. But there was something almost untamed about a barefoot man prowling around her bed in nothing but a pair of faded jeans with a Glock 9mm tucked into the back of the waistband.
Even his hair was loose and falling around his shoulders as he picked up a bloodstained sliver of glass and dropped it into a brown paper bag. Sexy as he was, she almost wished he’d pull those long mahogany locks back or cut them short so she could get a clear look at his chiseled features and remarkable blue eyes.
Of course, she could look all she wanted. That didn’t necessarily mean he’d be looking back. There was something about being a skinny redhead with too much attitude that kept men from seeing her as any kind of long-term option. There were bigger boobs and safer careers and less-headstrong mates out there to be had.
“That’s it, then.”
When Cole spun around, she dropped the ice pack into her lap, startled to think he might have caught her staring at him with some sort of wistful look in her eyes.
“You can deliver this tomorrow when you meet with A.J.”
Deliver? Tori snapped out of her self-conscious haze and pressed a finger to her mouth, shushing him. She pointed to the floor. The lamp might be in pieces, but the listening device was still intact, indicating anyone could be eavesdropping at any time.
Cole tipped his head back. His reaction was half curse, half sigh. At two in the morning, a man could be expected to be a little short-tempered. But the moment passed. He dropped his chin and looked at her again.
“That settles it.”
“Settles what?” Tori rose to meet him as he crossed the room.
He snatched her by her wrist and dragged her toward her bedroom door. “You’re sleeping with me.”
Automatically rebelling against anyone making decisions for her, she planted her feet and twisted free. “Neanderthals became extinct centuries ago.”
“Don’t argue with me.” He took her hand again, more gently this time, and backed toward the door. “It’s the safest room in the house.”
Right. No cameras, no bugs. But Cole would be there, and the whole sleeping with idea had her rattled. She was following him out the door, but said, “I’m not sure this is a good idea.”
He stopped, his expression as patient as she’d ever seen it. “Look. Do you want to stay in a room with a broken armoire door, sleeping with one eye open because that bastard might come back and finish what he started? Or do you prefer a room with no secret entrances and no way for anyone to spy on you, so you can actually close your eyes and get a few hours of sleep?”
Sleep. He really was just talking about sleep. Tori tried to hide how deflated she suddenly felt. Probably it was the chilly air against her bare arms and legs. But his argument was logical and she was beat. “I guess I am a little tired.”
He led her quickly down the hall past all the other bedrooms, pushed open the door to his room and pulled her inside. He released her to lock the door and stow his gun and sack on the bedside table, giving her a few moments to note the four-poster bed and masculine navy-and-cream decor. She supposed the love seat in front of the window would be her spot to curl up in for a few hours, so she headed for it.
But she hadn’t taken half a step when Cole blocked her path, backed her up against the door, wrapped his hand around the nape of her neck. “What?” she said. And kissed her.
Desperately. Thoroughly. His hips drove into hers, his hands cradled her head. His lips devoured hers, his tongue thrust in and claimed her own. The energy in her reignited by his passionate touch, she reached up to frame his jaw, comb her fingers through his hair, open herself to his demands. He worshipped, apologized. Pulled away with a forcible gasp and left her hungry for more.
He touched his forehead to hers, and her downcast eyes watched the ragged expansion and contraction of his chest as he struggled to regain control.
Tori let her hands slide down to a debatably neutral position against the mat of dark hair that curled across his pecs, and fought to regain some control herself. “I suppose you just needed to do that, too?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “I did.”
He jerked his hips back first, as if just now realizing what she had—that a few thin layers of cotton and denim couldn’t hide the fact that he was nearly as aroused as she.
But his hands and forehead still encircled her face. “You’re not badly hurt, then?”
She lifted her gaze so he could read the reassurance there. “A couple of bruises. The aspirin helped.”
“Good.” He kissed her forehead and pulled away.
Her overheated body rapidly chilled as the damp, cool air swept in between them. He ran his fingers through his hair and tossed the length of it behind his back. “I promised you sleep.” He crossed the room and retrieved his gun, stashing it behind his waist. “I have a couple of things to check out to secure the place. Go ahead and make yourself at home in the bed. I’ll take the couch. I’ll try not to wake you when I come back in.”
“It’s a love seat, not a couch. You’re too big for it. I’ll take it.”
His shoulders heaved with an impatient breath. “Whatever you call it, you’ve got goose bumps I can see from here. Get under the covers.”
He was making a quick, polite exit. She should take the hint. Tori lifted her chin and opened the door for him. “Be safe.”
He paused and looked down at her, wanting to say something more. But all she got was “Lock the door.”
FORTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER, Cole was pacing the carpet outside his door, wondering how the hell he was going to actually get any sleep while Tori was in there. He had no regrets about insisting she stay in his room. He’d found truck tire tracks outside the cellar door. And his computer log showed the gate alarms had been deactivated and turned back on after he’d sent everyone to their rooms.
She was right. Someone else had been in the house.
And the thought of that someone hitting her, the imprint of a man’s hand around her throat… Cole stopped his pacing and let every muscle in his body tense as the fury worked through him.
When the anger had passed and the need to protect was all that remained, he expelled a cleansing breath. Her attacker’s accomplice was someone in this house. He had to do this. He had to go in there, keep his emotions in check, his rod in his pants and hope to hell she was tucked in up to her chin and sound asleep so he could keep watch over her.
There was only so much temptation a man could take.
It just wasn’t fair that he had to be a gentleman when he could see all that creamy skin exposed by the skimpy top and short shorts she was wearing. He’d sworn to keep her safe. But it’d be a lot easier if he didn’t have that smart mouth or those pert little breasts to distract him.
His will resolved, Cole picked up the package he’d stolen and went inside.
“Damn.”
All he could do was stare and silently curse the urges that betrayed his best intentions. She was in bed, all right. Wide-awake, sitting cross-legged on top of the covers, thumbing through a magazine. She closed it and set it aside while he locked the door.
“What’s that?” she asked.
She was referring to the package, of course. He set it on the chair beside the door. “A couple of Jericho’s cigars and a sample of everything I could find in his medicine cabinet.”
“I’ll take them to A.J. when I see him tomorrow.”
At least she’d had the decency to cover up. Sort of. “I see you helped yourself to one of my shirts.”
She wore it like a mini-dress, the sexiest kind possible, one that didn’t do a thing to hide all ninety miles of those long, powerful legs. She had it buttoned up the front with the sleeves rolled to her wrists. Her cheeks flooded with color. It didn’t take much for him to trigger a response in this woman. Or her in him.
“Sorry. I was cold. I couldn’t find a robe and I didn’t want to go back to my room. And I s
till think you’re too big to sleep on the couch.”
“You just like to be difficult, don’t you,” he challenged.
Her green eyes sparkled. “It makes logical sense. I’m tall, but you’re taller. You should have the bigger bed.”
Seeing her wearing something of his sparked a little possessive streak that was his undoing. Or maybe it was the argument he refused to lose. Because logic didn’t have a damn thing to do with his next impulse. He strode toward the bed.
“Move over.”
She rolled her eyes and swung her legs out over the side, sticking her hands up in surrender as he approached. “I’m moving.”
“Not that far.”
He grabbed her around the waist as she stood and pulled her down onto the bed with him, rolling over and pinning her with his body.
“Cole!”
She shoved at his chest and he let her have a little room. He pushed up on his elbows and slid to her side, keeping one leg draped over both of hers and his arm firmly cinched around her waist. “This bed’s big enough for both of us,” he announced.
“But—”
“No but’s.” He reached behind him and removed his gun, secretly loving how her protesting hands stayed wedged against his chest as he moved across her to lay the Glock on the nightstand. “I’m done arguing with you, woman.”
“I wasn’t arguing.”
“Sure you were. It’s what you do to keep me at arm’s length.” He settled back in beside her, propping his head up on his hand so he could look down and read every nuance in that beautiful face. “But not tonight.”
“Cole.” She shoved in earnest now and twisted beneath him.
But it only took the gentle stroke of his fingers across her forehead and a few soft words to calm her. “I want you to stay with me. If I can hold you in my arms, I’ll know where you are and I can keep you safe.”
Her eyes darted back and forth, studying his. Her fingers started that unconscious kneading against his chest. She swallowed hard, and he watched the elegant movement of muscle down the length of her throat.
“To sleep, right?”
He reached up, caught her fingers in his and stilled them. “Maybe later.”
“Cole—” She was moving again.
He tightened his grip and held her in place. “Do you honestly not get the chemistry between us?”
“I get it. It’s just that I’m afraid of it.”
He propped himself up higher, wanting to get a good look at the stark honesty in her eyes. “I never thought I’d hear you admit to being afraid of anything.” He touched the tip of his finger to the tiny line between her brows and felt the tension there. He traced his finger along the auburn curves until he felt her relax. “Does this have anything to do with Ian Davies?”
Everything in her tensed again. “You were listening?”
“By the tone of your voice, I take it that chanting his name is some kind of curse?”
She pressed her head back into the pillow, breaking eye contact. She pulled her hands away from him and clutched one over her stomach. The other plopped to the bed beside her and nervously drummed against the quilt. Cole wished he could take back the question.
But he’d underestimated Tori’s courage. She took a steadying breath and looked back into his eyes.
“Ian and I worked together on an undercover assignment. Posing as a couple. Somewhere along the line I blew the cardinal rule and it became real for me.” Cole reached for the hand at her side and laced his fingers with hers, silently urging her on. “Ian sold us out. He was just using me. I’m not, you know, real whippy when it comes to handling men, anyway. My mother always says I scare them off.”
“Because of your temper?”
She swatted at his chest and he took that playful gesture as a good sign, easing his guilt a fraction.
“Because of my money. My name. My badge. Men don’t like women who can kick their ass.”
He, apparently, was the exception. “Do you think your strength and smarts make you less of a woman?”
Her fingers tightened around his. “Look at me, Cole. My hair’s too red, my skin’s too pale. My boobs are nonexistent.”
Beautiful hair, beautiful skin. And the nonexistent items perked to attention beneath his scrutiny.
Tori touched his chin and brought his gaze back to hers. “My mother’s always giving me pointers on how to improve myself. Ian basically told me the same thing, that I lacked a few, you know, feminine skills. I can’t do my job and have a relationship.”
She stroked his jaw, abrading her fingertips against the stubble of his beard, petting him, soothing him until the gut-deep need to punch a certain guy passed and he could give a rational response. “Did you kick Ian’s butt?”
“I set him up to be arrested, if that’s what you mean. He was killed when he tried to escape the sting we’d set up.”
He grinned and turned his head to press a congratulatory kiss into her palm. “That’ll do.”
Her hand stayed against his cheek and he savored her touch. “You really are a nice guy, Cole.”
“Nice?” He groaned and let his head fall forward, sending his hair cascading down into her face.
She gathered up the long strands, tucked them behind his ears and held them in place. “You’re an annoying pain in the butt because you won’t let me do my job, but…” She was holding him harder now, clinging to him, demanding something of him. “I am attracted to you. And I have feelings for you. But I don’t want to get the job mixed up with what’s real. I don’t want to get hurt again. I don’t want to think there’s a relationship when there’s not.” She shook her head and her hands slid to his shoulders. “And I don’t trust that I’ll know the difference.”
Cole didn’t know what to say to her honest confession. He wasn’t the kind of man who could make guarantees. All he knew was the humbling touch of her hands and the aching coolness of her body and the peace he felt being with her like this. She didn’t believe in permanence and he didn’t believe in promises.
But he believed in her. He believed in this.
“Forget relationships. Just think about tonight. Think about now. Think about how crazy the world is outside that door.” When she turned to look, he cupped her face and pulled it back to him, rubbing his thumb along her chin, pressing it to the fullness of her mouth. His pulse throbbed when her lips parted and her warm breath caressed his skin. “Holding you, kissing you, is the most real thing I’ve known in two long years. I don’t know what to tell you about tomorrow.” Her fingertips dug into his skin as she held her breath. “I just need now. Stay with me.”
“You need me?”
Her eyes searched his and he hoped she found what she was looking for.
“Really?”
He died and went to heaven with the gift she’d just handed him. “Really.”
Her arms slid around his neck and, with the slightest of tugs, Cole obliged and bent his head to claim her lips.
He’d intended to be gentle, but like always, the chemistry between them ignited. When her tongue found his, something inside him caught fire. With the explosive jolt of a starter’s pistol, Cole angled his body over hers and joined the race to complete the sweetest seduction of his life.
Tori tangled her fingers in his hair and urged him to kiss her this way, then she begged him to kiss her like that. He obeyed every persuasive demand and made a few of his own.
“Cole.” Her voice was a breathless whisper that danced against his skin. He skimmed his hand down to the curve of her hip and squeezed the taut muscle there. She kissed his chin, his jaw. “Cole.” He spread his thighs wider and dragged her firmly between them, closing his eyes against the luscious meeting of heat against heat. She nibbled on his ear, rubbed her cheek against his and gasped. She rubbed it again.
The lady liked that, huh?
“I don’t know how… What do you want me to do?” she asked breathlessly.
“Whatever feels right.” He swept his fingers int
o the silk of her hair and guided her mouth back to his.
The second lap intensified and gathered speed. While he delighted in the needy exploration of her hands across his shoulders, arms, back, neck, chest, he unbuttoned the shirt that she wore and slid his hand inside.
He groaned in frustration when he encountered the second layer of her cotton knit top. “I want to feel your skin,” he rasped against her neck, dipping his lips to taste the creamy smoothness there.
What felt right to Tori felt very, very right for him when she moved into the lead. With a little coaxing and a little athletic strength, she pushed him off her and sat up. He rolled onto his back and reached for her hips as she followed him over and straddled him.
He eagerly helped her lose the shirt and tagged along with her hands as she pulled the tank top up and off over her head. Her back arched as she shook her hair loose, and Cole nearly lost it right there.
But he caught only a glimpse of those perfect porcelain mounds and their pale straining tips before she crossed her arms in front of her and her gaze dropped to a self-conscious point near his chin.
“I don’t know,” she whispered, her voice itself a heady stroke against his senses. “Maybe I shouldn’t have done that.”
Cole sat up and dropped her into his lap. He looked straight into those darkening green eyes and thanked her. “You absolutely should have.”
He kissed her then, deeply, fully, telling her with everything in him how much he desired her. Her back was an endless expanse of velvet skin and sleek muscle, and he touched every part of it he could reach.
When she finally relaxed and wound her arms around his neck, he let her pull herself as close as she wanted. They were skin to skin, muscle to muscle. He skimmed her ribs and flicked his thumbs into the tight space between them, catching the tips of her breasts. Tori gasped. Her fingers dug into his shoulders and he teased her again. She buried her mouth against his neck and called his name again and again—and it wasn’t any curse.
“Let me,” he urged. Needing something more, needing to give her more. “Trust me.”