by Debra Dixon
He tilted her head and pulled her to him. Jessica knew what was coming, but having been kissed by him before didn’t prepare her for this. Sully’s mouth was hot and sure. He cradled her head with both hands as his tongue swept through the barrier of her lips without the tender forays of the morning.
This kiss was unfinished business. It stripped her of her common sense before his hands ever left her head. She was open to him, and he knew it. Surrender was the only way to describe how she felt. Like she’d given herself up to the wicked pulse that began to throb inside her as the heat of his mouth fanned the flame of an unfamiliar warmth between her legs. Of their own accord, her arms snaked around his neck so she could press the length of her body against him without anything in the way except their clothing.
When Jessie softened, Sully’s arousal jumped in response. Just like this morning there was something about Jessie that got inside him and made him forget the rest of the world, forget his responsibilities. Made him even forget the darkness.
He couldn’t think past the feel of her against him or the need to explore what she offered. Kissing her was like sinking into light. He slid his hand down over her collarbone, over the swell of her breast until her nipple rested in the hollow of his palm. He smiled against her mouth as she pushed into his hand, silently asking for more.
Obliging, Sully trailed his mouth downward, flicking his tongue against the base of her throat as his fingers grated across her pebbled nipple. A ragged sigh rewarded him. Now he was the one who wanted more—more sounds from Jessie. Capturing her mouth again, he cupped her rump with his hands, his fingertips almost beyond the edge of her skirt.
He rolled his hips against hers, settling his hardness against softness. Once. Twice. And then she moaned for him. Just a half sound in the back of her throat, the kind of sound a woman made when desire rocked her unexpectedly.
The denim was soft and pliable in his hands, easily gathered up, but he didn’t gather it. Not yet. Instead he let his hand wander over one gently rounded hip, toward the center of her belly, and then beneath the skirt. Jessie tensed as he pulled the material up. He could feel her backing away by the microsecond.
“Let me,” he whispered against her mouth. “Trust me.”
She caught her breath and held herself still, as if moving would shatter her somehow. She wasn’t the only one ready to shatter. Sully was rock-hard, and the hell of it was they were both fully clothed.
Taking his time, Sully let her adjust to the feel of his hand against her bare skin. He toyed with the edge of her underwear, tucking his index finger inside and rubbing from side to side. All the while keeping her mouth busy. Finally he splayed his hand flat against her abdomen, fingers down, inside her panties.
Crisp curls—he didn’t even know the color, he realized—teased the pads of his fingers. But he didn’t shift downward, didn’t touch her. Not until Jessie raised up on her toes, just a bit, just enough to let him know she wanted him to keep going.
Sully figured that admission of need had cost her a lot. Even so, he held back for a second, letting his mouth find her shoulder, pulling her bra strap and shirt aside as he dropped kisses on the bare skin. When her fingers dug into his shoulders, clutching handfuls of his shirt, he touched her finally.
Her sharp, desperate intake of breath was everything he could have hoped for. The next sharp breath was his own as his finger slid into her. Jessie was hot, and wet, and tight.
Need rolled through him like a train at midnight. He wanted to take her. Just rip her panties away and sink himself to the hilt. No bed, just here. Right now. While she was wet. Before Jessie remembered she didn’t trust him. Before he remembered that he didn’t trust her. Before the world interrupted them.
The phone rang, and Sully cursed. It already was too late. Jessie was surfacing for air. She froze in his arms as the phone rang a second time. Reluctantly he removed his hand, but he made damn sure she felt every second of his retreat, forcing a gasp from her as he flicked the sensitive nub. The blush on her face as she straightened her skirt would have done a virgin proud.
“Been a while, Jessie?” he asked, irritated at her ability to make him feel as though he’d been the villain instead of a partner in crime. And he was fairly certain what they did to each other physically was a crime. No one else had ever been able to make him react so quickly.
Before she could answer, the phone rang a third time.
“Where’s Lincoln?” Sully growled. “Isn’t answering the phone his job?”
“He’s probably outside.” Her voice was shaky, and she refused to look at him. “He checks all the gates, all the windows, and every door.”
“Busy fellow.”
Ring.
“Aren’t you all?” Jessica mumbled as she gave up and went to the phone. She grabbed it on the next ring, afraid it would wake Iris, and relieved to have something to do that didn’t require looking at Sully. She was still shaking from their encounter. Her palms were sweaty, and her lungs needed more oxygen than she could quietly suck in.
“Munro residence.”
She heard silence, not the kind of silence from a dead connection, but the breathy silence of someone waiting on the other end. Her heart thudded heavily against her rib cage as she realized the first move was up to her.
“I’m sorry,” she said into the void, trying to sound as normal as possible, as if she were answering a request for Phil to come to the phone. She was playing a dangerous game, trying to convince whoever was on the line to talk while convincing Sully that it was a routine call. “Phil isn’t here at the moment. I’m Jessica Daniels. I could take a message if it’s important.”
“We have him. Is that important?”
“I see.”
“We’d rather have the book.”
Jessica fought the clenching of her jaw and the urge to turn away from Sully. Instead she rolled her eyes and held the phone a little way from her ear as if she’d been yelled at. “You might try later. I know you’re in a bind but that’s about the only advice I can give you at the moment.”
“Police?”
“Yes, that’s right.” The phone clicked, but Jessica didn’t hang up. Her heart was still in her throat as she said, “You could try his secretary tomorrow. She might have his updated schedule. Uh-huh. Bye, now.”
Slowly she lowered the receiver and met Sully’s gaze. He narrowed his eyes, on the verge of suspicion. She had about three seconds to nip it in the bud. “It was some sort of computer security foul-up at Texacon. The jerk wouldn’t leave a message, and I felt weird saying that Phil’s unaccounted for.”
“That was Texacon?” he queried skeptically, walking toward her. “On Phil’s beach house line?”
Jessica threw up her hands and enacted a drama. “You caught me, Detective. It was really Phil’s kidnappers. They’re going to call me back tonight as soon as I get rid of you and I can talk. Of course that could get sticky unless I get to the phone before Lincoln.” She put her hands on her hips as she finished and nailed him with a glare intended to make him sorry he ever doubted her. “Who the hell do you think it was?”
“When you put it like that, I guess it was Texacon.”
“Smart guess.”
Relief flooded through her as the outrageous confession soothed Sully’s misgivings; his frown eased and his brow unfurrowed. One hurdle passed. Now all she had to do was get rid of him.
That wasn’t going to be easy, not without triggering his suspicions all over again. She didn’t need him involved. He couldn’t help anyway; he didn’t know where the book was. And he couldn’t possibly know these people the way she did. She didn’t want to think about what they might have already done to Phil.
No, she had to handle it her way. All Sully could do was make her regret her choices and want what she couldn’t have.
At the moment that wasn’t a hard feat to pull off. Not when he stood there with starburst wrinkles in the material of his shirt, wrinkles she’d put there by grabbing hold of him
to steady herself. The last few seconds in his arms blazed through her mind, crowding out rational thought. Even now she could feel his hands on her, stroking, entering her. The horrible reality was that spending time with Sullivan Kincaid was dangerous, and she wanted more anyway. She wanted what would have happened if the phone hadn’t rung.
Right man, wrong place. Wrong time. Wrong world. Jessica Daniels had killed people; Sullivan Kincaid was a cop. That was a match made in hell. A chasm much too wide to cross. At least in this lifetime.
Sully watched the regret seep into Jessie’s expression. Second thoughts were a nasty way to spend time, and she was having a few. Maybe more than a few considering what happened between them. His only regret was that the phone rang too soon.
“Say it,” he ordered.
“Say what?”
“How we’ve just made another mistake.”
“Surely you could figure that out for yourself?”
“I’m funny that way. I like things spelled out.”
“It was a mistake. G-O A-W-A-Y.”
“No such luck. At least not until we settle a few things.”
“Everything’s settled. The Houston police are looking for Phil. Iris is safe and sound in her bed. Texacon is going to make Carol’s life miserable instead of mine. Lincoln is here to protect us. What else is there to settle?”
“Why you fall apart in my arms, and how I could get used to it with very little encouragement.”
“It’s your imagination.”
“Not this time.”
“Nothing happened. We kissed. I—we got a little carried away. Subject closed.”
“Yeah, you already told me how you get a little carried away sometimes. If that’s how you react to a kiss, then lead me to the bedroom, darlin’, ’cause I can’t wait to see what happens during foreplay.”
“That’s not ever going to happen.”
“Sounds like a promise.”
“It is.”
“Are you sure you can keep this one?”
Jessica wondered how he did it. How he found the secret buttons and pushed them. She wasn’t certain at all, but she’d never admit it. “Go away, Sully.”
“I will. Just as soon as you tell me what you and the CIA are looking for. And why it’s so important that you find it.”
NINE
Jessica ground the heels of her hands into her temples and then raked her fingers through her hair. For the first time Sully noticed the shadows beneath her eyes. She really hadn’t slept the night before, and he found himself curbing the temptation to pull her toward him and lay her head on his chest.
The impulse blew him away. Over the years he’d been involved with a number of women, but he could honestly say that comfort had never been a part of the package. I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you, Jessie girl, and yet I worry about you. Ain’t that a helluva note.
With a resigned sigh, she began to talk. “I think it was the CIA who searched here. I can’t swear to it, but it’s a reasonable assumption if Iris called them from Phil’s phone. They’d be anxious.”
“About what?”
“Phil’s little black book of personnel.”
“His team of spies? Wouldn’t they already have that information?”
“No.” Jessica rubbed her temples again, this time with her fingers. “No one but Phil has it. He swore to me that he kept our names in a little black book that was as safe as Fort Knox. Other than that there weren’t supposed to be files on us. Nothing to tie us to Phil. Nothing to tie us to the government. The name of the game was deniability. We all knew that going in. The payments were even transferred from one Swiss bank account to another.”
“So how did Iris find you?”
“She went by the Houston office last week to say good-bye to her dad before coming down here. That’s where she saw the file with my name and phone number. The folder was lying open on his desk.”
“Well, wasn’t that convenient.”
Glaring at him, she continued, “It makes a weird kind of sense. He was always trying to get me back for one more job. If he lied to me about having files, then she could have seen mine on his desk. My number’s an easy one to remember. The last four digits are all the same.”
“Okay, I’ll buy it.”
Jessica gritted her teeth. “I wasn’t selling anything.” She turned and walked out into the entertainment room. “Lock up on your way out, Detective.”
“Why bother?” he called. “The only one this lock seems to keep out is Iris.”
In spite of herself, Jessica felt the tug at the corners of her mouth. He had a point. Nevertheless she heard the click of the lock as he pushed it in and the thud of the solid wood doors as he closed them.
For good measure, Sully rattled the doorknobs and then followed her. He could have lengthened his stride and caught her, but he decided he liked the view. With legs like that, the lady was made for sin. There was something incredibly sexy about her walk and the soft, intimate sound of bare feet on wood flooring. Even from behind he could tell that Jessie had her arms wrapped around her stomach—as if she was holding herself together.
Holding her temper together was more like it, he decided. He admired a woman who didn’t fall to pieces. He imagined it would take a lot to shake Jessie. Kisses seemed to do the trick, but not much else so far.
“I understand why the CIA is looking for that book, but why are you looking so hard for it?” he asked her very straight back. She didn’t break stride, but he saw her fingers curl into fists.
“That’s pretty obvious. National security and all that. I’m as patriotic as the next person.”
“A desperate patriot maybe. You skipped the file cabinets completely tonight, but you looked under the rug, behind the pictures on the wall, at the bottom of his desk drawers. You even looked in the trash can, darlin’. You were desperately hoping they left it behind.”
“Who the hell are you? Columbo?” Jessica whirled on him—arms akimbo—at the opening into the foyer, trapping him in the hallway. “Can’t you ever follow any kind of questioning pattern? If you want to know something, just ask me instead of ambushing me over and over. I’m tired of the games. So why don’t you ask all of your questions—questions that you’re not even supposed to be asking because you aren’t on the case—and then get out.”
Sully kept right on walking toward her as she talked. It was a pedestrian version of chicken. To her credit she didn’t move until he put his hands on her shoulders and moved her.
“Is there a problem?” Lincoln asked from a little above them as he came slowly down the stairs.
“The detective was just leaving,” Jessica said as Sully dropped his hands.
“I’ll walk him out.”
“No,” she corrected Lincoln firmly. “I’ll do it.”
“You sure? I’d be happy to help.”
Surprised to find that Lincoln wasn’t overly fond of Sully either, Jessica nodded. For one thing she wanted her gun back, and for another she wanted the questions over with. “Yeah. I’m sure. I’ll do it.”
“Well, if we’re all through banding together against the policeman,” Sully commented sarcastically, “why don’t you show me out, Jessie?”
No one said a word as they crossed the marble foyer and slipped out the door. The contrast of the cool polished stone and the rough brick paving beneath her feet reminded her of dealing with Sully. Things went along so smoothly and then hit a rough patch.
This was probably going to be another rough patch.
Sully didn’t move toward his car. His hands were in his front pockets as he gazed out over the lawn. “How much does Lincoln know?”
“Nothing but what Iris told him. I’m a friend of the family he hadn’t had the opportunity to meet. The way she treats me pretty much supports that story. Next question.”
“I saw your face when you realized the suits had beat you to Phil’s company office. Why the fear? You work for them. So what if your name’s in the book?”
Jessica took a long time to answer. This question was simply another method of figuring out why she wanted the book so badly. He’d just keep asking it, a hundred different ways until he tripped her up, so she cut the misery short.
“I want the book, because I’m retired, and I’d rather not be reactivated. If they don’t have the book, they can’t ask.”
He turned finally and looked at her. “Just say no.”
“You ever tried saying no to the government?”
“Can’t say that I have.”
First Jessica swirled her hair into a knot and let it hang down her back, out of her way. Then she took a deep breath. “They’re really good at making it impossible to say no. I don’t want them to have another shot at me. You understand? I walked away once already.”
“And no one’s ever done that?”
“From Phil’s team?” She laughed bitterly. “No. I imagine the powers-that-be had stress heart attacks when he told them an operative took a hike. That’s one of the reasons I’m here now. I owe him enough to help his little girl.”
Jessica walked onto the lawn, her feet sinking into the thick, supple grass that would have cost a fortune to keep green in the Texas heat if not for the Gulf rains. She wiggled her toes and wished she had pockets in her skirt. She wanted someplace to put her hands because she was afraid they might shake. Afraid if Sully got too close, she might reach for him.
“Why’d he let you go?” Sully asked. He didn’t follow her onto the lawn, instead he stood back and let her have some space. When she faced him, her eyes were shiny. Too shiny.
“Let it drop, Sully. It doesn’t have anything to do with his disappearance. I promise, okay? Next question.”
“You want the book. They want the book. Who else wants it?”
“I imagine anyone who knows Phil is missing. Whoever finds the book or the files will control the team. Our codes are in the book. Take your pick. Any job. Anywhere. Anytime. Most of them don’t care what they do as long as you have the code.”
“Codes? Are you serious?”
“As death and taxes,” she told him flatly. “That’s how it works. You get a phone call. Phil gives you the code. You get a package of information. You do the job. You call him afterward, give him the code and the status. I don’t imagine anyone would kick if it wasn’t Phil’s voice. Not if the voice had the code. Next question.”