Nate rose to his feet in one graceful almost balletic movement. “Seduce you? You think I make love in French to seduce you? I really am starting to believe that you’re crazier than hell...” His words trailed off as he shook his head with the force usually reserved for erasing an Etch-a-Sketch, then he exhaled slowly through his nose. “French is my native tongue. I make love to you in French because I lose my fucking mind when I’m with you and can’t think straight, let alone speak in another language.”
She took a deep breath taken aback by his words. “Oh.”
“When I want to seduce a woman I do it in Italian, not French. But if it bothers you I’ll try not to speak at all next time.”
“It doesn’t bother me,” she said with a shrug, then her breath caught as she realized what she’d agreed to. “Not that there will be a next time.”
He approached her slowly. “Oh there will be a next time,” he said softly.
“You arrogant asshole.”
“Guilty as charged, but this has nothing to do with arrogance,” he said with a very Gallic shrug. “This thing between us isn’t over, Onion. I don’t think it ever will be.”
Tonya took a deep breath, trying to find the words to refute what he’d just said, but there were none. So, for only the second time she could remember, she turned tail and ran for her life, if not her soul.
On the other side of the door, Tonya paced furiously, wrestling with a decision. Despite her rage, she couldn’t deny the way her body cried out for his. Apparently the bitch below had no dignity or self-respect. Just thinking about being near him again left her wet and aching for his touch, but she’d never been so angry in her life. The very idea that he thought he could just say those words to her left her breathless with rage. Words he didn’t mean; had never meant. She’d fallen for that once, but no way in hell was she going there again. Never one to sugarcoat things she had to face facts; no matter how pissed off she was at the moment, and she was pretty pissed, she still wanted him. Wanted him bad. So now came the burning question; could she have sex with him without catching feelings again?
Only God knew what he was involved in and the last thing she needed was more drama. She wasn’t stupid enough to trust him, but still she wanted him. Did she really have to trust him to have sex with him? And could she detach herself enough to go through with it? Convinced that she could, she turned to walk back through the door, but hesitated. Was this her clit talking or her brain? She sighed heavily as she conceded that she probably wasn’t listening to her brain. That was bound to get her into trouble, but she wanted this badly enough to take that chance. She wasn’t stupid; the man would be leaving soon anyway. If not to go after this bad guy he’d eventually have other assignments. She had no place in his life and wasn’t sure she’d want to be in it even if she could be. But how badly would she be hurt and could she afford to go through it all over again? She moved away from the door and walked over to flop facedown on the full-size bed that dominated the room. Damnit, she was right back at the original question and still her body all but wept for his.
Chapter Seven
Nate stood watching as the door closed behind her. His first thought was to follow, but he immediately checked the impulse. All that would do was get him a kick to the groin or his throat ripped out. He heaved a sigh. There was nothing else for it; he either needed a long swim or yet another cold shower. He looked out the window where the rain was still coming down steadily. It would have to be a shower. But he hesitated, taking a seat on the sofa instead. He ejected the movie that had put both of them to sleep and turned on a soccer game instead. World Cup qualifying matches were a welcome distraction, but before he could get too engrossed the door opened and she stood there her long sensuous body framed in the doorway. He looked up at her but before he could ask the question she answered him.
“I want to have sex.”
“Thank God,” Nate said suddenly realizing this was what he’d been waiting for. Tonya had never been the coy type. He loved the way she was so open and frank about her needs. He rose to his feet but before he could move toward her she raised a hand.
“No I love yous or any other kind of promises implied or otherwise.”
“Tonya.”
“What?”
“Stop talking. I’ll tell you I love you if I want to. You don’t have to listen, but I will tell you,” he said taking her into his arms. “I know there are things we need to talk about, but right now all I want to do is feel. I’ve wanted this for so long. Please just let me have this.”
Tonya relaxed against him with a sigh and he almost collapsed in relief. She was his again, at least for the night. Okay, Randolph, slow down. You’ve got all night. Placing a hand on either side of her face he raised it up then leaned down to kiss her once and then again. Each kiss was more amazing than the last and this one turned him inside out. With a groan he pulled her closer, knowing that it would never be enough. The burning need to possess her, to become a part of her never left him and now it was driving him to the point of insanity. He had to have her now or lose his mind.
He picked her up and headed to his bedroom with her cradled against his chest. Too strung out to even speak, he simply tossed her down and followed her onto the soft mattress. Fortunately for him she was apparently as far gone as he was because she immediately wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him closer. She pulled his shirt up from the waist and her nails bit into his back. Each little pinprick of pain sent shards of exquisite pleasure to his groin. Suddenly she stopped. He looked down to see her examining a bullet scar that veered off from his left nipple. She stared at it for a long time then looked down at a similar scar lower on his torso. She closed her eyes and he watched as her lips moved, then she leaned forward and kissed the upper scar.
He shivered in response to the intensity of the moment, then leaned down to kiss her again. She didn’t return the kiss for a few seconds and he thought he’d lost her. His heart surged in his chest when he finally felt her lips moving under his. Thank God. After shoving her top up he grabbed her delicate breasts in both hands, squeezing her tiny sable brown nipples gently before following the caress with his mouth. He started out with light touches of his tongue against her turgid flesh, but when he sucked strongly she cried out arching against him begging and pleading for more.
He slipped a hand up the leg of her shorts, seeking the slippery flesh he’d dreamed about for years. She was wet, her silky juices coating his hand. He leaned back just far enough to unfasten the shorts and slip them and her panties off her hips. Her legs fell apart almost immediately and he spread them farther as he sought her clitoris with his fingers. He stroked it softly but with escalating pressure as she responded with increasingly frantic movements of her legs and hips. Then she grabbed his hand.
“Not without you,” she said. He almost came in his pants. Without a word he stood and shucked his shorts and underwear in one motion. He opened his nightstand drawer and removed the condom. Fumbling a bit in his hurry, he swore as he struggled to open the contrary packet. He eventually got it open and had an easier time smoothing the slippery latex over his erection. Then he was back on the bed with her. Without preamble, he spread her legs even wider and thrust his cock inside her as deeply as he could in one motion. She cried out and he hesitated fearing that he’d hurt her, but she was moving under him, urging him on.
With increasing urgency, he slid into her silken depths again and again, not wanting the ecstasy to end but knowing he would die if it didn’t. He wanted to take his time to luxuriate in the glory of his return to her. The countless endless nights when he thought he’d lose his mind because he ached for her so badly. All those years, all those long agonizing years without her. The searing emptiness of his life melted away as he feasted on the silk of her skin, the curves of her body beckoning him go deeper and deeper. Her aroma urging him on to bury himself, never to be separated from her again.
Her velvet touch drew him into a level of arousal that left him
mindless to anything but surging into her again and again. Now all he could do was feel the feathery sensations along his spine as his orgasm came closer, just out of reach. More. More. Closer and closer he drew to the ultimate fulfillment and the woman beneath him was all he’d ever dreamed about. All he’d ever wanted. The feel and sound of her crying out beneath him...The tight wet grip of her around his cock...There was nothing else. Only her. Only this. Forever. That thought set off the orgasm blossoming from the base of his spine. For a moment he feared he’d failed her but she cried out as she was caught up in the same red well of pleasure. She screamed again as he released his seed in helpless surrender. He hovered over her, shuddering and shaking in the throes of his orgasm. When his arms wouldn’t support him any longer, he pulled out of her and collapsed next to her on the bed. They lay there side by side on the rumpled white sheets, perspiration glistening on their exhausted limbs. Nate was pretty sure he’d never be able to move or even think again, so when Tonya spoke it took him more than a few seconds to process what she said.
“Have there been very many?” she asked, gasping for air.
Nate lay beside her, still struggling to catch his breath. “Very many what?” he finally asked, having absolutely no idea what she was talking about.
“Women. You said earlier that when you want to seduce a woman you speak Italian.”
“I did?” he asked, wondering just where the hell his brain was when he said that. Leave it to his Onion to bring up the one topic he definitely didn’t want to discuss. Diversion was definitely the order of the day, but damned if he could get his brain in gear to think of one. “You want to talk about this -- Now?”
“No. No. You’re right,” she said and Nate heaved a sigh of relief. They lay in silence for a long moment before she spoke again. “But have there been a lot? I mean, you’ve been watching me so you know my track record.”
Nate gritted his teeth before responding. “Don’t remind me.”
“It hasn’t exactly been a revolving door,” she said.
“You don’t get it. As far as I’m concerned, even one is too many if that one isn’t me.”
“Well don’t you think I feel the same way?”
“Do you?” he said.
“Yes. No. Oh God, I don’t know. Just forget I asked.”
Nate felt a funny little leap in his heart. At least she wasn’t indifferent. Time to throw her a bone. “Okay. And no, there haven’t been that many. My Italian’s a bit rusty.”
Tonya smiled and snuggled up against him. “Glad to hear it. Make sure you keep it that way.”
Nate smiled as he pulled her even closer. That wouldn’t be a problem at all.
Tonya lay sprawled on her back, looking up at Nate who was tracing his hands over her in slow movements that were almost reverent. She’d dozed for a while after they made love, only to awaken to find him staring at her while she slept. His touch wasn’t sexual, there was a warmth and tenderness there that made her heart ache and brought a hot flood of tears to her eyes. He ran a fingertip over her softly rounded belly but paused when he reached the thin silvery scar that followed her bikini line.
“Looks like you’ve got some life stripes of your own,” he said in a soft rasp. “What happened?”
“Mine weren’t made by a bullet. I’m surprised you don’t already know. A couple years ago I had surgery to have some fibroids removed.”
He frowned. “What the hell are fibroids?”
“They’re tumors,” she continued as he opened his mouth to speak, “Benign tumors.” She answered the question everyone asked. “I had a bunch of them in my uterus.”
“Are you okay?” he looked down at her a deep frown darkening his countenance as he cupped her belly.
“Better than I was with them, that’s for damned sure.” She shrugged. “They might come back, and they hurt like hell, and I might not be able to have kids,” she said amazed at her ability to keep her feelings at bay.
He leaned down and pressed a kiss on her forehead. “I’m sorry. I know you’ve always wanted children.”
“It’s not guaranteed. I won’t know until I try. Besides, it’s not like anyone is lined up volunteering to help me make babies anyway, right?”
Dark color rushed under his skin, but he didn’t respond, just gave her another kiss, this time on the lips, and it wasn’t at all reverent. Her senses flamed in immediate response and it was a long time before she thought about anything other than the way he could make her feel.
* * * * *
The crystalline water sparkled in shades ranging from aquamarine to deep green tourmaline. It had been several days since they’d resumed their relationship and they spent most of their time loving and frolicking on the beach. Tonya perched on a rock in their cove as Nate demonstrated the best technique for spear fishing. He was standing knee-deep in the water the muscles of his arms flexing as he skewered another quicksilver piscean. She slipped off the rock into the water and waded over to join him, her spear grasped tightly in her right hand. He had told her over and over again that the most important part of the art was patience and more patience. Not exactly her strong suit, but she was determined to master it.
She stood silently as he speared another fish, tossing it into their creel to protect it from marauding sea birds. Then it was her turn. He stood there silently as she found a shallow pool with several fish nibbling on seaweed. Tamping down her impulse to immediately spear one, she took a deep breath and another focusing almost meditatively on the fish’s movement. It happened just as he’d said it would, her movements became reflexive and the next thing she knew there was a fish on the end of her spear. She looked down at the wiggling body for a long moment, almost disbelieving what she saw. She’d done it! She’d speared a fish. Then...
“Oh my God, I killed it,” she whispered.
Nate waded over with a big grin. “You certainly did,” he said. “That’ll make a fine supper for us tonight.”
“I didn’t mean to kill it.”
“What do you mean you didn’t mean to kill it? You’ve been nagging me to teach you how for weeks.”
Tonya shrugged aware that she wasn’t making any sense. “I mean, I wanted to spear fish, but I didn’t want to kill anything.”
“That’s the most illogical thing I’ve ever heard. Fish are surprisingly resilient, but a spear through the belly pretty much gets them every time.”
“I know that. I really wanted to learn how to do it, I just never thought about the end result.”
“You’ve been eating the end result now for a couple of weeks,” he said.
“Oh just leave me alone,” she said, flinging her spear at him.
He deflected the missile easily, knocking it into the water, but the fish flew through the air in a perfect arc before it collided with the side of his face with a loud splat. Almost in slow motion it slid down leaving a trail of water and fish slime along his cheek as it descended.
Tonya watched mesmerized by the scene before her, then almost collapsed as she shook with laughter at the look of comic disbelief on his face. Each time she tried to regain her composure she thought about his stunned expression and crumpled into giggles again.
“So you don’t want to kill a fish, but you don’t have any problem with trying to kill me?” he said. Raising his own spear menacingly he began stalking toward her. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw death in his eyes. Squealing she turned and ran out of the water with him fast on her heels.
Running on sand wasn’t exactly easy and even though she was an experienced runner she had a hard time getting away from him. The fact that she was repeatedly assaulted by fits of giggles didn’t help her forward progress. Every time she thought about that fish smacking him upside the head she nearly lost it. They ran around the house twice, but each time she approached a door she realized he was too close for her to make a clean entrance without being trapped. Somehow she found herself cornered behind the house in the outdoor shower.
“Pe
rfect,” he said in a menacing tone. “Nothing like cleaning my prey before killing it.” And with that he turned on the taps. Tonya squealed again as the cold water poured over her. He followed her into the shower. “Of course, I can think of a lot better things to do with you than killing you, though eating you definitely sounds like a good starter.”
Tonya shivered in response to the heated look in his eyes, and when he pressed her against the back wall of the shower she cried out at the delicious feel of his body pressed against hers. The contrast between his heated body and the cold water set her nerves on fire and she moaned against his neck before she took a delicious bite. He returned to her mouth kissing and sucking desperately as he quickly disposed of her bikini bottom. It took him no time at all to release his erection and then he thrust into her. He held her legs up spread wide as he pounded into her again and again. His frantic strokes were driving her wild, and she growled and mewled against him. Wanting more. Needing more. Her whole body blazed in response to this assault and she simply couldn’t get enough. Her orgasm when it came was so sudden she almost blacked out and he wasn’t far behind, as with an almost inhuman sound as he pulled out before he came inside her. They both collapsed in the bottom of the shower, totally spent.
* * * * *
Gaspard Maximilian, better known as The Rooster, stood on top of a small stool as his tailor adjusted the length of his custom-made suit. He looked down at the man who’d dared disturb him.
“So, what you’re telling me is that Akhmed, the mechanic who did so many good jobs for us in Indonesia is really the same American operative who has been hunting me? That he’s a double agent?” he said.
“That would seem to be the case, sir.”
“And where did you get this information and why are you only finding out about it now?”
“Our contact within the organization has only just now gotten the information to us, sir.”
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