Intimate Strangers

by Laura Taylor

  Trembling as his hands moved lower, she felt her stomach muscles quiver when he smoothed his knuckles back and forth across her abdomen. A starburst of sensations exploded within her. Hannah shifted even closer, the need to crawl beneath his skin nearly obscuring her connection to reality as streamers of fire unfurled in her bloodstream.

  Aching for Nicholas, she welcomed the images flashing across her mind of their bodies joined in the ultimate intimacy. She savored the feel of his strong fingers as he cupped her hips and brought her against his swollen, throbbing loins. Hannah sighed into his mouth, the power of his need and the stunning reality of her own nearly mindless craving to mate with him devastating her senses.

  Without a hint of warning, Nicholas tore his mouth free of her lips. She felt as though her soul had been ripped in two when he jerked back from her. She clutched his forearms to steady herself. His ragged breathing matched hers as they stared at each other.

  She saw the shock in his eyes. Although she longed to fling herself back into his arms and insist that he continue his assault on her senses, she withdrew her hands and backed away from him. The insanity of her behavior jolted through her like a thunderclap. She felt stunned and disbelieving, her emotions reduced to so much rubble in the aftermath of the storm that had swept over them.

  They were strangers, she reminded herself. Intimate strangers fated to be adversaries because of her search for her brother. She knew it was insane to think or to hope that they could ever be anything more.

  As she stared up at Nicholas, Hannah raised trembling fingers to her swollen lips. With his head thrown back, his eyes closed, and his entire body corded with strain, he reminded her of a warrior in the heat of a fierce battle, a battle she didn’t completely comprehend.

  Awash in uncertainty, she feared he’d chosen to use any tactic available to him in order to silence her. Any tactic, she thought, up to and including seduction. While her common sense suggested that that was exactly what he’d just done, she still prayed that he’d touched her out of desire and not as the result of his need to manipulate her into submission.

  Hannah sagged against the doorframe. Lifting her hands, she pressed her fingertips to her temples to ease the dull pain throbbing there. All the while, she again tried to convince herself that she hadn’t driven Nicholas to the point that he’d decided to shut her up any way he knew how. She failed in both endeavors.

  "This can’t happen again," he told her in a low, grit–filled voice.

  "If my brother has become at all like you, then it’s a good thing I didn’t wait any longer to search for him."

  He reached for her. "Hannah…"

  She ducked away from his hands, certain that if he touched her again she would throw herself directly into his arms. Turning away from him without a backward glance, she fled his sad eyes, the bleak expression etched into his harshly carved face, and the knowledge that she still craved the intimacy and intensity of his possession.

  After locking her bedroom door, she crawled into bed and tugged the covers up to her chin. Hannah fought the urge to weep. And each time she thought about the vulnerability she’d seen in Nicholas Benteen’s eyes, she clenched her fists at her sides and told herself to quit crediting the man with human qualities.

  He’d tried to seduce her, she decided, as a mean by which to distract her from the real purpose of her trip. He didn’t deserve the benefit of the doubt, although a part of her longed to give it to him.

  The tension in her body slowly retreated. Hannah fell asleep, too emotionally bruised and physically depleted to resist her body’s need for rest.

  ** ** **

  Nicholas walked into the kitchen late the following morning. He didn’t bother to disguise his ugly mood as he glowered at Hannah.

  She glanced cautiously at him and then returned her attention to the platter she was filling with scrambled eggs and bacon. She kept her thoughts to herself as she added several slices of buttered toast to the side of the platter.

  Nicholas blamed her for a sleepless night and the low–level state of arousal that still tortured his body. He felt like a fool for allowing her mere presence, whether or not she knew it, to bring into sharp focus the loneliness that had been his constant companion in recent years. He considered her a disruptive force in the parcel of the world under his control, and he vowed to put an end to the situation as quickly as possible.

  Nicholas hadn’t bothered to return to the master suite after their late night confrontation. Instead, he’d spent the intervening hours in his study. Frustrated with his inability to concentrate on his work, he grew more and more annoyed with Hannah.

  He’d monitored her throughout the night and well into the morning hours. Thanks to his sophisticated security system, he knew the instant she’d left her bed, showered, and dressed. He tracked her movement through the house as she made her way to the kitchen, courtesy of a bevy of motion sensors and a few well–placed microphones. Once she initiated breakfast preparations, he allowed himself the time to shower and dress for the day.

  "Do you ever do anything besides eat?" He filled a mug with coffee before he slouched that long, muscular body against the edge of the countertop.

  Hannah swallowed a laugh. "Aren’t we in a good mood this morning."

  She looked far more rested than she had any right to after what he knew had been a very restless night. Clad once again in her leggings, sweater, and hiking boots, Hannah resembled a model in an advertising campaign for the all–American woman.

  Although his instincts insisted that she was as harmless as she appeared, past experience continued to urge him to err on the side of caution. Ulterior motives possessed the power to pervert the most decent of people.

  "Eggs and bacon?" she asked.

  "I see you’ve made yourself at home." His chagrin underscored every word.

  A hint of wariness showed in her expression as she returned his gaze. "I love exploring new places. Besides, your kitchen is very organized, so I didn’t have any trouble finding what I needed."

  "Obviously."

  Nicholas watched her place the full platter in the center of the table, settle into a chair, and reach for her napkin. Although he noticed the slight tremor in her fingers, he said nothing.

  "Please join me." She smiled as she looked up at him. "We really do need to talk."

  His grip tightened on the mug he held. He recalled her sweet taste and the feel of her shapely body as they’d explored the passion that had exploded between them. He forced himself beyond those sensory memories, reminding himself that she couldn’t remain in his home.

  "Wrong. You need to listen. I suspect it will be a new experience for you."

  He heard her soft sigh and saw the instant that the hopeful expression disappeared from her heart–shaped face. His body responded to the sound, his emotions to her disappointment. Nicholas loathed the idea of hurting Hannah, but he considered his response to her a weakness fueled by sexual desire. Nothing more. It couldn’t be anything more.

  The lives of those who resided in the more remote sections of his property depended upon his vigilance. Their loyalty and friendship, not simply their collective need for a retreat from the world of violence they’d endured and survived, made him willing to carry the burden of protecting them. It didn’t matter that he no longer commanded them on battlefields across the globe. What truly mattered was that he considered them his family, and he would guard against anyone he deemed capable of harming them.

  Nicholas refocused on Hannah’s face. When he noticed her curious expression, he felt a reluctant kind of gratitude that she didn’t feel compelled to hammer at him with questions about the current state of his mind.

  "I’m more than willing to listen to what you have to say, but conversation is a two–way street where I come from, so I’ll expect you to return the courtesy." Hannah took a sip of her orange juice before reaching for her fork.

  "Don’t hold your breath."

  She smiled gently. "The eggs are get
ting cold."

  He joined her at the table, flashed a quick glance at the platter, and then peered at her as he set aside his coffee cup. "I thought you said you couldn’t cook."

  "Breakfast is the sum total of my skill in the kitchen."

  He sipped his coffee while she sampled each item of the breakfast she’d prepared. Only then did he indulge his own hunger and serve himself. They ate in silence.

  Nicholas noticed with no small amount of surprise that Hannah had the appetite of a linebacker. For such a small woman, he wondered where she put it all. He also noted that she seemed suspiciously unruffled by his close scrutiny as she concentrated on her food. Halfway through their meal, she retrieved the pot from the coffee maker.

  Nicholas clenched his fists in his lap when she approached his side of the table. Her fragrance, something light and far too alluring, teased his senses. By the sheer force of his will, he managed not to touch her as she refilled his cup.

  A tremor of nervousness in her hand caused her to splash coffee on the table as she poured. Nicholas didn’t let himself react. He waited until she stepped away, then blotted the small puddle with his napkin and finished his meal, consciously quelling the urge he felt to apologize for being so rude to her.

  "I haven’t had homemade preserves in years. It’s a lost art. A gift from a friend?" She smeared raspberry preserves on her toast and then took an appreciative bite.

  Nicholas glanced at the jar of preserves, his thoughts on the woman who kept him well–supplied with all manner of canned fruits and vegetables. He knew the former covert field operative used the activity as a form of therapy, especially if her emotions became fragmented or her thoughts strayed back to a past that included the loss of her hearing thanks to a malfunctioning bomb.

  He gave Hannah a hard look, a look designed to intimidate the recipient. "I meant it when I said you talk too much. You also ask too many questions."

  She stared at him then, clearly baffled by his hostility, but he had no intention of letting up on her now.

  "I’ve got someone I trust checking you out, so I suggest you sit tight in town. None of the local motels are full this time of year, so you shouldn’t have any trouble with accommodations. If you’re who you claim to be, then I’ll discuss Sean Cassidy with you. Until then, you’re persona non grata around here."

  "You’re absolutely paranoid, aren’t you?"

  "Careful," he warned. "Be very, very careful, Hannah Cassidy. You’re up to your ass in a situation you couldn’t possibly understand."

  "Who are you?" Shock resonated in her voice.

  "A man who has reached the age of forty by using his brains, not his emotions."

  She shook her head. "No."

  He frowned. "No?"

  "No, I will not leave. In fact, I’m certain I shouldn’t leave, because you’d find a way to make it impossible for me to ever return. And if that happens, I’ll never locate Sean. No, Nicholas. I won’t risk leaving."

  "This isn’t a damn debate!"

  "Then stop giving me orders like some kind of… of petty tyrant! If you don’t want me in your house, fine. I’ll stay in my van. I’ve done it before."

  "Absolutely not! It’s too dangerous. The forecast is lousy. Temperatures are about to drop back down below zero and stay there. And more snow’s on the way, probably a couple of feet."

  Mule–headed to the end, she announced, "I’ll take my chances."

  "Damn it, woman! I don’t need you freezing to death in my driveway."

  She glared at him, ignoring his derisive tone. "May I still have kitchen and bathroom privileges? I’ve got a stack of books with me that I’ve been meaning to read, so I’ll stay busy while we wait for your report."

  He sprang out of his chair, too agitated to sit still any longer. "You never quit, do you? Doesn’t it matter to you that you’re trespassing?"

  "Hardly! Do you really expect me to give up on a goal because I’ve temporarily inconvenienced you?" she challenged.

  He moved in her direction. "I expect you to respect my privacy, which you seem to have a hard time doing."

  "And I expect you to respect the fact that I cannot and will not abandon my search for my brother." Her shoulders slumped, and her fingertips strayed to her temples. Finally, she peered up at the man towering over her. "Look, we got off on the wrong foot yesterday. Couldn’t we start again with a clean slate, maybe even try to be friends?"

  He ignored her hopefulness. "What about last night?" Nicholas demanded as he prowled back and forth, his long–legged stride making the huge kitchen seem small.

  "What about it?" Her voice sounded faint, and her cheeks lost their rosy flush.

  "There’s too damned much chemistry between us."

  She gave him a prim look. "Then we’ll both have to be more… circumspect in our behavior, won’t we?"

  "Circumspect?" Amazed by the drawing room quality of the word, he bellowed, "Circumspect?"

  Hannah flinched, and then she nodded. "Precisely."

  Nicholas muttered an ugly oath. "I cannot and will not promise to keep my hands off you. Do you want to risk a repeat performance of what happened between us last night? I guarantee that, if it does happen again, you’ll definitely end up in my bed."

  She paled even more, and then she squared her shoulders. "Let’s just chalk up last night to the tensions of the moment, and forget it even happened. Easier for both us that way, don’t you think?"

  Nicholas seized her and jerked her to her feet. "You don’t get it, do you?"

  "Don’t shout at me!"

  "Hannah…"

  "And no, I don’t get it." She tried to squirm free of his hold, but her body went very still when she caught a glimpse of the expression on his face. "I also don’t understand why what happened between us even happened in the first place, unless you were just trying to shut me up. If that was the case, then next time just tell me you are tired of hearing the sound of my voice."

  "You wanted me!" he gritted out.

  "And I thought you wanted me!" she blazed, matching his decibel level. "But what’s the point of even discussing it? You obviously suspect me of… of… God! I don’t even know what you suspect me of. You keep treating me like some sort of deranged mass murderer." Hannah took a steadying breath. "Be reasonable, Nicholas. We’re hopelessly mismatched. You’d never become involved with someone like me. You don’t even like me. And I’m not the sort of woman who has meaningless affairs. If and when I become intimate with a man, it’s only because I’m sure it’s right for both of us and he cares enough to treat me with respect and honor."

  "Containment," he muttered more to himself than to Hannah as he shifted mental gears with an agility honed to a knife’s edge during his past.

  Containment was his next logical move, perhaps the only tactic that would sober Hannah sufficiently for her to grasp her current jeopardy. He heard the voice of his conscience as he studied her through narrowed eyes. Registering the bewildered look on her face, he silently acknowledged that he wanted the time to know her better while also safeguarding the lives of his friends.

  Hannah gave him a wary look. "What did you just say?"

  "The only way to deal with you is to contain you."

  She bucked beneath his hands. "Don’t you dare try to tie me up and shove me into a closet."

  He tightened his grip on her shoulders, shooting her an incredulous look. "I’m going to contain you, not terrorize you."

  "You’ve already done more than enough terrorizing."

  "Talking to you is like talking to a wall."

  "How flattering!" Her tone of voice would have withered a lesser man.

  He gave her a little shake. "Pay attention. You’re not to wander around. If you want something when I’m working, use the intercom."

  She flushed. They both already knew that she had a tendency to ignore his edicts. "I will."

  "I’m serious, Hannah. You could be injured if you stick your nose where it doesn’t belong. You’ll restrict yoursel
f to the use of the living room, the kitchen, and the guestroom. That’s it, unless I’m with you. You will not go outside unescorted. I don’t want to deal with the inconvenience of having to search for you if you get lost, or explain to the authorities why a civilian was taken out while on my land."

  She stared at him. "Taken out?"

  "You heard me."

  "As in killed?" she squeaked.

  "Now you’re getting it."

  She exhaled, the sound tremulous. "Now I know how Alice must have felt."

  "Alice, who?" he demanded.

  "In Wonderland."

  Nicholas swore.

  "Colorful." After a searching look, she further shocked him when she said, "I agree to your terms, Nicholas. All of them."

  "You’re out of your mind."

  A faint smile lifted the edges of her lips. "Possibly."

  "There’s no possibly about it."

  Triumph flickered in her eyes. Nicholas didn’t miss it, but he already cared enough about her to allow her this small victory.

  He exhaled a harsh breath, trying to persuade himself that having Hannah with him suited his purposes. He had the uneasy feeling that Hannah possessed the ability to bulldoze her way through any and all emotional blockades he might erect. As for the feelings she stirred within his weary heart, he knew he’d finally met his match. She fascinated, intrigued, amused, and aroused him to the point of physical anguish.

  He craved a steady diet of Hannah’s spirited and passionate nature, but he wouldn’t risk putting her in danger, even if that danger had diminished over the last several years. He already knew the toll taken by a heightened state of alertness against potential threats, because he’d lived his entire adult life in that manner.

  Had anyone ever cautioned him that a woman he hardly knew would touch him so deeply or make him ache with constant hunger, he would have denounced the possibility. But now, a part of him wondered what might have happened between them had he lived a less lethal life and become a different and far less wary man.