Her hair spilled around her face in a fury of damp curls. He positioned his body over hers, keeping his weight on his elbows as he kissed her again and again. Her hands moved hungrily over his chest, where she unbuttoned his shirt and slid the garment over his shoulders. Her fingertips on his hot skin inflamed him, and his body throbbed with the need to feel those hands everywhere.
Lifting his mouth from hers, he watched her passion-heavy eyes open slowly and look at him. She spoke to him silently with those eyes, holding his gaze as she ran her hands down his chest to the snap of his jeans. He sucked in a sharp breath at the touch of her knuckles against his stomach, and the agonizingly slow downward hiss of his zipper brought his senses to a fever pitch.
She gasped as he rolled suddenly onto his back, bringing her on top of him. Her sweater was off in one swift move and the front clasp of her bra open. She started to pull away from him, not realizing that she’d positioned herself exactly the way he wanted. He cupped her breasts with his hands, then covered one hardened peak with his mouth. She moaned, squirming against him as his tongue swirled hot and wet over the hardened tip, instinctively moving the juncture of her thighs against his arousal. Every soft whimper, every little moan, pushed him closer to the edge, until he thought he might go mad from wanting.
Mindless, Sarah rocked her body against Caleb’s, increasing the ache that filled her body. His mouth and tongue on her breast sent exquisite ripples of pleasure through her, ripples that intensified and centered between her legs. She dragged her nails over his chest, then raked her fingers through his hair.
“I love you,” she whispered without hesitation, without reserve.
He moaned, then suddenly she was on her back again. Caleb looked down at her, his dark eyes intense, his breathing ragged. She smiled and touched his cheek, then his lips. With his gaze holding hers, he took her hands in his, kissed each one, then lifted her arms over her head while he gently kissed her lips, her neck, her breasts. She tossed her head back and forth, frustrated that she couldn’t touch him, and at the same time her excitement was heightened by his tender entrapment.
“Caleb, please,” she cried, writhing under him.
He ignored her, just continued his slow torturous exploration of her body, finally releasing her hands as he moved lower. He slid her pants and underwear off in one liquid-smooth movement, then removed his own while he traced the valley of her hips with his mouth. And when he moved lower still, and his lips and tongue caressed the most intimate part of her, a pleasure unlike anything she could have possibly imagined consumed her. She heard the sound of her own voice sobbing his name, but she sounded far away. She twisted the bedspread in her fists, moving uncontrollably in a spasm of intense ecstasy.
His body rose over hers and he slid into her, catching the wave of her pleasure as he thrust deeply, her name on his lips ragged and hoarse. She clung to him, arching upward wildly as the wave crested. He shuddered powerfully, again and again, and when he finally stilled, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held him tight.
“I can’t move.”
Sarah’s breathless announcement several moments later made Caleb smile. He pressed his lips to her neck, then each breast. She shivered at his touch and slid her fingers through his hair. He started to move, but she pulled him back.
“No,” she whispered. “Don’t move. Stay right where you are.”
“Right where I am, huh?” he said teasingly.
She slowly opened her heavy eyelids and looked at him. The blue was deeper than he’d ever seen them before, the look sensuous. Her skin was damp and flushed.
“Exactly right where you are,” she repeated with a slow smile.
“You’ll have to give me a minute if you have something in mind.”
Her eyes widened and she asked with sheer innocence, “Only a minute?”
He laughed and moved inside her, bringing forth a sigh from her parted lips.
She moved her hands up his shoulders, then down his chest. His skin was slick, and her fingernails raked lightly over him. “I don’t know anything about you,” she whispered.
He nuzzled her ear. “I wouldn’t say that’s completely true.”
“You know—” her breath caught as his hand cupped her breast “—what I mean.”
He sighed, took hold of her hips and quickly rolled onto his back, careful not to break the contact between them. She gasped, then smiled, obviously pleased with the freedom and control he’d just given her. He was just as pleased with the view. “And just what would you like to know about me?”
“You mean I can ask?”
“Of course you can ask. Whether I can answer you or not, though, will depend on what you ask.”
Her expression grew thoughtful, then she said, “Is your real name Caleb Hunter?”
“No.”
She seemed surprised. “It fits you, you know. I can’t imagine you a Hubert or a Wendell.”
“Thanks, I think.”
She studied his face for a moment, then touched the jagged scar over his left eyebrow. “How did you get this?”
He hesitated. “An explosion.”
Her eyes widened. “You were in an explosion? How did—” she stopped suddenly “—no, never mind. That’s not the part of you I want to know about. Do you have family?”
He shook his head. “My mom died when I was seven, and my dad took off when I was nine. I had a kid sister, Carrie, she was only three when our dad left, but we were split up and sent to foster homes. I never saw her after that.”
“You have a sister and you never tried to find her?”
“I tried just before I went into the service at eighteen, but had no luck. Later, after I went to work for the government, I could have found her, I had the resources, but I decided it was better this way, not knowing.”
Her expression softened as she ran her index finger over his chin. “She would be a weak spot, as you so lovingly refer to people you care about.”
He sighed. “I can’t care about anyone, Sarah. I’d only end up hurting them.”
But he did care, she knew. Whether he admitted it or not, he cared. About her, about his sister. No matter how hard he tried, he wasn’t the cold, unfeeling person he wanted her to believe.
“People get hurt every day, Caleb,” she said softly. “Bad things happen. What matters is how you spend the time you do have. Who you spend that time with.”
“You don’t understand,” he said harshly. “I’ve seen it, Sarah. Another agent—he was a friend—we had a meeting, an exchange of information. I stood outside the car, the agent and his wife were in the front seat. She joked with me about fixing me up, invited me for dinner—” he closed his eyes and drew in a breath “—the car exploded. I was thrown twenty feet. There was nothing I could do.”
When he opened his eyes again, she saw the anguish there. “Oh, Caleb, I’m so sorry.”
“He’d always said he wanted out of our department,” Caleb said a dry laugh. “That was about the only way to do it.”
Her own throat tightened and her heart ached for him, for the agent and his wife. And when he looked at her again she saw a determination, an absolute and unshakable resolve that left her cold.
He would never bring her into his life. Never.
This was all they’d have. These few hours. She’d deal with her own heartache later, but for now, for this little slice of time, she would cherish every minute they had.
She brought her fingers to his mouth and traced the firm outline of his lips. No more words, she thought, and when he took hold of her hand and nuzzled her palm, she felt the desire rise again. Closing her eyes, she drew in a long, slow breath.
“Caleb?” she murmured. “Can I ask you just one more question?”
He slid one hand over her hip and rear end. “Hmm?”
“Exactly how many minutes does it take before you—”
Laughing, he pulled her to him and answered.
Ten
It was dark when she woke. Th
e heavy drapes were drawn, but yellow light from the motel sign flooded in from the sides, giving shape to the sparse furniture in the room. She heard a door slam from a neighboring room, then the roar of a car engine before it drove away. She stared at the illuminated dial on the nightstand clock. Eight-fifteen. She’d been asleep for almost two hours, since Caleb had left. He hadn’t told her where he’d gone or when he’d be back, but he had left explicit instructions not to answer the door or phone.
Dragging her hands through her hair, she sat on the edge of the bed and tugged at the large white T-shirt Caleb had given her to wear. Wolf, who’d been sleeping on the floor beside her, greeted her with a wet tongue on her cheek.
“Hello to you, too,” she said sleepily, rubbing the animal’s head.
For the moment, at least, she felt safe here. Victor was probably still looking for them in the mountains, and even if he had realized that they’d managed to get away, there would be no way he could trace them here. No one had seen her face when they’d checked in, and just in case Victor had figured out they’d stolen the truck, Caleb had switched plates with another car parked in a long-term parking lot for the L.A. airport shuttle service.
She stretched lazily, then stared at the bathroom door, uncertain if she could make it that far. Her arms and legs were weak, her muscles sore. But the luxury of a hot bath gave her the strength to pull off her T-shirt and manage the few feet.
A few moments later, when she lowered herself into the steaming tub, complete with strawberry-scented bubbles from a complimentary motel bath gel, a long sigh escaped her. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back against the cool porcelain, letting the heat from the water ease the aches in her body.
She smiled slowly, remembering in exquisite detail exactly why her body was so sore. She recalled every touch, every whisper, of making love with Caleb earlier. The masculine scent of his skin, the coarse, erotic texture of his hands on her body. In spite of the warm water, she shivered. Her skin felt tight and sensitive, and merely thinking about him brought waves of pleasure radiating through her. A little more than two hours had passed since they’d made love, and already she wanted him again.
There was so little time left, and that thought made her ache inside, with need, with longing. Because it was too painful, she refused to let herself think beyond the moment. Whether she had five minutes or five hours with Caleb, she would remember every precious second.
It felt as if she’d lived her entire life on Pause. After she’d lost her parents, Granny had sheltered her, and then after Granny had become ill, there’d been no time for herself outside of the library. Robert had been one of her few friends, and she was going to miss him. Victor Howard was going to pay for killing him, she thought angrily. She intended to make sure of that. Whatever it took to put the man away, she would do it.
After that, she knew that she would never see Caleb again, that she would go back to her life as it was before. No, not like it was before. Nothing would ever be like it was before. Not after Caleb.
At least he would know that she loved him. If nothing else, she’d given him that to take with him.
A wave of water suddenly splashed over her face. Gasping, she sat straight up. Caleb knelt by the tub, a frown on his face, but a smile in his eyes.
“First rule,” he said, “is never close your eyes while taking a bath.”
“You scared me half to death,” she sputtered, wiping at her face.
“Nice bubbles.”
She felt the heat of a blush on her cheeks as he stared at her wet body, his gaze lingering over her breasts. His eyes darkened suddenly and the smile was gone.
Biting her bottom lip, she sank back down under the water.
“You know what I’ve never done?” He stood slowly and began to unbutton his shirt.
She shook her head.
“Taken a bubble bath.”
Her eyes widened as his hand went to his zipper. “Caleb, you can’t, I mean you wouldn’t…”
“Wouldn’t what?”
Jeans and boots were gone. He stood naked in front of her. Beautifully, powerfully, naked. It was her turn to stare now.
“Fit,” she said, her breath suddenly quick and shallow.
He smiled. “I fit very well,” he said, his expression intense as he lowered himself into the tub. In one easy move, he sat and pulled her on top of him. Water splashed over the rim.
Gasping, Sarah fell forward, hands splayed on his wide chest. He circled her waist with his hands, positioning her body, then with a sigh of intense pleasure, he entered her.
Waves of heat shimmered through her. He cupped her breasts with his large hands, and she closed her eyes.
“What did I tell you,” he said, his voice harsh and strained, “about closing your eyes when you take a bath?”
She smiled and opened them again, holding his dark, fierce gaze with her own. She took him deeper inside her, saw his eyes narrow and his jaw tighten as she moved sensuously over him. His hands moved to her buttocks and held tight as he drove himself upward with long, hard strokes. Sarah moved with him, amazed that the need could rise so quickly and with such urgency. The scent of strawberries enclosed them; bubbles burst and floated in the air. Water sluiced over their bodies and splashed over the sides.
Her fingers curled into his chest, and with a soft, strangled cry, she arched her back. The tension inside her shattered, and he gathered her close, crushing her to him as his own powerful release shuddered from his body into hers.
Still holding her, he leaned back, his breathing as ragged as her own. Water lapped at their skin, and the tiny popping sound of disintegrating bubbles surrounded them.
He kissed her, slowly and thoroughly. Gently. She cupped his face in her hands and savored the taste of him, the feel of his tongue mating with hers.
With a contented sigh she lay in his arms, her head nestled under his chin. Neither one of them cared that the water had long since cooled and the bubbles disappeared.
“I’ve brought you a present.” Caleb’s gaze followed the path of the towel he used to dry off Sarah’s bare shoulders and back. Her skin was still flushed from their lovemaking, and she smelled like strawberries.
“Please tell me it’s food.” She leaned back against him while he wrapped the towel around her.
He smiled and kissed the curve of her neck. “Pizza,” he said, then pulled on his jeans. “But that’s not the present.”
He took hold of her hand and pulled her back into the room. There were two three-foot-high stacks of newspapers sitting on the table with a pizza box on top. Confused, she simply looked at him.
“A little reading material.” He sat her on the bed, grabbed the pizza, then stretched out on the bed be side her, resisting the temptation to tug at the knot holding together the towel she wore. “Hope you like peppers and pineapple.”
“Doesn’t everyone?” She picked the pineapples off a slice and dropped them on a piece Caleb went for. “Why do I need reading material?”
Wolf rose from the spot he’d adopted by the door and came over to investigate the smell of food. Caleb reached into a bag and pulled out a bowl and a small box of dry food.
“Robert had written something,” he said, setting a bowl of food in front of the animal. “Something that Victor hadn’t wanted him to write about. We’ve got to figure out what it was.”
She stared at the papers with disbelief. “Robert wrote entertainment editorials for two newspapers, plus free-lance articles for the arts and leisure section of the Times. Where and how could you possibly have come up with all of those articles in a couple of hours?”
He shrugged. “I don’t have them all. Just the past six weeks before his death. I’m counting on what we’re looking for being in one of those.”
She sighed heavily and reached for the T-shirt she’d left lying on the bed. “Six weeks or six years. How will we know what it is that we’re looking for?”
He watched with interest as she discarded the towel an
d pulled on the T-shirt, fascinated by the way the cloth molded itself to her damp breasts. With a rueful sigh, he tossed a handful of papers at her, then settled back with a stack for himself and another piece of pizza. “I’m hoping we’ll know when we see it.”
“And if we don’t?” she asked quietly.
He saw the fear in her eyes, the unasked question. “It’s here. I know it is. We’ll find whatever button it was that Robert pushed, and we’ll nail Victor’s butt.”
“Can’t you just have him arrested?” she asked. “He killed Robert and tried to kill me.”
Caleb shook his head. “Even Mike can’t have an FBI agent brought in without some kind of proof. Right now it’s your word against his. There would have to be an investigation, which would give Howard time to cover his tracks.”
“And get rid of me,” she added.
He slid across the bed and pulled her into his arms. “He won’t get close to you again,” he said softly. “I won’t let him.”
She laid her head against his chest and ran her fingers lightly over his arm. “I’m so sorry I brought you into this. I couldn’t live with it if anything happened to you.”
It amazed him how the slightest touch from her aroused him, not only physically, but. deeper, in a place where no woman had ever been before. Where no woman ever would be again. He needed her to be safe, even though it meant that once she was, he would never see her again.
“I’m not sorry,” he murmured. “And nothing is going to happen to me.”
She pulled away, her gaze piercing as she searched his face. “Is that a promise?”
He’d never made a promise in his life. He didn’t believe in them. Didn’t trust them. But looking at Sarah, watching the blue of her eyes deepen as she looked at him, he would have promised her anything. “I promise.”
There was a sudden passion in her eyes he’d never seen before, an intensity that shone like fire in blue ice. “See that you keep that promise, Hunter,” she said tightly, then shoved a newspaper at him. “Start reading.”
Midnight Bride Page 12