Dangerous Embrace

by Nora Roberts

  Her fingers crept up to his. “I’m sorry.”

  “The thing was he didn’t need to—we had access to any car in the garage. He told me he just wanted to see if he could get away with it.”

  “He didn’t make life easy for you.”

  “No, he didn’t make life easy. Especially for himself. But he never did anything out of meanness. There were times I hated him, but I never stopped loving him.”

  Liz drew closer. “Love hurts more than hate.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “Liz, I don’t suppose you’ve ever talked to a lawyer about Faith.”

  “Why should I?”

  “Marcus has a responsibility, a financial responsibility at the least, to you and Faith.”

  “I took money from Marcus once. Not again.”

  “Child support payments could be set up very quietly. You could stop working seven days a week.”

  Liz took a deep breath and pulled away until she could see his face. “Faith is my child, has been my child only since the moment Marcus handed me a check. I could have had the abortion and gone back to my life as I’d planned it. I chose not to. I chose to have the baby, to raise the baby, to support the baby. She’s never given me anything but pleasure from the moment she was born, and I have no intention of sharing her.”

  “One day she’s going to ask you for his name.”

  Liz moistened her lips, but nodded. “Then one day I’ll tell her. She’ll have her own choice to make.”

  He wouldn’t press her now, but there was no reason he couldn’t have his law clerk begin to investigate child support laws and paternity cases. “Are you going to let me meet her? I know the deal is for me to be out of the house and out of your life when she gets back. I will, but I’d like the chance to meet her.”

  “If you’re still in Mexico.”

  “One more question.”

  The smile came more easily. “One more.”

  “There haven’t been any other men, have there?”

  The smile faded. “No.”

  He felt twin surges of gratitude and guilt. “Then let me show you how it should be.”

  “There’s no need—”

  Gently, he brushed the hair back from her face. “Yes, there is. For both of us.” He kissed her eyes closed. “I’ve wanted you from the first.” His mouth on hers was as sweet as spring rain and just as gentle. Slowly, he slipped the robe from her shoulders, following the trail with warm lips. “Your skin’s like gold,” he murmured, then traced a finger over her breasts where the tone changed. “And so pale. I want to see all of you.”

  “Jonas—”

  “All of you,” he repeated, looking into her eyes until the heat kindled again. “I want to make love with all of you.”

  She didn’t resist. Never in her life had anyone ever touched her with such reverence, looked at her with such need. When he urged her back, Liz lay on the bed, naked and waiting.

  “Lovely,” Jonas murmured. Her body was milk and honey in the moonlight. And her eyes were dark—dark and open and uncertain. “I want you to trust me.” He began a slow journey of exploration at her ankles. “I want to know when I look at you that you’re not afraid of me.”

  “I’m not afraid of you.”

  “You have been. Maybe I’ve even wanted you to be. No more.”

  His tongue slid over her skin and teased the back of her knees. The jolt of power had her rising up and gasping. “Jonas.”

  “Relax.” He ran a hand lightly up her hip. “I want to feel your bones melt. Lie back, Liz. Let me show you how much you can have.”

  She obeyed, only because she hadn’t the strength to resist. He murmured to her, stroking, nibbling, until she was too steeped in what he gave to give in return. But he wanted her that way, wanted to take her as though she hadn’t been touched before. Not by him, not by anyone. Slowly, thoroughly and with great, great patience he seduced and pleasured. He thought as his mouth skimmed up her thigh that he could hear her skin hum.

  She’d never known anything could be like this—so deep, so dark. There was a freedom here, she discovered, that she’d once only associated with diving down through silent fathoms. Her body could float, her limbs could be weightless, but she could feel every touch, every movement. Dreamlike, sensations drifted over her, so soft, so misty, each blended into the next. How long could it go on? Perhaps, after all, there were forevers.

  She was lean, with muscles firm in her legs. Like a dancer’s he thought, disciplined and trained. The scent from the bowl on her dresser spiced the air, but it was her fragrance, cool as a waterfall, that swam in his head. His mind emptied of everything but the need to delight her. Love, when unselfish, has incredible power.

  His tongue plunged into the heat and his hands gripped hers as she arched, stunned at being flung from a floating world to a churning one. He drew from her, both patient and relentless, until she shuddered to climax and over. When her hands went limp in his, he brought them back to his body and pleasured himself.

  She hadn’t known passion could stretch so far or a body endure such a barrage of sensations. His hands, rough at the palm, showed her secrets she’d never had the chance to imagine. His lips, warmed from her own skin, opened mysteries and whispered the answers. He gentled her, he enticed her, he stroked with tenderness and he devoured. Gasping for air, she had no choice but to allow him whatever he wanted, and to strain for him to show her more.

  When he was inside of her she thought it was all, and more, than she could ever want. If this was love, she’d never tasted it. If this was passion, she’d only skimmed its surface. Now it was time to risk the depths. Willing, eager, she held on to him.

  It was trust he felt from her, and trust that moved him unbearably. He thought he’d needed before, desired before, but never so completely. Though he knew what it was to be part of another person, he’d never expected to feel the merger again. Strong, complex, unavoidable, the emotion swamped him. He belonged to her as fully as he’d wanted her to belong to him.

  He took her slowly, so that the thrill that coursed through her seemed endless. His skin was moist when she pressed her lips to his throat. The pulse there was as quick as her own. A giddy sense of triumph moved through her, only to be whipped away with passion before it could spread.

  Then he drew her up to him, and her body, liquid and limber with emotion, rose like a wave to press against his. Wrapped close, mouths fused, they moved together. Her hair fell like rain down her back. She could feel his heartbeat fast against her breast.

  Still joined, they lowered again. The rhythm quickened. Desperation rose. She heard him breathe her name before the gates burst open and she was lost in the flood.

  CHAPTER 9

  She woke slowly, with a long, lazy stretch. Keeping her eyes closed, Liz waited for the alarm to ring. It wasn’t often she felt so relaxed, even when waking, so she pampered herself and absorbed the luxury of doing nothing. In an hour, she mused, she’d be at the dive shop shifting through the day’s schedule. The glass bottom, she thought, frowning a little. Was she supposed to take it out? Odd that she couldn’t remember. Then with a start, it occurred to her that she didn’t remember because she didn’t know. She hadn’t handled the schedule in two days. And last night…

  She opened her eyes and looked into Jonas’s.

  “I could watch your mind wake up.” He bent over and kissed her. “Fascinating.”

  Liz closed her fingers over the sheet and tugged it a little higher. What was she supposed to say? She’d never spent the night with a man, never awoken with one. She cleared her throat and wondered if every man awoke as sexily disheveled as Jonas Sharpe. “How did you sleep?” she managed, and felt ridiculous.

  “Fine.” He smiled as he brushed her hair from her cheek with a fingertip. “And you?”

  “Fine.” Her fingers moved restlessly on the sheet until he closed his hands over them. His eyes were warm and heavy and made her heart pound.

  “It’s a little late to be n
ervous around me, Elizabeth.”

  “I’m not nervous.” But color rose to her cheeks when he pressed his lips to her naked shoulder.

  “Still, it’s rather flattering. If you’re nervous…” He turned his head so the tip of his tongue could toy with her ear. “Then you’re not unmoved. I wouldn’t like to think you felt casually about being with me—yet.”

  Was it possible to want so much this morning what she’d sated herself with the night before? She didn’t think it should be, and yet her body told her differently. She would, as she always did, listen to her intellect first. “It must be almost time to get up.” One hand firmly on the sheets, she rose on her elbows to look at the clock. “That’s not right.” She blinked and focused again. “It can’t be eight-fifteen.”

  “Why not?” He slipped a hand beneath the sheet and stroked her thigh.

  “Because.” His touch had her pulses speeding. “I always set it for six-fifteen.”

  Finding her a challenge, Jonas brushed light kisses over her shoulder, down her arm. “You didn’t set it last night.”

  “I always—” She cut herself off. It was hard enough to try to think when he was touching her, but when she remembered the night before, it was nearly impossible to understand why she had to think. Her mind hadn’t been on alarms and schedules and customers when her body had curled into Jonas’s to sleep. Her mind, as it was now, had been filled with him.

  “Always what?”

  She wished he wouldn’t distract her with fingertips sliding gently over her skin. She wished he could touch her everywhere at once. “I always wake up at six, whether I set it or not.”

  “You didn’t this time.” He laughed as he eased her back down. “I suppose I should be flattered again.”

  “Maybe I flatter you too much,” she murmured and started to shift away. He simply rolled her back to him. “I have to get up.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Jonas, I’m already late. I have to get to work.”

  Sunlight dappled over her face. He wanted to see it over the rest of her. “The only thing you have to do is make love with me.” He kissed her fingers, then slowly drew them from the sheet. “I’ll never get through the day without you.”

  “The boats—”

  “Are already out, I’m sure.” He cupped her breast, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the nipple. “Luis seems competent.”

  “He is. I haven’t been in for two days.”

  “One more won’t hurt.”

  Her body vibrated with need that slowly wound itself into her mind. Her arms came up to him, around him. “No, I guess it won’t.”

  * * *

  She hadn’t stayed in bed until ten o’clock since she’d been a child. Liz felt as irresponsible as one as she started the coffee. True, Luis could handle the shop and the boats as well as she, but it wasn’t his job. It was hers. Here she was, brewing coffee at ten o’clock, with her body still warm from loving. Nothing had been the same since Jonas Sharpe had arrived on her doorstep.

  “It’s useless to give yourself a hard time for taking a morning off,” Jonas said from behind her.

  Liz popped bread into the toaster. “I suppose not, since I don’t even know today’s schedule.”

  “Liz.” Jonas took her by the arms and firmly turned her around. He studied her, gauging her mood before he spoke. “You know, back in Philadelphia I’m considered a workaholic. I’ve had friends express concern over the workload I take on and the hours I put in. Compared to you, I’m retired.”

  Her brows drew together as they did when she was concentrating. Or annoyed. “We each do what we have to do.”

  “True enough. It appears what I have to do is harass you until you relax.”

  She had to smile. He said it so reasonably and his eyes were laughing. “I’m sure you have a reputation for being an expert on harassment.”

  “I majored in it at college.”

  “Good for you. But I’m an expert at budgeting my own time. And there’s my toast.” He let her pluck it out, waited until she’d buttered it, then took a piece for himself.

  “You mentioned diving lessons.”

  She was still frowning at him when she heard the coffee begin to simmer. She reached for one cup, then relented and took two. “What about them?”

  “I’ll take one. Today.”

  “Today?” She handed him his coffee, drinking her own standing by the stove. “I’ll have to see what’s scheduled. The way things have been going, both dive boats should already be out.”

  “Not a group lesson, a private one. You can take me out on the Expatriate.”

  “Luis usually takes care of the private lessons.”

  He smiled at her. “I prefer dealing with the management.”

  Liz dusted crumbs from her fingers. “All right then. It’ll cost you.”

  He lifted his cup in salute. “I never doubted it.”

  * * *

  Liz was laughing when Jonas pulled into a narrow parking space at the hotel. “If he’d picked your pocket, why did you defend him?”

  “Everyone’s entitled to representation,” Jonas reminded her. “Besides, I figured if I took him on as a client, he’d leave my wallet alone.”

  “And did he?”

  “Yeah.” Jonas took her hand as they crossed the sidewalk to the sand. “He stole my watch instead.”

  She giggled, a foolish, girlish sound he’d never heard from her. “And did you get him off?”

  “Two years probation. There, it looks like business is good.”

  Liz shielded her eyes from the sun and looked toward the shop. Luis was busily fitting two couples with snorkel gear. A glance to the left showed her only the Expatriate remained in dock. “Cozumel’s becoming very popular,” she murmured.

  “Isn’t that the idea?”

  “For business?” She moved her shoulders. “I’d be a fool to complain.”

  “But?”

  “But sometimes I think it would be nice if I could block out the changes. I don’t want to see the water choked with suntan oil. Hola, Luis.”

  “Liz!” His gaze passed over Jonas briefly before he grinned at her. “We thought maybe you deserted us. How did you like Acapulco?”

  “It was…different,” she decided, and was already scooting behind the counter to find the daily schedule. “Any problems?”

  “Jose took care of a couple repairs. I brought Miguel back to fill in, but I keep an eye on him. Got this—what do you call it—brochure on the aqua bikes.” He pulled out a colorful pamphlet, but Liz only nodded.

  “The Brinkman party’s out diving. Did we take them to Palancar?”

  “Two days in a row. Miguel likes them. They tip good.”

  “Hmm. You’re handling the shop alone.”

  “No problem. Hey, there was a guy.” He screwed up his face as he tried to remember the name. “Skinny guy, American. You know the one you took out on the beginners’ trip?”

  She flipped through the receipts and was satisfied. “Trydent?”

  “Sí, that was it. He came by a coupla times.”

  “Rent anything?”

  “No.” Luis wiggled his eyebrows at her. “He was looking for you.”

  Liz shrugged it off. If he hadn’t rented anything, he didn’t interest her. “If everything’s under control here, I’m going to take Mr. Sharpe out for a diving lesson.”

  Luis looked quickly at Jonas, then away. The man made him uneasy, but Liz looked happier than she had in weeks. “Want me to get the gear?”

  “No, I’ll take care of it.” She looked up and smiled at Jonas. “Write Mr. Sharpe up a rental form and give him a receipt for the gear, the lesson and the boat trip. Since it’s…” She trailed off as she checked her watch. “Nearly eleven, give him the half-day rate.”

  “You’re all heart,” Jonas murmured as she went to the shelves to choose his equipment.

  “You got the best teacher,” Luis told him, but couldn’t manage more than another quick l
ook at Jonas.

  “I’m sure you’re right.” Idly, Jonas swiveled the newspaper Luis had tossed on the counter around to face him. He missed being able to sit down with the morning paper over coffee. The Spanish headlines told him nothing. “Anything going on I should know about?” Jonas asked, indicating the paper.

  Luis relaxed a bit as he wrote. Jonas’s voice wasn’t so much like Jerry’s when you weren’t looking at him. “Haven’t had a chance to look at it yet. Busy morning.”

  Going with habit, Jonas turned the paper over. There, in a faded black-and-white picture, was Erika. Jonas’s fingers tightened. He glanced back and saw that Liz was busy, her back to him. Without a word, he slid the paper over the receipt Luis was writing.

  “Hey, that’s the—”

  “I know,” Jonas said in an undertone. “What does it say?”

  Luis bent over the paper to read. He straightened again very slowly, and his face was ashen. “Dead,” he whispered. “She’s dead.”

  “How?”

  Luis’s fingers opened and closed on the pen he held. “Stabbed.”

  Jonas thought of the knife held at Liz’s throat. “When?”

  “Last night.” Luis had to swallow twice. “They found her last night.”

  “Jonas,” Liz called from the back, “how much do you weigh?”

  Keeping his eyes on Luis, Jonas turned the paper over again. “One seventy. She doesn’t need to hear this now,” he added under his breath. He pulled bills from his wallet and laid them on the counter. “Finish writing the receipt.”

  After a struggle, Luis mastered his own fear and straightened. “I don’t want anything to happen to Liz.”

  Jonas met the look with a challenge that held for several humming seconds before he relaxed. The smaller man was terrified, but he was thinking of Liz. “Neither do I. I’m going to see nothing does.”

  “You brought trouble.”

  “I know.” His gaze shifted beyond Luis to Liz. “But if I leave, the trouble doesn’t.”

  For the first time, Luis forced himself to study Jonas’s face. After a moment, he blew out a long breath. “I liked your brother, but I think it was him who brought trouble.”