“Brian,” She whispered a plea, though his fingers now covered hers; containing them above the thunderous beat of his heart—a rhythm that was in time with her pulse.
Bolts of anticipation traveled up her arm, a current of stimulation that had her hand shaking beneath his grip.
From the dark came his gravelly voice. “If you’re going to keep doing that, then I want you to touch me, not my shirt.”
A tiny whimper bubbled up in Emily’s throat. She wasn’t even aware that Brian had released her and that her hand now nestled unrestricted against warm flesh and a light dusting of hair.
In the deepest hours of the night, darkness took on a palpable form. Behind her, the filtered light cast beguiling glimpses of his long body, but what she couldn’t see, she could feel. Of their own volition, her fingers expanded, toying with that curly hair, drawing indolent patterns in the masculine texture.
Brian’s stillness emboldened her. Her caress extended. She crossed a plane of solid muscle, the iron surface a reminder of the strength inside this powerful man’s body.
Brian shifted, and Emily froze.
“Don’t stop, Em.” His voice was soft and husky, a tone that sent an erotic tickle down her spine.
“No, I’m not going to do this. I was having nightmares—but I’m awake now.”
His hand reached from the dark to brush her lips and silence her. “I want you awake. I want you awake and coherent when you touch me.” Coarse fingertips slid down her jaw to trace the arch of her throat. “You touched me in the hospital. You thought I was asleep, but I remember it all Emily. I remember how your fingers felt. So soft, so curious. You made me heal because I wanted you so damn much.”
Emily leaned into his hand, which curved around the back of her neck. It tugged ever so slightly till her lips felt the warmth of his breath.
But he didn’t kiss her. He held her so close to temptation that she nearly sobbed with need.
Emily wanted that kiss. She wanted it so bad her body quivered against the solid length of him. Yet the tender restraint of his hand was just enough to prevent that union.
“You—you don’t want—?”
She felt rather than heard the low chuckle in his chest. “Oh I want, believe me, I want. But not like this. You’re hurting, Em.” His grip gentled and his fingers delved into her hair, stroking the silken strands. “I’m a light sleeper. I know you’ve been up all night. I know you’re worried about your brother. And I know sex would be a great outlet for you right now.”
Brian’s hand dropped. “What I don’t know is why I’m not taking advantage of that.” Above his sweater he reached to cover her hand, and whispered roughly. “Just keep touching me, Angel. I’ll try to be strong.”
The exploration of warm male flesh left her in a state of rapture, a cocoon from the direness of her life. Brian was offering her this comfort, he was offering her an avenue to heal, and in the dark Victorian room, a very feminine smile played across her lips.
Under her hand she felt the sinewy muscles contract as Brian stretched and settled back against the pillow. She roamed his rugged physique, massaging hills of muscles and valleys of taught warm flesh. This terrain was a feat of nature. God had to have been smiling the day he produced Brian Morrison.
Heat began to pool low in her body, a sensual bath. Outside, the trees rustled in the crisp winter wind, but inside the warmth enveloped her in its sultry veil.
Brian. Make the night go away.
God help him. He wanted to be strong. He knew that Emily’s ardor was based on emotional exhaustion. Perhaps he could have stayed in control. Perhaps he could have ignored the soft feminine figure splayed against him, or the roaming fingers that erotically toyed with his chest. Maybe he could have even disregarded the whispered breath against his throat, so close that he only had to tip his head to possess her mouth.
But there was no defense against the searing wrench of passion that was his name.
Brian.
In one word Emily tortured him with promises of emotions he had never before permitted himself.
“Emily,” His voice was hoarse, “honey, if those fingers of yours go any lower,”
His warning jolted her and her hand snapped back as if she had sliced it on glass.
Light from the porch seeped through the moth holes of the yellowed shades, tiny shards of silver scoring the divine goddess beside him. She was trembling again, literally rocking back and forth on the bed in an attempt to soothe herself, her hands now wrapped around her knees.
CHAPTER X
Emily blinked several times, climbing back to coherence. “Okay,” She breathed. “Brian, I—”
On the nightstand, the phone rang. Her body jerked at the sound and even Brian, who always exhibited control seemed startled by the invasion.
“Only one person knows we’re here.” Easing across her thigh, Brian reached for the antique brass receiver and managed a gruff, “Yeah,”
“Sounds like I caught you at a bad time.” Phil’s cheerful voice boomed unnaturally loud. So much so, that Brian held the earpiece away for a second.
In that brief pause he glanced at the woman quaking beside him and reached with his free hand to slide it down her arm.
“Yeah, that would be a big affirmative.”
“Well rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty. I’m two blocks away, sporting a lovely two-tone brown Impala.”
“And the neighborhood?”
“I’ve been parked here for nearly two hours, just to be safe. No signs of the Goon Squad.”
“Good, but they are tracing you. This has to be our last communication for awhile.”
He couldn’t stop his palm from roaming that soft skin. Brian cleared his throat. “What time is it?”
The rustle of a heavy parka sounded over the phone. “Almost six. How’s the hostage? Behaving?”
Light had begun to filter through their haven, subtle enough that it was almost an afterthought. In that glow, her eyes opened and locked on his.
“Like an angel.” Brian said thickly.
“And the missing engineer—any word?”
“He called, but we still don’t know where he’s at.”
Emily’s eyes widened at the reference to her brother. She struggled to sit up, but Brian gentled her with another touch.
“Look, give us ten minutes. Which way do we head?”
“South, two blocks, I’m on the corner.” A wicked laugh wove into Phil’s voice. “So come on, tell me what I interrupted. Give me something here. I’ve been sitting alone in the dark for two hours with nothing to occupy my time but a repeat of Mike and the Mad Dog on the radio.”
“We were sleeping, Philip.” Brian grinned. “Just sleeping.” He leaned across Emily, ready to hang up the phone. “See you in ten.”
He dropped the receiver and took her mouth in an urgent kiss, a tempting reminder that he had not forgotten where they left off last night. Reaching behind her neck, he gently lifted her from the pillow and deeper into his kiss. Her lips parted in warm invitation and she reached up, trying to pull him back down, making mewling sounds of protest and passion. Brian growled his frustration and withdrew.
“We have ten minutes.” He said. “This is unfinished business between us. Business I want us to complete.”
A pink glow flooded the guestroom, the dusky rose hue matching the warm blush on Emily’s cheeks. “Where is,” She coughed at the hoarseness in her voice. Using her elbows, Emily hoisted herself off the mattress. “Where is your friend? Did he—”
The way her eyes traced him made Brian seriously consider forfeiting a shower in favor of ten more minutes in bed with her.
“Did he get a car—is it safe?” Emily persisted as she swung her legs off the bed.
Is it safe? Come on, Morrison. He had to concentrate now. His angel was a fugitive. If he found her brother, if he stopped Barcuda—then, and only then would he address what she had done, and stop to consider what their fate together might be. For now, it was a ma
tter of resorting to old skills to protect her.
“As safe as anything can be. Now who gets the shower first,” He cocked an eyebrow, “or shall we share?”
In the blossoming sunlight, Emily’s tawny hair was aglow and lusciously tousled. She still looked sleepy, and he could easily envision her waking up naked, engaged in a languorous stretch with the beatific smile of a woman recently made love to.
Instead, Emily swept a hand up to conceal her loud yawn, as those dusky eyes stared at him alluringly.
“I don’t think so.”
Brian grinned. “You know what, Emily?”
“What?”
“This is entirely off the record.”
She nodded.
“I’m glad I caught you.”
Emily smirked. “Don’t be so cocky, Morrison.”
She approached on never-ending legs, till she stood a foot away. The exotic color of the tropics flashed in her eyes. “You don’t know where the pen drive is, do you?”
Brian’s jaw slipped a notch and his gaze narrowed. Slow in coming, a grin tugged returned to his lips. “No. Not yet. But I’m all up for doing a body search.”
All traces of the radiators that provided Edelweiss with heat were dispelled in a matter of seconds by the frigid mist of a January dawn. Emily’s hair, still damp from the hasty shower, felt like a wig full of icicles. She flipped up her collar for feeble protection, but the breeze still licked her throat.
Beside her, Brian’s breath steamed a cloud around him. His entire demeanor radically changed from the sensual creature in that room. This man bore the intensity of a hawk—the single-minded focus of a predator. It was hard to even imagine that not less than fifteen minutes ago she lay beside him, sheltered in the heat of his body, wishing that she could ignore everything for and drown in his kiss.
A rogue spell of heat rushed to Emily’s cheeks, but the crackling sound of frosted grass beneath her boots abated it. Edgy, she scanned the empty street, waiting for that black van to screech up to the curb—for its doors to slide open and draw her into the yawning cavity and whisk her off, never to be seen again.
“You still with me?” Brian uttered brusquely.
His stride was so long she had to jog a few steps to keep up. “Like glue.”
He hesitated and reached out to cup her arm.
“It’ll be all right, Em. Phil will have staked out the area.” He seemed to read her thoughts. “They’re not here, okay?”
She nodded into her high collar and felt the sting of the wind in her eyes. A dog barked from behind a fence making her edgy enough to miss the step off the curb, but Brian’s hand was there in support.
“Okay,” She replied, unconvinced.
Until Colin was safe she would take nothing for granted. Not even the soft assurances of a man she nearly made love to.
“Up there,” He pointed to the Impala, its windows misted up. A gloved palm could be discerned rubbing out a viewfinder in the condensation from inside.
“Yeah, Philip,” Brian growled, “totally inconspicuous.”
His grip on her arm constricted. “Stay alert, Em.”
Hah. Vigilance was a newfound trait that she seemed short of ironing out. If she had been alert she would have known that she was being followed that icy night on Route One.
But she was a quick study.
In her periphery, Emily caught the motion of Brian extracting his gun, nestling it to his chest behind the lapel of his jacket. When they crossed the street she mechanically fell in behind him, and then watched nervously as he wrapped his knuckles against the window, waiting for the glass to slide down an inch.
“What’s the password?” Came the muffled voice, but Emily couldn’t see within that shadowed crack.
“The password is I’m going to kick your ass if you don’t unlock the back door.”
“Bingo.” A shuffle, and then the unmistakable click of the lock.
Brian yanked the squealing panel open and gave Emily a perfunctory nod. “It’s okay, get in.”
He must have read the doubt in her eyes. “Do you want the front seat?”
She gave him a skeptical look and shoved onto the back seat. The deadening slam of the door set her to trembling, but the scent of coffee and oil-battered donuts didn’t seem like an intimidating one. Mixed with the aroma was pungent but pleasant cologne on the man up front. She sneezed.
A flash of light invaded the car as Brian’s long body ducked into the front seat. His arm draped across the seatback and his eyes locked with hers.
The sharp smells and the despondency of the moment suspended when Brian looked at her. She felt naked, nearly aroused by the appraisal. She had every right to be wary of Brian Morrison, but the woman inside responded to the tender touch of his hand as he reached behind the seat to brush his knuckles over hers.
“Any need to stick around or can I get out of here?” Phil swiped the back of his glove against his mouth and left a trail of powdered sugar.
“We’ve got an engineer to find.” Brian offered as he gave her one last compelling look and then swung around.
“Right.” A thin red hairline tipped back, and Emily was absorbed by a verdant stare in the rear view mirror. “Aren’t you going to introduce me, Morrison?”
Brian’s profile pulled back into a smirk. “Philip Pulkowski, meet one of NMD’s most venerable manufacturing engineers, Emily Brennan.”
“Miss Brennan.” Thick lips puckered in awe and then settled into a wide beam.
It was impossible not to respond to that genuine grin. It was a welcome diversion in a sea of anxiety.
Emily returned the gesture. “Mr. Pulkowski, thank you for doing this.”
“Oh heck, my pleasure. Wasn’t doing much this morning anyway.” Philip swiveled his colorful hair in Brian’s direction. “I can see why we’re abetting our thief.”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it abetting, Pulkowski.” Brian injected.
“And I wouldn’t exactly call me a thief.” Emily clarified.
Phil tossed his copilot a wide-mouthed grin. “Let me guess, you’re still peeved that she got away from you that night we caught her on tape.”
Emily’s fingers curled around the edge of the bench seat. She leaned forward in anticipation of Brian’s answer.
He brooded a moment, his eyes trained on the windshield. “I had everything under control.”
Emily snorted and relaxed into the vinyl. Her punishment was the quick shift of golden eyes, an expert marksman using that glance to pin her to the seat.
“You have something to add?”
Perhaps someone else might cower under his foreboding glance, but Emily no longer saw the intimidation. She now only saw the heat.
“I could have escaped.” She challenged.
To her surprise, he smiled.
Phil took the next turn, his head tucked to search through the defrosted hole on the bottom of the windshield. “Okay, so just run all this by me, because I’m a little slow.” He glanced up at the mirror, only for a second before he shifted his attention back to the road. “So Miss Brennan here stole property from NMD and now there’s a manhunt out for her?” A bushy red eyebrow cocked in anticipation.
Brian gave a terse nod, but his stare was focused on the vaporous mist that blanketed the crisp front lawns.
“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Phil continued. “But you and I are NMD’s security officers, are we not?”
Brian’s hand rose and then settled on the pain throbbing beneath his drying hairline.
“And Barcuda got involved because?”
“Because,” Amber swords converged on the driver. “I didn’t bring her back in time.”
Brian didn’t see it, but Emily witnessed the secreted grin on Phil’s lips as he turned to look out the driver side window. The plump redhead was baiting Brian Morrison.
“And that was because?”
“I wrapped myself around a tree for Christ’s sake!”
“Well all-righty then.” The car
idled at a four-way stop sign. “And the missing engineer that Barcuda is all hot under the collar about?”
“My brother.” Emily tipped forward, the words torn from a scratchy throat.
His sympathetic gaze locked on hers in the mirror. “Ah, that explains a lot.”
“Yeah, for me too.” Brian grumbled.
“Okay, last shot—this one you have to field, Morrison.”
“Yeah,”
“Why are we running from Barcuda? Why haven’t you just turned over our venerable engineer?”
Except for the crunch of ice stuck in the undercarriage of the car as they hit a pothole, the Impala’s interior was silent. Emily listened to the distant beep of a garbage truck.
Gradually, Brian’s head turned, the line of his jaw stark, with a muscle pumping down his neck. His glance seized Emily, and she felt a shiver of fear run down her spine. That gaze dropped to her lips, lingered, and then swept up again.
“Because,” Brian began gruffly, holding her stare. “I won’t let Emily or her brother fall into his hands.” Those eyes grew darker. “Because—”
It was impossible to breathe. Every nerve in her body awaited the end of that sentence, trying to fill in the blanks.
She blinked to break herself from Brian’s trance. Was her mind so traumatized that she was fantasizing about a relationship with the man assigned to bring her to justice?
Brian seemed to be a righteous man, she thought. Initially he sought her and Colin with the intention of hauling them into NMD for reckoning. Now he apparently saw through Barcuda’s corruption.
His voice came out husky. “Because she deserves so much better than that. Because she—”
The silence ticked seconds off the clock, till the driver shifted restlessly.
“Okay then,” Phil cleared his throat. “That just clears it right up.” He tried to draw a glare from Brian, and then tipped his head to look back at Emily. “Yeah, well, all right, let’s get you two on your way, shall we?”
Emily wrenched from Brian’s stare. She wanted to tear open the door and launch into the snow—to run to a place where his tempting eyes couldn’t find her. She was scared. Scared of this unbalance, and scared of the predicament of having feelings for him.
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