Hawk saw the drift, all right. It was making his brain turn fevered. He’d been handling her with kid gloves ever since her near miscarriage and the awful hours that followed in the hospital. Over the last weeks he had done nothing more than kiss her—no matter how much he wanted to do more.
“So you mean. . . .” He slid his fingers into her hair. “We could go somewhere and fool around.”
“Forget fooling around. I’m planning on wet, delirious sex. I want you inside me, Lieutenant.” She moved into his arms, her hands sliding into his back pockets so that she could pull him suggestively against her thighs. “And barking would definitely be involved.”
Hawk slanted a look up to the sky.
Thank you, God, he thought.
The day he wouldn’t want this woman was the day he would be stone cold dead. But some instinct of worry still lingered, making him pull away gently. “Maybe today isn’t such a good time, honey. Summer and Dutch are waiting for you. Something about roses for the backyard, they said.”
Jess stood staring at him, a frown crossing her forehead. Then she turned and strode into the house, her face thunderous.
Hawk stabbed a hand through his hair and wondered what the heck he’d done wrong this time.
“Stop handling me.”
Jess glared at Summer and Dutch, who were bent over a gardening catalog on the back porch. “I won’t break. I won’t fall apart. I had a near-miss with the baby, but I’m fine.” She reached across the table and grabbed the catalog, flipping it shut. “You two are both dear and close to me, but you’re not my keepers, understand? And just so you heard me clearly, I’m disgustingly healthy, all systems go. Doc Wilson gave me the official news today.”
Summer cleared her throat.
Dutch whistled softly beneath his breath.
“I mean it, you two. Back off. And lay off Hawk, too. Stop warning him that he has to treat me like expensive crystal or I’ll shatter.”
“We never said—”
“Yes, you did. And just for the record, we’re getting married sooner than you expected. If you’re very good, you’ll both be invited to the wedding.”
“You are?” Summer sat up straighter.
“We will?” Dutch said.
Jess glared at Summer, said a rude word, and stormed out.
He couldn’t find her anywhere.
She wasn’t in the kitchen. She wasn’t in the backyard, dozing in the red hammock he’d bought for her.
She wasn’t even shmoozing with the guests out on the sunny patio.
Starting to get worried, Hawk sprinted up the stairs to the little apartment they shared at the back of the top floor, courtesy of Dutch.
They had finally agreed on a date for the wedding. They had even started to discuss the guest list. Jess wanted three people. Hawk had about two hundred Navy buddies and family friends that he couldn’t wait to introduce her to.
He grinned, wondering if he had lost his mind.
More than likely.
If so, it was the best thing that had ever happened to him.
He pushed open the door of their room. “Jess? Honey, are you—” His breath cut off in a harsh rush of surprise.
She was standing in the middle of the rug, smiling at him in a hot-pink thong and not a stitch else. “Yes?”
“I—” He cleared his throat. “That is, you weren’t—” He heard noises down the hall and kicked the door shut with his foot. “Damn it, Jess, you can’t stand there wearing a few pink ribbons.”
“Why not?” She bent down and picked up her sunhat, giving him a brain-scalding view of her perfect legs and nearly naked butt. “What’s wrong with being comfortable?” She stretched slowly, in the process presenting a spectacular display of full, round breasts.
Saliva backed up in Hawk’s throat and he made a manful effort not to look. “Because. . . .” He didn’t have a single sane answer to give.
“There was one funny thing I found out today. One of my scars from that day in the shed is completely gone. And Doc Wilson said my last ultrasound showed that my appendix might be starting to grow back. He said it happens sometimes, but that it was still kind of unusual.”
Hawk made a note to check with the medical geeks at the secret Walter Reed lab where he got his meds. The lab happened to be the same place where Princess was living the high life these days, well fed and lovingly tended by round-the-clock experts. Hawk wondered if Jess’s contact with the bear when she was wounded in the shed may have had some subtle physical effects. Blood or saliva mix, resulting in some kind of genetic transfer?
Hell if he knew. He was a SEAL, not an egghead. But the reason Princess was so valuable was her amazing ability to heal wounds and regrow all her major organs. Which meant that—
Hawk couldn’t focus on all the ramifications and possibilities now, not with Jess stretching, on the edge of being gloriously naked, a foot in front of him.
Still smiling, she picked up a bottle of her homemade moisturizer and rubbed some slowly over the beautiful curve of her stomach, then up over both taut coral nipples. Her body was changing week by week, and he was noting each detail with huge pride. Pretty soon she’d need to wear different clothes. Hawk couldn’t wait.
As she reached over her shoulder to stroke cream on her back he felt a heat wave tackle his brain. He was all too aware that he hadn’t touched her intimately since she’d come out of the hospital.
And now she was smiling at him, killing him brutally, and he realized he would be on his knees any second. But since he was a big, tough SEAL, retreat simply wasn’t an option. Instead, he calculated the terrain, estimated enemy reserves, and assessed his tactical options. “You want to have wet, noisy sex, is that it?”
“Could be. If you’re lucky.”
“You called me commando man. You said it that sexy way you have.” Hawk’s throat was dry, like it or not. Maybe he wasn’t such a big, tough SEAL where Jess was concerned.
“Sexy?” She ran her tongue slowly across her lips. “Who, me?”
He bit back a groan, but by God, two people could play this particular mating game. He locked the door, his eyes on her face. Slowly he pulled his damp T-shirt over his head.
Her cheeks filled with color. She watched his hands clench over straining denim.
As Hawk unsnapped the top button of his jeans, he decided that getting naked for a woman was a real kick—just as long as it was the right woman you were stripping for.
He unsnapped the next button on his jeans and heard her breath catch. She had just realized he wasn’t wearing anything underneath.
“Hawk, you’re not wearing any underwear.”
“I was in a rush this morning. I thought I might go down to the beach at dawn for an early swim, but I didn’t have time.” He didn’t tell her that his icy morning plunges were the only way he could recover after long, restless nights with her soft legs wrapped around him in sleep.
Payback would be pleasant.
Smiling calmly, he opened one more button, feeling the denim go even tighter.
His hand froze as she shot toward him, knocked him back onto the bed and straddled him in her tiny pink thong until he thought he had died and gone to Navy SEAL fantasy heaven.
“By God, I love you, Jess.” He took a hoarse breath. “No more kid gloves either.” He pulled a field knife from his pocket, slid the blade beneath the pink silk, and cut off her thong in two neat strokes. His eyes were on hers as he tossed the closed knife to the floor and lifted their bodies while he stripped off his jeans.
He kissed her slowly, wet and long with lots of tongue until she moaned his name. She was slick against his palm, warm as sunlight, and his brain was on fire. He wanted to go slow, licking his way over hot skin until he found her silky center, aroused and ready for his mouth.
Yeah, he really, really wanted to taste her until she went crazy and drove her nails into his back. It was one of his fonder fantasies.
But he was caught between her thighs and she didn’t
seem ready to let him go anywhere. He drove his body against hers, groaning when his erection nestled within her thighs, cradled high against her wet heat.
No icy swim today.
No more pale fantasies either. He was going for broke, for something they’d both never forget. There were all kinds of promises, he realized, and his body buried deep within hers had to be one of the best.
When she rose, arched her back, drove her hips down against him, Hawk felt sweat cover his brow. His hands opened on her hips, guiding her down to meet his powerful thrusts.
Decisive psychological advantage was necessary in urban combat situations, especially on complex terrain, he thought dimly.
She came in a rush, with a scream of surprise and pleasure that echoed through the room and out over the balcony.
He couldn’t fight a smile of dark, near-Neanderthal pride at his unconditional conquest of her body. When her quick, tight contractions stopped, he brought her up again, high and hard, until she dug her nails into his shoulders and screamed all over again.
When her eyes finally opened, she glared at him. Her mouth set in a mutinous line. “Proving something, Lieutenant? Like how hard and sexy you Navy guys are?”
“Could be.” The new medicine that the Navy was giving him had some seriously strange side effects, Hawk had discovered. In addition to promoting the healing of his ribs to the point where he rarely felt the pain anymore, he was starting to be able to control his body in ways that bordered on sheer voodoo.
But control had its advantages. He was enjoying every brain-jolting second of this erotic foreplay with Jess. He was still hard, pressed as far as he could go inside her when he moved his fingers, stroked her wet, silky skin, making her come all over again.
She clawed him, raising long red welts that made Hawk grin. That was his Jess, all fight and spunk.
“Now you’re starting to get me really mad.”
“Sorry to hear it, honey.”
“No you’re not.”
Hawk’s grin grew even wider. “You’re right, I’m not.” Not for one damned second. Seeing you naked, sated and happy is too amazing.
“I want you inside me. It’s been weeks,” she snapped. “I’m dying to feel you.” She reached down, her fingers wrapped around him. When they tightened, stroked his length, they squeezed most of the sanity out of his brain.
She was going to get her way any second.
“Ever notice how you’re astride my line of tactical communication?”
She licked her lips, her voice husky with desire. “Are you suggesting a large scale withdrawal, Lieutenant?”
“Like hell.” Hawk rolled over, gripped her hips, and nudged her wet folds. “Wrap your legs around me,” he said hoarsely.
When she did, Hawk groaned and drove her under him until the bed shook. Inch by inch with every thrust she crossed the silk quilt and then her hands were at the iron headboard, gripping tight. Her back arched, and their eyes met in reckless understanding.
“Do me now,” she whispered. “Do me hard, Hawk.” She gave a broken moan. “Love me. No more kid gloves—”
“I do, honey. Now and forever. As hard as I can make it, Princess. Because it looks like I’m going to be your damned captive forever, body and soul.”
He let his body drive home the final promise while their bodies met and strained, and the sex was wet and delirious, exactly like she’d said. Then he followed her home, pounding into a fathomless oblivion, as rich and dark and endless as the sea that broke just beyond their windows.
As sweat covered their flushed bodies, a fresh wind blew up from the beach, ruffling the curtains and curling around a shredded pair of hot pink thong underwear and frayed old jeans.
When their fingers linked and they began to laugh, the wind carried the sound out over the balcony, down through the sunny courtyard, all the way through the olive trees along forty miles of rugged coast beneath a turquoise sky dotted with perfect clouds.
It might as well have been forever.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Thanks for joining me and Princess on a wild ride. Both Jess and Hawk were real fighters, but Princess was pretty amazing, too.
What unusual skills.
So unusual that she may be reappearing one of these days.
If you’d like to read more about the rugged Pacific Northwest, take a look at this informative guide: Lonely Planet Pacific Northwest by Daniel Schechter (Oakland: Lonely Planet Publications, 2002), which captures the grandeur and majesty of the region, along with its quirkier corners.
If you’re fascinated by service dogs the way I am, you can get a glimpse into the canine working life in the wonderfully informative book Dogs with Jobs by Merrily Weisbord and Kim Kachanoff (New York: Pocket Books, 2000). Princess would be proud to serve in this company.
And now to Izzy.
What am I going to do with this tough charmer? The man has insinuated his way into five of my books already, starting with The Perfect Gift, followed by Going Overboard, My Spy, Hot Pursuit, and Code Name: Nanny. Will Izzy be back again?
Count on it.
Will he get a book of his own one day?
All I can say is that he’s turning out to be very tough to pin down. Stay tuned to my web site (www.christinaskye.com) for breaking news on the Izzy front! All your letters keep telling me that you love this cool operator just as much as I do.
But before Izzy finds his match, I have a new Code Name book simmering.
A heroine who has come to the end of her rope.
A tough, lonely SEAL with skills he’s just beginning to understand.
Get ready to travel west to one of my favorite places, high in the rugged mountains of Sante Fe.
Watch my web site for more details. . . .
Until then, happy reading,
about the author
* * *
Award-winning author Christina Skye lives on the western slope of the McDowell Mountains in Arizona. CODE NAME: PRINCESS is her nineteenth novel. She holds a doctorate in classical Chinese literature and has traveled ten times to the Orient. Her favorite things are desert wildflowers after a spring storm, lightning in the high country, and a good ghost story. Be sure to visit her online at www.christinaskye.com.
Also by Christina Skye
Code Name: Nanny
Hot Pursuit
My Spy
Going Overboard
2000 Kisses
Come the Dawn
Come the Night
The Black Rose
The Ruby
Available from Dell
RAVE REVIEWS FOR CHRISTINA SKYE’S
EXCITING ROMANTIC THRILLERS
CODE NAME: NANNY
“Delightful and memorable . . . another sizzling adventure romance.”
—Romance
“A fun story blending romance with intrigue. The characters are hot, and so is the book.”
—Hawthorne Press Tribune
HOT PURSUIT
“Sky has hit her stride with this delightful Navy SEAL romance. . . . A compelling story; endearing, well-developed primary characters . . . and sizzling, sensual sex scenes make Skye’s latest a romance not to be missed.”
—Booklist (starred review)
“Skye writes briskly and well. The story hums right along . . . and Skye’s descriptions of the California shoreline are marvelously evocative.”
—Pittsburgh Post-Gazette
“Entertaining, engrossing and jam-packed with action and fun, Hot Pursuit is sure to please fans of romantic suspense.”
—Romance Reviews Today
MY SPY
“A joy to read. Brilliant!”
—Joan Johnston
“Great romances and thrills are hallmarks of Christina Skye novels, and My Spy fits the pattern to a T. Ms. Skye knows how to blend romance, humor, passion and danger to give readers a thoroughly exciting read.”
—Romantic Times
“Fast, entertaining and completely satisfying.”
> —Terrie Figueroa, Romance Reviews Today
“My Spy has a place on my keeper shelf. It had characters who you so hoped would be able to overcome everything and end up together, with enough exciting action to keep you moving from chapter to chapter without a break.”
—America Online’s Romance Fiction Forum
GOING OVERBOARD
“An irresistible and wonderfully sexy romance . . . Fabulous, outrageous fun!”
—Joan Johnston
“Sam is the perfect adventure-hero romantic lead, the incredibly fit and smart Annie is his perfect match, and Izzy Teague, a Denzel Washington clone, is also on the scene, providing much-needed security.”
—Booklist
“Add this steamy, fast-paced romantic thriller with lots of laugh-out-loud humor to your must-read pile!”
—Romantic Times
More praise for CHRISTINA SKYE:
“Christina Skye always serves up the perfect mix of suspense, excitement and romance.”
—Rocky Mountain News
“Christina Skye holds you in her grasp until the very last word!”
—Romantic Times
“A master of her craft . . . Her superb storytelling and vivid characters will seduce you!”
—Virginia Henley
“Christina Skye knows what readers want.”
—ABC Worldwide News
“It’s a holiday whenever Christina Skye pens a new love story!”
—BarnesandNoble.com
“If you want a page-turner that will keep you awake all night, read Christina Skye!”
—WBLY Radio, Dayton, Ohio
“A writer of rare talents.”
—Romantic Times
“Y2K mania strikes and 2000 Kisses is the wonderful result. This is Christina Skye at her best.”
—Romantic Times on 2000 Kisses
Code Name: Princess Page 22