And if there was a part of her that remained sceptical that she could be so clinical, well, she wasn’t about to let it have a voice.
* * *
Kane used his body to pin Mattie to the wall of the hotel room the instant they tumbled inside. Her hands slid down to his backside to pull him to her, the hardest part of him against the softest part of her, and they both groaned. He plundered her mouth, again and again, revelling in every greedy little sound as her lips slid, plump and perfect beneath his touch, and her tongue scraped over his, making wordless demands of her own.
He scarcely remembered taking her hand and leading her out of that nightclub, or the way he’d had to fight with every inch of his self-control to keep his hands—and his mouth—off that lush body of hers long enough to get to them the closest hotel. One of only a couple in town, and hardly the kind of five-star resort spa to which she was probably accustomed.
But it was clean, and close. Most importantly, it had a bed.
She tugged at his shirt, hauling it roughly over his head as his fingers worked the zip at the back of her dress, then he stepped back long enough to slide it from her shoulders and let it fall, like a shimmering waterfall, to pool at her feet. Then, as she stood there in a lacy whisper of a bra and matching thong, and a pair of the sexiest heels he thought he’d ever seen, her eyes black with desire, she reached out and cupped him through his trousers.
It was all Kane could do to keept himself in check. He had no intention of embarrassing himself at the door of the hotel room.
It was years since he’d felt this out of control. Fourteen years, to be exact. The realisation should have impacted on him, but it barely registered. He had Mattie back in his arms—something he would never have believed even possible twenty-four hours ago—and right now absolutely nothing else mattered.
He pressed against her again, needing to feel her breasts against his chest, her legs wrapping around his waist. And Mattie—his Mattie—was only too obliging. He didn’t dare speak, not convinced that his brain could even form a coherent sentence right at this moment, but it didn’t matter. Words weren’t necessary.
She tasted of magic. Black magic. Her light perfume—incredibly, the same one he’d bought her as a teenager—was utterly intoxicating. And it was doing...things to him.
Sliding his hands down her body, Kane fought to take his time reacquainting himself with her sensual curves. Touching, tasting, teasing. When she dropped her hand between them, cupping him and making him feel like he was going to go off at any moment, he caught her wrist in his fingers and lifted it to pin both her hands above her head.
‘Kinky,’ she teased, so that he could feel the curve of her mouth against his lips.
‘Not especially,’ he murmured. ‘But if that’s what you’re after, I’m sure I could tie you to the bed whilst I lick you until you scream my name.’
Which wasn’t necessarily a bad idea, Kane thought as Mattie sucked in a soft breath at the mere idea. Especially as he felt like some randy teenager again and wasn’t entirely convinced he’d last too long once he slid inside her.
Matz. Mattie. His Mathilda.
This wasn’t some random attraction. An unexpected opportunity presenting itself. This felt like coming home. The sensati
on moved within him as though it had been cramped up in some tiny hole for far too long, and was only now awakening from its long, self-imposed hibernation. It was stretching out, it was reaching into every corner of his being, and it was settling there as though this—here, with Mattie—was the way it was always meant to have been.
He unhooked her bra, slipping it from her, and then he bent his head to draw one perfect nipple into his mouth. Mattie gasped, arching her back, and he drew whorls over her soft skin with his tongue, up and around, taking his time, while she laced her fingers through his hair and made the sweetest sounds. And then, when he was satisfied on one side, he turned his attentions to the other.
‘Kane,’ she muttered at length. The undisguised need in her voice playing havoc with his self-control.
Slowly he lifted his head from her breast and began to make his way lower, trailing kisses down her stomach, over the creamy swell of her abdomen and lower still, until he could smell the sweet scent that was essentially her. And it drove him half-crazy.
Without even bothering to remove that whisper of lace, he reached down and traced her swollen, molten core. Her legs quivered instantly, and Kane loved it that she couldn’t even begin to disguise her reactions to him, even as he was barely capable of reining himself in. Still, he made himself take his time, letting his calloused palms graze up the back of those smooth, shapely calves.
‘Old bullet wound,’ she muttered, when his fingers slowed over a long, thick, welt of a scar.
His heart stilled, caught in the crosshairs of a memory so vivid that it almost knocked him backwards. For a moment he could hear the firefight. Smell that distinct odour. Taste the sand in his mouth and his nose.
And then he squeezed his eyes closed and it was gone. He was back in the hotel room with Mattie, and that was all that mattered. He concentrated on her leg, stroking the scar almost reverently.
‘Is that so?’ he asked. ‘Another round and you could have been killed. Makes you a hero.’
‘No, I’m definitely not a hero,’ she bit out harshly, despite her ragged breathing. ‘We were retrieving a couple of casualties from a previously deserted village. I just got clipped getting on a heli. It was the guys who covered us in the firefight who were the real heroes.’
Kane didn’t answer. At least, not with words. Instead he lifted her leg and kissed the scar. One day he would tell her the truth. That he’d been one of the guys in that village, in that firefight. Their two buddies dying in front of them and no one wanting to risk coming in so close to the enemy and during the back end of a sandstorm.
And then the heli had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and Mattie had jumped out of the back like some kind of angel.
She’d saved more than just the casualties’ lives that day.
One day, he would tell her. Just not today.