“I forgot I was dealing with an FBI agent.”
“I’ll try to be more gentle.” She ran her tongue along his bottom lip to soothe the hurt, then pressed her mouth fully to his.
He did stumble then, nearly dropping to his knees on the top step of the staircase. He tasted hunger. His? Hers? It was so huge and filled him so completely that he forgot to breathe, forgot he needed to. When he drew back, his heart was pounding, his mind spinning, his vision hazy. He had to check and make sure where the bed was. And it took every ounce of his control to lay her on it and then settle himself at her side.
She reached for him, but he captured her wrists with one of his hands and held them above her head. “We have time, Curls. Let’s take it. Do you know how long I’ve wanted you here in my bed?”
“No.”
The moment he felt her wrists relax, he released them to run his fingers through her hair. “Ever since that day I saw you standing there in your office. I pictured you lying here with just the moonlight on your skin. And I thought of touching you.”
She said nothing, merely watched him as he traced the curve of her cheek, the line of her jaw. But she began to tremble. And when he brushed a finger over the pulse at her throat it quickened. But he didn’t dare kiss her again. Not yet.
“I wanted you naked from that first day.” He began with her T-shirt, then her bra. It was plain and white and incredibly arousing. More arousing was the fact that each time his hands made contact with her skin, her breath caught and a new tremor moved through her.
“Your shoulders. So smooth and strong.” He ran his hands lightly over them. Then he traced just the tip of his finger along the tops of both breasts. “And your skin is so soft right here.”
And then because he simply couldn’t help himself, he cupped each breast in his hands. “Just right.” This time when she trembled, so did he.
As he fumbled with the clasp of her slacks, she tried to help him, but he brushed her hands away. Then he pleasured them both by drawing her slacks down her legs inch by inch and tracing the path of the flesh he exposed with his mouth. Her flavors, her scents, her textures enticed him, entranced him. And still his hunger for her grew.
He’d told her nothing but the truth. He’d dreamed of having her here in his bed from that very first time their eyes met. But he couldn’t have known what the reality would be. There was so much to discover. Slowly, he eased her slacks down her legs, pausing to touch, then taste the newly exposed skin. Her pulse beat at the back of her knees. He lingered there to sample, to exploit. To savor. And her ankles—they were so slender and nearly as fragile as her wrists.
No, he couldn’t possibly have imagined what the reality would be, nor what it would do to his system to hear her breath catch and release, catch and release.
How could he have known that in seducing her, she would so thoroughly seduce him?
She was sinking so fast. Her vision had blurred. Far away she could hear music. The sound thrummed quietly in her head as it blended with her sighs and the slowly quickening beat of her blood.
He’d showed her strength before. But this was different. Each brush of his finger, each scrape of his nail and flick of his tongue had her plunging deeper and deeper into a place where the air was too thick to breathe. Nothing had ever been like this. Pleasure had never been so intense. Needs had never been so huge. All she could feel was him. All she knew was him.
And then suddenly, he was gone.
“Gabe?” She opened her eyes and saw that he was getting out of his clothes. She held out a hand. “Come back. I want you. Now.”
“First I need to do this.” He knelt, straddling her as he stretched her arms out to the sides and linked his fingers with hers. Then he lowered his body to cover hers.
Finally they were flesh to flesh, eye to eye. Her fingers gripped his hard when he made a place for himself between her legs and she wrapped hers around him.
“Mine,” she said.
“Mine,” he agreed. Forever.
He slipped into her then and it was as if their bodies had never been apart. Though it took all of his control, he kept the rhythm slow. As he spun the moment out, the knowledge settled in his heart that this was where he belonged, where he wanted to be. And when her eyes clouded, when she arched against him and cried out, he was helpless to do anything but follow.
15
COFFEE.
Nicola firmly reminded herself of her goal when she stopped halfway down the circular staircase. She’d borrowed Gabe’s robe and wrapped a towel turban-style around her hair. But she was tempted to discard both and go back up to the bathroom and jump Gabe. He was shaving. But he’d distracted her when she was showering, and turnabout was fair play.Coffee, first. She glanced at her watch—nearly 9:00 a.m. She usually had her first shot of caffeine at 6:00 a.m. And they had a job to do. It was the practical Nicola who descended the rest of the stairs. But it was a different Nicola who did a little dance step on her way to the one-cup coffeemaker she’s spotted among the gadgets on Gabe’s counter.
As she made the coffee, she caught herself humming. And she never hummed. Nor did she begin her days with little dance steps. But she’d never before spent a night like the one she’d spent with Gabe.
A girl had to celebrate some way.
She was about to take her first sip when she caught the movement out of the corner of her eye. Then she nearly dropped her mug as two men stepped out of the elevator and into the room.
For an instant, all three of them froze as if someone had pushed the Pause button.
The only thing that got her heart pumping again was that she recognized one of them. Nash Fortune. It was little wonder that the man had been Marcia’s selection as bachelor number one. In addition to a healthy inheritance from his grandmother, he had blond hair, handsome features, and a tall, lean body that looked as good in a uniform as it might have looked on a surfboard.
“Nicola.” Nash was the first to move and he smiled as he reached her. “What a pleasure to see you again.”
She could have hugged him for pretending not to notice that she was barefoot and wearing Gabe’s robe.
“Coffee,” the other man said as he dropped two bulging fast food bags on the counter and then circled it to commandeer the second mug that was filling in the small coffeemaker.
He had to be Jonah Stone. It had been fifteen years since she’d seen him, but the eyes were still that bottle-green color, and the dark, rough-edged good looks she’d seen in the boy had come to full fruition in the man.
He turned to smile at her. “Good thing I take this stuff black because Gabe is a real Mother Hubbard when it comes to filling up the larder. I’m Jonah, but the way. And help yourself to the food.” He jerked a shoulder at Nash. “I brought plenty because pretty boy here only had girly food on his plane when he picked me up in San Francisco. Caviar, pâté, champagne.”
“I don’t stock my plane to please you, Jonah,” Nash said as he opened one of the bags and began to divide it into four piles. “And you serve plenty of fancy food at your nightclubs.”
Nicola took a deep swallow of coffee. “I’ll just go up and tell Gabe you’re here.”
“No need.” With one smooth move, Jonah blocked access to the stairs and motioned her toward a stool. “Take a load off. I texted him we were coming.”
Nash took the mug from her and replaced it with a breakfast sandwich. “Of course, Jonah also told him that we’d ring and let him know when we arrived. But he has this deep-rooted need to show off, so he had to get through the security system without setting off any alarms.”
“You helped,” Jonah said as he bit into a french fry. “And I want Gabe to know that I’m still his best student.”
Wary but oddly charmed by the two men, Nicola climbed onto a stool and retrieved her coffee.
“So what’s up between you and Gabe?” Jonah asked.
Nicola tensed.
Nash sent her a rueful look. “You’ll have to forgive Jonah. He’s rude. What he’s trying to ask is how long have you and Gabe been seeing each other?”
Nicola looked from one man to the other. “Jonah’s question is more direct, and you look like two very smart men. I think you’ve figured out what’s up.”
They exchanged a look.
“She’s smart, too,” Jonah said.
“Holds her own,” Nash added.
Then Jonah took the lead again. “What we’re really wondering is what your intentions are.”
“My intentions? You…you can’t be serious.”
“We think of Gabe as family,” Nash explained.
“Are you just toying with our friend’s affections?” Jonah asked.
“Toying with…” She set her mug down hard enough to slosh coffee. “That’s…none of your business.”
“Good answer,” Nash said to Jonah. “Puts you right in your place.”
“She has a bit of a temper, too.” Jonah bit into his sandwich. “I can see why Gabe would like that.”
Nicola narrowed her eyes. “Why don’t you run a background check on me?”
“I already did,” Jonah said. “Just as soon as Gabe said the two of you were working together.”
She looked from one to the other as she tamped down on her temper. “Look, the two of you didn’t like me much fifteen years ago, but if you—”