Where There's Smoke

“Right,” he said. “You’re even willing to offer your sweet body to dirty old me.” He was staring at her thighs, wh

ere the robe had parted a few inches above her knees.

Lara said nothing and sat very still.

Abruptly he stood. “Tap in to this underground network. Gather all the information you can. Don’t discount anything. Don’t trust your memory, either; take copious notes. I want to know everything. Time of sunrise, sunset, temperature, population, the speed limit, every frigging fact you can think of. Let me be the judge of what’s significant and what isn’t. In situations like this you never know what scrap of information might mean the difference between living and dying.

“We’ll travel light. Take only one bag you can carry easily. Don’t take anything you value, nothing you couldn’t drop and run away from, literally. Keep in mind that if we’re successful, we’ll be carrying out a casket. That may be all we can handle. Questions?”

“What about the airplane?”

“I’ll arrange for it and the weapons.”

“Weapons?”

“You didn’t think I’d go to a turkey shoot without a gun, did you? Can you shoot?”

“I can learn.”

“We’ll start lessons as soon as I’ve got the guns. I’ll handle the transactions alone, but I expect to be reimbursed for all expenses.”

“Of course.”

“There’s only one condition: Don’t ask me any questions about the arms or the plane. If the feds get curious and start asking questions, you can honestly say you don’t know.”

“What will you say?”

“I’ll lie. Convincingly. When do you want to go?”

“As soon as you can get an airplane.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

Lara stood. “Thank you, Key. Thank you very much.”

He came to stand directly in front of her, his movements and speech no longer brisk. “As to my fee, does your offer still stand?”

She gazed into his dark, brilliant eyes and tried to convince herself that the weakness in her knees was caused by relief over his agreeing to make the trip, that it wasn’t a reaction to the sexual energy he radiated.

Lowering her head, she pulled apart the ends of her sash. The robe separated. She waited only a moment before peeling it from her shoulders and letting it fall onto the bed behind her.

She stood before him naked.

The silence was dense, the tension tangible. Although she wasn’t looking at him, she felt his eyes moving over her. Her skin tingled, as though his gaze were actually touching her, leaving brush strokes of heat. Breasts, belly, sex, thighs, all were touched with his eyes.

She turned warm. She grew damp. The tips of her breasts tightened and strained. Her earlobes pulsated feverishly. And somewhere deep inside her she throbbed with carnal awareness.

“Look at me.”

She raised her head.

“Say my name.”

“Key.” At first a whisper, she repeated it. “Key.”

He slid his hand around the back of her neck and lowered his head. His kiss was rough and possessive. Behind each thrust of his tongue was a hint of anger… at first. Then it seemed to be searching for something it couldn’t find. Perhaps a desire as thick as his own.

He found it. Only he never knew. Because as abruptly as it began, it ended.