Dangerous Desires (23 page)

His hands dropped, cupping her rear, the heat from his skin burning through the thin gauze of her skirt. The wind whistled as it picked up, singing through the little courtyard, and he swung her into his arms, his mouth finding hers again as he carried her into the house. With a groan built on desire, he lifted her up onto the kitchen counter, sending dishes crashing in his haste, his mouth crushing hers, his need for her laid bare with his kiss. Passion rose inside her, and she gave it to him freely, wanting him as much as he wanted her.

His hand brushed against the embroidered trim on her blouse, loosening the ties that held it closed. Then his fingers dipped inside, cupping her breast, his thumb rasping against her nipple, the sensation igniting the heat between her thighs. Gasping with pleasure, she arched back, offering herself to him. And with a wicked smile, he trailed hot kisses down the slope of her breast, the soft silk of his hair adding torment to the already unbearable heat.

When his lips closed around her nipple, tugging gently, she whispered his name, urging him on. His tongue circled, sucking softly as he drew her breast farther into his mouth. Bracing herself on her elbows, she leaned back, her body responding with a fervor she hadn’t known she possessed.

Still licking and teasing her breast, he reached for the hem of her skirt, easing the gauzy cotton up her thigh. She trembled in anticipation as his fingers teased, moving higher, then higher still, until all that separated his fingers from the throbbing junction of her thighs was the soft satin of her underwear.

She held her breath as his fingers slid between her panties and her skin, circling lazily, slowly, until she
thought she might explode. Then suddenly he was there, caressing her, stroking her, sending flickers of pleasure pulsing inside her. Swallowing a cry, she arched upward, forcing his fingers deeper, and he obliged, the internal rhythm increasing as he suckled her breast.

His mouth and his hands possessed her, driving her higher and higher, until there was nothing but the feel of him burning against her, inside her. He moved down, raining kisses along the smooth skin of her abdomen, crossing the divide marked by her bunched skirt, the heat of his lips making her writhe against him.

With amazing finesse he slid down her panties, removing them, lifting her legs over his shoulders as he bent to take her in his mouth. With a soft cry, she abandoned all decency, pushing against his head, urging him on, balanced on the edge of a precipice that scared and excited her beyond anything she’d ever imagined.

His mouth found her, his tongue driving deep inside her. He tasted her, drinking her in, pulling her soul from her body into his. The darkness surrounded her, caressing her as his tongue moved in and out, in and out, driving her higher and higher, until the darkness exploded with light, and she screamed his name, reaching to hold him, to anchor herself in the spinning vortex he’d created.

She arched against him, her body vibrating under the power of his touch. And she knew suddenly that it wasn’t enough to find this heaven. She wanted more. She wanted him—inside her, needing her as much as she needed him.

Taking a shuddering breath, she pulled back, and, eyes still glazed with passion, pulled him up, wrapping her legs around him, feeling his hardness pulsing against her heat.
The sensation almost sent her over the edge again, but she knew what she wanted. She reached for the buttons on his shirt, her fingers trembling with desire as she pulled them free one by one. With a sigh of pure delight, she pushed his shirt off his shoulders, her breath catching at the sheer beauty of his hardened muscles and velvet skin.

She leaned forward, bending to kiss the edge of the bandage, her fingers gentle as she traced the line of his chest and shoulders. And then he pulled her hard against him, his mouth opening, accepting what she offered, raising the ante with the fervor of his kiss.

He pulled her off the counter, her legs still wrapped around him, tongues tangling together with need. They moved backward, into her bedroom, and after removing the rest of their clothes, he sat down on the bed, pulling her with him.

Pushing him back against the sheets, she leaned down, wanting to taste him as he’d tasted her. So she ran her tongue along the edge of one nipple, pleased when it tightened under her touch. Then she dropped her hand, first stroking the hard ridge of his stomach and then letting her fingers slip lower.

His skin was hot, and she closed her hand around his penis, stroking and squeezing, establishing a rhythm.

“Oh, God, Madeline,” he rasped, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I want you.”

“Good.” She smiled, her eyes locking with his. “Because the feeling’s mutual.” She slid slowly downward, letting her breasts cup his penis, the sensation sending white-hot heat pooling inside her. And then she moved even lower, taking him in her mouth, sucking on his velvety strength.

And then with a growl, he took control, pulling her up and flipping her beneath him, his powerful body lifting over hers. “Are you sure?” he asked, his eyes dark with passion.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” she whispered.

He smiled, and then bent to kiss her, his mouth branding her—claiming her as his. Madeline ached inside, wanting only to feel him fill her, two parts coming together to make a whole. She tipped back her head, welcoming his hands and mouth. He explored every inch of her, leaving nothing untouched, unloved. Trembling with the sheer power of the feelings he evoked, she opened to him, catching his gaze.

“Please, Drake. Now. I want you, now.”

His smile was slow and sure, and with one swift move he buried himself deep inside her, filling her with his heat. The pleasure was exquisite, and she pushed against him, taking him even deeper.

There was desire and triumph reflected in the depths of his eyes—and something else, something so tender it almost took her breath away. She lost herself then, in his strength and passion.

Eyes still locked together, they began to move, slowly, almost languorously at first, each slow thrust tormenting and delighting. Up and down, in and out, the movement creating exquisite agony. He let her set the pace, and she kept it slow, relishing the delicious torture of her own desire. Her body strained to find release, even as her mind fought to control it. And she lifted her head to brush her lips across his. His fingers twined through her hair as he pulled her to him, deepening the kiss. And with the contact, the power shifted.

He grasped her hips, forcing his own rhythm, thrusting harder and deeper, faster and faster, the friction of their bodies moving together ratcheting her need higher and higher, until she felt as if she might explode.

And still he thrust, her muscles tightening around him, holding him inside her, until she could no longer tell where he ended and she began, in a kaleidoscope of emotion and sensation that seemed beyond endurance. And yet she wanted it—needed it—more than anything she could possibly have imagined.

His hands tightened hard against her hips, and then the world exploded, combusting into feelings so intense she felt as though she might be ripped apart. Wave after wave washed through her, pleasure and pain so intricately bound that her body shook with the impact.

Then she felt his arms close around her, heard the sweet whisper of her name as he kissed her face, and she let go, allowing herself to soar, to fly, and in that moment she felt invincible. As if she’d never fall.

But deep in her heart, she knew there would be a price to pay—for only fools dared to defy gravity.

T
he first pink fingers of dawn were stretching across the sky. Madeline sat at the end of the bed watching Drake sleep. She knew she should go. Knew that it was better to make a clean break. But still she stayed, watching him breathe. She so seldom trusted anyone. It seemed odd that she felt so comfortable with a man she’d known only a few days. Maybe it was because in some ways he reminded her of herself. Guarded. Cautious. Not the sort to suffer fools lightly.

And yet, he had a confidence she’d never known. Hers was strictly bravado. But Drake was the real thing. A man’s man with a heart. A rarity for certain. And as unobtainable as the elusive gold at the end of a rainbow.

At least as far as she was concerned.

It was the captive falling for the jailer, and that was always a strategic mistake. He’d said it himself, she was just an asset. And when it came time to turn her over to
the authorities in Washington, there’d be no hesitation. Mission first, last, and always.

He might regret the fact, but he’d never shirk his duty. His honor was his life. It was part of what she admired about him. What had drawn her to him, made her open up, share herself. But now, the time had come to take care of herself. It was a cold, cruel world. And she knew better than to believe in happy endings. Instead, she’d take the memory and store it away with the others. Jenny’s laughter. Andrés’s smile. Drake’s eyes. His hands. His lips…

She shook her head, rising to her feet and turning her back. No last lingering look. It was simply too tempting to crawl back into bed—to pretend that tomorrow would bring more of the same. But it wouldn’t. It couldn’t. Drake’s bosses didn’t care about her. She was simply a means to an end. And Ortiz had already proven his determination to find and eliminate her.

Her only option was to disappear.

She slipped out of the bedroom, angry at herself for her tears. Good things happened to people who deserved them, but she wasn’t foolish enough to think that included her.
You reaped what you sowed.
It was as simple as that.

The living room was still shadowed, and she crept into the other room, retrieving one of the guns, the sat phone, and Drake’s wallet—still fat with cash. It wasn’t as if he needed it, she justified. His friends were coming. But still she felt a tug of guilt, and after tossing a couple of bills on the table, she grabbed a torn slip of paper and scribbled the word “sorry.” It wasn’t enough. But anything more and she’d be blubbering like a baby.

And for all she knew, he’d be laughing at her anyway.

A one-night stand. Probably the norm for a man like
him. Any woman would be all too happy to grace his bed. And yet, even as she had the thought she decided it did him an injustice. Drake was more than that. Or at least she wanted him to be. One thing about riding off into the sunset—or sunrise, as the case might be—she got to leave with all of her fantasies intact.

They’d carry her a long way.

Shouldering her bag, she slipped out the front door, her throat tightening as her gaze caught on the remnants of last night’s meal. It had been a perfect evening, one she’d never forget. But morning had come, bringing with it the harsh cold light of reality. So, with a determination borne of years of practice, she walked away from the hacienda without so much as a backward glance.

The market was just beginning to see signs of life, vendors arranging wares, calling out morning greetings to each other. She slipped by them, ignoring their curious stares, making her way through the little village to the harbor.

The port, like the rest of the town, was run-down, but here there was also a hint of malice, a wash of something less than savory. She squared her shoulders, asking a passing man for directions to the harbor master. His leer sent concern lancing through her, and she closed her hand on the gun in her pocket.

But she’d been stared at before. And with a haughty look she thanked him and headed for the building the stranger had indicated. The office was little more than a palm-frond shack, and she fought against trepidation as she approached the door. Inside, at first, she thought the room was empty, but then a wizened little man rose from behind the counter. His dark eyes were speculative
as he watched her approach, and she swallowed convulsively, for the first time questioning the wisdom of her decision.

It had all been so much easier knowing that Drake had her back.

Still, she’d handled herself in far more dangerous situations. And she had the advantage of a gun. Bolstering her courage and calling on every ounce of femininity she possessed, she lifted her hands and gave him a smile. “I’m sorry to intrude, but I’m afraid I need your help.”

“The office is closed,” he said, eyes narrowing as he continued to study her. His Spanish was difficult to follow, his sentences laced with Chocoan dialect. Words from the ancient language blended into the modern-day Spanish. But she was determined to persevere.

“I don’t mean to intrude so early in the day. It’s just that I’ve missed my boat,” she improvised with a smile. “I’m traveling with friends, but they weren’t interested in coming to Puerto Remo. I wanted to see the cathedral.” She tipped her head toward the massive structure perched on the rocks above them. “Anyway, I’m supposed to be meeting them in Esmeraldas this morning. In Ecuador. And I’m hoping that you might know of someone going in that direction?”

“I have no knowledge of the boat you say you missed,” he said, his expression hardening.

“It was a yacht. You can’t have missed it. American. A lovely couple. They offered me a ride from Buenaventura.” She slipped a folded wad of money into her hand. “We anchored just beyond the harbor.” She waved toward the sea, in the process displaying the money, praying that he would buy the ruse or at least let his greed override
his doubt. “Anyway, they must have assumed I’d decided to stay on. And now they’re gone. So I’m hoping that you can help me find another way out.” She opened her hands, shrugging as if in dismay, the money again openly displayed. Then she dropped her hands to the counter, waiting to see if he’d take the bait.

“It is not wise for you to travel alone.” He frowned, his eyes dropping to her hands.

“I’ll be fine,” she soothed. “I’m used to being on my own.” There was too much truth in the statement, and she winced, her thoughts winging back to Drake and the night they’d spent together. “Please,” she said, pulling her thoughts to the present. “I need your help.”

The man studied her for a moment, then took the money with a shrug. “There is a trawler leaving in a few hours. I believe it is headed for the port you seek. You’ll find it tied off of the third quay. It is called
Princesa
. The captain’s name is Valdez.”