Surrender in Silk (13 page)

He smiled and said again, “My pleasure.”

“I think the pleasure is mutual.”

“Yeah?”

“It would be if you’d stop talking.”

“When’d you get to be so bossy?”

“Zach!”

“Okay, I’ll be quiet.”

He was as good as his word. He sank into her again and withdrew. Over and over until her body began to collect itself for another release. She tried to watch his face, wanting to see when he was near his climax, but she couldn’t concentrate on anything but the feelings between her thighs. He filled her completely and left her no option but to follow him into an ecstasy that left them clinging together in an aftermath of fire.

Zach woke sometime after midnight. He felt rested and figured he’d probably been asleep for nearly seven hours. A two-mile jog and hot sex were a powerful combination.

He shifted so he could face Jamie. Moonlight streamed in
through the window above the bed; otherwise, the room was dark. Her blond hair spread over the pillow. He touched one strand, rubbing it between his fingers—silk, so damn soft, just like her skin.

He could make out her high cheekbone and the shape of her mouth. The rest of her features were lost in shadow. But he knew everything about her. The muscles defining her arms, the sweep of her ribs and narrow waist, the jut of her hipbones, the power of her legs. She’d changed a lot in the past seven years, yet he could still recognize her in the dark.

He inhaled, smelling the combined scent of their bodies and the musky fragrance of sex. Just thinking about what they’d done made him want her again. Desire stirred between his legs. It would be easy to part her thighs and enter her again. She wouldn’t protest.

But he didn’t. He would rather watch her sleep, at least for now.

He slowed his breathing so she couldn’t know he was awake. But Jamie was one of the best field agents. She sensed his attention and opened her eyes. A smile hovered uncertainly at the corner of her mouth, as if she wasn’t sure what her reception would be.

Unfamiliar feelings threatened. He wanted to tell her it was going to be all right. Yet he knew that wasn’t true. Whatever Jamie had come looking for, he wasn’t the person to provide it. If he kept up the emotional facade of being available for her, he was bound to hurt her. Logically he should tell her that right now. But he couldn’t. He needed this, too.

He picked up her hand and kissed her palm. Her breath caught, then she smiled.

He’d seen her smile dozens of times, maybe hundreds. This one caught him like a sucker punch to the stomach. Pain flared, and with it, vulnerability.

“How long have we been asleep?” she asked.

“Too long. I’m starved.”

“Me, too.”

He got out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans. She stood up, then glanced around for clothes. Hers were in the other room. He thought about the skirt and blouse she’d had on. They’d been all wrong for her. Acting on impulse, he opened the wardrobe and snagged one of his cotton long-sleeved shirts. He tossed it to her.

When she caught it, she glanced at him. “An interesting kind of bathrobe.”

“Humor me. I want to look at your legs.”

It was too dark for him to see what she was thinking, but he hoped she blushed.

Together they walked into the kitchen, flipping on lights as they went. The clock on the wall showed the time to be nearly one-thirty—their usual hour for restlessness. But instead of escaping to the porch or wanting to be alone, Zach was content to spend time with Jamie.

While he started coffee, she opened the refrigerator. “We’ve got some defrosted steaks, potatoes, vegetables.”

“Too heavy,” he said.

“How about eggs and toast?”

“Perfect.”

He clicked on the coffeepot, then reached for the carton of eggs.

“I’ll cook,” she said. “You go sit down. This kitchen is too small for both of us.”

He allowed her to push him into a chair at the small dinette. Watching her work was hardly a hardship. The tails of his shirt fell to midthigh on her, but the sides exposed her legs nearly to her hips. She moved with the easy grace of a dancer; her breasts swayed against the cotton shirt.

Passing time had left her more comfortable with her body. He remembered the first time she’d cooked for him in his kitchen. She’d been wearing a nightshirt and nothing else. She’d spent the whole time tugging at the short hem.

So much had changed, yet one thing remained the same—the heat they generated in bed.

“Scrambled okay?” she asked as she pulled eggs out of the refrigerator.

“Great.”

She cracked several into a bowl, then whipped them with a fork. Her movements were smooth and practiced.

“Do you cook much?” he asked.

“Almost never. It’s impossible on assignment, and when I’m home, it doesn’t seem worth it to cook for just me.”

An uncomfortable thought occurred to him. “There’s no one else?”

She looked up. Her hazel eyes were almost gray in the bright light. “A man? As in a relationship?”

He nodded.

“Zach, I wouldn’t be here with you if I was involved with someone else.”

“I know, but what about before? It’s been a long time since you and I…” He trailed off, not sure what to say about them.

She poured the egg mixture into the frying pan, then put toast into the toaster. He stood up and headed for the refrigerator. While she cooked, he set the table, adding butter and jam, coffee cups and plates.

“There have been one or two interested parties,” she admitted. “But no one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. What about you?”

“I prefer to travel light.”

He watched her and wondered if he believed what she was saying. In seven long years, she hadn’t once fallen in love? It would be easy enough to ask the question—assuming he wanted the answer. He didn’t. The fact that he didn’t want to know about the men in her past annoyed him.

The toast popped. He stuck in two more slices of bread and set the brown ones on a plate. Jamie finished the eggs and served them. They sat down together.

They’d eaten at the small table before. They were both tall, and their legs brushed. Before, he’d tried not to notice. Now he relished it. After all, they’d just made love. He’d tasted every part of her body and listened to her quiet cries of passion. They’d become intimate again, and it scared the hell out of him.

They didn’t talk while they ate. When he’d finished his eggs and was buttering his third piece of toast, he glanced at her. She sat angled toward him, one knee pulled up to her chest. She’d rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to her wrists. The extra fabric made her look fine boned and petite. He knew she was strong, but at that moment it didn’t seem possible that she’d really carried him through the desert.

“You risked your life going on a rescue mission without knowing for certain I was alive?”

She looked up at him. Her eyes widened. “I just had a feeling.”

“You risked everything for a feeling?”

“Gee, now you sound like Winston. I can’t explain it better than that. I wish I could. Remember that time, right after graduation, when we were in the jungle together?”

He nodded. He’d requested her on her first assignment because he’d known what her weakness was. He’d planned to force her to face it. Instead, the lesson had backfired. Not only had Jamie been captured, but she’d nearly been killed. If anything had happened to her, he didn’t know how he would have survived.

“I had a feeling that night before the ambush,” she continued. “When I finally mentioned it, you told me to pay attention to those feelings. You said they’d keep me alive. You were right. I’ve always listened to them. It’s weird. Sometimes I just know things.” She ducked her head. “I knew the day you were coming to the cabin. I can’t explain why, I just had a feeling.”

“Why didn’t you just convince Winston of your feeling and let him send in a team? Why just you and Rick?”

“A team had already failed. Our plan was simple.”

“You both could have been killed.”

She shrugged. “It was a risk we were willing to take.”

He slapped his palm on the table. “Why?”

“I owed you, Zach. You saved my life.”

“Bull. You paid that debt when you shot the guard in the jungle. Quit jerking me around and tell me the truth.”

Her only response to his harsh words was to smile faintly. He had to admire her guts. No one got the better of her.

“The truth is you saved my life a hundred times,” she said at last. “In every difficult situation, in every rough spot, I remembered what you’d taught me. You kept me alive. That’s why I came for you.”

He studied her face, but she was too good for him to know if she was lying. He knew there had to be more, but what? Then he decided he didn’t want to know. Better if all Jamie felt was gratitude. That he could handle. Anything else, anything emotional, would be deadly for both of them. He wouldn’t risk feeling. Not ever.

She stood up and carried their plates to the sink. “You should be grateful,” she said. “Who else cares as much about you?”

“You’re right,” he said.

She picked up a towel and wiped her hands, then turned toward him. “Now it’s my turn to ask questions. Why didn’t you make me leave?”

He didn’t want to answer that. He wasn’t sure himself and he wasn’t about to try to figure it out. Danger signs flashed in his head every time he thought about Jamie.

He looked at her bare feet, then raised his gaze higher to her legs, then her face. “Take off the shirt,” he said.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

He stood up and unbuttoned his jeans. When he pushed them off, her gaze locked on his arousal, now free, and her eyes widened.

“Zach?”

“What are you afraid of?”

Her shoulders straightened. “Nothing.”

She unfastened the buttons, then shrugged out of the shirt. It fell silently to the floor. She walked closer, until she was in front of him. He sat in the chair, spread his legs, and she moved close enough to touch.

He brushed his hands against her hips, her waist, her breasts, then lower, slipping one finger between her thighs. She was already hot and wet. He found her center and circled around it. A ripple sped through her. She grabbed his shoulder for balance.

When he raised his gaze to her face, he found her watching him. Every flicker of pleasure registered on her face. As he brought her closer, her breathing increased, but she didn’t close her eyes. It was as if she dared him to watch her climax.

He moved faster, driven by the need to see her shatter at his touch. With his free hand, he reached up and teased her hard nipples. A flush spread from her chest to her neck. Her mouth parted to draw in more air. Her whole body quivered.

She forced her eyes to stay open through the moment of fulfillment. He could see her effort. Spasms drew her mouth straight and tightened her legs around his hand. She gasped for air. He felt as if he’d seen down to her soul. The intimacy shocked him.

Before he could withdraw both physically and emotionally, she pushed his legs together, then straddled him. It happened so fast, as he entered her, he could feel the lingering aftershocks of her release. Then it was too late to think about escaping.

She touched him nowhere but between his legs. Her body
rose and lowered with amazing control. He felt himself being milked to the point of no return.

Her gaze met his. While she had been brave, he was not. He closed his eyes, unwilling to let her see the horror he kept locked inside. Then he brought his mouth to hers and kissed her. With a clench of her powerful muscles, she brought him to the edge and forced him over the side.

Jamie opened her eyes and blinked. Something was wrong, but it took her a second to figure out what it was. She glanced around Zach’s bedroom, then realized it was light. Sunshine streamed in through the window. Morning had come, and she’d slept through most of the night.

She sat up and rubbed her face. She was alone. The thought didn’t terrify her. Not after yesterday and last night. Her fearlessness wasn’t just because of the amazing sex, although that had been enough to heal whatever might have ailed her. It was the connection. She and Zach had bonded on a primitive and lasting level.

She flopped back in bed and grinned. Parts of her ached that hadn’t ached in years. She felt alive and happy and hopeful. There were still lots of things for them to work out. Differences to overcome. Zach had his demons to fight. But this morning, for the first time, she could believe in the promise of being happy.

She stood up and stretched. Her body was stiff from the unaccustomed activity. She needed a good run to loosen her up. That’s probably what Zach was doing.

She walked into her room and pulled on sweats. After washing her face and brushing her teeth, she headed into the kitchen. It was empty, but he’d made coffee before leaving. She smiled at his thoughtfulness. If she hadn’t already fallen for the man, she would have done it right then.

She poured herself a cup, then walked to the front window.
She couldn’t see him, just the tall pine trees and the blue sky. She sipped and let the contentment slip over her.

She’d fallen asleep in his arms. They’d talked of silly things until exhaustion had stolen their words. She recalled him rolling over and pulling her closer. As if he’d needed her next to him. As if…

She set the coffee down and frowned. Even as she fought them, the doubts returned. Had Zach gone running because he needed to be alone? Did he regret their intimacy? They’d started making love because he’d felt sorry for her. Maybe he’d just been without for a long time, and that’s why he’d—

“Stop it,” she said aloud. “Don’t do this to yourself. Have a little faith in you and Zach. He’s not like that.”

The words made her feel a little better. She headed for the front door and pulled it open. As she stepped out on the porch, she heard an unfamiliar sound. She froze in midstep and turned to her left.

The Bronco stood where she’d parked it. The hood was up, and Zach climbed into the driver’s side. He turned the key, and the engine sprang to life.

Her knees buckled. She had to grab the railing to keep from going down. He’d found the battery. He was leaving her.