Page 51 of Hot Soldier's Rescue

“Better,” he murmured against the cleft between her breasts.

“I’m feeling a little underdressed here,” she announced breathlessly.

“I’d say you’ve got it just about right. I can’t tell you how much I’ve wanted to get you out of those evil clothes. I’ve fantasized about it every night since I met you.”

She smiled against his mouth. “Who knew the big, bad arms dealer was such a fashionista?”

He laughed and drew her closer, kissing her laughter into panting need. He was as thorough and leisurely a kisser as she’d expected, but frantic desire was singing through her veins, driving her mad. She didn’t want leisurely right now.

Another night, she’d have reveled in the way his arms surrounded her in safety and how his body was solid and strong against hers. In another place, she’d love for a man like him to be her bulwark against the world forever. But tonight she didn’t want safety. She wanted danger and lust and mind-blowing pleasure. All she had to do was reach out and take what he was offering. Her entire being sighed in relief as she gave up the last ghost of a fight against herself.

She pushed him down to the mattress and he fell backward, laughing. “Impatient, are you?”

“You have no idea. I’ve been waiting for this—for you—forever.”

“I’m right here.”

She pushed aside the thought that he didn’t say he planned to stay with her. She was not going to wallow in wishes and regrets. She was going to enjoy this man, this moment, to the fullest. “I want it all, Drago. Promise me you won’t hold anything back tonight.”

His gaze met hers, abruptly serious, the intensity in it galvanizing. “Be careful what you wish for, little girl. You just might get it.”

She stared back at him, matching every bit of his intensity. “Regardless of the wisdom of it, I know what I want.”

“So be it.” He twisted so she lay half beneath him, his body warm and protective over hers. She nearly sobbed in relief to feel the hard length of his arousal against her thigh.

She tugged at his shirt, and he lifted away enough for her to tug the cotton over his head and fling it aside. Acres of smooth skin and sculpted muscle unfolded before her. “Mmm. Yummy. Bring some of that on over here so I can have a taste.”

And taste him she did. They took turns exploring each other’s bodies with mouths and hands as she peeled off his trousers and briefs and finally laid him as bare as her. She wasn’t exactly sure when she made the decision that this was what she wanted. But now that it was made, she was absolutely certain she didn’t want to turn back. Tomorrow would be soon enough for the regrets.

True to his word, Drago held nothing back, showed her no mercy, gave her nowhere to hide. It all became a tangle of sheets and pillows and hot flesh and heavy breathing. Before long she lost track of where she ended and he began. He seemed to take pleasure in making her cry out with need and pushed her harder and harder until she thrashed mindlessly beneath him, surging against him again and again.

Everything beyond the two of them ceased to exist. It was just him and her and the pleasure rumbling like a rocket engine on a launchpad between them, rattling harder and harder as the power built, waiting to explode. Steam heat rolled forth. Sparks and geysers of flame shot between them, and the bed shook as their climax lifted off between them. It gathered speed and power as it roared into space, dragging them along with it, so brilliant she had to squint against its glory.

And when the void would have claimed her, Drago was there, his face filling her field of view, his gaze boring into her, stripping her bare even as his smile filled her with joy. Completion. Rightness.

She fell back to the damp sheets gasping. The two of them were meant to be. No matter if he dealt in death for a living. No matter if his work was ridiculously dangerous. No matter that loving him could only lead to loss and grief. It was a done deal.

“Who are you?” she whispered.

He smiled disarmingly. “I’m the guy you just took to the moon.”

He’d evaded her yet again. Even now. Even in this most intimate of moments, he’d dodged the truth. The sad part was she loved him anyway, wanted him anyway. She shouldn’t forgive him for it, but God help her, she did.

Chapter Eleven

Ted’s arm was asleep, but Elise was lying on it, and he wouldn’t disturb her right now for anything in the world. Who’d have guessed all that fire was hiding beneath her demure exterior? She wasn’t a kitten. She was a wildcat. He caught himself smiling up at the ceiling in the dark and started. Since when did a roll in the sack make him this giddy with joy?

Since he’d met Elise, apparently. And that was a problem. He was supposed to be quelling a dangerous terrorist plot and not skipping through the daisies with some do-gooder, fake nun. But as sure as she was lying beside him, he was on the verge of breaking out in tra-la-las and kumbayas.

He had to get his head back in the game. He had to make contact with the real leader of the Army of Freedom. Figure out if he was being played. If they’d penetrated his disguise. If they actually planned to attack a bunch of civilian airliners on American soil. And if it came down to it, he might have to mark this Eduardo Lentano guy and his key cadre for execution.

Although, the idea left a bad taste in his mouth. Images of Mia and Emanuel’s too-serious eyes flashed through his head. How many more orphans would he create if he wiped out Lentano and his men?

Irritated, he asked himself fiercely how many American orphans would be created if he let these guys blow up a bunch of airplanes. Violence left behind innocent victims either way. The only question was whether they were your victims or the other guy’s. Personally, he opted for the other guy’s. Especially if the other guy picked the fight in the first place. Although, he supposed that point could be debated, too.

Since when did he question his work like this? He’d wrestled through these moral questions years ago and never looked back. Somebody had to do his job. Better that a moral guy like him who wouldn’t get lost in it should do the job than some schmuck who’d go psycho eventually. But the argument rang hollow with him, tonight.

For the first time, the violent nature of his work left a sour taste in his mouth. Seeing himself through Elise’s eyes wasn’t a pleasant thing. He wanted her to see a hero when she looked at him. He didn’t want to be the cold-blooded killer she accused him of being.

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