Page 25 of Afraid to Hope

Bane slipped his arms around Natasha’s shoulders and drew her close, kissing the top of her head. “We’ll get them.”

Natasha leaned into Bane, needing his warmth and assurance, glimpsing the curator’s fleeting scowl in her peripheral vision.

Brilliant sunshine warmed Natasha as she exited through the door Bane held open. “Do you think Ms. Guilford could be part of it? There’s talk of museum involvement.”

Bane ran a hand over his head and rubbed his neck, considering Natasha’s question. “I’ve heard that too. We’ve got to consider everyone a suspect, discern what they say, what they don’t say. Look for motivations and into backgrounds. That includes our colleagues.” He looked down the street to his left and waved. “Simon is pulling up.”

“I need items for dinner.”

“Any excuse to go shop—”

Natasha put her hand up. “I don’t need to hear your opinion, or what you have to—”

“I love this. We’re arguing like a real married couple.”

“Shut up, Bane,” she hurled at him under her breath.

“And to think I was sure you wanted me.”

She whirled on him, eyes flashing. “Just stop. You’re like an oversexed battering ram.”

“Impressive, Nat. Personification of a medieval weapon used to break down walls.” He threw his head back and roared with laughter. “Do you feel under siege?” He laughed again. “Is it working?”

She responded acidly. “No. We have a job to do.”

“That’s what has you upset. What you saw in the museum. The destruction.”

“Yes,” she cried. “Doesn’t it even bother you?” Her voice grew louder and more impassioned with each word. “Christ, it’s history and culture being destroyed. Erased. Stolen. Goddamn it!” She was close to tears.

In the next instant, Bane propelled them behind the immense arched column and into a secluded area, out of sight of passersby. He pressed Natasha against his chest, one arm holding her firmly against his heart, which she could feel racing in time with hers. His other hand brushed her hair back tenderly. “You drive me crazy.”

She tried to pull back, only to be thrust against his pelvis, against his unmistakable erection pressing into her.

“Don’t take your anger out on me. I’m not your enemy, so quit treating me like I am. I’m pissed off about the destruction and looting just like you are. It fucking sucks.”

His heady male scent enveloped Natasha. He was everywhere. Touching her, surrounding her. “I don’t require your comfort.” She tried to pull away again, unsuccessfully.

Bane dropped his mouth to her ear, his lips ghosting over its shell, sending a jolt of sparks and desire racing through her body like wildfire, hardening her nipples and building a delicious ache in her dampening core. His voice was low and quiet. “Gee, just when I believed we were making momentous inroads. Your icy responses intrigue me, because deep down I believe you’re amenable to my style of foreplay. We’re in each other’s blood, but you continue to fight it. You know I’m interested. I see it in the flash of your eyes, when you bite that full lower lip, and I feel how you’re responding to me right now. You want me in your bed, and when you decide you’re done lying to yourself, when you decide to let me take care of that deep ache you have, you’ll be far happier.” He leaned away, eyes tightening and holding hers. “How unfortunate that PDA is not okay in Morocco. If it were, I’d kiss you senseless. Let’s go,” he said, extending his hand toward the waiting car.

Natasha walked to the car.

Bane reached behind her and opened the rear door for her. “The back seat is all yours for our ride to thesouk.”

“Greetings, Simon,” said Bane lightly, sliding into the front passenger seat and putting the camera bag at his feet. “My wife needs to—” He looked over his shoulder at Natasha, his eyes going immediately to her chest, which rose and fell quickly.

Natasha snapped her fingers sharply. “Eyes here, Bane.”

Bane pivoted more in the seat. His eyes lit and the corner of his mouth turned up in amusement. “Shop for our excursion. Do you need a backpack?”

“A what?”

“Um… rucksack.”

Natasha was sure her prolonged exhale was audible over the cacophony outside the car, but she managed to respond civilly. “I do.”

The car moved into traffic, and Bane’s blinding smile disarmed her. “Hard to stay pissed at me when I’m looking out for you, isn’t it?” He winked.

She glared at him. “Simon, will you please take us toQuartier Habousonce we get to Casa?”

---