A Burning Obsession Read online

  He chuckled. “That’s the best kind.”

  She dug her elbow into his rib. “Do you always get your way?”

  He winked at her, then gazed with delight at the Star of the North. “I’m not going to answer that question on the grounds that you’ll use it against me.”

  She sighed and stared at the next display. “How can a necklace be both ostentatious and stunning?”

  “You have a good eye. Those square-cut emeralds are at least twenty carats. The colors and size match exactly, adding to the value.”

  “The guard’s gone.” She tugged on Jason’s hand before he gave her a lecture on every stone. “Can we go see the vase now?”

  “Sure, but why don’t we go through the Chinese room? Supposedly the wallpaper was painted by artisans and there’s a ruby—”

  “The vase—”

  “Okay. Okay.”

  The display case took up one entire wall lined with black velvet. The vase sat on a pedestal, the lines simple and compelling.

  She’d seen pictures of the Gypsy Rose Vase, but up close, the color was deeper, richer and more fascinating. Shaped like rose petals, the vase took its name from its design and color. Kimberly could almost believe a fairy had cast a spell on it. But the vase was trimmed with silver, and she suspected the strength of the metal had done more to protect the glass from breaking than any fairy spell.

  “What about the glass case?” she whispered.

  “The glass is glued together at the edges. A simple solvent dissolves the glue. Are we going that far?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to risk the air damaging the vase.”

  “Then we will have time to go for the North Star, too.”

  She knew the stone had caught his attention but he’d promised her that he wouldn’t steal while they were together.

  “I’m holding you to your promise.”

  His eyes glittered with satisfaction. “Then I shall hold you to yours.”

  He was referring to her promise to make love, of course. Although he’d just set her up and she’d walked right into his trap, she nevertheless appreciated his keen mind. Not many men could invent a new way to hack security programs as he had. In fact, she suspected he might be able to sell his program for more than he could ever steal—but she already knew money wasn’t a major factor in his career choice.

  He liked taking risks, and she liked taking them, too. She couldn’t wait to see where and how they were going to make love. Every nerve jangled in anticipation as he led her down the hallways.

  Tourists were slowly emptying the building as closing time approached. Despite her nerves, they strolled at the same speed as other tourists, doing nothing to draw attention to themselves.

  Beside her, Jason appeared casual, except for his eyes that seemed to take in every doorway, every guard and security camera before moving on deeper into the museum. With his stride even, his long legs covered the distance in an amazingly short time.

  He steered her toward the right. “The restoration of the king’s and queen’s quarters were completed last year. According to my blueprint we should reach the…yes. Here we are.”

  He led her into a bedroom with a tiny four-poster bed decorated with an ornate silk coverlet, a massive fireplace, floor-to-ceiling wooden bookcases filled with leather volumes protected by curved glass. A security guard strolled past but didn’t hurry them on their way. Just the sight of the guard caused her heart to pound.

  Jason guided her to a tri-fold screen used for privacy when dressing. “Ta-da. We’ve found the perfect spot.”

  “Here?” She walked behind the screen that rose eight feet from the floor and would certainly conceal them from prying eyes, as long as no one got curious and checked the space behind it. There was about four feet between the screen and the wall, enough room for the velvet sofa that had been shoved there. Cozy, but private, yet still she worried about the light from the windows casting their silhouettes on the screen.

  “Stand right here.” She positioned Jason behind the screen. When he moved, it was obvious someone was there. “Hold still.”

  “What do you think?”

  “When you hold still your silhouette isn’t that noticeable.”

  “Let’s trade places,” he suggested.

  She went behind the screen and he came out into the room. She checked her watch and saw that they had another few minutes until closing.

  “Take off your shirt,” he said.

  “Huh?”

  “I want to watch the shadows on the screen.”

  Yeah, right. “Okay.” She pulled her shirt over her head and dropped it on the sofa. She didn’t know if it was the situation he’d created or just that she wanted him, but she’d never been this ready to make love—without a kiss, without a touch, without any warming up. Maybe all the foreplay leading up to this moment had been mental, maybe her body was remembering the last time they’d made love, or maybe she was just plain in lust with the man, but she had never wanted anyone like him.

  “Now your jeans.”

  “Is anyone—”

  “The place is empty.”

  “Okay. I’m unsnapping my jeans. Unzipping. Sliding them down my legs.”

  “If anyone comes, climb onto the sofa and hold perfectly still.”

  She had never done anything like this in her life. She wanted him touching her, holding her. On the same side of the screen with her.

  “If you want my underwear to come off, you’re going to have to remove it yourself.”

  “Does that mean you miss me?” He ducked behind the screen, but his footsteps had been so quiet that she jumped at his voice so close by. “Ah, is that purple? I adore you in purple.”

  In the dim light filtering through the windows, it was difficult to see, and yet she felt self-conscious standing there in her bra and panties with him fully dressed. “You have some catching up to do.”

  “Kiss me first.”

  And then she was in his arms, her face tipped up to his for a kiss, the warmth of his chest heating her bared flesh. And when his mouth covered hers, she forgot where she was and why she was there. She focused on the heat fusing her mouth to his, the tenderness in the arms wrapped around her and the very distinct bulge in the front of his jeans.

  She never knew exactly when he removed her bra. Keeping track of those clever fingers of his was an impossible task. Especially with her breath coming in ragged gasps, and her flesh all prickly from the cool air. But when he found her breasts and covered them with his palms, she was glad his mouth covered up her soft moan.

  He pulled back and whispered, “Slow down. We have plenty of time.”

  “Who’s in a rush?” she shot back at him, hooking her thumbs into the elastic at her hips and tugging her pants down just a smidgen.

  “Take them off.” His voice, hoarse with need, set her veins on fire.

  She cocked one hip at a sexy angle and peeled them down another inch. She’d never done anything quite this naughty and she loved the way she felt. Daring. Feminine. And so ready for him.

  “More. I want you naked.”

  She wanted to be naked for him. She enjoyed the appreciation in his eyes, the rasp in his throat, the catch in his voice that told her how much he wanted her. And his wanting excited her all the more.

  In one smooth move, she dispensed with her panties. And then he gathered her into his arms and laid her across the divan.

  She started to gather him to her. Then froze at the sound of voices. “Uh-oh. Did you hear that?”

  “What?”

  “That.”

  “Sometimes the museum stays open late for special groups.”

  “What?”

  He settled beside her on the sofa. “You’re going to have to remain still. Quiet.”

  She didn’t expect that to be a problem. She was practically frozen to the sofa, wishing she hadn’t so indulgently followed her natural inclinations. At the sound of footsteps and voices coming their way, she wanted to reac
h for her clothes but they were trapped under her.

  Jason didn’t seem the least bit upset—but then he still had on all his clothes. She’d been listening so intently to the voices coming their way that she hadn’t realized at first that his hands were skimming over her breasts, stroking and caressing.

  “Hold still,” he whispered and then his mouth settled over her breast, his tongue licking, his lips nibbling.

  She couldn’t move. Or make a sound for fear of discovery. Strangers stood less than three feet from her on the other side of that screen. And her breast was in Jason’s mouth. She lay naked and decadent, her nerves on fire and all she could do was…nothing.

  It was totally wanton.

  Yet sweet.

  No, it was delectable torture.

  And the fire of need burned through her veins like lava. She ached to shift her position, to direct his mouth to her other breast, to find release and escape from her prison. And yet, there was nowhere she’d rather be. No one else she’d rather be with.

  Her nipple pebbled inside his mouth, and she never knew that so many nerve endings could be confined in one tiny oh-so-sensitized zone. By the time the group on the other side of the folding screen finally moved on to another exhibit, her thoughts spun fuzzily and her ears roared from the blood rushing through her like an electric current of raw desire.

  She needed to be in charge, on top, in control and desperately sought to change their positions.

  Using both palms, she shoved Jason back, dimly aware that he had yet to remove his clothes. And climbing on top of him would do her no good if she didn’t get him naked. Fast.

  Only her fingers seemed to have gone numb and clumsy too. She trembled as she tried to unfasten his belt, yank his shirt from his pants.

  He did nothing to help her. In fact, he directed his wandering fingers over her shoulders and back and hips, creating more fumbling on her part. She’d never wanted a man as much as she wanted him.

  If she’d had the strength to rip his shirt from his body, she would have done so. She shook with a fierce possessiveness that had her throat raw and tight, her stomach clenched and a dampness pooling between her thighs.

  Finally, she tossed his shirt. When she reached to unzip those sexy jeans, she bit back a curse. The denim at his hips was tight and the legs didn’t flare. And she’d forgotten his boots. No way were those pants coming off unless she removed the boots first.

  “Kick them off,” she whispered.

  He sat on the sofa and held one booted foot up.

  “Do it for me.”

  “Fine.” She grabbed the heel and yanked. Nothing budged.

  “You have to turn around.”

  “What?” she hissed.

  He motioned for her to turn around and straddle his legs. After she turned, he touched her bottom and she almost jumped out of her skin.

  If she wanted to remove his boot, she was going to have to bend over. With her feet planted on either side of his, he could easily reach between her thighs, caress her where she needed to be touched.

  Without any hesitation, she reached for the heel of his boot and he fondled her bottom, drawing closer and closer to the center of her heat. She tugged on the boot and when it still didn’t give, she figured he’d tensed his ankle to hold her exactly where he wanted her.

  “You planned this, didn’t you?”

  He chuckled softly. “I’m pleading the Fifth. Wouldn’t want to incriminate myself.”

  He ever so slowly teased seductive circles up the insides of her thighs and she bit back a scream at him to hurry. And yet, she wanted this edge of pleasure to last as long as possible. But she’d never thought waiting could be this difficult.

  She arched her back, trying to encourage him but he was a man with his own way of making love, his own pace, and he refused to be rushed. She bit her lip, tugged on the boot in frustration, bit back a moan.

  “Jason, will…you…please…touch…me.”

  “I am touching you.”

  “Not…ah…in the right…oh…spot.”

  He placed his entire hand between her legs and cupped her lightly. “Here.”

  “Better.”

  She squirmed, but the pressure was too light, too barely there. Instead of increasing the pressure that would bring her relief, he’d only upped the tension, drawing her into one very frustrated woman.

  And then another group came down the hallway.

  “Don’t move.” With the tri-fold screen set on the floor and her bending over Jason’s legs, the back of the sofa hid her silhouette. She couldn’t be seen.

  But that was when Jason spread open her slick folds with a gentle thoroughness that had her biting her bottom lip to contain a groan. He stroked her softly, slowly, so seductively she wanted to scream with the delight building inside her. Like a master mason, he’d laid a foundation of desire, and now every touch was like piling on another superheated layer.

  Her fingers clenched his ankle for support. She clutched him tightly to steady her rubbery knees, and her breasts kept rubbing against the denim of his jeans, making her hips want to buck with wild abandon.

  Only she had to hold still. Take whatever he gave her without saying a word. Without murmuring so much as a moan. Her entire body was trembling as his fingers stroked her moist clit, applying just enough pressure to make her wild, but not enough to give release.

  She had no idea how long he held her on the edge of orgasm, but physically and mentally, she’d never been in this place before. She needed him inside her, holding her, taking her. But that was impossible at the moment with his hips still encased in denim. She needed release but he wasn’t going to give that to her. Not yet.

  He abandoned her clit and slid one finger inside her heat. Automatically her muscles clenched around his finger, which seemed drawn to her G-spot like a magnet. And he kept that finger circling, building another wall of pressure that had her shaking so hard she wasn’t going to be able to hold back.

  He was giving her exactly what she wanted, driving her, pushing her, propelling her toward an orgasm. And every atom in her body needed that release.

  He was urging her to the very peak and she couldn’t take much more. But she had to.

  Damn him. There were people on the other side of that screen.

  She had to wait.

  Had to hold on.

  For as long as it took.

  And every precious second seemed an eternity to wait. Each and every second he took advantage of her position. Caressing with long lingering licks of fire that had her frantic to go up in flames.

  Finally the group departed. Desperately, she directed her shaking fingers to yank off one boot. He lifted his other foot and she ripped that one off, too.

  Somehow, he lifted his hips while keeping his other hand between her legs. She wrenched off those jeans and his shorts. With his chest to her back, he nipped her shoulder and his hands gripped her hips and guided her onto his sex.

  “Ah. You feel so good.”

  “I can feel even better.” Then he reached around her waist to play with her clit again and she rode him like a wild woman. Taking, pumping, grinding and when she exploded, he had to clamp the hand that had been on her hip over her mouth to suppress her scream. However, his fingers on her clit never stopped seeking and her spasms took him right with her into a place where there were no rules, just mind-numbing bliss.

  11

  TO JASON the pretend stealing of the Gypsy Rose Vase was anticlimactic, pun intended, after the lovemaking. He grinned at his own humor as he and Kimberly left the museum. Their combustible lovemaking had been a hundred times more exciting than simply walking down the museum corridor between guards making their rounds, entering the room with the vase and with gloved fingers touching the case, like Indians counting coup, and then leaving the building empty-handed.

  However, his heart was far from empty. He’d enjoyed every second in that museum with Kimberly. She was more than enthusiastic, an incredibly generous lover, a w
oman who despite her protests liked taking risks. He’d sensed awesome passion in her from the time they’d met and she’d surpassed his wildest imagination. The only thing that might have made it better was lifting the Star of the North diamond. Walking away from the heist had been more difficult than he’d imagined, but otherwise he was content.

  “You know all that exercise and excitement’s left me starved,” Kimberly peered into the closed restaurants and shops of the sleepy town. Not even the dogs remained awake to bark at them.

  “At this hour, we might find a pub. And a sympathetic barkeep to make us a sandwich.” He steered her toward a bar on the corner.

  An hour later, their stomachs happy and full after wonderful three-cheese garlic toast and a few pints of beer, they returned to the hotel. While Jason didn’t want to assume they were sharing a room tonight, he was hoping hard that she would invite him inside. He was using the key she’d handed him to open her door when she grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

  “Someone’s been in my room.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I left a Do Not Disturb sign on my door.”

  He plucked the sign off the doorknob. “It’s still here.”

  “Yeah, but it was crooked.”

  “Someone could have just brushed by with a wide suitcase, but it pays to be careful. Stand back.”

  Jason didn’t carry a weapon, but he wished he had one now. He considered whether to call on the kid at the lobby desk for backup, recalled his short stature and slim build and decided against it.

  If there was one thing Jason knew how to do well, it was to open a door and enter a room with stealth. Jason unscrewed the bulb in the hallway lamp, leaving them in darkness. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the blackness, then opened the door, stepped into the room and just listened. For breathing. A rustle of clothing. The creak of a floorboard.

  Nothing.

  Keeping his arm outstretched from his body, he narrowed his eyes and flipped on the light.

  “There’s no one here.” Kimberly entered the room, her gaze taking in the bathroom while he checked the closet.

  “I thought I told you to stay back?”