A Burning Obsession Page 7
She wanted Jason in her bed. She wanted him to make wild and crazy love to her.
When he reached for his clothes, she figured that she could simply have a good time taking them back off. But when she looked at him, he was all business. She bit her bottom lip. He had her all turned on. His erection under his pants was blatant. So why weren’t they rolling across her mattress?
“Aren’t we going to—”
“Not yet.”
“We aren’t?” Disappointment shot through her. Didn’t he know how hard it had been for her to get past the fact that they’d just met? Didn’t he understand her inhibitions were down after sharing the bath with him and that her body was ready to make love? Plus, she had herself all convinced that she wanted to make love to him—even if he was a stranger. How could he let all that wonderful buildup fizzle into nothing? She wanted to stamp her foot in frustration. Or better yet, tackle him on the bed.
“First, we’re going out.”
“Why?”
“Disappointed, are you?” He buttoned his shirt and tucked the tail into his slacks. Finally he slipped into his jacket. “You coming with me or not?”
He didn’t want to make love to her. Naturally, the first thing she did was wonder what she’d done wrong. Had she been too passive? Too slow to make up her mind? Or had he just not found her sexy enough?
None of the above. She’d seen his erection. Kimberly might be confused, but her feminine instincts hadn’t abandoned her. If he wanted her to put on her clothes so they could go out—well then fine. However, after that foot massage, he was going to get back a little of his own teasing.
Kimberly headed straight to the costume bag and pulled out the sexiest lingerie she could find. The dark green bra, all lacy and see-through, cupped her breasts, almost but not quite, creating cleavage, but didn’t even cover her nipples. Next, she shimmied into panties, a garter belt and silky black stockings that she took her time drawing over her feet, calves and thighs. She turned to face him with a sexy grin. “You sure you want me to finish dressing?”
“Ah, darling. I knew from the moment I set eyes on you that we were going to have such fun together.”
“Fine.” She donned the shortest micromini skirt she owned, boots and pulled a jean jacket right over her bra—no blouse. That would give Mr. We-need-to-go-out something to think about.
“You’re only going to secure one button?”
She bit back a grin. “If it comes unfastened, I’m sure you’ll let me know.”
He gestured toward the door. “The sooner we leave, the sooner we can get back. But in the meantime we’re both going to have some fun. You’re never going to know when I’m going to slip my fingers under your jacket, perhaps tweak a nipple.”
“Of course, I’ll know.” Her nipples responded to his words as if he’d touched her. And she realized too late that her lack of a blouse wasn’t going to tease just him. She, too, would suffer from the effect of her hardened nipples rubbing against her jacket. But she wasn’t about to change her mind, not when she felt daring—and glad of it.
It was his turn to chuckle. “I’ll look forward to the challenge.”
She realized she’d just given him permission to slip his hand under her jacket. Instead of alarm, she was anticipating his move. “Why can’t we stay here and—”
“Because we need to get rid of the suit and wig.” He strode into the bathroom and she could hear him wringing water out of the clothing and wig. “I’m not taking any chances with your safety. I’m hoping that allowing the police to search your room dismissed any suspicions they might have had of you.”
“That’s why you invited them in?”
“Most innocent people would have done so.”
She raised a brow. “That’s not what I asked.”
“And I couldn’t resist the opportunity to climb into that tub with you.”
“Somehow I believe that for once you’re being truthful.”
“But if the police are still suspicious and watching us, once my hand goes under your jacket, they’ll just think we’re playing kinky games.”
“But—”
He lightly squeezed her hand. “Trust me, darling. No man in his right mind is going to be thinking about the evidence down my sleeve, not when my hand’s up your blouse.”
She’d been thinking about making love and all he seemed to care about was the police and her suit and her wig. “Surely there have to be others to—”
His mouth closed over hers in a hard, demanding kiss that left no room for her to breathe, no chance for her to protest. He held her so close her breasts pressed against him and her nipples tightened into nubs so hard she thought she might climax from his kiss alone.
She barely resisted straddling one of his hard thighs and rubbing against him to ease the building ache. And when he ended the kiss much too soon with a soft chuckle, spun her around and marched her toward the door, she didn’t want to let him know how badly she was trembling—so she simply walked through the door he held open for her.
“We’re going out. And when we get back, I’m going to give you the best lovemaking you’ve ever had.”
“Promises. Promises.” She ought to give him back some smart retort. But she hadn’t expected his kiss to leave her all weak and warm inside. He’d been touching and kissing her all evening.
Never before had she let a man put moves on her so fast. That foot massage had been one of the sexiest experiences of her life. Sitting naked in that tub with him was the kind of act she could envision for a script—but not for herself. She was practical, down-to-earth Kimberly. She didn’t do passion. She didn’t ever forget that strangers could have all kinds of secrets or that she wanted to know those secrets before she considered making love to a man.
However, all her commonsense seemed to just soar out the window when it came to Jason Parker. He overwhelmed her in ways she wasn’t equipped to combat.
Her body was wound up tighter than a sprinter waiting for the starter’s pistol. Not only hadn’t he made love to her, he hadn’t let her work off any of the sexual tension in her bath. Instead, he’d upped the heat another few degrees.
She’d never felt this on edge in her life. She needed some distance. He was so close, she could smell his masculine scent and tried to take a step or two away.
When his fingers slipped up her thigh and snapped her garter, she almost jumped out of her skin in surprise.
“Ow.”
“Be good and stay close.”
“I don’t want to be good. Nor do I want to wait for you to decide—”
She stopped talking at the sight of the crowd in the hotel foyer. Men and women from their tour group were staring up at them.
5
“DID WE MISS something?” Jason asked smoothly. He’d escaped from so many tight scrapes he’d lost count, especially since he almost always talked his way out of a rough spot—a knack he’d honed to serve him well over the years.
Beside him, Kimberly was as tense as a cornered fox. He’d hoped snapping her garter would take her mind off the crowd waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs and cause her to relax, but that hadn’t seemed to work. Although he couldn’t account for every minute of her time after she left the library, he believed her an innocent bystander, under suspicion by her government for reasons he had yet to clear up. A professional spy would have much more self-control, better excuses and an impeccable cover.
Unless she was a professional pretending to throw them all off with her innocence.
The circular logic could have made his head ache if he let it. Instead of worrying over her guilt or innocence, he simply enjoyed the sight of her long, toned legs, barely covered by that short, short skirt as she walked in front of him. And he enjoyed the sight even more for already having seen what her clothes were now keeping hidden.
The memory of her exquisite breasts and coral-tipped nipples framed in green lace made him grateful for his loose slacks. Kimberly possessed a perfectly proportion
ed body, slender shoulders, a tiny waist and trim hips. And gorgeous slanted green eyes that widened with wonder, then snapped closed when she kissed him. And, oh-hot-damn, had she melted against him during that kiss.
In contrast, she now stood as tense and rigid as a barber pole, almost as if she expected the police to produce the stolen book and accuse her of the theft. However, if she had lifted it, she hadn’t stashed the relic in her room. His search might have been quick, but he’d been thorough, and the police had searched, too, and found nothing.
“The authorities still haven’t found the Book of Celts,” Liam told them as they reached the last step and joined the rest of the tour group. “But the bobbies are requesting we delay our departure for another twenty-four hours.”
A babble of voices rose up in argument. The professor’s was loudest. “That would limit our time in Scotland. I insist we stick to our schedule. They have no evidence to make us stay.”
“The police can’t stop us from leaving, can they?” Mrs. Barr asked their guide.
“No, Madam. The choice is ours.”
“We should blow this town,” Alex agreed as he sneaked a look at Kimberly’s legs.
As much as Jason didn’t blame the kid for looking, he nevertheless didn’t like the idea of him ogling her. Jason found nothing odd about his possessive behavior; he didn’t believe in sharing. Besides, he’d move on soon enough. But while they were together, he wanted exclusivity.
Mr. Barr slung an arm over his wife’s shoulder. “They’ve already searched all of our rooms, and we’ve cooperated fully. I see no reason to postpone our plans.”
“Then we’re agreed?” Liam asked.
Beside Jason, Kimberly didn’t say a word. Was she avoiding calling attention to herself? Or was the group simply mirroring her opinion so she needn’t say anything? Possibly, she just didn’t care one way or the other. But since her script was so important to her, she obviously had a scheduled agenda and other places to check out during her trip. Seemed to him, if she was on the up and up, she wouldn’t mind speaking up against a delay.
Wishing he had hard evidence to back up his instinctive belief of her innocence, he walked out of the hotel holding her hand, the silence between them comfortable. Her heels clicked pleasantly on the cobblestone street, but would make it easy for anyone to follow them. Appearing innocent as the summer breeze had advantages. To any interested onlooker, he and Kimberly would appear to be friends or lovers out for a late-night stroll—not allies on a secret mission.
The deep shadows cast by steep-pitched cottages lent a romantic aura to their journey. So did the half moon that shone brightly enough to light their way down to the wharf.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“How do you feel about boats?”
“I’m not especially passionate about them. Why?”
“Oh, come on, where’s your adventurous spirit? How about a kayak ride at midnight?”
“You want me to paddle a boat?” Her voice raised in exasperation. Then she leaned her head to his and whispered. “Can’t we just throw the stuff off a bridge?”
“Someone might see us,” he whispered back.
She stopped right in the middle of the street and tugged on his arm. “How far out are we paddling this kayak?”
Obviously, she’d taken to heart his warning about being seen. “Let me worry over the details.”
“That’s the problem.”
“What?”
“You don’t look worried.”
He chuckled, took her arm and started strolling again. “Don’t you know how to swim?”
“Not well enough to cross the English Channel.”
“That won’t be necessary. We’ll be in a—”
“Kayak?” She shivered. “The only kind of boat I want to take is one that requires reservations, like the Queen Mary.”
“She’s retired.”
“That’s just a detail.”
“It’s the details that can trip you up.” He drew her under his arm and tugged her against his side. He spoke in a low whisper. “Be very careful what you say.”
“Why?” She started to turn her head.
“Don’t look.”
“But—”
“Someone’s following us.”
“Oh, God.” She walked faster.
He slowed her back down. “Easy. We don’t want them to know that we know.”
“Why?”
“Because we want to look innocent.”
“We are innocent.”
He dragged her to a stop. “I think it’s time you kissed me again.”
Despite his earlier warning not to look for their pursuer, she glanced over her shoulder to check the road behind them. “You want me to stop right here and kiss you?”
“Yes.” He slid both hands under her jacket, enjoying the warmth of her flesh, liking the way she shivered and shimmied at his touch. He recalled that sexy bra that left her nipples exposed to his touch and let his hands rove higher.
She giggled, either from nerves or anticipation, he couldn’t be sure. “Are you out of your mind?”
“Probably.” He let his fingers play with the lace and slowly edged higher. Her nipples were already puckered and he plucked them.
“Ah.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and arched her breasts into his eager hands. “Are you saying I’m kissing an insane man?”
“One who’s crazy about you.” He tweaked her nipples and enjoyed her soft moan of desire.
“Mmm.” She raised her lips to his. “How come you’re so warm and I’m so cold?”
“That would be my fault.”
“Oh, really.”
“Darling, I unbuttoned your jacket.”
She looked down, then back at him in amazement.
“When did you—”
“You’ll have to allow me to keep some secrets.” He nuzzled her ear and bent his head to the opening. Very slowly, he ran his tongue from her throat down the V of her collar, inching back the denim just an inch.
She trembled and guided his head to her breasts. “I thought you were going to kiss me. Now you’ll have to warm me up.”
“Actually, I said you should kiss me.” He straightened, placed both hands on her waist, then let his palms slide upwards, stopping on her rib cage, just below her bra, his fingers busily caressing, teasing and tweaking her nipples. “And I’ll be happy to warm you up.”
“It’s about time,” she complained, her tone husky.
He cupped her through the lace, allowed his fingers to spread slowly over her breasts. She trembled beneath his touch but she didn’t back away—just the opposite. She arched her back and pressed against him, like a woman who knew exactly what she wanted.
Reaching up behind his head, she tugged his mouth down to hers until their lips were just inches apart. “You realize I don’t usually kiss a guy on the first day, however, I suppose in your case I can make an exception.”
“Because I’m exceptional?” His thumbs flicked back and forth over her nipples.
She let out another soft moan of desire. “Because we’ve already been naked together, and because you’re exceptionally bad.”
He tweaked her nipples a little harder, pleased as the little nubs remained rock-hard. “So you like bad?”
“I like you, Jason. I don’t trust you worth a damn. But I like you.” And after making that pronouncement, she kissed him, eagerly, opening her mouth, giving him free reign to pluck and pinch and pleasure her breasts.
He pulled his mouth away to nuzzle her ear. “Your skin is so soft and smooth.” He understood the fine line that created pleasure and didn’t want to step over it. “How do my hands feel?”
“Hot.”
“You aren’t cold anymore?”
She shook her head. In the moonlight, as he withdraw his hands and rebuttoned her jacket, disappointment clouded her eyes. Good.
If Jason was any judge of women, and he considered himself an artist with the female sex, Kimberly
had been ready to make love to him back in the hotel room. While she was far from the sophisticated woman of the world he usually pursued, the sparks between them were undeniable. With his determination to go slowly, sweat had broken out on his brow, but he was fairly certain that she now wanted him just as much as he wanted her.
While he could play her body as easily as he could pick a lock, he wanted her to hand him the key. So he would be patient, even if the seam of his slacks felt as though it might pop.
However, he could only take so much at a time, and her bold kiss and responsive breasts had him ready to abduct her to the nearest castle and make her his prisoner. He took her hand again and tried not to think how he’d rather be touching her oh-so-wonderful breasts, tweaking her delectable nipples.
He forced enthusiasm into his tone. “Come on. Our kayak’s waiting.”
She strolled beside him, her voice curious, with remnants of husky need. “And when did you arrange for a kayak?”
He could hardly tell her that he’d phoned the Shey Group right before he’d come to her room. Logan Kincaid had contacts all over the world. To a man like him, arranging for a kayak to be waiting at the end of the quay was done as easily as most men parked their car in the garage. But Jason wasn’t about to admit his connection to the secret group of men who took on high-tech missions for their government as well as corporate America. So he lied.
“I was hoping to take an early-morning trip along the shoreline. See some nature.”
“In a two-person kayak?”
They’d reached the dock where the kayak floated, bobbing gently in the calm harbor. Two paddles and two life jackets could be clearly seen.
“Why don’t I believe you?”
Because she had good instincts.
Instead, he said, “I have no idea.” He led her out onto the dock, plucked the life jacket from the craft and handed it to her.
He took a moment to study the midnight shadows. Right now the area appeared deserted. The tourist booth that sold boat rides to a nearby island was closed up tight. It was still too early for the fishing boats to head out to sea.