Seduction and Surrender (Reckless #2) Page 5

  Moments later, Nicole lay limply in his arms, her cheek resting on his chest.

  His smile faded like snow in the desert. Christ, maybe something was wrong. Maybe two nonscreaming orgasms in a row meant something. “Hey, talk to me. You okay?”

  “Tired.”

  “You wanna sleep?”

  “Maybe.” Her voice was muffled against his skin. “Answer your phone.”

  He hesitated. Gina was calling.

  She felt him tense. “I’m wallowing in feel-good endorphins,” she said, lifting her head enough to give him a smile. “So if some woman’s calling you, I don’t care.”

  He blew out a quick breath and brushed her nose with a kiss. “Thanks.” He knew better than to start explaining Gina. Holding Nicole close, he smoothly rose from the chair, set her back down gently, braced his hands on the chair arms, and, leaning forward, held her gaze. “It’s business, in case you were wondering.”

  Her smile was soft and girly; it made him wish he’d known her at sixteen.

  “It’s okay. Really.”

  “This won’t take long.” He walked over to the window, where he’d left his shorts, and pulled the ringing cell phone from a pocket.

  Chapter 4

  Hitting the Answer icon, Rafe put the phone to his ear. “Sorry, Gina, I was busy.”

  “I know what you were busy doing,” she said, softly mocking. “I already talked to Carlos.”

  “Then you should have left a message.” His voice was expressionless. “I would have called you back.”

  “Maybe I’m just a bitch.”

  “I wouldn’t disagree right now,” he said, rubbing his forehead with two fingers. “What’s up?”

  She knew that cool tone and got down to business. “We changed the flight plan, mid flight. Webster’s a goddamn star. I’m halfway across India on the way to Brisbane.”

  “No shit,” he said, suddenly each word the equivalent of a smile. “Fill me in.” He held up five fingers to Nicole, then turned and, listening, walked across the room to the windows. He nodded a few times at Gina’s recital, braced one hand on the window jamb, leaned forward, and stared at the sparkling blue sea as she ran through the search methodology. “Your contact in Manila gave up the first information, right? He’s paid, I assume.”

  “Enough so he’s still covering the streets for more info. We’re not the only ones after Zou’s mistress and child. But once my man in Manila connected the dots, Webster found two likely names on a passenger manifest—false of course—but a video feed showed them boarding a Macao to Brisbane flight. Your tech wizard accomplished this feat in under five minutes. If he’s as hot in bed, I need to fuck him.”

  “He’s married. Happily, I might add.”

  “You never know.”

  “True. But he’s been vetted down to the beer he drinks,” Rafe explained. “No side action. Sorry.”

  “Damn,” she muttered. “You sure know how to ruin a good mood. You know how I love expertise.”

  “It’s a big world out there,” Rafe said, smooth and easy. “I’m sure you’ll find someone to get you back in a good mood.”

  “I gather you’re not available at the moment.”

  “No.”

  The simplicity of his answer was more startling than the actual answer. But Gina had known Rafe for a long time. Leopard’s spots and all that shit. He’d be back on the market soon. “Well, since Carlos is paying top euros, even if you’re currently unavailable, I’ll keep working the case.”

  No way was he going to discuss anything personal with Gina. “We both appreciate your help—you know that. Ask Carlos for whatever you need once you get to Brisbane. What’s your gut feeling on whether the woman and child stay there or move on?”

  “It’s a strange place to go unless you have good reason. The usual escapees end up in Dubai, Cyprus, South America, some island nation with no extradition treaties. So I’ll give it at least fifty/fifty Zou has a hideaway there in some better-than-average suburban neighborhood. With his money stashed somewhere else.”

  “Money he’s not going to live to enjoy.”

  “You and I know that but he’s hopeful. All the crooks are bloody optimists, well protected, or both. Otherwise they wouldn’t keep sending money out of whatever country they’re plundering.”

  “Seems that way. Now, don’t take any risks. Seriously, Gina, no heroics, okay? We’ll close this deal without you putting your life on the line.”

  “Easier said than done. You know what you’re up against.”

  “Fuck yeah. But my order still stands. Be careful. All you have to do is find the woman and child, then back off. We’ll do the rest. I have no intention of losing this one.”

  “That’s what Carlos tells me.”

  “Believe it. I’ll be back online tomorrow.”

  “If only you could dismiss me so easily,” she said, a smile in her voice.

  “Piss me off, I might not answer your calls.”

  “Ooooh, threats. I love it. Are you going to whip me?”

  “Jesus, shut the fuck up. I’m ending this conversation.” But he stood motionless for a few moments, his mind racing, contemplating all the actors in play, their motives, constraints, tactics, how many others were on their way to Brisbane, possibly there already. He was fully aware that he should be discussing this with Carlos and Ganz instead of indulging his passions. The consequences of losing an entire day were substantial with Zou and his killers breathing down their necks. He was walking a fucking tightrope here. One foot wrong and it was over.

  Nicole hadn’t heard the conversation, only the resonance and cadence of Rafe’s deep voice. But he hadn’t moved since ending the call, his large frame silhouetted against the brilliant sun, his tension palpable even from across the room. His underlying musculature was taut beneath his graceful stance—from his lightly braced arm to his broad shoulders, down his strong back, over his fine ass and long, powerful legs to his feet, which were planted firmly on the carpet.

  No matter the dizzy white light pouring in the windows, the full-on view was so explicitly defensive, so cold and distant, that a sudden sharp panic gripped her senses. He was locked in his own world, one she was no part of. She could already feel him drifting away, a shadow of loss strong enough to take her breath away.

  As if responding to her unease, Rafe turned and smiled. “It’s always something, right?”

  “You’ve got a lot going on.” She gave herself kudos for keeping her voice steady.

  His eyes were cool and unblinking for a moment, as though her simple statement required more than a cursory response. Then a little furrow formed between his eyes, followed by a tiny pause where Nicole felt as though time stopped. “I thought I could do this,” Rafe said. “Take off a little time. But I can’t turn it off.” His brows flicked upward. “Sorry.”

  For the first time, the phrase your heart drops hit home. But Nicole managed to keep the crushing sadness at bay and offered him what she hoped was a sympathetic smile. “Hey, I’m a big girl. You’re dealing with high stakes. Go do what you have to do.”

  “I’ll think about it.” His look had softened now, his voice too, all the emotional crosscurrents deliberately subdued. “Or I’ll think about it later,” he said, a warmth in his sudden smile, telling himself this was a self-indulgence he could afford. “Carlos can handle things a little longer. If he can’t, he’ll let me know,” he added, walking toward her with an easy stride.

  Her heart moved back where it belonged, her shoulders imperceptibly relaxed. “I know you’re trying to strike a balance between your responsibilities and me. So I can be mature and unselfish. I can stay out of your way.”

  “I hope that doesn’t mean you’re cutting me off.” His voice was calm, but a predatory spark lit his eyes.

  “As if I could.”

  “That’s my girl.” A big grin broke across his face. “Dutiful and compliant.”

  “You’re such an asshole. No offense.”

  “None ta
ken.” He came to a stop in front of the chair. “Now”—he glanced at a large standing clock that had been telling time since Copernicus—“should we try out the bed?”

  “Right after you apologize.”

  A short stare. “Always prickly as fuck aren’t you?” A flash of a smile. “I love our chemistry. I apologize. We okay?”

  Huge-eyed, she took a long shaky breath and told herself not to be reckless. But she said it anyway. “We’re always okay. Always.”

  Curiously, he experienced no alarm at seeing the wistfulness in her eyes, felt no need for a customary smooth withdrawal. In fact, he considered asking her again so he could hear her say it again, so his world could rock just a little again. Always. Such a grand word. Impossible though. Now more than ever.

  But not right this second. He held out his hand. “Come. I need to feel you.”

  She should have qualified her response, made sure he knew she wasn’t looking for anything permanent. That she understood always wasn’t an approved word. But when she wove her fingers through his and he pulled her to her feet, she found she couldn’t pretend. It was one of her character flaws, Dominic—a master of omission himself— had always said. “I have no clue how to deal with this anymore,” she said with a ghost of a smile.

  “Us, you mean.” There was a small catch in his voice.

  She nodded.

  His grip tightened on her hand. “All I know is it feels right. I have no idea why, I don’t give a shit why.” This might be his one and only shot. He was going to take it. “The rest of the world can stay on fucking hold for a while.”

  He towered above her, his strong hand holding hers, a ready-for-anything sexy man. A beautiful, capable man who’d stopped her meltdown with a few simple words. Her smile was a flash of sweetness. “We’re running out of road, so make me a miracle.”

  He laughed. “You got it. A well-fucked, epic miracle, pussycat. Guaranteed.”

  A moment later, he was lifting her up on the high gilded bed when his cell rang. Recognizing the ringtone, he quickly lowered Nicole onto the crocus-yellow damask coverlet, then straightened and gave her a nod. “Family. I have to take this.”

  Picking up the phone from the nightstand, he asked, “Where are you?” He winced, then began pacing and for the next few minutes circled the room like a caged animal, alternately listening and speaking, his voice cold and flat: “Okay, okay. Yes, I said I would. No I won’t forget. Of course, no problem. No comment, no comment, no comment, keep asking me that and you’ll get the same fucking answer.” His frown was in place throughout the conversation and after a last, terse “No problem,” he came to a stop and slam-dunked his phone on the bed so hard it bounced.

  “Sounds like a problem. Sorry”—Nicole giggled—“I couldn’t resist.”

  “Not now, okay?” he said in a don’t-fuck-with-me tone.

  “That bad, hey? Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “I’m sure there will be later,” he said with just the smallest inkling of a smile. “But right now, we’re screwed.” A note of resignation in his voice echoed his one-shoulder shrug. “We have to get dressed. My mum, stepdad, and little brother just anchored in the harbor and we’re invited aboard for drinks and dinner. My stepdad was being a major prick. He doesn’t want my mother to worry. It’s my fault she’s worried, blah, blah, blah. So I have to fix the problem, which means lying to her nonstop. Anton knows that but doesn’t care. All he cares about is protecting my mother. Not that I’d consider involving my mum in any of this mess, but still, it’s gonna be a long evening.” He dragged in a breath. “And I have to talk to Carlos first. My stepdad called him.”

  “How much time do we have?”

  “None. Bath or shower?”

  “Shower.” She surveyed the circular space. “Downstairs?”

  He lifted his chin. “On the other side of that bookcase.”

  “Such an interesting life you lead,” she said with a little laugh. “Secret doors in castle towers. Am I in a movie?”

  He gave her a look from under his lashes. “Only if it’s my private film. I don’t believe in sharing.” A novel concept specific to the lady in his bed, but one he no longer viewed as incredulous. Scooping her up off the bed, he moved toward the bookcase on the far wall. “We gotta make this fast. Anton’s got my mum freaking.”

  Chapter 5

  Sliding the bookcase aside on well-oiled hinges, Rafe set Nicole down in what was essentially a glass structure cantilevered out over the original garderobe. The area was considerably larger than most medieval toilets, but then the comte had been a man given to luxury. With the exception of the original mosaic floor, however, the space now resembled a glass aerie, albeit a bulletproof one, with one-way glass available at the flick of a switch.

  “Wow! What a glorious sight!” Nicole stared transfixed as the entire island and miles of azure sea lay spread out beneath her.

  “It’s relaxing isn’t it?”

  Her gaze swung to Rafe. “Not exactly the word I’d use unless you consider the view from the Eiffel Tower relaxing. This is stunning!”

  Since he actually did think the view from the Eiffel Tower was relaxing, a reply would entail more discussion than they had time for. “Glad you like it,” he said politely. “But”—he tapped the sports watch on his wrist, then motioned to the shower—“we’re on a tight schedule.”

  “So no playing in the shower?” One brow arched in playful query. “Is that what you’re saying?”

  He laughed. “You’re gonna kill me.”

  “Oh.” A tiny start. “Sorry. It’s just that you make me feel so…” Her voice trailed off, her cheeks flushing pink.

  “Hey, I was joking.” He leaned in close. “Same here, twenty-four/seven. But if you want this now, we’re gonna have to set records.”

  Her smile was so alight with pleasure he decided never to make stupid jokes when she needed him. Nice thought. Being needed by Nicole.

  She winked. “Think you can keep up?”

  “Why don’t I try?” he drawled, a man with a sexual skill set honed to perfection by considerable schooling and even more practice.

  It wasn’t a fair contest; it never would be.

  Turning on the shower, he had her inside and up against the glass wall a few seconds later, her legs wrapped around his waist a second after that and in one smooth move his dick filled her completely. The view over her shoulder included the harbor and Anton’s yacht—at least until the shower steamed up. Not that he needed added incentive. This selfish interlude of his wasn’t going to last much longer.

  Too many people needed his attention.

  Including Nicole, who was part confident, part defenseless, pure magic, and his. Trapping her between his hard body and the wall, he drove into her slick pussy over and over, plunging deep, then deeper still, his fingers sinking into her ass, holding her in place so he could zero in on all her special party zones. So he could make her pant faster and louder, so she got hotter and wetter, so his dick slid in and out as smooth as silk.

  “Oh God, oh God, oh God.” Breathy, gasping, shuddering from the rush of pleasure lighting up her nerve endings, she tightened her arms around his neck and stretched up to kiss him, impatient to feel him everywhere, trembling, heady with need, wanting to eat him alive.

  At first he smiled against her wild, frantic kisses, then growled when she nipped his lip. “Careful,” he warned.

  She nodded, then shook her head. “Can’t.” And bit him again.

  He went motionless for a stark moment. “You need some training.” His voice was taut with restraint.

  “No.”

  He gazed at her, exhaling a long, slow breath. “Just fucking behave, okay?”

  “Yes, yes,” she whispered, breathless. “You’re the boss.”

  The subliminal umbrage infusing the word boss warred with her incandescent gaze; he should have let it go. If he didn’t have tooth marks on his lip, he might have. Or if his default setting wasn’t seriously autocra
tic. “Tell me you mean it,” he muttered, absolutism in every syllable.

  She looked startled at first, then her gaze sharpened and if she’d had breath to speak she would have told him to fuck off.

  He exhaled hard, told himself to relax, told himself not to even think about going Neanderthal; seriously, there was no excuse for that kind of asshole behavior. Other than his wanting to own her, he supposed. He lasted maybe five seconds more before he thought, Fuck it all to hell, and, bracing his feet, he flexed his powerful legs and drove into her slick, pulsing heat with the entire force of his lower body. At the stunning impact, their breathing faltered, every libidinous nerve was hammered with raw, riveting sensation, and the game suddenly ticked up a notch.

  Her heart racing, the hot, feverish center of her body gorged and vibrating, overwhelmed and frantic, Nicole sucked in a breath, then bit Rafe’s lip so hard that if it had been anyone else, he would have dropped her on the floor.

  She wasn’t anyone else though. She was his compulsion, as deeply fucked up as that was right now with his world going to hell. She was in his heart and bones, his smart-ass, no bullshit stubborn princess who made life worth living. He suddenly smiled, recognizing the blinding joy in what had always been a cliché.

  But she was whimpering—a sound of impatient need—so he dismissed joyful epiphanies, licked the blood off his lip, and hurried the fuck up. Adjusting his dick to exert more pressure on her swollen clit and G-spot, he slid into her honeyed warmth and pressed upward gently, indulgently, deeply, until she was shivering, panting, barely holding on. “Good to go?” A rhetorical question; he was already shifting her hips to refine the sensory impact of his dick on her throbbing tissue, forcing her thighs wider, waiting patiently for her pliant flesh to slowly stretch and take him all in. Oh fuck.

  She gasped, lavishly filled with cock, sensory overload hitting her square-on and fast. Burying her face in Rafe’s shoulder, she held on tightly as the next rush of blazing-hot rapture spiraled through her sex, curled her toes, and made her body hum and spark.