Prodigal Son Page 13

“That’s true. It’s my job, and it’s the law. But if it wasn’t me, it would be someone else. If that’s going to come between us, then we stop now and walk away.”

  “I don’t want to stop.” She tried to ignore the heat flooding her system as he cupped the back of her neck and stepped closer. “Just promise me you’ll give me a chance to talk to him before you take him in.”

  He gave a nod. “If I can.”

  “And once Danny is out of trouble, I have to go back to New Jersey. I can’t stay here; I have a company to run.”

  “Let’s deal with that when we come to it.”

  She shook her head. “I think it’s better if we talk about it now.”

  He kneaded her nape, releasing some of the tension in the muscles. “Look, I’m not a long-term relationship guy. You should understand that right off the bat.”

  “You’d better tell me what that means.”

  He rested his forehead against hers, locking their gazes. “No other women for me while we’re together, no other guys for you, and no expectations of church bells and white picket fences. When one of us wants to end it, we end it.”

  “Either of us?”

  “Either of us. We both take the same risk here.”

  “What if we find Danny tomorrow?”

  “We can worry about that tomorrow. This thing between us … it’s strong. We can’t ignore it. And we have today.”

  “What if today isn’t enough?”

  “I like to live in the now. I’m not a settling kind of guy, Cara. If this isn’t right for you, then we walk away, no harm, no foul.”

  “It’s that easy for you?”

  “Hell, no. I want you badly.” He straightened and tried to smile, and the fierce need burning in those amazing eyes made her knees weaken. “But I’m a big boy, and this is about giving each other pleasure, not heartbreak.”

  “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  “It’s your choice, Cara. We can try and ignore this thing like we have been, or we can give into it. Let it burn until it’s sated.”

  “What if it’s not sated?”

  “Everything burns out eventually.” His expression sobered. “I don’t want to hurt you, Cara. If this isn’t right for you, tell me now.”

  She studied his features, the sun-bronzed complexion, the sharp cheekbones, the sensual mouth. And those eyes; she always came back to those stunning cobalt eyes that seemed to look right through her and see everything. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”

  “I could say the same about you. There’s something about you that calls me back even when common sense says to stay away.”

  The hint of irritation in his words brought a slow, womanly curve to her lips. She’d always been the nerdy geek with her nose in a book, smarter than most of her peers and ostracized because of it. Never had a man looked at her like she was beautiful, sexy, hot. Yet that was exactly how Rafe was looking at her, and she reveled in it.

  Maybe this was what she needed, a passionate affair with a man who reinvigorated her wounded feminine pride. Forget keeping a level head. Just once in her life she wanted to feel instead of think.

  She leaned into him. “Let’s go for it, for as long as it lasts.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She never looked away. “Yes.”

  Arousal swept his face, tautening skin over bone, narrowing his eyes and tightening his jaw. Her instincts collided—flee or yield. Panic or passion.

  He kissed her. Hunger that had only smoldered now flared to a blaze. She closed her eyes, sinking into the fire, opening, giving, surrendering. He slid his hand behind her head, holding her as he took what he wanted from her mouth, offered more. She reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck, seeking the adventure.

  Her towel slipped to the floor, and she didn’t care. A groan rumbled from his throat as he discovered her nakedness, smoothing his palm along the line of her back, over the curve of her bare hip, her buttock. She curled into his touch, her head spinning. Her insides bubbled like hot wax, and every stroke of his hand only turned up the heat.

  He broke the kiss an inch at a time. While she was still catching her breath, he leaned back, taking in every detail of her nudity. Nearly dizzy from his regard, she swept her damp hair back with both hands. The motion lifted her breasts, and he followed the movement, his blazing gaze nearly searing her flesh. She let her fingers trail down her body, skimming her shoulders, breasts, waist, hips, thighs.

  “You’re killing me,” he whispered, and held out a hand.

  She twined her fingers with his and allowed him to lead her to the bed, where he urged her without words to lie down. She stretched out on the mattress, inspired by the intensity of his regard to stretch out a little, pose a little. His jaw tightened, and he tugged at the top buttons of his shirt.

  “Do you want help?” she asked, arching against the mattress.

  He pulled a chain from around his neck and laid it on the nightstand. She caught a quick glimpse of some kind of copper-gold metal and clear crystal, but then he stepped forward to block her view, spreading his hands in wordless invitation.

  She scrambled to her knees and unfastened the rest of his buttons, spreading his shirt wide and sweeping her palms along the hair-roughened muscles. “Are you tanned all over?”

  “Why don’t you find out?”

  His teasing grin encouraged her to jerk the tails of his shirt out of his jeans, then tackle his belt. She fumbled with the buckle but finally unfastened it and popped the snap of his jeans.

  “Wow. Bad idea.” He grabbed her hand and pressed it against his zipper. “We don’t have a lot of time,” he murmured. “You’d better let me lead today.”

  She nodded, the hard flesh beneath her palm mute evidence as to her effect on him. Heat raced through her veins, leaving her shaking and hungry and wet. She rubbed her fingers against the bulge beneath the denim and he groaned, then pulled her hand away, putting it on her own female mound. “How about you rub this?”

  She tried to pull away, but he kept her hand imprisoned with his own, guiding her fingers, gliding over her damp flesh. Her breath caught. Her eyes slid closed as arousal flared hot and wild. He kissed her, his tongue mimicking the movements of their fingers. Her head spun.

  He eased her down on the bed, stroking her and kissing her and short-circuiting her normally busy brain. He caught her nipple in his mouth, sucking with a strength that sent need rippling through her and wrung a cry from her lips. She surrendered, allowing him anything, and he gave it all to her, caressing, nibbling, nipping. So many different sensations, so many surprises, so much emotion welling up inside her like a rising river until a final stroke of his fingers sent her soaring as her body exploded and reality faded away.

  She came back to herself moments later. The rustling of clothing had her opening her eyes just as a naked Rafe eased down on top of her.

  “My turn,” he murmured, then held her head between his hands and kissed her like he had all day.

  She relaxed into a puddle again, lost in his kiss, her body humming with the echoes of climax. When he nudged her thighs apart, she welcomed him, thrilled in the gentle tug of her muscles, the sweet, slow stretching as he eased into her body and began to move.

  For some reason she’d thought their lovemaking would be frenzied and uncontrolled, but the steady, deliberate coupling devastated any lingering uncertainties about her decision. He staked his claim in an utter, unmistakable taking that shattered her from the inside out, from the first moment he slid inside her until the instant he gripped her hard and groaned his own climax, burying his face in her neck.

  She went with him this time, sliding over that precipice, stroking the rippling muscles of his sweat-dampened back as her body sang a new song and her essence exploded.

  * * *

  A few minutes later, he lifted his head, sweeping her hair out of her face. “Hey there. You okay?”

  She nodded, still floating. How had she lived nearly thirty years a
nd never experienced anything like this?

  “I wish we could stay here all day.” He brushed a kiss on her lips, then gently disengaged their bodies. “But we’ve got people after us, and I can’t forget that.” He sighed and paused, resting his forehead against hers for a second. “I’ve got to get dressed and start loading up the car.”

  “Okay.” At her nod, he left her, the cool rush of reality chilling her sweat-dampened skin as he climbed out of bed. She glanced at the clock. “Wow, it’s later than I thought. I’ll get dressed.”

  “Good idea.” He dropped another kiss on her mouth and grabbed his clothes, heading toward the bathroom.

  She watched him go, admiring his trim backside as he disappeared into the other room. Holy Hannah, the man was hot. And she could touch that hotness whenever she wanted.

  At least until one of them decided to end it.

  Shaking her head, she stopped her thoughts right there. She wasn’t going to obsess about the future. She was going to try to live in the now for once in her life. And the now required that she get her butt out of bed and get dressed. They still needed to find Danny.

  By the time he came back out, cleaned up and dressed, she was standing naked in front of her carry-on suitcase, which she’d opened on the other bed. He came up behind her, trailing a hand down her back to rest on her butt.

  “Don’t be long,” he said. “We’re still ahead of our buddies, and I want to keep it that way.”

  She sighed. “I guess they probably got new tires, huh?”

  “I would think so.” His expression and tone were all business, but his gentle squeeze of her derriere told another story. “You have five minutes.”

  She laughed. “Good thing I already took a shower.”

  He picked up his duffel bag and her suitcase. “You got everything you need?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be right out.”

  “Okay.” He gave her a stern look, spoiled by the spark of desire in his eyes. “If you’re not out there in five minutes, I’m coming in after you.”

  “And then we really wouldn’t get out of here.” She made a shooing motion. “Go on. I’ll be right there.”

  He nodded and left.

  She turned back to her bag and pulled out clean underwear and clothes, then turned toward the bathroom. Something shimmered in the corner of her eye. She turned her head and saw that Rafe had left his pendant on the table. She hadn’t gotten a good look at it before, so she moved closer. It was a simple clear piece of crystal on a goldish-copper chain. Good luck charm, maybe? He hadn’t seemed to be the New Age type, but this was the west, and the culture was different out here.

  She shrugged and turned away. She’d make sure to give it to him when she went out to the car.

  * * *

  There was no going back now.

  Rafe loaded the bags into the back of the SUV, then headed over to the soda machine for another round of colas. His stomach growled, reminding him they’d never eaten the breakfast he’d bought. But other hungers were well and truly satisfied.

  Had taking Cara to bed been the wisest move? Probably not, especially since the shadow of death still lingered in her eyes. He usually made it a practice not to mix business with pleasure. But something about this woman would not leave him alone, and he’d hoped that a little healthy sex would take the edge off and allow him to focus. But the memory of that cat-and-canary smile she’d been wearing right before he’d climbed out of bed told him he’d been dead wrong. If anything, he wanted her more now that he’d had a taste of her.

  But what was done, was done. He’d accept the consequences of his decision. He’d laid it all out for her, and she’d made the choice of her own free will. They would ride this wave as long as it lasted.

  And somehow he would figure out how to save her life.

  As he got back to the SUV with the sodas, the hotel room door opened, and she exited the room, lugging her carry-on bag with her. He met her as she approached the front of the SUV. He handed her a soda, then took the handle of the carry-on from her. Their fingers brushed. Their eyes met. They exchanged a smile. Without a word he turned away and opened the back hatch to the vehicle, tossing the small bag on top of the other suitcases.

  “Thanks for the soda.” She came up behind him as he closed the door.

  “We forgot to eat.” He took her hand and walked her around to the passenger side. “We’ll stop and get some fast food somewhere.”

  “Okay.”

  He opened the door for her and she leaned in to set her soda in the cup holder, then slid back out again. “Oh, you left this inside.” She reached into her shorts pocket and held out her hand. The early morning sun gleamed off the clear crystal and orichalcum chain in the center of her palm.

  His world lurched. How could he have forgotten it?

  “Thanks.” He tried to keep his tone casual as he reached for it.

  “It’s very unusual.” She closed her fingers just before he snagged it and gave him an inquiring look. “You don’t seem like the New Age type.”

  “It’s got sentimental value, and I’d like it back.” He stared her down, fighting the Hunter’s urge to rip it from her hand. “Please.”

  Hurt rippled across her face, and she opened her fingers without a word. He reached for the crystal. The instant his fingers touched it where it rested in her palm, a wave of heat swept through him. Roaring sounded in his ears, and his vision darkened around the edges, leaving only Cara shining like a beacon at the center of it. She stumbled back a step with a cry of surprise. He grabbed the chain, yanking it away. The instant it no longer touched her, the world snapped back into focus.

  It isn’t just me; she feels it, too.

  The realization slammed into him. He’d once heard stories of mates using focus stones to center their energies and enhance sex. The clear crystal served as a tool for channeling power, and passion was definitely power. He’d never heard of anyone in recent memory actually trying it, but apparently Cara was tuned into him, and tuned into his focus stone. But that was impossible. They weren’t mates. They couldn’t be mates. He was destined to live alone.

  He bought himself a minute while he slipped the pendant over his head, tucking the crystal safely beneath his shirt with a hand that trembled only slightly.

  His own hunger for her had made him forget that people close to him tended to get hurt—which is why he took pains to keep everyone at a distance. He’d already seen the vision of her death; he had no desire to be the cause.

  She braced herself on the doorframe. “What the heck just happened?”

  “You feeling light-headed? You didn’t eat this morning.” He babbled the first logical explanation that entered his head as he extended a hand to assist her into the car.

  She narrowed her eyes and searched his face. “Right. That must be it.” Turning her back on his help, she clambered into the car under her own power, fastened her seat belt, then busied herself opening her soda, an unspoken DO NOT DISTURB sign flashing like neon between them.

  She hadn’t bought it. With a sigh, he closed her door and walked around to the driver’s side. She was stewing, and he wasn’t used to seeing the animated Cara so very quiet. He wasn’t sure he liked it. But maybe it was for the best, at least until that busy brain of hers rationalized the impossible.

  He got in the truck, fastened his own seat belt, then started the SUV. The sooner they left this motel—and its memories—behind them, the better.

  * * *

  “Good morning, Nicki.” Adrian Gray paused at the secretary’s desk when she didn’t respond. The young woman kept sorting through a huge pile of mail, utterly silent. “Nicki?”

  Still she did not respond. He crouched down, studied her face. Her waxen skin and the pale shadows beneath her eyes indicated a sleepless night. As she shifted, opening envelopes and moving them to different piles, he caught a glimpse of a bruise on her breast, peeking from beneath the edge of her low-cut blouse. Another on her neck, mostly hidden beneath her dark
hair.

  He raised his hand slowly and brushed her hair to the side to reveal not just a bruise on her neck, but a bite mark. She didn’t stop what she was doing, didn’t even seem to notice his presence, much less his touch. She might have been a robot.

  Sloppy, greedy fools. Teeth clenched, he moved around her, checking the other side of her neck. Another mark. Still she kept sorting her mail. Clearly, she had no idea he was even there.

  He got to his feet, fists clenched. He glanced down at her hands, saw red, burnlike welts around her wrists. She’d been tied up, used, and sent back to her desk, oblivious to what had happened to her and anything else happening around her. Ahantzi. It had to be.

  Using the chant of ahantzi for the simple expediency of sexual pleasure left a bad taste in his mouth. The ritual should be revered, studied, perfected—used in battle to make one invisible to one’s enemies, not for the common purpose of turning a woman into a sex slave. He knew who must have done this. Their carelessness would cost them.

  He stepped behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. “Sleep,” he commanded. She slumped forward, scattering her piles of mail. Adrian leaned down near her ear. “When you wake you will remember going to a party last night, one that got a little too wild. You will decide you are hungover and go home immediately.” He straightened, then moved down the hall a few paces as if he was just arriving. “Awaken.”

  She woke up, confusion on her pretty face as she looked around. Her gaze landed on him, and she sat up, sweeping her hair back over her shoulder. “Good morning, Mr. Gray.”

  “Nicki.” He stopped by the desk, gave her a concerned look. “Are you all right? You don’t look well.”

  “I don’t feel well.” She rubbed her forehead.

  “You should go home.”

  She thought for a moment. “That might be the best idea.”

  “Go on. I’ll clear it with him.”

  Nicki glanced at Bartow’s office door, hesitated, then finally nodded. “Thank you. I really feel horrible.”

  “Go ahead.” He waited while she got her purse out of the bottom drawer of her desk, smiling in encouragement as she stood, slipped the strap over her shoulder, and started down the hallway. “Feel better!” he called.