Black Jack (7 page)

opening. His tongue brushed over her lips, then stroked inside in a teasing little thrust that had

them both catching their breath when it deepened to much more than the gentle assault he’d

planned.

Once his tongue touched her, tasted the trace of beer and feminine warmth, Travis was lost.

He needed a hell of a lot more than a teasing taste.

As he held firm to her neck, his lips pressed down on hers, sipping from her lips, driving

his tongue deep inside the honeyed recess.

She set fire to him; there was no other way to describe it. She made him burn with need and

a hunger to possess her unlike anything he’d ever known.

There was something unique about Lilly. There always had been, he had to ensure that

there always would be.

As he felt her hands sliding up the leather covering his arms, the ragged need to have her

naked against him tore through his senses. He’d been too long without her. Now that he knew

the taste of her, the pleasure to be found with her, he wanted more. He wondered if he’d ever

have enough of her.

“Come with me,” he ordered against her lips before nipping at them seductively. “I

promise, you won’t regret it.”

Lilly had a feeling it would be the one thing she ended up regretting more than anything

else. But she didn’t want to resist either. She wanted to be wild and free with this man.

She didn’t remember the past six years, but she did remember the years before it. She’d

lived her life according to others’ expectations. Those of her parents, her friends, her

associates.

Her father expected her to follow in his footsteps as a purveyor of information to British

Intelligence and she had wanted that as well. She’d been trained young to step into the role,

just as her mother had begun training her young daughter to take her place in English society.

They had fought over that, she remembered. Her mother had no idea the work Lilly did with

her father, but she had known her husband often advised Lilly not to marry, not to commit

herself to another person.

She’d always done as she had been expected to do, as others had wanted her to do, as much

as possible. She had never, that she remembered, lived within the moment. Taken a chance.

Been wild and free. The woman Travis described wasn’t the woman Lilly remembered herself

being. She needed to know who that woman was.

“No censors?” she whispered, as his lips brushed over hers again.

“None.” He demanded another kiss, another melding of lips, stoking the heat between them

as Lilly gave into the pleasure.

It was incredible. No more than the touch of his lips on hers, his tongue stroking against

hers. His heartbeat pounded against her breasts—how had he managed to pull her so close

without her realizing?—his arms tight around her.

There was something about it that made her wonder if she had ever known passion before

him.

Something warned her that she had known it with this man, and only this man.

Pulling back, Travis stared down at her shadowed features and knew she would follow him.

He didn’t say anything. Instead he lifted the keys from the pocket of his jacket and moved to

his own motorcycle.

Straddling it, he pushed the key into the ignition. The two bikes started simultaneously.

Within seconds they were pulling away from the bar and heading through town.

Damn Elite Ops and the mission. It would end up destroying him and possibly Lilly as

well.

This was exactly what he hadn’t wanted. To see the pain and confusion that filled her eyes,

that was slowly tearing her apart.

There was instinct, suspicion, and what Travis knew was second nature. The fighter Lilly

was was instinctive. It was as much a part of her as breathing. As being.

With such instinct, with such pure strength as he knew Lilly possessed, the memories

would not be much further behind.

And now, they might well be closer than ever before.

The house he owned in Hagerstown was located in one of the more historic parts of the

city. It was two stories, brick, completely remodeled on the inside, with almost an acre of land

heavily bordered by a hedge of tall evergreen shrubs.

Hitting the remote programmed into the handle of the motorcycle, Travis slowed down for

the rising of the garage door, then pulled the bike inside. Lilly rode in beside him, shut the

engine to her own, and waited.

The door behind them slid closed with a squeak of the rubber seal against the cement.

“Nice.” Pushing the kickstand into place, Lilly swung off the seat and pulled the helmet

from her head as she looked around.

He knew what she saw beside the Jaguar sitting in the other bay. Travis Caine was wealthy,

a man who worked with the most exclusive, the most powerful men and women on earth. His

lifestyle reflected that. Beside the Jag sat a specially designed, security-upgraded Hummer.

Beside that was another motorcycle, one known for its reputation of speed, power, and

exclusivity. There were less than two hundred in the entire world.

“Very nice.” She didn’t touch it, not that Travis would have cared. The cycle had belonged

to the first Travis Caine, as had the house, the vehicles, and the funds he lived on. Funds

carefully monitored by the agency.

Travis was more interested in her shapely ass as she bent to look at the detailing of the

hand-stitched seat.

“Would you like a drink?” He strode to the well-stocked bar on the other side of the garage.

Hell, all he wanted to do was get her in the bedroom, and here he was, stuck, while she

admired his bike rather than his dick. Wasn’t that just his luck?

“No.”

“Shall we go in then?” Opening the door that led to the house, Travis entered ahead of her

and made for the kitchen.

Marble floors led from the small garage foyer to the kitchen and dining room.

The damned place must have been an exercise for that first Travis Caine in how much

money he could spend on a residence while keeping the outside so modest-looking.

Opening the refrigerator, he pulled two cold beers free and tossed a bottle across the room

to Lilly, watching her closely.

She caught it, without thinking, then stared at the beer in confusion before lifting her gaze

back at him. What he saw there made him want to curse. Confusion. Anger. Fear.

“You knew I’d catch it,” she whispered.

Unscrewing the cap with a deft twist, he tossed the metal disk to the counter before leaning

against it casually.

He shrugged. “You like beer.”

“I detest beer.” Lilly stared at the bottle again, a bit surprised that her mouth was watering

for the taste of it. Surprised that she actually wanted it.

“You learned to love it.” She watched him. “You told me once that until you had been

forced to drink it, you hadn’t known how good it could taste.”

“And how was I forced to drink it?” Lilly sighed wearily.

He chuckled. “We were in Mexico. It was my beer or their water. You chose my beer.”

She just bet she had.

“Why was I there, Travis?” she asked, barely able to push the words past her lips. “Why

wasn’t I home?”

No one else seemed willing to answer that question. Would he?

“It had something to do with what you saw the night your father was killed.”

Now, her surprise turned to shock.

She hadn’t expected him to answer her. She blinked back at him, wondering at the quiet

expression on his face as he continued to watch her closely.

“What happened that night?” She didn’t remember it. The last thing she remembered was

the party that night.

Travis stepped to the large, marble-topped kitchen island and stared back at her with a

heavy frown. “You said your father suspected someone of embezzling money. You said he had

been acting strangely that night and then he disappeared from the party. You went looking for

him and when you walked into his study, he was already dead.”

Lilly fisted her hands at her side and fought against the rage and the pain. Her father had

died that night, and she had been unable to help him. Unable to do anything but run,

apparently.

Shadows tangled together in her head. Like a fast-forward that went much too fast to make

sense of, images raced through her mind.

“So I didn’t see who killed him?” she asked. “I did nothing to save him?”

Travis shook his head. “We think you were knocked unconcious. And you suspected, but

never told me either way. You had issues trusting people, especially with your secrets.”

“I did nothing to prove my suspicions?” She heard her own voice roughen, felt the agony of

failure tearing through her.

“I didn’t say that, Lilly,” he retorted gently. “You’ve investigated. At times I’ve helped you,

but you always ran into a dead end. That doesn’t mean you haven’t tried.”

She swung away from him, fighting her tears.

“You were working covertly with MI5 before that night,” he continued. “You couldn’t risk

going to them, though. You trusted no one.”

“But I trusted you enough to tell you that?” She swung back to him, the anger and fear

eating at her now.

“We were close, Lilly,” he stated softly. “There were many times you trusted me. And there

were times you didn’t.”

At least he was admitting there were times she hadn’t trusted him.

“Where did we meet?” The question was a whisper, as she fought to put together the puzzle

of her life.

“We met in Israel. I was your trainer for a while.” With that statement he turned, opened a

lower cabinet door, and tossed the empty bottle away.

He moved with a predatory male grace, a sense of preparedness and yet casual laziness. She

couldn’t pinpoint the type of man he was, or even how trustworthy he was, and she

considered herself a rather perceptive person when it came to others, but she couldn’t read

him well.

She watched as he moved across the room to her. Silently. He was even more silent than

she was, and he was much heavier. There were muscles packed on that body.

“What sort of trainer?” she asked breathlessly as he came closer, brushing against her,

staring down at her with his heated gaze.

What did she want? Information or that hard, hot body moving against her, over her? Her

body was screaming for sex, her mind demanding answers and she was having trouble

deciding exactly which she wanted to give in to first.

“Hand-to-hand combat and weapons.” His head lowered, his lips brushed against her ear.

“You were a very good student too.” One hand gripped her hip and jerked her against the

steel-hard wedge of his cock beneath his pants as his fingers tangled in her hair to draw her

head back. “Teacher’s pet, actually.” His lips brushed hers.

Lilly caught her breath. She wasn’t a virgin, and if she had been this man’s lover then she

knew damned good and well she wasn’t inexperienced. But she felt innocent, caught in a web

of seduction and pleasure that was sensed rather than remembered, as she held her breath,

waiting for his kiss.

“Why are you here, Lilly? Information, or this?” He asked the question that raged through

her mind, but he gave her no chance to answer.

His lips pressed against hers, parted them, sipped from her as though arousal were an

ambrosia and he was dying for more.

His tongue stroked over her lips then slipped inside, caressed her tongue, licked, tasted. A

hum of pleasure left her as she felt her hands moving slowly up his hard arms. Over muscle

and flesh, tough, invincible, as he pulled her closer and lifted her tighter against him.

The hard proof of his erection nudged at her pussy. It pressed against her clit, rubbed the

material of her silk panties and the silk lining of her own leathers against the dampening folds

between her thighs.

Sexual need, excitement, and a rush of emotions that made no sense crowded in on her. Her

flesh heated, burned. Wherever he touched, wherever the warmth of his body caressed her,

triggered such a rush of pleasure racing through her that she felt dizzy.

Her knees were weakening. Didn’t that only happen in books and movies? Not in real life?

A moan whispered from her lips as her hands pushed into his hair, gripping the long

strands, feeling the coarseness of it, the cool, achingly familiar touch of it.

So little in her life was familiar anymore. This, though, this rocked through her system with

an awareness that she had been here before, that she had missed this, needed it. There was

also an assurance that she hadn’t had enough of it. Not yet. Perhaps never.

His kiss was black magic, there was just no other word for it.

“Travis.” She whispered his name as his lips slid to her cheek, the curve of her jaw, to her

neck.

Nerve endings tingled with a rush of pure sensation, white hot and intense as it washed

through her body.

Callused fingertips moved beneath the snug top she wore, caressed up, cupped . . . Jerking

her head back, Lilly fought to hold on to a sense of balance as the pad of his thumb raked over

her nipple while pressing beneath the lace of her bra.

It was exquisite.

As she arched against him her legs parted further for the hard thigh pressing between them,

lifting her, forcing her to ride the hard contours of his thigh as she ground her pussy against