Diamond Legacy (29 page)

Miranda wasn’t even startled. She figured he’d show up sooner or later. “I guess this saves me the trouble of trying to find you. You realize I have no idea how to reach you?”

His expression landed somewhere between surprise and worry. “I haven’t given you my cell phone number?”

“No.”

He scribbled it down on a small notepad, ripped off the page, and handed it to her. “So what’s with the visitor?”

“Completely unexpected, and his timing couldn’t be worse,” she said and stuffed the number into her shorts pocket. “Not to worry, though. Jason, the self-appointed guardian of my love life, isn’t happy about Hank’s arrival and will keep him distracted with tourist stuff. Now tell me about Panjami. What did you find?”

“A bare bones staff and a German Shepherd guard dog. What does Hank want from you?”

“I’ve avoided asking him that question. The possible answers scare me. So did you get inside and have a look around?”

“I did. And why does he scare you?”

She was more interested in Panjami than Hank’s intentions. “
He
doesn’t scare me. What he’s looking for does. Now, about Panjami?”

“From what I’ve seen you’re hardly afraid of anything,” Matt scoffed. “Why him?”

She sighed. Apparently she’d get nothing out of him until she satisfied his curiosity. “Because Hank wanted me to give up field work, settle down, and be a proper wife.” She shifted on the bench, sitting up straighter. “I couldn’t do it.”

Matt’s frown deepened into a scowl. “So, Mr. Clean Jeans is here to get you back, isn’t he?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” She frowned right back. She couldn’t tell if Matt deliberately tried to distract her from the subject, or if he actually felt concern over Hank’s appearance.

“Forget about Hank,” she said. “The important thing right now is Panjami. Before you drive me crazy, will you please tell me what you found?”

He rubbed absently at his chin, as though debating her request. “I watched the grounds all day and eventually called Nik. He met me there last night, and we went in together. It’s a good-sized place, and in the mechanic’s garage we found a stack of cages with the phony bars. You know, this guy has to be pretty serious about you if he flew all the way here for unfinished business. And just what might that be, anyway?”

“Will you stop?”

“It’s a grand gesture he’s made. Doesn’t it impress you?”

“Sure it does. What it doesn’t do is change my mind. Now, what else did you see?”

The stubborn set of his jaw said he didn’t want to talk about it.

He underestimated her determination. “You aren’t giving me anything here. Now start talking, or I swear I’m going to hurt you.”

His brows lifted in interest. “Hurt me? How?”

“Matthew Bennett!”

“Okay, okay. But you shouldn’t make promises you won’t keep.”

She recognized an evasion tactic when she saw it. “You are stalling. Hand over the details, Mr. Bennett.”

He sat back on the bench and sighed. “A search of the main building turned up a diamond cutting lab and a floor safe chock full of semi-cut stones. Along with a sizeable amount of cash.”

“How did you open a floor safe?”

He lifted a brow with a look that said “don’t ask.”

“That’s what I thought. So I’ll add safecracking to your list of dubious skills.”

He offered a nonchalant shrug. “It pays to be well-rounded in my line of work.”

She let that one go and concentrated on the bigger issue. “A safe full of diamonds must mean a shipment is being prepared for transport.”

“It’s a strong possibility. Nik is placing a couple agents to watch the place.”

“What can we do to protect Katanga?”

“
We
will do nothing. I will be tracking the movement to fight the sale of weapons those diamonds will fund.”

That sounded impossibly dangerous to Miranda. “Why you? Can’t Nik set a couple of agents on that, too?”

“What’s the matter? Worried about me?”

He had that lopsided grin she both loved and hated. To her, it meant he wasn’t taking the matter serious enough.

“Me worried about a devil-may-care agent with a death wish? Of course not. I’d be better off spending my time ensuring Katanga stays out of the crossfire.” It was a blatant lie, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Now you’ve hurt my feelings.” He stared off into the night like some desolate and heartbroken poet. “You’ve a meager heart, Miranda Parrish. Maybe I should warn Hank about you.”

“Maybe you should consider taking up an acting career. It’s far less dangerous.”

“Does Hank know this mean side of your nature?”

“I’m a solid sweetheart,” she scoffed. “Blame yourself for my mean streak. You bring out the worst in me.”

“What are you going to do about him?”

“I suppose show him a little of Africa.” Her hands were on the edge of the bench, and she leaned forward, staring at her shoes. “He did come an awfully long way.”

“And just how are you going to play tour guide with him and protect Katanga at the same time?”

She glanced over then, looking for any sign of dependability. “I’d like to think I could count on you to help.”

“You mean play bodyguard while you date some other guy?” he asked incredulously.

“I’m not dating him,” she argued. “He’s a friend who took a big step out of his ordinary world to come here.”

“A friend that wants to walk you down the aisle.”

Angry and confused, Miranda stood up. “And this matters to you how?”

“It matters because he’s going to get in the way.” Matt also stood and faced her with matching anger. “It’s bad enough that you are involved in this damn diamond smuggling investigation. Now I’ve got to worry about a pencil pushing accountant who thinks he’s on some romantic journey!”

“He’s not an accountant. He’s the staff director.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said with rising heat, “he’s trouble.”

“Are you sure you aren’t feeling peevish because a rival male has arrived on the scene?”

“Peevish? Damn right I’m feeling peevish.” He grabbed her then and yanked her up against his body. “Are you sure you aren’t feeling peevish because I haven’t kissed you in what seems like years?”

“Don’t even think you can—”

He didn’t let her finish the sentence. His lips captured hers and made good on his threat.

* * * *

God, she tasted good. She fit his frame perfectly, everything touching exactly as it should, and the friction created as she shifted to better mold against his body teased him mercilessly. Never had he met a girl who so exasperated and ignited him as thoroughly as she did.

He wanted her. He shouldn’t have her. The right thing to do was back out of the picture right now. He came here tonight to do just that. Instead, he sent confusing signals, one minute determined to walk away, the next acting like a jealous lover. What the hell was wrong with him?

Trouble was, he liked her. He liked her nerve, her spirit, the easy way she adapted to any surrounding. And more than that, he liked the way she tasted and smelled, the way she fit in his arms. He wanted to fill every last evening she had in Africa with steamy molten passion. Make crazy hot love to her until she lay exhausted, then do it all again.

But guilt got in the way. She deserved better than a man locked on a vendetta. She deserved someone like Hank. Stable, dependable, house in the suburbs kind of Hank.

The very thought made him furious, and the pressure of his kiss increased. His arms wrapped around her, hugging her every curve, and with a sharp tug he eliminated the last inch of space between them. She never flinched, only turned soft and pliant in his arms, returning his kiss with a passion that consumed him.

The pressure of her breasts against his chest was agony. Something he sought to make worse by rubbing a forearm over her gently rounded bottom, pulling her closer against his fast-growing arousal.

A low growling moan surrounded them, but he didn’t know if it came from him or her. All he knew was that he had to have her, right now, before his mind gained any kind of control and reasoned him out of it.

He lifted her in his arms and carried her the last few feet to her cabin. She had the key in her hand, but he wouldn’t release her, just angled her enough that she could unlock the door. He carried her across the threshold, then kicked the door shut with his foot. She squirmed to get down, but he refused.

She belonged to him. It was irrational and foolish and inescapable. And before this night was through, she’d know it too. He entered the bedroom and tossed her on the bed, following her down with every intention of ravishing her until she lay spent and exhausted.

* * * *

She knew what was coming and couldn’t wait. Knew it was shameless, too, but she wanted him and didn’t care that her heart would be shattered when her time here ended. She had two weeks. Better than that, she had right now.

He claimed her heart with his kiss, kept her breathless with wanton anticipation as he explored every inch of her. His hands left nothing untouched as he rubbed, teased, and kneaded her skin.

Somehow during the process, he’d divested her of all clothing, his too, and they were gloriously naked with limbs intertwined, skin against skin, awash in erotic sensation.

There existed an unspoken challenge, a need that radiated from him, and she responded by giving herself over to his lovemaking. Every touch, every caress, linked her irrevocably to him. There was no turning around, no holding back. He demanded it all, and she willingly surrendered.

It was easy, so incredibly easy to do. She loved the way he touched her, the way his weight nestled her into the softness of the bed when he rolled on top and kissed her. She loved the feel of his skin, and ran her hands over his back, enjoying the play of hard muscle beneath her palms. This wasn’t like the night under the stars. That had been urgent, explosive, fiery. This was a slow burn, a possession, and when his head lowered to her breasts to nip and taste, his tongue swirling over her hardened nipples, she arched her back, offering herself fully, begging for more.

“God, you are so beautiful,” he whispered against her skin. “A slice of heaven.”

His lips left a trail of fire wherever they touched. She welcomed the scalding heat, wanting this moment to brand her, to live indelibly in her memory when it came time to go home.

Her heart cried out in denial, refusing to face the reality just yet. It would come soon enough. She pushed all thought away and focused instead on the incredible pleasure he offered, the path of his kisses as he moved steadily lower, across the flat plane of her stomach and inching toward her center. He teased her mercilessly with his fingers, sliding a hand down her leg and under her knee, gently lifting, slowly pushing her over the edge of erotic need.

When his mouth finally took possession of her, she nearly screamed in relief. A delicious tension began to coil within her as his fingers slid inside, building a tempo of pulse-pounding lust that spiraled her ever higher, driven by the magic of his tongue. The tension escalated, and she tightened around his fingers. She moaned deep and arched against his mouth, crying out as sweet release crashed over her in waves.

Still, he gave her no quarter and continued his exploration, taking full advantage of her languid state to learn every curve and valley. But she grew restless. He tried to keep her at his mercy, but she refused. She needed to know every inch of him, memorize every wonderful line and plane of muscle.

She demanded equal time and massaged his skin, took his lead and tasted every spot that caught her fancy. From the corded muscles in his neck and across the span of his broad shoulders she nibbled, as her fingers caressed the silky hair covering his sculpted chest.

She breathed deep his scent and closed her eyes on a sigh. He even smelled wonderful. So warm, earthy, and elemental…so incredibly
male
. “You are so primal…so wild.” She struggled to find the words to tell him that he was every fantasy she ever had and more.

“You can’t resist me,” he said with smug assurance. “I have zing.”

She laughed low, a deliberate sultry sound designed to tease. “You’re right. I can’t resist touching you here.” Her hand slid down his hard abdomen, her fingers tracing the tantalizing line of hair that led downward.

His breath caught, and his eyes went from teasing to steamy.

“I can’t resist kissing you here.” Her lips followed the line of her fingers, nipping at muscles grown taut in anticipation.

When he moaned deep in his throat, she grew bolder still and straddled his hips with provocative invitation. She teased him, only to retreat and continue her exploration. She grasped his erection with both hands and his hips lifted into her touch.

“Miranda.” Her name was spoken like a plea.

He didn’t wait for her response. With a fierce growl he grabbed her by the shoulders and rolled her onto her back, following her down and fitting himself intimately against her. He pushed against her center and demanded welcome. She was more than ready and opened for him.

He plunged inside, and the pressure of him filling her was sweet beyond belief. She wanted to stay this way forever, a part of him, connected and one.

As he moved above her, she squeezed her muscles around his length, smiling in satisfaction when he shuddered and his face turned stark with building passion.

He moved faster, their bodies soon covered with a fine sheen of moisture. She focused on his every pleasure to burn the memory into her mind, but she could stand it no longer. She closed her eyes and gave in to the ecstasy of the moment, gave in to his mastery.

She rose with him on every stroke, every panting breath, and when he cried out with fulfillment she met him there, riding the waves of orgasm until every shiver stilled.

He collapsed, his weight pinning her down, and she welcomed it. Her last coherent thought before drifting off to sleep was how much she loved him.

To hell with the price she’d pay in the end.

Miranda had no right to be furious. None whatsoever. So what if she’d woken up this morning riding a sky-high wave of anticipation, only to have it instantly evaporate when she’d rolled over and found Matt gone.