Her Enemy Protector (11 page)

His mouth tilted into a crooked grin. She stopped. Frowned. That almost looked like an apology. And then it hit her. This was more of the clueless but love-struck routine he’d pulled on her father downstairs. Knowing what a bright, sophisticated guy he actually was, she’d been shocked to the point of laughter when he’d done it the first time.

Joe took her hand to lead her inside. To her bed.

Oh, God. Her bed. She balked against the tug of his hand before she even reached the French doors.

He looked over at her with concern and mumbled, “There are cameras out here. Even if it is dark, they can still see some of what we’re doing. You need to look a little more willing to go to bed with me. I won’t pull anything with you, I swear.”

Her first impulse was to do a little swearing herself in response to that promise. But that wasn’t the point. She was scared to death of her bed. Not of being in it with Joe, but of the bed itself.

And he wanted her to climb into it. To lie where Tony had lain, where his blood had soaked her clothes and skin…. Horror bubbled through her.

“Come inside, princess. Please,” he coaxed her under his breath.

Taking a deep breath, she bolstered her courage and stepped through the door. She could do this. Her freedom— heck, maybe her life—depended on it. It was just a stupid phobia. She could overcome it. She was stronger than her fear.

Joe closed the French doors behind her, bathing the room in darkness. And the memory of that devastating spill of blood flooded Cari’s mind’s eye, creeping across the floor to reach out and grab her. She barely suppressed an urge to jump up on the couch like a woman on a chair, hiding from a mouse.

She made out Joe’s frown. Questions raged in his eyes, but he dared not voice them aloud for fear of the bugs that he rightly guessed peppered this room.

“Come to the bathroom with me,” she announced. He stared at her in surprise. “I need help with my zipper. It’s stuck and we’ll be able to see it better in there.”

“Uh, okay,” he mumbled.

She turned the water on full blast in both of the sinks as soon as he closed the door behind them. She swallowed her pride and stepped close to him. She leaned forward reluctantly and confessed in a whisper, “I’m afraid of my bed. I haven’t slept in it since…” Her voice cracked.

“Ahh.” Enlightenment dawned in his eyes. And that looked like relief, too. “So it’s not me you’re afraid of?”

She blinked, startled. “Of course not!”

He exhaled hard. “Thank God. I was trying to figure out what I’d done to freak you out so bad.”

Her cheeks heated up. “You’re fine. It’s just the idea of lying where all that blood was…”

He drew her into a hug. “Aww, baby, I understand. You don’t have to explain. You’re authorized to freak out over that.”

She collapsed in relief against his shoulder. “I feel like such a wimp.”

“That kind of a shock has broken strong men. You’re no wimp, Cari.”

She smiled against the warmth of his silk shirt. “You don’t hate me?” she asked in a small voice.

His chest rumbled with a chuckle. “Of course not.”

“So maybe you’d kiss me again?”

He went rigid beneath her. Cleared his throat. “You think that’s a good idea?” he asked dubiously.

She buried her face in his neck rather than look up at him as she muttered, “I happen to think it’s a great idea. But if you don’t want to, I get the picture. I won’t bug you again…”

A finger hooked under her chin, nudging her face up. “I happen to think it’s an outstanding idea, too.”

His smile positively incinerated her. And then his mouth swooped down, capturing hers with just enough aggression to make it crystal clear exactly how good an idea he thought it was. Somewhere in the background, she heard the water go off and the bathroom door open, but she didn’t care.

His lips were warm and smooth, rubbing across hers with finesse. Enough of the gentleman, already! She didn’t want finesse—she wanted the inferno from the nightclub.

She clenched her fists in the fine silk of his shirt and tugged him closer. “I want a real kiss, dammit!”

He laughed, deep in his throat. And complied. Oh, God, did he comply. His whole body wrapped around her, bending her backward beneath him, the heavy thickness of him pressing against her belly, his arms impossibly strong as they supported her. This was no refined gentleman, dipping his tongue in and out of her mouth in the rhythm of wet, hot sex. This was an alpha male, powerful and in control.

Oh, how she liked that. She got so sick of college boys kissing her like they were scared to death her father was going to burst in at any second and break them in half. And then there were the types that styled themselves great lovers and got so caught up in being suave they forgot to enjoy it. And, of course, she couldn’t forget the selfish jerks who treated her as if she was little more than a life-size plastic doll.

Joe’s hands stabbed into her hair, pulling her head back, opening her to him as he leaned down, kissing and licking and sucking his way down the column of her neck.

“You taste so good,” he rasped. “I can’t get enough of you.”

She tugged on his hair, pulling his mouth back up to hers. “So do you,” she mumbled against his mouth. “You taste like coffee with cream and a shot of whiskey.”

“Baby, you taste like great sex,” he growled back.

One of his hands slid up her naked thigh to her hip, pushing her flimsy skirt aside and tracing the route of her thong downward toward her throbbing center. Her thighs went soft and she moaned as she took a step, spreading her feet shoulder width apart to allow him better access.

His hand closed over her wet heat and she all but flung herself at him as lust roared through her. This man would make love to her like an adult. No adolescent fumbling around. No self-centered performances that treated her like a blowup doll. This man would take them both to the stars and back.

He stepped backward and she followed, chasing his body heat and addictive mouth shamelessly. He laughed as his thighs bumped into something. Then he grabbed her with both arms and fell backward. She started as they bounced onto the bed.

And she froze.

“You’re not lying on the bed, baby,” he murmured. “You’re lying on me. Focus on my mouth.”

And then his hands were on either side of her face, drawing her down, down into a sweet void where nothing existed but his body cushioning hers, his arms holding her close, his mouth sliding across hers, sipping at her like a fine brandy.

She moaned her pleasure shamelessly.

And he laughed in return, a sound of exultation. Of possession. Of soul-deep pleasure. “Come here, princess. I want more of you.”

“I don’t think there’s another inch of me that can get into more contact with you than it already is,” she protested.

His hips rolled ever so slightly against hers.
Oh.

“Well, there is that,” she laughed.

He rolled over, pinning her for a moment against the mattress. And before she could finish the tensing that rippled across her shoulders, he bounded to his feet, pulling her with him.

“More,” she demanded, stalking him like a tigress.

“Patience, love,” he murmured. “We’ve got all night.”

Oh, my. She liked the sound of that.

“Stay right here. I have to get something.”

She looked around. “Here” was right in front of the French doors, all the way across the room from her bed. How had they gotten over here? Damn, that man did crazy things to her head. She shouldn’t be having these feelings for him. But for crying out loud, the man kissed like a god.

And then there was a giant heave on the other side of the room. Her entire bed moved, the covers went flying and the top mattress slid sideways. What in the world?

She watched, bemused, as Joe grabbed an armload of blankets and pillows and carried them over to where she stood. He dumped them on the floor at her feet.

He murmured in a low voice that barely carried to where she stood only a foot away, “For what it’s worth, that’s a new mattress. It’s not the same one as—well, the same one. There’s no way to remove a bloodstain like that from a mattress, and yours is pristine.”

She all but sobbed in relief at that revelation.

Joe went back to the bed and dragged the heavy queen-size mattress across to her. He dropped it with a heavy whump to the floor.

A voice called through the hallway door, “Everything all right in there?”

Joe glared over his shoulder and called out loudly, “It’s our wedding night, for God’s sake. We’re not exactly sleeping in here, you moron!”

Cari slapped a hand over her mouth and burst into giggles.

Grinning and rolling his eyes, Joe positioned the mattress in front of the French doors and efficiently remade the bed. Then, with a flourish, he presented her with the makeshift bed.

That was possibly the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her. She smiled up shyly at his image swimming in her tears, then whirled and headed for the dresser in the corner. She dug around, found what she was looking for and headed for the bathroom.

“I’ll be right out,” she called over her shoulder.

She changed quickly into a filmy, white negligee she’d ordered from Paris a few months back. It was made of silk so fine it was nearly transparent, and it weighed hardly more than a magician’s handkerchief. She’d never worn it before. She hadn’t been consciously saving it for a special occasion, especially since lately her love life was more monkish than not. But as she slipped it over her head and let it float down around her naked body, she had to wonder if maybe she’d known subconsciously that this night and this man were about to come into her life.

The silk fabric flowed like a warm breeze over her skin. She adjusted the tiny little rosettes of pastel ribbons that held it up at her shoulder and brushed her hair quickly. When she stepped back into the bedroom, the French doors stood wide open, letting in a cool breeze and the rhythmic pounding of the surf. Joe was already in their bed, the covers pulled up to his waist. His chest was bare. Oh, Lord. Was he naked under there?

Her heart beat wildly at the idea. As she walked toward him, she pictured what he must look like under the sheet, and the image stole her breath away. And then she noticed the way his gaze was roaming up and down her body, absolutely inhaling the sight of her, and what little breath she had left escaped in a whoosh.

He held up the covers for her in silent invitation. And the world disappeared once more, narrowing down to this man and this moment, this dark cavern of linen and flesh, safety and—

She sank down to her knees and eased into the bed beside him. It was warm from his body heat. She was disappointed to discover he was wearing a pair of shorts, but in the next instant, he drew her against that lovely chest and everything else melted from her mind.

It all crowded in on her again, everything she’d ever wanted and more. A flesh-and-blood man holding her, protecting her,
loving
her.
Hello, reality check. Total stranger only here to rescue her. Not happily-ever-after guy.
But darned if he didn’t feel like that guy as he held her close. Gradually, the dream retreated—not a lot, but enough to breathe.

He propped himself up on an elbow and gazed down at her, his body perfectly still but his eyes ablaze. “You are, without a doubt, the most stunning woman I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he murmured.

She reached up to smooth her fingers along his jaw. “You’re not so hard on the eyes yourself, Mr. Smith.”

“Ah, Cari, Cari. What am I going to do with you?” he murmured.

Her lips curved into a sultry smile. “Do you want me to suggest a few answers to that question?” she replied.

“No. Definitely not,” he answered almost sharply. He rolled onto his back beside her, an arm flung over his face. “Don’t tempt me,” he mumbled from under his elbow.

She grinned up at the ceiling. Tempting, was she? She could live with that. A cool breeze whispered across her skin and she drew the covers up. Joe’s hand was there immediately, tucking the blankets in around her shoulders.

He murmured, “If you get cold, let me know and I’ll close the doors. I thought you might like to hear the ocean, though. It always helps me sleep.”

She replied, “If I get cold, I’ll snuggle with you. I can feel your body heat all the way over here.”

A pause. A clearing of the throat. “That works, too.”

She smiled into the darkness. And fell asleep with a smile still on her lips.

But the next morning, along with the sun came the reality check she’d been incapable of last night. She looked over at Joe and saw a mature man lying beside her. He was
so
out of her league. Who was she trying to kid?

Besides, she hardly knew him. She had no idea what his agenda was. Bitter experience had taught her that he’d get over his infatuation with her soon enough and emotionally abandon her. She’d read books about men who stayed loyal to the women they loved, but she’d bloody well never seen any of them.

Her father’s men who actually bothered to engage in relationships went through women like shoes. They put them on, wore them out, and then discarded them. According to Julia, by the time her father had gotten around to killing her mother, all Inez had felt for her husband was terror, and all he’d felt for her was contempt. As a kid herself, her father’s attention had come and gone as his career and time allowed.

Love wasn’t a rock; it was water. It ebbed and flowed, flooded and dried up, depending on the landscape and the capricious weather of life. It certainly wasn’t something to count on.

Joe would get her out of here, and then he’d get on with his regularly scheduled life. If she let him, he’d love her and leave her like everyone else did.

She sighed. Sure he kissed amazingly well, but was it worth getting her heart broken over? Probably not. As hot to trot as he made her feel, lust was a purely transient thing. It would pass. It always did.

“Hey, princess,” Joe murmured beside her.

She rolled onto her side. His hair was tousled and a hint of whiskers shadowed his jaw. In the daylight, his bare chest was a sight to behold, wrapped in hard muscles, bronze flesh, and a sprinkling of dark hair. Okay, so in the meantime, he was a gorgeous hunk to wake up to.