Out of the Fire (Perilous Connections) (2 page)

“Dammit,” I swear viciously, raise
my hand again but instead another possibly more effective means leaps to mind.

I slam my mouth down hard on
hers.

She gasps,
the sound riveting, blowing moist air between my lips. I am at best dimly aware of it.

She tastes
like a newly ripened fruit, sweet, tart, utterly delicious, I pluck at the velvety softness of her upper lips. My loins tickle, catch, roar to life. Darn it, it had been too long, distant thoughts of Stacy disappear, scorched from my memory, I seek deeper and find the tip of her tongue.

Oh but she tastes
good, even better than she looks which is extraordinary. I have to fight to keep my eyes open. My kiss had started out hard out of necessity to stifle her scream, but now I discover that I have no intention to lighten it up or retreat. I plow my tongue deeper into her mouth, sip at her depths, my eyelids are growing heavy of their own accord. Thick, cloying pleasure rumbles into my veins, going lower, my nostrils flare, intoxicated with her scent.

I want her.

It’s a relief and a curse, she will be an impediment but one I fully intend to utilize to my benefit. Even amidst the lust induced haze, I curse myself for having gotten rid of Stacy five days before our “little,” honeymoon here was over, another roll would’ve saved me from this, at least partly. Okay, maybe not all.

I start to summon the strength to pull back, and then am
azingly I feel her coming forward. She is actually leaning into me, her small, firm breasts pressing into my chest, wreaking destruction throughout my already short-circuiting system, her head no higher than the middle of my chest, arch upward, maintaining the lock between our lips.

There’s a bed behind me, and two long steps in the opposite direction will bring me to it. I almost turn, with her clasped in my arms, before I summon the courage to stop myself.

I force my body to comply and it achingly releases her lips for a few seconds, allowing us to draw breath. Amid the harsh sounds of our air starved lungs, I get the reprieve I so desperately need and with it a sense of fate, I allow her another millisecond to gulp some air and then I swoop down on her again.

Chapter Three

Daphne

I can’t stop, I literally can’t stop, his mouth tastes so good, the toes curl back in my shoes. My heart which had been hammering in fear just seconds before now seems to have disappeared underground, swamped by sensations which weigh me down until I feel submerged.

He shifts, angles my head the way he wants. He deepens his access. Fresh tears but this time ones of wonder
and pleasure so intense engulf me, I want to touch him, I want to reach up to that massive chest, grasp handfuls of that beautiful, yet infinitely strange hair and pull him towards me. I have never wanted anything this much before.

I feel the
rising swell of desperation inside my body, it is beseeching me for a reprieve … and this douses me as nothing else could have, my arms come up, press against the steel of his chest and I use his power to thrust myself away.

He releases me, the sound of
our mouths coming apart a sinful echo in the room.

I stagger backward, he doesn’t move. I scrub at my lips,
watch those completely silver eyes freeze over at the slight. Yet his gaze still flickers to my mouth!

My face goes up in flames.

He clears his throat harshly, the sound jars the freshly loosen bolts inside me. All of a sudden I am frightened but not of the obvious, rather of what I sense instinctively I have little hope of controlling.

His
gaze lingers for a few more seconds on my aching mouth, then lifts to my face, he is eyeing me like a prey! “I didn’t mean to do that.”

I feel as if my little brother h
as cannonballed into my stomach, the air and a rush of intense humiliation or is it pain assails me, I fight to muster my defenses, I stiffen my spine and my outrage makes a timely reappearance.

I flatten my lips into a hard line,
tilt my head to the side, eye him coolly. But a small voice inside my head tells me that a man who kisses a woman like that is not a completely insane maniac at least that is what I want to believe, however my beliefs and reality have not synched up for a while now.

But I have to know.
“What do you want from me?” I was proud of the braggadocio in my voice, if only I was that strong nine months ago, even yesterday.

He grins
, giving me my first full look at white, slightly crooked teeth, the imperfection strikes me as being quirky, charming.

I squash the thought ruthlessly
. I do not care about his crooked teeth or his tan or his kisses … my cheeks burn from the last lie, I hope he doesn’t notice the tell-tale sign beneath my butterscotch colored skin. After all this man is demented and holding me prisoner for crying out loud!

He rolls
a large shoulder, apparently totally disinterested in my blush and outrage. He shoots a glance behind my shoulders, most likely at the door. His gaze swivels backs to me and the implacable hardness has returned. “Get me off the grounds and you will be well compensated.”

I rock back on my heels, my mouth drops open.
Why on earth would a tourist want to go inland? There is nothing there. No servants, no free food and definitely no clean towels that you didn’t launder yourself.

But
he looks unmoved by my reaction, his gaze is intent and … savage. The sea churns mysteriously in his eyes.

I shake
my head. “We have security checkpoints.”

He snorts
in dismissal, the elegant roman nose flaring perfectly. “I’ve seen your security checkpoints and a well-placed diversion is enough to get them to look the other way for long enough.”

I purse my lips. He is
right. Donald is a jerk, a deplorable womanizer who would eye you like a starving dog but just as quickly look the other way for a suitable bribe. I’d even heard of a small coffee table being smuggled through unto the bus but a human male topping, my eyes travel to the top of his head, easily 6’ 4? There was no way I‘d be able to do it, nor did I want to. I start to back away towards the door.

His deep sigh pierces
the throbbing silence between us. “Please don’t try that again …” then his eyes crinkle wickedly, “unless you want to repeat our performance.”

Fury and a good dose of guilt roars
into my ears, my eyes narrow as I glare at his smug expression but I still have to get away and to do that safely I have to calm down, try and appear reasonable to him. I force my face into regretful lines.

He tosses back his head and shouts
with laughter.

My intentions fly out the door.
“You bastard.” The words are out before I can stop them, my hands ball into impotent fists once more.

He is still chuckling, he ru
ns the back of his hand across his forehead, his chest shakes with his suppressed mirth. After several seconds the rumbling dies down.

I say a prayer that somebody has heard him, has
realized that only a maid should be in this vacated room. Several maids had been let go for their willingness to stay overlong in a randy guest’s room.

He tries
to look contrite but fails, worse yet the corners of his mouth twitches with malicious glee, then he goes eerily still, all traces of mirth vanish.

Fear crawls
up my spine once more.

“Listen little
-“

There were
some things that not even hostage-hood would make me tolerate. “Don’t call me that,” I snap.

He tips his head to the side, eyes
me silently for several seconds, the emotions in his face cloaked. “I apologize, no offense was meant.”

I know he is apologizing because he wants my compliance, and he doesn’t strive to hide it, looking into his eyes I can
see the truth, they are hard and resolute. I want eyes like that, just a touch of the unshakeable granite like nerve that I sense from this strange man.

He folds
his arms across his wide chest. “I will pay you five thousand American dollars to get me out of this hotel.”

My stomach hit
s the floor, the thought of so much money, more than I could earn in a year and a half was outrageous. It was like that publisher something house we’d often seen advertised but had no hope of entering much less winning. A deep pang of want assaults me like a starving wretch who spots a succulent, unprotected feast in the distance.

I
quickly lower my gaze to hide my raging need, it lands unerringly on my clean but shabby white sneakers, mandatory footwear. I could actually purchase new shoes with a tiny fraction of that money. Hell, twelve pairs!

I swa
llow down a truckload of materialism, and I accept with a pang of shame that I am no better than Donald.

But I can try.

I take in several dollops of moist, clean air, hopefully enough to give me back some courage. I firm my chin, look him in the eyes. “No.”

I catch a glimmer of a fearful temper just percolating beneath the hard surface, but he does not hide the determination in
his face. I swallow and keep his level stare with difficulty, “I won’t break the law for you.”

He
is beside me in an instant, long strides having devoured the few feet between us.

I squee
ze my shoulders into a protective curve, he stops, I deliberately lower my gaze, I can feel his gaze burning through the thickness of my bun. I have moaned incessantly about the thickness of my midnight hair but today I am thankful I haven’t lopped it off as I usually itch to do once a month. Today it is protecting me from the fiery glare of this crazy guest.

I lift my head with tremendous difficulty. “I’m not afraid of you,” the words are stammered
and I wince at the transparency of the lie.

He pauses right in front of me
, I have to crane my neck back and transfer my glare nearly two feet upward to reach my target, he lets the silence stretch out between us. It is a taunt, an intentional bullying tactic if ever I saw one and I’ve seen plenty.

He clears
his throat roughly. “I don’t want to hurt you,” his voice sounds reasonable, almost repentant, “In fact that is the furthest thing from my mind. I just need to get out of this blasted hotel and unto the island.”

There is frustration, anger and worse yet a whiff of fear that I catch in his voice. What could possibly scare this man?

Who is he, What was he? Why was he so intent on getting unto an island whose only beauty was actually sitting just outside this room’s window, lapping against the shoreline?

Was he a … a … the thought wouldn’t form. Somehow I just couldn’t feel it, didn’t sense it inside my bones. He was no murderer running from the law. I would have known
it the moment he touched me just like I had sensed the cruelty inside my stepmother the first time we’d met.

He
is waiting, letting me sort out my hesitation.

Finally I remember
something, someone, I stare beyond his massive shoulders, seeing nothing, feeling the shame stain my cheeks. “I will help you.”

Chapter Four

Nate

We are the last one
s to go through the checkpoint. She has followed my plan exactly. I am hiding behind the rough bark of a fat dwarf coconut tree, watching her distract the grinning idiot who is trying his utmost to look through the high collar of her demure cotton uniform. An instance of quick fury bludgeons me out of nowhere, I grimace at the mess this has already become, though the tense anger I’m experiencing is not foreign to my recently vacated profession, given its unpredictably perilous nature, I have learned over the years to be in complete control of it, but that is not the case now, I actually have to make myself stay behind the coconut.

I hate the way
the man is watching her, walking so close that the slight swirl of her hem is brushing the front of his trousers. He looks like a scumbag, with the swagger that comes when you think you’re about to score big.

She walks
quickly ahead of him, head bowed, little fists clenched, I smile at that, she is leading him in the direction of the pier several yards away, docked with multicolored jet skies. The man’s gaze is fixed on the subtle sway of those slender hips and I find myself staring too, the sweet taste of her mouth comes back.

I
snap myself to attention, this is my queue, the one I’ve been waiting for, for two utterly boring and unproductive weeks.