Читать книгу Her Last Protector - Jeanie London, Jeanie London - Страница 12

CHAPTER FOUR

DREW WASN’T SURE what awoke him, but he damned sure shouldn’t have been sleeping. The struggle to control his physical reaction to the feel of Mirie pressed against him had worn him out more than battling the snow.

He had wanted to stop time with the feel of her in his arms. But something was off with her. He sensed it, knew it was probably what had awoken him. He didn’t think she was asleep. Her body was too tense, too aware.

Scanning the shadows for any sign of a threat, he found the cave as he had left it, trusted his years of training to alert him to an intrusion. The fire was holding up, so he hadn’t been out for long.

Shifting against the wall, he glanced down at her, dark lashes forming half circles on her pale cheeks, her mouth parted around shallow breaths.

“Are you all right?” he asked automatically.

His voice intruded on the quiet, but her only reply was to nod. She surprised him by sliding her arms around his chest. Repositioning herself, she relaxed a little, but her breath hitched in her throat, an unexpected sound.

Frowning into her hair, Drew resisted the need to interrogate her. She was warm, so any threat of hypothermia was gone. She’d had a tough day, but she would deal with her losses, wouldn’t let him see her fear. That much he knew. If hanging on to him made her feel better right now, then he would find some way to cope.

Not by sleeping.

No, he had to remain stone-cold sober to this assault on his senses. The heat melded their skin together. Her hair tickled his nose with every breath. Her sleek curves unfolded against him so he could feel the length of her soft thighs, the way she fitted into the curve of his body.

She exhaled a sigh, and her mouth shuddered against his skin, soft and yielding. His pulse began to race, rebelling wildly against his best intentions. And they were the very best. Just useless against the feel of her in his arms. A familiar burning started inside, a reaction that was going toe to toe with his discipline.

Drew was having a tough day, too.

He would take armed assassins over facing down this humiliating lack of self-control.

Mirie had no idea she was playing with fire—and not the blaze making this icy cavern habitable, either. And he didn’t want to deal with the consequences of her realizing just how fragile his restraint was around her. He couldn’t afford any change that might jeopardize their relationship. He was her close-protection guard and a U.S. sleeper operative.

Not a man.

So with his jaw clenched tight, he forced himself to focus on making out the cave entrance beyond the firelight, the gray light from the storm beyond. He deliberated how to fashion a makeshift pan to melt snow. They would need water soon, and frozen snow was no option to quench thirst.

But how could he concentrate on anything but the way her breasts molded to his chest, the swelling softness pressed full against him? The skimpy fabric of her bra was no protection.

When she stretched against him, his pulse galvanized. He wanted to thrust off the cloak binding them together. Heightened awareness was making him read so much more into the moment than was possible.

Lust was making him lose his mind. And this was an argument not to ignore his needs the way he too often did. He was a man in the intimate employ of a woman he wanted but couldn’t have. Of course normal relationships were out even if he had wanted one—that was not the life he had chosen—but he never lacked for companionship when he was off duty, taking the occasional leave. They didn’t happen often, but he always tried to make the most of them when they did.

But if he had seen to his own needs, he might be able to resist Mirie now. She sought warmth and comfort, lying here in the arms of someone she should be able to trust, an entirely natural response to their situation. And he should be worthy of her trust. He should shut down reactions that were inappropriate at best, forbidden at worst.

Torture either way.

But Drew’s best intentions meant nothing when Mirie nestled still closer, nestled her face in the hollow of his throat. Not an accidental action, but an intentional one, an inquisitive one that ignited fire in its wake.

One purposeful touch, and the whole world shifted.

The boundaries that had long established their relationship dissolved as she leaned into him, a slight arch of her back that pressed her breasts against his chest and brought her mouth in line with the sensitive skin beneath his ear.

Her breaths came soft and warm against his skin, smooth, silken sighs. Had she noticed the way his every muscle had fossilized? Did she suspect that one touch would shatter his willpower into a million brittle pieces and litter this cave with his best intentions?

Drew didn’t know. He only knew his arms ached with the effort of holding her already. He couldn’t push her away or pull her close, because in this moment he was paralyzed by her vulnerability.

And his need.

* * *

HE TASTED MALE. Mirie wasn’t sure why she was so sure what male tasted like, since she had only tasted one man, and the actual details of long-ago teenage rendezvous had faded in the haze of years. Drei’s skin was the texture of rough velvet, faintly stubbled and redolent with a hint of sweat.

She was so aware of him, of the way his body surrounded hers, generously shared his heat. His strength beckoned her to stretch out against him, melt over the ridges and hollows of his hard muscles. She liked the solidness of him.

He was a man, not a boy.

Loneliness faded beneath this. She felt no embarrassment to be nearly naked in his arms, only awareness of him in a way she had never been before.

The feeling made perfect sense.

Drei felt right because he was right. The only person she could trust.

She had never thought of him as anything but her shadow. He was a fact of life that she had long ago accepted. He was always there and always had been.

She had never considered him as a man.

She’d been a child when he’d shown up. But that had been so long ago. A lifetime. Right now he was a man, and quite a handsome one with his gemstone eyes and chiseled strength. And not so old, either. What had once seemed ancient to a girl was nothing to the woman. Ten years. A decade on the rosary or all of God’s commandments.

How had she missed this? She had looked at him for years, but had never actually seen him until this very moment.

Arching her body lightly, just enough for her thigh to settle a little deeper between his, she tested the feel of her skin against the textured hardness of his, half-afraid he would stop her and demand to know what she was about.

But even worry left her feeling more alive than she had in so long. As the seconds passed, emptiness yielded to daring. It was easy to be bold in this moment. They might be dragged from this cave and shot, their bodies tossed into the gorge. They might slip into a calm death from exposure, locked together forever because the spring thaw never touched these peaks.

This man may yet give his life for her.

Perhaps they would survive, and the general and his men would collect them. They would remind her unnecessarily that the risks she took involved others by default. They would return her to the royal compound, and life would go on, never-ending commitments that blurred days into loneliness. Her whole existence strung along by tiny triumphs after hard-won accomplishments that were never good enough.

One step forward. Two back. Ninety-nine to go.

Once inside her glittering shell, she would return to looking at Drei but never really seeing him.

How could she not have seen him?

He lay so still around her, he might have been carved from marble.... No, nothing as refined. Stone, she decided. Craggy and rugged and enduring like these mountains.

And she couldn’t stop touching him. That faint vibration she felt inside urged her to greater boldness, to see if a fire could be stoked from a single flame.

She nestled her face in the valley between his neck and shoulder, inhaled the scent that made him him. She liked the whimsical thought and shifted again. Just enough so her breasts lifted from his chest, a slight motion that grazed sensitive tips against wiry chest hairs.

The heat low in her belly flared as Drei’s hands locked hard around her waist. Mirie gasped, a sound that startled the quiet as she was hoisted off his lap as easily as he might have removed a pet.

“Your Royal Highness.” He used her title as her name, his tone a warning that she had crossed a line. He forcibly scooted backward as if she had become an ember that burned him.

Mirie stared at him across the blaze-soaked distance. She found the bright green of his eyes indistinguishable by firelight, found herself pierced by the reproach in his expression. And something else...

“What do you fear from me, Drei?” she asked, surprised.

“What are you doing?” A demand.

“I was...testing.”

He arched a quizzical eyebrow. “Testing what? I’m still breathing, Your Royal Highness.”

His indignation made her bristle. Or maybe it was the title that did. She had a name. He knew it.

Was it so wrong to want to be a woman? For one stolen moment, she wanted to think of nothing but what it felt like to feel again, to respond and to care. She already responded as a woman because she felt hurt by his withdrawal.

He dropped back into a crouch, a defensive stance, as though she were Eve with the apple. The muscles in his thighs bulged with the motion, drew her attention to the way he moved, so easy with his nakedness.

How had she never truly seen this man in all these years they had been together? She must have been blind.

The firelight cast his body in gold, his long legs, his narrow hips, the vee of his waist that spread into that chest that had provided shelter against the storm raging outside.

The storm raging inside.

Reason told her to retreat, but Mirie couldn’t stop. Not when retreat meant the spark inside would smolder to ash.

“You protect me.” Her voice wavered. She could be so weak.

Placing her hands over her heart, she stood her ground. “Protect me from this loneliness. Right here. Pretend I am only a woman who wants a man.”

“You’re a princess.”

His retort stung. Always the voice of reason.

“I’m a woman, too.”

And she could not lose this feeling that made her feel alive. To be like Bunică. Her family. Mirie did not want to live her life as one ready for the grave.

She feared that fate worse than men with guns.

“Please.” The word broke, not a demand but a plea.

Drei’s expression was unreadable, but his gaze pierced her as if he’d plunged a hand through her heart. She resisted the urge to shrink before him with her selfish demands.

Then she noticed his hands. They were balled into fists at his sides, tense-knuckled and desperate almost. Not because he didn’t want her, she realized.

Because he did?

There was much about this man she didn’t understand, had never taken the time to learn. But Mirie recognized the chiseled angle of his jaw, as though he ground his teeth to meal inside his mouth.

And foolish, foolish woman she was, so naive and self-absorbed, she had ignored the most obvious sign of all. Running her gaze down the muscled terrain of his body... Her breath hitched at the sight of him in his arousal, concealed by his stance, but such proof of his want.

He was a professional, and an honorable man.

But she had no such honor and simply couldn’t bring herself to stop.

Swaying toward him, Mirie felt her motion as though her body had turned to liquid, warmed by the flames. Not of the crackling fire, but the fire Drei had created inside her. Reaching out, she ran her fingers lightly along his thighs, savored the shock that visibly rocked him on contact.

“Drei, please.” Another plea.

His growl ripped through the quiet, a sound of the purest frustration. But Mirie knew, even as his arms shot around her with whipcord strength, that he couldn’t deny her.

He sprang up with the physicality of a man well-trained, and pulled her to her knees along with him. One swift move brought her into hard contact with his body.

She gasped as he locked her against him, arm a vise around her waist that anchored her close until suddenly all she could see was him. His broad shoulders blocked out the firelight. She could feel every ridge and hollow of his chest, the hot arousal that branded her belly, the steely thighs that braced her upright.

She had no chance to react before he speared a hand into her hair, coaxed her head back to tilt her face to his.

And his mouth came down on hers.

Time stopped. Her heartbeat simply paused. Somewhere inside she recognized how she had provoked him, but his kiss tasted of a need that shocked her, a hungry man.

Mirie couldn’t think past her surprise, not when his need became hers, catching her in an upsurge the way the fire sucked in the surrounding air.

She sighed against his mouth, her lips yielding eagerly. Their tongues tangled in discovery. And she was so grateful she had pushed, so glad he had given in.

Winding her arms around him, she ran her hands down his back, thrilled when he trembled beneath her touch. He was no longer Drei, but a strong, handsome man making her body hum with his kisses. Yet he was still Drei, a man who had always been there, a man she could trust with her needs.

Mirie felt comfortable with him, able to abandon herself to this haze of sensation that stole her breath, made her bold and eager and heedless of the consequences.

But not so her protector.

“You better be sure about this, Your Royal Highness,” he whispered against her lips. “There’s no turning back.”

She could practically feel the battle raging inside him, the tension in the body against her, even though his words might let her go.

Gently nibbling his upper lip, she teased his skin into her mouth, determined to win him to her side. He should forget who he was because she was no longer Mirie. She would shed the limitations of rank and duty to become a nameless woman who savored the moment with no inhibitions. A woman able to forget everything that normally dictated her life.

For one stolen moment, she would be only a woman.

“I have never been more sure,” she admitted. “Let this moment be ours, Drei. Just this one.”

He didn’t believe her. She could see doubt all over his face. Maybe she was a fool to believe her own words. Or naive.

But Mirie didn’t care because she felt.

Drei coaxed her head back to expose her throat. Deliberation carved stern lines in his handsome face as he considered her as if she were some tempting morsel he wasn’t sure whether to resist or devour.

Her chest rose and fell on a sharp breath, the anticipation making her body vibrate.

Had she ever felt so alive?

Her answer came when Drei nibbled his way along her jaw, lingered in that valley below her ear with his warm breath and teasing tongue, such an unexpectedly sensitive place.

Never.

His mouth traveled freely, as though he had waited forever for the privilege to explore and was determined to savor every inch of her. Fire filtered down into her very deepest places until an ache throbbed low in her belly, and she gasped when he flipped down her bra with a quick move that sent her breasts tumbling out as a feast for his devouring.

And he devoured with exquisite tenderness. His stubbled cheeks teased her skin. His tongue tested a peak that tightened eagerly. His strong hands lifted her breast so he could draw the tip into his mouth with a soft pull.

Mirie gasped and her whole being trembled with a prayer that he would not stop.

He didn’t.

Acquainting himself with her responses, Drei coaxed the fire inside her to feverish life. Until her body grew molten and she clung to him.

But he held her securely, raking his firm grip down her ribs as he lifted his head to catch her mouth with his again. Her excitement spiraled in response to his need when he ground his hips greedily against her, a dare to frighten her off, maybe, or an invitation to accept the challenge.

Mirie touched him with an urgency she had never known before. She dragged her palms down his back, over the tight curve of his bottom as she pressed him close, determined to explore every inch. She rode the length of his arousal and caught the sound of his excitement with her kiss, trembled against him as his hard body shuddered with need.

She wanted to make him feel the way she did, but he was the one in control. She found herself suddenly on her back, tangled in the weather cloak, as he maneuvered between her legs. Not to make love to her with his body, but to pleasure her with his mouth.

And she could only glance up at this familiar stranger and tremble in anticipation, for he touched her in ways so intimate that she grew dazed with desire, and could only reach out and hang on to his strong shoulders, as her thighs trembled and silken moans slid from her lips unbidden.

And only when her body pulsed and she was wet with her own pleasure did Drei cease his tender assault. He pulled her into his arms and forced her legs wide so she could straddle his lap, leaving her mouth poised perfectly to kiss him.

She did.

Mirie tasted her pleasure on his mouth, the strength of his hunger, the need that stunned her with its intensity. How could he be invisible to her one moment, then in an instant, the world revolved around their kiss, as if she would die right there if he stopped touching her?

When Drei joined her with an upward thrust, his growl was a desperate sound that reverberated through the cave, through her, and Mirie understood that while she had made love before, she had never made love with a man.

And there was a vast world of difference.

* * *

THE FIRE HAD burned dangerously low. Drew needed to get up and add more kindling before he wound up back outside stripping sappy branches. A part of him was relieved for the task. He was tempted to sit here forever, his back propped against a frigid stone wall, his butt numb from the frigid stone floor.

Life should stop right now, so he could die a happy man. He didn’t know what had just happened between him and Mirie, but he sure as hell knew it wasn’t smart.

He had a mission, and so did she. Two different missions to two different countries. Hers by blood; his by oath. This, whatever this was, would only complicate their work.

He could control his imagination. He could distract himself with other women. He could even feel noble about sacrificing his life to protect Mirie’s journey from childhood to royal duty. He had always told himself the fantasy would be better than the reality anyway, that he’d had the better part.

But he no longer had that excuse.

Reality was far beyond the fantasy. There had been no way he could have known how he would feel inside her, with her body melting around him, pulsing with pleasure as if her mouth had been formed to fit only his. As if her every curve had been formed to align just perfectly with him. As if her sighs had been tuned to his exact frequency.

As if inside her was the only place he should be.

He had never known that feeling before. Discontent had sent him fleeing family and home when he had been younger. It was what had kept him chasing thrills with Special Forces, what had allowed him to dismiss his identity for a mission as a sleeper agent.

He had never known right.

Until Mirie.

“Drei?” Even her voice was an assault on his senses, a sultry tone that caressed the quiet like mist.

“Mmm-hmm.” He wasn’t up to coherent responses yet, not with his blood still slugging through his veins like lava and his thoughts racing with what he had known all along.

Giving in to this was not smart.

“How do you do it?” She let her head roll back against his shoulder, so she could peer up.

“Define it.” Good. He’d shoved two words out. Of course his voice sounded like gravel over broken glass.

“Live in the shadows. Live a half life.” She exhaled another breathy sigh that had such power over him. “I don’t know what else to call it.”

He was so not up to philosophical questions right now. Not when the simple feel of her hair trailing down his arm felt monumental, as if their sex had only scratched the surface of years of lusting and when he recovered he was going to be a whole lot hungrier than before.

He dragged his gaze to hers, buying himself time because he couldn’t wrap his brain around anything beyond the arms she draped tightly around him, as though he were her anchor.

“Half life?” Two more words and an inflection that made them a question. He was making progress.

Her lips tucked at the corners as she considered him, looking thoughtful. He could see the sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks even in this light. Those freckles were the bane of her existence. Once she hadn’t noticed them, but with the constant media attention now, she spent time in front of the mirror trying to conceal, blend or beat those freckles into submission.

She would be mortified he’d noticed.

He thought freckles suited her and hoped she never found a way to cover them. They were a reminder of the free-spirited girl she had once been, a girl who had danced through the meadows and splashed through streams.

The girl who had grown up to be a woman bold enough to make love to him.

“You guard me,” she finally said. “You live with me. Your schedule is my schedule. You don’t leave my life to go live your own. I don’t know anything about your upbringing or your family, and I can count on one hand how many times you have taken a vacation since Oskar died. That leaves you with a day off here and there and then only when I’m entertaining dignitaries in my glittering shell, with the royal guard and media smothering me.”

“Glittering shell?” He knew what she meant.

“The compound.” She waved a dismissive hand. “That doesn’t seem like much of a life to me. So, a half life.”

He nodded, considering.

She waited, and shivered.

“I need to deal with the fire.” He found the words to seize an opportunity for escape. Only the knowledge that they might freeze to death spurred him to get up off his ass and back to reality. There was another part of him that felt he would be okay with freezing to death as long as Mirie was in his arms.

But she complied and untangled her naked self and scooted back against the wall. Her skin gleamed pale in the failing firelight, and his crotch danced a little jig at the sight she made with her long legs stretched out before her, her hair threading around the swell of her lovely breasts.

Christ, he was in trouble here.

That thought was unavoidable as he used the last of the kindling. He’d be heading outside again soon. He should plunge himself into the snow while he was out there. He didn’t think even the blizzard would cool him off.

He coaxed more of the sappy kindling to life with the glowing embers, carefully stoking the fire back while he considered Mirie’s words.

And the stab of pride at her opinion of him.

He had a life even though she couldn’t see it. He served his country and carried out his mission objective. He had only sacrificed the normal life he had never been much interested in anyway, for a much more noble cause.

Like Mirie herself, although she had been born to her cause. But she didn’t see his life from his perspective, and she didn’t sound as if she was all that content with her own.

Loneliness was eating away at her bit by bit.

He wasn’t surprised.

“I guess from your perspective it doesn’t seem like much of a life.” Distance helped him get a grip.

“Sounds a lot like my life.” She finally pulled on the cloak to cover her exquisite nakedness.

He snorted while tucking a branch deep into the embers.

“What?” she asked.

“I thought the same thing.”

He hadn’t meant the admission as an invitation, but she took it as one. Suddenly, she was covering the small distance between them, kneeling before the growing fire, stretching out her hands to embrace the heat.

Drew only heaved an inward sigh. He wanted her to warm herself, wished her nearness didn’t test him and her discontent didn’t add to his defenselessness against her.

She saw only how he trailed after her around the clock, not living a life that would fit anyone’s description of normal. Because she didn’t live a normal life, either. She had once run through these mountains, flirting with the boys, giving her virginity to the one she had allowed to catch her.

Now she gave herself to the only man within her grasp to stave off the grief of her losses. What a waste.

“You’ve been working on a miracle,” he said, hoping to lend her perspective. And some encouragement, which she didn’t hear enough as far as Drew was concerned. “Once the government stabilizes and the economy shows some improvement, you’ll get back to a normal life again. Then, so will I.”

She faced him with a scowl. “By the time this political situation stabilizes, I’ll be ready for the grave like Bunică.”

“Your Royal Highness,” he chided.

To his surprise, she scooted toward him, coming up full against him and wrapping her arms around his waist. “Drei, call me by my name.”

Her breasts pressed against his back, and for a man who’d just spent himself in a big way, Drew’s body was on red alert again before he had a chance to suck in a breath.

He was in such trouble here. The very thought of her name on his lips collided with the memory of his body inside her, and he found himself clutching the stick hard enough that the damned thing broke. Wet wood. Go figure.

But it was the anchor he needed to resist turning around and grabbing her, pulling her against him and going for round two. There’d been no contact with the general. It was just the two of them, stranded here, alone.

She was upset. He got that. He also understood her isolation. He saw her life up close. He lived it. His own wasn’t much better except for the occasional furloughs. But unless they got back to normal between them, this “interlude” could only cost them. And cost big.

They were protector and the princess he’d been hired to protect. Period.

“Princess Mirela of Ninsele.”

“Drei.” She strung out his name on a long melodic syllable that reminded him of her earlier song.

Had it only been hours since the funeral?

The world had shifted since then.

“Mirela Selskala,” he tried again, earning only a huff of exasperation.

Then she surprised him by sinking backward, pulling him off balance and dragging him with her.

Suddenly they were tangled together in the weather cloak, too close to the fire, and Drew was forced to roll over and take her with him. She seized the advantage and twisted in his arms until she straddled him.

And Drew was already so far gone he didn’t resist. Couldn’t. Not when she lifted her mouth to his again in an unspoken demand and laughed that silken laughter that he never heard anymore, hadn’t realized how much he missed.

The last thing in the world Drew should do right now was give in. The absolute last. He’d do better to put the pistol in his mouth and pull the trigger.

But when she rocked her hips, swaying until she had his reawakening erection trapped between her smooth thighs, he could only ride out the motion and try to hide that she was about to shake loose any possibility of resistance.

But she already knew because she sighed softly and swayed erotically, opening herself to him, and he finally gave in. Arching his hips, he found her softness, and thrust home with her name spilling from his lips.

“Mirie.”