Читать книгу The Danforths: Marc, Tanya & Abe: The Laws of Passion / Terms of Surrender / Shocking the Senator - Leanne Banks - Страница 10

Four

“Marcus?” The look on Dana’s face had to be pure amazement. Not so much because he’d physically assaulted her—they both knew she could’ve defended herself against him with little trouble.

No, she looked—self conscious. A bit frightened by her own lack of resistance, perhaps. Or maybe she was simply amazed because she’d let things get out of control. He wondered if she was feeling concerned by his actions…or if she felt as stunned by her own reactions as he did.

Lost in the sensual moment, Marc forgot everything as his blood heated and pulsed. He forgot about being arrested. He forgot she was an FBI agent. He surprisingly managed to even forget that he’d sworn off women forever.

“Dana.” Desire roughened his voice as they stared into each other’s eyes. He tried again. “Please….”

Never before had she heard anyone say her name in quite that same raspy, pleading kind of voice. The sound sent licks of fire spiraling down her spine. She shivered in the flames, without really understanding why.

She would give anything to hear him say her name that way once more. But instinct made her afraid to ask for what she wanted. Afraid to break the spell. She wasn’t frightened of him—only of herself.

A soft uncertain noise sounded in her ears, and she realized it came from her own throat. It surprised her, the same way she’d been amazed when she placed a hand against his chest to balance herself and found his heart beating as rapidly as her own.

Finding her throat suddenly dry, she swallowed hard. His eyes dropped to her mouth, and she knew in an instant what would come next. He lowered his head the few inches separating their mouths and grazed his lips against hers.

Soft. The thought registered with surprise. The texture of his mouth felt like velvet—so soft, so exotic.

Dana couldn’t exactly remember when she’d last kissed a man—if she ever really had. But she did know for sure that it could not have been like this.

For all its gentleness, there was a deep demand in Marcus’s kiss. Hunger and passion were buried under the guise of a tender touch. She was certain about his desires because the drugging insistence of them was pulling the same responses from her own body.

A breathless whimper rumbled deep and escaped her lips, amazing her yet again with such wanton responses to him. As if with a life of their own, her fingers began to knead the cotton of his shirt. The navy-blue pullover bunched as she flexed her hand.

She wished she had the nerve and the time to rip his shirt all the way off so she could run her fingers through the hair on his chest. The vision of him shirtless was as clear to her now as it had been a few hours ago when he’d first stepped from his shower. And she felt every bit as desperate to touch that hair-covered flesh—to slide her palms over his work-hardened muscles…as she had then.

Marcus eased one of his hands away, slowly letting her slide down the full length of him, without ever breaking the kiss. She felt his stiffened flesh pressing against her belly, right through both their slacks.

When he tenderly placed his hands on her face and kneaded her jaw, she opened for him. His tongue caressed her lips, seducing its way past them to find her teeth. She opened wider yet and gingerly touched his tongue with hers.

Intoxicating and sweet. Like nothing she’d ever experienced before.

Marcus anchored a fist in her hair and slid the other hand down her back. Endlessly, his palm inched a heated path down her spine, finally coming to rest on her hip.

Deepening the kiss, he coaxed her tongue to wind around his. Then he drove deeper still, blasting her with a wicked heat. He dragged her hips tighter against his groin.

She melted against him. There was no resistance anywhere in her body. In her whole life she’d never felt so limp and needy. Wanting this, wanting him, she moaned into his mouth.

Marc heard the sound like a roar of white water across slickened rocks. She tasted sizzling hot, icy sweet. When he felt her hands tentatively touch his shoulders, it was as if the rest of the world simply ceased to exist.

Passion and power. He’d found all of that and more in her kiss. Feasting on her softness, he filled his hands with her rounded jeans-covered bottom.

He broke the kiss, needing to taste the rest of her. Licking his way up her jawline, he found her sensitive earlobe and suckled. What fascinating sensations she had stirred in him. He kissed his way down her neck, restlessly moving his hands up and down her sides, eager to fill his palms with her breasts.

Finally covering one breast with his hand, he lasered his mouth back across hers, letting the beast inside the man go free. He wanted to taste every inch. He wanted to go on, licking and lathing, until he could bury himself deep inside her welcoming body.

Somewhere, back in a still-rational part of his brain, he knew this was not how a man kissed a woman for the first time. But this was the kind of kiss—the kind of woman—that he’d dreamed about for all of his life.

Dana was so much more than anyone before. So strong, yet so tender. Passionate, vibrant and real. She was everything that Alicia had never been.

That shocking thought brought him up abruptly. The pain of remembering Alicia’s betrayal threw ice water against his heated skin and numbed his desire. What in God’s name was he doing?

Clutching lamely at Dana’s shoulders, he levered himself away from her and tried to catch his breath. She reached out to him and opened her drugged eyes, silently pleading with him to come back.

Heaven knew that’s what he wanted, too. He wanted to go on kissing her…and much more.

He shut his eyes and cursed through gritted teeth.

Dana found herself blinking furiously, but at last she cleared the confusion from her brain. “Where the hell did that come from, Danforth?” she demanded with a shaky voice. “What were you thinking?”

Marc opened his eyes wide, but took a step back. “I’m not sure. But whatever it was, you were thinking it too.” The look in his eyes held the same accusations and disorientation that she was feeling.

Many inadequate images ripped through her, but she wasn’t positive she could articulate any of them. She’d definitely wanted him to keep on kissing her. But the rational side of her knew it had been right for them to stop.

From deep in her gut, she tried putting up an invisible shield around her emotions. But her fingers wouldn’t obey her brain and automatically went to her swollen lips, tentatively touching the still-pulsing flesh there.

It had never occurred to her that she might ever kiss a man like that. And for it to be this man—the man she was supposed to be using to get to the head of a dangerous cartel….

Well, she supposed there was just no explaining it. Not to him and certainly not to herself.

Clearing her throat, she pressed her lips together and tried to think. “Let’s get inside the house before we’re spotted,” she finally managed. “Do the gates on your fence actually close and lock?”

Marc had been standing there, studying her in the glare of the automatic yard lights. “Yeah,” he answered with a drawl. “At least they did a year ago when I first moved in. The chain-link is mostly just for Laddie, not for protection. But the dog has never needed fencing. Outside the house, he knows where he belongs.”

“Go lock the gates then,” she ordered. “I’ll get a couple of things out of my trunk and meet you inside after I disarm the security system.”

Her words seemed to shake him from his sensual stupor. “Make sure Laddie is inside the fence before I lock the gates,” he told her before spinning around and heading off into the crisp autumn night.

After he’d gone, Dana finally took a huge deep, cleansing breath. She stood five foot eight and sometimes towered over men, but Marc’s six-two had made him seem like a giant standing next to her.

Shaking the cobwebs from her head, she dug the duffel out of the trunk. Ridiculous. Men simply did not make her nervous. Never had. And she was determined that Marc Danforth would not be the first.

In all of her life…first in high school while walking the dangerous streets of her neighborhood, then in college taking law enforcement courses with tough ex-marines, and finally at Quantico during FBI training…she’d turned men into friends or enemies. But every single one of them had kept a respectful distance.

She’d never allowed any of them to push her, and she’d worked hard at being one of the guys. It had been important to her to maintain that professional distance.

Always managing to keep her sexual naiveté quite well-hidden, in high school and college it had been a matter of self-preservation. No dates meant no sex. No sex meant no chance of ending up with a scoundrel like her father.

Eventually, though, she’d stopped thinking about men as anything but friends, co-workers or suspects. And at this point in her life, it would be just too embarrassing to admit that she was inexperienced at something so basic as relations between men and women.

Dana threw the duffel over her shoulder and went to the back porch, calling Laddie as she went. Finding him standing on the step, eagerly awaiting her arrival, he made her smile.

“Good boy.” Dana reached down and roughed-up the fur around his neck.

While disarming the alarm on the back of the house, she couldn’t help wondering why she’d let Marc kiss her. Not only let him, but encouraged him.

When she opened the door, Laddie bolted around her and headed through the lighted kitchen into the darkness beyond. Nothing in the house seemed to be out of place. But because she trusted the dog to know when something was amiss, she instinctively touched the weapon holstered under her jacket.

Crossing through the kitchen and into the foyer, she flipped on the overhead lights. When she heard Marc unlocking and opening the front door, she headed toward the sound and motioned for him to come in quietly.

When he stepped into the glow of the house lights, the sight of him took the breath right out of her lungs. The man was one gorgeous hunk.

He was also extremely rich and quite the ladies’man, if grocery-store tabloids could be believed. The two of them were definitely not from the same universe, let alone in the same league.

Their kiss had been an aberration. A one-shot miscalculation. Nothing more. She vowed to keep her mind on business, and her eye on the goal of taking down Escalante.

“Stay where you are a minute,” she whispered in her most professional tone of voice. “I want to check out the rest of the house.”

He stopped, but his eyes sparkled with amusement. “Yes, ma’am. There’s nothing wrong, is there?”

“Just checking. When I opened the door, the dog took off like he was chasing something.” She flattened herself against the wall, drew her weapon and stealthily headed toward the bedrooms.

“Oh, no.” Marc suddenly brushed past her down the hall and dashed through the first doorway on the right.

So much for him doing whatever she told him to do.

From her cursory inspection of this afternoon, she knew he’d turned into the guest room. “Marc, wait. Let me check…”

“No!” At his loud exclamation, Dana tensed.

Just as she reached the doorway, she heard him issuing commands. “Down, Laddie! Bad dog!”

“Do you need assistance?” It was pretty clear that Marc was okay. She couldn’t vouch for the dog.

“We’re fine,” he called out.

Relaxing her shoulders, she moved further down the hallway, checking the other rooms. Everything was in place.

By the time she’d reholstered her Glock and returned to the guest bedroom, the dog was sitting on the floor at his master’s feet with a terribly guilty expression in his sad eyes. “Did Laddie do something wrong?”

Marc shook his head. “He has a thing for this bed. No matter what I do to discipline him, he thinks the bed belongs to him. That’s one of the reasons I try to keep him outside in his doghouse at night.”

“Well, at least he doesn’t sleep in your bed,” she teased. “Wouldn’t that be worse?”

Marc raised his chin and shot her a smoldering look. “If you don’t keep the door to this room closed tonight, you’ll find out. In fact, you may decide you’d rather bunk with me.”

God, what had possessed her to talk about his bed? Judging from their one mind-blowing kiss, plenty of women had shared his bed. He was too good a kisser not to practice—a lot. She decided belatedly that she had to be the professional here and watch what she said.

But this whole relationship thing was beyond her experience. As an undercover agent, she had always carefully phrased every word—every gesture. She simply never sent unintended signals to the men she dealt with. Right from the beginning with Marc, however, she’d let too much of her true self out for him to see.

Well, no more.

So what if her heart pounded in her throat every time he looked at her? She was good at undercover work, wasn’t she? From now on, she would just play the part of someone who didn’t care that he had the power to tear her heart out with one touch of his lips.

“Let the dog stay inside,” she told him. “We can use all the extra protection we can get.

“And you go on to bed now,” she added casually. “I’ll set the alarms. I’m a light sleeper, so you don’t have to worry about anything. I’ll handle it. Get a good night’s sleep. You’re going to need it.”

He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. “Right, sugar. I’m all for getting a good night’s sleep.”

Marc slowly walked toward her as she stood frozen in the doorway. The closer he came, the more she felt like running. But she stood her ground. In the next instant, however, he destroyed all her good intentions about remaining noncommittal.

Reaching over, he ran a finger lightly down the side of her cheek and then rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip. “But if you find Laddie too much of a handful…I’ll keep a warm place for you in my bed.” He winked and grinned with a sexy twist of his lips. “Just in case.”

Dropping his hand, he sauntered toward the master bedroom. But before rounding the corner, he turned his head to see if she was still glued in place watching his cute backside. Which she was.

He grinned one last time and disappeared into his room.

She was in big trouble.

Marc spent a couple of hours tossing and turning in his bed. He’d lost his edge with Dana. And after promising himself he wouldn’t let another woman get under his skin.

But there was something about the woman that stirred his soul. Sighing, he tried pounding the pillow into submission for the eighteenth time and finally gave up.

After spending a sleepless night in jail, he’d been sure he would sleep like a rock in his own bed. But that was before a gorgeous woman with big, brown doe eyes moved in down the hall.

His traitorous body was not going to let him get any rest tonight. He rose and tugged on his robe, deciding to go to the kitchen. Maybe something warm in his stomach would help him relax.

When he opened the bedroom door, he noticed that it felt rather chilly in the rest of the house. Perhaps he should turn on the electric heat—or maybe build a fire in the fireplace.

October in Georgia could be deceiving. Days were usually hot and sticky. Leftover summer rains splashed down in puddles one minute that were sun-dried the next. But the nights could turn quite chilly. Last year they’d had frost on Halloween.

Creeping down the darkened hall, he passed by the partially opened door to the guest room. He guessed Dana had left the door open so she could hear what happened in the house during the night. A smirk lifted the corners of his mouth as he thought about her spending the night with Laddie sprawled out over that barely-room-for-one bed. She should’ve taken him up on the offer of spending the night in his bed. There would’ve been a lot more room.

It didn’t take more than a moment for that image to register on his body. With her luscious body in the same bed, he was positive neither one of them would’ve gotten any sleep. Shoving those images into the recesses of his mind, he swallowed hard and tried not to think at all.

Marc went straight to the living room fireplace without turning on any lights. He opened the glass doors to the hearth and picked up an armload of precut pine logs from the wood box. After placing the logs on the grate, he set fire to the twigs he’d put under them.

He sat back on his heels in front of the hearth and used a poker to stir the kindling to flames. Concentrating on bringing the fire to life, he began to think about how he wanted to bring Dana’s body to life. He would use just the right kindling touches and just the right firestormed kisses. With only one kiss, she’d proven that she was capable of becoming everyman’s sexual fantasy. She’d been vibrant and erotic under his touch.

Lost in the memory of their sensual haze, Marc was jolted when the table lamp behind him switched on with a blinding glare. He nearly fell on his butt with surprise.

Instead, he caught himself and swiveled around to see what was going on. “What the hell…?”

Dana stood there, holding her gun loosely at her side. With the other hand, she kept a tight grip on Laddie’s collar. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Marc’s heart was racing as the adrenaline of surprise churned through his veins. “No.” He coughed and found his voice. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I was cold and wanted to light the fire.”

Laddie lowered his head and made a distinctly unfriendly sound deep in his throat.

Dana let go of Laddie’s collar and whispered something in his ear. The dog sat back on his haunches and his tongue lolled out of the corner of his mouth. He’d obviously found a new friend in the beautiful FBI agent. The big traitor.

“You didn’t frighten me,” Dana said quietly. “But Laddie insisted that we make sure you were all right.”

She briefly checked the gun and placed it on the table beside her. “Is there anything I can do to help you sleep?”

Oh man. Was that a leading question.

He turned back to the fire before he slipped and told her exactly what he had in mind. “No, thanks. I was planning on making myself some hot coffee just as soon as I got the fire going.” But at the moment, a good stiff shot of bourbon sounded like a better deal.

“Do you have any chocolate mix? I always think hot milk is better than coffee in the middle of the night.”

“There’s probably some in the pantry.”

“Good. I’ll go find it.” She left the room and that bewitched devil dog, Laddie, trotted along at her heel.

A couple of lousy hours with Dana and man’s best friend had turned on the hand that fed him. It wasn’t the first time Marc had lost a best friend to a woman. But it still hurt. You’d think he would’ve learned a lesson the first time.

The fire snapped as the heat blazed against his hands and face. He replaced the poker and closed the glass doors, all the while thinking of how Dana had looked, standing there with his former best friend beside her.

She’d had on a gray sweatshirt that was a couple of sizes too big. The V-neck had slipped down one shoulder, revealing the curve of one of her creamy golden breasts. She obviously wore no bra underneath.

His hand flexed with the memory of how her breast had yielded to him earlier. A man could hardly forget so soon how sweet that felt. Or how he wished he’d had the opportunity to place his mouth around the jutting nipple. Or how…

When he looked down, he realized that the thin fabric of his pajamas and robe were revealing with crystal clarity every erotic thought he’d had. Damned biology.

Pulling the robe tighter, he straightened his shoulders and went off to find that bottle of bourbon.

As the first rays of sun changed the farmyard from pitch-dark of night into gray cast of dawn, Dana ran a comb through her shower-wet hair and slipped on her running shoes. At this hour, every muscle in her body yearned for a real run. But there would be no opportunity for that today. She couldn’t leave Marc alone.

For a couple of hours last night, she’d sat at the kitchen table while he’d drunk himself into a sleepy fog. It was a good thing that over the years of being a covert agent she’d learned the art of listening. She’d let him tell her—for the third time—the history of what the cartel had done to his family. Then he told her every detail of how his time in jail had gone. Twice.

He’d been so miserable, feeling sorry for himself and trying not to recognize the sexual tension that they both knew flared between them. She’d been miserable too—not sure of what she wanted. One thing she was sure of; he was the cutest thing she’d ever seen.

She would be willing to bet the farm, though, that he’d be wishing for a total head transplant when he finally woke up this morning. Chuckling to herself, she finished dressing and slipped out of her room to go make the coffee. He was going to need it.

When she entered the kitchen, the smell of coffee brewing made her nerve endings itch. Nothing seemed out of place and she hadn’t heard any kind of disturbance, so she quickly figured out it must’ve been Marc who had made the coffee. But where was he now?

Dana went to the outside door and found the alarm still set. But it could’ve easily been disarmed and reset, and there would be no clues. Checking the fine thread she’d placed across the threshold in case someone did get past the alarm system, she wasn’t surprised to find it broken. Marc had gone outside. And after all her warnings about not going anywhere without her.

It finally hit her that Laddie was missing, as well. She’d ordered the dog to sit in the hall watching the master bedroom door while she’d been taking her shower.

She stepped onto the back porch and scanned the dreary horizon. After spotting Laddie moving noisily amongst the sheep, she relaxed her shoulders. But then she noticed Marc talking to an older man out near the barn, and the tension raced back through her hands and down her spine.

Dana watched as Marc shook the other man’s hand, then turned and came toward her alone. The stranger walked away, heading in the direction of the far pasture out past the barn.

Dressed in jeans and a pecan-colored sweater that matched his eyes, Marc looked relaxed and devastatingly handsome for this hour of the morning. But he scowled at her when he came near. “You shouldn’t be out here, Dana. Let’s go back into the house.”

She grimaced at his words. “You’re a fine one to talk. Aren’t you the one that shouldn’t be outside, contacting strangers without me? I’m trained in defense, not you.”

He grabbed her elbow and swung her around, still moving toward the kitchen door. “The man was my neighbor, William Stevens. I was arranging for him to take care of the animals for a few weeks. But now that he’s seen you, he’ll be wondering what’s really going on. And I’d rather not be the subject of any more speculation if I can help it.”

The stab of irritation hit her right between the tingling waves of pleasure at his touch. “Won’t he simply believe I’m just another one of the many glamour girls you bring home? He wasn’t close enough to get a good look.”

Marc stopped at the bottom of the steps, released her and stood back to study her face. “Are you joking?” He answered his own question without waiting for her reply. “No, I can see you’re not. What would make you say such a thing?”

“I’ve studied the background files on you, Danforth. There’s a stack of newspaper clippings an inch thick, all with you cuddling, kissing or holding hands with various debutantes and models. Why wouldn’t everyone just assume you bring them home?”

Marc checked the alarm system and found that she’d left it disarmed. “Inside.” He spent a moment at the door waiting for her, then he must’ve realized he’d better try again. “We can talk about it if you’ll come into the kitchen now. Please, Dana.”

She swung around and scanned the horizon. “What about the dog?”

“Stevens said he’d take him to his farm for the time being. Laddie likes it over there with other dogs.”

After they’d reentered the house, Marc poured coffee into two mugs and then sat at the table. Dana rearmed the alarm and joined him.

“Look,” he began. “My family is well connected here in Savannah. For them, and because of my position at the firm, I have to attend an occasional charitable or political function. Sometimes I must escort a woman. But believe me, none of it is particularly fun…or personal.”

Sipping her coffee slowly, she waited.

He looked thoughtful for a second then continued. “Except for one of my brothers and a cousin or two, I haven’t brought anyone out here since I moved in.”

Dana raised her eyebrows and pushed out her bottom lip. It wasn’t that she doubted him—exactly. But it seemed hard to imagine.

“You don’t believe me?” He stood and paced to the sink and back. “The truth is, I haven’t had a real date in over a year. Ask anyone in my family. They’ll tell you.”

“I don’t believe you’d lie, Marc.” She finished her coffee and set the mug down on the table. “But it seems odd for a rich, good-looking man who is one of the town’s most eligible bachelors to be celibate. What’s the problem?”

Dana couldn’t quite believe she’d made such a rude and nosy remark. On the other hand, she’d learned on the job that asking a surprise personal question could occasionally elicit a surprise honest answer.

Marc took both mugs to the sink and moved behind her chair. He leaned over to whisper, “Maybe I just need someone like you to inspire me. I’m sure you figured out last night that it’s not a physical problem. There’s no way you didn’t feel the truth of that.”

He came closer and nibbled on her earlobe. “Want to volunteer to be the first to break my abstinence?”

His voice gave her the shivers and his kiss sent heated bolts of sensual wanting through her body. She remembered quite well how hard his body had become when she’d plastered herself against it. The memory was burning gaps in her mind and causing other searing physical needs she hardly recognized. How could he turn a simple interrogation into something so sexy?

She stood and backed away, determined to wrest the upper hand back from him. “We’re going to be working closely together for the next few weeks. I think we’d better not mention last night again. It was a mistake. It won’t happen again.”

He smiled at her, but didn’t say a word. The silence sparked the air around them.

Dana cleared her throat and found her voice again. “You’re just trying to make me forget the question.” She took another step back. “So let me repeat, why haven’t you been with a woman in over a year?”

Marc pressed his lips together. “I’m going to take a shower. We have a lot of plans to make today.”

“Are you too chicken to answer me?”

“It’s nothing, Dana. No big deal. I’ll tell you all about it sometime when things get dull.” He tugged his sweater over his head and headed for the master bedroom.

Left in the silence, she wondered if this assignment would end up being her worst nightmare. Not due to the cartel. Or because of the cocky, rich man’s son she was forced to work with. But because of the way her body was bound and determined to betray her whenever Marc came near.