Body of Evidence (Evidence Series) (20 page)

He stiffened against her, and she felt the heavy beat of his heart as another fingertip clinging to control slipped. Still gripping his shirt, she tugged him down the covered walkway. “You’re wasting time. I have another appointment in an hour.”

She leaned against the door and stroked his chest as he fumbled with the key. Would he fall? Or would he regain his grasp once they were alone?

The door swung open, and she tumbled inside. Gripping his bicep for balance, she pulled him in after her. He kicked the door shut behind him and caught her in his arms. A rush of victory suffused her when his mouth covered hers.

His tongue thrust between her lips, and she took him in, already drowning in the sensation of his potent kiss. She’d fantasized about this, but the reality of his surrender was a bigger rush than she’d imagined. He filled her senses with his touch, the musky smell of his skin, and the taste of his mouth as he devoured her.

“Oh God,” he muttered against her lips. “I can’t take this anymore.”

She slid her tongue along his, drinking him in. “I need you. Now.” She fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, finally freeing the top two.

He released her and pulled the shirt over his head. Ah, those glorious pecs. She ran her hands over his muscles, only breaking contact when he removed her top. His lips traced the edge of her bra, and his hands cradled her breasts.

He nibbled his way upward, nuzzling her neck as his hands dropped to pin her hips to the wall. Once again his mouth covered hers in a searing hot and thoroughly mind-blowing kiss.

When Curt Dominick let his carnal side out, the man was hot enough to melt stone.

His left hand slid upward again, capturing her breast. “You have a spectacular body,” he murmured against her lips. “Keeping my hands off you. Yesterday. On the beach…” Kisses punctuated each word. “Was hell.”

She kissed him, sliding her tongue along his, taking him deep into her mouth. She wanted nothing more than to do the same thing with the impressive erection currently pressing against her center and pinning her to the motel wall. She wanted to taste all of him, to look into his eyes as he surrendered his control utterly and completely, and gave in to the pleasure she could give him and came in her mouth.

Her hands trailed down his chest and found his fly. She popped the top button, then touched the zipper. His hands closed over hers, stopping her.

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to hers. His breathing was ragged. “We can’t do this—”

No.
A fingertip had gained purchase. “Don’t you dare back out on me now, Curt.”

“I want you. I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you right now.”

“No problem, because you can
have
me.”

“We can’t.
I
can’t.”

“Please, Curt. I
need
this.”

His mouth lit on her cheek, her brow, her neck. “So do I, sweetheart. But if I have sex with you, then put you on the stand, I’ll be disbarred.”

“Then don’t put me on the stand.”

The lips against her throat paused for a heartbeat; then he reared back. “Fuck. You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” His eyes narrowed. “What’s your goal here, Ms. Garrett? Are you doing this to help your goddamned uncle?”

Her wildly thumping heart split open. How could he think she’d be so mercenary?

Cold, hard eyes pierced her with a glare. “Are you trying to get out of testifying?”

She swung out to slap him, but he caught her wrist before impact. He grabbed her other arm and pinned her to the wall with both hands up. “Or do you want me disbarred?”

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY

J
ESUS.
H
E WAS
too stupid to live. How could he have kissed her? How could he have forgotten everything that mattered to him?

Her eyes burned with anger as she glared at him, trapped between his body and the wall, her hands pinned beside her face with her fingers curled into eye-gouging claws. Her magnificent breasts heaved as she struggled against him. She might be strong and fit, but he was twice her weight with twice the muscle.

“You are such an ass. For a Harvard-trained lawyer, you really are stupid.”

“I agree.”

She stopped struggling, but he didn’t relax his grip. Her knee came up, but he blocked her with his own. He thrust his knees between her legs, preventing her from trying again.

She wriggled against the intrusion, her crotch nestled on his thigh, and let out a small, guttural sigh. His body responded to her arousal just as quickly. What the fuck? They were both spitting mad and hot for each other at the same time. “I hate to break it to you, darling, but I’m not into rough sex.”

Again she glared at him. “Neither am I. But I’m into
you
, dumbass.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“No kidding.”

Small and fine-boned, she’d been held prisoner in a dark cell for two months and had at times been blindfolded and handcuffed—and he was manhandling her in the worst way, making him question every virtue he thought he had. “If I let you go, are you going to scratch me or kick me in the balls?”

“I won’t scratch you.”

He smiled. Damn, only she could make him smile in this situation. He pressed his thigh against her center and she gasped. “Dammit, Curt. It’s obvious I’m turned on. Allow me some dignity and let me go.” She was a proud woman. That had been apparent from the moment they met, and now he was bringing her low in a despicable manner. The starch left her spine. “Please.”

He dropped her hands, lowered her feet to the floor, and stepped back, wary of quick movements on her part.

She stayed against the wall and stared at him, the fight in her gone. A tear rolled down her cheek, but it lacked the quality of courtroom hysterics and cut straight to his heart.

“Why did it have to be you?” She shook her head in disbelief. “Clinton, Richardson, even Jesse Jackson—I’d have been grateful, but I wouldn’t have fallen for them. No, I get
you
as my rescuer. Young, handsome, powerful, and utterly heroic. You are a potent combination, and in my fractured state I didn’t stand a chance. Not even the fact that you’re trying my uncle could get in the way of my foolish fascination.

“No, Curt. I don’t want to make love with you because it will gain me a damn thing. In fact, I’m pretty sure the only thing you can offer me is pain. But I want you because I’m stupid and vulnerable and weak and lonely, and a thousand other things, all unflattering and embarrassing.” She pushed off the wall and headed to the bathroom. “I’m going to take a shower. When I come out, we’re going to pretend I didn’t make a big fool of myself—”

“You didn’t—”

She cut him off with a swift arm motion. “And you didn’t make an even bigger ass of yourself. We’ll pretend this didn’t happen.”

She was right. He was a complete ass. As far as he knew, the last guy she’d been with was Evan, a man who’d been paid to date her, had assaulted her after their breakup, and now was probably trying to kill them both. He itched to pull her back into his arms, to make it up to her with his mouth and hands. To erase all the harsh memories by making love to her. But he couldn’t. That path led to disbarment and destruction.

“We’ll pretend we didn’t get out of control, and that you didn’t insult the hell out of me.”

She was right. They had to pretend nothing happened. “Mara—”

“And I
will
tell you about the smallpox bomb.”

Fuck. What was wrong with him? How could he have kissed her, started to undress her, when she still hadn’t explained the smallpox bomb?

S
HE TOOK A
long hot shower, washing Curt’s touch from her skin. A half hour later, she emerged from the bathroom, at last composed enough to face him. Curt sat on the bed with the prepaid phone to his ear. He took one look at her, said a quick good-bye, and dropped the phone.

Her heart squeezed, as it always did at the sight of him. Disheveled again with half a day’s growth of beard, he was so appealing, so magnificent, she probably could have come while they kissed if he’d applied only the slightest bit more friction.

She had forgotten her number one rule: never trust a man with ambition.

For Evan, she’d been a ladder, a way back into his father’s good graces after a botched military career, with the levels of their courtship providing the rungs. But Evan was merely the last and most successful in a line of men who’d wanted to use her to gain access to her uncle. Then there was her uncle, who’d used her job with JPAC, visiting her for photo ops that softened his image and encouraged the military vote. He’d used her, and she’d spent years looking the other way.

She should have guessed Curt was just another man with ambition who wanted to use her. “What if I refuse to testify?”

His face revealed no emotion. “Then you’ll go to jail.”

“You wouldn’t do that to me. Not after what I’ve been through.”

“I don’t bluff, Mara. There’s no need when I hold all the cards.”

“You really are ruthless. All you care about is your case.”

He didn’t flinch. “It’s about time you figured that out. Now, tell me about the smallpox bomb.”

M
ARA PACED THE
dingy room, and it took all of Curt’s effort to keep his brain on her words and off the shape of her ass or the bounce of her breasts beneath the thin T-shirt. Over the years, he’d taken pride in the fact he wasn’t ruled by his dick like so many he knew. Even many of the greats he admired—politicians with brilliant minds—had fallen into that trap. But not him, no, he’d been smug in his belief he’d never be so stupid.

Then he met Mara. She’d entered his life and rocked his world. Forbidden fruit until after the trial. But when the trial was over, if her loyalty to her uncle remained, they’d never speak again.

So he drank her in now. The sexy sway of her hips, the flutter of her blond hair as she pulled it back from her face in a repeated, unconscious action. Those luminous deep ocean blue eyes that conveyed exactly what she was feeling at any given moment. All the pieces of her came together to create a work of art, a masterpiece that was Mara Garrett.

She paused in her pacing. He noticed because her breasts stopped bouncing, and he was sorry for the interruption. “Earth to Curt? Hel-
lo
?”

He shook his head. “Sorry. Lack of sleep is getting to me, I guess.”
Liar
.

She smiled. “Liar.”

Hell. He had to add mind reader to her other attributes.

“For the record, you’re the one who stopped us from having sex.”

He grimaced. “I thought we were going to pretend that didn’t happen.”

“It would be easier if you didn’t look at me like I’m dinner.”

“I am not.” But of course, he was. She had utterly decimated his legendary control in—what, three, or was it only two?—days. He stood from the bed and pulled off the bedspread. It was cheap and scratchy and would probably melt in a warm dryer, but it was their only hope to get through this conversation in a timely manner so they could sleep for a few hours before hitting the road. He draped the blanket around her shoulders and gathered it in his fist at her throat. “Tomorrow we’re going to buy you a burka.”