Dangerous Curves (6 page)

“This innate strength you have, your confidence, your ease with yourself and with everyone else. You command attention without demanding it. You command attention just by being you. You certainly have mine.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. As a means of getting her to lower her defenses, she had to admit, it was pretty damned effective. Standing this close, looking into his eyes, she saw no sign of deception, no wavering. He was either very, very good at his job, or he was telling her the absolute truth. She wished the stakes on knowing which it was weren’t so high.

“I’m dead serious about this, Rio. When I take a job, I follow through on it no matter what. The FBI isn’t some alphabet-soup agency to me. I’m loyal and trustworthy to those who earn it.”

“So, this is about the job?”

“It was at first, Rio, but now…No. Not now. You have to admit the strength of the attraction between us isn’t something to be dismissed. I’m certain the way you responded to me isn’t normal for you.”

“No…no, that many orgasms aren’t normal for me.”

The corners of his mouth curved. “Your ability to find even a shred of humor at a time when I know you’re not feeling remotely jovial is another draw.”

And he drew her. It was what she’d been trying to put into place since he’d walked into the conference room that day. She’d tried to pass it off as a physical thing, a chemistry thing…but it was much more than that. Or she’d have never let him put his hands on her.

“I think nothing gets by you, not even me. Especially not me. You pull no punches, and take no bullshit,” he said.

She fought the urge to smile then. How did he do that? Her carefully constructed life was literally falling to pieces…and he was making her smile. Like she had
nothing better to do than stand here and flirt. Only this wasn’t about flirting. This was about survival.

“How have I earned either of those things from you? You know nothing of what might be going on with me.”

“Call it gut instinct.” He reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, then very lightly ran his fingertip along her cheekbone and down along her chin.

The brief contact made her so aware of him. He talked about commanding attention. He had no idea.

“You and me are in this together, and together we’re going to get out of it. Now let’s find some cover,” Max said.

“Let me put this on your gash first.”

His skin felt warm when she applied the bandage and guilt hit her with the force of a kick to the solar plexus. She still hadn’t told him the truth about the men who were after her. For now, their escape would have to take precedence. She’d worry about what to tell Max when they were safe.

Rio started forward and she and Max moved into the thick undergrowth. She breathed a sigh of relief once they got into the dark interior.

“So, we’re in the Ko’olau Forest Preserve,” Rio said, looking around at the lush surroundings.

“I think so. Farther in it’s closed to the public, so it’s pretty much deserted. Even if we made it back to Hana, there’s not much there except a small town, and a hotel. We’re not going to get anywhere near that tiny airport, even if we could get a flight off Maui.”

“They’re coming after us. I guarantee it. And they’re going to be watching all the airports, too.”

“And we can’t call the FBI or the DEA for fear the mole will be listening in. We’re really on our own.”

She tugged at her wet dress. “I need to change.”

“You have dry clothes in that bag?” Max asked hopefully.

“Yes, I do for both of us. I don’t leave anything to chance. And I don’t intend to go traipsing through the jungle in a delicate dress and sandals.”

“I think I’m going to start calling you Mary Poppins.”

“Hey, no joking about my flee bag. Besides, Mary would be good in a fight. She had that umbrella and that spit spot take-no-prisoners attitude.”

“Do you have weapons in that bag? I don’t mean an umbrella.”

“Ha, ye of little faith. Of course I have weapons. Glock—never leave home without it.”

“Where exactly are we?”

“Wait, I have a map of Maui.”

“Damn, you really are prepared.”

“Hey, I’ve been in tougher jams without all these fun toys and accessories, so when I get a chance to put together some gear, I don’t skimp.”

She really should make her way on her own. Max could make it to Hana, get off the island and back to the FBI. At least they would know she was in danger. Max must have someone he could trust at the agency.

“You really are some field agent, Rio.”

Her gaze rocketed over his face. It was a telling moment for her. They’d managed this far with someone on their tail, but the thought of separating from him felt
like betrayal. She was up to the challenge of playing hide-and-go-seek with Fuentes’s men. She was scared for Max, but she shouldn’t be. He was an agent. He’d had training just as she’d had, yet so had Shane and he was dead.

“Nothing better happen to you, Max.”

Max offered a comforting smile as he captured the back of her head, drawing her nearer. She went eagerly. His mouth covered hers, a brief, hot slide of lips and tongue speared a stab of desire through her, and she clung to him, forgetting the danger and drinking in his kiss. Damn they were good at this, she thought, and she wanted the chance for more—without guns blazing around them and the threat of Fuentes. He drew back, met her gaze, then kissed her again so tenderly it made her throat tighten.

“I can handle myself, Rio. Don’t worry.”

“I’ll worry until we’re out of this and we’re both safe.” She pulled the clothes out of the pack, along with soap and a towel.

“That waterfall will make a nice shower.” Max turned to look at the rushing water.

“Do you think we have time for the luxury?” Rio’s skin had started to itch from the salt water and the flight through the forest.

“Sure. I think they’ll be back full force at early light, but they’re not going to crash around in the jungle looking for us in the dark. They have us over a barrel since we’re on an island. No way off without using public transportation.”

“Let’s clean up, then, rest and get going an hour
before dawn.” Rio rose and slipped the straps of the dress off her shoulders. Max’s eyes focused on her like bright blue beams in the night.

“That’s a good plan.” He licked his lips and stood. “Need help with your dress?”

“I’ve been dressing and undressing myself for years, Max. Hmm, ever since I was six or so.” Giving him a sly smile, Rio slipped off her dress, revealing the white lace see-through bra and underwear she wore beneath. She bent over to pull off the once pretty, but now ruined white sandals.

“Damn. You’re bleeding,” he said. When she looked at him, he gestured to her calf.

She looked and saw blood on her leg.

Max was there, opening the kit and applying the alcohol-soaked gauze that stung and made her eyes water. She hissed in a breath and let it out slowly. “Sorry,” he said, looking up at her.

His fingers were so gentle and warm that shockingly, she felt her eyes sting.

Max Carpenter shook her foundations. And she didn’t know what to do about that. What she did know was Max was the last person she’d ever reveal that to. He already had a way of looking at her, into her, as if he saw far past her defenses, to some other place she was unaccustomed to people reaching. And that was without her letting him in.

She felt a fine trembling begin in her fingers and start to spread. She needed to find a way to deal with him and succeed in the task at hand without either one of them clouding their thinking further. They couldn’t
afford to drop their guard. Yeah, right. Tell that to the pulsing, demanding ache that blossomed as soon as he latched those laser beam eyes on her.
So move on as if it’s business as usual,
she told herself.

Rio reached down into the pack and pulled out a lethal Glock. She cocked the gun, snapping a bullet into the chamber.

“Expecting problems? Like primates?”

“Primates? Do you think there are any around here?”

“The only primate you have to be concerned with, Rio, is me.”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Sounds like monkey business to me.”

M
AX THOUGHT THERE WAS
nothing sexier than Rio standing there in her revealing underwear, holding a very powerful weapon.

“You look pretty good right now. Nothing at all like Mary Poppins.”

“Hey, don’t go looking for any more trouble.”

He met her gaze, loving the dare in her eyes. “You’ve fulfilled one fantasy.”

“Me, in my underwear, holding a handgun? This turns you on?” she asked, arching a tapered brow.

“Yeah.”

She snorted. “Men. Can’t live with them. Can’t shoot them.”

“Can’t you think of something better to do with me—to me—than shoot me?” he asked, sidling up to her.

“You’re a bad special agent, Max Carpenter.”

“To the bone.”

Reaching down, she cupped him through his jeans. “And a nice one it is. Better yet, you know what to do with it.”

“You don’t have to fire me up.” Then he leaned in
and whispered, “I didn’t forget how easy it was to slide into you.” Rio moaned and he turned her face to his.

His words didn’t stop there. “And the way you taste.” He trailed his tongue down her throat. Her head dropped back. “Everything,” he said darkly and scraped his teeth over her skin, then took her mouth only to find her taking him in the same heavy way.

Her chuckle was sultry, so feminine it slid over his skin like heated satin.

“Let me put the safety on this weapon,” she said before setting it and placing the gun on top of her pack.

“Oh, good. You’re talking about the gun.”

Her hands moved down his chest and closed over the bulge in his jeans. “Oh, is that a gun? Or are you just happy to see me?”

He nipped at the curve of her shoulder, her collarbone, his hand sliding over her waist, holding her tight lace-clad bottom in his hands.

Kneading, he pulled her hips flush with his.

“Max, you feel so good.”

“Wait until I’m inside you, pressed to the hilt.”

“Ooooh, I like a confident man.” Her eyes danced.

She left him no choice and he kissed her again.

Her laughter transformed into a series of soft gasps as she let him take her. He was beyond thinking about what was smart, and what was supremely stupid. He’d wanted her from the moment he saw her. And, right that very moment, she wanted him back. That was all that mattered.

“Waterfall,” she managed to say. “We’re on borrowed time.”

“Not sure I can walk that far,” he said. “Or that I’ll ever get these wet jeans off.”

“I have a knife,” she said, a bit breathless.

He looked down into her eyes, his whole body stiffening in erotic tension. The way she looked up at him made his jeans just that much tighter. At this rate, her cutting him out of his jeans was a sacrifice he was willing to make. “You’re not helping with talk like that.”

“Max…”

His grin was a quick flash. “I shouldn’t like it when you say my name like that. But I do.” The grin widened when she looked as if she might shoot him.

Instead, she gripped his loud shirt in both fists and dragged him closer to the falls. A tepid mist coated them, sending droplets running down their skin in little rivulets.

He worked her bra off in one effort and Max sighed in appreciation.

“I know what you’re thinking. You might as well say it.”

He met her gaze. “Nice rack.”

She laughed to herself, shaking her head. “I take it you’re a rack kind of guy.”

“I am. Yes, I am.”

“You just going to look?” She brought his hands to her breasts and the instant he cupped her, wild sensations started coiling out of control. She moaned his name, covering his hands as he massaged her breasts. She leaned back, offering herself, and he loved the breathless sound she made when his lips closed over her nipple.

He worried the tight, hard peaks, then took one deep
into his mouth, the hot pull of fire driving a bolt of heat to his groin.

His hands spanned her rib cage, pulled her down to the mossy bank. He slipped off her lacy underwear until she was completely naked like a forest nymph.

“Another erotic fantasy.”

“What?” she asked, laughter in her voice. “A naked woman with a nice rack?”

“Yeah. Is that wrong?”

“You are too much.” Her mouth played over his, her tongue laving. He mapped the curve of her behind, his stomach flexing when she opened his jeans, working them down with quite an effort. Then she started on the buttons of his shirt. When she got them undone and pushed it open, he dragged her into his arms, his mouth devouring hers until kisses weren’t enough.

They’d never be, Max thought, and sampled the underside of her breast, slick with the moisture from the rushing falls, cascading only a few steps from where they lay. His teeth raked her, his lips closing over her nipple again. She arched into him, her fingers sliding into his hair, holding him right there.

“This is so…amazing.”

“You are amazing,” he whispered, dragging his tongue down the taut line of her stomach. Her hands went to his shoulders, heat rolling off them. He was surprised they didn’t make steam.

He met her gaze and felt shattered, and when she reached between them, he stopped her, catching her hands.

“That could go off prematurely,” he said with an indrawn breath. “I want to make sure I hit the target first.”

“There’s more than one target, G-man.”

His dark chuckle rumbled through him before he laid his mouth over hers. Something unfamiliar crackled through him. It wasn’t instant, it’d been there, waiting—in that place he’d packed away most of himself. But the suspicion and the distrust dissolved. They were in this together and the need to link himself with her when he’d been solitary for so long was like something calling to him. He kissed her and kissed her until the barrier broke, poured like the pounding waterfall behind them.

“Rio,” he murmured.

Her answer spoke when her tongue slid into his mouth, when her hips pressed down on his. Max nearly roared, letting go a little more. His hands mapped her contours and she moaned, a delicious sound that nearly tore through his restraint. Maybe playtime was over.

Maybe not.

Her hands smoothed over his skin, and she dragged her tongue across his nipple, and then suckled.

It left him trembling, his back arched, and he gripped her hips, wedging her closer. His hand slid upward, along her ribs, teasing the underside of her breast.

At this point, life was very uncertain for both of them. Max had to admit he exerted a lot of control and he liked that control.

She teased, drawing back and making him chase her, then erotically licked the line of his lips before she pushed her tongue between. A hot, desperate need riddled him down to his heels as she kissed him. He wanted her right now, on the rocks again, and the image made his cock feel like lead.

She pulled away and his gaze rolled down her body, and everything between them seemed to go still. By increments she leaned closer, her nipples grazing his chest. The press of flesh to flesh held a sort of euphoria, crossing the line of intimacy. Max had helped a lot of people, rescued many, took lives to protect the innocent, but nothing compared to this. He fought for patience, his body flexing with need.

He rolled with her and her indrawn breath told him he’d surprised her, but she hung on.

He moved low, across her stomach; carefully he spread her legs, moving between.

He held her gaze as his finger followed the edge where her thigh met her groin. He found her and her gasp tumbled into his mouth as he stroked her. At eye level, he missed nothing—her panting, the way her hips started to move with him or her scent.

“Max, please.”

He thrust his fingers inside, and her hips left the ground, but he pushed her back till she lay flat, then his mouth was on her, tongue delving, and Rio moaned softly.

“Oh, Max. Oh dammit.”

He flicked her clit, and then circled it, over and over as his fingers slid in and out. He watched her writhe, draw her legs up and thrust her hips. He wanted to be deep inside her, yet Max held her there, a testimony to his restraint when he wanted to slam into her and fuck her silly. But this was different.

She sat up and climaxed in his arms, clinging to him, her hips thrusting, her expression startled and so unlike any before. Transformed in ecstasy. A little wild, a little
innocent. And he held her as she rode the wave of pleasure. Max almost came just watching her.

When she settled she went limp, but not for long. She pushed his erection down, the tip throbbing, and Max gripped her hips, dragged her close and slid into her in one smooth stoke. Eyes locked; they both breathed hard. The solid length of him was heavy and warm.

Her nipples barely touched his chest. His fingers drove into her hair, tipped her head back. It was a possessive move, capturing her, and when she rocked, his kiss deepened. His hand slid down to close over her breast, his thumb making lazy circles while his other hand guided her, urged her. She never broke eye contact, her body undulating like the vast ocean against vast shores.

Max glanced down to see himself disappear into her body. He slammed his eyes shut and fought for command, to keep words he probably shouldn’t say from spilling out. Though planted deep inside her, his body wasn’t listening. He leaned in, kissing, easing her to her back. He withdrew and thrust, and Rio bowed beautifully beneath him. She begged him to come closer, but he’d crush her so he grasped a lip of rock, one hand under her hips, giving them quick motion.

“That’s right, Max, faster.”

“Rio,” he groaned. “I’m trying to hang on.”

“Don’t. Give it to me.”

It broke his control as effectively as an order. Willpower ebbed into a flood of energy and his hips pumped. She responded by taking him in, closing her legs around his hips. She whispered his name, what he
was doing to her, how she felt—and her lusty words pushed him to the brink.

Then he felt her tense, quicken, roll her hips in ecstasy as she reached between them to feel him slide deeply into her, then retreat. Her touch was heavy and bold, and he loved this side of her. Her flesh hardened around him, trapped him in a throbbing flex of feminine muscle and slick skin.

Max wanted more, to connect when he hadn’t—he wouldn’t allow himself to trust. He laced his fingers with hers, trapping her, spread under him like a sacrifice. Hovering on stiff arms, he held her gaze.

“Let go, Max.”

His control severed and Max cocked his leg and thrust, driving her across the mossy bed, a primal need taking him over completely. She came and held nothing back from him, whispering her satisfaction. A flex of twisted muscle and slick bodies meshed as his climax joined hers.

Max threw his head back, suspended, the wild grip of her flesh wringing him. Splintered rapture shredded his composure. Yet in the deep throes of release, he noticed things.

Every inch of her skin melded to his, her little tremors, the fear in her smoky eyes. “Aah, Rio, bull’s-eye,” he said softly, driving his arms around her, the last threads of passion dissolving under a slow, thick kiss.

“That was some nice aim, G-man.”

He rolled to his side, gently pulling her injured leg across his, and watched her world come into focus. Her lashes swept up, her eyes soft and satisfied. Her lips
curved gently and Max felt air lock in his lungs. Flushed and rosy, she was incredibly beautiful right then.

Needing to touch her again, he brushed her hair back, tucking it in behind her ear.

“You’re messing up this timetable, but good, Carpenter.”

“Am I? It was worth it.”

“We should, you know, get going.”

“Okay.” But he didn’t move.

Rio chuckled. “We have no more time for…”

“This?”

His erection nudged her and he watched her eyes widen. “Max, you sure recover quickly.”

“Good reflexes,” he replied, giving her a wicked smile. He didn’t give her a chance to answer as he took her mouth.

An hour later, they were done with both fooling around and the shower. Working on getting dried off and dressed, Max asked, “You wouldn’t happen to have any food in your Poppins bag, would you?”

She nudged him in the ribs. “Men. It’s all about appetite.”

“Yep, the no fuss–no muss gender.”

He leaned down and kissed the spot where her neck curved into her shoulder.

Dressed in khaki walking shorts now, along with a green T-shirt, a sweatshirt tied around her waist, she slipped on a pair of green socks. Not only did the woman pack for any contingency, but she also matched her clothing while she was at it.

She pulled a comb through her hair, scooped it back
and did some crazy wrapping-and-tucking thing until she had a thick wet bun.

She turned toward him. “I have PowerBars and water, so don’t get too excited.”

If only she had a clue how easily she excited him, she’d run for the hills.

Even with no makeup, and her cheeks a little flushed from her exertions in the waterfall, Max’s body leaped to life as though he hadn’t just gotten more satisfaction than that in a very long time. He immediately bent down to lace up the boots she’d provided before she caught him staring at her all moony-eyed or something. She’d also given him a navy blue pair of walking shorts, and a baby-blue T-shirt. She’d matched his socks, too. He smiled to himself. “That would be great. I’d appreciate it.”

She gave him a cool look and he wasn’t exactly sure why she was a bit distant. Maybe now that things had calmed down, she wasn’t sure where things stood between them, or where he wanted them to stand. That made two of them.

She handed him a PowerBar and a bottle of water, then settled next to him. Neither of them spoke for several long moments. “It smells like rain in the air, which isn’t surprising since we’re sitting smack-dab in the middle of a rain forest, but I for one hope it holds off until we can find some shelter. I don’t relish getting wet again.”

Rio chewed a chunk of bar then swallowed. “I’m with you on that. I don’t have any more dry clothes in my pack.”

He nodded.

“So, I’m sure your training in the military helped you blow up two enemy boats.”

“Marine. Two tours in Iraq when we first went in. When I got out, I applied for Quantico. That kind of training never leaves you.”