Kiss Me While I sleep (30 page)

“For someone who’s been in the wilds most of his adult life, you’re very sophisticated,” she murmured, suddenly uneasy as that discordant detail registered with her. She should have noticed before, but she wasn’t greatly alarmed because she knew his weapon was in his duffel in the closet-and hers wasn’t

“Because I speak French and stay in luxury hotels? I stay in places like this when I can, because there’ve been times when all I had between me and the sky was air. I like driving fancy cars because sometimes I’ve had to get around on horseback-and that’s assuming there were even horses.”

“I wouldn’t think French was very common in South America, though.”

“You’d be surprised. I learned most of it from a French expatriate in Colombia. Now, my Spanish is much better than my French, and I also speak Portuguese, plus a smattering of German.“ He gave her a crooked smile. ”Mercenaries are a polyglot group by necessity.“

He’d never actually come right out before and said he was a mercenary, though of course she’d understood he was either that or something close to it.
People hired him to make things happen
was what he’d said, and she hadn’t for one minute thought he was talking about corporate takeovers. Her uneasiness faded; of course he would speak several languages.

“Being married to you must have been hell,” she said, thinking of his ex-wife at home with two little kids, not knowing where he was or what he was doing, if he’d ever return or die in some remote region and his body never be found.

“Thanks a lot,” he said, starting to grin. His blue eyes twinkled at her. “I’m a lot of fun when I’m around, though.”

There was no doubt about that. On impulse she got up and deposited herself on his lap, slipping her hand inside the collar of his shirt and cupping the back of his neck as she leaned into him. His skin was warm, his neck hard with muscle. He supported her with his left arm behind her back, while his right hand immediately began stroking her thigh and hip. She kissed the underside of his jaw, feeling the stubble of his beard rough against her lips and inhaling his scent, man mixed with the faint remnants of the aftershave he’d used that morning.

“What’s this for?” he asked, though he didn’t wait for the answer before giving her one of those slow, deep kisses that made her feel as if her bones were melting.

“For being a lot of fun,” she murmured when he lifted his mouth; then she went back for seconds. His lips were more forceful this time, his tongue more demanding. His hand shaped her waist, slid under her shirt and up to her breasts. She caught her breath as he pushed her bra up and molded her bare breast with his palm. His hand was hot on her cool skin, his thumb gentle on her nipple.

She pulled her mouth free and took a deep breath, burying her face against his throat as warm pleasure began tightening her loins. She hadn’t felt desire in such a long time that she had forgotten how it slowly unfurled, spreading throughout her body, making her skin ultra sensitive, so that she wanted to rub against him like a cat.

She wanted him to hurry, to get the awkward first time over with so she could relax, but for all his love of speed, hurrying didn’t seem to be on his agenda tonight. He stroked her breasts until they were so sensitive the sensation bordered on pain; then he tugged her bra back into place and hugged her tightly to him. She knew he was aroused; either that, or he had a backup pistol shoved in his pocket, a big ten-round forty-five caliber from the feel of it. But he eased her back, kissed the tip of her nose, and said, “There’s no hurry, we’ll eat dinner, relax for a while. It won’t kill me to wait.”

“No, but me it might,” she snapped, sitting up and glaring at him.

His mouth quirked into a smile. “Just be patient. You know the saying, ‘All good things come to those to wait’? I have my own version of that.”

“Yeah? What?”

“Those who wait, come good.”

He needed slapping, he really did. “I’ll hold you to that,” she said, rising from his lap. She picked up the room service menu and tossed it at him. “Order.”

He did, lobster and scallops, a bottle of Beaujolais, chilled, and apple tart. Determined to play it as casually as he did, she resumed reading while they waited for room service to deliver their order. He leafed through both newspapers, used his cell phone to call the States and check on the condition of his friend who had been in the car accident-unchanged, which caused his expression to set in lines of worry.

He wasn’t carefree, she thought, watching his face. No matter how much he laughed and teased, his emotions weren’t all on the surface. There were moments when he was lost in thought and there was no humor at all on his face or in his eyes; she had seen flashes of cold, grim determination in him. There had to be more to him than just good times, or he wouldn’t have succeeded in his chosen field, though she wondered if someone actually chose to be a mercenary or gradually fell into it. He’d evidently made some money at it, so that meant he was good. That likeable, charming manner was just part of who he was; the other part would be fast and lethal.

Lily had shied away from relationships with normal men over the years, men who held ordinary jobs and had normal concerns. Not only would someone like that never understand how she did what she did, she had always been concerned that she would overpower a man like that in an intimate relationship. She
had
to be forceful and decisive, and that wasn’t something she could turn on and off like a water tap. When it came to romance, she didn’t want to dominate, she wanted to be a partner, but that meant by necessity she needed someone as strong in personality as she was. In Swain she sensed an easiness, a self-confidence that wasn’t at all threatened by her. She didn’t have to pander to his ego, or dampen her own personality so he wouldn’t be intimidated. If Swain had ever been intimidated in his life, she would be surprised. He’d probably been gutsy and a hell-raiser even when he was a little boy.

The more she observed of him, the more she respected him. She was falling fast and hard, and there was no net beneath her.

After they ate, he watched Sky News for a while, and Lily read some more. They could have been a couple for years for all the impatience he was showing, but she remembered the erection that had thrust against her hip and knew otherwise. A man didn’t get painfully hard when he wasn’t interested. He was giving her time to relax, not pressuring her; he knew, of course, that eventually they would be going to bed together and the inevitable would happen then. She knew it, too, and knowledge was its own seduction. She couldn’t look at him without thinking that soon he would be naked and so would she, soon she would feel him inside her, soon this coiling tension inside her would find a release.

At ten she said, “I’m going to take a shower,” and left him to Sky News. The complimentary toiletries in the marble bathroom were designer brands, and smelled heavenly. She took her time, washing her hair, shaving her underarms and legs-an American habit she’d never lost-then smoothing scented lotion all over herself before blow-drying her hair and brushing her teeth. Feeling as ready as she ever would, and having killed most of an hour, she put on one of the thick hotel robes and tightly tied the belt around her before walking barefoot back into the room.

“You’re a bathroom hog,” he accused, turning off the television and rising to his feet. His gaze went over her from her shiny hair down to the tips of her toes. “I expected you to come out wearing your pajamas. I’ve been thinking about getting them off of you.”

“I don’t wear pajamas,” she said, and yawned.

His brows snapped together. “You said you wore pajamas.”

“I lied. I sleep nude.”

“You mean you ruined a perfectly good fantasy just for the hell of it?”

“It was none of your business what I wore to bed.” She gave him a smug smile and went to the sofa, where she picked up her book and sat down, curling her legs under her. She was pretty sure she’d flashed him all the way to Christmas-she tried, anyway-because he abruptly turned around and went into the bathroom without another word, and about thirty seconds later she heard the shower running. He was in a hurry now.

Watching the clock on the bedside table, she timed him. His shower lasted just shy of two minutes. Then she heard the water running in the basin for forty-seven seconds. Twenty-two seconds after that he walked out of the bathroom wearing a damp towel knotted around his waist, and nothing else.

Lily stared at his freshly shaven jaw. “I can’t believe you shaved that fast. It’s a wonder you didn’t slit your throat”

“What’s a severed jugular compared to getting you in bed?” he asked, walking to the sofa and taking her hand, then pulling her to her feet. He switched off the lamp and towed her to the bed, turning off lights as he went until the room was dark except for one bedside lamp. He threw back the bedcovers, then turned to her.

Standing beside the bed, he cupped her face and kissed her. She tasted toothpaste; somehow in that race through the bathroom he’d managed to brush his teeth, too. She was in awe of his dexterity, because moving at that speed, if he hadn’t cut his throat shaving, he should have at least jabbed himself in the eye with his toothbrush.

Despite that evidence of his urgency, he took his time kissing her. She put her arms around him and pressed her palms to his back, feeling the smooth damp skin, the flexing of muscles. During the kiss he lost the towel, and the belt of her robe came undone. Lily let her arms drop to her sides, and the robe slid off her shoulders, down her arms to pool around her feet. Then there was nothing between them except sighs and anticipation, and he switched out the last light, then lowered her to the cool sheets.

She reached for him as he got into bed beside her, letting her hands learn him until her eyes adjusted to the dark. She felt the crisp hair on his chest, his hard abdomen and sleek sides, slid her palms up his muscled arms and over the thick curves of his shoulders. He was busy with his own exploration, stroking her bottom, her thighs, then rolling her to her back and stringing kisses from her lips down her jaw and throat, then sliding his open mouth across her breast until one aching nipple slipped into it. He sucked leisurely, gently, and Lily made a soft sound of pleasure.

“I like that,” she whispered, putting her hand on the back of his head to keep him there.

“So I see.” He gave her other nipple equal time, leaving them both wet and hard, standing up like berries.

“What do you like?” She moved her hand lightly across his belly, just brushing across the tip of his straining erection, then reversed direction and searched out his flat nipples, teasing them until tiny points stood out

“Yeah,” he said roughly. “All of that.” He shivered as ripples of sensation washed over him. Not at all reticent, he took her hand and moved it down to where he wanted it. She closed her fingers around his penis and he jerked, it jerked, pulsing in her grip. Experimentally she gave him a few lingering strokes; her fingers barely reached around him and her inner muscles clenched in response to that thickness.

He blew out a whistling breath and forcibly removed her hand. Lily growled a protest and reached for him with her other hand, managing another couple of strokes before he grabbed that hand, too. “You’d better let me cool down, or this will be over with before it gets started.”

“After all the bragging you’ve done, you’re good for only one round?” she murmured. “I’m shocked.”

“Sassy, aren’t you?” He pinned a hand on each side of her head, then levered himself over her. “I’ll show you one round.” At last, at last, his weight settled on her and her legs automatically parted to cradle him between them, her legs bending so her thighs gripped his hips. She could feel herself opening to him; he released her left hand to reach between them and position his penis. There was heavy pressure at the entrance to her body and she lifted herself into it, wanting to feel that first long, penetrating slide of flesh into flesh, but the pressure began to burn and nothing happened. He drew back a little and pushed again. This time she couldn’t help a small gasp of pain as once again her flesh refused to accept him.

Chagrined, she felt her face begin to burn. “I’m sorry.” She was embarrassed by her dryness. “It’s always been difficult for me to just go with the moment. I can’t seem to stop thinking.”

He gave a rough little laugh, the sound puffing against her hair. He nuzzled her temple. “If
not thinking’s
a requirement, then I’m not doing it right, because I don’t think I’ve ever stopped thinking. I take that back. For about ten seconds, I definitely don’t think.” His lips moved to her earlobe, and he nipped her with his teeth. “I’m the one who should apologize, darlin‘, for rushing you like this.” His accent was stronger, a west Texas drawl slowing his speech. “A woman who hasn’t made love in six years needs tender loving care, and I just skipped right over some mighty important steps.”

“Steps?” He made it sound like programming a VCR. She thought about being indignant, but the little biting kisses he was giving her broke her concentration.

“Um-hmm.” He was nipping at her neck now, then her collarbone. “Or rather, spots. Like this one right here.” He lightly bit down on the ligament where her neck and shoulder joined, and Lily caught her breath as surprising pleasure roared through her.

She clutched his sides. “Do that again.”

He was nothing but obedient, kissing and biting her neck until she was arching beneath him, her breath coming in quick pants. Those little bites were so arousing she thought she could almost climax just from them. He pinched her nipple, a hard.