Mackenzie's Pleasure (14 page)

pleasure. His beard-stubbled chin rasped against her breasts, her belly, but he was always

careful not to cause her pain as he searched for all the other bruises on her body and paid them

the same tender homage.

"Tell me how they hurt you," he murmured, "and I'll make it better."

At first Barrie shied away from divulging the details, even to him, but as the hot

afternoon wore on and he pleasured her so often she was drunk with the overload on her senses,

it began to seem pointless to keep anything from him. Haltingly she began to whisper things

to him.

"Like this?" he asked, repeating the action that had so upset her—except it wasn't the

same. What had been meant to punish at the hands of the kidnappers became purest pleasure

in Zane Mackenzie's hands. He caressed her until her body forgot those other touches, until it

remembered only him.

She whispered another detail, and he wiped out that memory, too, replacing the bad with

caresses that lifted her to peak after sensual peak. She couldn't imagine being handled more

tenderly than he handled her, or with such delight. He didn't try to hide how much he

enjoyed looking at her, touching her, making love to her. He reveled in her body, in the

contrast between her soft curves and his hard muscularity. It aroused her to be the focus of such

intense masculine pleasure, to feel his absorption with the texture of her skin, the curve of

her breast, the snug sheathing between her legs. He explored her; he petted her, he drowned

her in sexuality. The area around them was still so busy they didn't dare converse much, so they

communicated with their bodies.

Three times, while they were lying drowsily in the aftermath of loving, he checked his

watch and reached for the headset radio. He would click it once, listen, then put it aside.

"Your men?" she asked, after the first time.

He nodded. "They're hiding out, waiting until it's safe to rendezvous."

Then the chatter of voices outside became louder as some people approached, and

they fell silent.

The afternoon wore on, and the light began to dim. She wasn't particularly hungry, but

Zane insisted that she eat. He pulled up his pants; she once more donned his shirt. More

formally attired now, they sat close together on the blanket and finished off the bread and

fruit, but neither of them wanted any of the cheese. The water was warm and still tasted of

chemicals. Barrie sat within the curve of his arm and dreaded leaving.

She wanted to be safe and comfortable again, but she hated to lose this closeness with

Zane, this utter reliance and companionship and intimacy. She wouldn't push him to continue their

relationship; under the circumstances, he might feel responsible and think he would have to let

her down gradually, and she didn't want to put him in that position. If he indicated that he

wanted to see her afterward, then... why, then her heart would fly.

But even if he did, it would be difficult for them to see each other regularly. He was

more than just a military man; he was a SEAL. Much of what he did couldn't be discussed.

He would have a home base, duties, missions. If they escaped safely, the danger to him didn't

end there. A chill settled around her heart when she thought of the times in the future when,

because it was his job, he would calmly and deliberately walk into a deadly situation. While

they were hidden in this small room might be the only time she could ever be certain he was

safe and unharmed.

The fear and uncertainty would almost drive her mad, but she would endure them, she

would endure anything, for the opportunity to see him, to grow closer to him. Their

relationship, if there was to be one, would have to grow in reverse. Usually people came to

know each other, grew to trust and care, and then became lovers; they had become lovers

almost immediately, and now they would have to get to know each other, find out all the quirks

and personal history and tastes that made them individuals.

When she got back, she would have to deal with her father. He must be frantic, and once

she was safely home, he would be even more paranoid and obsessive. But if Zane wanted

her, she would have to deliberately hurt her father's feelings for the first time in her life; he

would be supplanted as number one in her life. Most parents handled the change in their

offsprings' lives with happiness, assuming the chosen mate was decent, but Barrie knew it

wouldn't matter who she fell in love with, her father would be opposed to him. No man, to

him, was good enough for her. Even more, he would bitterly resent anything that would

take her out of his protection. She was all he had left of his family, and it didn't help that she

greatly resembled her mother. As ambassador, her father had a very active social life, but

he'd only ever loved one woman, and that was her mother.

She would never turn her back on her father, because she loved him dearly, but if the

chance for a relationship, possibly a lifetime, with Zane was in the balance, she would put as

much distance between herself and her father as necessary until he accepted the situation.

She was planning her life around dreams, she thought wryly as she brushed the bread

crumbs from the blanket. She would do better to let the future take care of itself and concern

herself with how they were going to get out of Benghazi.

"What time do we leave?"

"After midnight. We'll give most people time to get settled down for the night." He

turned to her with the heavy-lidded gaze she had already learned signaled arousal and,

reaching out, he began to unbutton her shirt. "Hours," he whispered.

Afterward they lay close together, despite the heat, and dozed. She didn't know how long

it was before she woke, but when she did it was to almost total darkness. Unlike the night before,

though, when she had lain in cold, lonely terror, now she was pressed against Zane's side, and his

arms securely held her. Her head was pillowed on his shoulder, one bare leg was hooked

over his hips. She stretched a bit and yawned, and his arms tightened, letting her know that

he was awake. Perhaps he had never slept at all, but had held her and safeguarded her. The

noise beyond the ruined building had died down; even the sounds from the docks were muted,

as if the darkness smothered them.

"How much longer?" she asked, sitting up to fumble for the jug of water. She found it

and drank; the taste wasn't too bad, she decided. Maybe she was becoming used to the

chemicals, whatever they were.

He peeled the cover from his watch so he could see the luminous dial. "Another few

hours. I need to check in with the guys in a couple of minutes."

She passed the water jug to him, and he drank. They lay back down, and she cuddled close.

She put her right hand on his chest and felt the strong, healthy thudding of his heart. Idly she

twirled her fingers in the crisp hairs, delighting in the textures of his body.

"What happens then? When we leave, I mean."

"We get out of the city, make our rendezvous point just at sunrise, and we're picked up."

He made it sound so simple, so easy. She remembered the swim trunks he wore and

lifted her head to frown at him, even though she knew he couldn't see her. "Is our rendezvous

point on dry land?"

"Not exactly."

"I see. I hope you have a boat?" It was a question, not a statement.

"Not exactly."

She caught his chest hairs and gave them a tug.
"Exactly what do
you have?"

"Ouch!" Snagging her hand, he disentangled it and lifted it to his mouth, lightly

brushing his lips across her knuckles.
"Exactly,
we have a Zodiac, a seven-man, motorized

inflatable craft. My team came in short two men, so there are only six of us. We'll be able to

fit you in."

"I'm so glad." She yawned and snuggled her head more securely into the hollow of his

shoulder. "Did you leave someone behind so there would be room for me?"

"No," he said shortly. "We're undermanned because of a problem I'll have to take care

of when we get back. If there had been any other team available, we wouldn't be here, but

we were the closest, and we needed to get you out in a hurry, before they moved you."

His tone dissuaded her from asking about the problem that put him in such a black

mood, but she'd seen him in action; she knew she wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of

his anger when he got back. She waited while he picked up the .headset and checked in with

his men, then returned to her questions.

"Where do we go in the Zodiac?"

"Out to sea," he said simply. "We radio ahead, and we'll be picked up by a helicopter

from the
Montgomery,
an aircraft carrier. You'll be flown home from the carrier."

"What about you?" she whispered. "Where will you go?" That was as close as she would

allow herself to get to asking him about his future plans.

"I don't know. My team was performing exercises on
the Montgomery,
but that's

blown to hell now, with two of them injured. I'll have to clean up that mess, and I don't know

how long it will take."

He didn't know where he would be, or if he did, he wasn't saying. Neither was he saying

that he would call her, though he
did
know where
she
would be. Barrie closed her eyes and

listened painfully to all that he wasn't saying. The hurt was worse than she'd anticipated, but she

closed it off in a place deep inside. Later it would come out, but if she only had a few

hours left with him, she didn't intend to waste them crying about what might have been. Few

women would have a chance to even know a man like Zane Mackenzie, much less love

him. She was greedy; she wanted it all, wanted everything, but even this little bit was more than

a lot of people experienced, and she would have to be grateful for that.

Whatever happened, she could never return to the safe little cocoon her father had

fashioned for her. She couldn't let herself forget the kidnapping and the unknown
why
of it.

Of course, her father would know why; the kidnapper would already have made his demands.

But Barrie wanted to know the reason, too; after all, she had been more directly affected than

anyone else.

Lightly Zane touched her nipple, circling it with his callused fingertips and bringing it

erect. "I know you have to be sore," he said, sliding his hand down her belly to nestle it

between her legs. "But can you take me again?" With the utmost care he eased one long finger

into her; Barrie winced, but didn't flinch away from htm. Yes, she was sore; she had been

sore since the first time. She had discovered that the discomfort was easily discounted when the

rewards were so great.

"I could be persuaded," she whispered, sliding her hand down his belly to measure his

immediate seriousness. She found that he was very serious. Granted, she had no experience

against which to compare this, but she had read magazine articles and knew that usually only

teenage boys and very young men could maintain this pace. Maybe it was because he was

in such superb physical condition. Maybe she was just lucky, though twenty-four hours

before she hadn't thought so. But circumstances had changed, and so had she.

Fate had given her this man for now, and for a few more hours, she thought as he

leaned over her and his mouth captured hers. She would make the most of it.

* * *

Once mote he led her through the maze of alleys, but this time she was clad in the

enveloping black robe, and a chador covered her hair. Her feet were protected by slippers, which

were a little too big and kept slipping up and down on her heels, but at least she wasn't

barefoot. It felt strange to have on clothes, especially so many, even though she was bare

underneath the robe.

Zane was once more rigged out with his gear and weaponry, and with the donning of

those things he had become subtly more remote, almost icily controlled, the way he'd been the

night before when he'd first found her. Barrie sensed his acute alertness and guessed that

he was concentrating totally on the job at hand. She silently followed him, keeping her head a

little bowed as a traditional Muslim woman would do.

He halted at the corner of a building and sank to his haunches, motioning for her to do

the same. Barrie copied him and took the extra precaution of drawing the chador across her

face.

"Two, this is One. How's it looking?" Once more he was speaking in that toneless

whisper that barely carried to her, though she was right behind him. After a moment he

said, "See you in ten."

He glanced around at Barrie. "It's a go. We don't have to shift to Plan C."

"What was Plan C?" she whispered.

"Run like hell for Egypt," he said calmly. "It's about two hundred miles due east."

He would do it, too, she realized. He would steal some kind of vehicle and go for it.

His nerves must be made of solid iron. Hers weren't; she was shaking inside with

nervousness, but she was holding up. Or maybe it wasn't nervousness; maybe it was