More Than a Mission (11 page)

She dragged her gaze from his lips and up to his eyes. Against the backdrop of sky and sea, they seemed even more blue than before. “Are you hungry?” she asked, but the question suddenly had little to do with food.

Aidan placed his hand on her waist, on the bare piece of skin exposed by the crop top. His hand was hot. His palm rough against the soft skin of her midsection. “Famished,” he replied and closed the last little bit of distance between them.

She had to look up at him with his greater height. She watched as he bent his head until his lips were almost on hers. “Is this crazy?” he asked and again, she was puzzled by his choice of words.

Brushing her lips against his in the barest of kisses, she said, “Is it because I'm your boss?”

He pulled away then and his face mirrored his bewilderment and withdrawal. “Let's eat,” he said and held the basket so she could lay out the blanket.

She hesitated for a moment, equally confused and…hurt. She wasn't normally one to just throw herself at a man and now that she almost had…

Denied, her repressed side almost gloated. It stung a bit, but she wasn't going to let that ruin what had been a wonderful day.

Spreading out the blanket on the prickly grass by the rocky bluff, she then took the picnic basket from him and placed it to one side. Then she accepted the remaining items from him, including the bottle of wine, and worked on creating a spur-of-the-moment meal.

The goat cheese went on one plate and she surrounded it with the pear tomatoes, drizzling them with the fresh-pressed virgin olive oil she had bought. She took a bit of sea salt and, with her fingers, sprinkled it all over the cheese and tomatoes.

She placed that plate in the space between her and Aidan, who had taken a spot on the opposite side of the blanket.

On another plate, she placed the rolls and slices of a dry-aged ham similar to a prosciutto purchased at one of their stops. That plate joined the other, and then she handed Aidan the bottle of wine, a corkscrew and some glasses.

“Are you always this prepared?” he asked and took the items from her.

“We always picnicked,” she explained. “Sometimes it was after a shopping expedition or a hike. Sometimes a day at the beach.”

“It sounds like your family had fun,” he said and she nodded, but battled the mix of sadness and happiness the memory brought.

“Yes, we did. I miss them a lot.”

Her voice had a tight feel to it. As he looked at her again, he could see the glint of unshed tears. He picked up his hand and moved it toward her, wanting to comfort her once again, but then quickly let it drop back down. This was crazy, he thought, much as he had told himself earlier. Crazy because there were too many secrets between them. Too many doubts.

So instead, he concentrated on opening the wine and pouring glasses for each of them while she put out the final plate—a dish piled high with an assortment of summer berries.

He handed her a glass filled with Hector's wine, and offered up a silent toast. He waited for her to take a roll, break off a piece and then scoop up a bit of the oil-drizzled cheese. She popped the snack into her mouth and smiled. “Delicious.” After, she reached for one of the tomatoes and did the same.

Aidan joined her, ate some of the bread and cheese. The flavors were…amazing. The tang of the cheese and fruitiness of the oil. The creaminess of it all against the crustiness and yeasty taste of the bread. He reached for a tomato and like the bread and cheese, the flavor was intense. Earthy and sweet. “Really, really good.”

“Try this,” she said and offered a bit of the ham that she had wrapped around a chunk of the bread. He let her feed him the morsel. Again, the tastes and textures were alive in his mouth.

“Hmm,” he replied and washed down the bite with a sip of the wine. It was, as she'd noted in the tasting room, quite good. And he could taste the hint of berries.

Or maybe it was his imagination, since from beyond the rim of the glass he was busy watching Elizabeth toss back a bit of the wine and eat a strawberry. As he brought the glass down, their gazes collided and he realized that no matter what he thought she might be, he found her incredibly interesting. Complex. Desirable.

And the feeling, it occurred to him as her gaze travelled over his face and settled on his lips, was apparently decidedly mutual.

Take it slow, he told himself. He needed to explore all the nuances of the woman sitting across from him, just as he could with the wine in the glass. Maybe he could uncover other things about her, as well, during this little…interlude.

He reached for a strawberry—a big, red ripe one. Picking it up, he brought it to her lips.

She covered his hand with hers, as if to steady it. A sweet touch. Gentle.

She took a bite of the berry and the juice from it escaped onto her lips, reddening them. She licked the juice away with her tongue.

He nearly groaned as he imagined that tongue licking other things. As it was, he had to shift his position on the blanket to ease the pressure of his erection against his jeans.

Men were sometimes too easy, Elizabeth thought. But as she took note of other things, her mouth suddenly went dry and she realized, maybe men and women weren't all that different, as parts of her suddenly became…ready.

Physical response notwithstanding, she knew nothing about Aidan other than he would leave, and he in turn knew little about her. Not who or what she was. Not what she wanted from life.

But then again, maybe this didn't have anything to do with any of that. Maybe this was one of those carpe diem times. Time to seize and be seized in return without any thought as to where that would lead. When the voice of common sense rose up to tell her it would lead to nothing good, she batted it way, tired of being sensible.

Grabbing another bit of bread and cheese, she once again offered it up to him. A little smidge of cheese remained on his lips and he must have sensed it for he was reaching up to wipe it away when she said, “Let me.”

He stopped, his gaze on her face as she shifted on the blanket to move closer and then, flicked her tongue over his lips to remove that one errant piece of cheese.

He moaned then. Or at least she thought he did, but he made no move to take it any further.

So maybe he wasn't as easy as she had thought. It wasn't going to stop her from doing the seizing. She was a modern woman after all.

Aidan took a deep breath to control himself since he wanted nothing more than to kiss her and lay her down on that blanket and take off every last piece of…

He gritted his jaw and told himself to maintain perspective. He was investigating her. She was likely a renowned assassin who would gut him quite easily with that little knife she was using to remove the skin from a pear she had pulled out of another bag.

With the pear peeled, she made slices which she placed on the plate beside the strawberries. Once she was done, she sipped her wine, grabbed a little more of the bread, cheese and ham. Another tomato.

He watched her enjoy the food with such gusto. He wanted to join her in that sensation and so he did the same, eating more of their purchases. He reached for a slice of pear but was waylaid as she offered her slice to him; he, in turn, offered her his slice.

The pear was sweet and so ripe that the juices dripped onto his fingers and downward. His gaze was locked with hers as they brought the slices of fruit to each other's mouths. Their eyes never wavered from each other as they both bit down and ate the pear slices.

But when nothing was left and he would have reached for another piece, she did the unexpected.

She grabbed hold of his hand and brought it close to her mouth. Slowly, she licked the pear juice from each of his fingers and then finally, slipped his index finger into her mouth to lick it some more.

It was his undoing; he nearly burst the seams on his jeans.

He grasped her head in his hands, but some last little crumb of chivalry reared its head as he asked, “Are you sure about this?”

“No,” she said, and he had to smile at her honesty.

Thieves, he reminded himself as he closed the distance between them and said, “Me, neither,” just a moment before he finally kissed her as he had wanted to all day long.

T
he other night hadn't been an aberration, she thought. He really was an amazing kisser. His mouth was hard and soft. Gentle and rough. Warm.

Unbelievably delicious, she thought, as she licked his lips and tasted the pear and berries and cheese, and, beneath it all, the elusive but heady taste of Aidan.

She whimpered. Or, at least, she thought she did, which made him back away for a second until he realized it was a good kind of sound and he smiled.

She could feel that smile against her lips which in turn, made her chuckle.

He seized the opportunity then and dipped his tongue into her mouth, increased the pressure of his hand on the back of her head. She met his tongue with hers, tasting him. Exploring the different sensations of his mouth, tongue and lips. Of his warm breath coming roughly against her mouth as he expelled a ragged groan.

“Lizzy Bee,” he said, but she pulled away from him then, afraid of the intimacy in his tone.

“Don't call me that.” She added hastily, “Please.”

The warmth in his eyes grew cold. “I guess only your friends call you that,” he said and withdrew from her.

Talk about ruining the moment, she thought and plucked at the fabric of her pants. “I'm sorry. I didn't—”

He cut her off with the curt motion of his hand. “It's okay, Elizabeth. Really. I remember the rules—don't touch.”

She struggled for the right words. “It's not that. It's just…You're right that only my friends call me that. And my family. And you're—”

“Neither,” he quickly shot out and peered at her, his gaze condemning.

“Neither,” she repeated lamely. “But I'm…attracted to you and…”

Her hands searched in the air as if she might pluck her explanation from there, but could find nothing better than, “I like you. I want to get to know you. I thought I could do this right now, only—”

She didn't get to finish as he suddenly resumed where they'd left off—kissing her with his lips and tongue until she moaned, and he finally eased away. “We need to take this a little slower, right?”

“Definitely,” she confirmed and smiled. “Sometimes you can't rush things.”

“Right,” he said and picked up his glass. “Like a good wine—”

“It takes patience and…nurturing,” she finished for him.

“Caring,” he surprised her by saying, and, for a moment, it seemed as if he'd surprised himself by admitting it, so much so that there was almost a physical reaction on his part as his body tensed and he sat up straighter.

“Aidan?” she asked and he forced a smile.

“This is…new for me,” Aidan replied. It wasn't a lie. It was new for him on so many levels. He had never lost control with another woman before as he had with Elizabeth. He had never lost his perspective while on an assignment, but here he was, clearly in jeopardy of doing so. Or maybe he had already, since he found himself reviewing over and over again all the things he'd learned about her in the past few days, trying to weigh them against the evidence that he knew pointed to her being the Sparrow.

When she gave him a shy smile and the blush of the sun's kiss deepened on her face, it became even harder thinking of her as an assassin.

“It's new for me, too,” she said.

He nodded in resignation, uncomfortable with where this was leading. “Let's finish up and head back.”

“Let's,” she said as if sensing that to push more right now would only cause problems. “The coast road is beautiful during the day, but at night it can be a little difficult.”

He had been so distracted by her, he hadn't realized how much time had gone by and how quickly dusk was coming upon them. Perusing the shoreline, he caught glimpses of the road they would take back to town. It wound wickedly along the coast. In spots, the road hugged the edges of the rocky palisades before it led downward toward the two towns nestled at the base of the harbor.

He helped her put away the food that remained and fold up the blanket. Once everything was carefully stowed in the trunk, Elizabeth got back behind the wheel of the car and he slipped in beside her. As she started up the car, he said, “I had a nice time today.”

Grinning broadly, she replied, “I did, too, but the day's not over yet. You're going to love the views on the road home.”

He was kind of loving the view right now, he thought, but didn't say so. It would just embarrass her. Instead, he contented himself with watching her out of the corner of his eye as she steered onto the road and they began the downward trek along the coast.

It was as beautiful as she had said: the harsh imposing cliffs and rocks against the cerulean blue of the ocean and baby blue of the sky, Elizabeth in her pink a vibrant contrast in the foreground.

She handled the car well, maintaining a controlled pace along the downhill road with its constant curves, some of which came precariously close to the rocky edges of the cliffs. They were about halfway down the road, along a stretch that was a little straighter, when an SUV suddenly appeared behind them.

Aidan was a bit surprised he hadn't noticed the car before, or maybe it had just turned onto the road behind them. Something bothered him about the car. Okay, maybe more than one thing. The windows were tinted so darkly it was impossible to see inside. The black of its oversized hulk loomed behind them as it picked up speed, getting closer and closer.

Elizabeth had noticed the car, as well, and muttered, “Wonder where he's going at that speed. It gets kind of hairy up—”

She didn't get to finish as the SUV suddenly lurched forward and bumped them from behind. The Gaston swerved wildly as Elizabeth battled for control, but she quickly regained it and centered the car in her lane.

Aidan gripped the wooden dash with one hand, Elizabeth's seat with the other as he braced himself for another possible impact. He looked back and noticed that the SUV had fallen behind by at least a car length. Elizabeth had sped up to avoid the other vehicle.

But a second later, the black SUV hurtled forward like a battering ram, smashing into their back bumper once more. The sickening crunch of metal and tinkling of glass sounded. The impact whipped them back and forth within the car, which fishtailed once more with the blow.

Elizabeth, however, didn't panic. If anything, a determined glint came into her eyes. Her jaw set into a tight line. She expertly steered out of the fishtail and into the middle of the road. This time, she kept dead center, ignoring the white lines for the lanes as if to give herself room to maneuver.

Aidan looked back and out of the corner of his eye, noted Elizabeth using the rearview mirror to keep the SUV in sight while staying aware of the road ahead. A road that was veering sharply to the right. To the left—nothing but sky and sea. Not even a guard rail.

Shit, he thought, until Elizabeth—looking more like an Indy race-car driver than a chef—downshifted and hit the gas. Wheels squealed as they shot around the curve and created a few car lengths of good distance on the bulkier SUV, which barely managed to stay on the road.

Dirt kicked up as the driver of the other vehicle skirted the warning edge along the coast side of the road, but then they were into another short straightaway and the SUV picked up speed.

So did Elizabeth.

“Elizabeth,” he called out to her, for the wind was rushing past them, noisy and wild.

“Hold on, Aidan,” she screamed at him before she steered confidently through another curve, increasing the distance between them and the SUV, which fishtailed before coming through the curve more slowly.

But as before, on the straightaway the SUV made up some distance until it was nearly on their tail.

And then Elizabeth did the unexpected.

With another cliff-edged curve before them, Elizabeth pulled over hard to the right, did a one-eighty into a switchback and stopped, tires skidding on the soft shoulder.

Surprised and unprepared, the SUV shot by them and then Elizabeth became the chase vehicle, pulling out and staying close to the SUV as it now tried to outrun them.

“Get the plate numbers,” she called out to him, but the car in front had no plate.

As soon as she realized that, she dropped back, slowing down as their attacker increased the distance between and then finally, after one last barely controlled turn on a curve, the SUV sped out of view.

Elizabeth pulled over then. Her hands were fisted against the steering wheel, her knuckles white from the pressure. She was breathing roughly, as was he, he realized. “You okay?”

She nodded, obviously unable to speak.

“Would you like me to finish the drive?” he asked and she nodded, popping out of the driver's seat.

He got out of the car and met her halfway, at the back of the Gaston where she had stopped to look at the damage. Tears filled her eyes and she wrapped her arms around herself tightly.

Embracing her, he winced at the dented chrome bumper, scratched and bent trunk, and the jagged glass shards that remained of her taillights. Her father's pride and joy, he recalled, and trying to comfort her, said, “We can fix it.”

She nodded brokenly and tears finally slipped down her face as she replied, “But it will never be the same.”