Our Little Secret (26 page)

Maybe he felt the same way. When he climbed back in bed, his mouth followed his hands everywhere, sucking her breasts into hard peaks and licking shivers across her stomach. When he parted her thighs and dipped his head she tensed. This was something Jeff didn’t care to do, something she’d never have been bold enough to ask for, but Drew didn’t hesitate. His tongue slid down her folds, then up again to explore her hidden nub with excruciating, slow circles that made her fist her hands in the bedspread and gasp, “Oh!” Releasing her breath, she said, “
Ohmygod
,” which came out as one long moan.

Lauren cracked an eye open and peeked at the mirror. Her thigh hid the most significant part from view, but just the sight of Drew between her legs with his head bent over what had become the throbbing center
of her universe, sent a surge of lust through her body, trembling down to her bare bottom where his hands gripped her.

She moaned aloud, riding a building pressure.

“Please, Drew,” she said, not even sure what she was asking for, then couldn’t manage to finish the request as the pressure crested and she arched against him, whimpering and shaking, and finally collapsing limply on the bed.

When she opened her eyes he was grinning at her from between her legs, which was erotic enough to send residual tingles rippling through her.

“How are you doing?” he asked.

“Terrific.” She took a deep breath and ran her tongue across her dry lips. “Also thirsty. Let me up.”

“Stay there.” He stood and handed her the rest of her chardonnay which she sipped while looking out of the corner of her eyes.

There it was, right in front of her, jutting out proudly and putting all sorts of daring thoughts in her mind.

She lifted the empty glass. As he took it from her, she grabbed him, pulling so he had no choice but to step forward. Drew uttered a groan of pleasure that turned into an indrawn breath as she ran an experimental lick down the length of him. He pulsed against her palm.

“I hope you know that thing could go off.”

“Not yet,” she told him sweetly. She was going to put him through the same intense pleasure he’d given her while
he
trembled and gulped deep breaths. A minute later the empty wineglass hit the carpet with a small thud and Drew uttered a strangled, “Lauren.”

She looked up. “Yes?”

“This is great, but I want to be inside you. Now.”

It was easy to convince her. They lay entwined on the bed, touching and stroking until Lauren was once again swept up in the incredible waves of desire she always felt with Drew. His hands found all the right places, and the pressure kept building, rushing in her ears and swirling through her brain until she lost the ability to focus on anything but the glorious feeling of him moving above her and inside her. She met his rocking hips in the cradle of her own until all the pressure gathered into one tremendous tidal wave that crested and broke, crashing through her pelvis and clenching muscles all the way down to her rigidly curled toes, before easing back to tiny ripples of contentment.

Lauren sighed but didn’t move, luxuriating in the weight of Drew lying, warm and damp with sweat, on top of her. Next to her ear where his face was buried in her hair, she heard a mumbled, “You’re fantastic.”

Not
that
was fantastic,
you’re
fantastic. The difference probably meant nothing to him, but it made her blink hard to clear the excess moisture from her eyes. “So are you,” she said softly, and he raised his head to smile and kiss her before going to dispose of the condom.

He called out from the bathroom, “Next time I promise we’ll make love in some completely inappropriate location, someplace sure to warm your perverted little heart.”

But they didn’t. The next time was when the alarm woke them at 3:00 a.m., and it made no difference to her newly awakened desire for inappropriate sex
that they were in bed with the lights out and curtains drawn. Making love with Drew was mind-blowing, no matter where they were. That realization was profound enough to make her shove him out of the shower while she stayed under the pounding stream of water, biting the stub of her fingernails and contemplating the recent oscillations in her emotional life.

She hadn’t expected her attraction to Drew to be this overwhelming. But it was, and it had nothing to do with his lean, mountain climber’s body or his dark, hungry gazes. That was just the bonus part. It was because of who she was when she was with him. She was herself. Not the Lauren who made herself into someone else’s idea of what she should be, but the person she really was. The one who liked sexy dresses and impractical sports cars, and dangerous men who didn’t follow all the rules. And probably a lot of other things she didn’t even realize yet.

She was looking forward to finding out what they were.

She emerged from the bathroom in clean underwear and yesterday’s jeans to find Drew at the window with the lights off, frowning at the dark parking lot three floors below. He motioned her over and pointed to a black car below, parked in a shadowy corner away from the bright halogen lights.

“See those two guys? They’ve been parked there since we woke up.”

A chill replaced the warmth in her stomach. The men had a clear view of their Volvo across the parking lot.

“They must have figured out that we switched cars,” Drew said. “It didn’t take them long.”

“You think they’re Secret Service?” That wouldn’t
be so bad. Better than if it was the guy who’d tried to run them down.

“Must be. They look official.”

“Why are they waiting for us in the parking lot? Why not come to our room?”

“For one thing, they don’t know where it is. I paid with cash. They couldn’t know that Mr. and Mrs. Grabowski from Phoenix are the people they want. Also, I’m not sure they want to stop us. They might think we’ll lead them to Meg and my dad.”

Part of her wished she could do just that. She didn’t understand why Meg and Harlan would run from the Secret Service, the very people who were best equipped to protect them.

“You paid for the plane tickets with Steven’s credit card. Do you think they made that connection?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Probably. They must have the legal authority to access credit card information.”

She turned to him. “So what do we do?”

“We call a cab. We aren’t sure it’s Agent Chapman, and I don’t see any reason to make it easy for them.” He looked her over. “You stay here. I’m going to bribe the desk clerk into opening the gift shop downstairs. They should have some clothing.”

What they had wasn’t her style, but she supposed that was best. The Grabowskis met their cab in polo shirts featuring the Capitol dome and baseball caps with “Washington, D.C.” embroidered above the bill. Lauren tucked her hair under the back, the best she could do to achieve a different look.

The crowds at the airport helped her feel anonymous, but they also allowed anyone who might be
following them to be anonymous, too. Since they couldn’t expect to be welcomed by Senator McNabb if they showed up trailing the very agents she’d tried to avoid, Lauren kept scanning the crowds for familiar faces.

There were more than a dozen men she’d seen when they entered the terminal. At the ticket counter, at security, and at the boarding gate they saw the same group of people who were traveling to Fort Myers on their flight. It was useless to try guessing which of them might be agents.

Lauren fidgeted as they sat at the gate across from theirs, trying to look inconspicuous. “These polo shirts are kind of tacky attire for meeting Senator McNabb,” she told him.

“We’ll buy something else when we get to Fort Myers.”

She kept her voice low. “How much money did you bring?”

“A couple thousand, emergency money from my dad’s safe. I think we can afford a few items of clothing.”

“Do you think I should buy some hair dye?” she asked.

He laughed. “I think we can skip that for now.”

She looked toward their gate as first class passengers were called to begin boarding. “I’m going to the ladies’ room before we get stuck on the plane for a couple hours. I’ll be right back.”

Drew rose. “I’ll wait outside the door.”

“Don’t be silly, I’ll be fine. It’s right over there, see? No one could force me to leave without you having a clear view of the whole thing.”

He sat down with obvious reluctance. “Hurry up.”

Lauren shouldered her purse and walked briskly toward the restrooms. Her timing was unfortunate—several women waited in line ahead of her. Ten minutes later, she dried her hands under the blower and hurried out the door just as the final section of her plane was called to board.

The gentleman exiting the opposite door was also in a hurry. Lauren was so intent on spotting Drew that she didn’t see the man until she slammed into him.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, grabbing his arm for balance. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I—” Lauren’s voice caught in her throat and stuck there as she lifted her eyes to his.

She stared, open mouthed.

His long blond hair was combed straight back but she’d know his perfect features and aloof gaze anywhere.

The man’s irritated gaze met hers, and his hand shot out, binding her wrist in a powerful grip. When she gasped, his mouth twisted into a knowing smile.

The same smile she’d seen in Meg’s X-rated pictures.

Fear washed over Lauren like a wave. She took an instinctive step backward, and the man’s hand turned, twisting her arm and shooting pain through her wrist. She couldn’t break his grip, but if she screamed and made a scene he would have to release her. Before she could try it he stepped closer.

“If you struggle, I’ll handcuff you. No one will interfere with the arrest of a fugitive,” he whispered harshly.

Her panicked gaze flew past him, searching for Drew.

“Lauren!”

The man turned, saw Drew rushing toward them, and hesitated. In that moment of indecision, his grip eased. Lauren wrenched her wrist free.

She’d taken the man by surprise, but he recovered quickly. He did the only thing he could to stop Drew from tackling him.

The man forcefully hit her in the center of her back,
shoving her off balance. Her injured wrist crumpled on impact with the floor of the concourse. She flattened less than gracefully, her stomach smacking the carpet as air rushed out of her lungs.

Drew’s knees hit the floor in front of her nose.

“Son of a bitch! Easy, honey.”

Before she could move, Drew’s hands were on her, gently lifting as he questioned her anxiously about scrapes, sprains, and broken bones.

Lauren shook her head and muttered “no” to everything, not sure if she was telling him that no, she wasn’t hurt, or no, she was not all right. When he wrapped her in his arms she decided it didn’t matter.

“Damn it,” Drew muttered in her hair. She looked up, following his angry glare down the concourse where the fair-haired man had sprinted through a cluster of businessmen and disappeared into the crowd around a boarding gate.

He was gone.

Drew smoothed her hair back. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

The palms of her hands stung, her wrist ached, and her knees burned, but Drew was holding her close against his firm, broad chest. “I’m fine,” she said.

More than fine, but she didn’t say that part. She hadn’t even realized it until he’d asked. But sitting on the floor of the concourse, emotionally shaken and moderately rug-burned, his simple question had made her look inside herself for the answer. It was an odd way to find out just how important he’d become to her, but “fine” only skimmed the surface.

Drew kissed her forehead and pulled her into
another fierce, protective hug. He guided her past staring people to the end of the boarding line. Using both hands, he lifted her wrist and examined it closely. Even though the red marks were fading, Drew frowned as he smoothed his fingers over her skin. He probed gently, flexing and massaging, causing her to flinch a couple times but going a long way toward soothing her rattled nerves.

“Nothing broken,” he concluded with obvious relief. “Maybe sprained. Can you move your hand?”

Lauren flopped her hand up and down, testing. “It still works.”

Drew smiled, then pulled his brows together in a worried frown. “I didn’t see the guy well, but that hair—”

“It was him,” she confirmed, shivering at the memory. “The same guy who was in the pictures with Meg. Why would he be here?”

“He’s probably one of the guys following us.”

It was the only logical answer. But it didn’t fit with the suspicions Drew had voiced about the photographs. “I don’t see any reason why one of Meg’s exboyfriends would follow us,” she said, thinking aloud. “I bet those photos really are faked.”

Drew tipped his head, acknowledging the possibility. “Your faith in your sister is touching, honey, but keep in mind he could have seduced her in order to blackmail her. Blackmail seems to be the name of the game for everything that’s been going on.”

Lauren wanted to jump to Meg’s defense, but in truth she was no longer sure just what her sister would do or with whom she would do it.