Ready (31 page)

“Or catching bomb-wielding stalkers.”

Ed Jones was still in critical condition. His heart had an arrhythmia and the stress of no sleep and eating convenience foods while he stalked her had exacerbated the problem to deadly proportions. Other tests had shown he was suffering from liver cancer, too, most likely linked to inhaling the fumes while making napalm. The advanced stage of the cancer indicated that even if they got his heart stable again, he probably wouldn’t live long enough to go to trial.

To her way of thinking, the most ironic thing about the whole mess was that the Joneses’ daughter had been so concerned about her mother, she’d given her Lise’s book to read. While Mrs. Jones had called one of the crisis numbers in the front, Lise had no doubt that her daughter would have found another way to get through to her mother if Lise’s book had not worked.

Ed Jones had brought about his own demise…in more ways than one.

Lise shivered. “He could have gotten counseling, been willing to change. He didn’t have to lose his marriage and his family.”

“He made the choice,” Joshua said, proving he knew who she’d been thinking about. “We all do.”

“Like you choosing to retire before you’re maimed,” she said with definite satisfaction.

“It’s not exactly retirement.”

“It’s close enough.” And she kissed him to show how much she liked that.

When she was done, he rubbed his cheek against hers. “I always figured a husband and father should put his family first. A mercenary can’t do that.”

“Husband?” she asked, breathless, her eyes now glued to his while her heart beat a nervous tattoo. “
Father?
”

“I know I’m not the best investment you could make when it comes to picking out a mate.”

The man really did see things in very primitive terms.
Mate
indeed.

“I’ve done and seen a lot that I wouldn’t wish on another person, but I need you, Lise, and I don’t think I can let you go. I’m hoping you feel the same way.”

From going full throttle, her heart seemed to stop beating altogether and she could barely breathe. “
You want to get married?
”

“Yes.”

“But…”

“You said you love me. Did you mean it?”

After all the times she’d said it, she couldn’t believe he had to ask that. “
Of course I meant it
. What do you think, I go around saying that kind of thing to lots of men?”

Under the circumstances, she could be forgiven a little sarcasm. Her feelings had never been in question.

At least not to her.

“No, but have you considered that it could be gratitude?”

Did he really think she couldn’t tell the difference between sincere thankfulness and love? “If it was, then I’d have a case on Nitro and Hotwire, too, not just you.”

He did not like hearing that, his whole body tensing around her while his eyes burned down at her with censure. “I’m not just talking about the Nemesis mission, but a lot of women think they love the first man they have sex with.”

And he thought their circumstance was the same? Man, he had a lot of insecurity she would never have guessed he was capable of feeling.

“Most of them are right. Just because the relationship doesn’t work doesn’t meant they didn’t love those men. Anyway, you
weren’t
the first man I made love with.”

“In a way, I was.”

She knew immediately what he was getting at. He was the first man to give her the kind of pleasure most women would kill for. “I hate to break it to you, but it’s really not the same.”

“Are you sure about that?”

For such a smart, logical, and usually rational being, he was certainly leading with his emotions on this one.

“I don’t think so, and if you were thinking more logically, you wouldn’t, either.” But he wasn’t thinking completely reasonably because his heart was involved.

She wanted to sing hosannas and shout the “Hallelujah Chorus.”

“Joshua, a woman doesn’t have to sleep with ten different men to know when the right one comes along. I’ve never felt about another man the way I feel about you.”

“You loved Mike.”

“Yes, I did, but what I felt for him was so shallow compared to what I feel for you that there’s no comparison.”

“Are you sure?”

She stared at her sexy, badass mercenary and shook her head with exasperation. “Cryin’ out loud, Joshua. What do I have to do, write it across my forehead? Yes, I’m sure. I love you and it isn’t just because making love with you is so awesome. I love the deep well of integrity inside of you, I love being with you. Believe it or not, you’re peaceful to be with…for me, anyway. We fit on a level that has nothing to do with the physical. But most of all, I love the man your past has made you to be, the man who looks at the present with the eyes of a protector and the heart of warrior.”

Dark brown eyes turned suspiciously bright and he nuzzled her neck. “So, let’s get married. You’ve got a month off. We can take a long honeymoon, maybe travel to a jungle as tourists for once, or something.”

She wanted it more than anything she’d ever desired, but if he didn’t love her, wouldn’t he grow bored with their marriage?

“Are you sure you want
marriage?
”

“Yes.” He kissed her again, this time his lips hard and insistent, but she fought losing herself in a sensual daze.

She needed answers to tough questions and she wasn’t hiding from asking them anymore.

She pulled away, her breathing as rapid as her pulse. “Joshua, do you love me?”

He took so long to answer that she began to despair it wasn’t going to be the right one.

When he started talking, his voice was low and furred with feeling. “For a long time I thought you were making up an image in your head of someone I wasn’t, someone you could fall in love with, but you saw me more clearly than anyone ever has.”

She was glad he realized that. “I don’t love you for who you could be, but for who you are.”

“Yes. That’s an incredible feeling, sweetheart.”

“I’m glad.”

The question was, did he feel something similar?

“The first time I saw you, I wanted you.”

She smiled in memory. “I could tell. You were intense.”

“You were scared.”

“I didn’t want to lose myself again.”

“Loving someone shouldn’t make you less than what you are, it should make you more.”

“It does.” She’d finally figured that out.

“I know.”

Her heart stopped and then started beating so fast, she felt faint. “You do?”

He cupped her face, the hot water lapping around them. “I love you, Lise Barton. Please say you’ll marry me because letting you go would mean tearing my heart out.”

Emotion choked her and she could barely get the word out of lips stiff with joy. “Yes.”

His kiss was filled with the promise of every tomorrow.

They made love there in his underground jungle paradise, using love words they’d kept locked deep inside.

Afterward, they called Jake and Bella to tell them the good news. Her brother wanted them to get married on the ranch and Lise agreed without a murmur of protest.

She didn’t care where she got married so long as she got to spend the rest of her life with her Wolf.

Two weeks later, she walked out of the bathroom in their honeymoon hideaway located in the heart of the Brazilian jungle.

The bedroom was lit with candles, soft drums played outside the window, and an array of exotic orchids and other flowers filled the room with their scent. Joshua was lying on the bed, propped up on his elbow and wearing nothing but a wolf’s smile.

“Come here.”

She shook her head. “I’ve got something to give you.”

“I know you do, but I can’t have it with six feet separating us.” Then, apparently too impatient to wait for her, he came up off the bed in a rush and pulled her into his arms, into his body, into his love.

They fell together on the bed and she forgot about her present until he made a noise of surprise and grabbed the small, rectangular box from where it had fallen under his muscular butt. “What’s this?”

“Open it and see.”

He undid the ribbon and lifted the black lid off the gold box. She knew what was inside. A small white stick with two blue lines.

He looked up at her. “Is this what I think it is?”

She licked her lips. “What do you think it is?”

“A pregnancy test.”

“Yes.”

“The blue lines mean it’s positive?” he asked, his voice giving nothing away about how he felt, but the throbbing erection against her thigh was another story.

She nodded. “I’m going to have your baby.”

She found herself flat on her back and he loomed above her, the biggest smile she’d ever seen on his face, his eyes molten ingots that burned her with his pleasure. “I was right.”

She smiled up at him, her heart so full, she was afraid it would overflow in happy tears. “Yes. Our bodies are very compatible.”

“So are our hearts. I love you, Lise.”

She whispered the words back into his mouth as he kissed her with passion and tenderness that made her glad she’d taken a chance on loving a badass mercenary with a tendency to boss other people around.

As she’d told him once, some risks in life were worth taking.

And here’s a first look at
Gemma Bruce’s sexy whodunit
WHO’S BEEN SLEEPING IN MY BED?
available now from Brava…

N
an’s heart skittered to a stop, seized up for a moment, then banged back to life, hammering at her rib cage. Okay, just one little backslide, just one night. She deserved it. And besides, Delia had eaten three doughnuts.

It didn’t have to be a backslide. Damon Connelly might be the kind of man who liked to talk after sex. She could find out a lot of information that way.

Who was she kidding? She was rationalizing. She knew it and she wanted to ignore it, but she made a last-ditch effort to control herself.

“I’m not having casual sex these days.”

Damon’s eyebrows twitched. It was such a turn-on. “It won’t be casual. I promise.”

He stepped toward her. She stepped back against the table. His hands slipped around her waist. He lifted her up and sat her down on the top.

Nan reached back to steady herself. Her hand squashed into the baguette, but she was beyond caring.

He eased a hip bone between her thighs, then stepped between them. Pulled her forward until she was straddling him. Her skirt rolled up her thigh. She locked her ankles behind him and pulled him even closer.

He groaned as body parts came together in a teasing dance. Then his mouth covered hers so violently that she fell backwards. He grabbed her around the shoulders and held on, assaulting her mouth with thrusts of his tongue. Mashing his lips against hers, driving her teeth against her lip, drawing blood.

He eased up and ran his tongue along her teeth and lips, licking the blood away. “Sorry,” he mumbled and went in for a second offensive.

This time he was gentler. It was even better, knowing that he was holding himself back. It gave her a chance to reciprocate.

She was vaguely aware of her cell phone ringing; a faint echo from inside her purse that she’d hung over a chair back. She briefly considered reaching for it, but couldn’t let go of Damon.

His hair was soft and just the right length for wrapping around her fingers. She did and pulled. He groaned again and deepened the kiss. This time she fell backwards onto the tabletop, taking Damon with her.

The French bread went down for the count. Neither of them noticed. Damon’s hands were everywhere, roaming at will, his touch hitting every spot but the one that needed it most.

“Not a table, either,” he said against her ear. And suddenly she was lifted up. And being carried across the room, her legs still locked around his waist.

He shouldered the door open and stepped into the hall.

“Bedroom,” he said.

“Yes,” she answered. Didn’t understand why he laughed.

He started down the hall with her clinging to him. Paused and threw the first door open. It was the closet. A muffled expletive and he started up again. The bathroom.

“And behind door number three…” she said breathlessly.

“Aha,” said Damon as he opened the door to the bedroom.

Anticipation rushed through her. Just one little backslide, she promised. He’d be gone in twenty minutes—forty, max. But until then…Shit. He’d stopped just inside the door. Why was he just standing there?

“Hmm?” she asked.

Damon jerked. “Just looking.” Then he moved again, across the room, and they fell on the bed together. He loomed over her, expression stark, eyes glittering with something scary.

A part of her brain, the part that was still trying to think rationally, was clamoring for her attention. She didn’t know anything about Damon Connelly. She was nuts to let this man into her house, much less into her bed. And then the part of her that was responsible for her being sent to Camp Wilderness spoke up.
You’ll get information this way. And have a hell of a ride along the way.

She consigned her rational self as well as her good intentions to the bottom of Long Island Sound and reached for the buttons of Damon’s shirt. It made the tussle in the parking lot look like an amateur sting. This was a fight to the finish. They groped for each other, getting in each other’s way, but neither yielding ground.

Finally, Damon pushed her to her feet. His shirt hung by one arm. His trousers were halfway unzipped. Her dress was up by her waist. He steadied her on her heels, then pulled the dress over her head in one smooth movement. She stood before him in nothing but four-inch heels and a beige silk thong.

A sharp crack of sound, somewhere between a laugh and a cry, escaped from deep in his throat. He was breathing hard and taking her in.

He yanked the sleeve over his wrist and tossed his shirt past her. She started to reach for him.

“No,” he said. “Stay right there. Just like that.” His eyes were feasting on her. Scrutinizing every inch of her. While her insides were tugging with desire, with impatience, and with shear physical need. Her thong was wet with anticipation.