Celestial Bodies (21 page)

The sunlight spilling through the window shone on Nick’s coal-black hair and cast a glow over the smooth expanse of his skin. Wanting his comfort, and only half-remembering that she had come here to comfort
him
, Diana slid into his arms with a long sigh of homecoming.

His chest was warm and hard against her cotton blouse. She nuzzled his neck, and her senses reeled with pleasure at his musky scent and salty taste. His body felt strong and solid and earthy in her arms, and he wrapped himself around her with a fierceness that made her feel cherished and protected.

Nick’s mouth was gentle at first, then hungry, as if he had been starving for her since the last time they had met in this room. His tongue stroked and thrust and played inside her mouth, until she grew dizzy and collapsed against him in mindless delight. The soft sounds coming from deep in his throat and the restless, encouraging touch of his hands assured her that everything she did pleased him.

She slid her palm down his smooth rib cage, across his hard belly, and let her fingers tease their way through the dark hair at the juncture of his thighs. He pressed his forehead against hers, gritting his teeth, while he breathlessly urged her to keep doing what she was doing.

Diana kissed his jaw, now darkened by the shadow of a beard. She wrapped her questing fingers around him, so hard and hot, and explored him gently until he told her that her delicacy was driving him crazy. When she changed tactics, his deep groans and the trembling of his body filled her with a sense of power and awe.

He tangled his hands in her hair and swept feverish kisses across her neck and shoulders. “Stop, Diana, stop,” he whispered.

She laughed shakily. “A minute ago you were saying, ‘Don’t stop.’”

“A minute ago I thought I had everything under control.” He seized her wrists and brought both of her arms up around his neck. But the hot, wet kiss he gave her told her he was out of control for good now.

Diana gasped and started squirming instinctively when she felt his hands moving under her billowing cotton skirt and inside her panties.

“Oh,
yes
,” he muttered against her neck. He fumbled impatiently with the zipper at the back of her skirt. “How does this thing work?” he demanded after a few unsuccessful attempts.

“I’ll do it,” she offered between the insistent kisses he pressed onto her mouth.

“No, turn around.” His hands lifted her effortlessly and spun her so that her back was to him.

She braced her hands on the sides of the doorway for support, feeling as if all her bones and muscles had turned to liquid. Through the haze of passion she laughed again as she felt him tug ineffectually at her skirt fastening.

“It’s stuck,” Nick said accusingly.

“Well, I didn’t know this was going to happen,” she reminded him.

“Mmm, you should have,” he murmured against her ear. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her affectionately from behind. There was an unexpected pause in the action. Then she heard his voice against her hair, uncharacteristically hesitant. “Uh, Diana?”

“Hmm?” She pressed herself against his warm, hard length, drowning in the wonder of him, provocatively rubbing her bottom against his rigid manhood.

He drew in a sharp breath. “I just realized that I didn’t know this would happen, either. I don’t have anything with me, honey.”

He sounded so depressed that she almost laughed again. She caressed the hands at her waist and said, “It’s all right. I took care of it already.”

“You did?”

“Yes.”

“Upstairs?”

“Yes.”

There was another pause. Then his arms tightened around her and he said, “Oh, Diana, I’m
so
glad to hear that.”

She grinned and raised one arm behind her to touch his cheek. “Now if you could just get me out of this skirt...”

He buried his face in her hair and muttered, “The hell with it.”

Bold and urgent, his hands found their way under her skirt again, and he pulled her panties down over her hips, thighs and calves until they fell to the floor.

“That’s better,” he whispered. His right arm encircled her, and he slid his palm slowly, teasingly down her belly, then began to pull up her skirt inch by inch.

Diana gripped the doorjamb tighter, afraid she would fall into a heap if she let go now. She drew in deep gulps of air and lowered her head to watch him slowly, inexorably draw her skirt out of his way. When the material was all bunched around her waist, he let his fingers slip gently into the silky hair he had revealed and the warmth and wetness it concealed.

As soon as he touched her there, Diana started panting and clutching urgently at the arm around her waist, the heavy wrist sliding against her bare abdomen, the thigh pressing against her and offering support.

He held her tightly and brought her to a sharp, piercing, steamily erotic climax, inciting her with his hot whispers, the rhythm of his hands, the warmth of his kisses.

“Okay?” he asked softly when her body had quieted at last.

She sighed in response and rolled her head back on his shoulder, savoring every point of contact between their overheated bodies.

“Ready for the second act?”

“Don’t tease me,” she whispered languidly, still enjoying the pleasure flowing through her.

“Brace yourself.”

She summoned what little was left of her strength and tensed her arms against the doorjamb as he entered her, forcing his way into her waiting, feminine heat with gentle strength while she pushed back her hips to meet him.

He rested against her for a moment, trembling and fighting for control, then slid his arms around her and started unbuttoning her blouse, while their joined bodies throbbed impatiently.

“Hold still,” he whispered against her cheek.

“I can’t,” she moaned, moving slowly and fluidly in an instinctive rhythm.

A moment later he had her blouse open and was rubbing his palms across her swollen nipples. That was when he lost what remained of his resolve to take things slowly.

It was the culmination of every fantasy he had tortured himself with for the past two weeks, hot and steamy and raw, urgent and demanding and primitive. They were both a little rough and extremely noisy, and he wondered in his last rational moment how they were even able to keep standing.

Diana arched her back and cried out when she felt her body ignite with the pleasure that only he could give her. Instead of fading, it grew more intense when she felt him thrust inside her one last time, before the two of them quivered and sagged together against the side of the doorway.

She could hear his labored breathing mingling with the heavy, unsteady sound of her own gasps, could feel him tremble and hold onto her as they rode wave after wave of ecstasy, then finally floated together to the shore of reality.

Even before she opened her eyes, she knew their position was precarious. “I’m going to fall down in a minute,” she warned him in a daze.

He nuzzled her neck. “The bed’s only ten feet away. Think we can make it?”

She smiled and shook her head, so he half-dragged, half-carried her across the room. He pulled her down to lie comfortably with him in the tangled sheets, and they rested for several minutes in contented silence.

At last Nick rolled to his side and faced her across the pillow they shared. “It was like this last time, too,” he murmured, running his fingertips lightly down her throat and breasts.

“Like destiny,” she whispered.

“Don’t start that with me,” he pleaded. “At least wait till I’ve got back enough strength for an argument.”

“I’m not going to argue with you.”

“
That’s
a first.”

“You can think what you want. And I’ll think what I want.”

He grinned and pushed her hair off her forehead. “My redheaded rationalist,” he teased.

She rolled her eyes. “That’s easy for you to say. You haven’t lived in the House of Ishtar for the past couple of years.”

“I’ll admit that strange things happen here.” He leaned over to kiss her softly. “And some of them are pretty damn wonderful.”

She smiled and ran her fingers over and around the smooth, hard muscles of his shoulders, unable to stop touching him. “Nick?”

“Hmm?” He dropped a kiss onto her breast.

“I’m sorry I was so snide in your office yesterday.”

He sighed. “That’s okay. Yesterday seems like a century it ago.”

“I was so resentful.”

“I know, honey.”

“And I guess TV and the movies give us such a negative image of private investigators.”

“You mean you thought I was some sort of meat-eating, skirt-chasing, gun-toting private eye?” he asked archly.

She propped herself up on an elbow. “Actually, you
do
eat meat, you carry a gun, and you’ve been chasing my skirt ever since we met.”

“It’s not your
skirt
I’ve been chasing,” he confided. “By the way, can’t you take this thing off now?” He tugged again at her stubborn zipper. “And your blouse, too.”

“How much longer will we be here?”

“Until sunset. And I’m thinking of an encore.”

“Right now?” Her eyes flicked down his body.

“Of course not right now. Give me time. But,” he added hopefully, “it’ll help if you take off your clothes.”

She undressed for him, moving slowly and teasing him, enjoying the way his eyes burned into her and followed every movement. She had never felt as free and uninhibited as she did in his bed. She had never enjoyed anything as much as she enjoyed being with him. When her clothes formed a heap next to the bed, she lay in his arms again, going to him as naturally as if she had always rested there.

After a while, though, unpleasant thoughts began to intrude. Diana didn’t know if it was the right moment to bring it up, but they had to start being completely honest with each other. She wanted to know the truth. “Nick?”

“Hmm?”

“Why are you being sued?”

He tensed. She waited in silence for a few moments. He started to relax again, and she felt his hand stroke her hair. “It’s a reasonable question,” he said at last.

“I want to know,” she said steadily.

“Maurice LeCoz hired me to find his wife.”

“Was she kidnapped, too?”

“No.” Nick pulled away from her and sat up. Diana propped herself against the pillows and watched him as he faced her. “Not really. When LeCoz hired us, he said that she had disappeared and that he thought she had been seduced and possibly abducted by another man. A man of ‘low reputation,’ as he put it.”

“And you accepted the case?”

“Sure. It seemed routine, a wealthy man and a missing wife. And it was possible that she was in real trouble.”

“Did that make a difference?”

His eyes flashed briefly. “Of course it made a difference. Peter and I started out at the biggest, wealthiest agency in New Orleans, Diana. The clients were all corporate businessmen and rich socialites. If I were in it for the money, I would have stayed there.”

“Is that how you met Mrs. Bouvier?”

He nodded. “About five years ago I was part of the undercover team assigned to protect the Montreaux diamonds. Claude, Mrs. Bouvier, her husband, and her daughter were on the scene. So was Maurice LeCoz. Hell, everybody in New Orleans high society was there.”

“I didn’t know the Montreaux diamonds had been stolen.”

“They weren’t. We caught the thief. It was a pretty confusing case, and the Montreaux family decided to keep it quiet. That was the first time Peter and I ever talked about opening our own agency. I didn’t like risking my life to protect a bunch of rocks. I wanted to help people.” He sighed dispiritedly. “I wanted to be a good guy.”

She wanted to touch him, to hold him and kiss him, but she knew they had to finish this conversation. “So that was how Maurice LeCoz knew you. But why did he come to you and Peter personally, instead of going to the big agency you used to work for?”

“He said that the fewer people who knew about it, the better.” Nick said gloomily, “I only realized later on exactly what he meant by that.”

“And you took the case.”

“Yes. And finding Mrs. LeCoz was a piece of work. She had covered her tracks pretty well for an amateur. She
really
didn’t want to be found. I was handling the case alone, for the most part. Until this LeCoz mess, business had been booming at the agency, and we were getting ready to hire more staff.”

“So what happened when you found her?”

“She was with a guy, all right, in some dive up in Baton Rouge.”

“Was she safe?”

“Yes. That was the problem.”

Diana frowned. “I don’t understand.”

Nick leaned on one elbow and looked out the window, remembering his own shock at the discovery. “This guy she was with wasn’t the slimy swindler LeCoz had led me to expect. He wasn’t even a gigolo or a good-looking hustler. In fact, he was soft-spoken, shy, and very attentive to Mrs. LeCoz. And she looked at me like I was a demon sent to drag her back into hell.”