Code Name: Baby (21 page)

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Authors: Christina Skye

BOOK: Code Name: Baby
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Wolfe hated the jerk already.

Without warning she twisted again. Her head slid onto his thigh, her breath warm and damp through his worn jeans. Closing his eyes, he tried to forget that her lips were inches from his straining zipper.

He opened the top snap of his jeans and forced himself to relax, drawing upon all the control he possessed. Bush firefights and predawn raids hadn't gotten to him. Neither would this. By sheer force of will he put himself in a different place, cut off from both pain and pleasure, running over a black sand beach beneath a quarter moon.

Better.

His breathing slowed. Once his control returned, he felt a wave of relief. He wasn't losing his edge after all.

Kit muttered sleepily. Her nails dug into his thighs.

“Easy, honey.” He moved her searching fingers away from his legs and out of the danger zone, but she pulled free, caught in bad dreams.

Her fist hit his jaw. Then her elbow slammed into his thigh. Wolfe had no choice but to lift her against his chest to calm her struggles. As he held her still, he tried not to notice the way her nightshirt climbed up to her waist.

Her eyes snapped open, dazed with sleep.
“What?”
she snapped.

“Not a thing. You were dreaming.”

Her body froze. “It's really you, not a dream?”

He smiled tightly. “I guess that depends on what kind of dream you were having.”

She closed her eyes, and he saw her sudden flush. She turned her face into his bare chest and stretched sleepily. “You're sure the dogs have enough water?”

“All systems go.”

She smiled against his chest. “Want an energetic but
very
low-paying job?”

“Already got one. Uncle Sam would probably take a dim view of me moonlighting.”

“Yeah, but what does the government know?”

Everything,
he thought wryly. Through his imbedded chips he was tracked constantly. Even his heart rate and blood chemistry were monitored 24/7.

And knowing Ryker, there might be more bio-sensors implanted that Wolfe hadn't been told about yet.

He had a sudden, arresting image of three scientists in white coats monitoring his conversations, maybe even using some kind of remote technology to view his life in real time via a tiny camera.

No, that can't be possible.

There was a muffled chime between their bodies, and Kit grimaced. “Gotta take my pills. In my purse—”

He reached deftly to the end table. “Right here. Give me a minute and I'll get you some water.”

 

H
E WAS GONE
for what seemed like forever.

Still groggy, Kit pushed to one elbow, peering into the shadows beyond the firelight.

Feeling jumpy. Just on the edge of frightened.

“Wolfe?”

There was no answer.

She was wide awake now, her hip starting to ache. She didn't want to think about her clumsiness or the bruises from her fall in the shower. She
really
hated the idea that Wolfe had found her there on the floor like a klutz. A stark naked klutz, no less.

She dragged a hand through her hair. She probably looked like hell. Her nightshirt kept climbing up, too. She wondered how much he'd seen before he left.

She tried to finger comb her hair and gave up. How she looked didn't matter because
nothing
was going to happen. She wasn't going to discuss her medical problems with him either. This was her situation, not his. He had his own worries to deal with right now.

She sat up slowly, rubbing her face. Hadn't she offered to sleep on the floor? How in heaven had she ended up draped across his naked chest?

“Here's your water.”

Wolfe returned, standing right in front of her. She didn't see the glass of water he was holding out. She didn't see her pills or anything else in his hands.

Her gaze arrowed straight toward his chest and the sculpted muscles of his abs. Gorgeous.

She looked lower.

His top button was open, well-worn jeans riding low at his trim hips. Right now they were pulled tight over an unmistakable erection.

Wow,
Kit thought. How had she slept through a sight like that? She forced her gaze back to his face and met his cool, unblinking stare.

“See something interesting?”

“No. That is—I wasn't paying attention.” She looked away, desperate to hide the flush she could feel crossing her cheeks. “I was thinking about something else.”

“Is that a fact?” His tone was very dry. “Like what?”

“Um—I was thinking about Diesel,” she said quickly. “And then I remembered it's my birthday tomorrow.”

The glint in Wolfe's eyes told her that he wasn't buying her hasty explanation for a second, but he didn't say anything else, shaking two pills onto his hand.

“Thanks.” She avoided his eyes. “For talking. For letting me sleep on the couch.”
Draped all over your warm chest.
“For taking care of the dogs, too.”

“My pleasure. They're quite a handful.” After Kit took her pills, he leaned down to scratch Baby's head. “Damned smart, all of them.”

“You noticed that, did you?” She stifled a yawn. “I know I'm biased, but they seem to get smarter every day.” She saw a muscle tighten at Wolfe's jaw. “You think that's weird?”

“Not really. So how come you forgot your own birthday?”

Kit pulled the blanket over her legs. “It's no big deal. I never do much anyway.”

He took her face gently between his big hands. “It should be a big deal. You should get dressed up in something tight and black, then go dancing all night long.”

She swallowed hard. The pressure of his hands made her stomach turn flip-flops. “Are you offering to take me?”

Something moved in his eyes. She felt his hands tighten.

Then he stood up, his face a mask. “I wish I could. But neither of us has any dance time in our immediate future. Whoever came after the Jeep on that deserted road could decide to come back.”

Kit stared at him, trying to take in his sharp change of mood. “So I'm stuck here with you? Like some kind of prisoner?” Her voice tightened.

“For the moment, yes. It will be safer. I'm sorry, Kit.”

She settled back on the sofa, studying his body. The muscles in his arms bunched as he leaned down to put her pills on the side table. Light brushed the hair scattered over his amazing chest.

She had to work not to drool.

The captive part was A-okay with her. Maybe she should reconsider Miki's plan, too. When would she ever have another shot at her top birthday gift, namely a night of wild sex in Wolfe's bed?

She took a slow breath. “So we're stuck here together? All night? That's very cool.”

His brow rose. “You don't mind?”

Mind being held hostage by the man she'd lusted after secretly ever since she was thirteen? Mind seeing that hard body at seriously close range?

What part was she supposed to
mind?

She managed to make her voice light. “I'll survive.”

“So what
do
you want for your birthday?”

Kit stared into his dark eyes. Hot, sweaty sex in front of the fire came to mind. She cleared her throat. “Miki says I need La Perla and Manolo Blahnik.”

“Ma-no-
what?

“Just stuff, Houston. Expensive but gorgeous. Never mind, you wouldn't follow.” She blinked as he held out a foil-wrapped bar. “What's this?”

“Field rations. You should always have something in your stomach when you take medicine.”

“How did you know that?” Kit was hit by the paralyzing thought that somehow he'd tracked down her medical history and details about the powerful pills she was taking.

“Common sense. That's what doctors tell everyone.” He opened the bar and broke it in half. “Go on, eat it.”

She took a bite and was pleasantly surprised. “Cinnamon brownie. Not half bad, either.” She watched him take a bite. “So what's in these things, steroids or amphetamines? Some kind of secret growth hormone and tissue regenerator?”

He coughed sharply. “What do you mean by—”

“Just a joke. You're so—buff. I mean, your chest.” Probably all the rest of him, too. Kit looked away, frowning. “You should take the couch. It's no problem, because I won't be able to fall asleep again. I never can.”

Drat. Why had she let that last part slip?

She felt the couch shift. His thigh brushed her hip.

Her breath piled up in her chest as he slid an arm around her shoulders.

His eyes narrowed, focused entirely on her. He looked irritated and very restless. “What are you thinking about?” she whispered.

“You. About your long legs and soft skin. God help the man who tries to have any willpower around you.”

She heard the edge to his voice. His hand was cradling her neck and his body had gone absolutely still. His eyes moved, fixed on her mouth.

I'm going to do this,
she thought wildly.
I'm going to kiss him and then I'm going to pull off his jeans and see all the rest of him.

It was crazy, but she'd waited long enough.

Her heart hammered as he leaned closer, whispered her name. He traced her mouth slowly with his thumb and her body felt liquid, boneless. She wet her dry lips, wanting to feel his mouth.

A shrill ring cut through the silence.

She sighed in irritation when she realized the sound was coming from her cell phone, shoved inside the pocket of her nightshirt.

Maybe she could ignore it. When the ringing stopped, he would kiss her. With luck he might make love to her for the next forty-eight hours.

Even one hour would be good. She wouldn't be choosy where he was concerned.

“Aren't you going to answer that?”

He didn't sound at all disturbed. In fact, he was smiling faintly as he reached across her and pulled out the cell phone.

Life was simply not fair, she thought angrily. For the first time in her life she had a shot at reckless, sweaty sex with the man of her dreams and her damned cell phone had to go off and ruin everything.

Diesel.
The thought brought her down to earth with a crash and she grabbed the phone. It was three o'clock in the morning. Who else but Liz would call her at
this
hour?

She scanned the incoming caller ID and answered. “Liz, is that you? Is something wrong?”

“I'm glad I got you, Kit. I tried Miki earlier but she said you weren't there. Then I tried the ranch. Where
are
you?”

“I'm not at Miki's. Tonight I—” She stopped as Wolfe shook his head sharply. “I'm staying with a friend,” she finished. “Is something wrong with Diesel?”

The silence stretched out. Through the pounding of her heart, Kit heard papers rustle and a chair creak.

“Diesel's just the same,” Liz said. “He's no worse. I was actually calling because—” A desk chair squeaked again. “I got some unusual blood work back a few minutes ago. Diesel's granulocytes are out of sight and the rest of his white count—well, let's just say I've never seen abnormals like this before.”

Kit stared into the air above Wolfe's shoulder, confused. “There's something wrong with his blood tests? You think he might have some deeper condition causing the asthma?”

She felt Wolfe lean closer. She could have sworn that his hand smoothed her hair. Focused on Liz's call, she couldn't be sure.

“At the moment, I don't know what's going on. I'll have to do more tests, maybe check with some people in Albuquerque. But I wanted to speak with you first.”

“I don't know what to say, Liz. He's had asthma attacks before, but otherwise he's always been strong as a horse. The only blood work he's ever had was with you.”

“I see. If you think of anything, give me a call. I'll talk to you in the morning.” Liz laughed dryly. “Except it already
is
morning.”

“Maybe you should get some rest.” Kit watched sparks pop in the fireplace. “You sound exhausted, Liz.”

“Occupational hazard, I'm afraid. I'll call you as soon as Diesel's up and around.”

The line went dead, but Kit didn't move, cradling the phone.

“Something wrong with Diesel?”

“We're not sure. His vet says the blood work is weird.”

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