Authors: Monica McCabe
She stepped up beside him and grabbed his arm, turning him to face her.
“You know what I worry about?” The darkness hid her expressive eyes, but he could hear her frustration clearly. “You play like you have nothing to lose with your single-minded focus of bringing down the bad guys. You deny yourself help and refuse to see a bigger picture. Can’t you understand that sometimes you need to look beyond your own motivation? That what stands in the way of achieving your goal isn’t worth sacrificing?”
“What about my parents?” he argued vehemently. “Were they worth sacrificing? The man that killed them is within my grasp, and you can damn well bet I’m taking him down.”
“And I’m going to be right there with you, keeping Katanga out of the aftermath.”
“No!” He grabbed her by the arms, fighting an urge to shake sense into her. “You’re going to stay safe and out of harm’s way. Even if I have to lock you up to do it.”
“Who’s going to keep you safe?” she asked quietly and reached up to brush the side of his bruised face with her palm.
The gesture felt suspiciously like comfort. Something he hadn’t known in an eternity. Something he didn’t need right now.
“Miranda, don’t.”
“Don’t what?” she whispered. “Don’t worry?” Her hands traced his shoulders, kneading aching muscle before stroking their way down his biceps. “Don’t touch?”
“Don’t make me do something you might regret.”
“Like what?”
“Like kiss you.”
Silence stretched for a matter of heartbeats. Until she used a fingertip to trace his lower lip. “Kiss me, how?”
She moistened slightly parted lips with the tip of her tongue, and he struggled to remain detached. He closed his eyes against her subtle invitation and suddenly found himself engulfed in her arms. But when she nuzzled her nose against his neck and gently nipped his skin with her teeth, anger dissipated, and he held out no longer.
He pulled the seductress tight against him, breathing deep her fresh scent. When her arms circled his neck, and she pressed intimately against him, he refused to think anymore, merely surrendered to the warmth she offered. A husky sound rumbled deep in his throat, and he became the aggressor, pushing her up against the Rover and kissing her like a man drowning.
She accepted the change, responded with a matching fire that sent him spiraling into a vortex of want and need. All pain was forgotten as her lips molded to his, opened for him, and he slid his tongue inside to explore. He challenged her with his kiss, left no room for doubt where he intended this to end.
Far from backing down, she clutched his shirt in her fists and demanded more.
His pulse pounded and the world narrowed to only her, to the rapidly building friction between them. He snared one of her soft thighs between his, didn’t even try to remain gentle as he rubbed his growing arousal against her.
She welcomed the move by shifting to make the touch stronger, more intimate, and his swollen ridge nested at the core of her softly rocking hips.
It pushed him to the breaking point. He bent her backward over the warm hood, one hand capturing her arms above her head and the other indulging in his need to touch her, to explore her body with the same thoroughness he had her mouth just moments before. He brushed her hair off her face, trailing his fingers behind her ear, down her throat, across a breast, and down to the soft muscle of her thigh.
That same muscle tensed as he slid his hand beneath the fabric of her shorts, his thumb kneading and inching closer to where he knew she pulsed with fire. When his hand brushed against her sensitive core, her breathing joined his on the jagged side.
Still, he continued the slow torture by pushing her blouse upward until a lacy, front-clasp bra stared back at him. He covered a lovely rounded breast with his palm, and when she arched into his hand with a moan of pleasure he lowered his head to nibble, to lick her skin at the lace’s edge. Her soft whimpers invited more, and with a quick snap of his fingers, he released the garment’s front catch, baring her breasts for his touch.
They were as beautiful as the rest of her, full and round, with hardened peaks begging to be fondled. He cupped each, one at a time, kneading and caressing, capturing one in his mouth to taste and tease.
She moaned deep within and tugged against the hand holding her arms captive above her head. He gave her the freedom she asked for and slid a hand around the back of her neck, pulling her up to his lips. She immediately took advantage, touching him, kissing him. His world narrowed to only her, to an overwhelming need to escape into the warmth she offered.
When her hands stripped him of his shirt, he pushed hers from her shoulders and grabbed both to make a bed on the grass. He tumbled her down on top, half covering her body with his own, and her softness both cushioned and welcomed him. He captured her lips again and kissed her with a thoroughness that left them both gasping for air. When he could take no more, his hips ground into hers. She fumbled for his belt, tugging it loose and unclasping his jeans.
He rolled over long enough to shed the pants and rolled back, lower, so his lips were level with her belly button. He nuzzled and nipped at the tender flesh there, and his fingers unzipped her khaki shorts to slide them over her hips. He tossed them aside and settled back between her legs, staring at the delicious lacy barrier of her panties. She was near panting when his fingers slid under their edge, tugging them down to reveal her soft, moist center.
It was nearly his undoing. He desperately needed to be inside her, to feel her legs wrap around him in welcoming splendor. He slid up her body to fit himself at her entrance and tried to slowly fill her, to rock his way inside by glorious agonizing inches.
She growled with impatience, taking him in greedily, and wrapped her fabulous legs around him. “Now,” she breathed against his lips. “All of you, now!”
He needed no further urging and complied with one hard thrust. She arched her back on a gasp and squeezed her muscles around him, sending him waves of pleasure so fantastic, he nearly lost his mind. He fought for control, vowing to make her just as crazy with wanting him.
He began gently rocking, wanting to feel every part of her, but she wouldn’t wait. Her legs tightened as she moved beneath him, coaxing a rhythm as old as time. He gave her what she demanded and drove into her hard, fast, and deep. Her passionate cries soon pushed him beyond rational thought as intense pleasure consumed him.
Oblivion circled, growing to a fever pitch. Suddenly, she tensed and cried out his name, just as his control exploded with a pleasure so intense, his world shifted on its axis.
Nothing would ever be the same again.
Matt pounded on his boss’s front door again, harder this time, more insistent. “Open the damn door, Nik!”
Finally, he could hear bolts sliding home on three different locks. Nik wrenched open the door and glared at him. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”
“It’s one-thirty in the morning, and I’ve been knocking my knuckles blue. How can you possibly sleep that heavy?” Matt said as he pushed his way inside. “What’ve you got to drink?”
“I sleep heavy because I have a clear conscience. And there are plenty of bars to choose from in this town. Why bother me?”
“A lot of reasons. Women for starters.”
Nik sighed heavily and shook his head. “Tell me you did not wake me just to complain about a female.”
“As maddening as they are, we have bigger problems. A foul smell is developing, and it grows stronger the closer we get to Diamond Council.”
That got Nik’s full attention. Serious didn’t begin to cover that threat. Security around the National Assembly building had been tight for the past month, but preparations for an international conference of critical importance required absolute control. Any hint of trouble was cause for major concern.
“Follow me,” Nik said and led Matt to the kitchen. He pulled a beer from the fridge and handed it over.
Matt shook his head. “Got anything stronger?”
Nik peered closer at him, taking in Matt’s busted knuckles and torn shirt. Tell-tale signs that he’d been in a fight were clear to see. Nik stuffed the beer back in the fridge. He reached for his coveted bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey instead, an import that was hard to get and pricey, but the situation called for it.
He poured a heavy shot and slid it across the counter. “Tell me what happened.”
“Miranda overheard a conversation regarding weapon shipments.” Matt downed the liquor in one gulp and began pacing. “They said a sample would be at Glory Hill tonight.”
“Glory Hill? Why does that sound familiar?”
“Andrew Weston lives there.”
Nik shook his head. “So he’s involved.”
“Up to his neck.”
This was the kind of news that drove a man to drink. Nik grabbed another glass and pulled out a chair at the kitchen table. He plopped down and poured himself a liberal shot.
Matt joined Nik and slid his glass over for a refill. “Weapon shipments are moving through town and Graham may be working both ends.”
“What makes you think that?” Nik downed his whiskey, then set the empty back on the table.
“I spent tonight lurking outside the library windows at Glory Hill.” Matt’s voice had taken on an angry tone. “I saw weapons and diamonds, Graham and Weston, all conspiring together in the same room.”
Matt knew he was on edge. He’d always kept it together, even during the worst of investigations. But that was before tonight, before Miranda risked her life to help him. Before the past caught up to him and escalated the danger. It drastically changed the game plan, and he needed to think, to figure out his next move.
“What else?” Nik asked.
Nik might have appeared calm, but his friend was the head of IDS. He’d demand every detail, needed to know the threats his department faced. He also deserved to know the truth.
“There was another man present, a weapons buyer.” Matt started pacing again. “A man of importance by the way they deferred to him. This one looked deadly, not someone to cross. Which of course means I plan on doing just that.”
“Don’t let this get personal, Matthew. Get a handle on whatever is under your skin.”
Matt stared at the amber liquid in his glass, then downed it in one shot. Now would be a good time to confess the past to Nik. Except he couldn’t bring himself to face that reality. Not yet. He needed more time. He slammed the glass back to the table. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll get the job done.”
“So we have knowledge of a major weapons movement during council week,”—Nik leaned back in his chair under the weight of Matt’s revelations—“a politician involved with a major arms dealer, and the pride of Gaborone smuggling blood diamonds out of the country.”
“That about sums it up.”
Nik grabbed the whiskey and poured another shot. “You really know how to ruin a good night’s sleep for a guy.”
Matt settled back at the table, and Nik pointed toward Matt’s abused knuckles. “Want to share that story?”
He shrugged. “It’s nothing. A few bruises compliments of two baboons that found me eavesdropping. They broke up the party with their fists. If it wasn’t for Miranda braining one with a pipe, I’d likely be in worse condition.”
“Miranda? I thought you were keeping her out of this.”
“I’ve discovered she doesn’t convince easy.” Matt raked a hand through his hair and pulled away bits of dried grass.
“May I remind you that I have no wish to explain to American authorities how one of their citizens ends up hurt, or dead, while visiting Botswana? Nor do I want to air our political troubles in black-market trafficking. Double that in light of the coming event.”
Matt sighed and refilled his shot glass. “Tonight we had a blowout argument on that very subject. Once that woman’s mind is made up, I doubt a bull elephant could budge it.”
“Ah, so now we reach the source of your complaint against the fairer sex.”
“She is the most stubborn, mule headed”—Matt tossed back another whiskey and slapped the empty glass on the table—“
desirable
female I’ve ever met.”
“How alarming.”
“I’ll say.”
“I mean, from my perspective, a meddling tourist, no matter how attractive, can cause immeasurable harm. Her fascination may rob your focus. And if what you claim is true, I need you one hundred percent.”
Matt stared him hard in the eye. “Don’t worry. You have it.”
Nik’s expression said he didn’t believe him. “Something eats at you, my friend. I’ve known this for a long time. You are a good agent, one of the best. But tonight…you appear rattled. Distracted. Anything else you should tell me?”
Yes. No. Matt propped his elbows on the table and dropped his head into his hands, using his thumbs to rub against his temples as though they ached. “It’s been a long night, Nik. I’m tired.”
A few heartbeats of silence filled the room; then Nik rose from the table and put his coveted liquor bottle back in its cabinet. “Go home, Matthew. We shall talk again later.”
“Thanks for the whiskey.” Matt rose and headed out the kitchen, but turned at the door. “There’s a bar in town called Half Jacks. Heard anything about it?”
“A little. Why?”
“Nothing, yet. Graham paid them a visit before heading to Weston’s. And by the way, did you discover anything on the list of delivery companies Miranda supplied?”
“They all appear legitimate. All had proper permits and civil records in order. I did narrow it down to two possibilities, however. Panjami and Kyalo. They had subtle discrepancies. Nothing to incriminate or raise suspicions, just…different.”
“Thanks.” Matt yawned. “I’ll check them out.”
“Get some rest, Matthew. I have a feeling you are going need it.”
Miranda rose early and arrived at Katanga before seven the next morning. She’d spent a restless night, though whether from worry they’d been captured on camera or the aftereffects of Matt’s lovemaking, she couldn’t tell. Both left her feeling shaken and unnerved.
From the moment Matt dropped her off at the lodge, doubts had begun. She didn’t regret the intimacy. How could she? Pain engulfed him, swallowed him whole. And it wasn’t just from the beating he’d taken. Matt struggled against the soul-deep horror of his past. She couldn’t bear to see it. Reacting on instinct, she’d reached out to comfort him.