Keeping Watch: Heart of the Night\Accidental Bodyguard (53 page)

He reached for her then. Pulled her down to his chest. Kissed her wildly. Frantically. Thoroughly.

His hands were on her, skimming her here, squeezing her there. Gentle. Powerful.

They stripped each other of their remaining clothes and then he was on top of her. Stretching her. Filling her. Bringing her to the brink of ecstasy.

It was a trading of comforts, an easing of two raw souls who had exposed their darkest secrets and survived. It was the wildest, most intense ride of her life.

“I want…I need…you….” he whispered between pants, dropping each word like a humble praise against her ear.

When he covered her mouth with his and plunged in for his final release, Faith hugged him close, with her arms and her legs and her heart. And she followed him over the edge into paradise.

J
ONAS
B
ECK
loved mornings.

He loved this one, at any rate.

The sun had been up a good hour by now. He’d watched a bright sliver of changing colors filter into the motel room through the crack between the curtain and window. A sunrise. Certainly not the best view of one, but he’d watched a sunrise.

Of course, waking up with a soft, pretty—naked—woman in his arms had gone a long way toward improving his morning disposition.

With his back propped up on the pillows, he looked down in awe at the utter trust and contentment on Faith’s sweet face. She lay draped across his chest, with the long, smooth line of her back exposed down to her waist. Her skin looked as fair as a storybook princess’s against his darker tan. Her luscious breasts were flattened against him, and her moist heat was clenched around the top of his thigh beside his body’s stirring interest in the sight and scent and feel of her. It was a completely vulnerable position. And he was humbled in the presence of the gifts she had given him.

Her body. Her trust. Her anger for his hurts. Her love of mornings. Her generous spirit.

She made him feel like a man. Not a cursed beast. She seemed to see something in him that he himself had forgotten long ago.

He hadn’t made love to a woman since… Hell, he’d had sex before, but he’d never made love. Not like that. Not with a woman whose eyes were wide-open. She’d touched him and kissed him and teased him and offered herself without fear.

And he loved her for it.

Hell. There was a cruel trick for the fates to play on him. To drop this woman on his doorstep and let her get beneath his tough hide and awaken his heart. Because this fairy tale would soon play itself out. He’d turn Faith and the disk safely over to George Murphy and he’d go back to his home in the mountains. There’d be no future for them, only now.

Faith was sixteen years his junior. She was intelligent, pretty, full of life and sass. She could work in the real world and be accepted. She deserved the chance to find a man who wasn’t so used up, a man who could give her more than he ever could.

He had no doubt she’d do something crazy like try to stay with him for a while because she felt she owed him something. Her persnickety sense of justice and fair play would keep her at his side, even if life passed her by. But he wouldn’t let that happen. He’d enjoy the now. Treasure it. And after she was gone, he’d always remember her precious gift—that for a few days out of time, Jonas Beck was no longer the devil. He wasn’t any behind-the-scenes hero. He was just a man.

“Mmm.” Every nerve ending in his body shot to life as Faith stretched along the length of him, rousing herself from sleep. “What time is it?”

This was the real test. To see if what she’d made love to in the middle of the night was still appealing in the bright light of day. He stroked the crown of her coppery hair. “It’s after eight-thirty. You’re a regular slug-a-bug today.”

She raised her head and struggled to blink her eyes open. “I guess great sex makes me sleepy.” Her green eyes popped open wide and her hand flew to her mouth as her body suddenly stiffened. “Oh, my God. Did I say that out loud?”

Jonas laughed. A deep, resonant sound unfamiliar to his own ears. But it didn’t hurt. “Yes, you did, sunshine. But I’ll take it as a compliment.”

She swatted a hand at his chest. “That’s not very gallant. It takes two, you know.”

“I know.” His laughter faded. He looked deep into her eyes. “Thank you. For everything last night.”

Her crooked mouth eased into a beautiful smile. “You’re welcome.”

He eased his palms along her back and reached beneath the covers to grab a handful of her beautiful bottom. He pulled and she crawled and he tilted his head to capture her mouth in a rich, languorous, life-affirming kiss.

And it started all over again. Her eager palms skimming his flanks, her fingertips digging into the muscles of his chest. Her tongue mating with his. Those soft, mewing sounds she made deep in her throat.

She nipped her teeth around a flat male nipple and he jolted at the sensation. She squeezed his butt and ruffled his hair and kissed him along a line down the center of his chest to his navel. He was beyond feeling now. He was floating. He was flying.

The little witch was seducing
him.
Making love to
him.

When her lips would have moved lower, Jonas could stand no more. He lifted her up and rolled her onto her back. Her arms curled around his neck as he nudged her apart with his knee. But at the moment he would have entered her, he hesitated. He threw his head back and fought for the control that had seen him through so many lonely years.

“Jonas…what…?” She was breathing hard.

So was he. He braced himself above her. “Last night…I didn’t…hurt you?” He brushed his fingers across her mouth. “I should have asked. I couldn’t…forgive myself…I won’t…if…”

She kissed each finger, sucked the last one in between her lips. His body lurched in mimicking response. “You didn’t hurt me. I loved it. I…”

Her voice trailed away and her hand took over, closing around him, speaking to him of matching need and desire. Helpless in the face of everything she meant to him, Jonas could no longer resist. She guided him into her and set the pace toward their joint completion.

It was the truest acceptance he had ever known.

T
HERE WAS NOTHING
soft about the sun at eleven. And though he’d gladly volunteer to spend the rest of his life in bed with Faith—making love and holding her and sleeping—Jonas knew the clock was ticking. Reality would set upon them soon enough.

To that end, he flipped off the covers and swung his feet off the edge of the bed. He rolled his neck and stretched and tried to focus his mind on the road ahead of them.

Faith lay on her stomach in the middle of the bed. He leaned over and kissed the swell of her bottom, then gave it a playful spank as he stood. “Time to rise and shine, honey.”

She reached for a pillow and plopped it over her head. “You exhaust me, man.”

He grinned at the compliment. But she wasn’t the only one whose body was sated by their blissful morning. Still, he’d never let her be hurt in any way. By him or anyone else. And that meant they needed to hit the road and get to the airport. “We have to check out by noon.”

“Just five minutes to rest. Please?”

He’d never be able to resist that word, not when it came from those lips. “All right. I’ll jump into the shower first, and then you can get ready. But we can’t hang out here too much longer.”

“I know.” With her face buried in the pillow she waved him away. “Places to go, people to see.”

Worlds to save. A killer to find. A woman to let go.

Jonas stepped into the shower and let the brisk spikes of water pound against his chest. He’d found peace for the moment, but salvation would be a long time coming.

“T
HIS IS GETTING
tiresome.”

The shorter of the two figures wearing sleek, sophisticated suits paced off the length of the marbled hallway, then returned to the computer lab with a winsome smile for the security guard who should have retired before last night. “You’re sure this is the woman you saw?”

The guard took the photograph and studied it. “That’s her. Her hair was red, but it’s the same girl. She and the big guy who knocked me out ran out of here about 11:20, 11:25. By eleven-thirty, I’d called the cops to report them. I don’t think they took anything. I thought they were just in here foolin’ around. What’s this about?”

About thirty million dollars, you fool.
If Faith had accessed these high-tech computers, then she knew what it was they were after now. Their simple pawn had become their greatest liability. The guard returned Faith Monroe’s picture and the short one in the suit pasted on a smile. “Thank you for your cooperation, sir. We’ll call you if we need anything more.”

“You bet.” The old buzzard doffed them a salute. “Have a nice day.”

“Thank you.”

They were out in the parking lot, climbing into their rented car before the tall one said a word. “Old Grandpa in there can ID us now. You want me to take him out?”

The short one grinned. “I think you enjoy your work too much. No, Grandpa thinks we’re with the FBI and that we have everything under control. I don’t think he’ll give us another thought. Besides, we’re running out of time.”

“But he let them get away. Just like Prince—”

“Sheriff Prince was different. We paid him good money to keep Faith Monroe in town until we could establish your cover there. He failed. Knowing any part of my plan made him a liability.” This all made logical sense. “No one else besides the guard knows that Miss Monroe and her bodyguard boyfriend were here in Laramie. There’d be no one to divert suspicion onto if we killed him.”

The tall one’s fist tightened around the wheel. “You should have let me run her down when I had the chance. Saved us a lot of trouble. We could be making the deal with the Central Americans by now.”

“Smush her on the road and risk destroying the disk? She might have had it on her. We hadn’t had time to search the car or her belongings.” The short one offered a teasing grin. “Besides, I didn’t think that was your style. I thought you were more of a hands-on man.”

The tall one didn’t normally lose his cool, but he was starting to simmer. “That guy she’s with—Jonas Beck—I don’t know who he is, but he knows his stuff. That bogus campsite in the Tetons delayed us a full day. We wouldn’t have picked up the trail here if Grandpa hadn’t reported them to the cops instead of keeping it a campus security matter.” He skimmed his hand across the top of his head and calmed himself. “I like things neat and tidy. This has gone on too long. We’ve lost our advantage.”

The short one bristled in the passenger seat. “You’re not thinking of defying my orders, are you?”

“This project should have been wrapped up twelve years ago. Before Jack Monroe developed a conscience and destroyed the NT-6 prototype and blueprints.” His big fist looked as if it might snap the steering wheel in two. “And when you found out Monroe had given Rutherford the disk, we should have struck then, not waited all those months for Monroe’s daughter to get involved. When it gets personal, it gets messy.”

“This project will be wrapped up when I say it is. The Frye name is at stake here. If we want this business to continue, then we have to establish that our reputation is as well earned as ever. That we can produce the weapons and technology to meet the market’s demands.” The flat, eastern Wyoming horizon blurred before the short one’s eyes. But tears were not an option. Not anymore. “Faith Monroe and her family took something from me. William Rutherford tried to keep it from me. That little hick from the sticks is going to pay for all the trouble they’ve caused me.”

The tall man sensed the loss of control, the emotional overload that would make him question the abilities of the leader he followed. “But how are we going to stop her if we can’t find her? I know you have men watching the major transportation centers in the region, but we can’t just take a chance they’ll show up somewhere.”

The short one didn’t like leaving things to chance, either. “It’s simple, really. She has something I want. Let’s get something
she
wants.” The short one breathed in deeply, feeling the well-planned—and profitable—retribution falling back into place once more. “Then let her come to us.”

F
AITH SAT UP
in the empty bed and reached for the first piece of clothing she could find. Jonas’s denim shirt.

Smiling contentedly at what it meant to have their clothes strewn around the bed and floor, she slipped her arms into the long sleeves and fastened a couple of strategic buttons. She caught the collar up around her nose and inhaled the musky scent that was uniquely Jonas’s. Heaven. The scent and softness of the oversize shirt reminded her of her night and morning spent in his arms.

He was a powerful lover—honest, intense—nothing fancy—very direct. He’d never left her in any doubt that he wanted
her,
that he found her sexy and desirable. And that she had fulfilled his every need as well. His fears that he had hurt her were unfounded. He’d been passionate, yes, but amazingly tender. She’d been just as eager with him—seeking out his strength, the arousing touch of his hands, his soul-deep kisses. And though her muscles ached from the exertion of seducing and being seduced, and being seduced again, it was a pleasant ache. That of a body unused to making love, not a body used.

Heeding Jonas’s warning about the time, she tiptoed over to the desk and opened her purse to start getting ready. While he was using the shower, she pulled out her comb and looked at herself in the mirror. The copper hair didn’t seem to fit. Tangled by sleep and Jonas’s greedy hands, the strands stood out in wild disarray. But as she combed the waves into order, she realized she still looked different. Something around the eyes, maybe. Less frightened. More mature. Curiously confident.

And while he’d given her such pleasure over and over again, Faith knew they had connected on a much deeper, emotional level. A man couldn’t hold her so gently, nor whisper such beautiful things to her, nor love her so well unless he had a heart. Unless he cared.

She’d unlocked the man within the beast.