More Than a Mission (14 page)

R
estlessness kept her awake. A restlessness created by all that had happened in the past few days.

First, that crazy-ass driver on the coast road the other night.

Second, Aidan nearly killing himself in the gym this morning.

And last, but probably highest on the list, her feelings for Aidan, a man about whom she knew so little. A man whom she couldn't figure out. During their picnic the other day, she'd thought they had connected, but this afternoon he'd seemed…angry. Ready to attack. Maybe it had been the blow to the head, because later that night, he was a changed man. Alone and distant.

She had wanted to approach him, see if everything was okay, but it had been impossible thanks to an unusually busy Tuesday night and a party that lingered later than normal. She had hoped he would wait around after his shift, but he hadn't.

Maybe she had misread his interest the other day. Her radar was obviously off, which was to be expected. It had been so long since she'd played this man-woman game. Too long maybe. A reason to stay out of the game, the annoying voice in her head urged, even while she thought: nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Those dueling emotions were the reason for the unsettling feeling that her life had taken an unexpected turn thanks to this man. An unwelcome turn that wouldn't necessarily take her where she wanted to go. Especially since Aidan was just passing through. He had bluntly told her that the day he'd come back, trying to convince her to hire him.

She hadn't made a mistake with the decision to hire him. He had turned out to be a competent bartender. And a most competent kisser.

However, losing control with him had possibly been not such a wise decision.

She suddenly needed to take back the control she considered so necessary. It was what she had done her entire life. First, when her parents had been killed. Next, when Dani had left.

It was what she planned on doing now.

Changing out of her pajamas, she slipped on a pair of black jeans and grabbed the first shirt she laid her hands on—a black tank top sitting atop the clean laundry pile. She didn't bother with a bra. No one would be out on the beach at this hour and besides, she wasn't all that big anyway.

She tied up her hair with the pink scarf once more and slipped down the stairs barefoot, pausing at the door a moment to glance around her living room. She held her breath as she listened for the sounds of someone else, since the hairs on the back of her neck tingled as if she was being watched.

Only the susurrus of the ocean. It called to her and she listened.

 

She was on the move again, Aidan realized from the video feed on his PDA. He had been watching her for at least an hour or more. For the better part of that time, she had been standing by her bedroom window, looking out to sea. One arm wrapped around her midsection while the other hung down at her side. Occasionally she would reach up, rake back her shoulder-length hair or rest her hand at her mouth pensively.

Lizzy was clearly troubled. He wondered if he had even made the list of what she was worried about. He had tried to be distant tonight and it had worked. He had noticed her watching him, possibly interested in approaching, but it had not been possible. Too many restaurant patrons far too late into the night. And he couldn't just hang out and wait for her. It would be too obvious. So he had left. Tuned into the broadcast on his PDA of Elizabeth in her room.

Despite the late hour she'd returned home, Lizzy had obviously not been tired. She puttered around the cottage and then her room. After, she went to the window to stand until she abruptly sprang into action, changing into the black clothes and moving downstairs.

She waited at the door and cautiously looked around.

Aidan stood, yanked on his jacket as he watched her. Did she sense the surveillance? Was her assassin's radar that acute?

When she walked out the door, he rushed out of his room and nearly collided with Lucia.

“I was on my way to get you,” she explained and he held up his PDA.

“I've been monitoring her.”

She shot him a condemning look, apparently convinced that his interest had been anything but work-related.

“It's not what you think,” he defended, even as he grabbed the binoculars and hurried to the windows.

Lucia said nothing, but instead joined him at the windows with her own set of binoculars. “She's headed for the beach again.”

Aidan tracked Elizabeth's flight down the cottage path and along the rocky trail to the shoreline. “I'm going after her,” he said and turned, but as he did so, some other activity on one of the monitors caught his eye.

He raced back to the table, certain he'd seen someone in black in the cellar of Lizzy's restaurant, but when he reached the monitor, nothing. It must have been his imagination.

“I thought you were leaving?” Lucia asked and craned her head over his shoulder while he kept his eyes trained on the feed from the cellar.

“Thought I saw something here.” He pointed to the screen.

Lucia shook her head. “Not possible. We both know the Sparrow's on the beach.”

“Right,” he answered and yet his instinct told him something was off. Straightening, he motioned to the monitor as he hurried toward the door. “Keep an eye on that one,” he said.

Lucia looked from him to the monitor, but, realizing he was serious, she confirmed, “Whatever you say, Blender Boy.”

With a nod, he rushed out the door to chase the elusive Sparrow.

 

The sea at night could be so many things.

On some nights she sat and watched its movement and thought about how big it was. It made her feel insignificant and yet connected to it and the multitude of life deep within. It brought peace when she was troubled, as she was tonight.

On other nights, when a storm would kick up the waves, she would revel in its wildness and energy, imagining that buried within her there was more still to be explored. That she had the strength to do whatever was necessary.

As she walked along the moonlit water's edge tonight, the ocean was relatively calm, although there was the hint of a storm on the breeze blowing into shore. It matched the maelstrom of her emotions, seemingly calm on the outside, but within, restless.

She strolled for a bit further and was almost at the edge of town when she noticed the lone figure coming down one of the public-access ramps to the beach. It was too dark to see the person's face and yet she knew who it was.

Aidan.

Funny how in a few short days he had become familiar enough that she could pick him out even from a distance.

He strolled onto the sand, but then just stood there, staring out to sea, hands tucked into his jeans pockets. Eventually, he plopped down before one small dune to watch the ocean.

She had a choice to make: turn around or keep on walking.

It took her but a moment to make the decision.

“T
he Sparrow's at nine o'clock and approaching slowly,” Lucia advised, but Aidan dared not move. Better not to let her know he was aware of her presence.

Instead, he whispered, “I'm going incommunicado, Red Rover.”

Lucia's response came immediately, but he curtly advised, “I can't think personal knowing you're in my head, over.”

With that, he removed the earpiece, turned it off and stuck it into the back pocket of his jeans. The front one would be too obvious if they got down to doing what he wanted to be doing.

Solely on a business level, he reminded himself.

The sand masked the sound of her approach. When her bright-pink-painted toenails were directly to the left of him, he finally looked up.

She stared at him intently, as if trying to solve a puzzle, before she said, “If I didn't know better, I'd say you were following me.”

Not quite what a normal woman would say, and a reinforcement of his colleagues' suspicions about her true identity. Playing coy, he glanced over his shoulder behind her and then up to the public-access ramp he'd descended to reach the beach. Finally meeting her gaze directly, but with an easy smile on his face, he replied, “Seems to me I'm the one who's sitting near his tiny pay-by-the-night room at the somewhat dubious Leonia Inn, while you, on the other hand, are quite a distance away from your cottage. So, who's following who?”

She chuckled while shaking her head. “Touché.” Without waiting or asking she plopped down next to him and mimicked his stance, knees drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around them. “What are you doing here?”

Playing it cool, he thought, but instead responded, “Watching the moon and stars and the ocean. And now, sitting beside a beautiful woman.”

Snorting inelegantly, she bumped his shoulder with hers. “You are such a liar.”

Pot calling the kettle black. “And you? What are you doing here?”

A long pause followed his question. He was unprepared when she said, “Wondering what it would be like to kiss you again.”

Barely containing his groan, he sneaked a peek at her. Despite her audacious words, she was staring straight ahead, a blush so bright on her cheeks that not even the indistinct light of the moon could hide it.

“Okay, so you're right that I'm a liar,” he said and shifted slightly so that he might face her. As he did so, his butt sank a little deeper into the sand and his knee brushed her side.

She turned so that she might also be able to see him better and studied him intently. “So I'm
not
beautiful?”

Balls. The lady had them in spades and he liked it. Possibly too much. Cradling the side of her face, he ran his thumb along the blush of color. Was it his imagination or was her skin hotter? “That's not what I lied about.”

She arched her perfectly waxed brow upward. It only emphasized her sexy girl-next-door look. “Really? So what—”

He slipped his thumb over her lips, silencing her. “I wasn't just watching the ocean and the stars. I was thinking of how nice it would be to kiss you, too.”

“Liar,” she repeated again, taking him aback.

“Huh?

“You were thinking about doing more than kissing and duh, so was I,” she confessed, took his thumb between her teeth and gave a little love bite.

This time he did groan. When she licked the bite, it was impossible to ignore her offer.

He reached out and scooped her up into his lap, her knees splayed around his waist. He was totally hard and she couldn't fail to notice. He didn't rush it though, letting her get settled in a comfortable position. Bringing his hands to the middle of her back to slowly urge her forward until the tips of her breasts grazed his T-shirt front.

“You know that we might both regret this in the morning?” he tossed out for reflection.

“Possibly.” Behind her words was a big hanging question. So he asked it, “But?”

“We might regret not doing it more.”

The time for action was there. Right before him. Literally in his lap. It's what he had wanted—to break past the Sparrow's barriers.

And if she's not the Sparrow? the voice of his conscience warned.

“Lizzy—and I can call you Lizzy considering where this is likely to lead, can't I?”

Was he testing her or giving her one last out? Impossible to tell or at least that's what she told herself. That made it easier to push away her common sense and give into the desire she had been feeling since the other day. The desire that had given her the strength to brave taking a chance.

“Lizzy. I like the way it sounds coming from you,” she confessed.

“Lizzy,” he repeated and leaned forward, nuzzling her nose with his since in this position, they were face to face. “I want to take this slow, Lizzy.”

His voice was soft and low. Slightly rough with want. His bedroom voice, only she didn't think she could wait to get to a bedroom. Returning the caress and shifting forward, she whispered in his ear, “How slow, Aidan?”

His breath hitched for a moment and she tugged on his earlobe with her teeth. “Aidan?”

He urged her the last little distance, licked the edge of her earlobe. “I want to touch you,” he said, but made no motion to do so.

Her nipple was already hard and she wanted what he wanted. Wanted the promise in his voice. Nuzzling the side of his face with her nose, she brushed a kiss against his cheek. Against her lips, his beard was rough with evening growth.

She cupped the hard muscle of his chest and grasped his nipple between her thumb and forefinger. “I want you to do this,” she admitted as she caressed him through the insubstantial fabric of his T-shirt.

His harsh exhalation was warm against the side of her face. He said nothing, only complied with her request, bringing up both his hands and rolling the taut nubs of her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.

A sharp mew of pleasure escaped her. She kissed the side of his face again and shifted her hand downward to his side where she eased it beneath his jacket and ran it up and down along his lean muscled flank. Needing more, she pulled his T-shirt out of his pants and slipped her hand beneath the edge of his shirt.

His skin was warm. Smooth. She imagined what it would feel like against her. Wanted it. Soon.

She worked her mouth to the edge of his lips, traced their outline before kissing him again.

He opened his mouth against hers, apparently as hungry as she for a greater intimacy. She granted it to him, opening her mouth and meeting his tongue with her own. Sucking and biting until there was a tight ball of need inside her from his hands caressing her, a little more roughly now, and the feel of his tongue making love to her mouth.

When she broke away from him, they were both breathing heavily. Their bodies trembled as they strained toward one another.

“Aidan?” she half asked as she cradled his head in her hands and lovingly kissed the side of his face. The side he had injured that morning.

He must have misread her actions since he said, “Do you want to stop?”

She chuckled sexily and dropped a quick kiss on his lips. “No. I want to go somewhere more…private.”

He looked back at the public beach ramp, chagrin on his face. “My place—”

“Let's go back to the cottage,” she offered and he nodded, smiled.

Somehow they untangled themselves and rose. He took her hand and they started walking, but somehow, it wasn't quick enough for the need pulling at her. Shooting him a half glance, she said, “Race you back?”

A boyish grin erupted on his face, his teeth white against his tanned skin. “And the prize is?”

It took her only a second to consider what she wanted and to answer. “Winner gets to be on top.”

With that, she dropped his hand and took off down the beach.

 

Lizzy broke into a run, her long legs quickly eating up ground. He could have watched her run, the elegance and fluidity of it, but he was much too competitive to just let her win the challenge.

He dashed after her, trying to make up the ground that he had lost, although it did occur to him that even if he did lose it would still be a pleasurable experience. Lizzy on top, he thought, and stumbled for a moment.

Dashing that thought from his mind because it was too distracting and the blood was shifting to places that weren't conducive to speed, he slowly closed the gap between them as Lizzy kicked up the sand before him.

He reached the cottage just paces behind her. Heard Lizzy's delighted laughter at the door as she said, “I win.”

“Why don't I feel like I lost?” he said, his voice tinged with humor and sex because all he could think about was making love with her.

Lizzy shot him a suddenly shy smile, but threw the door open and backpedaled into the room, all the time motioning to him that he should follow.

He did and plastered himself to her as they paused for just a moment in their headlong flight toward what he hoped was Lizzy's bedroom.

As she gazed up at him, there was a look in her eyes that said she truly cared for him.

Normally he would have banked money on knowing that look was real.

But lately, and particularly around Lizzy, he no longer could be certain. His gut, however, was telling him that nothing wrong was going on right now. That he should have no fear. No concern.

He hoped it was right.