Pearl Cove (13 page)

Id like a baby, Hannah, but only if its what you want, too, Her eyes widened. The thought
of having a baby had knocked her breath away, leaving her gasping. I Im not I havent
seven years

Archer wasnt surprised that she had no handy means of birth control. Everything Kyle had
discovered suggested that she hadnt taken lovers. That was why she felt so tight when he
pushed his finger into her sweet, hot center. So soft and yet so strong, so supple. She
could take all of him and they both would know only a blinding pleasure. Your call, he
said huskily.

But he couldnt help probing between her legs once more, tempting her with what she didnt
yet have. The hot, helpless rush of her response spilled over his hand. He gritted his
teeth against a groan of need. Her hidden flesh clenched rhythmically around his finger.
The sultry rain of her pleasure licked over him again, this time kissing the broad, bare
head of his erection.

He stopped breathing.

Hannah? he said thickly.

Dont worry pleasure arced through her, making her rigid, shattering her voice about a
baby. I dont expect Oh, God, take me.

His thumb moved, two fingers probed deeply, and the tension coiled inside her burst.
Shaking, making broken sounds that could have been his name, she clung to him while waves
of violent pleasure convulsed her.

Watching her through narrowed eyes, Archer smiled despite the sexual heat that sent sweat
sliding down his spine. He wasnt inside her, but he was so close that her climax kissed
his penis with hot, teasing pulses. All that kept him from pushing her against the wall
and taking her was a need he had just discovered. He wanted to see her eyes while he
buried himself inside her, to watch them widen and then go hazy with pleasure when she
discovered just how good it felt when they were completely locked together.

Put your legs around my waist.

Hannah hardly recognized the rough voice as Archers, but she tightened her arms around his
neck and drew herself up his body. She couldnt have done it without the strength of his
arms supporting her, his big hands lifting and spreading her legs until she could cross
her ankles behind his waist. The hard, smooth head of his erection nuzzled against her
undefended core. She was entirely open to him, entirely vulnerable....

And she smiled. She had been helpless in his arms before, and he had given her pleasure.
Pure, blazing fire.

She wanted more.

Archer was heading for the bedroom until Hannah shifted herself against him, shivered, and
hitched herself over him, all the while watching him like a cat that had just discovered
cream. The sensation of her slick heat on his aroused flesh made his heart stop.

Thats it, he said hoarsely. What?

Her voice was as husky as his. He sank to the floor, never releasing her, never letting
the blunt head of his erection move from its lush nest. I was going to give you a bed.

Cool tile met her sweaty back. I dont want it. Your back Your front, she cut in. He
blinked. What about it?

Mine, she said. Her hands went to his hips and her fingers pushed beneath his swimsuit,
fully freeing him. He jerked against her, groaning. In fiery silence she measured him,
wondering if it had been so long since Len was capable that she had forgotten what an
aroused man was like, or if Archer was simply big. She could hardly wait to feel herself
stretching around him, discovering all the other things she had forgotten about sex... and
discovering other things she had never known. Like this slow, teasing sensuality. It was
completely new to her, completely delicious. Definitely. Mine.

He gave a crack of laughter even as he shuddered with the pleasure of her hands stroking
him, savoring him with frank female approval. Yours, huh? I dont know how to break this to
you, sweetheart, but I come with it.

She fought against a delicious bubble of laughter. You sure?

Damn sure.

One fingertip circled him like a lazy tongue, spreading the few drops he couldnt hold
back. Then I guess well just have o share.

Sweat gathered and ran over Archers clenched body. He was so close to the edge, closer
than he had ever been without giving in. With each heartbeat, the head of his penis nudged
against her sultry core. Each heartbeat told him what he already knew. She was hot, wet,
ready.

And the climax was pulsing up the base of his spine.

Hannah, look at me.

Her half-closed eyes opened wide as he thrust into her, hot and deep and hard. She felt
even better than he had expected, so tight he knew he should be afraid of hurting her. But
it was much too late for fear. He could no more pull back from her than he could strip off
his own skin.

He hooked his arms beneath her legs, lifting them, opening her even more, stretching her
around him. Her eyes went dark, then blind with pleasure. Hot ripples licked up from her
core, sensual contractions that drew him deeper. The feel of her trembling and tugging at
him made him wild. His eyes and mind went blank and he felt nothing but the slow mating of
their bodies.

Then he was buried deep within her, fully sheathed. The first pulse of release ripped
through him. He tried to hold back, wanting to stop time so that he would always be as he
was right now, feeling her climax radiate in delicate convulsions, feeling his own power
pulsing, pulsing, pulsing, pleasure consuming him, overpowering him, devouring him.

And then it freed him in a world gone red and black and blind.

Smiling even as she fought for breath, for sanity, Hannah kissed Archers eyelids, his
nose, his lips, his neck beneath the sleek black beard. Her fingers combed over his hair
and down his back, then up again, and with every stroke she nuzzled against his beard,
licking and nibbling. When he began to get up, she made an unhappy sound and tried to hold
him right where he was.

Even with my weight on my elbows, Im flattening you, Archer said.

Hannah shook her head. She didnt want him to get up, didnt want the closeness to end and
the cold to begin. She had learned with Len that it might be weeks before he came to her
again. You feel wonderful.

You feel better. Archer shifted his hips just a bit and smiled to hear her breath break.
He was still hard. She was still soft. The combination was dizzying.

For both of them. Impossible, Hannah said, her voice husky. Theres no word for better than
wonderful. Yes, there is. What is it? she challenged. Hannah.

She laughed softly and went back to exploring his face with her mouth. Len had rarely
allowed this kind of sensual freedom, and never after sex, but Archer wasnt pushing away
from her. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying it. She liked that as much as she liked having
him stay deep inside her.

Eyes closed, smiling, Archer enjoyed Hannahs caressing hands and nuzzling kisses, her
tongue tasting first his beard, then his neck, then the tender skin behind his ear. When
she nibbled around his ear and explored the center with her tongue, heat flickered over
his skin like lightning.

You keep that up and youre going to wish you werent on the bottom, he said.

Her answer was a low, questioning sound, because she was too fascinated by the contours of
his ear to bother shaping words. Then she felt his hips clench. Suddenly he was locked
hard against her, moving in short, powerful jerks that made her limp with a shocking
pleasure. But nothing was as shocking as feeling him stretching her again, as though it
had been weeks since his last climax. Archer?

Hang on. He rolled over onto his back, taking her with him, shifting her until she lay on
top of him, thigh to thigh, chest to breasts. When the tile hit his back, he grunted, but
it wasnt his bruises that bothered him most. You should have told me.

What?

How cold the tile was.

I didnt notice.

The least you can do is return the favor. Reluctantly Hannah started to get up. Big hands
held her where she was, pinned against him, still deliciously impaled on him. She gave him
a questioning look.

Make me forget about the tile, Hannah. She didnt understand until she looked at his eyes.
And then she could hardly believe it. The intensity of his hunger made her whole body
tighten with pleasure, stroking him where he lay buried within her.

Thats a good start, he said, his voice raspy. He shifted his feet until they were between
her ankles. Slowly he opened his legs inside hers, stretching her wide. Her eyes came
fully open in startled pleasure. He was hard against the violently sensitive knot of her
clitoris. The more he pushed apart her legs, the more pleasure licked through her, and the
more need gnawed at her. She moved as much as she could against him, inching her hips back
and forth until she shivered against him, around him.

It wasnt enough. She could tease both of them to the edge of release, but no more. Trapped
on a sensual rack, she writhed slowly, seeking release and at the same time luxuriating in
a ravishing kind of pleasure. She knew nothing about making love like this, about need
that grew and grew and grew, climax leading to climax and yet nothing was enough, never
enough, until she was shaking, whimpering, struggling against and with him, crying and
wild.

And then she was free, grinding against him as wave after wave of pleasure slammed into
her. She would have screamed if she could have, but all she could do was arch her back and
give herself to the endless, wrenching ecstasy.

Archer watched through burning gray-green eyes, moving just enough to drive her higher,
rubbing against the sleek, hot pearl of her pleasure until she was abandoned, crying,
utterly surrendered to him and wholly victorious at the same time, driving him as surely
as he drove her, taking him to the same shattering completion she knew, holding him there,
burning, pulsing, drowning him in ecstasy.

It was a long, long time before either of them noticed the tile floor again.

The bathroom was still steamy from their shared shower. So was Hannah. The fact that
Archer had been obviously ready for sex again by the time he left the shower hadnt helped
to cool her off. Wistfully she toweled herself dry and watched the closed bathroom door.
She hadnt expected him to want her again. Not so soon. That he did both surprised and
aroused her. He might be as ruthless as Len, but Archer was certainly different when it
came to sex. She liked that difference. A lot. Knowing that he wanted her even before the
sweat dried from the last time made her lightheaded with too many emotions to name, even
if she had wanted to.

She didnt. The shimmering sexuality she had discovered within Archer and herself was
more than enough for her to cope with at the moment.

No wonder Coco cant wait to get past a mans fly, Hannah muttered, wrapping the towel
around herself.

What? Archer asked from beyond the door.

Even as she flushed, she smiled a cream-licking kind of smile. It was still on her face
when she opened the bathroom door. I said, No wonder Coco cant wait to get past a mans fly.

He smiled despite the familiar stab of heat in his crotch when he saw the rise of her
breasts against the white towel, a towel that was too small to entirely cover the dark
nest of curls between her legs. All that kept him from kneeling and burying his face in
those curls was the clock ticking in his head, the damned clock that told him he was
running late. They should be on their way to Broome by now. Yet there were so many things
he wanted to do to her, for her, with her; a whole world of sensuality waiting for them.

It had waited for ten years, Archer told himself. It will wait a little longer. The fact
that he wanted to suck on her tender flesh now right now was too damn bad. He was old
enough to control himself.

Or he had been, up until an hour ago, when he had laid her down on the tile floor and
found out just how much he had been missing in life.

What do you usually wear when you go to Broome on errands? he asked.

Hannah didnt miss the thickening of his voice, or the silver flicker of heat in his eyes
as he looked at the bottom of the towel that almost covered her. Shorts. A tank top.
Sandals.

The usual, huh?

She nodded.

Underwear? he asked.

Bikini bottoms. Bras are too hot in the rain months. Why? Do you have some kind of thing
for underwear?

He laughed even as his body tightened. If its yours, I have a thing for it.

And I know just where you keep it. Smiling, she looked at the Aussie walking shorts he was
wearing. It was her new smile, the one that told Archer just how much she had enjoyed
being his lover. And that she was looking forward to being his lover again.

Soon.

Get dressed, Hannah. My good intentions are getting even smaller than that damned towel
youre almost wearing.

Who needs good intentions? I do. It had been a long time for you. Youre going to be sore
enough without an instant replay. How about a slow replay? Even worse.

You sure?

Positive.

Damn. She sighed. Ill get dressed.

She turned away, only to go still when Archers palm slid up the inside of her thigh and
tenderly cupped the soft curls.

Im sorry I was rough, he said quietly.

She stared over her shoulder at him. Youre kidding, right?

No.

Archer, have you looked in the mirror? I left marks on you!

He grinned. Did I forget to thank you?

Yes. No! Bloody hell, the point is you didnt bite me or scratch me. I was a lot harder on
you than you were on me.

Ill make it up to you when youre not sore. Gently he skimmed her hidden sex, parting soft
folds. The flesh heated, moistened, until his fingertips were damp, too. God, I wish this
was my tongue.

Her eyelids flickered down and her legs trembled as she focused on the sweet caresses he
was giving her, barely penetrating her with a fingertip, for all the world as though he
was tasting her. How do you know just how to touch me?

Ive had ten years to think about it.

He entered her tenderly once, twice, then withdrew so slowly that her head tilted back as
though it was suddenly too heavy to hold upright.

Get dressed, sweetheart. Think of me thinking about you. Think of all those things I want
to do to you. Think of things you want to do to me. Ill wait for you outside.

Archer turned and left the room quickly, while he still could. The sweet heat and ease of
her response made his blood burn and his mind go blank.

The front door closed hard. Hannah sighed and opened her eyes. She was alone in the
bedroom.

And she was thinking about Archer thinking about her.

She dressed by habit, picked up her purse, put on her sunglasses, and headed for the front
door. When she stepped out into the white violence of the sun, she stopped dead. Archer
was there as he had said he would be, backpack slung over one shoulder, waiting for her.

And Coco was standing close enough to him that her hard-tipped breasts rubbed his bare
chest every time she took a breath.

Something wrong, Coco? Hannah asked.

Cocos black eyes gleamed as they roamed again over the man who had introduced himself only
as Archer, the man who had neither backed up nor moved toward her. He was tall and rangy,
with the kind of strength that made her wonder how long it would take to wear him out with
sex. Men were strange that way. Some of the big ones were used up quick. Some of the wiry
ones had

amazing stamina, like Tom Nakamori, whenever she got around to allowing him in her bed.
Whichever kind Archer was, he was obviously and impressively aroused.

Coco? Hannah repeated, her voice sharp. Normally Cocos effect on men was amusing, but
seeing Archer standing so close made her angry.

The dive, Coco said, reluctantly shifting her attention to her employer. Was it good? It
went fine, Archer said before Hannah could answer. We found some shell. Much? Not enough
to make a difference, Hannah said briskly. Wheres Christian?

He still bad.

Hannah made an impatient sound. When Christian had called and begged off giving her a
report because he was feeling ill, Archer hadnt believed him. Neither had she, but there
wasnt a great deal they could do right now.

We wont be able to decide how to put Pearl Cove back together until he finishes his
report, she said curtly. Has he seen a doctor?

Coco shrugged. That one? I no think so. Bloody hell, Hannah muttered. Im going to Broome
to run errands. Anything you need? With a lazy kind of thoroughness, Coco looked Archer
over again. Out, but is not in Broome.

Hannah knew she should laugh and leave Coco to it, as she had so many other times with
other men. Yet even as Hannah lectured herself, she couldnt look at Archer. If he
responded to Cocos open invitation, Hannah didnt know what she would do. Expression
neutral, Archer watched Coco. Despite his bodys stubborn arousal and her lush breasts
brushing against him, he didnt want her. It was Hannah who made his blood heat, not the
undoubtedly accomplished Ms. Dupres.

Ready, sweetheart? Archer said, turning away from Coco.

Coco saw the change in him when he looked at Hannah. The heightened tension, the narrowed
eyes, the sheer sexuality radiating like heat boiling up from a fire. With a shrug, Coco
conceded the field to Hannah. For now, anyway. Archer wasnt the first man to sniff after
Sister McGarry. When he realized that she wasnt interested in sex, he would remember Coco.

And she would remember that he had once turned his back on her. She would make him pay
before she climbed on and rode him until he was raw. The thought made her smile and
stretch like a lazy cat.

When will you be back? Coco asked Hannah.

Tomorrow, Archer said.

Hannah gave him a surprised look. I shouldnt be gone that long.

You need a break.

She looked at his eyes, more steel than heat now, silently commanding her to agree. I hear
the hotels along Cable Beach have Jacuzzis in the rooms, she said after a moment.

His smile gleamed whitely against his sleek beard. Big enough for two?

Dubiously Hannah measured Archers length. I dont know.

Ill take the bottom. You take the top. Plenty of room that way.

The thought of having Archer in a Jacuzzi with water fizzing all around appealed to
Hannah. She smiled slowly, thinking of the possibilities. It was her new smile, the one
that made Archer want to strip off her shorts and take her right there.

Coco stared at the transformation in her employer. She had the look of a woman who had
just acquired a very good, very personal sex toy, and his name was Archer. Ian wasnt going
to like hearing about this.

But she sure was going to enjoy telling him.

Chang and Flynn sat in a private room off the Blessing Cranes small public dining room.
None of Changs anger at finding out that Hannah McGarry had finally taken a lover showed
on his face. The least important part of his anger was personal and male. The majority of
his ire was professional. The Chang family was counting on him to discover the secret of
producing rainbow pearls. With that, they could increase their importance to mainland
China. With more importance would come more contracts, better contracts, and a
strengthening of guanxi, the all-important connections that were the basis of power in
China.

Despite his darting thoughts, Changs face was impassive as he ate, wielding chopsticks or
knife and fork with speedy precision, depending on the dish in front of him. Flynn did the
same. Cigarettes smoldered in the ashtray between the men, adding to the stale smell of
the room. The fact that the food was second rate didnt matter to either man. If they
wanted really good food, they abandoned Broome for Darwin or Kowloon or even Perth.

Both men were silent. They had nothing useful to say to one another. McGarrys death was
old news. The missing rainbow pearls were old news. The fact that each mans government was
pressuring him to come up with the pearl prize was taken for granted, as was the fact that
Flynn and Chang were in competition.

They hadnt come to the restaurant to socialize. They were here because a third player in
the pearl game had requested it. Until the third representative arrived, there was nothing
to do but smoke and eat and drink lukewarm beer.

The door to the private room opened. Without a word of greeting, a third man walked in,
sat down, and picked up a plate to help himself from the varied dishes at the center of
the dark table. Whatever Maxmillian Barton thought of the food, he kept it to himself. He
had been raised on Tex-Mex cuisine and had graduated to coconut milk and nuclear Thai
curries while doing several duty tours for the U.S. State Department. No matter how hot
the spice or how cold the company, Barton ate and listened, both eyes wide-open for the
main chance.

Is Archer Donovan working for the U.S. on this? Chang asked Barton without preamble. Not
so far as I can tell. How far is that? Flynn asked. Far enough to know that he has no
official ties with the U.S. government.

Chang picked up a tree ear with his chopsticks, chewed the nutty fungus, and swallowed.
What about unofficial ties?

Hes not ours off the books, if thats what you mean.

Chang grunted. McGarry had been an off-the-books agent for the United States. Sometimes.
Most of the time he had worked for himself. Chang wondered if anyone else at the table
knew.

Archer Donovans a Yank through and through, Flynn said. Hell help out his government.
Barton shrugged. Maybe. Hes turned em down flat in the past. Flynns blond eyebrows rose.
You let him get away with yanking your chain like that?

Its a free country, Barton said blandly.

Balls.

Len was a Yank, too, Chang pointed out to Flynn. He didnt help anybody but himself, no
matter who happened to be employing him.

Flynn made a disgusted sound. If there was anything that made a government crazy, it was
foreign or domestic agents who wouldnt stay bought. But it was a hazard of the business. I
still say Donovan somehow got McGarry killed.

If he did, Barton said, avoiding an opaque clot of tofu in favor of anonymous animal
protein, you better pray he never wants your pecker in his collection. We looked, and we
looked hard, and we couldnt find one single goddamn piece of evidence that Donovan had a
hand in McGarrys death. Flynn started to object.

Barton looked up, still chewing. His black eyes reminded the other men that he once had
been a contract assassin. We would love just flat fucking love to have a twist on Archer
Donovan. He was about the shrewdest damn analyst we ever had, as well as one effective son
of a bitch in the field. Having that kind of talent running around without a handler makes
us nervous. So if youre thinking we didnt look hard enough, think again.

The palm of Flynns big hand came down on the table with enough force to make silverware
jump. Then who in Jesus and Marys name killed Len McGarry?

Barton smiled thinly. Beneath his thinning gray hair his scalp gleamed. So did his teeth.
We have two pools going. The first is betting on the Chinese triads, compliments of one of
the Overseas Chineses foremost trading families.

Chang speared tofu, chewed once, and swallowed as though he didnt understand that Barton
was accusing his family.

The second pool, Barton said, watching Flynn idly, is on the Aussies doing the dirty.
Specifically the marginally bright, no-longer-young Turk who needs a gold star in his file
to go up in rank.

Bugger yourself, Flynn said without heat. If I killed the wanker, youll never prove it.

Chuckling, using the chopsticks as deftly as Chang, Barton flicked a lump of noodles from
his plate to his mouth. What are you going to do about Donovan?

Flynn didnt say a word.

Neither did Chang.

Barton sighed. Listen up, boys. For the moment, the U.S. wants Archer Donovan alive and
kicking ass.