Raven on the Wing (14 page)

In a conversational tone, Hagen said, “That gentleman ahead of us was a cop, and a damned good one. He went plainclothes early in his career, and racked up a list of arrests and convictions that was staggering—especially since he didn’t confine himself to assigned cases. Problem was, he couldn’t cultivate the habit of turning his head at the right moments. Kept arresting the wrong people. His superiors started losing kickbacks and payoffs, so they trumped up a charge and fired him. Long hired him before I and a few
other executives of federal organizations could get our hands on him.”

“Oh,” Kelsey said a little blankly.

Hagen went on, still conversational. “The lawyer—Rafferty Lewis—was an assistant district attorney at a ridiculously young age. He, too, had a problem playing political games. Long hired him, ostensibly to handle his legal affairs. He and his partner do that, of course. But Lewis is also a dollar-a-year man for the government. He’s done some work for the Justice Department, and has been in on a couple of crime commissions. He’s a pilot, and holds a sharpshooter rating with all handguns. He’s also extraordinarily cool under pressure, and has an ability to fit himself into any situation he encounters. Gets about as nervous as a bag of cement.”

“Ummm,” Kelsey said thoughtfully.

“And Zachary Steele,” Hagen said dryly, “is an army all by himself. He was with the Special Forces—lied about his age to get in. Unlike a lot of big men, he’s
stronger
than he looks, and he’s as fast as a rattlesnake. Brilliant too; he has an
amazing memory, and a sixth sense when it comes to codes and intelligence work. He’s an electronics genius; there isn’t a security system in existence he couldn’t crack.”

There was a long silence, and then Kelsey said “Um” again, adding, “Objection withdrawn.”

Hagen smiled at his cigar. “You made copies of the tapes?”

“Of course,” Kelsey replied, mildly offended. “That bug on Raven’s bracelet works perfectly. We get ready to move?”

“We,” Hagen said, “get ready to move.”

Raven knew that Josh would come to the penthouse again that night. She turned on the tape player as soon as she got inside, and then went to wash away the ice maiden in the shower. She removed her bracelet and placed it in a dresser drawer, then undressed and removed her makeup before stepping into the stall. Luxuriating in the hot spray, she was curiously not surprised when a draft of cool air heralded an arrival. Turning in
the roomy stall, she pushed wet hair out of her eyes and smiled.

“I locked the door,” she murmured.

Josh shut the stall door to enclose them within. “I’ve been taking lessons from Zach,” he said breathlessly, reaching for her. “I picked the lock.”

Hot water streamed over them as he pulled her close, and his gaze was fixed on her face. Remembering the hours without her, he groaned. “Forever. It’s been forever—”

Raven’s arms went around his neck and her mouth was eager beneath his, hungry. The mat of hair on his chest scraped her breasts sensuously and her legs moved to twine with his. She could feel his hands moving slowly over the slippery flesh of her back, spanning her waist, lowering to cup her hips. And her head fell back when his mouth left hers to taste her throat, her shoulders.

He lifted her against him, the slide of their bodies an electric caress, and his lips found the hard, throbbing tips of her breasts. She tasted sweet and clean from the soap and felt vibrantly
alive, and the steam within the shower enclosed them in a hot, wet, intimate blanket of sensation.

Blindly, Josh reached for the faucet, turning the water off. He opened the stall and stepped out, bringing her with him, reaching for towels. And, just as it had been that morning, he was fascinated to watch her flesh change as it was dried. Sleek, shiny wetness became satin smoothness as he moved the terry cloth over her skin. She was flushed from the heat of the shower, her body rosy, her eyes darkened, aroused. He knelt before her to dry her glorious long legs, pressing a warm kiss on the silky skin beside her navel.

He rose to his feet, wrapping her in a towel and knotting one around his own waist, then led her out to the dressing table and began drying her hair. This, too, was lovemaking; the slow, sensuous movements of the brush through her hair kept them both intent, absorbed. And not until her hair was black silk gleaming with a thousand highlights did Josh turn off the dryer and set it and the brush aside.

Towels were flung to the floor, and the bed,
covers pulled back, cushioned them in cool softness.

Raven’s fingers locked in his still-damp hair, and she met his mouth fiercely, glorying in the hard strength of his body against hers.

There was a curious difference in their lovemaking. Both had spent long hours apart tormented by tension and memories of this bed. And with the intimacy they had found here had come a far more intense awareness of the dangers facing them. They were powerfully, acutely, sensitive to every touch, every glance, every murmured endearment.

Desire coiled and writhed, a living thing caged by flesh, a starving, demanding thing existing only to be sated. It took control of them, drove them wildly to lose themselves in its rich, potent texture.

If Raven had once hesitated to lose herself in feeling, there was no such barrier now. She wanted him, needed him; the hard planes of his body intrigued her, obsessed her. Her hands stroked his back, feathering lightly down his spine in a caress that made him shudder. She
traced his shoulders and arms, explored his lean ribs and powerful chest, fascinated. Her mouth found the tight hardness of his nipples, and heat moved strongly in her loins at the taste and feel of him.

She twined her legs about his, absorbed by the caress of his hair-rough flesh, moved oddly when every touch shook his powerful body with increasing need. His hoarse mutters of encouragement fueled her intense desire to touch him, explore him, and she became engrossed in the body so wonderfully different from her own.

Every breath Josh drew was fire in his lungs, and he felt as if she were tearing him apart with her soft hands and warm mouth, tearing him apart and then making him whole again, and again, and again. It was torture, a sweet, mindless torture that he wouldn’t have stopped even if death promised to follow.

He was no stranger to passion, but this went far beyond anything he’d ever known before. This was raw, essential need, profound in its power, and just this side of madness.

He was starving for her with a hunger that was voracious, shattering his control, and Josh pulled her back up beside him with a hoarse cry, moving over her, sinking his body into hers with a power that strove to make them one, fused. The inferno inside him was burning out of control, and her equally wild response only fed the flames, searing them both.

Her body strained against his, trembling, her soft cries pushing his desperate need almost over the edge. He felt the sharp sting of her nails in his back, felt the silken touch of her thighs about his hips. Her body sheathed his in a velvet clasp that sent violent shivers of hot ecstasy along his spine, and it still wasn’t enough, he still didn’t have enough of her.

There was no time for gentleness, no desire for it. In the shared desperation of their need they were matched, their bodies moving instantly into a savage rhythm. Tension built strongly, winding tighter and tighter, hot and powerful.

Raven cried out wildly when tension shattered in a hot explosion, feeling her body hold
him tightly, pleasure washing over her in mindless waves. She felt as well as heard his hoarse cry, felt him shudder in the shock waves of his release.

His trembling body was heavy on hers, but Raven held him cradled and refused to give him up. She smoothed the damp flesh of his shoulders and back, feeling his lips moving against her shoulder, her throat.

“Oh, Raven, my Raven.” His voice was a breath of sound, drained, awed. He lifted his head, gazing down into her eyes with his own, dark, still turbulent. “I knew you were out there somewhere … and I was
worried
about this?”

She remembered, then, a dark and handsome man on the floor at her feet, staring up at her with dazed, rueful eyes. “You said something like that the first night,” she murmured. “I thought you were concussed.”

“I know what you thought.” He kissed her, easing up on his elbows to lessen the weight on her. “But I wasn’t. It’s just that I’ve always known I’d fall in love with a beautiful brunette
someday—and lose control. Scared the hell out of me.” He kissed her again, slowly, deeply.

Raven was a little puzzled, amused. “How could you possibly know that?”

“Beats me. But I did. Why do you suppose I’ve surrounded myself with blondes all these years?”

“Practice?” she suggested dryly.

He chuckled. “That did sound arrogant, didn’t it? It wasn’t meant that way. I went out with blondes because not one of them ever made me lose control. But you do.… Dear Lord, you do, sweetheart. I can’t stop looking at you, touching you. And every time we make love, the feelings just keep growing stronger.”

She pushed a lock of his dark hair back, gazing into his warm blue eyes. “I love you,” she whispered. “I didn’t know it could be like this. I never even dreamed I could feel this way.”

Josh rolled suddenly until he lay on his back with her on top of him, his hands moving over her in a gentle caress. “I love you,” he murmured. “You’ll never know how much.”

For one wild, passionate moment, Raven
wanted to ask him to take her away somewhere. To a place with no shadows, no dangers, no knife-edge parts to play. Then the spurt of desperation faded, and she knew that neither of them would want that, even if it was a choice offered to them.

Exhaustion claimed her slowly, and she was only dimly aware that he had managed to pull the covers up around them. Warm in the security he gave her, she listened to his heart beating steadily beneath her cheek.

And there were no nightmares.

F
ROWNING
, Z
ACH PACED
around the living room. He returned finally to the computer printout spread on the coffee table, sitting down on the couch and staring worriedly at the papers.

Josh, beginning to look strained all the time now, had gone off hours earlier to spend another night in Raven’s penthouse apartment, and Zach worried about that too. Not so much because of the danger inherent in the action—although there was, of course, very real danger—but because of the effect on his friend that was growing more visible with every passing day. Though
Josh had said nothing about it to any of his men, Zach could see only too clearly that the situation was becoming intolerable; this was something Josh could not control, and it had been that way from the beginning.

Zach had a strong feeling that Raven, though clearly in love with Josh, was unwilling to make a commitment while danger threatened them both. And Zach wished fervently that he could have just five minutes alone with her to explain why that decision, though a reasonable and natural one certainly, was entirely wrong for Josh.

Why, in fact, it was tearing him apart.

But Zach knew better than to interfere. Josh and Raven would have to work it out by themselves—if they could without tearing each other to shreds. Zach’s only certainty was that both Josh and Raven were the rare type of human who met life head-on and wrestled fiercely to get what they wanted and needed; and both were perceptive, courageous people.

If a solution was possible, they would find it between themselves.

If there was time.

He sighed, staring down at the printout. A worry he could do nothing about. And this bothered him too. He had a vague, unsettled feeling that they were being manipulated, pawns on some ridiculous, larger-than-life chessboard in a game played for some unseen person’s perverse enjoyment. He ran fingers through his dark hair, frowning. It didn’t make sense, dammit, it just
didn’t
.

“You’re still up?” Rafferty came into the room from his own, yawning and tying the belt of his robe absently. “It’s almost dawn, for God’s sake.”

Zach grunted. “Well, why’re you up, then?”

“The traditional remedy for insomnia. Cocoa.” Rafferty went to the bar and poured a generous measure of brandy into a snifter. “Or the modern version.”

“Make it two, will you?” Zach was silent until the snifter was in his hand and a swallow burned its way gently down his throat. “Thanks.”

Rafferty sank into a chair and glanced at the printout spread on the table. “I consider this a
part of last night rather than this morning,” he announced with a mild attempt to satisfy the dictates of convention, sipping his drink. “Besides, the sun must be over the yardarm
somewhere.”
Then he noticed Zach’s lack of attention. “You’re still going over that stuff?”

Zach nodded, then said, “It’s been a couple of days since Travers told Raven he’d make the arrangements, right?”

“According to Josh.”

“So it could be today.”

“Or tomorrow. Or next week. Who knows?”

“Comforting bastard, aren’t you?”

After a moment, Rafferty sighed. “All right, so I’m worried too. He looked like hell when he left, didn’t he? I guess we all should have known if Josh ever lost that obsessive control, he’d be in trouble. Well, he’s in trouble. And there’s not a damned thing any of us can do about it. Not us.”

Zach stirred uneasily. “I know. But … He’s too near the edge to explain himself to her—and she’s the only one who could help him. If they
could meet openly, it might be different, he might be able to handle it.”

“I don’t know.” Rafferty shook his head a little. “Look at what he’s been through. I’m still surprised he managed to pull himself up after you handed him that printout. From what you told us, it almost killed him. And he hasn’t had a chance to get his balance back.”

Staring down at the papers, Zach said slowly, “Yeah. He hardly needs something else on his plate right now. Which is why I really don’t want to hit him with this.”

“With what?” Rafferty leaned forward.

Zach picked up a pencil and began checking names, dates, places, occurrences. “Look at this. Here. And here …”