The Darkest Danger (Shattered Series Book 2) (5 page)

     “Suite 1134---an exclusive private suite,” Matt mulled thoughtfully, leaving the stall. “Good that means that she’ll be out of plain sight, and hopefully that means I’ll escape my father’s ire.”

     “Ohhh…my stomach hurts so badly,” she moaned again, leaning against Mrs. Thompson. “I really do need to lie down.”

     Matt gave a sound of disgust. “Can’t you do anything right? Leave it to you to mess up such an important moment,” he snapped, already moving for the door. “She’s contaminated the air-space enough as it is, and I sure in hell don’t plan on catching the runs. Get her out of here and away from me.”

     As Mrs. Thompson led her away, she cast a final look over her shoulder.

     With all hope, Jarrod would follow.

Chapter 3

     “Your dress is laid out on the chaise lounge in the sitting area. It’s still wearable,” the older woman smiled, pulling the covers over her. “But, I certainly wouldn’t bother wearing it until returning downstairs to the festivities, later. I suppose that Matt is good for something at least. He left word at the front desk that you’re not to be disturbed for the next few hours, and I wouldn’t worry about him either. Business is the only thing on his mind, right now, I’m afraid. With my husband and the rest of the lout down there, it’ll probably be dawn before this engagement party is over.” She smiled again. “So, take these moments to relax and get some rest.”

     “I can’t thank you enough,” she said truthfully, grabbing Mrs. Thompson’s hand while she finished tucking the covers around her. “You’ve been more than kind.”

     Mrs. Thompson smiled. “Hush, I’d do this for anyone. Well, not really. I don’t know, there’s something about you. There’s an innocence about you that reminds me of my granddaughter. It’s not my place to say this, but you can do much better than Matt Addison. Explore your other options, dear,” the woman said, straightening, and then placed the keycard on the nightstand by the bed. “Do it before it’s too late.”

     Nodding, she pulled the satin covers to her chin.

     But, she didn’t relax until the door closed behind Mrs. Thompson. After waiting a few scant seconds, she shoved the covers off, and the fuchsia-hued, lace teddy barely covered the bare minimum since she was so voluptuously shaped. Uncaring of her scantily clad figure, she raced to the hotel door. Her hands shook as she dimmed the lights low, and now, she was almost a shadow in the room.

     “Where are you?” she whispered desperately, peering through the peep hole. “Come on, Jarrod…”

     Several tense seconds later, a shadow played against the wall.

     She held her breath.

     Finally, Jarrod’s warped figure appeared in full view. She jerked the door open fast. “Jarrod, hurry!” she whispered frantically, watching as he strode along the hallway. When he reached the door, she yanked him inside.

     As the door closed behind them, she leaned against it, weakened, and nearly wept at the joy bursting inside of her. But, a shyness and awkwardness stole over her.

     Had he always been such a dangerous, smoldering, fascinating creature, she mulled, returning his deep stare. And had the air between them always been this primal, raw, uncontrollable, and electrifying? The deep need---his need for her---had it ever been as evident as it was now?

    But, obviously, he was fighting against his own inner desires, she realized, taking in his tense features. Something else played in his eyes, and whatever it was, it was dead serious.

     Her eyes slid up his hard body.

     Serious---she didn’t have the time for it.

     Right now, in these minutes, she wasn’t strong enough to breach past the sensual madness that breathed heavily in the semi-dark room; and as wild and crazy as the night had been, she wanted to seize hold of it, she thought, biting her trembling lips.

     Was she being selfish?

    
Of course---

     In the face of the pending danger, were her lingering thoughts crazy?

    
Yes---

     But, she needed to be close to him…

     “Your little theatrical performance has surely bought us some time, even though, it’s not much,” Jarrod murmured, releasing a deep breath. “At any minute, things can spiral out of control. But, I’ve got to get you out of here in one piece.” Pausing, he looked at her before removing the gun from his waistband. With care, he placed it on the small table near the door. “Baby, I don’t want you to be caught off-guard. You need to be aware of the danger---”

     “Stop talking,” she said softly.

     “Olivia---”

     “
Please
.”

     His eyes flickered with interest, and as they ran over her, she shivered. With his eyes, he undressed her, and suddenly she felt exposed in the flimsy teddy. But, that fact only heightened her arousal ten-fold.

     Every pinpoint of her flesh tingled with anticipation…the unbearable ache, her torpedoing heartbeat, and dear heavens, the wetness between her clenched thighs….Tensing against the door, she bit back a desperate moan.    

     The silence deepened.

     They both sensed the rising storm.

     And silently, she prayed it’d pull them under.

     Finally, he found the strength to break the silence.      

     “Olivia---”

     “Hold me,” she whispered, afraid to move, in fear that he’d vanish from her again. Her tear-filled eyes clung to his. “I need you to touch me.”

     The regret played on his face. “Baby, we can’t---”

     “You don’t want me anymore,” she whispered again, fighting back the hurt. “Was I wrong before in believing that you did? Have you stopped wanting to be with me? If you don’t love me anymore, just say it---”    

     “What the fuck did you just say to me?” Jarrod rasped hoarsely, stepping forward, placing both hands on the door above her head. The raw, primal look in his eyes left her weak; and the searing heat radiated from his hard body straight to hers, even though their bodies didn’t touch. “Look at me…really look inside of me. Then, tell me what I feel for you.”

     Chemistry, yes, that’s what it was between them, she mulled, dazed, drowning in his eyes. It literally set the dark space afire.

     Breath-starved, she gripped his waist, too mesmerized to speak or move. His warm breath fanned her face as he leaned down, far enough so that their lips were a breath apart. In the semi-darkness, his dark green eyes glowed with the promise of pleasurable danger.

     She clung to him weakly. “Jarrod---”

    
“When I was in that dingy hellhole back on the Canyon Islands, I’d lie awake and pretend that you were there with me. Even though we were millions of miles apart, I could see you, hear you, touch you, taste you... Every curve and line on your body, I had memorized in my mind, and all I could think about was being buried so deep inside of you, lost in nothing but you, ” he rasped again, and the scent of whiskey on his breath only heightened the allure of his words. “Those days and nights that we spent on the yacht together, where we made love to each other like there was no tomorrow, they were on constant replay in my head. I swear that I could hear your breathless pleas as you surrendered to me. And the memory of us is what kept me going and made me fight to reclaim my life back. Every part of me, I give it to you, and I can only pray that it’s enough.”

    “You are enough…you’re all that I want.”

    “Then, trust in what I feel for you,” he whispered, stroking the smooth column of her nape with both of his hands. “Know that I love you.”

     “Then, let me be with you…please,” she pleaded. “I just need to be close to you.”

     He edged closer.

     Yet, he didn’t move in for the kiss, and neither did she. They simply breathed each other in…

     She ran a drugged look along his face, and on their own volition, her hands inched upward, moving from his waist onto his chest.

     “Olivia,” he half-protested, but still did nothing as she pushed the suit jacket from his broad shoulders. “Baby---”

     “I love you,” she whispered, holding his gaze, and began loosening the tie and waistcoat. “I love you so much.”

     A second later, the articles of clothing hit the floor.  

     Now, the stark white shirt was the only barrier left between her hands and his naked skin, she mulled, running an appreciate look along his front. Then, as she had with the waistcoat, she worked on freeing him from it. Her pursuit was purposefully slow as she flicked the first button free, and she relished in the sound of his uneven, harsh breathing as she worked her way down. After freeing the last one, she tugged the shirt from his waistband and spread it open. When her hands met his heated flesh, she nearly crumpled to the floor.

     She tracked her hands ascent as they journeyed up his chest, and when their eyes met again, she was suddenly shy. “I’ve missed you so much.”

     “I swear you’re even more beautiful than before,” he murmured, sensing her shyness, and closed his hands over hers. “When it comes to you, there is no such thing as mercy, is it? You’ve damned me to an eternal hell of wanting you and nothing else.”

     She inhaled a sharp breath. “Jarrod---”

     He cupped the back of her nape, and then ran his large hand upward before threading his fingers in her thick dark mane. “Do you realize the power that you have over me? All my good intentions---you have annihilated every single one of them,” he breathed hoarsely, teasing her lips with his breath. “You’re the only woman in the world that leaves me completely fucked up in the head.”

     To her disappointment, he stepped back, leaving several feet between them, and once more, she feared that he’d pull away from her entirely.

     “I don’t mean to ‘fuck you up’, as you’re saying,” she said, confused, still standing with her back pressed against the door. “It’s just that I love you so much, and I can’t control how I feel about you.”

     “Damn it, when it comes to you, I have no sense of control,” he thundered, shaking his head. “For pity’s sake, look at me now. Downstairs, there’s a room full of criminals and vultures, and our entire lives could be usurped at any moment. But, all I can think about is sheathing myself into your heat and losing myself in you. Doesn’t that prove that I’ve reached a new level of crazy?”

     “I’m sorry, is wanting me that much so wrong?” she whispered, blinking back tears. “You think that you’re the only one that feels that way? I’ve spent the last weeks of life in pure hell, and all that I could think about was being with you.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “Being with you now makes me realize how lost I’ve been without you. This is the only chance that we can ever be together again. Neither of us knows what tomorrow will bring, especially with Matt and his threats.

     “And the son-of-a-bitch is going to pay for every bit of pain that he’s caused you,” Jarrod muttered, and his wild anger flared again. “That’s why we have to take a step back right now and focus. As much as I want to make love to you right now, I can’t. This isn’t the time or the place.” He cupped the back of her nape again, and once more his eyes smoldering with dangerous, sensual intent. “When we’re long and far away from here, we’re going to have our time. All day---all fucking night, I’m going to touch you, taste you, and make love to you until neither of us can think straight.” He pressed a soft kiss along her forehead. “But, right now, I’m going to get you out of here. Then, Addison and I can end this game, once and for all. It’s been a long time coming. Only one of us will be left standing at the end. Get dressed.”

     His words were enough to sober her, and again, she faced the stark reality of their situation. In a flash, her fear returned for his safety and Meghan’s.

     And the reality was they both stood to die as long as they were near her.

     “No,” she said adamantly, and again a sense of desperation claimed her. Pulling free of his hold, she moved from the door. She faced him in the semi-darkness. “I’m not leaving---I’m going to stay. This is my life now. It’s time that we both accept that.”

     “What?” he asked in disbelief. “You want to tell me what just happened here- --what’s with the 180? You tell me you love me… that you want to make love to me…hell, you practically stripped me naked. But now, a split second later, you’re all about marrying that son-of-a-bitch? No, it doesn’t add up, Olivia---”

     She lifted her chin. “Matt and I are getting married in a few months---”

     “The hell you are,” he cursed, and his green eyes seemed to blaze in the darkness. “That’s not going to happen.”

     “Well, you can’t stop me!” she fought back, turning from him, and was already stooping down to pick his clothes from the floor. “And I don’t know what I was thinking, saying that I loved you, asking you to make love to me---I mean, I am an engaged woman---”

     Before she could get the words out, he whirled her around, and she gasped in surprise. She held the crumpled clothes between them as defense.

     “What is that bastard threatening you with?” he demanded, gripping her upper arms. “What has he said or done to make you this afraid?”

     “Nothing,” she lied, pulling free of his hold, and looked away from him. “The truth of the matter is that he is my fiancé. You’re not. Our time together was nothing but a lie, and I suppose that by seeing you again, I just got caught up in the fantasy again. And that’s what we are, Jarrod---a fantasy. Nothing about us and what we shared on the island was real.”

     “The hell it wasn’t real, and by you saying otherwise, you’re lying to yourself and me,” he quipped tightly. “What’s going on with you? The things that you’re saying, they’re not making any sense.”

     “Of course it makes sense,” she stressed, swallowing hard, and wondered if she could continue with her façade. “You were dealing with a broken past and I was too. Our being together was just a convenient escape for the both of us.” Talking fast, she rambled on. “Seeing you again tonight, it was a shock at first, and then as usual, I settled into the comfortable habit of leaning on you for answers and guidance. My needy behavior from earlier with me trying to seduce you and everything, please forgive me for it. Old habits die hard, I suppose.”