Bodyguard Rescue. Donna Young
were some of my dad’s good scotch and the occasional nicotine fix.” She quirked her eyebrow. “It’s hard to accept that you’ve graduated to taking narcotics.” Kate flashed back to the time he’d been overseas on business and suffered a couple of cracked ribs in a traffic accident. He’d endured days of the excruciating pain rather than take a drug for relief.
“I still don’t. Doctor gave me a prescription since I’ve been having some trouble sleeping. I filled it in a moment of weakness, thinking I might need them. When I saw the shape you were in, I snagged them from my sport bag in the car where I’d tossed them.”
She didn’t believe him. To her knowledge he never allowed himself a moment of weakness. From the time Cain had introduced them, Roman had been suave, intelligent, funny and arrogantly attractive but never, ever weak.
His gaze clinically skimmed the length of her body. “They seemed to have done the trick.”
She bristled over the perusal, before the rest of his previous comment caught her attention. Roman had always moved like a cat, swiftly and silently. A trait that had intrigued her when they’d first met and unsettled her as time went on. Still, it was hard to believe he’d walked out the door and returned unnoticed. “I didn’t see you go outside last night.”
He swallowed some coffee, disregarding the handle and grasping the ceramic in his fist. “Doc, the state you were in last night, a nuclear explosion would’ve gotten past you,” he said with surprising gentleness.
So much gentleness that his next question almost caught her unaware.
“How often are you having panic attacks?”
Every time I’m more than ten feet above the ground and looking straight down. “That was my first one.” She placed her mug on the counter and crossed behind him to stir the breakfast. The first one she’d ever experienced not related to her acrophobia.
Again he sent her a disbelieving look. She pretended not to see it and nodded toward the food. “It’s done if you want to grab some plates.”
Instead Roman grabbed her hand and gently twisted her around. He watched in fascination while Kate studied their hands twined together, a silk curtain of hair covered her face, making it impossible for him to read her expression. He found himself studying their hands, also—his firm and brown, hers softer and pale with their strength masked by the slight bone structure.
As if sensing his thoughts, she looked up at him. He caught the full force of her inner turmoil. Something in her eyes softened, then deepened, revealing a flicker of her vulnerability hidden beneath.
A sharp stab of guilt made him drop her hand as if it held a grenade. She stiffened briefly over the abruptness of the move but recovered swiftly and swung back to the stove.
Roman swore.
“It’s obvious you didn’t bargain on me when you decided to use Cain’s cabin.” Her tone brought him up short. “I can’t help that, it’s important I stay here for a while.” Kate snagged the plates and served up breakfast, quietly, efficiently. “I have to go to town. Since I’ll be gone for a few hours, it should give you time to relax a little before leaving.” She handed him his plate.
Grimly, Roman accepted the food. “Even if I wanted to go, I wouldn’t leave you up here stranded.” Not bothering to explain how he knew, he pointed out her biggest problem. “How do you expect to get into town when you don’t have a car?”
She flushed, obviously ill at ease. “I have a car.” Her voice faltered. “I… I had a little trouble on the way up from New Mexico and left it at a garage in town to be checked.” She took a swallow of food. “I’ll walk into town.”
Another lie. While she’d been sleeping the night before, he’d followed her tracks until he’d found the ditched black sports car, surprised that she’d done a reasonably good job at camouflaging the trail and the car.
He’d improved it.
“It’s at least a three-mile hike.” The statement was hard and brooked no argument. “I’ll drive you.”
He was right, of course. It would be ridiculous for her to hike all that way. Damn it. If she had a choice, she wouldn’t be making the trip, but the cabin didn’t have a telephone and her cell phone was useless in the mountains. There was no way to contact Cain without going to town.
Frustration fueled her anger. If only Roman had made his offer a suggestion and not an order, she might not have lost her temper. But he hadn’t.
Kate slammed the plate onto the counter. “I got here by walking,” she snapped. “I can damned well get myself down again the same way.”
“You walked…” His eyes narrowed. Her attitude about hiking a second time set him off. “How long did it take you—two, three hours?” In his rage, he switched to Italian. “Do you realize how dangerous that was? How utterly stupid it was? What would you have done if you’d been injured or attacked?”
Kate advanced, met him toe-to-toe. “Since you arrived, you’ve been insulting my intelligence by pretending you care.” Her eyes became shards of ice. “Or just simply insulting my intelligence.” Brandishing the fork like a weapon, she waved it in front of his face. “And I’ve had it. I want you to leave. You did it once before without a backward glance. I’ll bet your technique isn’t so rusty that you couldn’t do it again.” She raised herself up on her toes, almost putting them nose-to-nose. “And I promise not to look.”
“You’ve got a smart mouth, Doc,” he snarled thickly, this time in English. Tossing his plate next to hers, he caught her wrist, took the utensil and threw it against the wall. He captured her flying fist with ease, before he pinned both arms behind her, pulling her body against him, hip to chest. “Let’s find another use for it.”
His mouth, hard and hot, consumed hers, causing her to gasp in surprise or anger. Roman didn’t care which. It was too late to stop, he’d tasted the spicy sweetness of her and his craving erupted into a rampage of hunger. He swallowed the gasp, slanting his mouth over hers, his tongue rough and insistent as he plundered the forbidden.
She quivered, flexed and then caved under the onslaught, her body going pliant while her teeth parted, allowing the unrelenting probing of his tongue. He growled and dove into the recesses of her mouth, stroking, petting—taking.
“Roman.” Kate tore her mouth away, her breath coming in pants. He slid his hands up under the loose sleeves to her shoulders, using the callused pads of his thumbs to soothe her.
“I’m here,” he murmured against the swollen curve of her lips. Then he skimmed his mouth down her jaw and explored the soft skin below her ear, savoring its sweetness. “And here.” Following the arch of her neck, he opened his mouth, tasting, suckling until he reached the base of her throat where he nibbled gently at its delicate hollow. “And here.”
She moaned, sending a vibration humming against his tongue before it shot down his body and exploded in his groin. “Feel for yourself,” he demanded, pleaded.
Obeying, she put her palms against his chest, flexing them in the thick hair, then curling her fingers against his heated skin and allowing her nails to scrape lightly over his nipples.
He shuddered and gathered her closer, his own painful groan mingling with hers at the contact of her thighs between his. He could feel the swell of her breasts beneath the slickness of the jersey. “No fermata, mi amore,” he rasped against her ear, his voice gravelly with restraint as he begged her not to stop. “I want it all.”
She stiffened against him, and he knew at once that her anger had resurfaced. She shoved herself away, staggering to the other side of the kitchen, her eyes shooting daggers from a face flushed with desire. “I’m not your love.” Her chest heaved with emotion. “And I won’t be a diversion.”
Roman gripped the counter on either side of his hips, taking several unsteady breaths to gain control. Better that than grabbing her to finish what they’d just