Night Rescuer. Cindy Dees
no makeup.”
“You obviously are blinded by the soap in your eyes,” she replied, laughing.
“I may be blinded, baby, but it isn’t soap doing the job.”
How could a girl resist a compliment like that? She melted against him, savoring the unbearably sensual slide of soapy skin on skin. She stood on tiptoe and wrapped her right leg around his hips in blatant invitation. With the hot water pounding down on them both, he stared down at her, abruptly serious.
“I don’t deserve you,” he said.
She barely heard him over the sound of the water. “You don’t deserve me?” she echoed. “I think you’ve got that backward. I don’t deserve you.”
“Ahh, honey, you have no idea. The things I’ve done—”
The back of her calf rubbed against that telltale scar on his back as she blinked up at him through the shower’s spray. “We’re both adults. Everyone who hasn’t lived in a cocoon has baggage of some kind. I won’t hold the skeletons in your closet against you if you won’t hold mine against me.”
Doubt flickered in his gaze and his eyes glazed with distant thoughts. Was he skeptical of her past or his?
She leaned into him, forcing him to acknowledge her presence. “We’re here together now. No past. No future. Just this moment.”
He didn’t quite come back to her, his eyes were still dark and haunted.
“Come back to me, John,” she murmured. She reached down with her hand to guide him into her throbbing heat. Oh, yeah. That did it. Awareness of her roared back into his eyes, and he aggressively took charge of the moment. Wrapping one arm around her waist, he picked her up and backed her against the cool, tile wall of the shower. With his other hand braced by her head, he drove into her until all thought fled her mind. There was nothing at all except the moment and the two of them, the pounding water and steam, and the rhythm of their bodies slapping into one another as they drove away their demons.
They ordered room service and ate in, lazily watching the morning fog burn off the city skyline below. As hard as she tried to ignore it, the moment came when she could no longer delay the inevitable. She had to make that phone call. So much for her fantasy tryst before she handed herself over to the jackals. Her mouth set grimly, she dug in her purse and fished out the piece of paper with the phone number she’d been given to call when she got here. She reached for the telephone.
A big hand landed gently on top of hers, stopping her from lifting the handset. “I’ll make the call, Melina.”
“They won’t talk to you. They’re expecting me!”
His gaze narrowed far too intelligently. “Who’s they?”
“The people I’m supposed to call,” she replied with desperate calm. He mustn’t mess this up! Her family’s lives rode on it. Huayar had been clear. Any deviation at all from her instructions, and her family would be tortured and possibly killed.
“I’m sorry, honey. I need you to be more specific than that.”
“John, let me make the call. Please just stay out of this.”
He turned at that, capturing both of her hands in his and drawing her away from the phone entirely. He led her across the room and gently forced her down into one of the armchairs. Alarmingly, he continued to stand, looming over her with his arms crossed.
“With all due respect, sweetheart, what the hell’s going on? I already told you that you can tell me anything. And I meant it. But I need to know what I’m up against, here.”
“You’re not up against anything. I hired you to deliver me and nothing more.”
He replied dryly, “As I recall, you fired me last night.”
She glanced up at him, startled. Humor danced in his silver gaze. “That’s not fighting fair to throw that in my face now.”
“I never said I fight fair.”
She sighed. “John.”
“Melina.”
“I can’t tell you, okay? There’s more going on here than meets the eye. But you don’t need to know the details. In fact, you’ll be safer if you don’t know anything.”
She scooted backward as he leaned toward her, planting his hands on the arms of the chair and forcing her to arch back to look at him. His expression went blacker than sin. He gritted out words slowly, enunciating clearly. “Whether you like it or not, and whether you cooperate or not, my job is to deliver you to your family safe and sound. If you won’t tell me what I’m up against to make that happen, then we’re not leaving this hotel room.”
“But I have to go…I can’t stay here….”
“I’m bigger than you, Melina, and trust me, I’m meaner than you are. We go nowhere until you spill your guts.”
She closed her eyes in frustration. And everything had been going so well, marching along exactly according to plan—to Huayar’s plan. Maybe John had a point. Maybe taking a modicum of control of this process wouldn’t be a bad thing for her. If nothing else, it might alleviate a little of her sense of being a lamb toddling along docilely to her own slaughter.
“Fine,” she huffed. “I’m not going to meet my family exactly. It’s a work related thing. I’m going to meet some people…to…exchange some information.”
“In the remotest region of Peru? What the hell kind of information requires that sort of meeting place?”
She folded her arms stubbornly. “I’m not saying any more. I’ve already said too much.”
He studied her speculatively for long enough that she developed a nearly uncontrollable urge to squirm. Finally, he commented, “I can think of about two innocent reasons for you to be heading deep into the Andes and about ninety-five reasons that are anything but innocent. Which is it?”
They’d made love until the wee hours of the morning last night, had bared their bodies and their souls to one another. He’d looked into the face of her desperation and naked despair and he hadn’t flinched. And he didn’t strike her as the judgmental type. He gave off a vibe of having done enough things he wouldn’t want others to judge, so he wouldn’t be the first one to cast stones. Still, she couldn’t tell him the truth. And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to lie to him, either. That would be too easy, the coward’s way out. She pressed her lips firmly together.
He sighed. “Give me the phone number. I’ll make the call.”
“I already said you can’t.”
“And I already said you’re not doing it. That leaves only me to make the call. End of discussion.”
She glared up at him. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a stubborn, unreasonable man?”
“They usually say I’m pigheaded and arrogant, too. But I’ll give you a few days to get there. In the meantime, please hand over the phone number nicely, or I may have to take it by force.”
“You wouldn’t!” she gasped, aghast.
He raised a sardonic eyebrow and merely stared at her. His expression gave away absolutely nothing. Did she believe him, or should she call his bluff? She studied him for a moment more. Nope. He wasn’t bluffing. Calm readiness radiated from him. He was fully prepared to mug her for the phone number. Man. She could see where the pigheaded and arrogant accusations came from. Disgruntled, she passed over the slip of paper.
“Thank you,” he said with quiet dignity.
Damn him. He would have to go and be a gracious winner, too. That made it harder to stay mad at him. She sat back in her chair with a huff.
He dialed the number quickly.
His end of the conversation was painfully