Naked In His Arms. Sandra Marton
make a scene. Make noise. Lots of it.
Women in the program eventually caught on. Civilians rarely did. Raised to be polite, they struggled with the idea of calling attention to themselves. It was bull, but it was how it was.
And it would work to his advantage.
The Prescott woman wouldn’t make a fuss if he approached her the right way.
So, he’d stay with his plan. After all, nothing had changed. She hadn’t seen him. He thought she would, when she’d paused at the closet, so close he could smell her scent.
Lilacs, definitely. Soft and feminine.
She’d looked that way, too. Soft. Feminine. And incredibly sexy, walking around just the way he’d imagined her, in a lace bra and panties the color of cream, the color rich against her golden skin. No stilettos but she was a turn-on without them.
All he’d had to do was slip from the closet…
The way he did now.
She’d left the bathroom door open. He glanced at the shower. The glass was pebbled, translucent but not transparent. He could see her outline through it.
See that her arms were raised, her breasts lifted, her body gracefully arched.
Alex scowled, dragged his gaze from the bathroom and made his way noiselessly toward the front door, then paused. At least he could check the phones for bugs. He had enough time for that.
Working silently, he took out a pocketknife, undid a couple of screws in the base of the first phone…and found a bug.
Damn.
He put the phone back together and moved to the second one. Another bug. As he put the screws back in, thunder rolled overhead, its roar as loud as a freight train.
Thunder, in November? he thought, looking up at the skylight just in time to see a bolt of lightning blaze across the sky. It illuminated a small object in the corner of the skylight.
Something was up there that sure as hell didn’t belong.
Alex grabbed a chair, put it under the skylight and climbed up. No good. He was six foot four but even with the added height, the skylight remained tantalizingly out of reach.
He got down, checked the area again, eyes sliding past the broom in the corner, then returning to it.
Maybe.
He grabbed it, got back on the chair. Success! A couple of pokes and the thing he’d spotted came loose and clattered to the floor.
The sound was like a gunshot and he held his breath, listening for the Prescott babe to come running, but the shower was going full blast.
Alex scooped up the thing he’d dislodged.
It was a wireless camera. Incredibly small, barely the size of an oversized button, and it was recording everything that happened here.
Including his break-in?
One thing was certain. If there was one camera, there were others.
The woman he was supposed to protect was being watched. By Gennaro’s hoods? If Gennaro knew where she was, why didn’t he just come and get her? It could be the feds, but Shaw had promised to call them off.
To hell with trying to figure it out. Whoever was watching her could damned well have watched him for the past half hour, too.
For all he knew, they were on their way here right now.
Thunder raged overhead. Was the shower still running?
Noiselessly, he made his way to the bathroom. Yes, it was. Tendrils of steam curled from the opening over the stall.
Slowly, he moved inside the room, ready to spring if Cara Prescott chose this moment to turn off the water and open the glass door. She’d panic at the sight of him. There was nothing he could do to prevent that, but he did intend to control it.
Her panic would be all the worse because she was naked. That wouldn’t matter to him. Sex didn’t enter into this. She was a job, that was all.
But her fear, coupled with the element of surprise, could work in his favor. The old rules still applied.
He took a couple of deep breaths to slow his heartbeat and oxygenate his blood. Now, he thought, and in one quick motion, he slid the shower door back.
Cara Prescott whirled toward him. Her face contorted with fear and she gave a scream that might have curdled the blood of a man who’d never inspired terror before.
As for her scream bringing the neighbors…it wouldn’t. The bells had proved that. And then there was the sound of the shower and the thunder rumbling overhead.
Still, why take chances?
He stepped forward, put one foot into the stall and wrapped his arm around her neck, covered her mouth with his hand and pulled her back against him.
“Pay attention, Ms. Prescott. Do as you’re told and—Damn it!”
She sank her teeth into the tender web of flesh between his thumb and his forefinger. He yanked his hand free and adjusted it so that it covered her nose as well as her mouth.
She reacted instantly, her body arching like a bow against the threat of imminent suffocation.
“Do that again,” he said, his voice a warning growl, “and I’ll be forced to retaliate. I repeat, Ms. Prescott. Do as I tell you and you’ll be all right.”
He had her on her toes now, her head tucked against his shoulder in an ugly parody of a lover’s embrace. Water streamed down on them both and still she fought him, hands clamped around his wrist, using up whatever air was in her lungs in a desperate attempt to save her life.
Alex released the pressure, let her drag in a breath, then covered her nose and mouth again.
“Listen, damn it,” he said, putting his lips to her ear. Her skin was cool and wet; a strand of hair fragrant with the scent of lilacs drifted across his mouth. “Behave yourself and I’ll take my hand off your nose. Fight me, and I’ll keep it right where it is until you pass out. Understand?” She didn’t answer, but her struggles were growing frenzied. “Understand?” he repeated, the word a hard demand.
She gave a frantic nod.
“Good. Just remember. One sound, one false move, and I won’t give you a second chance.”
He moved his hand so it covered only her mouth but kept his arm right where he wanted it, hard around her throat. She was on tiptoe, off balance physically as well as emotionally, and that was the way he intended to keep her for a while.
Her nostrils flared as she gulped for air; the sound of her breathing was harsh. Her body trembled against his.
“Easy,” he said softly. “Calm down, and listen.”
She shuddered, but he could feel some of the rigidity easing from her body. When it did, he slackened the pressure of his encircling arm just enough to show her he was pleased with her response.
“I’m going to take my hand from your mouth. I don’t want you to scream. I don’t even want you to talk. Do this right, you’ll be fine. Yell, bite, come at me—whatever you try, I’ll stop you. And I promise, Ms. Prescott, you’ll regret it. Understand?”
Her eyes widened; he knew his use of her name had finally registered.
“Understand?” he said again.
She gave a jerky nod. Alex waited a few seconds. As he’d hoped, a clap of thunder roared overhead. He took his hand from her mouth, half expecting her to scream despite his warning, but she didn’t.
Good, he thought, and swung her toward him.
He told himself to remember that her nudity gave him a psychological advantage but that it meant nothing to him sexually.
Still,