Dare Me, page 14
"What are you doing?"
He inhaled her in. "Loving my new wife."
Despite herself, Jade's bones melted. From a few seats away she heard a woman's voice. "Oh, Fred, look. Newlyweds."
Jade forced herself to relax, but with Will's hands possessively on her, his warm breath tickling her neck, his teeth—oh, God—his teeth taking hot little bites out of her, it was impossible. "I can't think," she whispered desperately. Her hands clutched his shirt at his chest. "Please, Will."
"They're walking by."
They were walking by. She sank into him, into the public display of affection that she'd never engaged in before, her eyes crossing when Will dragged her lower lip between his teeth and nipped. She opened her mouth and dove into the kiss, blinking when she grasped the fact that Will had pulled back and was looking at her.
"Jade." In his voice she heard both amusement and arousal, and she could only stare at him. "They're gone."
"Did they look over here?"
"No." He looked alert now, and far from the man who'd just kissed her. A chameleon, she knew now.
When she'd first set eyes on him, he'd scared her to death with his dark, edgy, dangerous air. But in the hours since then she'd seen depths to him, pieces of the man, a sharp intelligence, a surprising wit. A fathomless warmth and compassion. "Who are you?" she whispered, shaking her head. "Who are you really?"
His hands slid down her sides to her hips, which he squeezed. "Your husband. The man who promised to cherish you and keep you safe forever." His hands were gentle on her, terrifyingly tender, as if he was trying to tell her it was all going to be okay. But she didn't know how to believe it, and she put her forehead to his. "Are we going to make it?"
With his good hand, he lifted her chin. Kissed her softly. "Oh yes, we're going to make it. Trust me on this."
She wanted to. With everything she had, she wanted to.
They boarded the airplane. Will watched everyone embark, carefully taking stock of each face, and who they were with. He had an aisle seat, with Jade next to him in the middle seat. She looked tense, ready to shatter from nerves by the time the plane took off. She had opened her backpack and was holding the rattle she'd told him was her grandmother's, running her fingers over the porcelain.
His arm was killing him, and all he wanted was a few solid hours of sleep, but he stroked a hand over her hair. "You holding up?"
She put the rattle away and zipped up the pack. "Don't worry, you won't be disappointed on your first night of marriage." She grinned at him, though the smile didn't reach her eyes.
He stared at her, so strong, so utterly amazing. But for a twist of fate it might have been her who'd been
shot, and he didn't think he'd have been able to live with that. Selfish. Bringing her here with him to find Mario had to be the single most selfish thing he'd ever done. He should have left her in the States, safe—
Jade cuddled into him. To anyone watching, they were two honeymooners unable to stop from hugging each other at every corner. She put her face into the crook of his neck. "Stop it."
"Stop what?"
She lifted her face. "You couldn't have left me there. It was too dangerous."
He stared at her. "You reading my mind now?"
"Isn't that a wifely duty?" She put her hand on his chest, palm to his heart, and kissed his ear. "Tell me the truth. Are you really okay?"
Tell me the truth. ... He hadn't done that yet, and he'd probably rot in hell for this one.
"Will."
He looked at her again. "Are you?"
"Yeah. I'm really okay." If one didn't count the intense throbbing where he'd been shot. But Jade looked so tense beneath the surface, so exhausted, he made his smile real as he touched her face. "Sleep," he urged softly. "Just for a little while."
"What if you need me?"
He could have told her he hadn't needed anyone, not for a very long time. He'd have sworn his life on the fact that he didn't need anyone now, and yet as he stared into her warm, dark eyes, he found himself wondering what it would be like for this to be real, for him to have someone watching his back, or just to be at his side, whether he needed her or not. "I'll wake you."
She yawned. Smiled a little embarrassedly. " 'Kay."
But she didn't move.
"Close 'em, Jade."
Almost as if against her will, they drifted shut as she fell into slumber, her face turned toward him, her hand still open on his chest. He stared down at it, at that gesture of trust, and felt his throat tighten. Chances were if his arm hadn't been on fire, he'd have tugged her closer. Chances were it wouldn't have been any husband act either.
Chances.
He'd taken a lot of them today, and certainly had more in front of him. But he'd gone into this situation willingly, knowing what he was getting into.
Jade had not.
And at the thought, he gritted his teeth and pulled her closer anyway, a movement that had nothing to do with staying in character, and everything to do with the fact that the rules had changed yet again. It wasn't about just Wendy anymore, or his revenge, but about this woman, and keeping her safe.
That he was falling for her just added to the complications.
* * *
They got off the plane at the Los Cabos airport, and waited in the luggage area for Will's bag. They hadn't been able to carry it on because of his gun.
Will wasn't sure what time it was, and his arm blazed with fiery pain so that he decided against even lifting his wrist to check his watch, but he guessed it was somewhere in the neighborhood of two in the morning. He'd finally given in and had taken a fistful of Jade's aspirin, which might as well have been candy.
Jade kept looking at him, and he knew she was worried.
It was sick of him, he knew, but he liked her worried about him. Liked it a lot. She stayed close to his side, looking sleepy and rumpled and extremely sexy.
The airport was practically deserted. Only a few stragglers moving through, all with the staggering look of the drunk or weary.
The wide-open spaces of the terminal were a concern. Sitting ducks. He had no idea if they'd been followed this far, but they had to get out of here. "We'll find an inn or something," he said, still scanning the area for anyone who looked as if they'd like to take another shot at them.
"Hold on," Jade said.
He expected her to head toward the restroom. Instead she went to a rack of pay telephones and pulled out the phone book, flipping through the yellow pages.
"What are you doing?" He wanted to get her tucked away somewhere, where his revenge wouldn't get her hurt.
"Since I messed up our honeymoon reservations, I'm looking for a place to stay." She smiled; then when he moved close, she whispered, "I'm looking for a bar with a fishy name." Her short, choppy hair fell into her face as she scanned the list of bars, running her finger down the page.
Her fingernail was a pale, glittery pink, and chewed short. For some reason, that very human little habit tugged at him.
So did the look on her face when she lifted it and shook her head. Defeat. She rose wearily, but managed another smile. "Let's just go wing it."
A shower, a meal, and a bed, he thought, and not necessarily in that order. He touched her face. "Yeah. Let's wing it. After a few hours of sleep, we'll start fresh."
A fresh start. After all Jade had been through, she held on to that like a lifeline. She walked through the airport on Will's good side, holding his hand in hers, which he lifted to his mouth to occasionally nibble on her knuckles, looking for all the world like a man completely and totally absorbed in his new wife.
But she knew him now, or she was beginning to. He wasn't at ease or casual at all, but carefully and surreptitiously keeping an eye on all around them.
No one paid them the slightest bit of attention, but that didn't stop the tingle of awareness down her spine, or her wondering if they were going to be shot at again.
They discovered there were no rental cars available at this hour, no bus service unless they went to a separate terminal, which Will didn't want to do. From here there was nothing but a lone taxi, a car that looked as if it'd been to hell and back. They slid into the backseat together, Will holding her close to his good side. Beneath his shirt he still felt too hot, and when he moved too quickly, she could feel his muscles tremble. Sick with worry, she kept looking at him.
He smiled at her, though it lacked the brain-cell-destroying power of his usual smile.
Because it was dark, they couldn't see much, but could smell the ocean and the warm Baja night air. After twenty minutes, the taxi driver stopped in front of a small hotel done in Spanish tiles and a myriad of wild, lush plants nearly overtaking it.
Inside was small but neat, with more green plants, hanging from the ceiling and the walls. There was a fountain in the middle of the dimly lit lobby, with fish living in the catch pond. Behind the counter sat a teenage boy. His head was slumped in his hands, his eyes at half-mast as he stared at a small-screen TV from which came what looked like a Spanish game show.
Will spoke to him in Spanish, and then handed over some cash. In return he received a card key, and then took Jade's arm, leading her across the tiled floor, making her realize she'd practically fallen asleep on her feet. "Sorry," she murmured.
"Don't be." He didn't say anything else until they'd walked down a hallway and around the corner. There were four rooms at this end, and he opened the last one on the right. The room was tiny with rose-colored paint on the stucco walls, and an eye-dazzling wall hanging in such brilliant colors that it made her wish for sunglasses. There was a postage-size bathroom, a single dresser, and one bed, all neat and equally eye-popping in bright, primary colors.
It made Jade blink. A lot.
"They didn't have two beds in a room," he said quietly, watching her. "And I didn't want you alone. Is this going to be a problem?"
She thought about the one bed, and all they could do on it together. Not trusting her voice, she shook her head.
"Okay, then." He pulled off his shirt and moved into the bathroom as his hands went to the button on his pants.
Galvanized by what the sight of his bare, smoothly muscled physique did to her, she jerked when she heard the shower turn on. Then he poked his head out. "Do you want to go first?"
"Urn . . ." She closed her eyes. "No. You go ahead." She spent the next few moments listening to the water, picturing him long and lean and nude, soaping himself up—
Oh boy. She busied herself pulling the first-aid kit from her pack. She'd have to help him get his wound freshly bandaged—
"Your turn." He stood propping up the doorway, wearing only a towel wrapped around his hips. Hard, lean, chiseled strength, damp and smelling like hotel soap.
For a moment, she just stared at him, and then embarrassed at that, went to move past him, but he reached out and stopped her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears.
Her entire body reacted.
"Jade? You okay?"
"Yep." With a glance back at the single bed, knowing they were both going to be crawling into it, together, she swallowed hard. "I'm okay." She shut the bathroom door.
Ten minutes later she opened it, wrapped in the three remaining towels. Her own personal armor.
His lips curved at the sight of her, but then he frowned and moved toward her. He wore no shoes, no socks, no shirt. . . only a pair of khaki cargo pants,
which were unfastened, and she couldn't take her eyes off him. And because she couldn't, she saw the pain and exhaustion in his eyes. "You're hurting," she accused. "A little."
Her heart broke. Meeting him halfway, she put her hands on his chest, bending in to kiss him just above his wound. "I'm so sorry."
"Jade." His voice was low, rough, as his hand came up and stroked her hair. "You're killing me."
"Me?"
"I made you come here. I made you leave your safe life to do this."
"No. Mario did that. And you're going to put him in jail for it."
"Yeah." With what looked like a bitter grimace, he turned away.
She eyed his long, sleek back, saw the new and terrible tension, and went still. "Right?"
He sank to the bed, combed his wet hair with the fingers of his good hand, his expression tight with misery.
"Will?" She moved closer, until her knees bumped the mattress. "That's why we're here. To put Mario in jail."
He nodded.
Not relieved, she grabbed a new wrap from the first-aid kit on the bed, but he pulled her down beside him. Then slowly shook his head. "But you
should know, I wish I were here for something else entirely."
She stared into his eyes, her heart racing. "And what would that be?"
"I wish I could just kill him."
Jade stared at Will, the wrap forgotten in her hand. "What?" "You heard me."
"But . . . killing Mario, in cold blood . . . that's murder." At the affirmation swimming in his eyes, she swallowed, hard. "You're a DEA agent. Our government agencies don't just kill. They put the bad guys in prison."
He laughed harshly and scrubbed his good hand over his face. "Yeah. Look, it's just what's in my gut. I won't. I can't, not without risking everything, my job, who I am . . . I'm just telling you what I wish I could do."
Shaken, she put her hands in her lap. "That seems harsh for a thief."
"In San Francisco, there's a historical society that funds a traveling museum for antiquities, all historic,
and all priceless. My sister, Wendy, worked there, as a gem specialist. She was . . . sweet and giving. She'd give a perfect stranger the shirt off her back."
A very bad feeling grew within Jade. "You're talking about her in the past tense, Will."
"About four months ago, a new exhibit came in, a priceless exhibit of gems, and she was in charge of cataloging and restoration. At about the same time, she was being charmed senseless by a man."
"Mario."
"He called himself Bennie Martin. But yes, it was Mario. Using her own security against her, he stole the gems, and when she caught him with them, he killed her."
"Oh my God. Oh, Will, I'm so sorry."
"He vanished. This was two months ago. In that time, my sister's name had been dragged through the mud."
"The museum thinks she stole them?"
"Yes. Because she had to have given him her security codes."
"Maybe she didn't do that willingly."
"I know she didn't."
She shivered, thinking of the dangerous temper she'd seen in Tomas's eyes on their last night. It'd scared her, badly, but she hadn't paid with her life. Wendy had. Oh God. She couldn't get past the hollow look in Will's eyes, the utter devastation in his voice, and scooted closer to slide her arms around his waist. He was as rigid as stone, but at her touch, a sigh shuddered out of him, and he set his cheek on her head. "I've been going crazy, Jade. No one can catch him, not the FBI, the cops, no one." He fisted his hands on her back as impotent rage shimmered through him. "I figured if I find him, I find the gems. And when I do, I can clear her name."
"But instead you found me. Whining over my messed-up condo." She choked back a sob. "I'm sorry."
He touched her face, lifted it up. "Jade," he whispered, just that, just her name, and then kissed her. "You might have been next. I thought you might be when I got hit." Remembered fear filled his eyes. "God."
"But I wasn't hurt," she whispered, and not thinking, only reacting to him, his closeness, she leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth to show him.
He hugged her tight. "Inside me. I didn't think anything or anyone could be, but there you are."
She got a glimpse of his eyes, deep and intense and full of things, things that caught her breath, but then his mouth was back on hers, soft and coaxing now. Not gentle, nothing that made her heart trip into her throat like this could be gentle, but she didn't need that. And neither did he. What they needed was to feel alive, needed to feel their hearts thumping, the blood pumping through their veins. Sinking her hands into his wet hair, she murmured his name, her pulse kicking into gear when his hands hauled her onto his lap. "Your arm," she gasped when he pulled off the towel around her wet hair, and then the one around her shoulders.
"You watch my arm." His fingers danced over the edge of the third and last towel, right where it was tucked in between her breasts. "Ill watch you." He tugged and the terry cloth fell away from her body. He let out a rough groan at the sight of her. "Look at you. So small and delicate. Soft." He ran his fingers over her shoulder, her collarbone. "And yet the strongest, bravest woman I've ever met." Bending his head, he bit her jaw, urging her back on the bed as his mouth worked its way down her throat, then to a bared, aching breast. He drew her in, teasing with his teeth, then sucking her in between the roof of his mouth and his tongue, which lashed at her nipple. Long before his hand slid down, past her belly, into her short curls, slowly outlining her, then sinking into her, she was panting his name with every breath.
"You're wet, Jade. Are you wet for me?" He blew a breath over her wet nipple, then nibbled at her other one before kissing a path the way his fingers had gone. Urging her legs wide enough for his shoulders, he lightly bit her inner thigh.
"Will—"
"That's me." Then he kissed her. There.
Her hands gripped the bedding beneath her, seeking purchase in a world gone madly spinning. "Will— God!" She cried out when he sucked her into his mouth, using his tongue, his teeth, his fingers. The trembling began from deep, deep within her, nothing like the usual mild pleasure she obtained from sex. This involved much more than a single sexual organ. It also involved her brain, her heart. Her soul.
"Come," he whispered against her wet flesh. "Come for me, Jade."
