Uncaged Love, page 9
From ten feet away, he looked at her as if she was insane. With a palms-up motion, she mouthed, “Come on.” She slid onto the bed, fluffed a pillow, and sat with her back against the headboard, her bare legs stretched out on top of the duvet.
Harper hoped she looked nonchalant when she picked up a magazine from the floor and flipped a page. Rafe’s kiss still had her belly quaking. “Oh, Rafe, please, please,” she begged in a slow, sultry voice. She pointed to the empty space beside her on the bed.
He rounded the king-sized bed and started to crawl under the covers. She shook her head no, so he lay down beside her. She continued to flip through the magazine, trying to ignore the nearly naked man next to her.
When he said nothing for several long minutes, she leaned over and whispered, “Are you always silent during sex?” She could almost see the light turn on in his head.
In a louder than necessary voice, he said, “You are so beautiful.” He leaned in to kiss her, but she moved away and gave him a warning glance.
“I’ll bet you say that to all your women.” And the thought of Rafe with other women irked her, but she chose to ignore the twinges of jealousy.
“Oh, querida, that feels so good.”
From the other side of the bed, she cocked her head and just looked at him then whispered, “Really? Darling? Is that the best you can do?”
He shrugged.
“Oh, Segundo, there’s so much of you to explore.” She gasped then turned the page of the magazine. Something caught her eye, and she ignored Rafe as she read, or tried to read. She didn’t dare look at him as he held up his side of the imaginary scene with low moans.
Harper felt a poke on her arm. She glared at Rafe with a what-the-fuck look then realized that she had been engrossed with his words while she stared too long at the same page. She mouthed, “Sorry” and claimed loudly, “Oh, Segundo, I want you. Now.” She started bouncing up and down on the bed. He bounced, too.
“Oh, yes, yes, more.” Her demands grew louder as they bounced in unison. “Yes,” she all but screamed and flopped on the pillows with a sigh.
In a quiet voice, she teased, “Was it good for you?” When he smiled, her stomach fluttered. He had the best smile.
* * * *
Rafe liked this playful side of Harper.
“Well, it certainly sounded good for you.” He chuckled quietly.
“If I made love with all those noises, you’d know I was faking it.”
Interesting. He thought back to the women he’d bedded over the years and tried to remember if any of them were loud.
“You’re not a screamer?” He rolled up on his elbow to look at her and propped his chin on his hand.
“No. But we needed it for our performance.” She continued to indifferently flip pages.
She was either good at this, or he was out of practice. He’d never had to fake an intimate relationship before. As much as he wanted her, he wasn’t sure how long he’d last before he had her for real.
“Ready for round two?” He was. Actually, he was ready for round one, but this time he would kiss every inch of her soft skin, open her wet folds and taste how much she wanted him before he slid into her and made her scream his name as she came around his cock.
“Well, Rafael Silva, I’m going to sleep.” The finality in Harper’s voice left no room for debate.
He moved close to her and tried to put his arm around her.
“Get over there.” She pointed to the other side of the bed.
“Can’t we at least cuddle?”
She’d tucked into him earlier in the day, in this very bed. But that was when she’d been sick. Her warm body had spooned perfectly into his.
“No, this is just pretend. If you can’t keep these roles straight, then we’re ending it, right now.” Her words were firm, but the heat in her big brown eyes said she wanted him.
“I can do this,” he said to reassure her as much as himself, and he slipped under the covers on the far side of the king bed. It just wouldn’t be easy with her so close, and him with a raging erection.
He wondered why he was always drawn to strong women like her—those who led a dangerous life. Beth had gone into the Navy Expeditionary Intelligence Command, and after only two years, they’d let her do field work. It was part of the test to see if women could actually work in combat roles. She had gone under in Iraq with another agent as his wife and successfully integrated into the community. That assignment had only lasted a few weeks, more a test than a real mission.
NEIC then loaned her to a joint task force in Afghanistan for the same kind of duty. Some son of a bitch had blown their cover. The Taliban had her for two days before the Marine Raiders arrived only to discover it was a recovery rather than a rescue. They’d brought her maimed body out of the cave while he was in Alaska training with his SEAL team. Her parents were told she’d been in a vehicle when a roadside IED exploded on her side.
Unfortunately, Rafe knew the truth.
Damn, he missed Beth, even after all these years. She and Harper were a lot alike, playful in private and all business when needed. They were both proud of their work and very good at it.
Why the hell was he so attracted to women who worked in the shadows? After Beth’s death, he’d decided he wanted a Southern belle for a wife. A woman more concerned about what to serve at a Junior League luncheon than sharpening her skills in hand-to-hand combat. He needed someone who didn’t know, or care, about the dark world where he worked. Someone who only lived in the light. Someone who wouldn’t die in the darkness.
Love, of course, wouldn’t have anything to do with his marriage. He wanted a family, a wife to come home to, and kids. He liked children and the idea of having his own. Men had married for hundreds of years without love being involved. He’d do the same so he’d never have to suffer the pain of losing the love of his life.
Just before daybreak, Rafe gave up on the idea of sleep. He’d tossed and turned for hours. It wasn’t possible for him, knowing he could reach out and find a beautiful woman he wanted under the same soft sheets, but he couldn’t touch her.
He’d promised the deputy director she’d be healthy enough to leave. Maybe he should wake her up and make her sweat beside him in the gym since she wouldn’t let him show her how much fun sweating in bed could be.
In the gray light of early morning, Harper looked so tired, her eyes shadowed from lack of deep sleep. She’d been sick most of the previous day. He’d let her sleep so her body could recover.
Rafe rolled off the bed and quietly slipped out the door in search of the guards.
Chapter 11
At nine-thirty, Harper still wasn’t up when Rafe entered the big house and asked the staff for her location. He’d already checked the day’s production schedule, examined the crops, got the workers started, and been ribbed by a dozen men about the American woman. Their ploy had worked.
“You wore her out last night. I heard her scream for you.” The older guard on duty outside Harper’s room slapped Rafe on the shoulder with a proud smile.
Rafe remembered Harper’s explanation of screams during sex and wondered if the guard’s women had faked it also. He examined the lined face, prematurely aged by drugs. Probably.
“You come back for more? Morning sex is good for a man,” the guard said with a chuckle.
Rafe stopped short on his way through the door. With an effort, he controlled his contempt. He was playing a role, and he had to make it look good. He dug deep to find a convincing tone.
“I’ve got this. Leave.” Rafe closed the door behind him. Harper stirred, but he could tell she was asleep, not pretending. The cocaine reaction had taken a lot out of her. Several empty water bottles sat on the nightstand. Good. She was smart to push fluids.
“Harper.” He leaned over her. She needed to get up and moving. They’d go running later and maybe hit the gym. Sweating the remainder of the poisons out of her gorgeous body would be the best thing for her.
He reached down and shook her shoulder.
“Mmmm,” she moaned. Great, now she moans for me. He leaned so his lips were an inch from her ear.
“Harper. You need to wake up now. It’s late morning. Time you were out of bed.”
She arched her back and exposed her neck to his lips as if to beg for a kiss.
Oh, how he wanted to press his lips into her neck and kiss his way down the rest of her body. But this was all pretend. She was deeply asleep, and he couldn’t take advantage of her.
He smacked her butt and said, “Time to get up, darlin’.”
She rolled away from him and pulled the covers up. Had he stayed in that bed, she’d be cuddled up against him right now. Damn. He could all but feel those soft curves gliding up against him. He was half-hard at the mental picture.
It had been a long time since he’d slept the whole night with a woman. Well, he’d awakened with Melina many times, and yes, they’d had sex. But it was usually after they’d worked a black op all night, stealing data from the Cali Cartel’s computers or observing a high-level meeting or following someone to see the newest connection. So many bad things happened in the dark of night, it was no wonder they called it the shadow world.
There had been a time in his life when he loved waking up next to the woman he’d shared his body with for hours. He and Beth had lived together for nearly a year after he’d finished BUD/S and she’d completed indoctrination into NEIC. It had been the best year of his life. But it all ended right after his twenty-fifth birthday. Hell. It had been eight years. A lifetime ago.
Many other women had passed through his life since then. He’d mourned for over a year until his best friend, Mat Rivas a.k.a. Preacher, had taken him out on three days of binge drinking and fucking women after they’d wiped out the cell responsible for Beth’s death. His last years as a SEAL were a repeated cycle of successful missions and celebrating their return alive.
He’d moved on from that life and into this one as watchdog over Carlos Narváez. Rafe had always planned on a career in the Navy until time came to re-up. Rafe remembered with clarity the clandestine meeting where the senior CIA agent had spouted continued duty to their country, the fact that only he could get close to Carlos and how all he’d have to do was report in.
Even Rafe had been surprised when Carlos had bought into his cover story. Disgruntled as a SEAL, constantly putting his life on the line for a thankless country that had allowed his fiancée to be captured and killed because the U.S.A. doesn’t negotiate with terrorists. It was logical and, at times, seemed almost too real. Convincing his old friend he wanted to help make Colombia—the country of his parents’ birth—a better place by instigating all those plans they’d created as idealistic college boys was easy.
Rafe had been welcomed with open arms. They’d soon fallen into the close camaraderie of their college years. At first, he’d hated deceiving Carlos, but then he saw the good things the two of them could do. They had torn out coca plants and replaced them with flowers and vegetables. Together they introduced twenty-first century farming techniques, not just on Narváez land, but in the surrounding communities. Small farmers began growing more and making more money, improving their lifestyle. The legitimate side of Carlos’s business boomed.
Like too many others, though, Carlos had let success go to his head. He started personally testing his cocaine products and the slide downward was swift. The last two years were a totally different story. Carlos had become as corrupt as the rest. He used the overpowering aroma of the flowers to mask the cocaine hidden underneath from U.S. Customs Inspectors. The good Narváez name of his father as former Ambassador was used too many times to cover the laundering of drug money. His focus had been diverted to criminal business endeavors…now even kidnapping.
All that would end soon. Within hours, that chapter would also close. Rafe couldn’t wait.
It was time to fulfill his original dreams, to find a woman to sleep with all through the night. But it wouldn’t be the woman curled on the bed in front of him. Harper’s job was too dangerous; she could be taken from him too easily. No. He’d never again give his heart to a woman with such a perilous job. But he’d sure as hell share his body with her, over and over again.
Rafe slid onto the bed and curled up beside her. “Harper,” he whispered into her ear as his fingertips moved a pesky strand of hair from her face. “You either get out of this bed, or I’m getting into it then into you.”
Her eyes shot open, but she remained still for a few seconds before she rolled over. They were nose to nose.
“If you ever attempt to rape me, I’ll cut off your dick and stuff it down your throat. Then I’ll shove your balls up your ass with my fist. When you beg me with your eyes, I’ll finally kill you. One shot. Right here.” She touched the middle of his forehead.
“I like it when you talk dirty.” He smiled, and she looked a little frustrated.
“Sharing my body is not part of my work. I don’t have sex while on the job. This is all pretend. Keep that straight. Now, get the hell out of my bed. I’m getting up.” She shoved his shoulder.
Damn. She had guts. And he liked that. It took a lot, but Rafe stood and stepped away. He knew she would carry through on her threat. She was more than capable. But he’d glimpsed, just for a second, that undeniable desire. He wanted to wrap himself in her heat and make them both explode.
“So you never have sex as part of the work.” It was a statement not a question. “What about after the work is done? I’m sure Harper Tambini has sex.”
“You’ll never know,” she quipped as she slid out of bed and headed for the bathroom.
Rafe stepped into her path. He slowly, gently, cupped her smooth face in his hands.
“I think if you got to know me, the real me, you’d see I’m a lovable guy.” He wanted her, but he also wanted her to know the real Rafe, the man who’d served his country for the past five years and hated every minute of his life as Segundo.
Rafe watched her large fawn eyes soften briefly as she saw him for the man he was underneath the hard-ass exterior. Then they were hard as topaz again.
“Harper Tambini, the ATF agent, is here now.” Slowly, a seductive smile crossed her goddess-like face. “When we’re out of Colombia and safe, maybe you can meet Harper Tambini, the woman. She loves men. Often.”
He thought he felt the brush of her lips as she turned her face into the palm of his hand before she stepped around him. It was so light he couldn’t be sure. When she shut the door to the bathroom behind her, he closed his fist as if to hold her touch.
Accepting that he couldn’t join her in the shower, he headed for the kitchen to have the staff send up a light breakfast for her. Even though he and Harper had to meet Narváez in just under two hours for lunch on the terrace, she needed food, now.
* * * *
Harper really liked the red sundress smattered with gardenias and wedged white sandals that showed off her darkly tanned skin. Like the other clothes in her room, these seemed to have magically appeared when she needed them. Although, it was creepy if Narváez had actually picked them out for her. They were so close to her personal taste and always the right size.
As she descended the stairs, exactly on time, she knew the men watched her every move. She could feel their hungry stares hidden behind dark Oakley sunglasses. The dress hugged her ribs and breasts, but the scooped neckline was lower than one she would usually prefer for a luncheon because it revealed several inches of cleavage.
Rafe sat in a sturdy wrought iron chair with green padded cushions and sipped what looked like thick lemonade from a tall cut-crystal glass. His seemingly endless legs were clad in khaki cargo pants and crossed casually at the ankles. A brilliantly white safari shirt fit loosely over well-developed muscles, and his dark brown hair curled just below the collar.
He was mouthwatering.
When he threw her a heated smile, her icy shield thawed at the same time she pulled her cloak of professionalism around her to stave off Carlos Narváez.
The two men chatted amiably about the crops as she drew near. Narváez filled the oversized chair across the round table from Rafe while Bunny flitted between the table and sideboard, ceaselessly fussing at the staff.
Narváez gestured to the seat next to him, but Harper wasn’t going to give him the first point in this game. She chose the chair beside Rafe and pulled it even closer to him. When he draped his arm across the back and stroked her bare arm possessively, she didn’t even try to withhold the shiver.
“So, the rumor is true, Segundo.” One side of Narváez’s mouth quirked up. “You have claimed Harper as yours.”
“We’re enjoying each other’s company,” Rafe replied.
It was true enough. She had enjoyed being with him, especially at supper last night. Their rapid changes of topics with shared and opposing points of view had been quite entertaining.
“Harper, did you sleep well?” The other man asked with a mocking smile.
“Of course.” Harper casually laid a hand on Rafe’s thigh. “I slept in late this morning. I’m afraid the drug reaction has kicked my ass.”
“And what a pretty little ass it is,” Narváez missed the envious green darts Bunny threw at him from the sideboard where she arranged fruit on a hand-painted plate.
Maggie appeared with a bottle of cold water and set it next to a chilled glass. Harper quietly thanked her and gave her a genuine smile which was quickly replaced by a contemptuous grimace as she watched Narváez’s gaze follow the small girl who retreated to the kitchen. “Is your personal maid taking good care of you?”
“She’s doing very well.” Harper resented the way he’d looked at Maggie. She was a good kid. Harper would kill Narváez before she’d allow him to touch the young girl and ruin her life.
“Excellent.” He turned his head back toward Harper who chose that moment to admire the garden that surrounded them.
“Your gardener should be commended.” She needed a benign topic before she lit into the cartel capo. “He put a lot of thought into the design. I like how he hid the walls of the compound with the vibrant red climbing roses then contrasted them with the bright yellow sunflowers. The ponds are a clever way to water the orchids. There must be a dozen different varieties. The colors are magnificent and show off so well against the green of the dieffenbachia.”
