Worth the Risk: A Contemporary Romance Bundle, page 58
She was there to relax, she reminded herself. To get her mind off the way it had felt to have her partner’s brains blasted all over her face. She shook her head fiercely as she punched the key into the lock and let herself into the room. Don’t think about that. Not here. She’d talk about it in her therapy session scheduled with Dr. Marge for just after lunch tomorrow.
Right now, she’d pretend she was just here on a regular vacation.
She shut and locked the door, then put a chair beneath the knob out of long habit. She wasn’t wearing a piece and hadn’t brought one—regulations prohibited any of the agents from bringing weapons. She missed the gun and yet didn’t at the same time. It was like she was missing part of herself, but she was relieved not to have to worry about it.
Shower. Then bed. And, if she was lucky, no dreams.
Kendall pulled the dress off over her head, hung it carefully in the closet, and padded to the luxurious shower. “Ah.” The sound of pure pleasure burst from her throat at the sight. “There’d better be plenty of hot water.”
She turned the shower on as hot as she could stand it, then ducked beneath the spray. Four different jets pounded her flesh while a wide head rained water from directly above her, and two more sprinkled her from the sides. She played with the controls for a minute and was rewarded by the hiss of steam that rapidly began to fill the enclosure. With a sigh of relief so great it puffed a hole in the steam on the glass, Kendall sank onto the wide bench and stretched out.
The bench was long enough she could lie down on it if she wanted. Now, there was a thought. Whoever had designed this shower must certainly have planned its use for more than one occupant at a time. It was just too damned decadent for only one person.
She sighed again as the water pounded and kneaded her. She was the only one here, but that was something she was used to by now. If she waited for a man to fulfill her, she’d be a dried-up old maid before she got laid.
Kendall shifted a little on the bench and parted her knees. The water from one of the jets began to beat directly against her clit. The pressure was too intense, and she moved back a bit…ahh. There. Right there. The water thrummed on her with enough pressure to bring her to full arousal, but not quite enough to get her off.
She reached up and pulled the washcloth from its hook. A squirt of liquid soap came next. She coated herself in the foam, stroking herself in small, circular motions that soon had her pressing against the swirling circles of her fingers. The steam writhed around her like a phantom lover.
Kendall moaned her pleasure and lifted her hips again toward the beating jet. The water washed away all the soap and had her clit throbbing so close to orgasm, she saw bright sparks in front of her eyes. It was enough, but not enough. This would make her come, but it wouldn’t finish her.
She moved away from the water, allowing her arousal to plateau. What she really needed was a man inside her and above her. Vincent’s face flashed in her mind and brought a spasm to her clit. She got up from the bench and switched the water to cold. Time to cool herself down, especially if she was thinking of him in that way.
The cold water didn’t turn her off. On the contrary, it got her blood flowing and her pussy throbbing even harder. She turned away from the spray needling her nipples to aching hardness and put a hand on the shower wall. Her other hand found the swollen knob of her clitoris. Head down, pounded by the spray, she slipped a finger inside herself, then another, while she used the heel of her palm to push on her clit.
Her body was on fire. Her thighs shook with the force of her impending climax. It wasn’t enough. She was faint with the desire she’d brought upon herself, but she wanted more. Again, his face flashed in her head, and she cursed aloud.
She shut off the water and grabbed a towel. The thick fabric soaked up the water immediately. As she patted herself between the legs, another small spasm racked her. It was sweet torture, pleasuring herself like this. She could make the moment last forever, but knew that when it was over, she’d feel relaxed but unfulfilled.
A double-edged sword. One more stroke, maybe only two, and her body would shatter and rejoin in the ecstasy of climax. Make it last a little longer, and she’d come harder. But when it was over…she’d still have to go to sleep alone.
Kendall tucked her towel securely beneath her arms and went outside. It was like being kissed instantly, all over, by a dozen mouths. She went to the low brick wall that surrounded the patio and leaned against it to look toward the beach. She could catch only a glimpse of white sand through the thick foliage, but she could hear the constant beat of the waves, and that reminded her of the way the water had beat on her clit.
Her arousal had lessened in the few minutes she’d spent leaving the shower, but she was still close enough to climax with just a few well-timed strokes. She bent over the wall, aware of the way the towel rode up on her thighs, and allowed the cool night air to caress her there. She spread her legs a little to allow it better access. The coarse bricks scraped her skin a bit, but that only added to the sensations.
She spread her fingers on the brick and tilted her pelvis forward to catch her swollen clit on the thick terrycloth towel. It was tantalizing, that brush of soft fabric against her nub. Slickness coated her thighs as she moved again, so slightly nobody would know what she was doing if they were…
Watching her.
She smelled his cologne just before the bright red flare of light caught the corner of her vision, and she smelled smoke. With a gasp, Kendall whirled so fast her towel slid off her breasts. She caught it with one hand and pulled it up. A corner of the thick fabric caught between her thighs, and the movement against her center sent a slow, hot wave of contractions through her.
Oh, God, she was going to come, and she couldn’t stop it. She was going to come in front of…
“Vincent!” she cried. “What the hell are you doing here?”
She gripped the wall and willed herself not to shake, not to moan, not to let him know exactly what was happening. Her body had taken over. Her clit pounded and she felt the heat of it on her chest and throat. Her vision blurred and swam as her desire rushed through her, as she came in front of him, helplessly.
He paused before answering. The moon had risen and outlined his form in glimmers of silver against the black silhouette. The tip of his cigarette glowed red in harsh contrast as he inhaled.
“A pipe burst in my room. This was the only room left. They moved me after dinner.”
Kendall swayed as if drunk, still caught in the aftermath of her orgasm. Her clit throbbed mercilessly. She took a deep breath and pulled the towel closer around her and willed her voice not to shake.
“What are you doing out here?”
“Smoking a cigarette.” She couldn’t see his face, but the amusement in his voice was plain. “What are you doing?”
He couldn’t know. Could he? The thought should have mortified her, but instead another thrill coursed through her body at the idea Zane Vincent might have figured out she’d been climaxing.
“I like the noise of the ocean,” Kendall said. Her voice had gone low and husky, throaty, quite unlike her usual tone. “It makes me feel…”
“What?” His voice, if it were possible, had dropped even lower. Vincent shifted in his patch of moonlight, and a spear of silver highlighted his full lips. Another slanted across his deep brown eyes, turning them to copper for an instant in the flash. “Makes you feel sexy?”
Kendall turned away, her heart thudding. She sought the glimpse of the sea, tried to calm herself, but her body was betraying her. She felt his gaze boring into her like flames licking at her flesh, but she refused to turn and look.
“That’s kind of personal, Agent Vincent.”
His deep chuckle vibrated in her belly. Kendall allowed herself to think of him as a man, just for a second. Not as the agent who’d shot her partner.
Vincent snorted softly. “Hey, I was just out here minding my own business when you came sashaying out in that little bit of cloth that’s an excuse for a towel.”
She stepped closer to the safety of the golden square of light spilling out from her doors. “A gentleman would’ve turned away.”
“I’m not a gentleman.” Vincent gave another deep, sultry chuckle. “I’m a secret agent.”
Kendall couldn’t help it. She laughed. Her reaction surprised her enough that she laughed a little more. Why had she hated him so much before?
“See, now I made you smile.” Vincent tossed the cigarette to the ground, where its red tip continued to smolder.
She raised a brow. “You say that like you think I don’t know how.”
Another breeze stroked her face as she watched him. It seemed incredible that only moments ago she’d been in the midst of orgasm, and now she stood talking as though nothing had happened.
“Agent Frasier, I know you’re upset about what went down that day.” For a minute, Vincent’s dark brown eyes looked almost black in the moonlight. “You think it’s any easier for me? I killed a man. One of our own. How do you think I feel?”
His sincerity took her aback. “Like shit, I expect.”
“Worse than that.”
She looked at him harder. “You were exonerated of all charges. Four witnesses testified you weren’t at fault.”
“But not you.” Vincent shrugged. “You were his partner.”
“Not a very good one. I should’ve had his back. I didn’t. He died.” She shrugged, too aware of the way the motion made her towel ride up on her thighs.
“You must miss him.”
That statement made a short, sharp laugh burst from her throat. “Dan? He was a mean-spirited son of a bitch who made my life miserable. He was a misogynistic, chauvinistic pig who thought women could never do half the job men could. I spent all my time with him defending myself against his digs, trying to convince him I was as competent as he was. That I could do the job. Working with him was like its own special level of Hell. He was awful.”
And she’d been awful too, she realized. Blaming Vincent for what she knew had been as much her fault as anyone’s. They stared at each other in silence. He lit another cigarette and held it for a moment, just looking at it without putting it to his mouth. When he did, the smoke hit the moonlight and wreathed him in silver.
“So, Frasier, how’s that make you feel?”
“Like shit,” Kendall said.
“Worse than if you’d been friends.”
“You say that like you know.” Kendall paused. “Was he your friend?”
Vincent shook his head. “Dan? No. The way you just described him was pretty much the way everyone thought of him. He was a shit, but he didn’t deserve to be killed. And I did that. I was the one who shot him. I thought…I figured I was better than that.”
“It was an accident,” Kendall said abruptly. “You didn’t do it on purpose. Dan...he walked into that bullet because he was being an asshole who wouldn’t listen to me. I didn’t stop him, and you couldn’t have.”
Silence as he studied her. “Does that make it any better?”
She knew it didn’t, just as understanding that she couldn’t have stopped it didn’t make her feel any less guilty. “No. I guess it doesn’t. We’re trained to think we can handle all that stuff, and when it goes wrong…when it goes bad…”
“Dan was trained too. If he’d listened to you instead of blowing you off because you’re a woman, he might not have died.” Vincent drew in smoke. Let it out. “I’m sorry, Frasier. It shouldn’t have happened.”
“But it did.”
He nodded. “But maybe now, we can try to be friends.”
Friends? Kendall watched him walk back into his room. Somehow, she didn’t think that was what they would become.
Chapter 3
She woke the next morning, still restless. Her dreams had been haunted by the sight of warm, full lips, deep chocolate eyes and strongly muscled arms. Twice in the night she’d woken to the pulse-beat pounding of her clit throbbing on the verge of orgasm, and each time, sleep had been slow to return.
There were worse things to dream about, she admitted reluctantly as she showered, quickly this time, and dressed. Her body and her mind were in cahoots, trying to find a way to get past the bad memories and guilt. This tropical isle and the handsome man next door were a double whammy no sane woman could be expected to ignore…but ignore it she’d have to. She was here to relax and recover so she’d be fit for duty—not get down and dirty with a guy who, until yesterday, she’d loathed.
Kendall pulled on a summery dress over her bathing suit. She added a large straw bag, sunglasses, sunscreen and a hat, along with a pair of rubber flip-flops. After her morning physical and health tests, she meant to hit the beach and stay there all day. At the last minute, she tucked her iPad, loaded with several new books and a couple movies she’d been wanting to see forever, into the bag. She was set.
She didn’t see Vincent at breakfast and tried to pretend unsuccessfully to herself that she wasn’t looking for him. Afterward, she made her way to the medical office, where a white uniformed nurse checked Kendall so thoroughly she felt like a prized racehorse up for inspection.
“…thyroid, white count and every STD imaginable, including HIV.” The nurse gave Kendall a grin. “Guess they think you agents lead a more exciting life than you do. At least in some areas.”
Kendall laughed, even though her arms felt like they’d become pincushions from all the blood the nurse had drawn. “Sadly, no. But when will I find out the results?”
The nurse glanced at the clock. “These will be run before noon today. You can find out by the day after tomorrow, I think, for most of them.”
Kendall nodded. “Thanks.”
“Going to the beach? It’s a nice day for it.” The nurse smiled. “’Course, most days here are.”
Now she’d just have to do as well on her psych eval. Kendall rolled her eyes mentally as she passed Dr. Marge’s closed office door. From within, she heard the deep rumble of voices, incoherent but somehow familiar. Vincent?
She paused and looked both ways down the short hall. Nobody coming. Knowing it was stupid, but unable to help her curiosity, she leaned her ear against the door. The voices grew louder, but no more distinct. She had just enough time to jump back as the door opened.
She looked like an idiot, but Dr. Marge didn’t seem to notice. “Hello, Kendall.”
Vincent gave Kendall a look that said he knew exactly what she’d been doing. Damn, what is it about that man that can look right through me? Kendall gave the doctor a bright, false smile.
“Hi, Dr. Marge.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, same time, Zane.” Dr. Marge smiled at Kendall. “And I’ll see you later this afternoon.”
Right in the middle of beach time. Kendall grimaced. “Looking forward to it.”
The doctor disappeared back into her office and left Kendall and Vincent to stare at each other. Kendall nodded at him quickly and took off down the hall. Vincent followed her at a casual, loping pace that nonetheless kept him close to her.
“What’s on your agenda for today, Frasier?”
She stopped at the door to the courtyard. “Going to the beach. You?”
He rolled his head from side to side and cracked his neck. “Maybe the same.”
“Well, maybe I’ll see you there.” Kendall put her hand on the door, hesitant to push it open. Waiting for him to say…
“Give me a few minutes, and I’ll go with you.”
She had to keep her face turned to keep from showing him the way her mouth couldn’t keep from smiling. She forced herself into composure. “Who said I wanted you?”
He ducked around to look at her, his hand over his heart as though she’d wounded him. “Ouch.”
“It’s a big beach,” she said with studied casualness. “I guess there’s room, even for someone with a head as big as yours.”
“You’re never going to give me a break, are you, Frasier?” Vincent shook his head at her.
Again, she had to force herself not to grin. “Nope.”
He pushed open the door and motioned her through. “I’ll let you sit in front of me. You’ll be in the shade from my huge head.”
Now she had to let loose a laugh at his self-deprecating humor. “C’mon, Vincent. We’re wasting prime beach time.”
He took only a few moments in his room to change into black swimming trunks. In contrast to Kendall’s baggage, Vincent carried only a towel and a bottle of oil. He stopped at the pool bar to grab them both icy cold bottles of water, and then they hit the beach.
The chairs were rickety and the umbrellas had all seen better days. Kendall led the way to a prime patch of beach close to the gently lapping waves, where she laid out her towel and settled down with her iPad. In moments, she’d engrossed herself in the story.
“You’re supposed to be on vacation. Put that away.”
“I’m reading,” she told him, and tilted the unit to show him the lines of text. She thumbed the screen and the book’s cover showed up.
“Second Chance at Forever,” Vincent read aloud. “Nice cover.”
She looked at the cover photo of a bare male torso with a bowtie around its neck. “The hero is an exotic dancer.”
“Never pegged you for the type of woman to read those trashy novels.”
She arched a brow at him. “Have you ever read a romance novel, Vincent?”
“Can’t say I’m a fan, no. I like my sex scenes in real life, not on paper.” He laughed and pulled the cap off his bottle of oil.
“If by real life you mean Pay-Per-View and Saturday late-night soft-core movies on Cinemax…”
Vincent gaped at her for a moment, then shook his head. “Damn, Frasier, you know how to shoot a guy down.”
Kendall chuckled. “You’re too easy to get riled up.”
