Clint woke slowly, aware that something wasn’t quite right. He felt strangely at peace, but then, he’d just had a very restful sleep for the first time in ages. Usually, personal demons plagued him the moment he closed his eyes. But last night, his dreams had been darkly erotic rather than full of menace.
Predictably enough, he had morning wood. He also had his arms full of woman—a slight, pain-in-the-ass woman who had factored into those sexy dreams in a big way.
Against his closed eyelids, Clint detected sunlight coming through the curtains.
Almost at the same time, he felt Julie Rose’s body shift against his. Her scent, spicier after the warmth of being cuddled all night, filled his head. Cautiously, he opened one eye.
She wasn’t asleep now.
No, Julie Rose was half propped up over him, and she had the top of the covers in her fingertips, lifting, so she could look beneath. At him.
She stared at his lap.
Well. Considering his state, the little darling got an eyeful. Clint didn’t know if he should laugh, groan, or take her to her back and kiss her silly.
In a voice still rough and froggy, he whispered, “Hey.”
After a small startled yelp, Julie dropped the covers and twisted to face him. “You’re awake.”
“Guilty.” He didn’t move. He had one arm behind his head, the other under Julie’s waist, and his legs were slightly parted. Her hair was a mess, going every which way, more out of her braids than in, and her cheeks were rosy, her eyes still heavy from sleep.
She looked good. Damn good. Like a woman who’d just been fucked hard—and enjoyed it.
Though his heart pounded in heavy beats, Clint merely watched her, waiting to see if she’d make excuses for what she’d been doing.
She cleared her throat. “I guess you caught me.”
“Is that right?”
Mouth going a little crooked in chagrin, she admitted, “I was sneaking a peek.”
That threw him for only a moment; she was too damn honest for her own good. “No kidding?” He half smiled. “I never would have guessed.”
She watched him so intently, Clint felt naked. She cleared her throat again. “I should apologize, I suppose.”
Clint shrugged.
For a few seconds, she worried her bottom lip, then huffed out a breath. “I’ve never seen anyone as impressive as you, so I was curious. I woke up, but you were still asleep, and the covers were sort of tented…”
“I do understand.” He cleared his throat. “No big deal.”
“Is that a sexual pun?” Then, before he could reply to that, though God knew he had no idea what to say, she added, “You have some scars.”
She said it as if confiding a secret. “I know.”
Her cool fingertips touched the side of his nose, moved to his eyebrow, his chin.
Uncomfortable with her tender touch, Clint felt compelled to explain. “I broke my nose twice fighting. The second time I didn’t bother going to the doc. I just put it back in place myself. It shows.”
Julie touched his nose again. Her eyes were big and dark and velvety. “It looks fine. You have a strong, handsome nose.”
It was crooked as hell, and they both knew it.
“How’d you get this scar on your eyebrow?”
“A kick. It split the skin.”
“Ouch.” She trailed her fingers over his upper lip, making him a little nuts. “And this one?”
Her voice went husky and deep, and Clint wanted to take her fingers in his mouth, suck on them a little, tease her a lot…but he didn’t want her keeling over on him again.
“Why do you ask?” His voice was rougher now, too, and it had nothing to do with sleep because, thanks to Julie Rose, he was wide awake.
“Aren’t most women curious?”
Clint shook his head. “No. Fact is, no other woman’s come right out and asked me about my scars.”
“Really?” She seemed genuinely surprised by that. “Why not?”
She stared at his armpit while asking that question, confounding Clint. “I suppose they wanted to get laid and didn’t want to offend me.”
Her gaze softened. She reached out, trailed her fingertips over the exposed underside of his arm, along his biceps down, then dropped her hand. “Am I offending you?”
“Look at me when you talk to me, Julie Rose.”
She took her time obeying that order, allowing her gaze to linger on his upper arm, his chest, his throat, and finally his face.
Clint sank deeper by the second. Convictions, even honor, faded beneath a fusion of lust and caring. He shouldn’t touch her. But God how he wanted to. “Just what the hell’s going on here, Julie Rose?”
Her expression turned prim. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yeah, you do. Last night you were shaken, so I stayed with you. But I was careful not to get too familiar. I was careful not to offend you. After everything you’ve been through, I know the last thing you want is my attention.”
Her brows drew down. “I like your attention.”
The woman could learn a little discretion. Her upfront honesty wasn’t making this any easier for him. “I mean my sexual attention, Julie Rose.” She continued to watch him, so Clint made it real plain. “You don’t want me coming on to you, grabbing at you, or trying to get in your pants—”
“I’m not wearing pants.”
“You think I haven’t noticed that?” Christ, she was going to make one comment too many, and he’d lose it. He couldn’t be more aware of her slim bare legs, or the fact that no more than a nightshirt and panties shielded her.
“I don’t want to be grabbed.”
Of course she didn’t. Clint tried to hide his frustration because grabbing her right now seemed like one hell of an idea. At least it did to his less-logical body parts; his brain knew she wasn’t ready for that yet. Hell, he wasn’t ready for it, either. He never, ever, got physically involved with the women he rescued.
Up till now, that resolution hadn’t been a big deal because truthfully, up till now, until Julie Rose, he hadn’t even wanted to.
Now he did. In a big way.
He was trying to convince himself to let it go when she said, “I like when you touch me, though.” Her hand opened on his chest. “And I like touching you, too. You’re solid and safe and very warm.”
A man could only take so much, Clint told himself, and she more than begged for it.
She pulled the covers down, farther and farther until the top of his boxers showed, leaving his abdomen—rigid with restraint—on display. “What about this scar?” Her small, soft hand, cool against his fevered skin, traced the scar that ran from his ribs to his hipbone.
Strangling on his own lust, Clint growled, “A knife wound.”
“I’m sorry. It looks so painful.”
Pain was lying in bed with Julie Rose while she innocently checked him out. But at least her comment gave him a different path for his thoughts. “Might’ve hurt at the time, I don’t remember.” All he really remembered was pure, red-hot rage that the weasel he’d confronted had dared to pull a blade on him. Clint had lost his temper, and his control. He’d beat the man so badly that he’d spent well over a week in the hospital before he could be questioned by the cops for domestic violence.
It was the case that had nearly ruined Clint, and not just professionally.
His morbid thoughts got shattered when Julie lowered her head and lightly brushed her lips over the old wound. She’d put herself into a damned suggestive position, with her head over his lap, her lips way too damn close to where he’d really like them to be.
His imagination had no problem picturing the covers and his boxers long gone.
Her silky, lopsided braid trailed over his skin, and her breath was about the most erotic thing he’d felt in too many months.
Fighting the urge to take her, right here, right now, he stiffened.
Julie lifted her head. Her cheeks were flushed and she skimmed her tongue over her lips, as if tasting him. “Did I hurt you?”
God, she looked as turned on as he felt. “No.” Her hair was more out of the braid than in, and Clint tucked a long hank of brown silk behind her ear. “You didn’t hurt me.”
“Then do you mind if I kiss you?”
Ah, hell. That did it. Forget his self-made rules. Forget caution. One little kiss couldn’t hurt, right? It wasn’t like he’d let things get out of hand.
It wasn’t like he’d strip her naked and crawl between her slim thighs and sink into her…No. He wouldn’t do that.
His mind made up, Clint leisurely brought his arms down so that he could clasp her waist. “Come here, Julie Rose.”
She stilled, but when Clint eased her over his chest, she didn’t fight him. Her legs tangled with his. Her soft belly flattened against his boner.
All breathy and excited and maybe even hopeful, she whispered, “What are you going to do?”
Slowly shaking his head, Clint said, “Not a thing. But you’re going to kiss me.” When he had her settled atop him, he released her and stacked both his hands behind his head so she wouldn’t feel threatened or overwhelmed, and so he wouldn’t get carried away.
No matter how badly he needed her, he wouldn’t allow himself to forget what she’d been through. He wouldn’t let himself forget that he’d been hired to rescue her, or that he’d only known her a few hours.
Julie breathed hard. “I was already kissing you.”
“Try kissing me on the mouth.”
Her chest rose and fell with her uneven breaths.
“Come on,” Clint taunted. “You know you want to.”
Julie licked her lips. “I do, but…This isn’t very proper.”
And sneaking a peek at his boner while he slept was? He didn’t voice that thought because he didn’t want to embarrass her. Instead he said, “So? I heard you weren’t all that proper anyway.”
Her face paled at what she saw as an insult, even as her eyes darkened with anger. She was such an intriguing contradiction.
“Who told you that?” Julie demanded, stiffening her arms so that she loomed above him.
“Robert?”
“Yeah.” Julie Rose might be a spinsterish schoolteacher, but when she got riled, she bloomed with passion.
“And you believed him?”
“No.” Clint wanted to kiss the sour expression off her face. “Your friend Bobby is a liar and a cheat, and you’re better off without him. But you, Julie Rose, have this mischievous twinkle in your eyes that tells me you enjoy being a rebel every now and then.”
“Oh.” Her expression softened, and a nervous smile appeared. She leaned down and kissed him very gently. “That’s true.”
“I know.”
She stared at his mouth. “I was thinking…”
“About?”
“About the plans I’d made.”
So now she wanted to talk instead of kiss? Fickle woman. “What plans might those be?”
Her gaze lifted to his. “I wanted to start living, to make up for lost time and have fun and just be me.”
Lord help him. “Is that right?”
“Yes. I recently resigned from my job at a stuffy private school and signed on at a public school in Visitation, North Carolina. It’s much more…stimulating.”
He had a feeling the last thing Julie Rose needed was more stimulation.
“I was in the process of looking for a place to live there, away from relatives and people who knew me in only one way.”
“As a prim and proper schoolteacher?”
“Exactly. I was going to really cut loose and do all the things I’d never had a chance to do.”
“Then you got kidnapped?” Clint wondered if the two were related, if her plans for a new lifestyle had left someone—maybe good old Robert—feeling threatened.
“Yes.” She looked at his mouth again and leaned a little closer.
Clint didn’t know if she planned to give him another chaste kiss or the killer kind he craved.
“Jamie warned me that things would happen, that I should be careful. But I didn’t believe him.”
That bald statement had Clint scowling. He turned his head before her mouth could meet his. “Jamie? Who the hell is Jamie? Another man in your life?”
“Jamie Creed.” She caught his face and held him still, then kissed him, a little longer this time but still with closed lips, a nice, tidy, dry kiss when what he wanted was the wet, deep kind, with a lot of tongue play and some moaning thrown in.
But this was her show, and he’d go at her pace if it killed him.
She lifted her head and sighed. “Jamie isn’t really in anyone’s life. He’s something of a hermit, very withdrawn and mysterious. He lives up on this tall mountain in Visitation.”
Disgusted, both with his escalating need and the admiration in her tone, Clint said, “You sound smitten.”
“Most of the women who meet Jamie are. But truthfully, he scares me a little. Jamie often knows things before they happen. He definitely knew about my kidnapping.”
Clint’s muscles pulled tight. “The hell you say? Maybe I should talk to him.”
“It wouldn’t do you any good. Jamie can’t be intimidated, and he can’t give iron details.”
With evil relish, Clint said, “I could make him give details.”
She patted his chest, then began smoothing her hand over his left pectoral muscle. “Down, boy. It’s not like that. Jamie’s a good man. A kind man. He’s just very different.”
“Different how?” If she didn’t stop stroking him, Clint wouldn’t be able to stay in control.
“He has feelings—like premonitions or visions—about things.”
“And he had a premonition about you?”
She nodded. “He warned me, but I didn’t listen. I didn’t want to listen because I’d just broken things off with Robert and I’d made the decision to start living the way I wanted.”
“What about your Uncle Drew?”
She put both hands on him, feeling his skin, her fingers tunneling into his chest hair. “I told him to keep his stupid money.”
“Your money.”
She shrugged. “Whatever. He uses it to try to control me, and I can’t stand that anymore.”
“No,” Clint agreed, and he could have sworn he felt his heart actually softening. “You wouldn’t like being controlled.”
“I don’t want money that’s doled out to me like I’m a child. I get by on my teacher’s salary, and the rest just isn’t important. Not to me.”
He believed her. As to everything else she’d said…He decided he’d meet this Jamie Creed fellow and draw his own conclusions about what he knew and what he divined—what bull crap—before he let Julie go.
And thinking of letting her go…Clint lifted a brow. “Are you going to kiss me the way you really want to, or are you going to talk me to death?”
She frowned down at him.
Clint thought she’d deny it, but he should have known better. Julie Rose had guts and a healthy curiosity—a dangerous combination for a guy trying to resist her.
“I did make a vow to live a little.”
“Yeah, you did. You can start by giving me a real kiss.” And with any luck, he’d survive it.
She stared at him for an excruciatingly long time before leaning down and putting her mouth to his again.
Just that, the simple press of her lips. She didn’t move, didn’t open her mouth. She didn’t even seal the kiss much. Her lips barely touched his, hovering there, light and tentative and sexy as hell.
Clint smiled that such an innocent touch could affect him so much. Against her mouth, he said, “You’re not really into this, are you?”
He felt her indrawn breath. “You don’t like it?”
“Sure, I do.” He held her gaze with his. “Do you?”
Determination showed in the set of her shoulders. “Yes.”
She took his mouth again, this time with her soft lips opened, and she gave him a little tongue: a flick here, a lick there. Absurd, how quickly she got him primed.
Panting now, she moved back and waited.
“Not bad,” Clint rumbled.
Her eyes were heavy, her face warm. Staring at his mouth, she whispered, “You taste so very nice.”
“You can taste me anywhere you want to, honey.” The second the words left his mouth, he groaned. Damn it. Clint decided he had to have masochistic tendencies for putting that idea in her head.
His arms strained with the need to hold her, and he laced his fingers tight to contain himself.
Her eyes flared. She drew two deep breaths, then whispered, “I think I’d like that.”
Jesus. He waited, his muscles coiled tight enough to break, his eyes closed in an effort to shut her out.
“I…I was just thinking.”
Maybe she’d save him by backing out. “You decided this is a bad idea?”
“Oh, no. Just the opposite.” She cupped his face and wiggled against him in a tantalizing way. “You said I’ll be with you for a week?”
It was a dangerous game to play, but he couldn’t call a halt. “That’s right.” His eyes narrowed. “At least a week.”
Her hips pressed in, wringing a growl from deep in his throat.
“I trust you, Clint Evans. I like you and I find you very attractive.”
Shit, shit, shit. That sounded too serious by half, and a lot like hero worship, which wasn’t uncommon under the circumstances. He’d let things get way out of hand, and now he had to set her straight. “Listen, Julie Rose…”
Before he could finish, she blurted, “May I experiment with you for the time that we’re together?”
Clint cursed. He was already on the brink and now, with her suggestive question, he felt ready to implode.
As if to convince him, she rushed into more speech. “Nothing too risqué, I promise. But we’re going to be together anyway, correct? And you don’t seem to mind kissing me.”
She sounded so unsure of herself, Clint couldn’t lie to her about it. “Kissing you is not a problem, Julie Rose.”
Her face lit up. “Wonderful. So there’s no reason some heinous kidnappers should interrupt my plans to start over, now, is there?”
“No.” But she sure as hell shouldn’t be starting over with him.
“And being with you is convenient.”
“Convenient?” Why that pissed him off, he couldn’t say for sure.
She nodded. “Because you’re so trustworthy.”
“You don’t know me well enough to make that call.”
“And you’re very sexy, too.”
Under the circumstances, he didn’t feel all that complimented. “Right.”
“You see? It’s the perfect opportunity for me to have fun, to live my life to the fullest.” Her smile was falsely bright and full of hope. “My plans don’t have to be interrupted at all—as long as you’re willing to cooperate.”
She’d put him in one hell of a position. If he knew Julie Rose—and Clint figured, even with such short acquaintance, he knew her better than Robert or Drew did—then she’d be doing her experimenting one way or another. If not with him, then with some other bozo.
And that thought burned like acid.
Despite what she’d just been through, she didn’t shy away from him. Being in bed with him, knowing he was turned on, hadn’t frightened her at all. Hell, she’d been bold enough to take advantage of him in his sleep.
Still, she was naturally reserved, not at all like the outrageous flirt Robert had described. He had to play this carefully, protecting her feelings without crossing the line.
Alert to any signs of withdrawal, Clint brought his arms down and around her. She was so slight, so fragile against him, that the lust got tempered with protectiveness. He’d rather engage in another knife fight than hurt her feelings.
With one hand, he cupped the back of her head, urging her closer. “I’ll cooperate,” he promised her. At least as far as kissing went. When he gave her the full brunt of his lust, she’d naturally back away on her own. He’d show her how a man wanted a woman. He’d show her a man’s greed, his power.
He’d kiss her the way he’d wanted to kiss her ever since first seeing her picture in Robert’s library, and he’d probably shock her down to her proper little schoolteacher toes in the process.
“Thank you,” Julie whispered, and then his mouth was on hers, hot and hard, his tongue sinking deep, his hands keeping her close so she couldn’t retreat.
But she didn’t even try to pull away. Her mouth opened, her fingers clenched in his hair, and she moaned.
Julie didn’t back away. No, sir. In fact, she nearly pushed him over the edge.
Julie knew she was smart. And she was definitely educated. So how come she hadn’t known a kiss could be so…incredible?
As Clint’s tongue curled with hers, hot and wet and hungry, she heard herself moan.
She, Julie Rose, moaning out loud.
It was wonderful. She didn’t even care if she was too noisy.
Apparently, neither did Clint, given that his erection flexed beneath her belly and he deepened the kiss even more.
It was so nice the way he held her close, not grabbing at her the way Robert used to, but feeling her, touching her all along her back, her upper arms, her hair, her nape.
Her bottom.
He groaned as his hands settled around her backside, kneading, squeezing. Surprised and aroused, Julie stiffened her arms, pushing her upper body up and away from his so she could see his beautiful face. But the position only drove her lower body into closer contact with his, reminding her of his size.
A hot bubble seemed to expand inside her, filling her up. Breathless, seeing Clint through a haze, she managed to explain, “I haven’t seen many erections.”
Clint’s eyes were narrowed, his cheekbones flushed. He gripped her hips and ground himself up against her. “Is that a hint?”
“No. I mean…” She closed her eyes and moved against him, enjoying the thrill that gave her. On a sigh, she said, “I don’t have much experience with size and all that.”
He hesitated, appearing torn. Then his hands slid to the backs of her thighs and spread her legs so that she straddled his lap. His erection touched her in just the right place, stealing her breath, making her skin burn and her stomach tumble.
“I’m a little bigger than average,” Clint rumbled in a low, rough voice. “But I’m not so big that I’d hurt you.”
He held her in such an intimate position, Julie could barely speak. If they were both naked, he could be inside her right now. Picturing that increased the heat, until she felt feverish.
But she wanted to make one thing perfectly clear. “I told you that I trust you. To protect me and to keep me safe.”
He went still. His hands loosened on her hips. “Yes, I’ll keep you safe.”
Julie moved against him. “I know you would never hurt me.”
He cursed low.
“Touch me again, please?”
His jaw locked. “I shouldn’t.”
“I really need you to.” She couldn’t bear it if he stopped now. “Please?”
He hesitated, his gaze locked on hers, and finally he dragged his hands up her legs, under her nightshirt, under the elastic leg bands of her panties and onto her naked flesh. Julie caught her breath. His palms were hot, a little rough as they cuddled her.
Staring into his eyes as he stroked her was both exciting and deeply intimate.
Feeling brazen and sexy, Julie whispered, “More?”
Clint’s expression was so hard, it was almost frightening. His eyes burned, and he looked furious, hot, torn. Still holding her gaze, he pressed his right hand lower, between her legs. Through gritted teeth, he ordered, “Open up, Julie Rose. Spread your legs more for me.”
Such talk shocked and thrilled her. Heart pounding, she adjusted her legs, and felt one thick finger glide over her, press in—
“Hey.” A rap sounded on the door. “You guys up yet?”
At the verbal intrusion, Julie screeched, launching herself to the side of Clint. In her haste, she forgot that his hands were trapped beneath her panties. She frantically freed herself and darted under the covers.
Clint groaned, muttered a few colorful expletives, then snapped, “Give us a minute.”
“Sure thing,” said Red. And even Julie couldn’t mistake the note of amusement in his voice.
The room fell into a strained silence, and Julie lowered the covers only to find Clint on his side, watching her. Even now, with her heart still in her throat and her face hot with embarrassment, she noticed how incredibly sexy he looked stretched out on the bed.
She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. I think that was just a nervous reaction.”
For long moments Clint didn’t say anything. He didn’t smile, didn’t show any softness at all. “I had no business touching you like that.”
Julie’s heart slowed, and her stomach cramped. “But I liked it.”
He shook his head. He had the most incredible eyes she’d ever seen, heated one moment, cool the next. Now they looked very resigned. “If I had any sense,” Clint murmured low, “I’d stay the hell away from you.”
Panic hit her, both from the idea of being alone, without Clint’s security, and at the thought of losing him so soon. “You can’t.” She tried and failed to keep her voice calm. Her heart hammered hard, and her lips quivered. “You promised to protect me.”
His gaze traveled over her, from her fists clenching the top of the blanket, down the length of her well-concealed body. “I know.” His attention came back to her face. “But who the hell’s going to protect you from me?”
He was such a good, honorable man. In a whisper, Julie said, “I don’t want to be protected from you.”
He touched her lips, very absorbed in thought before dropping his hand. “You don’t know what you want, Julie Rose. Hell, you’re probably still dazed from yesterday.”
“I’m not an idiot. And I’m not that fragile.”
One side of Clint’s mouth lifted. “Yeah, baby, you are.”
He said that so sweetly, with so much understanding, Julie couldn’t take exception. She just sighed. “When Jamie told me my life was about to change, I never imagined it’d change this much, and I never, in my whole life, imagined a man like you.”
Without a word, Clint pushed out of the bed. He paced away, but before he reached the door he turned and stalked back to her. Bending down, one big fist on either side of her hips, he growled, “One question.”
Julie reared back. “What?”
“When you were doing all this planning on cutting loose, who the hell did you intend to fuck?”