And Able (2 page)

The only person she felt in danger of being accosted by right now was him, and if that happened, the last thing she’d want to do was fight. Which was a really dumb attitude she couldn’t seem to shake.

Sex was not worth getting all shook up over, so why did hanging around this man make her feel like an Elvis Presley song?

“But mace?”

“Yes. Since you won’t use a gun.”

“You make that sound like a crime.”

“It’s just…” He paused as if searching for a word. “Different.”

“I guess a mercenary would see things that way.”

“Former mercenary.”

“Right…now, you are a security specialist.”

“Among other things.”

She wanted to ask what other things, but suddenly, talking just wasn’t an option.

The lion inside him was looking at her through his darkening blue eyes and the expression was one of a lethal predator deciding how best to devour his prey. “I know you tried to forget it, but you besmirched my honor and you need to do something to make up for it.”

“I do?”

“Uh-huh.”

How’d his face get so close? “Wh…” She had to clear her throat. “What do you mean?”

“I think a kiss would do it.”

“What?”
 
Kissing was the best part of sex, she supposed, but that wasn’t saying a lot. So why did the prospect of locking lips with Hotwire sound so darn exciting?

“A kiss, Claire. You know what a kiss is—when a man and woman—”

She covered his mouth to stop the tantalizing words. “I know what it is, smarty pants, but why would you want one from me?”
 
That was her fantasy
.

And as she’d just reminded herself, fantasy was well and good…acting on it was not.

He licked her palm and she jerked her hand from his mouth.

He smiled that devil’s smile that always sent her insides jumping. “Because you’ve offended me and now you must make up for it.”

“You’re crazy. Nitro and Wolf offend you all the time. I don’t see you kissing them.”

He smiled, his eyes so full of sensual suggestion, her knees went weak. “My friends are not beautiful women.”

“Well, neither am I,” she said sarcastically.

“There you go, besmirching my honor again. My mama would be appalled at your opinion of my veracity.”

She wasn’t going there. “You don’t expect Josette to kiss you when she offends you.”

“I would prefer not to end up in a fight to the death with Nitro. He’s a scary son when he’s riled.”

“You’re not afraid of anyone or anything,” she scoffed. “Josette told me stories.”

Something moved in his eyes and for a second she saw the mercenary who had gone into war-torn countries to bring out hostages. His was the face of a man who had killed, and would do so again, if it was necessary to preserve the safety of those he had committed to protecting.

But just as quickly as it surfaced, the look disappeared, and Hotwire’s blue eyes burned with sexy challenge. “I want a kiss, Claire…are you going to give it to me?”

“Sure.” She went up on her toes, intent on bussing his cheek.

He turned his head just enough, though, and her lips ended up pressed lightly to his. She didn’t open her mouth, but she didn’t pull away immediately like she’d planned to, either. She hung there, suspended by the connection between their mouths, her body humming with excitement. One second the kiss was soft and light, and the next he yanked her against his hard, male body and his mouth slammed down over hers with definite intent.

He took her mouth with the skill and power of an invading army…or one very formidable mercenary.

The man certainly knew how to kiss. He ate at her lips until she was dizzy from the pleasure of it. His fingers massaged her jaw, as if encouraging her complete surrender, the only kind she was sure he recognized. She’d never experienced anything so amazing in her life as Hotwire’s kiss. She moaned out her approval while gripping the front of his white silk dress shirt in her fists.

He growled something she could not understand against her lips and then his hands skimmed down, over her naked shoulders and around to the exposed skin of her back. His fingertips touched bare skin between the velvet lacing and played tantalizingly with the bow.

Man alive, what would she do if he untied it? She’d read about being branded by a man’s touch, but had never known what it meant…until now. Her skin grew hot under his fingers, so hot she would swear burn marks would be left behind. Only it did not hurt like a burn.

It felt too darn good for her sanity.

Without really thinking about it, she opened her mouth. His tongue tangled instantly with hers and took immediate and absolute possession of the interior of her mouth. Pleasure jolted through her body, spearing her right between her legs and she arched her pelvis toward him.

His hands traveled down over her bottom to the backs of her legs below her skirt hem, then came up under her skirt and back up her legs. She almost jumped out of her skin when he touched the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. He curled his big fingers around them, holding her while his thumbs kneaded her bottom and he lifted her into closer contact with his body.

She undulated against him in a move that felt entirely natural, but froze in shock as her mound brushed against the hard roll of his erection.

He wasn’t so inhibited. He used his grip on her to move her up and down the length of his engorged and rigid penis, making a low, masculine sound of pleasure as he did so. Tremors more powerful than a Richter 10 earthquake went off inside her.

“Stop trying to seduce my maid of honor, Hotwire. It’s time to throw the bouquet.” Josette’s voice crashed through the passionate haze surrounding Claire, bringing her back to reality with a thud.

What in the world had she been doing?

Hotwire jolted like a man shocked by a live electric wire and broke the kiss, practically tossing Claire away from him. She tottered on her unfamiliar heels and almost fell. He reached out to steady her, his expression pained, but snatched his hands back the moment she stopped wobbling.

The silence between them was more charged than the air after an electric storm.

“You have five minutes and then I’m tossing the bouquet,” Josette said, her gaze faintly amused and assessing, before she turned to head back to the reception.

It would take Claire five minutes just to get her breath back. How was she supposed to walk back into the reception on top of that?

After several more seconds of charged silence, he said, “I’m sorry. That was way out of line.”

“I liked it,” she admitted. Way too much, but hot kisses were one thing, doing the deed another, and she really didn’t want him thinking she was open for that kind of play.

“No doubt,” he said, sounding terribly arrogant. “I’ve never had any complaints on my technique, but I was out of line all the same.”

“If you say so.”

“Look, I’m not in the market for a committed relationship, and you’re not the type of woman to settle for a one-night stand or even a short affair.”

“Of course not.” Her distaste for the very thought had to have been written on her face because he winced.

The thing was, she didn’t think Hotwire was a one-night stand kind of guy himself. Only, for some reason he wanted her to think he never got serious with women. She realized that was the message he’d been giving her since the day they met, but it simply did not ring true. He had too much integrity to be a true hound dog. Regardless, patently, he had no desire to get serious
 
with her
, and that’s all that really mattered.

Besides which, she wanted a relationship with a man like she wanted to retake her finals from last semester and flunk them all. There was no place in her life for a man…not even a super-sexy stud who made her insides go nuts with something as simple as a kiss.

“Right, we’re at opposite ends of this particular data array,” he said. “So, no more soul kisses.”

“That felt more like a groping, marauder kiss to me.”

“I do not grope.” Hotwire looked truly offended.

“So the fingers I felt on my behind were a spectral phenomenon?” she mocked.

“I’m not a ghost.”

“I can vouch for that,” she said with a small smile, still tingling in places
 
she
 
never talked about.

“C
laire,” Josette yelled from the other room.

“That’s my cue to go.”

“Good luck,” Hotwire said.

“Aren’t you coming to watch?”

“No.”

“Marriage isn’t a disease, you know. You can’t catch it being in the same room as Josette and Nitro.”

He smiled a little. “It’s a good thing, since I was at the wedding.”

“You really are clinging to your freedom, aren’t you?”

“I’m not ready to settle down, no.”

She shrugged. Marriage wasn’t her idea of life happily ever after, either, but his single status was almost a religion for Hotwire. “Thanks again…for getting me my locket back.”

“Hey, no big deal.”

Wolf had told her that Hotwire had spent precious extra minutes searching the offices of the terrorist group they brought down the month before, risking his very life to get her necklace back. Hotwire was hero material for sure…she, however, was no princess, and she didn’t believe in fairy tales anyway.

“It is to me,” was all she said, and then she turned and walked away, her hand rising of its own volition so her fingertips could press the swollen contours of her lips.

Hotwire watched Claire walk away and damn near went after her when she touched her mouth as if holding onto their kiss. He hadn’t been this turned on in…hell, he wasn’t sure he’d ever been this turned on.

Claire did nothing to entice him, and he spent every second in her company wanting to strip her naked.

If the near debilitating desire wasn’t enough, he actually enjoyed her company. He’d once told Nitro that he and Claire had nothing in common. And in some ways that was true. The woman was a vegetarian
and
 
a pacifist. Not exactly best-buddy material for a former mercenary.

But she was also smart and understood computers with the same intrinsic ability as he did. She shared his passion for new technology as well. He’d never met another woman like her.

She didn’t dress to her best advantage. He’d never seen her wearing makeup before today, but her lack of artifice didn’t make her any less feminine to him. He felt more male hormones rampage through him in her company than he did surrounded by a gaggle of his mother’s southern belle protégées.

But something about Claire held him back from acting on what those male hormones wanted him to do. Her ready confirmation that she was not the kind of woman to enjoy a no-commitment affair was only part of it. Even if she would accept those terms, he had a feeling that sex with her would be more than mind-numbing physical pleasure.

For all her lack of feminine wiles, Claire Sharp was a dangerous woman. She was so damn different from those southern belles his mama was so fond of. Any woman he knew from back home would accept whatever he chose to give her with a sweet smile and an attitude that said she was doing him a favor letting him give it to her.

Claire wasn’t like that. At all. She said she refused to accept charity, but he didn’t consider helping a friend charity.

Heck, it had taken some major fast-talking on Josie’s part to get Claire to keep using the laptop he’d given her when she learned she wasn’t getting hers back. The FBI had confiscated it as evidence the month before. Hotwire hadn’t been surprised by the fed’s action, which was why he’d made sure her grandmother’s locket was off the premises when the FBI moved in on the bad guys.

She
 
was
 
his friend, even if maybe she didn’t see herself that way.

There weren’t many people he put in that category, and it irritated him she didn’t consider herself one of them. He didn’t get it, but there were a lot of things about Claire that mystified him and would continue to do so.

Because time spent in her company trying to figure her out was hazardous…both to his libido and his peace of mind.

“And this switch turns the outer lights on steady illumination.” Hotwire pressed the small button and the backyard lit, exposing every shadowy recess.

He’d driven Claire home so he could go over the new security system with her.

“Great,” Claire enthused, though he got the distinct impression she was humoring him. “I’m amazed you got it all done so quickly.”

He shrugged. “No sweat. It’s what we do.”

She cocked her head to one side and looked at him. “Not exactly. Your new company specializes in hi-tech security on a much bigger scale.”

“It’s the same principle.”

“There’s nothing dangerous about installing outdoor lighting in a residential neighborhood.”

“We’re not mercs anymore, Claire. Our day jobs aren’t that dangerous, either.”

“Right. According to Josette, your latest client is an international politician who requested your expertise in keeping him alive because he’d received so many death threats in the past year.”

“Coordinating protection for one politician is nothing compared to going into a war zone to bring out hostages.”

“Agreed. But then, securing Josette’s rental house is nothing in comparison to the politician, either.”

“But no less important.” Her safety mattered to all of them.

“Thanks.” She smiled, her pretty pink lips void of the gloss she’d worn earlier.

The thought that he had kissed it off tormented him. He could still taste her on his lips, and the desire to kiss her again grew with every breath he took in her radius. Coming to her house alone had been a really bad idea. He hadn’t reacted to a woman like this since Elena, and even then, he’d had more control of the physical desires riding him.

Her brown gaze was warm. “You did a great job. I really like the way you set up remote access capability from my laptop.”

“I figured you would.”

“You know me so well.” Which made her look wary, for some reason.

The temptation to touch her about overwhelmed him and he took a quick step back. “If you don’t have any questions, I’ll head back to the hotel.”

“No questions, but if you don’t mind waiting for just five minutes…” She smiled tentatively. “I would really appreciate a ride to the Max station. It’s on the way, or I wouldn’t ask.”

His brow furrowed. “Why do you want a ride to the light-rail station?”

“Because it will save me a bus ride and two transfers. I’ll only take a minute changing clothes. Really.”

He didn’t doubt it. Claire did not primp, but his libido rebelled at the thought of her changing out of the entirely feminine and extremely sexy dress she’d worn in the wedding. Though he didn’t mind the idea of her taking the pins out of her silky red hair. The style was elegant, but not her. He liked her wild mop of auburn curls.

“I don’t mind waiting for you, but if you need a ride somewhere, I’ll take you.” He wasn’t dropping her off at some mass transit station at night.

“That’s not necessary. It’s only a short ride on the Max to Belmont Manor.”

“Why are you going to the nursing home?”

“It’s not a nursing home. Belmont Manor is an assisted living care facility.” She grimaced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get all politically correct on you, but the management has been really cracking down on how we refer to it.”

“No problem, but you still haven’t told me why you’re going to the
 
assisted-care facility
 
tonight.”

“I have to work.”

“Josie didn’t say anything about it.” And that surprised him, almost as much as her not sending Claire home from the reception in time for her to take a nap before going in to work.

“I didn’t tell her.”

“Why not?”

“She would have insisted I take the night off.”

“Considering the circumstances, that would have made the most sense.”

“Maybe, but I can’t afford to take off two nights in a row without pay. If I’d told Josette, she would have offered to pay me and then we would have argued. I didn’t want to have a fight with her before her wedding.”

“But you haven’t slept.” And if he knew women as well as he thought he did, she hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, either.

Her mouth curved in a quirky smile, though the shadows around her eyes betrayed her weariness. “Well, no…but sleep is overrated, anyway.”

“Like hell it is. You have to take care of yourself.”

“Oh, come on…don’t tell me you’ve never gone without sleep on a mission.”

“That’s different.” He’d trained his body to function on very little rest.

Claire was a civilian and a sweet, fragile one at that. Even if she didn’t seem to realize it.

“You’re right. It is different. Your missions are dangerous, and lack of sleep could impede your reaction times, putting your life at risk. For me, it’s no more than a matter of maybe being tired and heavy-eyed. I don’t even administer meds. So, nobody is at risk if I get a little groggy.”

“How are you getting home in the morning?”

“Mass transit. How else?” she asked as if she thought a few of his synapses had malfunctioned.

“I’ll pick you up.”

“That’s not necessary.”

He ignored her disclaimer. He’d be there to pick her up and because she was a reasonable being, she would accept the ride. “What about dinner?”

Now, she looked confused. “What about it?”

“You haven’t eaten.”

“I ate at the reception.”

“That was hours ago.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m fine. Now, if you are done grilling me on my eating and sleeping habits, I’ll go change. These shoes are killing me.”

His gaze skimmed down her legs to the sexy heels that were killing her feet. “My mama always said beauty comes with a price.”

“No doubt
 
your
 
mother would know.”

His eyes flicked back up to her face.

Her mouth was twisted wryly, her eyes teasing, and the look made him want to kiss her about ten times more than he had wanted to a second before. “Are you implying I got
 
my
 
good looks from my mama?”

“Did you?”

He grinned. “So you admit you think I’m good-looking?”

“Don’t be vain, and it’s impolite to answer a question with another question.”

“Did your mama tell you that?”

“No, my mother wasn’t one for wise bits of advice.” And her expression said she wasn’t going any further on that subject.

“So, you think I’m
 
hot
.”

“I did not say that.”

“You inferred it and in answer to your question, yes, my mother is a very beautiful woman. But, sugar, you clean up real nice yourself.”

“Meaning I look like a slob most of the time.” She sighed. “I know I do, but I just can’t make myself care about clothes and makeup and all that girlie stuff.”

“I didn’t say you looked like a slob.” But she was probably the sloppiest dresser he’d ever met, certainly the least put-together woman he’d ever wanted to bed. “Besides, like something else my mama used to say, beauty is as beauty does.”

“A lot of people never look beyond the surface.”

“You do.”

She shrugged. “Yes.”

“I do, too.”

“That’s nice to know,” but she sounded like she doubted his words.

If he argued about it, they’d probably end up kissing like they had at the reception and no way was he going there. “Go change.”

She saluted smartly. “Yes, sir. On my way, sir.” She turned and marched away, her delicious bottom swaying in a sexy rhythm.

He shook his head and went into the kitchen to make her something to eat in the car on the way to the nursing home. If she wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight, she’d need all the energy she could get.

True to her word, he’d barely finished the quick meal preparations before she was back and saying she was ready to go.

She’d put on a pair of faded jeans that hugged her curves like a second skin and sent his blood pressure into the danger zone. The tank top she wore under a short-sleeved blouse clung to her generous breasts and he could tell she’d put a bra on. He should be relieved…her braless state had given him a perpetual boner at the reception. But all he could think about was peeling away her clothes and cupping the now modestly contained, but no doubt soft and resilient, flesh.

Something must have shown on his face because her mouth parted on a small gasp and she stepped back, putting distance between them.

“I’m not going to jump you, though you do make a tempting picture.” She’d taken her hair down, as he expected, and it sprang around her head in a silky, curly mop he was dying to bury his fingers in.

She shook her head. “Did you have too much champagne at the reception? Maybe you shouldn’t be driving.”

“I had one glass and it was a long time ago. The only influence I’m under are my male hormones.”

“Has it been too long since you had sex?” she asked in the same tone of voice she’d use to query how many gigabytes he had on his hard drive.

No matter how prosaic
 
she
 
was about it, having her ask such a question sent those tormenting hormones into a tailspin, which eroded his temper. “My sex life is none of your business.”

She blushed, looking more than a little embarrassed. “No…of course it isn’t. I have a real tendency to say what’s on the top of my mind. Sorry. Forget I asked.”

He wished he could forget the answer, but he hadn’t had sex since the first time he fantasized about spreading Claire’s legs and plunging into the heated wetness he knew he’d find between them.

“Um…are you ready to go?” she asked after a few seconds of his glowering silence.

He was acting like a bad-tempered SOB. It was not her fault he wanted her. For crying out loud, it wasn’t even her fault he couldn’t have her. From the way she had responded to his kiss, he knew it wouldn’t take much to get her into his bed. It was his own blighted sense of honor that kept him from acting on his impulses.

She was his friend and he wasn’t decimating that friendship with a long, slow ride on the back of a hay wagon.

He forced his features into a more affable countenance. “Sure. I’m ready.” He grabbed the small bag he’d used to store her dinner and gestured for her to take it. “Eat this in the car.”

“What is that?”

“Your dinner. A sandwich, some carrots, nothing fancy,” he added when she looked confused.

“You made it? For me?”

“I may not be Wolf, but even I can throw together a sandwich.”

She shook her head as if to clear it and then took the bag from his hand. “Thank you. I…that was really thoughtful of you.”

He shrugged off her appreciation.

She didn’t say anything else, but grabbed her backpack on the way out the door.

They were driving and she’d eaten half of the sandwich when she spoke again. “You didn’t put any meat on it.”

“The point was to get you to eat.”

“Well, yes, but I didn’t realize you’d remember I was a vegetarian.”

“I’m not exactly a doddering old man. I’m only thirty-four, Claire. My memory works just fine.”

“Well, of course, but…” Her voice just trailed off.

“Why don’t you eat meat?” He’d wondered about it ever since he realized she was a vegetarian. “Is it part of your whole pacifist belief system?” Gandhi was a vegetarian, he remembered.

“I’m not a pacifist.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Excuse me, but I’m not, and I ought to know, don’t you think?”

“Well,
 
you
 
said you were.”

“When?”

“You refuse to handle a gun and I’ve seen how you react to talk about killing.”

“I don’t handle weapons because I know nothing about them. That makes a gun in my hand a dangerous thing…both to myself and the people around me.”

He agreed, but he’d never heard a civilian talk that way. Well…okay, there was published rhetoric on gun control, but most people thought they were smart enough not to hurt themselves with a weapon, no matter how deadly. “That’s commendable.”

“No, it’s logical. As for me being uncomfortable talking about killing people, that makes most nonmilitary types nervous, or hadn’t you noticed?”

He laughed at her acerbic tone. “I’ve noticed, but you’ve made it clear you have a problem with violence.” Did she think he would be offended by her beliefs?

He wasn’t. He just didn’t understand them.

“Most people have a problem with violence.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Believing nonviolent conflict resolution should be one’s primary reaction in a disagreement does not make me a pacifist.”

“I hate to tell you this, but yes, it does.”

“No, it does not. A pacifist is someone who believes that nonviolence is the
 
only
 
acceptable response to conflict. I don’t agree with that…I merely believe it should come first.”