Playing For Keeps (Montana Men) (21 page)

Color blossomed across her cheeks. “Adult stores?” She
moistened her lips again.

Duel bit back a groan. “What is it with you and that
tempting pink tongue?”

“What?” She blinked. “I have no clue what you’re talking
about.”

“Uh-huh. Well, keep it up,
I’ll
be up…and I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

She snorted. “As if you’re a
ble
—
”

He laughed. “Baby, I may be down, but I’m not dead…yet.”

Her breasts rose and fell in agitation. “Yeah, well don’t
get your hopes up.” Her gaze returned to his crotch. “Or anything else. This
mare had no desire to be rode, by you or any other…cowboy who thinks he’s a
stud.”

Damn, she had nice boobs. Duel tilted his head, eyeing the
distinct outline of her breasts. He’d always been a breast man. Of course, he
had nothing against thighs, especially when they were wrapped around his hips.

“Stop it,”
she
snapped, and folded her arms across her chest. “You are such a man.”

Duel scratched his jaw and laughed. “That I am.” Hell,
it’d been so long since he laughed or flirted, he couldn’t remember the last
time he’d done it. “Doll baby, there’s just no stopping myself from enjoying
the view,” he taunted.

It got to her, and he knew it. She squirmed beneath his
pointed stare. He lifted a brow and muttered. “Damn door, open,” he said in a
fit of temper and jiggled the doorknob. The lock clicked on command and he
shoved the door in hard enough that it bounced against the wall heater a couple
of times. “Finally,” he breathed.

At the moment, he didn’t give a good damn if the door
knocked the heater off the wall and broke it into a dozen pieces. He
desperately needed some distance between him and this aggravating woman and he
needed it fast. She was killing him, with her sultry perfume, her tongue making
all those tiny, sexy darts, and her firm looking breasts.

God, it’d be a shame if a grown man whimpered. He was
close to doing just that. His palms tingled. Hell, his entire body itched,
worse than if he’d been bitten by some kind of bug. Their conversation had
grown way too deep and intense and—
hot.
Why
couldn’t she just back down? Give an inch? But oh, no, not her, she had to
stand toe-to-toe with him and argue about everything.

Bad as he felt and cold as it was, no way should his cock
be jerking around like a snake waking up from hibernation. But there you had
it. Where this woman was concerned, his damn dick was leading him ‘round by his
nose.

Duel didn’t like the fact it swelled against his zipper
every time he was near her. Hell, much more, and it’d be singing
whoop-ee-ti-yi-o.
Of all the women in
D.C., why did he have to want this one? “Mac’s little joy toy,” he muttered.

“What?” She flung back her head in question.

“Nothing. Leave me the hell alone!”

“Gladly,” she popped back, again, getting the last word.

*
* * *

Flayme
watched the agent prowl about the room as if his pants were on fire or he’d
been bitten by ants or something. “What’s wrong with you?”

He
paused and sent her a scathing look. Boy, was it possible to wilt from such a
scorching look?

“You!
You’re
what’s wrong with me.” His
tone sounded accusing. “You don’t have the sense to shut up or back down. Just
keep pushing my buttons, lady.”

She
laughed.

He
sent her a sour look. His mouth twisted with loathing.

She
shivered. God, he hated her. Flayme had a feeling his contempt was based on
more than just the fact she’d bested him in a fight and stabbed him. Really,
she’d be the first to admit it had been a fluke. Looking at him now, at how he
was ripped, how broad his shoulders were, his solid physique, and how utterly
dangerous he was, the wonder was he hadn’t snapped her neck.

Sure
she’d managed to knife him, but only because she’d caught him by surprise. No
way should she have been able to that. He was a highly trained operative with
skills that’d frighten the ordinary lay person. So there was more than luck
catching him unawares. There was another reason, something else going on with
the agent besides her stabbing him.

Flayme
mentally shrugged. She didn’t know why, but the man looked exhausted. His
nostrils weren’t just pinched with pain. Dead on his feet, she couldn’t help
wonder why he was so beat. Before she thought better of it she blurted, “What’s
wrong with you? I mean besides the obvious. You’re dog-tired, but I think you
were worn out long before you broke into my house.”

His
eyes hardened with a steely glint. “There’s nothing wrong with me that a little
R and R won’t cure.”

“Oh.
By that, I assume you mean sex.”

“Sex
works for me.”

“Don’t
look at me. I’m not your R and R.”

He
snorted. “Don’t I know it? You’re the thorn in my ass. You might look like an
angel, but the truth is, lady, you’re tough as an old boot. I like my women a
little softer, a lot more loving, and a whole hell of a lot less trouble. Come
on,” he snapped, and grabbed her just below her left elbow.

Flayme blinked back the unexpected tears that suddenly
stung her eyes. Crap. Nope, she wasn’t going to cry. She refused to let this
man break her.
Tough as an old boot?
What a joke. He liked his women soft, huh? Well, she was a big old softie if
ever there was one, but he made her sound so–
so
—
mean
—

“I
am not tough as an old boot,” she cried and burst into tears.

Duel stilled beside her. “Hey-hey-hey,” he said huskily,
drawing her close. “Don’t cry.” He rubbed her back. “You’ll ruin your pretty
face. Besides, you should know a woman’s tears and me? We don’t get along so
well together.”

“Why not?” She blubbered, gulping sobs. She felt utterly
humiliated. How could she be crying in front of this man?

“Because they tend to melt this crusty ol’ body.”

She leaned away and studied him for a moment. “You aren’t
old. You aren’t even forty yet.”

“Right now I feel pretty damn ancient. So stop crying. And
damn woman, I’m a long way from forty, so let up on bruising my ego a bit, will
ya?”

“I couldn’t bruise your ego with a sledgehammer. I’m not
crying. I’m not tough.” Unthinking, she punched him on his injured shoulder.

“Ow! Fuck!”
He
practically doubled over. Duel rubbed his shoulder and groaned. “Jesus, woman,
are you determined to kill me?”

“Ooh
, I’m so
sorry.” She blinked through her tears. Seeing how pale he’d turned she started
blubbering again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Flayme buried her
face against his chest and sobbed. “This has been a horrible night, the worst
one of my life.”

Awkwardly, he patted her back in a clumsy attempt to
soothe her. “I agree with you there. It hasn’t been one of my better nights,
either. Hey, stop crying now. It’ll be okay.”

She burrowed closer against him. “No, it won’t. Someone
wants me dead and I don’t know why.”

He buried his fingers in her hair and tilted her head. His
face was close, his mouth closer. God, she wanted his mouth on hers in the
worst way. She needed to be held, cuddled and for some odd reason, she wanted
this man to be the one who held and cuddled her.

He must have seen something in her eyes, her face, because
his eyes hardened and he set her away from him.
“Puh-lease.
Don’t try to play me. Cut the water works, sister. It’s
the oldest trick in the world, besides clipping a man’s hair.”

“Oh, so now I’m a Jezebel?”

“You said it.” He steered her inside the room.

“You insinuated it.” She jerked free of his hold, and
stared him down, eye for eye. “You know what?” She rubbed the tears from her
face. “Think what you like.”

“Lady, I don’t have to
think
anything. Less than five minutes after I hit the CIA building you were the
topic of discussion. I heard all about you
doing
Mac. How you spend your lunch hours with him, take money from him, and
busted up his marriage. The information fountain bubbled over, and the topic
was all about you.
Think?
This ain’t
my first rodeo. I’ve seen your kind in action before.”

“My
kind?”

“You’re an expensive piece of ass. Classy, I’ll grant you
that, and probably worth every penny, but you’re a glorified hooker. That’s
it.” Duel stroked his jaw and eyed her up and down. “Mac might be foolish
enough to fall for your beauty and tears, and pay you for a good time, but I’m
not buying what you’re selling.”

“I’m not for sale. Not to Mac, you, or anyone.”

Duel snorted. “You deny accepting money from him?”

She hesitated, her mouth opening, then closing on silence.

“Like I said, I know your type.”

“No. You
think
you know who I am.”

He grinned, but there wasn’t a hint of a smile in his
green eyes. “I never said I know who you are, only
what
you are.”

“You know
nothing
.
Neither what nor who I am.”

“It isn’t difficult to figure out, sweetheart.” He cast a
scathing look at her. “Flayme Jansen, secretary extraordinaire. Money-hungry
whore. Home-wrecker. Top of the list on the gossip chain who has all the men
panting after her. Did I leave anything out?” he asked, a sneer curving his lips.

Her stomach plummeted to her toes. Flayme closed her eyes
and swallowed back the hurt. Opening her eyes, she lowered her gaze. “No, I
think you got it.”

Inside, her stomach felt like a mass of twisted nerves. At
the moment, all she wanted to do was curl up somewhere and lick her wounds. He
hadn’t painted a pretty picture of her. Did he honestly see her as an
ugly-to-her-soul, cheating, heartless woman?

She stiffened her spine. Anger bubbled hot and furious.
Why let this stubborn, know-it-all jackass of a cowboy get under her skin or
hurt her with his lousy opinions of her? She didn’t owe him explanations. Heck,
she hardly knew him, certainly not well enough to share things from her
personal life with him. Besides, he’d already judged her and found her guilty.
No matter what she said, he’d never believe her.

“Is there anything else to know?”

“Nothing,” Flayme quietly replied, and turned away.
“Apparently you know my entire life’s story.”

“Not your life, but I know all I wanna know about you. And
just for the record, I don’t pay a woman for a piece of ass. When I sleep with
one, it’s by mutual consent, and for reciprocated pleasure. The only expense
involved is for condoms.”

Flayme clenched her jaw. “I see. It’s straight to the
sack, not even a candle lit dinner or the cost for a bottle of wine?
Cheapskate,” she said with a sneer.

“For heaven’s sake, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I think you did. It’s what you said. Gosh, I’m surprised
you toss in for the condoms, or do you make your lady pay for them? And just
for the record,” she mocked his words. “I don’t pay a man to sleep with me,
either, and I’ll be damned if I buy a box of rubbers. You want ‘em, you buy
‘em.”

“For Christ’s sake, I don’t want them.” He eyed her. “I
don’t have any use for them. You aren’t exactly my type.”

“Thank God for miracles.” She glared at him.

“Look, if you wanna shower, it’s now or never. Once I hit
the bed, I’m not budging, and neither are you.”

“Let go.” She jerked from his grasp. “Keep your hands off
me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, honey. Women like you grow on
trees in the D.C. area.”

“Women
like me?”
She tapped her foot, then moaned as the sliver of glass slid deeper.

“Senator’s playthings? You know, bouncing the old
mattress? Rocking the old headboards? Putting out?”

She clenched her fists at her sides. “I am not some
senator’s toy.”

“Special Agent’s toy, then. Same difference. You’re a
political plaything.”

“Ooh,
more than you can ever imagine, cowboy, but I’m
—
”

“What?”
Fury
etched his face.

She shook her head. “I don’t understand. What are you so
pissed off about?”

“Are you denying you’re in Mac’s stable?”

“I’m a mare, now? This just gets better and better.”

“Deny it. Give me a reason not to be pissed.”

Flayme opened her mouth, then closed it with a snap. “I’m
not going to deny anything to you. I don’t owe you an explanation.”

“No, you don’t. But, doll baby, don’t play coy and
innocent with me. I know better.”

“What gets your goat the most, Mr. Hot Shot Agent, the
fact that Mac beat you to me or because I belong to him, so you can’t or won’t
touch me?”

“Wouldn’t count on the
won’t
.”
He parted the drapes a mere inch and peeked outside.

Did he have to sound so absent, as if he was hearing a
small part of their conversation? “What?” She frowned. She had the feeling he
was miles away.

“Nothing.” He fiddled with the curtains, making sure they
closed tightly. “What gave you the idea I want to touch you?”

Flayme clenched her jaw. He wasn’t absorbing the conversation
that was plain enough. He said the words, but that’s all he did, spoke the
words. He wasn’t into the conversation. He was immersed in checking their
surroundings. Yes, he gave her his watered-down version of lip service. For
some reason, it made her angrier to know he wasn’t tuned in to their
conversation. “Oh, you know, there’s a certain little pointy part of your body
that just gives you away, cowboy.”

“Huh.” Abruptly he whipped around eyeing her.

It struck her that although he’d given the impression he
was half listening to her, he’d been paying closer attention than she’d thought.

“Don’t flatter yourself, honey. I haven’t had a woman in
a…let’s just say it’s been a long, dry spell. If a flea hopped aboard my zipper
I’d get a hard-on right now.”