Secret Agent Seduction (12 page)

Lia gave him a level look. “With all due respect, sir, I'm not interested in providing companionship to you, or anyone else. Now if you will excuse me—”

As she tried to sidestep him his hand shot out, latching on to her wrist. His thoughts rushed to the surface of her brain, a volatile mix of lust and aggression.

Lia groaned inwardly, praying she wouldn't have to dropkick the general in front of his peers and subordinates.

She met his leering stare, then glanced down pointedly at his hand. “Sir, I would advise you to—”

“Take your hand off her,” a low, icy voice spoke from behind the general.

Lia's heart thudded as the general quickly dropped her hand and wheeled around to face Magliore, who had materialized out of thin air, it seemed. His expression was dark and menacing as he regarded the older man.

“Now see here—” the general blustered indignantly.

“General Bradshaw, is it?” At the man's tight nod, Magliore continued in chillingly soft tones, “Your secretary, Tiffany, has told me so much about you. What a wonderful boss you've been to her, so noble and upstanding, revered by all. She bragged about what a devoted family man you are, a pillar of the community. I told her you sounded too good to be true.” He smiled, coldly mocking. “It appears that I was right.”

The general's face turned an even brighter shade of red. Drawing himself up to his full height, he glared reproachfully at Lia. “Maybe it's
not
such a good idea for women to be Secret Service agents. No matter how many guns you may carry, you still need rescuing.”

Lia bit the inside of her cheek to keep from saying something she might later regret. But as soon as the general had moved away, she turned angrily on Magliore. “What the
hell
do you think you're doing?” she hissed, acutely aware that they were being watched by several guests.

Magliore stared at her, incredulous. “
Me?
I'm not the one who was just trying to manhandle you.”

“I didn't need you to intervene on my behalf. I can take care of myself!”

His jaw hardened, his eyes flashing with suppressed anger. “Pardon me for giving a damn what happens to you.”

Lia opened her mouth to respond, then snapped it shut. They glared at each other across two feet of charged space.

“I'm ready to go.” Magliore bit off his words.

“Are you sure?” Lia taunted, unable to resist. “I see your little girlfriend standing across the room with her arms crossed and her bottom lip poked out, looking like someone rained on her parade. Are you really sure you wanna leave her hanging like that? It may be hard to get back into her good graces later on when you sneak out in the middle of the night to go screw her.”

Magliore's eyes narrowed on Lia's face, sharp and discerning.

Too late, Lia realized she'd said too much, revealed too much. She turned away abruptly. “You wanna go? Fine. Let's go.”

They didn't exchange another word until they'd reached the cabin ten minutes later. Lia, still incensed by the general's parting words to her, stalked around the living room, snapping on lights while Magliore poured himself a shot of whiskey from the butler's pantry.

“For future reference,” she said through gritted teeth, “the next time you get that classic male urge to charge in on your white horse and rescue the helpless damsel in distress, do me a favor. Just say no.”

Magliore gulped down his drink, then gave a short, brittle laugh. “Please don't stand there and pretend this is about what happened with General Bradshaw.”

“Of course it is!” Lia burst out, her temper flaring. “In case you still don't understand, Magliore, I am a
Secret Service agent,
a trained professional paid to protect others from danger. I am fully capable of getting myself out of uncomfortable situations. Especially situations in which the only real threat to me is a horny old man who's had too much to drink. The way you interfered tonight completely undermined my authority and made me look like a fool.”

“I'm sorry!” Magliore exploded, his eyes blazing with fury. “Is that what you want me to say? I'm sorry, damn it. I'm sorry for offending or humiliating you. Believe me, that wasn't my intention. I watched him make his way over to you, and it put me on edge. And then I saw him grab you, and I just lost my head. Before I knew it I was marching across the room, ready to rip his damn head off. As far as I'm concerned,” he snarled, “that bastard got off easy.”

Lia stared at him, stunned into silence by what he'd just told her. The fact that he'd been watching her at any time during the evening, especially with Tiffany draped all over him, filled her with an incredible sense of satisfaction. And relief. She'd spent most of the day tortured by the sight of him and the other woman flirting with each other, tortured by mental images of them in bed together. Not once during the party had he glanced in her direction or given her any indication that he was even cognizant of her presence.

But he had been. And somehow that made up for everything she'd endured that day.

Giving her a sardonic look, Magliore splashed more whiskey into his glass and drank it in one swallow.

“Careful,” Lia warned, half-seriously. “You don't want to end up an inebriated letch like General Bradshaw.”

Magliore didn't so much as crack a smile.

Lia pushed out a long, deep breath. “All right. It's possible I overreacted a little.”

He stared into his empty shot glass. “I know what you were upset about,” he said softly, “and it had very little to do with the general, or what I said to him.”

Lia swallowed with difficulty. No denial sprang to her lips.

Lifting his head, Magliore gave her a long, probing look that sent heat licking through her. When he spoke again, his voice was low and measured. “I've been trying to figure you out all day.”

“Oh?” It was an effort to squeeze out the word, her lungs were so constricted.

He nodded, setting aside the glass. “You claim to regret kissing me,” he murmured thoughtfully, “yet seeing me with another woman makes you so jealous you can hardly think straight. How do you explain that?”

Lia wanted to turn tail and run, get away from him as fast as possible. Instead she forced herself to remain standing in the middle of the living room, her chin angled in stubborn defiance. “I think you're putting words in my mouth.”

“Am I?”

“
I
think so.”

He came forward, a slow and predatory advance. “You think so, or you know so?” he said silkily.

Her heart beat wildly in her chest as he drew nearer. The air between them was charged with tension, almost suffocating in its intensity.

When he'd stopped in front of her, she stared up at him helplessly. “What do you want from me?” she whispered.

He shook his head slowly. “Don't do that. Don't pretend you don't know what this is about.”

“If you're still talking about what happened yesterday—”

A flicker of annoyance darkened his features. “Damn it, Lia,” he growled. “You still can't even say it, can you? We
kissed.
We shared the most amazing
kiss
I've ever had in my life. Referring to it in abstract terms won't change what we did, or the fact that I want you so bad my body aches every time I just think about you.”

Lia's breath snagged sharply in her throat, her belly quivered with arousal and her knees threatened to buckle. As she gazed into the searing intensity of Magliore's eyes, she had to fight the sensation of drowning.

She needed to escape.
Now.
Before it was too late.

She took a step backward. “I—I think we should call it a night. It's getting late.”

“That's right, Lia. Run,” Magliore taunted softly. “That's what you do best. Run.”

Just like that, something snapped inside her. The agony of watching him with another woman, compounded by days of pent-up sexual frustration, finally pushed her over the edge, and she lashed out.

“Damn you!” she cried, placing her hand against the solid wall of his chest and shoving as hard as she could. “Do you think this is easy for me? Do you think I enjoy running from you? I'm a fighter. I've never run from anyone or anything in my life! Until now—until
you!
”

His eyes glittered in warning. “Lia—”

“No! This is what you've been waiting to hear, isn't it? That I want you just as much as you want me. That ever since we met, I've lain awake every night thinking about you, fantasizing about you, wishing we were two different people so I could make love to you. That every time I see you I just…I just—Oh, hell!”

Before Lia could stop herself, she cupped his face between her hands, leaned up and crushed her mouth to his, swallowing his sharp intake of breath. As his arms lifted and banded tightly around her waist, she traced the outline of his sensuous lips with the tip of her tongue, wondering how a man's mouth could be so soft, so temptingly lush. He tasted of whiskey and his own uniquely intoxicating flavor. She ran her tongue along the smooth edges of his teeth before boldly pushing her way inside. She plundered the silky heat of his mouth in slow, erotic sweeps that made him shudder. He wasn't alone in his arousal. Her flesh burned all over, her breasts throbbed, her loins ached. She wanted desperately to be naked with him, to feel his slick, powerful body mounted above hers. With a hoarse moan, she deepened the kiss, sucking greedily on his tongue until he made a sound deep in his throat, pure masculine hunger. Showing him no mercy, Lia poured all of her need, anger and stifled frustration into what became the most savage, bruising kiss she'd ever experienced.

By the time she wrenched herself free, she and Magliore were both gasping for air.

They stared at each other for several electrified moments.

As the fog of desire slowly cleared from her brain and sanity returned, Lia realized the enormity of what she'd just done. Without a word, she spun on her heel and bolted for the safety of her bedroom.

She didn't get very far.

Quick as a snake striking, Magliore reached out and captured her around the waist. Although she resisted, he was too strong for her, hauling her roughly into his arms. But instead of resuming the kiss, as she'd feared, he buried his face in her hair, holding her against him as he fought to control his ragged breathing.

“You're killing me,
chère,
” he whispered hoarsely, his voice filled with raw torment. “I don't know how much more of this I can take.”

Lia squeezed her eyes shut tightly, her face pressed against the solid warmth of his chest. She could feel his heart thudding beneath her cheek while her own slammed painfully against her rib cage. Her emotions were in turmoil. Every fiber of her being throbbed for him, ached for him. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around his neck and pull his head down to hers for another earth-shattering kiss that would leave them both breathless and shaken. And she didn't want to stop there. She wanted to throw caution to the wind, forget the rest of the world and surrender to him—mind, body and soul.

She silently railed against the cruel hand of fate that had brought them together at this moment in time. Why couldn't they have met under different circumstances? Why couldn't they have met eight years ago during her previous trip to Muwaiti? She'd been younger, happier and carefree in a way she'd never been since then. Magliore would have been a young soldier in Seligny's army, unburdened by the demands of leading a revolution. They could have enjoyed a passionate island fling, and when it was time for her to leave, she would have taken her wonderful memories with her.

Assuming I would have wanted to leave.

Shaken by the unsettling thought, Lia drew a deep, shuddering breath and forced herself to step away, out of his arms. She didn't know whether to feel relieved or devastated when he made no attempt to detain her.

“Good night,” she murmured.

He said nothing, and she didn't look at him, afraid to let him see the fear, the doubt, the yearning reflected in her eyes.

She had taken three steps toward her bedroom when he said in a low, husky voice, “I'm sorry.”

Lia stopped, but did not turn around. “For what?”

“For putting you in this impossible position. For asking you to choose between duty and your own desires.” He paused. “You're a good agent, Lia. A damn good one. I know how much your job means to you. I didn't fully understand before, but I do now.”

Hearing the note of resignation in his voice, Lia slowly turned to face him. Her pulse was thudding. She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, unaccountably nervous. “Does this mean…Does this mean you're going to stop trying to seduce me?”

He held her gaze for a long, heated moment. “Is that what you really want?”