Passionate Immunity (10 page)

“We’re going dark and I will need to take countermeasures to be certain we’re not followed,” he said. He moved his head constantly so he could watch every direction and scan the streets. “Are you hurt? Did that bastard hit you?”

“No,” she gasped, her mind still reeling with all that had happened. “I’m fine. I swear.”

“Will you be able to hold it together for an hour or so?” He lowered his voice as they turned onto a well-lit street. No one was in hearing distance but they were moving towards a busy street and soon would have many people around them.

Kimber took a moment to collect herself and nodded.

“Yes. Yes, I’m fine,” she reassured him.

She looked up at Tristan. He gazed back at her for a second. She smiled, hoping her trust in him—and not the fear she rapidly pushed to the back of her mind—would show through.

Tristan released her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, drawing her body closely into the curve of his own. He pressed a warm kiss to her forehead.

“You’re a brave girl,” he said, emotion rich in his tone. “Plenty of guts. I just want to be certain we aren’t followed.”

Kimber reached up a hand and wiped away the trail of blood down the side of his face.

“You need a doctor,” she insisted. “Or at least get me to a first-aid kit. It’s only a scratch, but it needs cleaning and maybe a bit of adhesive tape.”

Tristan saw the blood on her fingers and blinked in clear surprise. He ran a hand over the thin graze, rubbed it a moment then tugged his hair to cover the worst of it.

“I can’t feel a thing,” he promised. “Chances are it’s a splinter from that damn desk the bastard shot out. Let me know if it gets worse. Covering our tracks is more important than cleaning that up.”

Kimber didn’t demur, but glanced at him every few seconds to keep an eye on his wound. Two blocks later Tristan started doubling back, walking them on a convoluted, winding path up and down the city streets, constantly checking around them and in the reflections of windows to make certain they were safe. Even though her insides were still shaking with reaction and the faint tinge of fear, she had never felt more protected or safe.

Kimber knew first-hand now that adventure, romance, passion and excitement were not exactly the same as what she had seen and read about for most of her life. The thrill had a keen edge to it, a sharp bite she’d not fully understood or expected. But one thing she knew without doubt—this man—her lover and partner—would protect her with his all, until his dying breath.

She could trust him with her heart, her soul and her life.

He would protect and cherish her always.

He was her hero.

Later, she would realise this was the very moment she fell deeply, desperately and irrevocably in love with Tristan Walters.

Chapter Six

It wasn’t until Kimber first dabbed the antiseptic ointment onto his brow that Tristan felt the pain of his cut. Adrenaline had always been better than any drug he’d heard of. For him, it cut through pain, fear, self-doubt and pretty much anything other than the mental clarity of what his next action could be.

In the heat of the moment adrenaline always caused his mind to be razor-sharp, perfectly clear in its focus and dull to anything else external. This time the dangerous threat to Kimber had kept his endorphin levels high. He’d lost Peterson, that pain was still quite raw and vivid in his mind.

At the time he’d not been able to do anything for his mate. Wounded, half unconscious from lack of blood and shock, his work partner being shot in the face had occurred in the space of an eye blink. The mere thought of Kimber being in danger had knotted his stomach uncomfortably. That moment when the gun had fired for the first time many things had crystallised for him.

The very certain knowledge that he loved this woman had become painfully apparent. Nothing could happen to her. Not while he still drew breath and could protect her.

Amazingly she had borne up well. He had taken them on a maze-like walk long into the early hours of the morning. Swapping trains, routes, carriages and even rising up to the streets above to check their tail by wandering the small alleys, losing any passers-by in the shops, then doubling back to repeat the process for nearly two hours had at least convinced him that they had not been tailed and their escape had been clear.

Throughout all that time Kimber had not uttered one word of protest. Any other woman—and more than a few men Tristan knew, as well—would have protested long before he had finally wound their way back to his flat. As he had put his key into the lock and had opened his front door Kimber had finally snapped out of her own thoughts. She glanced at him, seeming curious, perhaps searching his face for something.

“Is this your place?” she asked, her voice soft and husky. They’d spent most of the last hour in silence as her exhaustion and the letdown from her own adrenaline surge had almost certainly slowed her.

Tristan nodded and held her close to him while opening the door. He scanned his entryway to be certain they wouldn’t be ambushed. The visible coast clear, he kissed her forehead tenderly, amazed at her resilience. She was no weeping sop, ready to fall apart at the merest hint of adversity.

“Yes, this is my home,” he replied, admiration burning strongly in him. The fierce need to protect her still raged strongly. “Wait here a moment while I check out we’re safe, okay?”

She nodded, leaning against his door-jamb with a tiny sigh of relief.

Tristan quickly scouted his small flat. Confident the place was secure, he returned to Kimber and paused just for a moment to stare at her and drink the sight in.

Her golden curls were mussed from their flight, spiralling adorably out of control. They made her appear like some wild pagan goddess after a fight to the death. Warm blue eyes showed tiredness, but still plenty of spirit and determination. Her dark clothes were crumpled, a small bulge in her jeans pocket reminding him they had not left empty-handed.

Tristan dropped his duffel on the small entryway table with relief then crossed the distance back to Kimber and gently led her into his home. The door closed behind them and he checked the locks were secure before taking her hand and urging her into his main living room.

He was about to sit her on the couch and offer to make her some tea to soothe her nerves, but she took him by surprise again. Her hair fell to her shoulders when she tilted her head at him.

“Where’s that first-aid kit of yours?” she asked, strength returning to her voice, the tiredness evidently pushed back once again. Worry spiked through him.

“You said you weren’t hurt,” he insisted. Sitting beside her, squashing her unceremoniously to one corner of the large padded chair, he ran a hand professionally down her arm, searching for wounds which after all this time would need immediate care.

She chuckled, her slender hands gentle as she cupped his jaw and lifted his face to meet hers.

“Not for me, lover,” she chided him. She brushed the tip of her finger, whisper-light, over the corner of his brow, coming away with a tiny amount of dried blood.

“Oh,” he replied, chagrined to have forgotten the small scratch. “It’s nothing. We should shower and call in, check Lucas made it all right and managed to get those cameras wiped. Then—”

“I followed you without question for two hours.” She tapped his nose smartly, her tone brooking no argument. “You can give me five minutes to assuage my worry and clean that wound. Then you can get back to saving the world once again, I swear.”

He grinned, unable to resist her taking charge. It heated his blood, fired him up and made his cock twitch with eagerness. She was far braver than she realised, he knew—more courageous than he could have possibly guessed from her petite frame, her sensual curls or her brainy manner.

A few minutes would not change anything.

He nodded and stood, waving a hand towards the bathroom.

“Back here,” he said.

She followed him once again. Sitting on the edge of the bath, he waited while she sorted through his large tub of medical paraphernalia, picking and choosing what she wanted to use.

When she dabbed the ointment onto his graze, he hissed briefly at the completely unexpected pain. She huffed in barely suppressed laughter once then swallowed her amusement.

“You sure know how to show a girl a good time,” she spoke after a moment. The let- down after a death-defying experience always affected people differently, Tristan knew from long experience.

“I’ve had my fair share of complaints from women,” he replied, feeling his way through what she was getting at.

“I can’t think why. We achieved part of what we set out to do, you protected me, would have clearly given your life to keep me safe. Then you got us out of there and made certain we were no longer in danger. I wasn’t being facetious. It wasn’t quite how I planned to end out first criminal act together, but all up I think you did a marvellous job.”

Tristan chuckled dryly.

“Sure, this time I only got grazed. Last time I was shot it took months—” His words cut off at the painful memory. Soft lips pressed to his. Tristan’s inner musing halted immediately. Kimber’s touch, her taste and faint, sweet scent took all the horrible memories away in an instant.

He stroked his tongue out over her lips, tasting her. He craved experiencing her even more intimately and wondered what her juices would be like rolling around in his mouth when it was just her natural flavours, with no hint of his own salty skin. She pulled away and he sighed at the loss.

“We’re both completely safe and here because of you,” she reminded him as she dabbed more ointment on his wound. “You might have taken us on the long route back, but we’re here and fine. Now let me tend to you and then we can call in or report or do whatever you need.”

The fact she could joke and poke fun at him settled matters in his mind. She was fine, coping far better than he could have imagined. The pale, fearful look that had been on her face in the laboratory was long gone and she had bounced back stronger and sassier than ever.

Heat filled his body and he tried to put a lid on it. Sexual urgency was another common side effect of action they’d been through. It had never been so potent, so overwhelmingly needy, but he tried to get himself under control nevertheless.

When she leaned over, studying his cut, her light, floral scent consumed his senses. He discreetly breathed her in, holding the feminine nature of her smell within his body and committing it to memory.

Tristan had learnt long ago he was not the sort of man women wanted to build a life with—gone at all hours, sometimes for days or even weeks at a time. Secretive about the nature of his work, unable to share much of the burden he frequently carried inside him, and then coming home battered, bruised and bloody.

Yeah, some catch I am.

His disastrous relationship track record aside, Tristan knew deep in his soul that Kimber was different. She was special. He planned to cling to her acceptance, desire and warmth for as long as she chose to stay. She would leave sooner or later, fed up with him, every woman had so far, but for now, he planned to relish every moment, every caress and everything she gave him so willingly. The look in her eyes as she tended to him was so loving, so tender, he could almost convince himself he’d finally found a woman who could accept all of him unconditionally and still care for the man he tried so hard to be.

She tenderly pressed the adhesive tape over his cut, brushing his hair back out from his eyes as she did so. They both paused, each seeming reluctant for this perfect moment to end. She stared at him, and for the first time in what felt like forever he wished he could read minds and understand women better.

“What?” he asked in a low tone, a small smile tilting the corners of his mouth. His body hummed with desire, blood surging into his cock and stiffening him. He knew the faintest touch or gesture of acceptance would set him over the edge. Tristan could feel himself poised, ready to take her over and over, claim her as his.

In truth he had no idea if this was lasting love or just the culmination of a heady mixture of a beautiful woman, hormones and an intoxicating situation. It felt real to him, the desires and urges he felt towards Kimber were not fleeting or passing, were not weak, easily shattered feelings. He wanted her more than anything else in this world, and he knew that would not change when she woke up the following morning and realised exactly what she had got herself into.

“I just…” Kimber’s voice trailed off and she shook her head. She straddled his lap and sat down, the heat of her pussy penetrating his hard cock. He felt her need through their denims. Sensing the urgency in her touch and seeing the fine tremors that shivered along her fingers, he knew how much she craved this.

When she kissed him fire raged through his body, burning away every doubt and question he could possibly hold. Any pretence at restraint evaporated and he kissed her back. Swiftly, he moved a hand up to cup her head and tilt it. This way he could plunge his tongue deeply inside her mouth. Soft curls fell over his skin, taunting him and driving his lust higher.

Tristan moaned with the fierce passion of his need. He could not have restrained himself even if every soldier from Hades had stormed into his bathroom. Kimber cried out passionately, her legs wrapped around his waist and they pressed against each other. Tristan thrust his cock against her, simulating their ardent lovemaking even through their clothes. She whimpered, arching into him desperately at his movement

Holding her legs high, he stood, then carefully lowered her to the cool tile floor. Kissing each other as if the world was about to end, they stripped each other naked with far more haste than grace. The thin lace of her bra and knickers tore at his rough tugging, their clothes scattered wherever they fell.

Finally they were both naked and he could look his fill at her curvy, tiny body.

She was perfect, everything he could possibly want or imagine. And for now at least, she was his, this beautiful, passionate woman he had fallen irrevocably in love with.