Undercover Virgin (18 page)

Kyle joined her shortly after she started cooking breakfast. Freshly shaved and showered, he set her pulse skittering. He looked rested, yet predatory, like a contented, sexy tiger on the prowl. The gleam in his eyes sent heat through her veins.

His hair, on head and chest, glistened with moisture, coiling into tight curls and tempting her to touch. All he wore was a pair of Donald's too-large jeans, with the waist sliding low on his hips. She had a hunch he wasn't wearing anything under them, and that thought made her tingle with anticipation.

He greeted her with a kiss that sent her senses swirling and temporarily blocked all thought from her mind. He tasted of mint and hungry man. She clung to him, savoring his solid warmth and uninhibited loving.

"Good morning," she finally whispered against his lips.

"It's okay now," he told her as he nibbled at her mouth. "But it wasn't so good when I woke up in a cold, empty bed."

Rianna laughed softly. "That is terrible," she teased, running her hands over his shoulders, loving the satin-smooth feel of his skin. "I couldn't stay. Nature called, so I decided I might as well get up and find us something to eat."

Kyle's stomach chose to growl at that very minute, making
them
both laugh. By mutual agreement, they dished up the scrambled eggs she'd cooked and made some toast. Rianna poured them both some juice, then sat across from him at the table.

They ate in silence because she didn't want to discuss what was on her mind. Kyle gave her a few searching looks, but she couldn't think of anything cheery and casual to say. She wasn't in the mood for small talk. She was busy trying to find a way to tell him what she'd learned this morning.

When they'd finished, Kyle carried their dishes to the sink and ran some water over them. He poured them each a cup of coffee. Rianna watched his every movement while shredding her paper napkin in nervousness. Her legendary control seemed nonexistent when it came to this man.

She thanked him when he placed the cup in front of her, sipped at her coffee, and stalled for more time.

"Looks like a nice day," he finally said, breaking the silence. "Sullivan said there's a stream out back where we can do some fishing."

She nodded and glanced toward the window. Sunlight streamed through the pane, bathing the room with early afternoon light. She, too, had thought the day perfect, until she'd called Donald.

"It does look like a perfect summer day. I know where he keeps his fishing tackle. Maybe we can catch tonight's dinner."

"Fishing sounds good. What else is on the agenda?"

"Nothing much, I guess. I want to watch the video Donald confiscated from Gregory's estate."

"We'll do that first," he said, taking a long swallow of coffee. Rianna watched his throat work, and hers grew tight.

When he set down the cup, he reached out and grasped her hand. She gave him a wary glance, but didn't resist when he tugged harder. Rising from her chair, she moved close enough for him to wrap his hands around her waist. Then he lifted her until she straddled his lap.

Her bare legs slid over his jeans-covered thighs, the friction sending a sizzle of sensation over her sensitized skin. She splayed her hands on his chest and felt more heat coursing through her.

"Wanna tell me what's worrying you so much this morning?" he asked gently, his gaze locking with hers.

Rianna dropped her lashes. Emotion clogged her throat, making her reluctant to speak in case she embarrassed herself.

Kyle lifted her chin, stared into her eyes. His voice went low and intimate. "You're not upset about last night, are you? Did I move too fast? Do something that made you uncomfortable? Cross some invisible boundary?"

"No!" She cupped his face in her hands, wanting him to know that her mood had nothing to do with the physical side of their relationship. "Absolutely not. I loved every touch and kiss and caress. I swear it on my life. Last night was incredible," she whispered softly.

Some of the tension drained from his features. Before he could comment, Rianna pressed her lips to his. She slid her tongue into his mouth, trying to communicate without words. Trying to show him the emotion she couldn't describe.

The kiss was long and deep and sweet. Kyle's hands slid down her body, pulling her closer. She wrapped her arms around his neck, savoring the taste and feel of him. One kiss led to another and another.

Then guilt had her pulling back. She couldn't keep stalling or pretending everything was all right. He might not even want to touch her when he learned the whole truth. A tremor shook her at the dark thought.

He drew in a deep breath and then sighed heavily. His hands tightened at her hips, fingers massaging.

"Why don't you tell me what's bothering you?"

She dropped her gaze again. "I talked to Donald this morning. He had some bad news and some worse news."

She felt Kyle stiffen. He lifted her chin again and forced her to look at him. His eyes darkened stormily.

"Haroldson's been freed on bond?" he asked tightly.

"No!" Rianna shook her head vigorously. "At least, not yet, but his attorney is trying to sway a judge."

"That's no surprise." Kyle visibly relaxed. "Then, what's the latest development? Let's start with the bad news."

She stroked his face, smoothing his brows, the strong line of his jaw and the curve of his cheek. She loved touching him, and showed it in the tenderness of her caresses.

"Gregory's trying to make you out to be the bad guy."

Kyle's eyes narrowed. After a brief hesitation, he said, "We already assumed that. What's different?"

"He's claiming you assaulted his staff and threatening to file charges. Donald's sure they won't stick, but you should stay put until he gets things straightened out."

He seemed to relax a little more. "That's not so bad," he teased, sliding his hands to the small of her back and rubbing her through the soft fabric. "I like the idea of staying holed up with you for days or maybe even weeks."

Rianna didn't share his smile. "That's not the worst of it," she warned.

"So, what's the worst?"

"Gregory had some men vandalize your house. They destroyed a lot of your personal possessions and set it on fire." Rianna paused, swallowing the tears clogging her throat. "The house can be repaired, but your wood-shop burned to the ground."

Kyle went rigid. For a second, he looked so fierce and angry that her breathing faltered. She would have slid off his lap, but his hands tightened at her hips. She wouldn't blame him if he hated her and rued the day he'd met her, yet the thought of him harboring such feelings brought more tears to her eyes.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, hating her own shaky voice and emotional upheaval. "I'm so sorry that helping me means losing everything you've worked for, for so long."

"Don't!" he commanded, his voice rough. "Don't start blaming yourself for something totally out of your control."

"I can't help it," she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. She blinked rapidly. "You shouldn't be punished for doing what's right. It just isn't fair."

"It'll be okay," he insisted, visibly forcing himself to relax. "Everything's insured. I don't own anything that can't be replaced. Nothing."

"What about the things that belong to your customers or your grandfather? You said you refinish valuable antiques."

"I cleared all that stuff out of the shop before I left. The rest is just … stuff. Nothing special. Just things."

She gave him a dubious stare.

His features reflected a myriad of emotions, and then his expression went blank. She could tell that he'd deliberately blocked his own feelings to soothe hers. When she continued to stare at him in silence, he rationalized.

"In fact, Haroldson might have done me a favor. I have replacement insurance. I can get all those old, secondhand tools replaced with brand-new ones."

His attempt to make her feel better brought another rush of tears to her eyes. Try as she might, she couldn't keep a couple from spilling down her cheek.

Kyle groaned in protest,
then
flicked out his tongue to capture a teardrop. "Don't," he mumbled against her skin, licking and kissing his way down her cheek. "Don't cry. I can't stand it. All the bad news isn't worth one of your tears."

Rianna smothered a soft sob against his mouth. He returned her kiss gently at first, but she didn't want gentle. Badly needing reassurance, she kissed him with a force and hunger that quickly wiped everything but him from her mind. He pulled her tighter against his chest while they devoured each other with lips and tongues and teeth.

She strained to get closer, pressing her breasts against the solid wall of his chest and tightening her grip on his neck. Her thighs clenched around his and their bodies rocked against each other in rhythmic demand.

When they finally drew apart long enough to catch their breath, Kyle nuzzled her neck. He pressed hot kisses on the pulse frantically beating there.

Rianna sighed, wondering at his ability to make her forget everything but the taste and feel of his body. Then the guilt crept back into her thoughts.

"I still wish there was something I could do to make it better," she murmured against his cheek.

He deliberately misinterpreted her words. "There is something," he suggested, his breath warm on her ear.

"What?"

"You could take off your shirt."

Surprised, Rianna leaned back in his arms and stared at him. The gleam in his eyes was totally wicked and just as totally irresistible. It offered not only acceptance, but also the promise of the same sweet satisfaction she always found in his arms. The thought dried her tears, but she smacked him on the arm.

"You're so bad."

"Because you're so good."

Her laugh held a note of surprise, and warmth invaded her cheeks. He was bold and audacious and so impossibly sexy. She wanted to be bold and sexy, but didn't know how to go about it. Then Kyle took hold of her shirttail and slowly pulled it over her head.

She hadn't bothered with a bra.

The sudden darkening of his eyes as he stared at her made her breasts ache for attention.

"So beautiful," he murmured.

She felt the damp heat of his breath an instant before he took her into his mouth. A shiver raced over her as fire spiked from breast to womb. Her muscles clenched in passionate anticipation.

Burying her fingers in his hair, Rianna arched her back to give him better access. His body responded, his arousal swelling and pressing against her.

"There's another way you can make it up to me," he said, while shifting his mouth from one breast to the other.

"How's that?"

"Unsnap these damn jeans."

Rianna laughed softly, thrilled by his impatience and eager to do his bidding. In a matter of minutes, he'd coerced her from guilt ridden to highly
aroused
. Being with Kyle offered a roller coaster of emotions—one that she wanted to ride as long as possible.

* * *

Once they'd sated each other, they took a long, leisurely shower together. They didn't make love again, but they explored each other with an intimate thoroughness that kept their bodies singing with sexual tension.

After dressing, they spent what was left of the afternoon wandering around the grounds. They rechecked the security system and touched base with the agents posted at the front entrance and back property line.

The protection team worked eight-hour shifts, changing at
eight a.m.
,
four p.m.
and
midnight
. Rianna didn't know them, but she recognized a couple of names. She asked that her personal thanks be passed on to all the team members.

By early evening, they were ready to eat again, and finished off the leftover pot roast and pie. Then they settled in the living room to watch the eighteen-year-old video Donald had confiscated from the Haroldson estate.

Her family had been caught in the camera's eye at intervals during one of Gregory's early staff parties. First they'd been gathered around the buffet table, then their own table and finally near the dance floor.

Rianna wept quietly as the film progressed.

She'd been about ten at the time, with pigtails, missing front teeth, and a frilly party dress. Jimmy had worn new clothes, too, but she remembered him complaining about them being tight and uncomfortable. He'd been so small that he'd begged their dad to lift him so he could see everything.

Her mother looked wonderfully alive and heartbreakingly dear in those years before the lines of strain marked her lovely skin. Her father had been so young and handsome and confident, his features free of the constant worry she'd seen in the years after he'd left Gregory's employ.

For just an instant in time, Rianna had them back again and felt whole. Even though the video was of poor quality, she'd treasure it always. It held a rare glimpse of her family when they'd still been normal and happy.