Caught in the Act (37 page)

“I just need to shower.”

He didn’t have anything clean to sleep in, either, so she left the shorts for him. While he ducked into the bathroom, she put on his large T-shirt and knee-high socks. Feeling cozy, she slipped under the covers. He came out of the shower five minutes later, smelling delicious and looking even better. There was a fist-sized bruise on his chest. As he turned to switch off the main light, she saw another painful-looking mark on his back.

The sight filled her with a disturbing mixture of emotions. Helplessness, because he had a dangerous job. Guilt, because she’d brought more danger to him. And fear, because she’d just lost someone she loved.

She couldn’t bear to go through that again.

“I want to talk to you,” he said as he settled in beside her, “but it can wait. I know you need to sleep.”

She turned the other way, letting him cuddle her back. He slid his arm around her waist and buried his face in her hair, inhaling as if her scent comforted him. “I’m sorry for what I said to you this afternoon,” she whispered, her voice raspy.

“Don’t worry about it. You were upset.”

“I didn’t mean it.”

He kissed her shoulder, silent.

“When I saw you in the hospital bed, I thought you were hurt. I’d just buried my sister. It was too much for me to handle.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t call. I wish I’d been there for you.”

She covered his hand with hers, stroking his knuckles. “I felt so alone at the funeral, and I was so angry with Moreno. I wanted to blame someone for my sister’s death. But I know it wasn’t your fault.”

“It wasn’t your fault, either.”

Tears filled her eyes. “I’m glad you came after me.”

“Always,” he said simply.

Kari didn’t want to think about gunfire or explosions. She was too traumatized to process what had happened earlier. Her heart was still broken from her sister’s death, her feelings too complicated to sort through.

“None of the men hurt you?” he asked.

She shook her head. There was no reason to tell him about the punch in the stomach. He would only get upset.

He pressed his lips to her hair. “I know you told the
doctor they didn’t touch you, but I wanted to make sure.”

Letting her eyes drift shut, she stroked his arm, enjoying his strength and protectiveness. There was more to say, but her throat was tender, and words didn’t seem important right now. She was safe, and he was here, and everything was okay.

26

Maria waited for Ian, her stomach fluttering with anticipation.

She’d leapt at the chance to switch rooms. Kari needed to work things out with Adam, and Maria wanted to be with Ian. She doubted she’d be able to return to the United States, so this might be her last opportunity to spend time with him.

When he came out of the bathroom, a towel slung low on his hips, he did a double take, surprised to see her. His hair was damp and still a little shaggy, but his face was clean-shaven. Although Maria had seen him shirtless before, she gave his chest a close study.

Very nice.

“What are you doing here?”

She lifted her gaze to meet his. “Adam asked to stay with Kari.”

He didn’t seem bothered by his friend’s tricky maneuver or alarmed by Maria’s presence. The rooms were spacious, with two large beds in each, so he could keep his distance if he wanted to.

“Have you eaten?”

She nodded.

“I’d offer you some clothes, but I don’t have any.”

“I see that,” she said, her eyes drifting south again. “I’m comfortable in this.” The towel she was wearing felt too brief. She wished she had a nightgown.

While she rose to get a drink of water from the bathroom, he limped over to the bed, sitting down and shoving a couple of pillows behind his head.

“Can I sleep with you?” she asked, taking a sip from her cup.

“Next to me, you mean?”

“In your bed.”

He examined the fluffy bath towel, which covered her from chest to mid-thigh. “Sure.”

Smiling, she set her glass on the nightstand and grabbed a pillow from the other bed, settling in beside him. It felt good to be clean. “Thank you for resuscitating me,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I didn’t resuscitate you. You never stopped breathing.”

“I mean saving me. I do not know the right word.”

“Rescue,” he supplied. “But Kari did most of the work. She got you up the stairs and almost out the door.”

“She said she wouldn’t leave me,” Maria remembered, her eyes becoming misty. “She is a good friend.”

He murmured a vague agreement, staring at her bare legs.

“Adam is a good friend to you?”

“Uh … yeah. We’ve known each other forever.”

“Is he in love with Kari?”

“I think so.”

Maria hoped they would be happy together. “I will miss her.”

When he straightened in surprise, she was forced to lift her head off his shoulder. “What do you mean?” he asked. “Where are you going?”

“Home.”

“Why?”

She frowned at him. “Because I’m illegal.”

“That didn’t stop you before.”

“I also haven’t seen my family in four years.” She decided not to mention her third reason for staying in Mexico: Armando’s letter. Ian might be scruffy-looking, but he was still some kind of cop. “I want to visit them.”

He examined her face for a long moment, his expression grave. “You don’t have to be illegal, Maria.”

She tilted her head to one side, curious.

“You could marry me.”

Maria wondered if her English had failed her again. Surely he hadn’t just asked her to marry him. “What?”

A flush crept up his neck and his eyes blazed with intensity, more green than brown. But he didn’t swallow his offer. “Marry me.”

“As in husband and wife?” she asked, pointing at the bed underneath them.

He nodded once, his mouth tense. Without the unruly beard, his face appeared twice as angular, all smooth and chiseled. Her fingers itched to touch the skin along his jawline. “It can be in name only.”

“What does that mean?”

He didn’t beat around the bush. “No sex.”

“No sex?” she repeated, her voice rising. “Why would you want that?”

He laughed, massaging the bridge of his nose. “I wouldn’t.”

Maria blinked a few times, not following. Then everything became clear and her stomach filled with dread. He was asking her to marry him out of a sense of obligation. He would make her a citizen and not even demand that she have sex with him. It wasn’t an offer but a sacrifice.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. She wouldn’t get married for a green card or because she was desperate. They would both regret it. Especially when he found a woman he truly wanted to be with. “You’re very kind, but no.”

Ian didn’t appear relieved. He flinched at the word
kind
and clenched his jaw, acknowledging her refusal without speaking.

Uh-oh. She’d caused insult by turning him down too quickly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Maria. Forget about it.”

She couldn’t bear to end the night this way, with his ego bruised and her heart aching. Lifting her hand to his face, she touched his cheek, feeling the freshly shaved skin beneath her fingertips. His eyes met hers, guarded. “I can’t marry you for the wrong reasons. And if I did, I would not want you in name only.”

He seemed to understand what she was getting at. His gaze dropped to her lips, which were just inches from his.

Maria felt warmth spread through her belly, the same tingling excitement she’d experienced at the Hotel del Oro. Only now she was totally awake and aware of what was happening between them.

She brushed her mouth over his, light as a butterfly.
He moistened his lips, as if tasting her on them, and she followed suit, licking where he’d licked. Then she studied her handiwork. His mouth was wet from her tongue and that looked sexy to her. She wondered if her mouth looked sexy to him. He was staring at it, enthralled.

She touched her lips to his again and he reacted instantly, lifting his hand to her hair and crushing his mouth over hers. He thrust his tongue inside, plunging between her parted lips. The kiss was intimate, possessive, erotic.

Maria twined her arms around his neck, giddy with pleasure. His fingers tightened in her hair and his arousal swelled against her hip, persistent.

That part of him concerned her. She knew that men were dangerous in this state. Although she felt safe with Ian, she didn’t want to whip him into a frenzy. Her towel slipped down, pooling around her waist. When he cupped her small breast, groaning as if her meager endowments were male fantasy material, she knew he’d gone off the deep end.

“Ian,” she murmured, breaking the kiss.

He rubbed his thumb over her hard nipple in a slow circle.

She moaned, arching her spine. Then she realized that she was squirming against his erection, playing with fire. When he tried to lower his mouth to her breast, she dug her fingernails into his forearm. “Wait.”

His eyes met hers, still smoldering with intensity. He was breathing heavily, his body hard and ready. But he didn’t seem angry or displeased. As promised, he could stop anytime, controlling his desire.

That, as much as his heroic actions earlier and the
strong emotional bond they’d created, made her want to continue.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his throat working. “Those bastards raped you, didn’t they?”

“No. Moreno told them not to touch me.”

The concern on his face didn’t clear, but it eased considerably. “You hit your head.”

“It doesn’t hurt anymore. I’m fine.”

His gaze dropped to her exposed breasts. They swelled at his attention, the dusky nipples puckered. He moistened his lips, distracted.

Maria didn’t know whether to cover up or disrobe completely. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Done what?”

“Been with a man. By choice.”

Understanding dawned. “Do you want to?”

“Yes, but I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m afraid.”

“Of what? Me hurting you?”

“No,” she said, confused. He would never harm her on purpose. “I don’t like to feel … 
atrapada
.”

“Trapped, as in held down underneath me?”

She nodded.

His lips curved into a smile. “It doesn’t have to be that way, Maria.”

“No?”

“You can be on top.”

“No,” she said, her cheeks burning.

He chuckled at her shyness. “We don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. I’d be happy just to kiss you.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

She cast a worried glance at his lap. His erection strained against the damp towel, its outline intimidating.

“I can’t make that go away,” he said ruefully. “You’re half naked and so beautiful I can’t stand it.”

Tears filled her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she pushed aside her own towel, revealing herself completely.

He stared at her breasts, her belly, the dark triangle between her legs. “Jesus,” he said, swallowing hard.

“Is this okay? You can stay calm?”

He tore his gaze away from her. “I can promise that I won’t put anything inside you unless you want me to. But I can’t control my hard-on, and I’m extremely excited right now. I could come just looking at you.”

A thrill raced along her spine. She almost didn’t recognize the unique sensation for what it was: power.

Ian had put the reins in her hands. They could take this as far as she wanted. If she told him to hold still while she trailed kisses all over his beautiful chest, he wouldn’t complain. He would like it. He would let her do it.

Heat tingled between her legs and gooseflesh broke out over her skin. Her nipples, already tight beads, seemed to quiver in anticipation. She slipped her arms around his neck and pressed her breasts to his chest, careful not to bump against the bandage on his thigh. He splayed his hands across her back, stroking her sides.

With a breathy little moan, she lowered her mouth to his.

This kiss was even more exciting than their first, probably because she was naked. He also let her control the
depth. She threaded her fingers through his hair and drew his tongue into her mouth, sucking gently. Although he was an active participant, kissing her passionately and caressing her bare skin, she had the upper hand.

Writhing against him, she grasped his wrist, bringing his palm to her breast. He squeezed her soft flesh, brushing his thumb over the sensitive tip.

She arched into his touch, wanting more.

When he dipped his head again, she didn’t stop him. She watched as he flicked his tongue over one taut nipple, then the other.

“Ay Dios, que rico,”
she moaned, amazed that her small breasts could give either of them this much pleasure. Every rasp of his tongue made her sex pulse with awareness. She squirmed against him, trying to ease the ache.

He splayed his palm over her belly, feeling it quiver.

“Please,” she said, pushing his hand lower.

Groaning, he traced the cleft of her sex with his fingertips, finding her moisture. She spread her legs wide, whimpering as he touched her. True to his promise, he didn’t dip his fingers inside. He merely circled her opening, whispering in her ear about how much he wanted to taste her. When he drew her earlobe between his teeth and strummed her sweet spot with his fingertips, she exploded in ecstasy.