Whispered Lies

Her hands slipped around his back, climbing up his spine, honing the edge of desire that charged through him.

The first time he’d kissed her had been an unexpected pleasure, but nothing like this one, that burned with a fever pitch. His mouth feasted on hers, taking all she gave to him willingly. If she’d held back or hesitated, he might have been able to pull out of the spi

He pulled her closer, loving the feel of her. A real woman with curves in all the right places and perfectly shaped. His fingers lifted the back of her cashmere sweater from the waistband of her pants, then he felt the smooth skin hidden beneath the gossamer fabric. Soft, like her. He inched his fingers up her back, nothing impeding his progress.

Nothing. As in, no bra.

Carlos groaned. She was practically naked in his hands.

She rubbed her hips against him, right where he was hard as the rock walls surrounding this compound.

The surge of heat that shot up through his groin shook him.

She wanted this as much as he did, so why not?

Clearly, the wrong brain had taken over doing the thinking.

Her hands moved between them, clutching at his shirt, turning him on more even, though her movements were awkward at times as if she had little experience. Definite turn-on.

He’d had women who knew every way to touch a man.

Gabrielle was fresh and eager in a way that felt i

She lifted the bottom of his shirt. Her delicate hands sent shivers up his spine with the way she touched his abs, lightly, then more boldly. She shoved the material up farther and lowered her head to kiss his abdomen.

Her fingers moved ahead, playfully caressing his nipples then pausing at…the scar on his chest.

The Anguis tattoo.

If she found out…what little sanity he had left gnawed its way through the desire frying his brain. He still didn’t know how much she knew about the Anguis. Carlos pulled his hands quickly to her shoulders before she lifted his shirt another inch. When he set her away as gently as he could, his shirttail dropped.

Hallelujah for gravity.

Confusion glazed her eyes.

A knock sounded at the front door.

Good thing, since he did not want to answer the questions percolating behind that gaze. He didn’t want to lose the ground he’d gained either. Carlos dipped his head and gave her a quick kiss, then whispered, “I’ll answer the door. You straighten your clothes.”

She gasped, looking down at herself, where the worst part was her knit top pulled loose, but it bought him a quick out.

He shoved his shirttail into his pants and slipped on the shades as he strode to the door, then opened it. “Yes?”

Pierre was back. “Is Mademoiselle ready?” He tried to peer around Carlos.

“She’ll be right out.” Carlos closed the door without another word and turned as Gabrielle walked out of the bedroom, neat as a pin.

She had that look, as if she wanted to talk, but he put his finger to his lips to spare himself a conversation he really didn’t want right now. He winked at her.

Gabrielle rolled her eyes. She was fully composed when he opened the door wide to reveal Pierre still standing in the same place.

“Hello, Pierre.” Gabrielle stepped forward, forcing the little squirt to back up. “I’d like to see the IT center and get started.”

The efficient Pierre nodded and turned to leave.

Carlos stepped out behind Gabrielle and closed the door, but when he turned around, she hadn’t moved.

She covered her mouth with her palm and leaned toward Carlos, speaking for his ears only. “If you plan to stay in there with me, we’re not finished with that conversation.”

SIXTEEN

I’D LIKE OUR meal sent up to the room at eight thirty,” Gabrielle told Pierre, who’d written the order on a notepad as she’d dictated. She kept her step brisk, her heels snapping against the hard floors on her way back to her room.

“Oui. Will there be anything else for this evening?”

“No, thank you.” She checked her watch. That would give her and Carlos a little over an hour when no one should bother them. She glanced back at her bodyguard, whose hard expression hadn’t changed since walking out of the room seven hours ago.

What was going on behind those bloody sunshades?

At the last hallway leading to her room, Pierre peeled off in a different direction.

Carlos reached the door first, punching in the code, then let her step inside. “Stay here while I check everything.”

Did he really think someone would be lurking inside? She waited until he stepped out of the bedroom and crooked a finger for her to come to him.

She walked forward, but he stepped back into the bedroom before she reached him. When she got inside, he pulled her close to him. Gabrielle slapped both hands on his chest and shoved her face up into his.

“Not until we talk,” she warned, disgusted that every nerve in her body had just jumped into high gear, ready to let him get away with kissing her again.

To get away with a lot more.

She had some pride left. No more hot kisses until he explained why he’d stopped the last time.

The only reason she could figure was that he got caught up in the moment, but wasn’t interested in anything sexual with her. That possibility stung almost as bad as having him yell at her to put clothes on in the cabin.

He didn’t find her physically attractive.

Carlos didn’t say a word, but he didn’t intimidate her either. He’d never harm her, physically. She knew that with a certainty she’d never felt about any other man, which weighed heavily in his favor when it came to kissing him.

They had been halfway to the part where they fell into bed together. She hadn’t dated a man in forever, and sex had become a distant memory.

But she wanted him to feel the same heat for her.

Her moral compass spun out of control over the idea of sleeping with a man she didn’t know anything about, whom he worked for, where he came from, or what would happen once this was over. But she’d married a man she knew all that about only to be treated like a bank account with legs. Roberto had used her in more ways than one, leaving her emotionally bankrupt.

Just once, she’d like to experience true passion.

But she and Carlos only had an hour, so she didn’t have time for a discussion. She had to get down to business.

“We have to hurry,” she started in a hushed voice.

“About that kiss-,” he murmured. Was that guilt rippling through his voice?

“We don’t have time for that right now.” She almost smiled at his confusion. “First, I have to take this panic button off. When I stepped near a communication console, it buzzed and everyone looked up. I don’t know why it happened. Next, I got into Amelia’s records. She’s expected back, at least on paper. I found the plans for this compound in the archives and the floor her room is on.”

Understanding dawned in his eyes. “Stick the panic button in my bag. Put on soft-soled shoes. Tell me you’re taking a nap and don’t want to be bothered. Speak loud enough to be heard in the living room and use that snobby tone again.”

Snobby? She curled her lip in what she hoped was a feral look.

His eyes crinkled, but he didn’t laugh. “I’m not criticizing. I was impressed.”

Her insides melted over the compliment. She backed out of his arms and quietly pulled her sneakers from the suitcase. Once she had those on, she took a fortifying breath before speaking loud enough for anyone listening to hear.

“Jet lag is catching up to me. I need a nap and I don’t want to be disturbed.”

Carlos walked out into the living room so she followed him. He closed the bedroom door with a solid thump, then pulled her over to the powder room and closed that door softly once they were both inside.