she cocked her head. “Do you know who it is you’re tracking?”
“I thought I did.” No way was he giving her a name.
“Then you know how high the stakes are. And that the playing field is a rather…challenging one.”
“If you say so.” Finn had never gone up against this particular adversary, but after even the least bit of research, he’d realized that for once, he might be getting in over his head. A little. But he’d taken the case anyway. At the time, he’d have said that he’d signed on because he was certain that he was as capable as anyone to retrieve the priceless gemstone, regardless of who else was after it. He certainly had the best platform to work from, in both financing and talent. And, frankly, if he didn’t get it back for his client, no one would. No one else had the interests of a bastard child at heart. The rest of the players were motivated only by greed. Not by doing what was right.
But now that he was here, it was impossible to deny that the entire time he’d been compiling the information he used to make such decisions, he’d wondered, given the players he’d discovered could potentially be in play on this, if Felicity would be in the game as well.
In the end, it had been an opportunity he couldn’t pass up. His partners had no idea how big a risk he was taking. For the first time, he’d been less than completely open with them regarding the details, assuring them he was on top of things as they both had their hands full with other matters. He only hoped they, not to mention his client, wouldn’t be the ones ultimately paying the price. Whatever the case, it was too late now. He was committed. And he was here. He’d have to find some way to deal with Felicity Jane, along with whoever else popped up, and see that the job got done, with him walking away the victor.
“So,” she went on, drawing lazy patterns on his thigh with her toes. “If you know who you’re up against, why aren’t you off continuing the chase rather than sitting here, chatting with me? I’ve got nothing left to offer you, I’m afraid.”
Finn abruptly clamped down on her ankles, trapping her there, keeping her toes pressed hard against his thigh. Their gazes locked, and he was gratified to see the knowledge dawn in her eyes that perhaps she was playing with fire here. The problem was she didn’t appear any more put off by the idea than he was.
He slowly drew her down the bed, until her arms were stretched over her head. The shackles locking her wrists to the wrought-iron headboard kept her in place as he smoothly rolled to straddle her thighs, releasing her legs only when the weight of his body replaced his hands in pinning her down.
She didn’t fight him, or look remotely alarmed. If anything, she looked…excited.
He levered his body over hers, tracing his hands up along her arms, over the wrist shackles, until he could weave his fingers through hers. She arched up into him, causing him to swallow a groan of satisfaction as the rigid length of him came into contact with the softest part of her. He managed to find the strength to resist the urge—like a primal directive—to drill his hips into hers.
Instead, he brought his mouth within a whisper of her lips. “I would never say you have nothing to offer.”
Her lips parted, and she moved sinuously beneath him, torturing them both. “Who said I was offering anything? You have me at quite the disadvantage.”
He released one of her hands and slid his hand to his belt. Two quick flicks of a lethal-looking little penknife later, she was free. He tossed his knife on the nightstand and immediately trapped her hands to the bed, once again weaving his fingers through hers. She didn’t take the forced intimacy passively, but curled her fingers to hold his hands just as tightly. Their gazes were once again locked. Fused, almost, it seemed. He wouldn’t have been remotely surprised to see steam fill the room, just from the look they were sharing.
“And now?” he asked.
She used the sides of his shoes to loosen the tie binding her ankles, then slipped her feet from the silk noose. An instant later, she was digging her toes into the backs of his calves as she wound her legs around his, tightening the pressure of his hips against hers.
She moved beneath him, and, this time, he was helpless not to move in response. Less than forty-eight hours on the job and he was jeopardizing everything. She was right. He had no business here, certainly none with her. And he didn’t give a flat damn. He’d waited two years for this. For her. Or maybe he’d waited his entire life.
“Now,” she said, gasping herself as he pushed against her, “now I want to know what you have to offer me.”
Chapter 2
She’d lost her mind. It was the only explanation.
Two years had passed. Two years. Yet, nothing had changed. One grin—one flash of those white teeth—and the calculating professional who always put mission first, self second, vanished. And some inner sex kitten she didn’t even know took over. What in the hell did she think she was doing?
She could lie to herself and say she was just doing what she had to in order to extricate herself from a less than promising situation.
And a lie it would be.
Two years. She’d almost managed to get the charming bastard out of her thoughts. She’d never get him out of her dreams. That, she could live with. She’d reconciled herself to that much. But now here he was, still larger than life, still cocky as hell, and pulling her right back into that same sexual fog she’d barely escaped from last time. If you could call being left naked and shackled an escape. Lord only knew where she’d have ended up if he hadn’t chosen to leave her when he did. She couldn’t even be all that angry at the manner in which he’d left her. She’d certainly deserved worse, considering the clams. Besides, he’d done her a favor. Another few hours spent wrapped around him and who knew what secrets she might have been tempted to spill? He already knew far too much about her, and she was still clueless as to why he’d let her get away with it. Twice.
She’d teased him about his business integrity, but she’d always known Finn Dalton was one of the good guys. Which, considering that he was also the epitome of a bad boy, was quite an intoxicating mix. And doubly dangerous. To her, and to her mission. That night in Prague, she’d been oh-so tempted to do what she’d never done before: confide in someone, bring him in on her secret.
Thank God he’d left her when he had. Naked or not.
That had been her mantra every day since. For a time, she’d thought she actually believed it.
She moved her hips beneath his, fighting the internal battle of want over need, losing it handily, and not particularly caring. He made it easy to play the siren. One look from him and she felt like some primal creature whose only directive was to melt him down to his most basic essence. It was a wonder they both hadn’t gone up in flames the last time they’d tangled. Twice now they’d danced on the edge, twice now she’d been lucky to get out unscathed. The first time had been pure luck. But that last time…He could have ruined her, personally and professionally, had he chosen to. She had no idea why he hadn’t. Which made what she was doing right now the epitome of foolishness.
If she entertained the thought, even for a second, that she could control him through sex, then she deserved whatever she got.
“Actually,” he said, teasing the corner of her mouth with a brush of his lips, “I want to take you up on your proposition.”
Her
