Diana Palmer Collected 1-6. Diana Palmer

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if anything happened to you here.”

      “And that’s why you want me in the same room with you?” she probed delicately.

      “Not quite,” he admitted, watching her. “I want you in the same room because I’ve dreamed of holding you in my arms all night. I won’t make any blatant passes at you, Gabby, but the feel of you in the bed will light up my darkness in ways I can’t explain to you.”

      She felt her heart hammering. He made it sound wildly erotic, to be held close to that massive body all night long, to go to sleep in his arms. Her breath caught in her throat; her eyes looked up into his and her blood surged in her veins.

      His fingers moved down to her throat, stroking it with a deliberately sensuous lightness. “Is your blood running as hot as mine is right now?” he asked under his breath. “Does your body want the feel of mine against it?”

      He bent and tilted her face up to his, so that he could watch her expression. His mouth opened as it brushed against hers.

      “Stand very still,” he whispered, opening her mouth with his. “Very, very still…”

      She gasped as his hard, moist lips began to merge with her own. She tasted him, actually tasted the essence of him, as he built the intensity of the kiss. His hands moved down her back, bringing her torso against his and letting her soft breasts crush against the hardness of his chest. His teeth nipped roughly at her mouth as he drew slowly away. His eyes were blazing—fierce and passionate and hungry.

      “I like it hard,” he said under his breath. “Will I frighten you?”

      She barely managed to shake her head before he bent again. This time it was a tempest, not the slight breeze of before. He lifted her in his hard arms and she felt the heat in him as his mouth opened wide. She felt his tongue go inside her mouth in a fencing motion that made her feel hot all over and dragged a smothered moan from her throat.

      She was trembling, and her body couldn’t seem to get close enough to his. She clung to him, trying to weld herself to him, but before she could move, he was putting her on her feet. His eyes blazed wildly in his pale face.

      “No more of that,” he said heavily. He freed her abruptly, and the blood rushed back into her upper arms, making her aware of the pressure of his unconscious hold on her. “My God, you were trembling all over.”

      She felt naked under his glittering gaze. She’d never been vulnerable like that with anyone, but to have it happen with J.D. was terrifying.

      “I feel funny,” she said with a shaky laugh.

      “Do you?” He took a deep breath and drew her head to his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Gabby. I’m not used to virgins.”

      “That never happened to me before.” She hadn’t meant to confess it, but the words came tumbling out involuntarily.

      “Yes, I felt that,” he murmured. His hands, tangled in her hair, gently drew her closer to him so that her cheek rested against his chest. “Gabby, do you know what I’d like to do? I’d like to take off my shirt and feel your cheek against my skin, your lips on my body…” He groaned and suddenly pushed her away, turning on his heel. Gabby stood behind him and ached for what he’d just described.

      “How long have we worked together…two years?” he asked in an odd tone. “And we spend two days posing as lovers and this happens. Maybe bringing you along wasn’t such a good idea.”

      “You said you needed me,” she reminded him.

      “Gabby, just don’t tempt me, all right?”

      “Do what?” she asked blankly, looking up at him with dazed eyes.

      “Damn!” he growled and then sighed. “Gabby, what I’m trying to say is, let’s not get emotional.”

      “You’re the one who’s cursing, counselor, not me,” she reminded him coldly. “And I didn’t start kissing you!”

      “You helped,” he reminded her, his eyes narrow. “You’d be a joy to initiate.”

      “I am not sleeping with you!”

      His knuckles brushed her mouth, silencing her. “I was teasing. I won’t do anything to you that you’ll regret, Gabby, that’s a promise. No sex.”

      She swallowed. “You scare me.”

      “Why?”

      “Because of the way you make me feel,” she confessed. “I didn’t expect it.”

      “Neither did I. You’re a heady wine, honey. One I don’t dare drink much of.” He lifted his hand to her hair. “You could be habit-forming to a man like me, who’s been alone too long.”

      “Maybe I’d better resign when we get back…” she began, shaken as much by what she was feeling as by what he was telling her.

      “No!” he said curtly. His fingers caught the nape of her neck and held on. “No. This is all just a moment out of time, Gabby. It’s no reason to start getting panicky. Besides,” he added heavily, “there’s still Martina. And God only knows how this will turn out.”

      She went icy cold. “Jacob, please don’t go with the others.”

      “I have to,” he said simply.

      “You could get killed,” she said.

      He nodded. “That could happen. But Martina is all I have in the world, the only person I’ve ever loved. I can’t turn my back on her, not now. I could never call myself a man again.”

      What could she say to that? He touched her cheek lightly and left her alone in the room. She watched the door close with a sense of utter disaster. It didn’t help that she was beginning to understand why she trembled so violently at his touch.

      J.D. had always disturbed her, from the very first. But she’d assumed that it was because of the kind of man he was. Now, she didn’t know. Just looking at him made her ache. And he’d kissed her…how he’d kissed her! As if he were hungry for her, for her alone.

      She shook herself. Probably he just needed a woman and she was handy. He’d said not to get herself involved, and she wasn’t going to. Just because she was all excited at the prospect of being part of a covert operation, that was no reason to go overboard for J.D.

      She wondered at the way he’d reacted when she’d asked if he had been one of the group before. Didn’t he remember that he’d told her he’d served in the Special Forces?

      It was fifteen minutes before she rejoined the men, wearing jeans and a loose pullover top and boots. J.D. studied her long and hard, his eyes clearly approving the modest gear.

      She stared back at him. He seemed like a different man, sitting there in jungle fatigues and holding some small weapon in his big hands.

      “The Uzi,” he told her when she approached and stared at the miniature machine gun curiously.

      “And what’s that?” she asked, nodding toward a nasty-looking oversize rifle with a long torpedo-like thing on

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