Page 65 of Hotter than Wildfire

He continued staring straight ahead. “There was nothing you could do for your agent. And it had nothing to do with you. Montez is a bad guy and your agent was caught right in the middle of his machinations. Just bad luck, like being run over by a truck. You can’t beat yourself up over it, it won’t do you any good and above all, it won’t do him any good. The only person to profit would be that fu—would be Gerald, because you’ll be a little less alert.”

He was right, of course he was right.

“Besides, you’ve got other things to think about. Like my tax return. We’re all going to dump tons of pieces of paper on you and man, you’re going to regret your offer.”

No, she wouldn’t. She was actually looking forward to it. “Nicole comes first.”

He dipped his head briefly, and a touch of a smile crossed his face. “Of course. Ladies first.”

“No, not because ladies come first but because she figured out what happened in Kabul. That deserves a reward.”

“Yeah.” He frowned. “I can’t believe she’s better at some types of computer research than I am.”

Ellen laughed. She laughed. When was the last time she laughed? Over a year ago, surely. It felt odd, and came out a little rusty, but it was definitely a laugh.

He slanted her a glance. “Sounds good, you laughing.”

“Yeah,” she whispered, surprised at herself. It felt good, too. With all her troubles, and she had a mountain of them, she felt her spirits rise.

Her situation in general sucked, and she had no future to speak of, but right this second, life was good. She was very safe right now, in a vehicle that she was sure was armoured, with Harry at the wheel. Gentle, sexy Harry, who was good with violence. He wielded it like a surgeon wields a scalpel, for her, not against her.

In the vehicles in front of her were three people who were fast becoming her friends, two of them warriors.

Amazingly, all of them had gathered her into their little circle of protection and friendship. Crazily enough, though she was in terrible trouble, she’d never felt so safe. So safe, so warm, so protected.

Don’t get used to it, she warned herself. Because it would be easy to just sink into it, like into a warm bath, and never get out. There would be a deadline to all of this, no doubt. Harry and Sam and Mike would be working to come up with a plan for her. A place to go, documents to fit into a new life that they’d conjure up out of thin air.

They’d do a better job of it than she could. Would she have a say in what life they chose for her? Music was out, of course. At the thought, a heavy lump of lead settled into her chest. No more music, no more singing, not even amateur singing in a choir. Her voice was too well known by now. Somehow Gerald must have traced her back through her music, so music was out.

Accountancy, too, of course. Even she knew you don’t take up your old profession when on the run.

She didn’t want to waitress any more. It had been fun for a while but it was hard drudgery and for better or worse, she had lots of money stashed away, so she didn’t have to do it.

Maybe a job in a bookstore? She liked reading. Or, or…her mind turned blank when Harry took her hand again, raised it to his mouth. This time the kiss wasn’t reassuring, it was pure sex. She felt his warm lips, the slight bite of beard even though he’d shaved. His mouth lingered, a touch of tongue and she suddenly flashed on last night. How his beard had scraped her shoulder as he kissed and lightly bit his way down to her breast.

He’d stopped moving in her, hot and hard and heavy inside her, while he kissed his way to her breast. Then he’d lifted his head, fierce golden gaze locked to her eyes. Sliding his hips forward to be more deeply into her.

Oh God, just remembering made heat blossom all through her body.

Harry chuckled. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“I’m red, aren’t I?” Her voice was resigned.

“Like a stoplight, honey.” The little convoy took a corner and she looked blindly out the window, trying to cool off a little. His voice roughened.

“I don’t blush but—" He took her hand and put it over his groin. Right over the hot steel column in his pants. It was a shocking thing to do. Probably she should protest, but there wasn’t any blood in her head to think, and all the air had left her lungs. “I’m thinking of the same thing you are.”

He pressed his hand down hard over hers and she gasped as she felt his penis jump, lengthening a little. It had done exactly the same thing last night when she’d nipped him under his ear. It hadn’t been planned, she hadn’t thought it out. It had been instinct, an urgent curiosity to find out what he tasted like, and whether he liked being lightly bit as much as she did.

The answer had been yes. Hell yes.

She’d felt the pulse of new blood flooding into his penis buried deep inside her and her vagina had clenched tightly. Thinking of it, remembering it, her hand instinctively tightened around him and the breath exploded out of his body.

“God.” The word came out rough. His jaws were clenched, muscles rippling up to his temples. She’d have said he was in pain if it weren’t for the fact that his hand tightened over hers to keep it right where it was.

His eyes quartered the street. “We’re going to be at the Morrison Building in about four minutes. Where am I going to go with this?” His hand clenched around hers and his penis surged again against the palm of her hand.

Blood suffused her face, her hands trembled. The little convoy was slowing down, soon they’d be parking and the two of them would have to emerge from this SUV with her burning face and his erection.