“Good night, Lennox.”
“Good night.”
After he closed the door behind him, she used the bathroom, then got back in bed. But this time, she turned the ceiling fan on. After her encounter with Roland, she needed it.
• • •
Roland knew the last place he wanted to be right now was back in bed. Not when physical need was consuming him, though. So he decided the smarter thing to do was go outside and get some air. And while he was out there, he would check around.
Slipping into his jeans, he turned off the security alarm and held his Glock firmly in his hand while opening thedoor. It was dark as the dickens outside and he appreciated the stars and the moon in the sky, which added some semblance of light.
Stepping onto the porch, he took a moment to breathe in the June air. The temperature in Pennsylvania this time of year resembled that in Virginia. The only difference was that June was the wettest month in Virginia, while in Pennsylvania, July got the most rain. When he had spoken to Striker earlier, he’d barely been able to hear him for the thunderstorms.
So far, there’d been nothing new to report. Hopefully, those looking for Lennox had taken the bait and would search for her in a different direction. The FBI had placed the decoy in Florida—the perfect place, since he and Lennox would be headed to the Rockies. Dak had a secured place for them to stay once they got there.
After checking the perimeter of the cottage, he returned to the porch and sat down on the steps. When he had entered Lennox’s bedroom, he hadn’t known what he would find. But he certainly hadn’t expected to see the woman of his dreams standing there, wearing a pair of short pajamas that barely covered skin that looked smooth, bronzed and oh, so tempting.
Especially since she hadn’t been wearing a bra. He could tell—a glimpse of her nipples pressing against her top had given her away.
The sight had nearly made him lose his mind. He was a breast and leg man. He’d had a good view of those legs in stilettos plenty of times, but he’d never seen her breasts. And at this moment, he desperately wanted to.
Her shorts had clung to her curvy thighs and just looking at her had made blood rush to his head. Both of them. And from there, he’d been inundated with thoughts of just what he wanted to do to her.
When he had crouched down to pick up the luggage, he’d been tempted to reach out and touch those sleek legs he admired so much.
Lennox Roswell was the total package—an unbelievably beautiful woman who could tempt a saint. But her life was in danger. And he had promised he’d protect her.
But the chemistry they’d always had was flaring up again, and that could be a problem. Because, right now, they were both in danger. He needed to keep his head in the game if he was going to get the two of them out of this situation alive.
He heard an owl in the distance and the night sounds of several species of insects. Other than that, they were alone. And here he sat, so very tempted to taste that delectable mouth…
He had to get a grip—he couldn’t be distracted. Their only chance at outrunning the men after Lennox was to keep their relationship professional, so they could focus on what was important. He refused to remember that things had gone that way between his niece and Striker. Margo had started off as an assignment and ended up being the love of Striker’s life.
But he’d already met, and lost, the love of his life. All he felt toward Lennox was desire and nothing more. But damn, it was powerful. Just the low, raspy sound of her voice tonight, when he’d moved close to her, had nearly done him in. And he would guess that her voice would geteven lower when in the throes of pleasure. Pleasure that he wanted so badly to give her.
He’d made the mistake of taking a lock of her hair between his fingers and a surge of need had shot through him. His body had felt hot, unbearably hot. He’d been tempted to take another shower. A cold one, this time. Maybe two. Hell, if it wasn’t so risky, he would even run around this damn cottage a few times. Do a thousand push-ups. Go take a swim in that lake.
A short while later he got up and went back inside. Tomorrow would be another day. Another challenge. More temptation. But hopefully, no danger. It had been a long time since he’d shared a bed with a woman sexually and being around Lennox was reminding him of that fact.
It was a reminder he could do without.
EIGHT DAYS LATER, ROLANDand Lennox were still at the cottage. They’d decided to stay put until they were absolutely certain it was safe to travel. Roland checked in with his network team every morning and spoke with Stonewall, Quasar or Striker multiple times a day.
Lennox still hadn’t recovered from seeing an almost naked Roland their first night here. Since then, she hadn’t given him a reason to come barging into the bedroom with his gun drawn, looking like a man ready to kick-ass.
Now though, he looked bored. She knew he was always on high alert, usually checking the perimeter of the cottage several times a day, to make sure nothing or no one invaded their space.
She, on the other hand, typically she spent most of her time in the bedroom, reading. Whenever she did come out of the room in need of a change of scenery, she often found him sprawled over the sofa, a jean-clad leg stretched across the back cushion, watching television, with his Glock within reach.
His position made him appear to be relaxed…but she knew different. He was aware of every sound that was made inside, or outside, the cabin. But the more she saw him stretched out, the more she began to imagine him being in that position for other reasons…erotic reasons. And she was so tempted to walk over to the sofa, slide on top of him and place her head on his chest. She had a feeling she would fit perfectly, molded against him.
And she had a feeling that temptation was mutual. Every time she came out of the bedroom, their eyes would meet, and they’d stay there, looking at each other, for what seemed like several minutes, though she was sure it wasn’t that long. Usually, she was the one who broke the connection. However, there were times when she hadn’t been quick enough and the desire she saw in his eyes would make her all hot and bothered.
She was mature enough to realize that the sexual chemistry they’d been dancing around had returned, full-force. The danger they’d been in had forced it to the back burner for a while, but being in this cottage together, alone, was driving her crazy. Every time she set eyes on Roland, she was reminded that she was a woman—an increasingly needy woman.
And he was the man she needed.
Whenever desire threatened to choke her, she would hurry off to the kitchen, taking deep, calming breaths and trying to regain control of her senses. Usually, it worked. Today, not so much.