Elite Ops: Black Jack Part 7

"I did nothing to prove my suspicions?" She heard her own voice roughen, felt the agony of failure tearing through her.

"I didn't say that, Lilly," he retorted gently. "You've investigated. At times I've helped you, but you always ran into a dead end. That doesn't mean you haven't tried."

She swung away from him, fighting her tears.

"You were working covertly with MI5 before that night," he continued. "You couldn't risk going to them, though. You trusted no one."

"But I trusted you enough to tell you that?" She swung back to him, the anger and fear eating at her now.

"We were close, Lilly," he stated softly. "There were many times you trusted me. And there were times you didn't."

At least he was admitting there were times she hadn't trusted him.

"Where did we meet?" The question was a whisper, as she fought to put together the puzzle of her life.

"We met in Israel. I was your trainer for a while." With that statement he turned, opened a lower cabinet door, and tossed the empty bottle away.

He moved with a predatory male grace, a sense of preparedness and yet casual laziness. She couldn't pinpoint the type of man he was, or even how trustworthy he was, and she considered herself a rather perceptive person when it came to others, but she couldn't read him well.

She watched as he moved across the room to her. Silently. He was even more silent than she was, and he was much heavier. There were muscles packed on that body.

"What sort of trainer?" she asked breathlessly as he came closer, brushing against her, staring down at her with his heated gaze.

What did she want? Information or that hard, hot body moving against her, over her? Her body was screaming for s.e.x, her mind demanding answers and she was having trouble deciding exactly which she wanted to give in to first.

"Hand-to-hand combat and weapons." His head lowered, his lips brushed against her ear.

"You were a very good student too." One hand gripped her hip and jerked her against the steel-hard wedge of his c.o.c.k beneath his pants as his fingers tangled in her hair to draw her head back. "Teacher's pet, actually." His lips brushed hers.

Lilly caught her breath. She wasn't a virgin, and if she had been this man's lover then she knew d.a.m.ned good and well she wasn't inexperienced. But she felt innocent, caught in a web of seduction and pleasure that was sensed rather than remembered, as she held her breath, waiting for his kiss.

"Why are you here, Lilly? Information, or this?" He asked the question that raged through her mind, but he gave her no chance to answer.

His lips pressed against hers, parted them, sipped from her as though arousal were an ambrosia and he was dying for more.

His tongue stroked over her lips then slipped inside, caressed her tongue, licked, tasted. A hum of pleasure left her as she felt her hands moving slowly up his hard arms. Over muscle and flesh, tough, invincible, as he pulled her closer and lifted her tighter against him.

The hard proof of his erection nudged at her p.u.s.s.y. It pressed against her c.l.i.t, rubbed the material of her silk panties and the silk lining of her own leathers against the dampening folds between her thighs.

s.e.xual need, excitement, and a rush of emotions that made no sense crowded in on her. Her flesh heated, burned. Wherever he touched, wherever the warmth of his body caressed her, triggered such a rush of pleasure racing through her that she felt dizzy.

Her knees were weakening. Didn't that only happen in books and movies? Not in real life?

A moan whispered from her lips as her hands pushed into his hair, gripping the long strands, feeling the coa.r.s.eness of it, the cool, achingly familiar touch of it.

So little in her life was familiar anymore. This, though, this rocked through her system with an awareness that she had been here before, that she had missed this, needed it. There was also an a.s.surance that she hadn't had enough of it. Not yet. Perhaps never.

His kiss was black magic, there was just no other word for it.

"Travis." She whispered his name as his lips slid to her cheek, the curve of her jaw, to her neck.

Nerve endings tingled with a rush of pure sensation, white hot and intense as it washed through her body.

Callused fingertips moved beneath the snug top she wore, caressed up, cupped . . . Jerking her head back, Lilly fought to hold on to a sense of balance as the pad of his thumb raked over her nipple while pressing beneath the lace of her bra.

It was exquisite.

As she arched against him her legs parted further for the hard thigh pressing between them, lifting her, forcing her to ride the hard contours of his thigh as she ground her p.u.s.s.y against him.

She ached. Oh G.o.d, she ached as though s.e.x were more than a want, as though it were imperative to her very being. A cascade of heated sensations flooded her body, dampening her s.e.x, clenching the intimate muscles as she fought to catch her breath.

Catching her breath wasn't that easy. Each time she tried, he did something else, something s.e.xy and exciting. Something that burned over sensitive flesh and raced over her nerve endings.

Pulling the lace of her bra to the side, he exposed the hard tip of her nipple to the cool air of the room, then to the incredible heat of his mouth.

Fighting to keep her eyes open, Lilly stared down at him, watching as his cheeks hollowed around the tight tip, the way his lashes shadowed his cheeks.

It was incredibly s.e.xy. So s.e.xy it made her heart thunder in her chest, made her breathing short.

The lash of his tongue had her eyelids fluttering, had sensation shooting straight to her c.l.i.t and beyond as a wild, ragged cry left her lips. When his fingers moved to the snap and zipper of her pants, she was more than eager to help him with his own as well.

Her fingers tore at the metal tabs of his leather riding pants as the zipper of hers slid down.

She gasped for air as he took her lips in a kiss, his tongue licking along hers as his fingers slid into the parted material, eased lower, and threaded through the silky curls between her thighs.

Lilly froze, tried to catch her breath. Her eyes widened, stared into his, and in the next second fluttered closed again as his fingers found and captured the tight little bud of her c.l.i.toris.

Callused fingertips circled, rubbed, and stimulated the sensitive bundle of flesh. Arcs of pleasure tore through her p.u.s.s.y as her juices rushed to coat the swollen folds beyond to tempt his fingers to touch lower, to stroke inside her.

"I dream about this," he growled against her lips as he gave her a moment to breathe.

"Touching your sweet p.u.s.s.y again, feeling it quiver beneath my fingers, feeling your pretty c.l.i.t swell with hunger."

Heat flushed her face at the explicit words while her p.u.s.s.y creamed harder. She wanted his fingers inside her. She wanted him to take her, to ease the hard knot of hunger tightening in her womb.

Her hips arched closer, forcing his fingers lower along the narrow slit he was caressing.

Lifting her leg, she managed to get him a little closer.

He chuckled, a breath of male hunger and amus.e.m.e.nt, as his fingers rubbed over the clenched entrance.

"This what you want, Lilly?" he crooned against her ear as one finger slipped in just enough to tease, just enough to give her a taste of the pleasure she was reaching for. Just enough to tease her into whimpering and arching her hips higher for more.

A shudder tore through her as he rubbed at the clenched, tight muscles of her v.a.g.i.n.a. The pad of his finger rubbed in tiny circles, moved in short, easy strokes. His lips moved back to her nipples, his tongue licked and stroked, and Lilly was certain she was going to melt to the floor with the incredible pleasure racing through her and the imperative need for more.

"I can make it better, Lilly," he whispered before nipping at the sensitive tip of her breast.

"What's stopping you?" she cried out breathlessly. "Make it better. I dare you."

Let him see if she tried to stop him. G.o.d, she wanted more so d.a.m.ned bad she was on the verge of begging for it.

"You dare me, do you?" A quick, heated lick of her nipple had her jerking in reflexive pleasure.

"Double-dare you," she gasped.

His finger moved, retreated, only to return thicker, stronger, stretching the sensitive portal of her p.u.s.s.y as her neck arched and a low, ragged cry tore from her lips.

A fiery aching pleasure centered in the very core of her, convulsing through her womb as she almost, almost reached that peak she was searching for.

She was so close. Right there on the verge.

"Mr. Caine, we have company." A harsh, rough voice spoke from the other room. It sounded as though it came from a wild creature, one whose vocal ability was still more animal than man.

Travis jerked against her, his hard body suddenly tense and prepared for battle rather than focused entirely on her.

"Who is it, Nik?" he snarled.

"I do believe it's the girl's uncle," the "Nik" in question answered. His voice, though lower, was no less rough. "He's demanding to speak with you."

Demanding. Yes, that sounded like her uncle, but he'd picked a h.e.l.l of a time to demand anything.

Staring back at Travis, her body aching in regret, she watched, felt the complete distance he placed between them.

"Would you like to freshen up before facing him?" he asked, his hand gesturing toward a guest bathroom. "Make yourself at home."

He fixed his pants, tucked in his shirt. Within seconds the only outward sign of pa.s.sion was the slight flush to his cheeks and the glitter of green in his brown eyes.

Lilly stepped back. She wanted to know why her uncle was there, but she had a feeling she would learn much more if they both believed she was occupied.

Lilly knew the fine art of pretending to give what was wanted. It was one of the first lessons her mother had taught her.

She had excelled.

Chapter 4.

travis stepped into the reception room. The room was off a small foyer at the wide front door, marble-floored, the furniture less than comfortable but sleekly modern. Nik had had the butler light the fire, which glowed with cozy warmth in the huge fireplace. It did little to warm the cold appearance of the room though.

"Mr. Harrington." Travis stepped into the room casually, displaying the lazy, almost insolent grace he had brought to the persona he had been given.

He didn't extend his hand; an insult, he knew, to a man considered near royalty in England.

Desmond Harrington was a lord of the realm as well as a member of the House of Lords now that he had acquired the Harrington t.i.tle. He was a powerful, dignified figure, despite the fact that he looked more like an American thug.

His red hair was cut close to his scalp. His mustache grew long down the side of his lips and beneath his chin to meet a spa.r.s.e beard in a wide goatee. The rest of the beard was trimmed closer to the face and gave him a scruffy appearance, while the minute lines on his forehead and at the corners of his eyes, along with the hollowed appearance of his cheeks, spoke of a rough-hewn determination.

Blue eyes watched Travis with a hint of anger, his lower lip tight with disapproval as he moved to the couch across from the chair Travis had taken.

Behind him was his bodyguard, and Travis almost laughed when the he recognized the man. Amazing that a man suspected of terrorist ties and international loan-sharking would have a bodyguard known better for his sense of fair play and honor than he was for his brutality.

"Mr. Caine." Desmond hitched his slacks with an angry jerk of his hands before taking his seat with regal arrogance. "I won't take up much of your time. Produce my niece and I'll leave."

Travis arched his brow as he sensed Nik moving in closer behind him.

The butler, Henry, balding, under six feet, but more than capable of providing any backup they needed, entered the room and went over to the bar.

"Would you gentlemen like a drink?" Travis asked Desmond as the other man glared at him.

"My niece, if you don't mind." The precise English accent was clipped and demanding.

"She's in the powder room." Travis shrugged. "You know how long such things can take. I suggest you relax for a bit and we can chat."

"I have nothing to chat about with the likes of you." Self-importantly, he lifted his rather heavy nose in the air as though he smelled something offensive.

Travis chuckled. "Ah, I have to say you're quite wrong there," he retorted. "We have quite a bit to discuss. I want my Lilly back."

It was kind of funny to be "playing" Lilly's lover when he actually was her lover. Except there was nothing the least bit humorous about the situation.

"Lilly Belle no longer exists," Desmond hissed as he nearly came out of his chair, his face flushing brick red in anger. "She is Lady Victoria Lillian Harrington. Period. She is related to royalty and her station does not allow her to be your toy any longer."

Travis's brow arched. "That's Lilly's choice to make, not yours."

"She no longer remembers you. She will never remember those years she has lost. The doctors are certain of that. Leave her be, man. Allow her the life she was born to live," her uncle demanded.

"The life she ran from?" Travis asked as he leaned forward. "She was nearly killed living your life, as I remember it. Lilly left voluntarily. She didn't return with the same mind-set.

She's back, not because she wanted to be, but because once again someone tried to kill her and she forgot she was running. So don't presume to preach to me about the life that she should be living, or the reputation she should be cultivating."

"Victoria belongs with her family," Desmond snapped. "No matter how you twist the truth, you are nothing but a danger to her."

Travis laughed. "She created the danger in her life as I'm certain your investigator told you.

Do you think her enemies aren't well aware that she's now Lady Victoria Lillian Harrington?

Do you honestly believe her past isn't going to return to bite her on the a.s.s?"

He was the concerned past lover. He was the man that knew her secrets better than any other. He was the man her family was going to have to accept whether they wanted to or not.

"Leave it alone," Desmond fired back. "I can take care of any repercussions if you'll walk the h.e.l.l away."

"And what repercussions would that be, Uncle Desmond?" Lilly stepped into the room.