Stolen Heat Part 9

Things started to click into place. Each of the pieces hanging in the closet was beautiful, but they weren't overly s.e.xual in any way. Not the kind of thing a potential lover might buy for a woman. With sinking suspicion, she realized he hadn't brought her here for s.e.x like she'd thought. Instead, he'd brought her here because he wanted something from her. Wanted something so much he was willing to try to buy her off with trendy clothing and posh luxury in lieu of his body.

In a rush she remembered the way he'd been eyeing the artifacts in the tomb during his first few tours, and the way he'd watched everything around him with a keen eagle's eye.

Her stomach tightened as reality smacked her in the face. Tomb robbers did indeed exist in this day and age. And there was an enormous belowground market that traded in ancient antiquities. She'd even heard stories of shady dealers scouting out tombs, pa.s.sing themselves off as tourists and doing whatever they could to get information from workers. And with the pieces she suspected had gone missing from her site...

Oh, G.o.d. She'd been stupidly naive. She'd been so sucked in by his good looks and charm she hadn't even questioned what he was really about.

Heart pumping, Kat rose on unsteady legs and opened the bedroom door. The living room appeared empty at first, and though she wanted to rush out of the disgustingly beautiful suite she'd at first envisioned as a lover's palace, now all she wanted were answers.

Her jaw clenched when she spotted Pete sitting at a desk facing windows that looked out toward the Pyramids, his back to her, his hand busily moving over a piece of paper. Dusk was just settling over the desert, and the lights were only now coming up, spotlighting the ma.s.sive stone triangles against the dimming sky.

"Just what the h.e.l.l's going on here?"

He turned sharply and looked at her, obviously not having heard her march across the floor. For a moment she was sucker punched again, only this time with that familiar l.u.s.t she'd been experiencing since he'd shown up. He was still wearing the same clothes as before, but he'd added a pair of wire-rimmed gla.s.ses that for some reason made him look d.a.m.n s.e.xier and even more rugged than he already was.

His eyes swept over her as he swiveled his chair and leaned back, taking her in from wet hair to bare feet. "Nothing fit?"

She fisted her hands on her hips and ignored the playful tone of his voice. "I didn't try any of it on."

"You didn't like the clothes?"

"I'm not some hooker you can buy off."

With slow movements, he set the pen he'd been holding on the stack of papers at his side and regarded her like a lion tamer considering the foolishness of trying to coax a fresh steak from his growling pet. "You're going to have to explain that one for me. I'm a little behind."

"I'm getting at that. that." She pointed to the bedroom, then lifted her arms to indicate the entire room. "And this. this. Why did you bring me here? It's pretty clear it's not because you're dying to jump into bed with me." Why did you bring me here? It's pretty clear it's not because you're dying to jump into bed with me."

"Whoa. Wait a minute." He rubbed a hand over his jaw and had the audacity to look amused. "I think you've got the wrong idea."

"Oh, no, I have the very right idea. A woman knows when a man's not attracted to her, so don't talk to me like I'm stupid. Just come out and say what it is you want from me and stop playing these games."

He rose from his seat, the leather creaking beneath him, and hesitantly stepped toward her. "What makes you think I'm not attracted to you?"

"A woman knows."

"How?" His eyes were soft and hypnotic through those lenses, and she fought to keep her common sense in check. "Tell me how you know, specifically, that I'm not interested, Kat."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "For one, you haven't touched me once today."

"I didn't want to startle you. You've looked a little nervous."

"You barely touched me the night we had dinner either."

"True. But not for the reasons you're thinking."

Her eyes narrowed. "There's not a s.e.xy thing in that closet of designer labels you bought."

"In the first place, I didn't buy them. I happen to have a...friend who's got an in with some of those designers. And in the second, I disagree. Those clothes might not look s.e.xy on the rack, but I'm willing to bet on you they're amazing."

He was throwing her off with those l.u.s.ty looks, but she knew she was right. There was something about Peter Kauffman that just didn't add up. "A guy who's interested in a woman acts acts like he's interested." like he's interested."

He smiled then, a slow and confident grin that turned her insides to Jell-O, but he didn't so much as respond.

Her stomach tightened. "And it's obvious you aren't staying in that room you pushed me into because there's nothing of yours in there."

"Do you want something of mine in there?"

Kat faltered, and he saw it. She hated the fact he was getting to her like this when she knew better. She lifted her chin. "That's not the point."

"I think it's exactly the point." He moved closer until she felt the heat radiating from his body, but she refused to let him intimidate her, so she didn't step back. "In fact, I think the point here is that I'm different from the other men you've been with, and it's confusing you."

He was absolutely right about that. He was completely different, but she wasn't about to tell him that.

"I know that shouldn't thrill me," he went on, "but I can't help it. Because you're completely different from the women I've been interested in, too, and in my defense, I haven't known exactly how to deal with that."

She watched in slow motion as he ran his finger down the length of her sleeve. Even through the thick terry her skin tingled.

"As for not touching you." He shook his head. "I've been dying to touch you since the first second I laid eyes on you."

He lifted the finger that had just stroked her arm and pointed over his shoulder toward a door she hadn't noticed behind him. "This suite has two bedrooms. My suitcase is in there. I didn't want to put any pressure on you."

He took off his gla.s.ses, and when he looked down at her she was. .h.i.t with the full impact of those stormy, suddenly serious eyes. "I don't live here, Kat. I'm based out of Miami where my gallery's growing like a toddler. I get to Cairo maybe three, four times a year on buying trips or when a colleague calls with something of interest. I wasn't planning on coming back until the fall."

She took a breath, because the air was suddenly hot and sultry, and she had a strange feeling maybe she'd jumped to the wrong conclusion way too fast.

"That dinner we had? The one where you were convinced afterward I didn't want to see you again? Furthest thing from the truth. I suggested we go for a walk because I didn't want to take you home, and once we got to your flat all I could think about was dragging you against me and kissing you senseless. I would have given up my left arm to go upstairs with you, but I forced myself to leave instead, because I didn't want you to be a one-night stand."

One-night stand? Oh no. Oh no. "Then...why am I here now?" "Then...why am I here now?"

His gaze ran over her face, down to her lips and back up to her eyes. "Because I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since that night. About how soft your skin is, about how sweet you smell, about the sound of your s.e.xy voice. Just the memory is enough to drive me mad."

Her toes curled against the carpet.

"I have to be in Barcelona in three days," he said. "I have a mountain of paperwork from my last trip that I never finished, and I left a buyer high and dry to fly out here last night. I don't have time to do the normal dating ritual of dinner and a movie and an 'I'll call you' goodnight kiss. I brought you here today because I wanted time alone with you so we could get to know each other better before I have to leave again. To find out if this spark between us is real or imagined. And my bags are in that room because I didn't want you to feel pressured to do something you weren't ready for." His voice deepened. "But don't for one minute a.s.sume I'm not dying to get inside you in any way you'll let me right this second. Because I guarantee you'd be wrong."

Liquid slid through Kat's veins, then pooled in her stomach until she felt like she would burst. "And, um, what did you discover?"

His brows drew together to form a slight crease between his gorgeous eyes. "About what?"

"About us. This spark. Is it...is it still there after I made a fool of myself a few minutes ago?"

One side of his mouth curled in that s.e.xy half grin, the one she'd been itching to lick off his face through their whole dinner. "Oh yeah. Definitely there for me. What do you think?"

She finally drew a breath. "I think if you don't kiss me soon, I'm going to die."

His arms were around her so fast, she gasped. And when the long, lean line of his body came into contact with hers, she knew she'd been wrong. He was hard as stone and very obviously aroused.

Warmth spread between her thighs, and even as she berated herself for being a fool, her heart jumped in time with his pulse.

He leaned down, but he didn't kiss her. His mouth hovered over hers until she thought she'd scream. She curled her fingers in his dress shirt, trying to draw him closer.

"This is going to be complicated," he whispered.

"The good things always are."

He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip, sending sparks of desire straight to her center. "I'm not looking for a one-nighter with you. Fair warning, Kit-Kat, I want a whole lot more."

Oh, so did she. She barely knew him, but one thing was clear: he was going to change her life.

His lips settled over hers, gentle at first, but with growing urgency. As his tongue slid into her mouth and desire exploded in her core, she responded with everything she had in her.

When they were both breathless and his mouth finally parted from hers, she slipped her hands up into his hair and stared into his smoldering eyes, knowing there was no going back for her. "So, um, you showed me my room but not yours. I'm curious what the rest of this suite looks like."

His answer was a l.u.s.ty groan followed by strong arms sweeping her off the floor to carry her across the room.

CHAPTER TEN.

Present day Northern Pennsylvania

It had to be the longest night of his life. Or the longest few hours to daylight.

Take your pick, Pete thought. Pete thought. s.h.i.t in one hand, p.i.s.s in the other. s.h.i.t in one hand, p.i.s.s in the other. Either way he looked at it, the end result was still the same. Every muscle in his body twitched in time to the second hand on his watch as dawn inched closer. Either way he looked at it, the end result was still the same. Every muscle in his body twitched in time to the second hand on his watch as dawn inched closer.

In the shower, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about the night he'd ignored the G.o.d-given gift of common sense that had kept him alive for thirty-two years and gone after Kat at her tomb. Dammit, he should have stayed away. If he'd thought with his big head that day instead of his little one, none of this would ever have happened.

Scowling at the memory, he finished showering and reluctantly emerged from the bathroom only to find the tiny apartment empty. He suspected Kat was in the adjacent garage, but he wasn't interested enough to go searching for her. And to be honest, he was relieved at the silence. His brain was still working around everything she'd told him.

Yeah, well, he wasn't about to go overa.n.a.lyzing any of that now, was he?

But he still had questions. Like how the h.e.l.l she'd gotten the jump on him and why his face looked like it had been used as a battering ram recently.

With a towel wrapped around his waist, he pawed through the small closet next to the kitchen. He didn't feel as sick to his stomach anymore, but his brain was still pounding away at his skull, and he knew this time it wasn't due to sedatives or any alcohol he'd consumed earlier but from reality crashing down around him. Pulling out a pair of worn jeans and an NYU sweatshirt, he frowned.

"G.o.dd.a.m.n hand-me-downs," he mumbled. As if the situation weren't bad enough, he had to actually wear Slade's clothing.

Muttering curses at no one in particular, but with no other options, he pulled on the jeans and refused to think about the fact he was going commando in another guy's pants. He tugged the sweatshirt over his head, found a pair of wool socks in a basket on the shelf and pushed his feet into a pair of hiking boots in the bottom of the closet.

"Oh, this just figures." He bent down and shoved his foot around as he tied the laces as loose as possible, the whole time glowering at the size tens that were-just his luck-one size too small. When he stood up too quickly, his head spun, and a wave of nausea hit him hard.

Food was a good idea at this point. Soak up the drug, sober up his head. He turned for the small kitchen only to find most of the contents were frozen foods and packaged meals.

He didn't have the patience or inclination to actually cook right now, so he pawed through the cupboard until he found a jar of peanut b.u.t.ter and decided that was better than nothing. As he pulled a frozen loaf of bread from the freezer, he couldn't help wondering when the h.e.l.l Slade had been here last. The guy was probably off on ops half the time, but you'd never know it by looking at the supplies he kept on hand. Or maybe he'd left the agency and been in hiding with Kat all these years.

That thought was enough to send the blood roaring to Pete's head. Not going there. None of my business anyway. Not going there. None of my business anyway.

With more force than necessary, he grabbed two slices of frozen bread, slapped peanut b.u.t.ter on one and smashed them together. One bite told him his stomach wasn't going to like the combination, but he figured, screw it. screw it. Anything was better than this drugged-out feeling. Anything was better than this drugged-out feeling.

After he choked down the sandwich and polished off a cola, he went back to the closet, found a gray parka that looked like it would fit his shoulders and tugged a black wool cap over his head. He shoved a pair of fingerless gloves into the coat pocket, then searched the closet some more. A little metal box up on the top shelf drew his attention.

He pushed propane canisters to the side, reached for the box and pulled it down. The locking mechanism on the front was child's play, really. Just enough to deter a kid or a halfwit. Frowning, he carried the box into the closet-sized kitchen, set it on the counter and dug through the drawers until he found a metal skewer.

Not a pick, but it'd work in a pinch.

It took him longer than he'd have liked to pop the lock, and he knew his buddy Rafe would have laughed his a.s.s off if he'd been watching, but the end result was still the same. The lock gave with a soft click. Pete tossed the skewer on the counter, lifted the lid and let out a low whistle when he looked inside.

At least one d.a.m.n thing was going his way. The 10mm was high end and probably the most expensive thing in the whole apartment. He lifted the black metal, turned it from side to side and checked the chamber. Like an old habit, he pocketed one magazine, snapped the second into place, then tucked the firearm into the back waistband of his jeans.

And as he did he had a sudden flash of doing the same d.a.m.n thing time and again, in a lot s.h.i.ttier places than this.

He'd been in tight sc.r.a.pes before. A man in his line of work ran into shady characters in some of the worst corners of the world. It went without saying that the poorest and least policed countries had the biggest treasures and the greediest suppliers, and he'd capitalized on that fact over the years. Sure, his business was pretty much on the up and up now, but six years ago, when he'd met Kat? That was another matter entirely.

Since he didn't want to think about anything remotely related to Kat, he ran a hand over his face, scratched his jaw and wished like h.e.l.l for a razor.

Metal banging around in the adjacent garage echoed through the room. He eyed the clock on the wall in the small living area. 5:15 a.m. The sun would be up in a few hours. He couldn't hear the wind whipping against the building anymore, and he hoped that meant the mother-f-ing storm had finally pa.s.sed.

Pete looked at the ratty sofa. If he were smart he'd lie his a.s.s down and get an hour of shut-eye before he had to go outside and dig himself out of this mess. He'd need all his energy so he could make tracks back to civilization as soon as it was light.

More banging drifted to his ears. Followed by a curse.

He bit back the eloquent French retort that jumped to his lips and glared toward the garage door. And knew he wasn't getting any sleep now or anytime soon. He was about to make matters worse.

He stepped into the garage only to be greeted by a familiar view that socked him hard in the gut. The hood of the rusted Ford he'd planned to use as his escape vehicle was up, and Kat was leaning over the thing doing G.o.d-knows-what to the engine. What stopped him wasn't the fact she was tinkering with his only means out of this h.e.l.lhole, but that she'd changed into jeans, her heartshaped a.s.s filling out the worn denim as if it were a second skin.

And staring at her there, light from an unshaded bulb highlighting each and every curve, he had a sudden memory flash: pressing his lips to the twin dimples on her lower back, running his hands over the smooth skin of her gorgeous backside, clutching her hips tight with his fingers as he sank inside her from behind and bent to kiss her neck.

Warmth he grudgingly recognized as arousal speared him in the stomach, drifted lower until he had to shift his feet around to relieve the pressure in his groin. And that was when he realized his body obviously wasn't up to speed with his brain quite yet. The little man in his pants didn't know s.e.x with her was no longer an option.

He clenched his jaw and fought back the arousal that only p.i.s.sed him off more, then unleashed all that pent-up anger on her. "Just what in the h.e.l.l do you think you're doing now?"

Kat's head hit the top of the hood with a crack that echoed through the garage and sent stars firing off in her line of vision.

She bit her tongue to keep from swearing and jerked away from the engine block. Rubbing the back of her throbbing skull, she glanced behind her and saw Pete, freshly showered and smelling just as good as she remembered, looking more p.i.s.sed off than a chained pit bull.

"I asked what you think you're doing," he barked.

Okay, his shower hadn't done much to improve his mood. His tight shoulders were bunched for battle in that worn gray sweatshirt. Deep frustration lines marred his forehead beneath that black wool cap covering his hair. He had one heck of a shiner around his eye which, for reasons Kat couldn't explain, made him look that much more dangerous and s.e.xy as h.e.l.l.

He clenched his jaw as he waited for her to answer, and her gaze dropped to his mouth.

Yeah, that sweet and tempting mouth that had kissed her silly before was now set in a grim line. He was downright ticked she was anywhere near the vehicle he planned to use as his escape.