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“I chartered a private dinner boat—we’ll have a four-hour cruise around the Bay. Dinner is provided, we just have to sit back and get to know each other a little better, I hope.”
“Ian must be paying you better than the rest of us.”
He just laughed, and didn’t elaborate. She was touched that Nathan was going all out to impress her—he was really pulling out the stops. Whatever he hoped could come of this probably wasn’t going to happen.
It was the probably that bothered her—making room for doubt—not so long ago it would have been definitely.
He knew how to get under her skin, though it wasn’t an entirely uncomfortable feeling. He stopped on the sidewalk halfway to the car, turning her to him, placing his hands lightly on her shoulders.
“Listen, we’re just going to have a nice time. No expectations, so relax. I just wanted to do something special for you.”
“You do things all the time, the flowers, now this…”
“I do it because I want to, not because I’m trying to pressure you. There is no pressure, okay?”
She felt the knot in her chest loosen a little, and she smiled up at him; his irises were dark in the dusky light of the evening. He stepped a little closer, and she swallowed, feeling her breath come a little faster. Her tongue darted out to moisten dried lips, and he groaned a little.
“I know it’s more traditional for the kiss to happen at the end of the date. Let’s just get that particular pressure out of the way now, you think?”
She found herself nodding, not entirely of her own volition, though she didn’t have much time to think about it. His mouth met hers. It was a gentle first kiss, an introduction, a question and a promise of what might come later. It startled her to realize, when he pulled back, that she wanted more.
Much more.
Damn.
He smiled and took her hand, though she could see the pulse at the base of his throat beating faster than before. Smiling in spite of herself, she followed him quietly to the car.
“SO YOU HAVE FOUR SISTERS?”
Nathan lifted his glass of Chardonnay as if inspecting the color, looking over the top of the crystal at Jennie’s features, warmed by the candle lantern on the table between them and relaxed by a good dinner and several glasses of wine. How did she get even more lovely every time he looked at her? The little voice in the back of his head had been sending warnings every ten seconds that he was walking on thin ice pursuing this woman whom he was also investigating. He took another sip from his glass, washing them away.
She was very likely innocent—he’d never seen a single thing in the time he’d worked with the HotWires indicating Jennie was a mole. On top of that, Ian Chandler and E. J. Beaumont were no one’s fools. Unless they knew, the voice chided. Was he being naive? He wrenched his mind back to her question.
“I’m sorry, I was lost in thought.” He set his glass down, unable to take his eyes off her. “Yes, four. Mary, Kathryn, Shelly and Gwen, in that order. I’m the only boy, and the youngest.”
She laughed then, her face lighting up. “You poor guy. They must have had such fun with you. Did you find yourself being the victim of dress-up parties at a young age? You must have been like a little doll to them.”
He shook his head, grinning. “I learned early on how to defend myself from all that. Dad helped. Said he wouldn’t have his only son growing up girlie. Of course, he made sure his daughters could hold their own, so he wasn’t a complete sexist.”
“So you’re the baby. Your parents kept trying for a son?”
“No, they were just really Catholic. No birth control and the like. Mom actually had a few miscarriages in between each of us, which accounts for the intervals in our ages, but I was her last, at forty-two. When I get on her nerves, she tells me they played with the idea of naming me, ‘Enough.’”
As he laughed with her at the joke, he studied her carefully, as well. The family life he’d grown up in shouldn’t be completely unfamiliar to her—or to Maria Castone, anyway. She’d also been raised in a Catholic Boston family that adhered to traditional values, when it came to religion and reproductive traditions, in any case. It was a subtle form of fishing, a way to find out what was going on under the surface. She didn’t bite, however.
She didn’t even blink, showing no sign of connecting with what he was saying. She was very good at keeping it all hidden, then again, she’d had lots of practice. The warning voice started humming again, and he shut it off.
“You don’t often see large families like that anymore.”
“People can’t afford them, not that we could, either. It was a stretch a lot of the time, but there was plenty of love to make up for what we didn’t have.”
“That’s nice.”
“How about you? Sisters or brothers?”
He thought he saw something flicker briefly in her eyes but then it disappeared—whatever it was, it was sad.
“No, I was adopted. An only child of older parents. They’ve passed on now.”
“So you’re all alone?”
When she shrugged, he saw the tightening of her facial muscles, the way she averted her gaze. Whatever the truth was about why she was here, and what she was up to, she wasn’t thrilled with this topic of conversation. The pain of the secrets she carried inside, no matter what they were, created a flicker of hope that she wasn’t the criminal they were making her out to be.
If she had been separated from her family for all this time, completely cut off through the protection program, he couldn’t help aching for her.
He didn’t know if he could live the way Jennie had had to live. He wished he could say something, tell her he sympathized. He couldn’t. Not yet anyhow.
Her tone was neutral, though, when she replied. Practiced, like a speech she’d delivered many times before. “No, I’m only alone when I want to be. Family is not the only way to fill your life.”
“That’s true, I suppose.”
“You know, I never did ask, but what did you do before you came to the HotWires unit? I know you have psychology and criminology degrees, right? How’d you end up working in a tech unit? Why aren’t you out there doing all that profiler work we see on TV shows?”
He paused, unsure whether he should go along with her blatant change of the subject, taking the focus off of herself. But this was a date, not an interrogation. He frowned, hating how business was interfering with what should have purely been pleasure. He shoved thoughts about the investigation aside and went along with her.
“Well, you know I grew up in Boston, and that I’m Irish.” He added the last with a smile and an affected brogue he’d picked up from his grandfather, who had been determined to give up neither his native language nor his accent even though he’d lived in America twice as long as he’d lived in Ireland. Grandad used to joke that the accent got him laid twice as often as his American friends without one, and Nathan could confirm that he’d used it in college with similar results.
“I went to college there, no need to move out of the house and spend more money when you have some of the best schools in the country outside your back door. Not to mention the best ballpark in the world.”
Jennie arched an eyebrow, but she had a sparkle in her eye that charmed him. “You love Boston?”
Was the sparkle because she’d grown up in their beloved city, as well?
“With all my heart. Miss it, so I try to get back often enough. Have you ever been?” He asked the question with a slight sinking feeling—so much for leaving the investigation behind. And the question dulled the sparkle she’d had.
“No, can’t say that I have. It sounds like a lovely place, though.”
“You should visit sometime.”
“Maybe I will.”
Nathan blew out a breath at the sudden formality of their exchange, like two strangers on the street. Her defenses were firmly raised—she didn’t give anything away, unless you looked closely and saw how her eyes changed.
“Anyway, I only ended up with a dual major because I had no idea where I was going. My Dad and Grandad were lawyers, so I felt pressured to go in some kind of similar direction. My real love, though, was psychology, how people react and behave, and why. It ends up the two were pretty complementary, especially when Kevin Mitnick came on the scene, and the whole social-psychological side of hacking became popular. It was always around, as you know—he made it a real phenomenon. I bumped into it at just the right time to write my thesis on it, and the rest was history.”
“And you just ended up here?”
“Eventually. Took a few detours first.”
He was tired of talking about his life when he had this wonderful woman sitting just a few feet away. He wanted to know more about her, and not as an investigator. This night was fleeting, and he didn’t know if there would be another. As the boat turned, starting its slow trajectory back toward shore, the waiter reappeared, delivering espresso and mouthwatering slices of tiramisu. Jennie sat back in her chair as she eyed the dessert.
“I’m so stuffed. This was delicious. It’s amazing how the saltwater air will stimulate your appetite.”
He knew she was talking about the confection on the table in front of them, yet Nathan felt her words stir a different kind of hunger, tightening every muscle in his body with desire. His appetite was definitely stimulated. Down, boy, he commanded himself, striving for control.
Thankfully, Jennie didn’t seem to be aware.
“It’s such a beautiful night to be out on the water. Thanks for thinking of this.”
Abandoning her dessert, she stood, and walked to the rail, looking out over the water. Nathan took his plate and a spoon, joining her. Maybe if his hands and mouth were otherwise occupied, he’d be able to keep them to himself.
He rested against the rail, gazing out over the calm waters of the Bay, dark now as the moon set low in the sky. Looking down he grabbed a chunk of cake with the fork, and lifted it to Jennie’s lips. She drew back slightly, shaking her head, but he smiled and wordlessly urged her to indulge. He could barely keep his hand steady as she leaned in and formed her amazing mouth in an O around the end of the fork, slipping the cake into her mouth in such an unconsciously sensual move that he nearly dropped the utensil over the rail.
Instead, he placed it and the plate on a nearby table and reached out, pulling her up against him, glad the “first date” kiss had been gotten out of the way earlier so that he could take his first real kiss now. Taking her lips against his, he slid his hands into that seductive mass of curls, as he’d imagined doing so many times. He sank into the sensual taste of her mixed with the sweet cream and chocolate of the dessert.
Nathan was gratified to feel her hands slide around his waist, her fingers digging into the small of his back. As he felt her nails press against his skin through the thin material of his shirt, his entire body turned into one, long cord of need. Scooping her closer, he deepened the kiss, breathing into her.
Jennie knew she shouldn’t be letting it happen, still the moment he’d pulled her in and sealed her mouth in that kiss, she was lost. She’d kissed her share of men, but she’d never been at the mercy of the touch of someone’s lips. From the moment Nathan’s mouth had captured hers, she could only get closer. Her resistance crumbled, she needed to touch him. He felt so good. Solid, warm and completely delicious.
When his deep moan rumbled through her, and she felt every hard, lean part of him aligned with every soft, receptive part of her, she slid her hands down to his backside. She always was a sucker for a nice male butt. As her palms cupped the strong muscles there, she purred against his lips, her fingers unable to resist the urge to explore.
“Jesus, Jennie…” Nathan’s breathing was labored against her mouth, his eyes sparkling with wicked promises as he looked down at her, his arms tight around her, inadvertently drawing their pelvises closer together in the process. Suddenly she heard the clinking of dishes and silverware and remembered they weren’t alone. Sliding her eyes to the side, she saw the waiter clearing the table, the young man’s gaze discreetly looking away from them.
She laughed softly, resting her forehead against his shoulder. “Wow. I completely lost track of where I was…who I was….” She laughed again, incredulous at the mind-blanking desire that she’d tumbled into.
“As long as you remembered who I was.”
The comment was softly spoken against her ear, and she could hear the subtle doubt, the tension, in his voice. She supposed she couldn’t blame him—she’d spent so many months putting him off, how could she explain suddenly falling into his arms without so much as a murmur of protest? She was a big girl; she took responsibility for her actions, and she never led guys on. She was very attracted to Nathan; it was why she kept the flowers he sent until the blossoms faded.
Looking up at him, she sighed, framing his face with her hands. He was so damned handsome.
“No, I knew exactly what I was doing, and with whom, Nathan. And I…”
Hope glinted in his eyes. She swallowed the lump in her throat, feeling horrible about all of the deception in her life, and wishing she could just blurt it all out, come clean just once, with this special man. He was so open to her, so ready to take a leap that she didn’t know if she could ever take. What was it she’d been about to confess, to admit? Was she ready?
“What, Jennie? You can say it. Remember what I said. No pressure, I promise.”
His fingers traced a lazy path along her back, and he stepped back slightly, as if to show her that he was willing to give her room to breathe. The gesture was almost as powerful as a touch, because she knew he meant it. She watched as the docks came into view, their magical trip was almost over. She knew she couldn’t tell him the truth about her life; to do so would just endanger his life.
Or maybe she wasn’t being so noble, really; the truth was that if she told him everything, he might change his mind about her, and she needed to be with him. At least for tonight, she needed to forget all the reasons she shouldn’t do this. She wanted something special, something for her that might create a memory she could hold close no matter what the future was. Looking up into his eyes, she took the leap.
“Nathan, I don’t kiss a man like we just kissed because I feel pressured into it—I’m way too old for that in case you haven’t noticed.”
Five years didn’t seem like much, but with everything that had happened in her life, she sometimes felt as if she was decades older. Not right now; not with Nathan. He made her feel…young. New. Happy.
But shouldn’t he want some woman his own age, with no past, no baggage? She held his gaze as the boat slowed. The way he looked at her…she had no doubts that he wanted her, and she was determined to focus on that for now. It was enough.
“I’m glad tomorrow’s Saturday,” she whispered, leaning in, giving in to the impulse to move her hands over the well-defined muscles of his back. He was slim and strong. A shudder of desire flooded her as she allowed herself to feel things she’d been fighting for a while.
“Why’s that?” His voice was husky with desire as he asked the question, her touch affecting him. The knowledge made her smile as she answered.
“So we can sleep in.”
She lifted her mouth to his again, and felt him relax and harden all at once, his body hot against hers as he kissed the breath from her all the way back to the pier. She hadn’t met any men her own age or older who could kiss half as well. She preferred to think he’d come by the talent naturally, rather than having had too much practice.
By the time the boat docked, they were both overcome with the need to find somewhere private, and Nathan hastily squared things with the waiter and took Jennie’s hand, hurrying her gently from the boat and back to his car.
Once inside the sleek little Mustang, they combated the small space over the gearshift, all over each other again until laughingly, they parted, but never stopped touching completely as Nathan raced back to Jennie’s apartment. She smiled, anticipation buzzing through her in a way she hadn’t experienced in a long time.
Appreciation welled with desire as he pulled up into a parking spot in front of her building and cut the engine. He was willing to come to her place, to go where she felt familiar and comfortable. She had a feeling she’d only discovered the tip of the iceberg when it came to finding out how special Nathan Reilly really was.
3
IMAGES OF THEM FALLING in the door and tearing at each other’s clothes raced through Nathan’s brain as he tried to keep to the speed limit, but Jennie’s hand tracing erotic messages on his upper thigh made it hard to hold back. He needed out of this car, and out of his clothes, soon.
After the frantic rush to the apartment, as soon as they stepped inside the door, breathless and laughing, everything slowed down. They stood, facing each other, saying nothing, and he crossed, taking her hands in his.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
The simple response was all he needed. With a gentle tug she was in his arms again, and the passion lit even more brightly than before. Now that they were alone, now that Nathan was where he’d dreamed of being for months on end, he found he didn’t want to rush, as urgent as the need was.
He’d always preferred hard, fast sex, reveling in the urgency and the energy of the act, yet there was something about Jennie that made him hold back and savor every move, each touch. It was a new kind of intensity, born of waiting so long for her, he supposed. He slipped a finger beneath the shoulder of her soft sweater, sliding it under the bra strap, and eased it down, smoothing the tender skin of her shoulder. She was so soft.
Leaning in, he buried his face in her neck and inhaled her scent, then darted his tongue out for a taste, loving the way her head fell back and how she seemed to purr as he nuzzled her, investigating all those secret spots he’d wondered about for so long. The hidden silk behind her ear. The visible pulse at the base of her throat that hammered as he lifted his other hand to her waist, sliding it up and down her spine, causing her to bow her body into his, issuing an erotic invitation when she pressed against him just so. They fit perfectly, as if they were made to be this way. The idea moved him profoundly.
When she began her own exploration, yanking his shirt free and sliding over the skin of his lower back and then up, he momentarily closed his eyes, reminding himself he wanted to go slow, though his body was starting to disagree with that plan. Her seductive touch, still somewhat tentative, as if she hadn’t quite made up her mind, convinced him that slow was the right choice.
The bulge in Nathan’s pants that nestled so sweetly against her abdomen made Jennie’s imagination spike with images of driving him over the edge. A part of her held back, still feeling, for the first time in a long time, like a liar. It didn’t seem to matter that the lies were to protect herself, to protect others. Would he still be here if he knew the secrets she kept?
Now wasn’t the moment to worry about it. She felt more aroused than she ever had, and yet her worries were not quite quenched.
“Jennie, you can change your mind if you want. I don’t want you doing anything you don’t want to,” Nathan said. His breathing was labored and she smiled, lifting her hand to slide the pad of her fingers over the fine film of sweat that had formed on his brow.
Nathan had some serious self-control, another plus, in her book. But she wanted him to go wild with her. And she knew just how to make him do it.
“I don’t want to stop, Nathan. It’s just that I didn’t expect this. I didn’t expect to feel so much so fast and, well, I’m a little worried about the fact that we work together. Sex complicates things.”
That much was true, she thought, though it was becoming less and less important as he touched her in all the right places.
“Let’s not think about work tonight.”
She nodded, agreeing, glad at least to be able to tell the truth to him about some things, “It’s also been a while for me.”
“Then we need to make this extra special, don’t we?”
“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem. It feels pretty special to me already.”
