Dance with the Devil

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Authors: Cherry Adair
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doorjamb. In front of her, the couple on the bed reached their climax and the noise covered the soft moan Mia allowed escape from her throat.
    She wanted to scream. She wanted to make him stop. She wanted it to last forever.
    Too much. She was going to shatter and break apart.
    He continued to rock his body into hers. He prolonged her multiple orgasm beyond endurance. Mia’s body shuddered and quaked under the onslaught as he let one climax roll into the next and then the next.
    She didn’t know where his body ended and hers began. Any second now she was going to shatter into a gazillion pieces and, come morning, Mrs. Ambassador would find Mia bits all over her closet.
    â€œFinish,” Mia begged.
    â€œI’ll never be finished with you,” Jack muttered. “Come again.”
    â€œN—” Yes! Sparklers and rainbows. Shooting stars and fiery waterfalls. Jack could still make Mia’s earth move.
    She came again, riding that last blast of sensation along with Jack, who finally surrendered and gave himself up to his own climax.
    A moment later, she struggled to steal a breath, to regain her equilibrium. He held her, just held her against him, as her rioting nerves settled to a simmer and her brain went back on line.
    Jack petted her breasts and stroked the sensitive skin on her belly until she managed to find a little breath and her legs could support her. A shiver ran up her spine as the silk of her dress slithered down her legs.
    She blinked. The couple on the bed were dressing. Good old Don Juan had livid red scratches on his chest and his shirt bunched in his hand.
    Where was he going to find something to wear—
    Mia froze.

CHAPTER SIX
    â€œW E’RE IN HER CLOSET . Remember?” Jack whispered against her ear, guessing her thoughts. The guy walked by their hiding place and opened the door of the gentleman’s closet on the far side of the bathroom door.
    He felt the tremors that still shook Mia’s body. Good. He pulled her against him and she rested her head weakly against his chest. If they were in bed now, she’d curl into him, her arms and legs tangled with his.
    After sex with Mia had always been better than sex with any other woman. He stroked a hand up her arm, then cupped her hot cheek in his hand. She bowed her head and he felt the featherlight kiss she deposited in his palm, all the way to his toes. A shudder of animalistic, male pride wracked his body. It mattered that Mia was satisfied. No, more than satisfied—spent. Shot. Satiated.
    He’d risked his future happiness getting Mia to come with him tonight. Sallye, bless her devious romantic heart, had been terrific in setting up this blind date.
    Hell, he had needed Mia to get into the safe. But there were other operatives at the agency who could’ve done the job. It was neither difficult, nor dangerous, so any of them would have done. Except none of them was Mia.
    Damn it, he ached from missing her. Everything about her. Not just the spectacular sex. He missed her quick, pithy retorts and her bone-deep sense of fair play. He missed how tight she was with money, and how generous she was to those she loved. God. He’d missed the entire Mia Rossi package.
    Hell, he even got on great with her mother and her sister, Domino. Family was everything to Mia. That had to count for something.
    Life with Mia had been perfect. But perfect scared him. Emotional crap scared him. Anything he wanted as badly as he wanted Mia could be taken away from him in a heartbeat. Every cell he possessed seemed confident that Mia was the one woman designed specifically for him. It was right, it was honest. Correction—she was honest. He was—what? A living lie? A man made up of half-truths and wishful thinking?
    Jack tightened his arms about her, feeling the unsteady beat at the base of her throat slow back to normal. They weren’t going anywhere until the other couple left the room, but Jack didn’t give a

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