the swing. âYou have no business being out here at night by yourself.â
âYouâre kidding, right?â
âNo, Iâm not.â The moonlight filtering through the open sides of the gazebo shed enough light for her to see his stormy expression, and she had no doubt he meant everything he said. âWhat if Valente or one of his henchmen saw you out here alone?â
âWhat if they did? Thereâs a fence around this garden.â She shook her head. âThere isnât even a way to get in here without going through the innâs lobby.â
Cole snorted. âHellfire, woman, the picket fence around this little pea patch isnât more than four feet high. Donât you think someone could climb the damn thing?â
âItâs not a pea patch. Itâs a flower and cactus garden,â she corrected.
âWhatever,â he muttered.
âAnd why would anyone climb the fence when the garden is open to anyone?â
He made a sound that sounded suspiciously like a growl. âFor an FBI agent, you are without a doubt the most naive woman Iâve ever encountered. What if Valente wanted to kidnap you? Or worse?â
âWhy would he do that? You said yourself he turned over a doctored set of the trucking and produce company books,â Elise argued. âHeâs quite confident that I wonât find anything to link him or his companies to the gun smuggling.â
âHave you ever heard of a criminal insuring that nothing is found?â He shook his head. âFrom now on, if you want to go traipsing around outside yourroom after midnight, let me know. Iâll take you for a walk.â
âOh, really. Youâll take me for a walk like an obedient pet?â
âOkay, so Iâll accompany you.â His voice sounded a little less angry.
âLet me clue you in on something, Caveman. â So angry that she found it impossible to sit still, Elise rose to her feet. âIâll go where I want, when I want, and without you. Is that clear?â
He stood up to face her. âNot if itâs pitch-black dark you wonât, sweetheart. â
âYes, I will.â
âNo, you wonât.â
âWatch me.â She started to march down the steps of the gazebo, but he caught her by the arm.
âElise, listen to me.â
Coleâs tone of voice was almost urgent, and heâd used her name. She could have easily resisted turning back if he hadnât done that. But his deep baritone saying her name sent a shiver straight through her, and she could no more stop herself from facing him than she could pluck the stars from the sky.
âWhat?â
He started to say something, then shook his head and pulled her into his arms. Before she could react, his mouth came down on hers as he crushed her to him, and the heady feeling of his lips once again pressed to hers took her breath.
Every cell in her body tingled to life as he coaxed, demanded and persuaded her to respond, and Elise found herself opening for him, urging him to deepen the kiss. She might have been shocked by her reaction, but rational thought was beyond her capabilities. Coleâs firm lips moving over hers, the tip of his tongue seeking entry, left her with nothing but the ability to feel.
Hunger, swift and hot, swirled through her and she curled her fingers in his soft, knit T-shirt to keep from melting into a puddle at his big, booted feet. The rock-hard muscles of his chest quivered beneath her hands and an answering tremor coursed through her. But when his tongue invaded the inner recesses of her mouth, the taste of his desire, the heady sensation of his tender stroking, sent a warm current flowing through her and caused her knees to give way.
When she sagged against him, he caught and held her close, allowing her to feel the firm insistence of his arousal as he shamelessly pressed himself into her lower belly. His breathing harsh, he broke the
André Dubus III
Kelly Jamieson
Mandy Rosko
Stuart M. Kaminsky
Christi Caldwell
A London Season
Denise Hunter
K.L. Donn
Lynn Hagen
George R. R. Martin