Diane remained still, her jaw locked in a deliberate attempt to exert control over herself and her reaction to the sound of the dark, sexually intent tone that had her body wanting to melt.
There were nights when the thought of him, of the touch she ached for, tormented her to the point that she wondered if perhaps he didn’t own a part of her already. At the very least, he owned her fantasies, her erotically charged, sensually tormented fantasies since the first moment when she had opened her eyes to find him standing above her.
Tall, his shoulders broad, his body powerful, the thick, heavy length of his black hair was much longer than it had been the last time she had seen him. He looked as dangerous as she knew he was. As primal and as savagely intense as she sensed he was.
Denim encased long, powerful legs and rode low on his hips to be cinched by a leather belt at his muscular hips. A white cotton shirt, the arms folded to the elbow covered wide shoulders and an impressive chest. Heavy Western boots covered his feet, a silver chain riding low around the heel.
He looked good enough to take a bite of, and her mouth watered to do just that.
The dark overnight growth of a beard shadowed his lower face—most Breeds couldn’t grow a full beard, but that rakish, next-day growth was the norm for those who allowed that sexy to-die-for look. And that was exactly the look Lawe was going for tonight. The look that stripped her down to bare bones, hard-core sex and the need to ride him until they were both exhausted.
Not that it would take her long to reach exhaustion after the past three months and a search that had driven her bat-shit crazy. But what a way to go.
“What are you doing here?” First replacing the weapon, she then unclipped the holster before walking through the suite. Passing the small living area as Lawe stepped into the room, she moved to the bed where she laid the weapon on the bedside table before turning to face him.
“What I’m doing here should be rather obvious.” Midnight black brows formed a V between the intense ice-cold violet blue eyes that swept over her.
Cold, cold eyes. She could never see what he was thinking, and she sure as hell had no idea how he felt from one second to the next. But she wanted to. There had been times she would have given anything to see behind the ice in his gaze.
“If you say so,” she agreed with a hint of mockery. “I’ve arrived safe and sound, Lawe, so you can go back to your own room, your own place or wherever you’re sleeping now. I’ll give you my report when I give it to Jonas in the morning. I’m too tired for the third degree tonight.”
She often wondered where he slept. And with whom. Rumor was, Lawe spent very few nights alone and his sexuality sure as hell didn’t rest.
She knew the Bureau had several apartments in town, as well as a safe house, where he and other high-level Enforcers stayed while in D.C.
What the hell he was doing here this late simply made no sense. Lawe Justice rarely, if ever, stayed in hotels unless he had the Presidential Suite. And she knew the three Presidential Suites were in use by the Russian Wolf and Coyote Pack leaders, as well as the Russian Feline Pride leader.
“I would have worried about you if I hadn’t known you arrived safe.” He surprised her with his reply. “Damned good thing I did too. You’ve just arrived and I can see how little you’ve taken care of yourself. What good did it do me to rescue you from certain death if you’re just going to commit suicide slowly?”
Never let it be said that the Breeds didn’t protect their assets to the best of their ability. They did. Even to the point that he was here tonight to ensure she had arrived and was tucked safely in her room.
“You prefer I do it quicker? That eager to be rid of me, are you?”
He snorted. “Beats watching you waste away day by day.”
Why, how sweet, she thought with savage mockery.
Yeah, right, that was why he was here all right, to check up on her health.
Bullshit.
He was there for the same reason she couldn’t get him out of her mind. Because neither of them had the self-control or strength of will to stay away from the other. And that terrified her. In the ten months since he’d rescued her from a Middle Eastern hellhole, he’d consumed not just her fantasies but also her thoughts and her determination not to care for anyone but Rachel and Amber.
She didn’t need this. Not here, not now, not at a time when she was trying so very hard to make too many decisions where her life was concerned.
As she turned back to face him, she watched as his gaze shifted from her to the bed, then back.
The bed was turned down invitingly, ready for them if either had the guts to push it.
The shower awaited. They could share it, she thought, though it would be a tight fit. The thought of heated water sluicing over his hard, naked body had her knees weakening in arousal and the need for touch.
Just for touch.
As he had touched her in England just before he left to return to the States after rescuing her. The way he had stroked the backs of his fingers along her cheek.
Or just after Brandenmore had finally been captured by Jonas Wyatt. He’d found her in New York that night before she had flown to Turkey for another job.
He hadn’t taken her. He had just touched her, his calloused fingers playing over her body as though the sensation of her flesh beneath his touch was an ecstasy all its own.