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  He did an about-face and trotted back to where she stood watching him. “Okay, Donavon.” He didn’t pull her close, only touched her face and gazed into her eyes. “I’m not good at making pretty talk. I know I want to be with you. I want to make you coffee in the morning and read the paper in bed with you.”

  If she didn’t say something soon, he would go into cardiac arrest.

  “Gun, you just like the way I wear my weapon.” She caught his fingers and laughed.

  “Hell, no, that’s not the reason I came back. I just love having a woman rip my balls out.” Hold it, you fool. You’re trying to run her off.

  “Gun, that’s exactly what I mean. We’ll never get along. We kill people for each other, but we can’t make it for ten minutes without tearing each other apart.”

  He grimaced in disappointment and frustration. “Okay, I know you want that appointment in D.C. That’s great. You want that, and I want to go to the Middle East.” He pressed his palm to her cheek. “But, hell. Can’t we have a home base? Just know we’ll be there sometimes when the other one comes home?” He jiggled her shoulders. “Ali, say yes.”

  Her eyes widened, and her mouth smiled sweetly again. “You called me Ali. You really must like me.”

  “I’ll call you a lot better things when I get the chance.” He saw the crowd filing down the loading chute to her plane. “Donavon, is it a plan or not?”

  “Only a crazy woman would miss that wild ride.” She kissed his mouth and nodded. “I’ll think about it, Gun.”

  “That’s all I ask.”

  She left, and the weight of new commitment weighed heavy on his chest. It would never work.

  * * * *

  Two hours later, and miles away from Florida, Ali silently condemned herself for even considering settling again. Gun would never be happy or a complete person tied down with her and her idea of home. She didn’t cook, didn’t count pennies, wasn’t crazy about having kids. And most of all, she damned sure didn’t like the idea of sitting at home waiting, while her mate was out having a good time.

  Damn, she’d left her gum at the hotel. She pressed back against the seat and looked out at the gray clouds the plane plowed through. Who was she kidding? He was too deep in her blood to miss the chance he offered. Settling or not, she wanted him.

  She used the plane’s phone and punched in his cell phone number. When he picked up, her answer was brief but powerful.

  “Hello, Gun. Yes.”

  Chapter 28

  Three months later, Ali knew she appeared to be living her dream, living large, living the good life. Almost thirty-one, and she had it all. What a lie. She had nothing to anchor her life. A woman needed more than a baby-sitting job in her life.

  She’d had a reason for every breath a few months ago. Jack Gunnison had been far more than just her partner on a mission. He’d taken her from a world of mundane existence to blood-sizzling excitement. Now, he was off on a new mission, and she was waiting for her heart to start beating on its own again.

  Keeping the First Family out of danger wasn’t exactly what she’d hoped it would be. Standing around at galas, evenings at the opera, trips to the weekend home, and even a State dinner or two didn’t ease her need for action.

  Now she stood in the hallway outside her supervisor’s office, holding transfer orders back to her old group in the FBI located in St. Louis. She’d been reluctant to ask for the transfer, not wanting to appear undisciplined and a quitter, or worse, not having a goal in life. Glancing around, she focused on the group of tourists filing out of the empty press room.

  The young visitors were always a source of concern with their rambunctious ways and curiosity. She took a few steps in the direction of the side exit door, but stopped when a particularly hefty male of about seventeen decided to break ranks. He calmly removed his cell phone from his pocket and began to take pictures. Pandemonium erupted. The group escort yelled, and the horrified teacher shrieked.

  Probably scared out of his wits, the kid vaulted a red velvet rope and sprinted off toward the east wing.

  Ali charged after him, hoping she wouldn’t lose her footing on the slick marble floor. She caught up with him before he could open a side door.

  “Hold it, mister.” She looked at the teenager and wanted to cry. He could have been her silly-assed brother on a field trip, getting into trouble. “Are you lost? Your group’s waiting over there.”

  Another secret service agent took over the job of questioning the frightened young man, leading him into a side office and shutting the door. The kid had just had his first run in with the law.

  There was no way she could stay in this job. Chasing high school kids through the halls of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue

  .

  Lifting her shoulders, she looked around the hallway for the last time. She couldn’t lie to herself. She wasn’t going to miss it at all. In fact, she wanted to skip down the quiet hall and slam the door on her way out. Good-bye, boredom. Hello, blood and guts.

  * * * *

  Gun waited for Ali’s answering machine to stop with the greeting crap. Shit. He had to leave a message or do the cowardly thing and hang up.

  “Donavon. I’m in Camp Lejeune, waiting to hop a flight out of here, and I’ll get into D.C. by midnight. Everything all right with you?” He hesitated and rubbed his forehead. “My clothes won’t be on the sidewalk...will they?” He held the receiver away from his mouth while he cussed his stupidity. She wouldn’t think that was funny. This was Donavon he was trying to talk to. She’d wait until he got home to toss him and his clothes out. “See you in awhile.”

  He placed the receiver on the unit and looked around the mess hall. Saturday night and almost empty, except for the unlucky few guys doing KP. He spoke to the nearest one who swabbed down the stainless steel coffee urns.

  “Thanks a million for the sandwich, man. Damned nice of you to do that for me.”

  The young man held up a fist and pumped several times. “We aim to please, sir.”

  “Mission accomplished.” He left the large dining hall to get in the van waiting to take him to the airport.

  * * * *

  Ali had dinner with several friends in a favorite bistro before going home. And not until after she had turned down several dates with very eligible men. The only thing stopping her was the ever-present memory of Gun.

  She was completely insane to equate her life with him. He wasn’t even in the picture anymore. Only embedded in her crazy heart.

  Getting free of him would be a lot easier once she had real direction and a new assignment with the FBI. She couldn’t help but think of the way he always warmed her hands with his breath when the car was cold. She put her hands inside her coat, almost feeling his touch. For a split second, she felt the sensation of tight muscles clenching in a mini-orgasm. A soft groan slipped from her throat. Next mission. Find a way to take care of this problem.

  By the time she pulled into her parking spot next to her apartment, she felt hot resentment toward the man creating confusion in her life. Gun.

  She didn’t want to go into the quiet apartment with all her memories of him. Finally, unable to put it off any longer, she pulled the keys from the ignition. When she opened the car door and got out, she noticed strings of brightly colored Christmas lights strung in the windows of several apartments. Crap. Christmas season already, and of course she was alone.

  She locked the car and used the brick pathway that circled around the rear of the building to the front entrance. The path ran by her apartment’s bedroom window. Slowing her step, she glanced around the courtyard. The place smelled of setup. The lamp on her nightstand was on. She hadn’t touched the lamp before leaving that morning.

  Stepping onto the small stoop, she turned the key in the door in the entry door. It swung open to an empty, quiet hall. Ali shrugged.

  You’re a suspicious woman. Nothing wrong with that.

  Still, being cautious was to err on the side of good judgment. She grimaced as the k
ey in the lock grated like a car starting on a cold morning. So much for stealth. Her Walther PPK was in her hand as she pushed the heavy oak door open.

  Damn. Someone was ripping her off. The creeps were in the kitchen, using the refrigerator light to see.

  Sliding around the doorway and pressing close to the wall, she got a better look at the intruder. “Gun?”

  She put her weapon back in her handbag and gazed at him with catapulting emotions. Two in the morning, and here he stood, looking in the refrigerator. Tall, dark mystery and monumental sex appeal.

  He didn’t appear moved at all, just like the first time she’d seen him, and his nonchalance still irritated her.

  “Hey, Donavon. This all we have to eat?”

  “How was I to know you were coming back?”

  He shrugged and tossed the salami back into the meat keeper before turning around to look at her.

  “Hi there, sweet thing.” He braced his hand on the open door of the fridge, a half-smile on his lips. “Did you miss me?”

  In three months, he had gotten pretty lanky for a guy over six feet. Thin or not, he was sexy as hell and getting him bulked up would be the most fun she’d had in a long time. That would have to wait until she wore him completely down with lovemaking.

  “Miss you?” She dropped her purse onto their small dinette table. “Were you gone?”

  Her world came together as he reached for her, pulling her into his embrace, moving her to stand in front of the open refrigerator. He kissed her into total rapture, the kiss clean and sexy, with a taste of the beer he’d been drinking.

  The chill from the fridge didn’t bother her. He pushed her further inside and slowly slipped his tongue deep inside her mouth, groaning loud enough to let the neighbors know he was home.

  His body was still warm as a tropical wind and tough as nails in her arms. And his desire for her became easier to feel the longer they stood in that icy little space. A wave of vapor bloomed around them before he pulled her close and reached around her to slam the refrigerator door.

  He caught her chin in his fingers and whispered, “I’ll bet you did miss me, Donavon.”

  “Hell yes, you devil.” She hugged his neck, smiling provocatively as he picked her up. “Do you need more light?”

  “You have to be yanking my chain, hot stuff.” He covered her lips in a hungry kiss. “I remember the way.”

  Chapter 29

  Ali loved the rustle of the sheets and the scent of his aftershave that rendered her helpless. How could she be indifferent to the man with slow hands and warm kisses? She locked her ankles over his lean waist and lifted her hips to take him in, biting his lip, trying to feel and taste every inch of him.

  He slowed for a second to murmur in her ear. “Donavon, tell me you’re not holding back on me. I haven’t had sex in three months.” He groaned like an animal in agony.

  “Gun,” she gasped. “Don’t you dare let go.” She clenched her teeth and arched to him, clinging to a thin line of sanity and pure pleasure until her climax overwhelmed her into submission. “Okay, now! Oh, yes! Yes!”

  She relaxed and raised her arms above her head, while he grabbed her legs to drag them back over his waist. He hadn’t come yet, and she stared up at him in fascination. He was getting harder by the stroke, and she was ready to enjoy a second climax.

  He held her tight; pumping deep and steady, letting her feel him to her belly button. A little praise might keep him going longer. “Did I ever tell you what a bad boy you are and how much I like that?”

  He said something that she didn’t hear, but that didn’t matter, not when she was lifting off the bed in a blaze of wildfire pleasure.

  Rolling around in the damp sheets with Gun topped anything she’d ever experienced. Her body was becoming super-responsive and supple in his hands.

  She knew he was coming, by the grip of his fingers on her hips and the drive of his body while he devoured her lips in a scorching kiss that lasted until he groaned and fell on her. With his face pressed into her neck, he moaned and gasped, murmuring choice words.

  “I’ll never fuck again…I’m drained, and it’s all you, Donavon. The most fantastic pussy in the stratosphere…”

  “Gun.” She moved under him and smiled. “You don’t have to say that. I’m satisfied. For now.”

  His knee pressed into her thigh when he rolled off her.

  “Gun!”

  “Sorry, beautiful.” He released her and dropped onto the bed beside her, reaching out to stroke her breast. “Forgot what sleeping in a bed was like.”

  She laughed and caught his hand. “Don’t go to sleep yet.”

  He made a sound of irritation, one she recognized as a desire to be left alone. She sat up to gaze at her weary bed partner. “I’m serious. You’ve been gone three months. Talk to me.”

  His hand covered his eyes. “Go ahead, I’m listening.”

  “No, you’re not.” Was he already snoring?

  “What do you want me to say?”

  “If I have to drag it from you, then screw you.” She wished she didn’t sound like a possessive bitch.

  His dark gaze burned into her when he lifted onto an elbow to stare at her. “I don’t know what you need to hear, Donavon.”

  Turning onto her side to face him, she named one item from her list of complaints. “Okay, for starters, how do you feel about…things? Us?”

  Damn, why had she let all that out? His eyes hooded, his mouth a slash of cold resentment.

  “Why do you have to have words for it?” He caught a tendril of her hair and twined it around his finger. “I fuckin’ like you, Donavon. Okay?”

  Okay. How could she be pissed off about the attitude she’d had to accept from their first meeting? Gun was not the man for her. Or, not the man who wanted her. She knew better than to get misty-eyed and needy over him.

  Hell, in a few days, she’d be the one not answering letters or making phone calls. Lighten up, and drink him in. Eat him up while he’s here in your bed, in your life. They were government operatives, and she accepted the fact there was no real possibility they would ever have a conventional relationship.

  No, they would meet occasionally, grabbing their pleasure on the run. That wasn’t so bad. Their brief, frenzied, passionate reunions were preferable to never being with Gun at all.

  “Good enough, you hard-ass.” She rolled on top of him and plastered herself to his lean body. “We still have time to try out your stamina before the cock crows.” She patted his hip and kissed his chin. “You up for it?”

  “Keep rubbing that on my dick, and I’ll be up for anything.” His touch kindled the flow of hot desire through her. “Did you really think I wasn’t coming home?”

  Of course, she wouldn’t tell him how worried she’d been. “Never gave it a thought.”

  Ali moved up to straddle his hips, guiding his rock-hard cock to her and fitting herself over him. She loved his hands touching her and teasing her into a fast climax. She always derived as much pleasure from his orgasm as her own.

  She dropped to his chest and worked her fingers into his hair, kissing his mouth to imprint his taste in her memory. The faint aroma of sun-warmed sagebrush and crushed mint leaves mingled with oriental spice. Tomorrow they probably would go in opposite directions, doing things that would scare most people to death.

  Was something wrong with her to prefer this life above predictability? Hearing his murmurs of surrender reassured her that this choice was the only one for her.

  * * * *

  There must have been one hell of a party in their bedroom last night. The country flowers comforter Ali prized so highly was balled up and tossed against the wall along with the pillows and his clothes. The top sheet was missing, leaving him naked as a baby in her space.

  He worked his shoulders, knowing the time had come to tell her he was only flying through, not staying long. She was the only person in the world who intimidated him, made him worry just a little about what he said and did.
What the hell was his duffle bag doing on the bed?

  He kicked it aside and grinned as he remembered Donavon searching its contents. He wondered if she really thought he’d been fucking around and left some incriminating evidence in his gear. He should tell her about the countless hard-ons he’d suffered through without female assistance.

  “Gun.”

  He propped himself up against the fancy padded headboard. “Damn, baby. You make this mess?”

  “Only half of it.” She looked at him from the kitchen doorway, drinking a glass of orange juice. “Want a bite to eat?”

  “No. Come on back to bed and let me nibble on you.”

  His blood ran hot and fast just watching her lick her lips. She was beautiful with her crazy curly hair and blue cat eyes. He’d known from the first she was a hot babe, but as time wore on, she had become something big in his life. The thought nearly gave him a coronary.

  She strode across the floor to flop onto the bed and onto his empty belly. She looked dangerous and hot, ready for another tussle if he could redirect her energy into having more sex. “Ready for another round, hot stuff?”

  Her soft laugh worked like a warm mouth to his balls. “Have I ever said no?”

  “I’m going to wind up whimpering like a beat dog this time.” He pulled her down to lie beside him, kissing her with an unexpected sense of desperation. Damn, man. Ease up.

  The woman definitely had an effect on him. A short year ago, he’d have thought of her in terms of nothing more than a phenomenal piece of ass. Now, he couldn’t think about her in such simple terms.

  Lost in the taste and feel of Donavon, he almost didn’t hear the voice mail on her answering machine. A distinctive male voice addressed her as Ms. Donavon, but she didn’t ease up in the business of making his cock hard as a steel beam.

  Goddamn it, the guy was telling her he was secretary to the director, and she was to report for a new assignment with the FBI tomorrow. “Hold it a minute, gator gal.”