His wide palm cupped the back of her head, holding her close. Was it trembling? “Always, Chels. Never doubt it.”
Oh great.Now the lump in her throat had grown to the size of a Carolina pine.
She wanted the moment to last forever, to stay just like this, safe in his arms. But all too soon, he pulled back. “What were you thinking, telling them to do their worst? You were baiting them, egging them on. You stupid, stubborn, self-sacrificing fool.”
And just like that, happiness and relief morphed into incredulity that slid quick as a whistle into anger. Seriously? He was going to stand there—er, squat there—and call her names?
He may be hotter than the door handles of hell,but when he gets all Me Tarzan, You Jane, I want to dump his limp body in the River Thames and feed him to the fishes.After she’d killed him with mind-blowing sex and multiple orgasms, of course. And she could probably cop to his last two accusations. Shewasstubborn, and in that instant shehadbeen willing to sacrifice herself. But the first one?
“S-stupid?” she sputtered. And good news! The lump in her throat had vanished. “Screwyou, Dagan! In case you’ve forgotten, I pulled off this op w-with…”
She stumbled to a stop because he’d ripped off his mask. And there it was. The Beard.
Looking at him dressed all in black, shoulders as broad as the Lowcountry, she couldn’t help but think he resembled a god. One of the mythical beings she read about in her fantasy novels. Formidable. Powerful.Gorgeous.
And here I am, a mere mortal.
The look he pinned on her was one she recognized. She liked to call it his Clint Eastwood gunfighter squint. He tended to whip it out right before he laid into her for something. She braced herself, mentally running through her standard list of comebacks. But he didn’t give her a tongue-lashing. At least not averbalone. Instead, he took her face in his hands and sealed his lips to hers.
She was so surprised that her mouth formed a startledO. Dagan took advantage, his tongue surging between her teeth. His lips were firm yet amazingly soft, and his beard abraded the tender flesh of her cheeks.
Holy mother! Dagan Zoelner was…kissingher!
Oh. My!
Chapter 5
The instant Chelsea’s lips touched his, Dagan realizedshewas the reason he had a mouth. So that he could kiss her. Taste her. Take her sweet, earthy essence inside himself.
“Aw, look at you two.” Ace’s voice broke the intimacy of the kiss. “You’re making my ding-dong and my ping-pongs all tingly. But as the inimitable Short Round inIndiana Jones and the Temple of Doomwould say, ‘No time for love, Dr. Jones!’ We need to get out of here before these dickheads wake up. So unlock those lips, untie Chelsea, and let’s get on the stick.”
Untie Chelsea…
Those two words were hammer strikes at Dagan’s head. Jesus H. What was he doing?
Taking advantage of a woman who is handcuffed and hog-tied, that’s what.
Nausea swirled low in his belly. With a snarl of disgust, he broke the kiss.
“Check their pockets,” he instructed the others, rubbing a hand over his mouth to massage what remained of Chelsea’s sweet kiss into his lips. “Find the drive.”
“Aye-aye, Captain.” Ace snapped him a sarcastic salute, then bent toward the sprawled-out Morrison…or Spider…or whatever the hell the man was called.
Turning back to Chelsea, Dagan didn’t dare meet her eyes. Instead, he went to work on the knot in the electrical cord tying her to the chair.
He was such an ass.Worsethan an ass. He was a cad, a fiend, a low-life shit-for-brains who had taken advantage of a woman who couldn’t give him a well-deserved swift kick to the dick.
“Sonofabitch.” He cursed the knot when it refused to budge. He was working directly beneath her breasts. Given how he’d just mouth-raped her, he was doing his best not to come anywhere near either one of her amazing, soft, oh-so-round boobs.
Finally, he managed to grab a loop of electrical cord and pull it free. As he worked, Chelsea’s words to Morrison’s goon screamed through his overheated brain. She had been so brave, so selfless. And standing outside that door, listening to her willingly sacrifice herself, had made all his feeling for her, feelings he had been refusing to name for years, rise to the surface where they could no longer be denied. Then, when she had gotten all up in his grill, using his name? Not Z, but Dagan? Well, something had broken apart inside him.
I think it’s called self-control.
The only thing he had wanted to do was claim all that was her—the incomparablewonderof her—for himself.
The knot finally came free, and he helped her stand by palming her shoulders.Soft.Chelsea was so infinitely soft. Her softness made him hard.
“Z, I…” she began huskily, then stopped and licked her lips.
