Page 29 of Cutter’s Lady

“Okay.” It would add to the innocuous, aimless look of their walk, and it would also give him a better look at their tail. They crossed the wide street and stepped over the low border hedge.

Leslie peered closely at the red blooms. “You’re right. They are poinsettias. I’ve never seen them growing wild like this. Aren’t they beautiful?” She turned away from the bush and glanced down the median. “Oh! What are those?”

She started toward another bush, from which hung long white trumpet-shaped flowers, like ornaments from a Christmas tree. Cutter followed her; she couldn’t have done better if she’d known what he wanted, for she was taking them closer to the tail.

“That’s an angel’s-trumpet tree,” he told her, coming up behind her and placing his hands lightly on either side of her waist.

Leslie inhaled deeply. “Umm, smell them.”

Cutter moved closer and rested his head against hers, but his eyes flickered toward the man on the sidewalk, now only ten feet away. With a trained eye, Cutter took in his features in an instant without even seeming to look at him. “Yeah, they give off a scent only in the evening.”

The flower’s heavy, exotic scent of musk enveloped them, mingling with the faint perfume clinging to Leslie’s hair, stirring Cutter in a way that had nothing to do with providing a cover for his survey of the area and their tail. Leslie reached out and touched one of the pendulous white flowers, then took one of the large leaves between her fingers. It was thick and velvety, and she rubbed it gently; it was intensely sensual—the velvet feel, the thick, erotic scent. It seemed very natural, very right for Cutter to bend his head and kiss the tender flesh of her neck.

“The leaves and flowers are poisonous,” he murmured, sliding his lips down her neck, then back up, taking tiny nibbles. “But they’re also highly narcotic. The natives sometimes smoked them.”

His kisses ignited Leslie’s already heightened senses, sending wild sparks of pleasure spinning throughout her body. She sagged against Cutter, and his arms went around her, molding her against his frame. His mouth sought out the supremely sensitive skin on the back of her neck, and Leslie let out a little moan. She had never been kissed there before. She wondered why not; it seemed the most shivery, sexual spot on her body right now. Her head fell forward, offering up her neck to the wonder of his lips. The gesture sent passion surging up in Cutter, for there was a submissive quality to it that spoke of a strong woman melting with desire.

Suddenly fire was licking along his veins, making it difficult to recall why he was out here. He tried to remember whether he had seen everything he wanted to. The location of the tail, yes. A closer look at one of them. A glance at the side exit and street. What was left? He tried to pull his mind back from the physical pleasure of his mouth on her satiny skin. He ought to… to approach the hotel from the other side. Yes; he’d meant to do that. There was the man left in the car. It wouldn’t hurt to get a closer look at him, too. And if they could make their watchers believe that once they went inside the hotel they wouldn’t come back out tonight, their tail would probably choose the easiest course and stay in their car, watching only the front exit—and none too carefully.

Cutter smiled inwardly. He knew precisely the way to make them think he and Leslie wouldn’t be leaving again that night—and it would be pure pleasure doing it. If he and Leslie staged a passionate scene before they went into the hotel, the other men would be sure they wouldn’t leave their room, at least not for an hour or two. He and Leslie could slip out immediately and go to the boat. They’d have to wait a few hours there, but it would be worth it to have an assured escape from their tail.

Cutter slid his hands up her body, and Leslie made a funny little purring noise. She turned, her hands going to his shoulders. Cutter looked down at her, and it seemed as if everything inside him began to jump and twist and roll. Her eyes were big and dark, her mouth soft, asking for his kiss.

He bent to kiss her, then pulled back. He recalled their kiss this morning and the powerful effect it had had on him. If he started kissing her here, he wasn’t sure he’d remember to do what he had planned. “Let’s go back,” he said huskily.

Surprise and disappointment flashed in Leslie’s eyes. “Oh.”

He squeezed her tightly against him for an instant and dropped a brief, hard kiss on her lips. “There are a couple of other things I want to see.”

He made himself pull back, loop an arm around her shoulder and start walking. They strolled along the median back toward the hotel. Cutter hoped their change of direction wouldn’t appear suspicious. The way they were walking, leaning together, gave the appearance of a couple interested only in each other. He didn’t know how much the others had been able to see of the scene by the trumpet tree, but he felt sure it was enough to indicate romance. And he doubtless looked infatuated enough to be convincing as a man who didn’t care where he walked, wanting only to feel his woman’s body next to his in the romantic tropical evening.

They strolled past the white car, and Cutter was able to see the face of the man who sat at the wheel. Their steps slowed, then came to a halt. Cutter drew Leslie into his arms, turning so that he faced the rear of the car. He bent and nuzzled her ear, and Leslie gave a throaty chuckle that vibrated along his spine. He buried his face in the juncture of her neck and shoulders and let his hands roam over her. The curve of her hips was sweet and firm beneath his fingers.

“Cutter.” Leslie leaned back and looked at him. Her smile was bright and saucy. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

He chuckled. “Me? Seduce you? Are you sure it isn’t the other way around?”

Leslie tilted her head in a pretense of thought. “I don’t know. Maybe it is.” She came up on tiptoe, sliding her body up his, and he drew in a sharp breath at the provocative gesture. She pressed her lips against his in a soft, tentative kiss, but when she started to draw back, he did not let her go. Instead, his arms tightened around her, and he moved his mouth over hers, brushing her lips softly, insistently, until they parted. Then his tongue came inside, hot and velvety.

A searing ball exploded in Leslie’s chest. The alcohol tonight seemed to have stripped away all her outer layers, leaving her vulnerable, sensitive, alive to every sensual pleasure. Never before had she trembled at a man’s kiss. Never before had she felt such a deep, driving hunger as now pierced her. She wanted Cutter. She wanted him to touch her, to know her, to have her. Something primitive and long hidden within her surged out, yearning and seeking, aching to bring him inside her. She knew instinctively that the same something deep within her had wanted it from the first moment she saw him.

Leslie moved against him and felt his indrawn breath in her mouth. He backed her up against an empty car parked beside them, pressing his body even more into hers, so that her breasts were crushed against his chest and her abdomen molded to the hard ridge of his desire. He broke off their kiss only to change the slant of his mouth and kiss her again.

Cutter felt insatiable, almost out of control. He wanted to taste her mouth to the depths of its sweetness; he wanted to touch her everywhere. He hovered on the brink of mindless passion. Then some little spark at the back of his brain reminded him that their tail was watching them. It was his plan; he had wanted them to see him kiss Leslie. It was why he had stopped and hugged her in the full glare of the street light.

But now resentment seared through him and he turned so that his body blocked Leslie from their view, as if to protect her from the other men’s eyes. As he moved, her leg slipped in between his, and she rubbed her knee up and down, gliding halfway up his thigh and back, slowly. A shudder ran down him and all thoughts of his plan for escape went out of his head. “I want you. Let me take you back to my room.”

Leslie looked up at him, linking her arms behind his neck. Her face glowed; her eyes were lustrously deep, drawing him in. “Yes,” she murmured. “Oh, yes.”