Page 89 of Her Passionate Hero

“He didn’t, Mateo did. Mateo isn’t Nicolas’ brother, he’s his cousin. San Marcos didn’t want him to do that, Mateo was acting on his own. We need to find San Marcos, and he’s hiding deep. LL is looking for him. We need to find one of his lieutenants who can lead him to us, and since we already have a couple of leads on Mateo, we’re going to pull that string.”

Aliana had clutched his jacket as he told her what he’d heard. He wanted more. He shrugged out of his coat and took off his holster. She stared at his gun as he set it down on the side table next to the couch.

“Hunter,” she said softly, “I’m really kind of liking that out-of-state option.”

He pulled her into his arms. “I know, mi Amor. This is going to be over in just a couple of more days. You’ll go back to being a kick-ass Vice Principal, and this will all be in the past. Well, everything but us.”

She pushed against his chest so she could look into his eyes. Now he saw fear in her eyes for another reason, but behind that, he saw hope. He could work with hope.

Her eyes darted around the room, then she looked down at her robe and she looked back up at him. “Hunter, I, uhm.”

“Easy, Alia, there isn’t a chance in hell I want to make love with you five minutes after I tell you some madman is out to kidnap you.”

“Oh,” she started to bite her lip, and stopped herself, and licked it instead.

“Well, damn woman, if you tempt me like that, I take it back.” He couldn’t hide the desire from his voice.

She started to say something and then stopped.

“What?”

She looked down at his chest, then up at him through her lashes. “Do you think we could kiss again?”

God save him. “Yes, we could definitely kiss again.” He pictured kissing her in that rumpled bed and thought better of it. He led her around the coffee table and pulled her into his arms. She jerked and pulled the robe tight around her legs.

“Easy, everything’s fine. It’s just a kiss, mi Cielieto, nothing more.”

Her eyes cut away from his.

“Alia, it’s okay if you’ve changed your mind.” He leaned back and eased her against his chest. “Just holding you is the stuff of dreams.”

She looked back at him. “I feel special when you hold me. I always have.”

He should have come back years ago. But then again, had he been ready? Would she have been? He eyed her critically—the bruising had faded more, her lips didn’t look swollen, just tempting—but he had to be sure.

“Does your head hurt?”

“Hunter, kiss me,” her warm breath wafted over him as she touched her lips to his.

Her soft heat was incredible, and he wondered how such a delicate touch could be so powerful. He let her lead, but when her tongue came out to trace the seam of his lips, she hesitated and stopped. His eyes drifted open and collided with her panicked blue ones. He cupped her cheeks and drew her back.

“What is it, mi Amor?”

“You’re not doing anything. What am I doing wrong?” Her voice was tremulous, and he could see she was about to cry.

“Oh, Alia, you’re doing everything right. You were perfect. I was wrapped up in your kiss. I thought you wanted to lead.”

“I don’t want to lead,” she said as her fingers bit into his chest. “I want you to. I like it when you do. It’s just, you were taking too long.”

Oh, he could lead, all right. He sifted his fingers through her hair, enjoying her look of pleasure. He cupped the back of her neck, his other hand dipping down beneath her robe just a bit, bringing her inexorably closer. He slanted her head so it was just right when their lips met.

He took possession of the tender treasure, molding her lips to his. She flowered open, and he savored the warm, wet heat, loving how she sought her pleasure. Aliana slid her tongue against his, and he kneaded the taut muscles in the back of her neck, his other hand sliding further down her spine, allowing himself this small taste of her skin.

She released her desperate grip on the front of his t-shirt and speared one hand into his hair, raking her nails against his scalp. He groaned his rapture, arching into the caress. Then his world stilled when he felt her other hand slip under the hem of his shirt and steal its way up his stomach, setting fire to every nerve in his body.

Hunter slowly shifted their positions so she was lying on the sofa. He hated that he had to pull his hand away from the silken skin of her back, but tracing her collarbone was no hardship. He was careful to make sure his body didn’t press against hers. He didn’t want to overwhelm her, but it was difficult because Cielieto had both arms wrapped around him and was pulling him ever downward.

He released her mouth and pressed her face into the crook of his neck, trying to gain a modicum of control, but it was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do, especially as her untried body swayed upwards toward him.