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As she pulled a glass from the cupboard, he looked around. The cabin was an open-concept layout, the kitchen and living room large and flowing into one another. He liked the sparseness of the area, neat and clean. There was a butterscotch-color leather couch and two overstuffed burnt-sienna-colored chairs with a large crimson and gold cedar coffee table the centerpiece between the whole ensemble. In another corner was a rocking chair with a quilted pillow on its seat. The red brick fireplace against the northern side of the cabin completed it. There was homey warmth to this place. He could feel it and he started realizing they were safe. Really safe. No interruptions by Brudin. No staying on guard twenty-four hours a day. Nik felt as if he were a snake shedding the heavy, armored skin he’d had to wear for so long. The lamps on the end tables were antique, Eighteenth Century. He liked that Daria had created rooms that reflected her taste, not mimicked out of some must-have home interior magazine. It was a hodgepodge of furniture, but most importantly, it was inviting and a metaphor-like cradle to his exhausted spirit that fed him in the best of ways. He liked that she had picked some of the wildflowers from around her fence and placed them into a bright red glass vase on the round, oak table that sat at one end of the kitchen area.
“Your home is as beautiful as you are,” he murmured.
“Thanks. It has taken me nearly three years to get it decorated.” She glanced at him and said, “Not that I’m a designer. I wanted furniture that reflected me when I can get some downtime between missions.”
“I can see that. I like it,” and he met her gaze, feeling his entire body go from tiredness to anticipation. Nik saw her wanting him, felt it in his core, and had never wanted anything more than Daria.
“I love rocking chairs, as you can see,” and she placed the glass beneath the spigot.
“You are a woman who is always in motion,” he teased, “either in your mind or physically speaking.”
“You’re right, I am,” Daria assured him, handing the glass of water to him. She rested her hips against the counter, studying him as he drank thirstily, his Adam’s apple bobbing repeatedly.
Wiping his mouth, Nik set the glass on the swirled red, brown and gold granite counter. The cupboards were made of cherry wood, darker than the pine logs, a reddish hint tinging the beautifully crafted wood. He reached out, sliding his fingers through her hair, “It’s done, Daria. I’m officially here in the U.S. Dan will arrive a week from now. He already has his medical team in place and the State Department is going to handle everything for him.”
She nodded, giving him a caring look as she leaned into his fingers exploring through her hair, her scalp leaping with pleasure. “You’ve got to be relieved.” She moved away from the counter and into his arms, resting her hands against his chest. “Korsak is talking?”
“Yes, to both questions. The CIA is very pleased. He’s angling for Witness Protection, asking to stay in America and getting a new name. He knows the Russian mafia will try and find him and hunt him down if he doesn’t. They may, anyway. I don’t really care if that monster lives or dies.”
She moved her fingers across the expanse of the gray t-shirt he wore. To an outsider, Nik would probably look like a young man in his late twenties or early thirties, and might be mistaken for a fitness consultant. She saw his thick biceps move beneath the material of his sleeves and she wanted so badly to touch his body, absorb him, and capture him deep within her. It had been nearly five days since parting from the Lima airport in Peru that they’d been in physical contact with one another.
She lifted her gaze, seeing the joy banked up in his eyes. The changes in Nik were stunning. The stress around his eyes and mouth were gone. His face was relaxed as never before and it made him look so much younger. He was finally free of a five year past he’d carried like a millstone around his neck. She slid her fingers slowly across the material of his shirt, feeling his muscles tense beneath her grazing, exploring touch.
“The people at the State Department have been very forthcoming,” he told her, hope in his deep voice as he slid his fingers through her loose hair, enjoying the sensation of its cool silkiness against them. “Dan will be flown to the USA. There had been a last-minute red tape issue, and it has taken longer than either of us wanted. They are going to call me and let me know specifics when everything is in place. The team in Colorado is alerted and expecting him. And, because this ongoing brain sync takes months, the State Department has leased him an apartment nearby. He will be kept busy to a degree, but they said he would have a lot of free time to do what he wants to do, within the limits of the TBI issues. I will fly out to be with him for a week or two, and then come home to you. I want to make sure he’s doing all right and that he knows we’re close and will help in any way we can as he recovers.”
She smiled a little. “That’s wonderful. And yes, we’ll be there to support him, for sure. You look so much younger right now, Nik. I’ve got to think it’s because that green hell marathon is over?”
He dragged in a deep breath, resting against the counter, allowing her to lean up against him, their hips meeting, melting hotly against one another. He moved thick strands of hair across her proud shoulders. “Yes.” And then he gave her a wry look. “I haven’t looked at myself lately in any mirrors, Kitten. My mind… heart… were on getting through the mass of paperwork, red tape, interviews, and making sure Dan would be allowed into this country, and,” he leaned down, taking her mouth gently, his lips barely against hers, “dreaming of the day that I would be right here with you in my arms, touching you, kissing you…,” and he nudged her lips open more, feeling them bloom hotly beneath his with barely constrained eagerness. He could feel Daria trying to control herself for his sake. She wanted to give him time to come down from all the demands on his time, the intense briefings that would last hours at a time. The truth was, he needed to be here, with her. He needed to hear her voice, feel her tender touch, absorb the joy shining in her wide, flawless gold eyes for him alone.
Her mouth opened like the petals of a fragrant orchid beneath his coaxing. Her hair swirled around his face, her arms locking behind his neck as she pressed herself wantonly against him, her hips sensuous, sliding teasingly against him. Nik groaned, taking her mouth with primal hunger, his senses exploding as he tasted her and smelled that spicy female scent of hers that drove him crazy.
Tearing his mouth from hers, breathing unsteadily, Nik picked her up into his arms in one smooth, unbroken motion. “Guide me to your bedroom,” he growled thickly, already carrying her across the living room toward the hall. Society and niceties be damned. He wanted his woman more than he wanted oxygen to breath. Daria gave him a sultry smile filled with promise, her arms settling around his shoulders, relaxing fully in his embrace.
“Second door on the left, and the door is already open,” she said, her voice wispy. “Welcome home, Nik. That isOURbedroom from now on.”
Nik’s whole world centered on Daria. He barely noticed the heavy gold brocade drapes open at the large window, the outside air flowing in between their flutterings, giving the room a woodsy scent. He could smell it on her skin and hair as well. Taking her over to the king-sized bed of red and gold cedar, he deposited her on the dark green bedspread, watching how her hair haloed out around her head and across the pillow.
“I need you,” he rasped, unbuckling his belt, unsnapping his jeans, his gaze locked on hers.
“I need you more.” She nodded and sat up, pulling her red tee off, revealing that she wore no bra.
Heat shot through his throbbing lower body as he watched her small, beautiful breasts revealed. He smiled.
“I like that you don’t wear a bra.” Nik divested himself of his boots, jeans, and boxer shorts. He saw Daria stare appreciatively at his erection. Her eyes were heavy-lidden, filled with arousal, lips parting as if she could hardly wait to savor him.
“I hate bras,” she muttered, laying down, lifting her legs and pulling off her shorts.
As he hauled the gray t-shirt off his head, his eyes widened considerably. “You’re not even wearing… panties…” and he chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t tell me you wore neither down in Peru?” He rolled on a condom.
Daria gave him a playful pout and knelt in the center of the bed. “I did only because I had to. From now on? You’ll just have to keep my secret that I don’t wear a bra or panties, generally speaking.”
He felt his erection throb in celebration of that reply as he joined her on the bed, matching her wicked grin. “I was right after all,” he said thickly, laying down and bringing her beside him. “You are more wild jaguar than human. I like that.”
“And you,” Daria whispered, dragging her nipples through the hair across his chest, pushing her hips against his erection, “are more jaguar than man. I’ve always known that about you,” she whispered, framing his cheek with her hand, looking deep into his eyes, suddenly serious. “We never got the time to really know one another, Nik. Starting right now, that changes.”
“Alex texted me. He wants to meet me today, but I told him that sometime tomorrow would do, instead.” He skimmed her flank, running his fingers across her hip, bringing his strength to bear, silently asking her to nestle hotly against him.
Daria whispered back, “He and Lauren are coming over for dinner tomorrow night at seven. We have the rest of this day and all of tonight, Nik, with no interruptions. Let’s make the most of it…”
