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He couldn’t believe it. Gesturing frantically, he shooed her away. The voices by the barn were growing audible. The men were on their way back.
Patrice lowered her camera and went outside the gate, but then she stood by, as if waiting for him. Jesus, he was going to have to go out that way, through the main fuckin’ gates and under the light, just to make sure that she took off and didn’t get spotted.
He took a deep breath and darted toward her. There was no point in pussyfooting around with her flaunting herself. Grabbing her around the waist, he urged her on. “What the hell are you doing? I told you to stay where you were.”
“I got some great footage.”
“If anything happened to you,” he growled, risking a glance back. Luckily, no one had followed. He stumbled into the trees, grappling for the camera at his belt to use for vision.
“It’s okay, I waited until they had gone inside. I was being very careful, honestly.”
Careful? She didn’t know the meaning of the word. Once they got well into the cover of the trees, he paused, grabbing her by the shoulders and peering at her. “You’re a liability.”
“You won’t say that when you see the footage I got.”
He was about to tell her off, when she wrapped her hands around his neck and nestled up against him, resting her soft lips against the underside of his jaw.
“I’m sorry, Ben. I couldn’t help it; I wanted to see you in action. You look so good when you’re in action.”
Jesus. There was a bunch of smugglers not sixty feet away, and he was having a hard-on. Pulling her up against him, he shook his head at her. “Don’t tell me, you’re horny?”
“Mmm-huh.” She dropped her head back and looked up at him. Her expression in the moonlight was dreamy, her eyes sparkling. She moved her hands down to his hips and dug her fingernails into his buttocks. The scent of her perfume was mixed with the earthy female smell of her arousal, and it hit him hard.
He wanted her. Now.
Her eyes flashed. “Even more than last time, wow.” Her voice came out on a soft, warm breath that teased his overwrought skin. “What a rush.”
Definitely a liability.
“Come on,” he said. The inevitable affect of her physical state had got a hold of him, and it was fast eating away at his ability to think rationally. They had to get out of here, and fast. Either that or he’d have to have her, right now, right there on the forest floor. He’d been advised never to work with children or animals. Now he had to add crazy French women to the list.
Stumbling on the path, he flicked on his camera to watch where they were treading, dragging her along by the hand and refusing to turn round until he got safely back to the car. Only then would he risk taking this conversation any further. Only then would he risk facing the fact that he’d probably never be able to undertake another investigation without getting a hard-on, because of this night.
The trees thinned out and he could see the car up ahead. Thank god. Once they were within a few feet, he paused to catch his breath.
“Let’s go back to my place.” She ran on past him, towards the driver side door. “We can burn it off there!”
“Like a crazy dream,” he murmured to himself, and went to the nearside.
As soon as he was in the seat, she turned the key, put the headlights on and revved the engine. Shoving it into gear, she headed off along the bumpy country lane at more haste than he would have recommended, but he wasn’t about to argue.
“Is it far?” The question seemed almost incongruous, given the subject on both their minds, and he laughed as he said it.
“No, just a couple of minutes.”
He kept his hand on her thigh as she drove, and found himself wondering for the first time about her status. Did she live alone? Was there a boyfriend? She was pretty kooky, but surely she wouldn’t have forgotten a fundamental thing like that.
Before he had time to dwell on it for too long, the lane reached a junction. She swerved right, onto a bigger road. Within yards it ran through a small village, no more than a couple of streets. She pulled the Land Rover off the road and parked in front of a small cottage that was almost totally overgrown with ivy.
“Come on, Ben O’ Neil, some of your many talents are needed indoors.” She laughed, then jumped out of the car and jogged toward the house.
Ben barely got a look at the place before she grabbed his hand and led him on into another room. He caught sight of two, maybe three cats sitting up on the sofa amongst stacks of cushions to scrutinize him. He narrowly avoided another stretching feline perched on a pile of papers as he stumbled into the bedroom behind Patrice.
When she flicked the lights on, he stopped up short. Three different colored light shades gave the room an almost psychedelic look. Framed pictures filled the walls, and the bed was awash with velvet cushions in a range of colors. The overall effect was strangely dreamlike.
“You’ll get used to it,” she said, and then reached for his jeans, plucking at the buttons. He assisted—quickly back on course when he saw her eagerness. She undid his fly and then pushed him back onto the bed, where he sprawled over a stack of cushions.
Patrice was stripping, and he reached up and pulled his T-shirt over his head while he watched her. He’d already learned that her body was lean and nimble, but he wanted to see it naked. All that energy was there in her lim
