Colby Agency: Guardian Of The Night Part 14

"There's no time to discuss the issue, Noah," she insisted. Despite his irritation and the situation, the sound of his name on her lips made him yearn to hear it again. "Casey ordered me to go. I can't risk having her arrive here and..."

"Then let's not argue. I'm going with you." He took her by the arm and headed toward the front door. "Besides, you wouldn't know where to go for transportation to the mainland anyway. You'll need me for that."

Well, he had her there, Blue admitted silently. "What if we can't get back in time? Have you even left the island in the past five years?"

That dark gaze settled onto hers, the finality there unmistakable. "We'll be back in time."

BY 3:00 a.m. Blue was edging toward panic.

"You're certain the message I received was a hoax?" Victoria Colby asked for the third time.

"Yes, ma'am," Blue explained yet again. "We believe Leberman is trying to lure you to the island using Mr. Camp as bait."

The look of distress that marred the woman's face revealed clearly the depth of her feelings for Lucas.

She shook her head. "I should have killed Leberman when I had the chance."

Blue's gaze met Noah's. To say that the statement surprised her would be putting it mildly. One never expected that kind of thing from a lady dressed in designer clothes and with the presence and carriage of a highbrow sophisticate.

"Ma'am, I'm sure Mr. Ruhl will be here soon and he'll explain everything more completely."

Blue glanced at the sky once more, then back at Noah. He didn't look at all concerned, but she d.a.m.n sure was. Every minute they waited put them that much closer to dawn. The boat ride back to St. Gabriel was a good thirty minutes. This was just too close for comfort.

Mr. Venable, grumping about the unG.o.dly hour with every breath since they'd rousted him from bed, waited in the boat. Blue had insisted that Mrs. Colby remain in the limo with her pilot and the driver. She and Noah did the same.

To her extreme relief a car at last pulled into the parking area. The pilot, who sat in the pa.s.senger seat next to the driver, checked his side mirror. "It's Simon."

Blue breathed easy for the first time since leaving the house. She had to get Noah back there. She and Noah emerged from the car and greeted the arriving agent. He was tall. Definitely the dark, silent type.

Before Blue could stop her, Victoria got out as well.

"Victoria," Simon said with an acknowledging nod. "You had us scared there for a little while."

She shook her head. "I'm certain it was Lucas's voice."

Blue remained silent, as did Noah, and allowed her agent to allay her concerns.

"It may very well have been his voice, but that doesn't mean it was on the up-and-up. You'll be safer here in Savannah. Miss Callahan and her people will keep us informed." He looked to Blue.

"Of course," Blue agreed. "You'll know the minute we hear anything."

Victoria reluctantly gave in. "All right. We'll wait." She glanced at Blue, then Noah. "Thank you for coming." She blinked furiously at the tears welling in her eyes. "I apologize for the inconvenience."

Noah gifted her with one of his rare, charming smiles. "It was no inconvenience whatsoever, Mrs. Colby."

She managed a semblance of a smile. "Have a safe trip back to the island. And find Lucas, would you?"

Getting back to the island and then the house could be a little tricky, however, the promise they made to Victoria Colby about finding Lucas might just prove impossible.

Leberman could be waiting near the island dock. Victoria's instructions had been wait at the dock once she arrived, for transportation on the island. He could have more underlings like the two they'd taken down after Lucas's shooting watching from just about anywhere on the island.

But she and Noah had no choice. It was a risk they had to take.

Noah's life depended upon getting back to the house before daybreak.

THE PINK HUES of a distant dawn were streaking across the sky by the time they reached the house. Noah's hands shook when he attempted to unlock the door, his only visible concession to the anxiety hurtling through them both. Blue sensed his urgency, and very nearly had a nervous breakdown herself. She was certain Mr. Venable would refuse any future offer, no matter how generous, to take her or Noah anywhere. The tension had been as thick as peanut b.u.t.ter during the race across the expanse of water that separated St. Gabriel from the mainland.

Her stomach still churned from the rocky journey.

As soon as the door was locked behind them and the code entered into the security keypad, they performed a quick search of the house. Noah had started arming the security system since Lowell-Leberman-had never been privy to the code. Blue put in a call to Director Casey that the mission had been accomplished. He was greatly relieved. Whatever fate lay in store for Lucas, he would not want any harm to come to Victoria. Blue was positive of that as well.

As she and Noah collapsed on the sofa in the parlor, she wondered what it would feel like to know that kind of love.

Unbidden her gaze moved to Noah. He looked tired. She was certain he'd had even less sleep than she had. She thought again of what he'd told her about Rothman's suggestion that he try the antidote serum. She wished that Noah could have his life back...could walk out into the sunlight without fear. But he was right, trying the serum wasn't worth the risk.

She'd rather have him forever in the darkness than lose him entirely.

The thought gave her a start. What was she thinking? He didn't belong to her in any sense of the word. When this mission was over she would leave, even if she did linger for that unfinished business. Their lives were destined for different courses. But each time she looked at him, as she did now, she realized how accurately she had imagined the artist behind the painting. He was everything she'd fantasized he would be.

"If only I could read your mind," he said softly, his voice silky, dangerous. Dangerous to her heart.

She inclined her head and studied him. "I'm exhausted. If you could read my mind, you'd..." She sighed then. "You'd know that I feel helpless. I can't do anything for Lucas...I..." She shook her head.

"You need sleep."

She shook her head again, then her newly determined gaze settled on his. "There are things we need to talk about. Like your artwork. I want the truth about Noah Drake."

Tension reverberated inside him, but he tamped down the automatic response. He could share his love of painting with her. Not only could he, he wanted to. How smart was that? He almost laughed at his continued need to protect himself. What did it matter anyway? She would be gone soon...it was too late to change the fact that he had grown attached to her. Why pretend? Why ignore the need that would not be slaked by any other means but touching her...having her.

"The truth?" he asked.

She nodded and relaxed more fully into the leather cus.h.i.+ons.

"I received my first canvas and set of oil paints as a gift from my mother on my twelfth birthday. She was an artist and I was pretty good as a kid. At least she thought so." He hadn't thought of his parents in so long the concept of having family hardly felt real. The memories were almost like someone else's! He'd trained himself not to think of them. It was easier that way. No, it was more than simply easy, it was necessary.

"Where are your parents now?" she asked, obviously sensing his melancholy.

"They died in a house fire about ten years ago while I was away on a mission. They were buried long before I even knew they were dead." He would always regret that. He'd been an only child; there had been no one else. A longtime family friend had taken care of the arrangements and pushed the Department of Defense until they located Noah.

"So you started to paint seriously when you were twelve?" she prodded him back to the subject at hand.

He nodded. "But as time went on one thing or the other always got in the way. Girls, cars." More recollections he hadn't considered in years. "After signing on with the military I never looked back." He glanced around the parlor, considered that this place had been his prison for five years now and yet he'd never really lived here. He'd merely existed, gleaning minute fragments of happiness from his ocean and his painting.

"When this happened, I had nothing and no one. Finally I turned to the one thing I'd always wanted to do...painting." He shrugged self-consciously. "It's kept me sane..." He thought about the waves cras.h.i.+ng against the sand outside and even the house that he more often referred to as a prison than not. All of it, even the island had kept him grounded to a certain extent. Yes, the bitterness was still there, but it had lessened somehow these past few days.

She was the reason.

For the first time in five long years he felt something more than the bitterness...more than the need to paint and to run in the darkness. He felt desire and physical need. And those emotions were reciprocated, he knew. Whether she permitted herself to admit the truth or ever allowed herself to succ.u.mb to the temptation, she was drawn to him. That simple, basal response awakened his long-slumbering libido.

"Well-" she curled her legs under her "-if we're going to play truth or dare here, I suppose I can confess my secret as well."

Antic.i.p.ation burned through him. This he wanted to hear. He'd thought he knew everything there was to know about Maggie "Blue" Callahan. Maybe he didn't have such a big head start in the knowing game after all.

"I'm intrigued," he said, stretching his legs out in front of him for comfort. "Don't keep me in suspense." Getting her mind off Lucas would help her relax, if only for a few minutes.

Her gaze traveled the length of him, then moved on to other things around the room as if looking directly at him as she spoke was too difficult. "About six months ago I was in a little Georgetown gallery and I discovered this wonderful painting." She closed her eyes as if imagining the work. The smile told him that it was a pleasant memory...one that she relished recalling. When she at last opened her eyes, she continued, "I'd always a.s.sumed that I was above becoming obsessed with anything other than my work." She laughed softly. "Boy, was I wrong. The scene drew me in, kept me entranced for hours on end. I just couldn't get enough of looking at it."

A new kind of tension moved through him, sending his heart into a faster rhythm...making his pulse react.

"I found myself imagining all kinds of things about the man who'd painted that haunting forest scene. It had to be a man-or maybe I just wanted to believe that. He had to be dark, of course, to convey that enigmatic mood...the forbidden sense of sensuality." Her gaze s.h.i.+fted to his and those blue eyes glittered with unconcealed l.u.s.t. "I was right. It was you. N.D.D."

He needed to touch her, but he didn't dare break the spell. The air was charged with their mutual desire, edged with the raw tension of recent events. His loins tightened with the need pooling there.

She turned away for a long moment. He was afraid she might not say any more, and he so wanted to hear the rest. Finally, she allowed him to see her eyes again.

"I felt it the moment I arrived on the island. A sense of familiarity...of knowing. And then, when we met, I knew there was a connection there, something that drew me to you other than that handsome face and made-for-sin body."

A smile crept across his lips. "Made-for-sin body?"

She shrugged. "I did see you in that towel, you know."

He nodded. "Ah, yes, you did."

"Sin would definitely be the right word."

He splayed his hands and shook his head. "I wish I could claim some special connection that made me notice you, but I can't." The uncertainty in her eyes told him she didn't know how to take his admission. "I simply wanted you the moment I saw you. No pomp and circ.u.mstance, just plain old l.u.s.t."

She blushed becomingly, the dusky red making the rest of her skin look even creamier. "I see. So you didn't want a bodyguard, you just wanted a body."

"Not just any body," he pointed out. "Your body."

Her pulse skipped at the confession. Warmth spread through her immediately just sitting there looking at him. He wanted her...she wanted him. Time to find a distraction.

"I think I'll hit the shower." She stood, stretched and sighed. "You okay for a few minutes?"

He had her .38, not to mention a gun cabinet filled with weapons. She didn't have to ask if he knew how to use them. He was ex-military, not Special Forces but something on that order.

He nodded, saying nothing as she hurried up the stairs without looking back. If she'd looked back she was certain he would have seen the invitation to join her in her eyes.

That would not be conducive to keeping her distance emotionally. Definitely not a good thing.

Well, she was certain it would be good, physically anyway, but it wasn't the right choice.

In her room, Blue shucked her clothes. She turned on the shower and checked the soap, a new habit she'd acquired since coming here. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror, noting the bruises and healing scratches from the gla.s.s slivers. She wondered what Noah saw when he looked at her. Did he feel the depth of emotion she felt when she looked at him? Or was it still just plain old l.u.s.t? She wanted to believe he felt more now. She shouldn't allow herself to go there. She couldn't fall in love with this man. But, if she was honest with herself, she was halfway there already.

Incredibly bad timing for both of them.

She stepped beneath the warm spray and allowed the water to sluice over her. Slowly her muscles relaxed and she sighed with grat.i.tude. Her thoughts went to Lucas and she wanted to cry. She prayed fervently that G.o.d would keep him alive and that they would find him. She thought of the worry in Victoria Colby's eyes. Blue knew then and there that if Noah was wounded and missing, she'd feel much the same way.

"Idiot," she muttered. It wasn't smart to fall in love with a man she could never have...who wanted nothing from her but a physical relations.h.i.+p. Her mother had always warned her that s.e.x without commitment was trouble. An old-fas.h.i.+oned concept, but regrettably true in most cases. In this one without doubt.

For the first time in longer than she could remember, Blue felt homesick. She wished she could hug her mother and kick back with her dad and have a beer. She even missed her brothers. Now that was saying something.

The tears came unbidden and without warning. Once they started she seemed to have no control over them whatsoever. She pressed her forehead to the slick tile and sobbed as quietly as she could. What was wrong with her? She never cried.

The metal-on-metal slide of the shower door brought her head up. Her eyes widened as she took in the naked Adonis standing before her in all his glory. Her breath evaporated in her lungs. Before she could find her voice, Noah stepped in next to her. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, then wrapped those strong arms around her. She told herself to resist, but she simply couldn't.

It felt so good to be held by him. The warmth and sinew of his body made her feel safe and at home. How could she even think of pus.h.i.+ng him away? She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply the scent of his masculine skin, resisting the impulse to burrow her face into that awesome chest. He whispered soothing words to her, his voice so soft. By contrast, his body was hard, yet welcoming. She could feel every perfect contour...every amazing plane of hot male flesh. Her heart plummeted, landing somewhere in the vicinity of her tummy and then surged upward again and thundered back to life. Her skin tingled with the caress of his. She wanted to touch him everywhere at once, but for now she was content just to hold him, to have him hold her.

And then he kissed her and all else ceased to matter.

Those full, wonderfully carved lips moved down to cover hers more completely. He angled her head for better access and her lips parted of their own volition. His hot, steamy tongue thrust into her mouth, making her whimper with need. Her whole body throbbed with that same need. Instinctively she arched into his generous, fully aroused s.e.x.

There was no denying that he wanted her, was more than ready to take her, but he held back, took his time.

Slowly, tenderly, he washed every inch of her body. Kissed every scratch and bruise. By the time he'd shampooed her hair, she was clutching at the slick walls and perched on the edge of climax. Battling for control, she returned the favor, hoping to push him to the edge while slowing her plunge toward it, all the while reveling in the marvelous textures of his body. The smooth taut skin...the dark, wiry body hair. Ridges and planes of pure, honed muscle...the velvety smoothness and arousing thickness of his s.e.x. She wanted him inside her now!

She kissed that carnal mouth and moaned at the sweetness of his taste. "I don't think I'll live another minute if you-"

He shut off the cooling water and stepped out of the shower, bringing her with him. Taking his time he dried her body with the towel she'd placed on the sink. Then he kissed her again and she rubbed down his sleek body with that same towel. His kiss was urgent as their lips met once more, impatient almost. He was nearing that same precipice where she clung precariously. A thrill went through her at the thought that she could take him to that place. He'd been so distant...so remote and untouchable at first.

The man lifting her into his arms and carrying her to the bed was far from untouchable and remote. He was giving and tender, greedy and savage. And she wanted more.

As if their minds were linked, he settled between her thighs, not wasting time on more foreplay. She was ready for him...ready to take all that he would give her. And she knew he was ready too.

He lifted her bottom with strong, sure hands, nudged her entrance. Sweet sounds of urgency and need echoed around them, his guttural, primal, hers more high-pitched but equally desperate. Slowly, he sank into her, the delicious sensation of penetration very nearly unbearable.

Her palms flattened against his chest, she felt the beating of his heart and his name slipped past her lips on a wispy breath. Noah. He kissed her painstakingly slowly, the deep, stretching thrusts of his lovemaking equally unhurried. His body keeping a perfect tempo with that skilled mouth.

Time stood still as they climbed higher and higher together, their bodies reaching...aching for release. And when it came it was mind-blowing...with frantic words and kisses...with fingers fisted in the tangled sheets and clutching sweat-dampened skin.

When he at last lay beside her, she tried to think of the right words to say, but nothing felt right enough. A contented sigh drifted from her lips and he kissed her again.

"I wish I could see you in the light of day," she whispered without thought, then realized her mistake. "I'm sorry. I meant that I want to know every detail of your face."

He turned toward her and took her hand in his then kissed her palm. "I understand." He placed that same hand against his jaw. "There are other ways to see a person."

Understanding what he meant, she reached up with her other hand, wondering why she hadn't thought of that herself. She examined every hollow and ridge...every line and angle. She traced the balanced perfection of his nose, then his slightly heavy brow and those chiseled jaws, that square chin. By the time she'd had her fill of touching his face, her body was fully aroused all over again.

As was his.

His lips found hers, teasing, tasting. "I need to make love to you again," he murmured, his voice husky with desire, then he stilled. "I want to make love to you."

The distinction he made sent her foolish heart rejoicing. Desperate to regain some form of control, she urged him onto his back and moved onto all fours over him. "Only if I can be on top this time," she teased brus.h.i.+ng her torso along the length of his.

The scream of an alarm shattered the moment.

Blue reared up, Noah came up with her. "Is that-?" Her first thought was that someone had entered the house...Leberman.