Page 69 of Trapped With the Secret Agent

“No problem.”

He waited until she got the chador mostly on before asking, “Why me? Why now?”

Her hands fumbled and she dropped the serviceable white garment on the floor.

“What?” she asked in a fragile voice as she bent over to pick it up. Her hands were too shaky to get the clasp done.

He stepped closer and pushed her fingers away, connecting the two ends of the bra behind her back with ease.

“Why me?” he repeated, stroking one hand down the soft, smooth skin of her back. He inhaled deeply. Her scent was unique, earthy and captivating.

“I—” She hesitated and wet her lips. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re intelligent, kind, and ridiculously hot and...and I wanted...” She sucked in a breath and tried again. “I don’t know if I’m going to get out of this alive, and I didn’t want to pass up the chance to be with you.”

He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around to face him. “You scared me.”

“You?” she asked. “Scared?”

He cupped her face with one hand and rubbed his thumb along her bottom lip. “I wish you’d told me before we got started that you were out of practice. I’d have done things a little differently, gone a little slower.”

She snorted, and her expression changed to one of remembered frustration. “You went plenty slow as far as I’m concerned. I thought I was going to go nuts.”

Peter lowered his head. “Good.” He settled his lips against hers and kissed her leisurely, telling her with his lips and his tongue that he still wanted her.

She had no idea what had just happened, but she was going to find out. She’d pushed him past his limit of control by offering something he couldn’t refuse. Herself. She belonged to him now.

She accepted his kiss and returned it with equal passion. She wanted him. She practically screamed it in the strength of her hold around his neck, in the movement of her lips on his, and the slow roll of her hips. It was the most powerful aphrodisiac he’d ever experienced. The knowledge that she wanted him as badly as he wanted her hardened the source of his desire all over again to the point that almost all he could think about was taking his clothes off and having her again. Almost.

He’d already staked his claim on her. It was time to protect what was his.

He pulled away reluctantly, holding her face between his hands, stoking her cheeks with his thumbs. With several long slow kisses, he eased her body away from his then rested his forehead against hers. “You’re addicting.”

“I am?” Georgia’s voice was husky, a seductive growl that had him leaning down to kiss her again before he could stop himself. “Yeah.” He licked his lips, tasting her on them. “Very addicting.” He gave her a rogue’s smile. “Better get out of range of my hands before I succumb to temptation a second time.

Georgia smiled at him, and he felt his groin tighten painfully in response.

“How long do you think it will take them to do...everything?” Georgia asked as she brushed off dirt and dust from the black fabric.

Peter shrugged. “Hard to say. They said ninety minutes. After they disarm the bomb, they’ll try to spread out and get to the hostages so they can herd them down here.”

“I still don’t see how eight of them is enough for that.”

Peter gave her a grim smile. He didn’t doubt her confusion. “The key to an operation like this is to remove individual targets one at a time without alerting the rest. If the SEALs can do that, the terrorists will be beaten before they even realize they’ve lost.”

“Oh.” She stared at him in surprise for a moment then blinked. “You’ve worked with them before, haven’t you?”

“Yeah. A few times. I’ve been in on several ops with Stokes.”

“Ops?”

“Short foroperations. It’s military lingo for a mission.”

“I see.” She cocked her head questioningly. “Is there any other lingo I should know? Just in case?”

Peter shrugged. It would pass the time while they waited, though he could think of better things to do, like finding out what else she liked besides the missionary position.

“I can teach you some of the hand signals.” He held up a closed fist. “This means stop. Not when you feel like it, not one or two seconds from now. Stop dead where you are.”

Georgia chuckled. “I’ve seen that one before. You’ve used it several times already.”

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