Page 23 of Vaquero
Was this chaste, brotherly kiss all she’d ever have?
Guess so.
The first tears escaped down her cheek.Damn, damn, damn.
“We just met, Meg Duncan,” he breathed against her forehead.
“I know,” she whispered to his scruffy chin, trying to sound stronger than she felt. Her eyes were still closed and her heart was still breaking.
“I can’t promise I’ll be back.”
She nodded. “Yeah. I get it. I know that, too.”So, leave already. Don’t make this harder than I’ve already made it. Man, I’m so stupid.
“But I’d like to stay in touch,” he murmured, kissing her forehead again. Unexpectedly, his hot lips turned that desperate moment into a sweet and tender anointing instead of the brush-off she’d thought it was.
Her eyes flashed open. “You do? With me?” she asked that strong chin even as she tipped forward and kissed it.
Julio bowed his forehead to hers then, and she was blinking hard to maintain eye contact. The warmth in those dark chocolates reached into her Doubting Thomas soul, melting Meg’s heart.
“You really want to video chat or text or write or something? With me?” And now she was babbling.
His lips pinched for just a second, like maybe they’d forgotten how to smile. “Yes, Corporal Duncan. With you. If we both survive this day, I will be in touch.”
“But I don’t know where in the States I’ll be by then.”Or if I’ll even be in the States.How could she tell him she still lived with her parents?“And I don’t have a phone.”
Julio pulled her flush against his hard body then, her legs tucked between his knees, letting her feel his raging desire. Hip to hip and belly to belly, she breathed the life of him back into her. This was all she’d wanted, a gentle man who truly cared.
He made it better then. Cupping her jaw, his eyes wide open, he closed the distance between them and kissed her mouth. Fighting for control, she offered nothing more than the same sealed kiss he had. Only now, his tongue slid over her lips with the gentlest, silky caress.
Cinnamon. She tasted the barest hint of cinnamon. And she was on fire. When he urged her to open, she let him into her mouth and her heart, maybe even her soul. This man was thorough, his tongue sweeping over hers like he already owned her. Their lips locked as their tongues tangled.
When she arched into him, his grip on her shoulders tightened. Like the alpha male he was, Julio canted her head just enough to gain better, more thorough, access. So, so good. He seemed determined to make a meal of her, their teeth bumping, his tongue claiming every dip, fold, and taste bud. His breath became hers. His tongue, a scorching heatwave she swallowed. She moaned, thrilled Julio had finally shared a part of himself. She would’ve given him everything, right then and there.This. Just. This. I don’t need roses or diamonds, just this man. Just this moment.
“Now we’re even,” he finally whispered into her open mouth. “I shouldn’t have done that, either.”
Meg held on fast. He was breathing as hard as she was, but she hadn’t been this dizzy in years. Not since her stroke.
“But I have to go.” His tone hardened, and Julio released his grip.
Suddenly on her own again, Meg wobbled a tiny bit to the left, her weaker side. Instantly, Julio caught her elbow. Good thing. Face-planting after a kiss like that might hurt his feelings. And her nose.
“You’re dizzy. Why? What happened? Do you need to sit down?” he asked, his voice as soft as melted butter.
Some men would’ve assumed her lack of balance was due to their terrific kissing skills. Not Julio. That was authentic worry deepening his already dark chocolate eyes.
“Stroke,” she told him, melting into a puddle at his feet. Still, there was no need to skirt the obvious. He needed to know. “I’m still recovering from a minor stroke.”And that incredible kiss.
“Craig told me it was fairly recent. Why aren’t you home recovering in America instead of working here in the Highlands of Brazil?”
“Because I’m still alive, Special Agent, and because I’m better off working my ass off here with my orphans than I ever was feeling sorry for myself in Texas. That orphanage back there,” she stuck her chin at the scene over his shoulder, “I mean what’s left of it, used to care for more than thirty children before I arrived. Now we’re down to nine, all because of Oz. I have to stop him.”
“Iwill stop him,” Julio corrected. “Your job is to get your children to safety. Understood?”
Meg wanted to argue, but, deep down, she knew her paralysis made her a liability, and the last thing she wanted was to endanger Julio’s mission. “Yes, but do you understand that you’d better come back to me?”
Man, it’d be nice if he’d smiled. Maybe Meg would’ve believed him then. But all Julio offered was a non-committal nod that declared more dismissal than agreement. Then he made it worse. He dug into his pocket and handed his phone over. “Remember. Press one to connect with Senator Sullivan.”
She shook her head. “I can’t take your phone. You’ll need it.”
“But you need it more to coordinate the exfil once the Night Stalkers arrive,” he insisted, his hand outstretched.
Meg shivered. His eyes were so dark and compelling. This guy was all kinds of dark magic, and she could not keep her eyes from straying up his wrist to the bunched muscles under his shirt. From there, her gaze hopped, skipped, and jumped to his shoulder, then to his neck and chin. His mouth. Once again vertigo struck, and she was falling.
“Take it,” he ordered quietly.
Nodding because she couldn’t think straight, she complied. “I wish I could call you once you leave.”
That earned her the tiniest curl at the corners of his mouth. Until he said, “Goodbye, Corporal Duncan.”
