Page 57 of Vaquero
He caught himself before that desire took hold and ruled him. This wasn’t the right time to become intimately acquainted. Definitely not the right place. Team members were still in danger, and duty always came first.
Not waiting for her answer to his leading question, Julio broke the tender connection before he made a bigger fool of himself. Lifting the binocs to his eyes, he tracked Hotrod’s steady progress to the edge of the gravel pit. Still a burning conflagration, Julio couldn’t see Charlie or Doctor Hazelton through the smoke until they were nearly at the top.
Once there, Charlie said something to Hazelton. She nodded, and they removed their headcovers. He set the large metal case he’d carried on the ground at her feet, then he and Hotrod took a side trip into the trees, through the wreckage of the usurper’s army.
The stink of the battleground carried across the pit to Julio. Burning diesel. Melted human flesh. Other unpleasant smells. Two shots rang out, then two more. Julio recognized them for what they were. Double-taps. Charlie and Hotrod were finishing the job, ending surviving belligerents before they ended them or called reinforcements.
Julio lowered the binocs and rolled his shoulder, more to ease the tension radiating up his back than because of his wounds. They needed to be tended to soon, but for now, he was mobile and he had Meg. Everything else could wait.
“What are you doing?” Meg asked. Still cradled in that same arm, she looked up at him with so much trust.
It was hard to answer. “Making sure Charlie and Hotrod are safe,” he said, his voice hoarse.
“You’re always doing that, aren’t you? Always watching over people. Protecting others.”
He exhaled through his nostrils and swallowed hard, fighting his body’s response to her nearness. “It’s what I do.”
“You have a gift, Julio,” she corrected softly. “You care about everyone. Even little kids.”
Well, yeah. Especially little kids. Old people. Sick people. Dogs. Cats.Madre de Dios.Even that red bird with a broken wing he’d found one wintry day when he’d been back East. He’d nursed that little guy for weeks until it grew strong enough. Then, one warm spring morning, he’d set it free. The delicate splash of color flew away without a single chirp of thanks. And that was okay. The joy was in knowing that scarlet creature had lived despite his fumbling fat fingers. The cardinal was still warbling its life away out there in the wild. It might be just another bird to most people, but to him it had been a miracle.
Now wanting to encourage this intimate conversation, Julio went back to the binocs, watching Charlie, Hotrod, and Hazelton. His rifle sat loose and ready in the crook of the tree, in case his friends needed an assist.
The men were out of the trees and talking with Hazelton now. Leaning over, Charlie lifted the metal case and handed it to Hotrod. Must be the isotopes. Without a headset or commlink, Julio had no way to know for certain what it was or what was being said.
The meeting looked amicable enough. Hotrod nodded his chin toward the tree where Julio still held Meg. Charlie’s shoulders turned until he faced them. The big guy waved, then cupped both hands to his mouth and yelled, but he was too far away. Julio couldn’t understand what he’d said. He was too focused on the feminine weight relaxed against him. His time was running out. It was now or never.
He set the binocs on Meg’s lap. “Meg, I—”
As usual, she was one step ahead of him. The second he gazed down and into her eyes, she cupped his grimy chin in both hands and ordered, “Kiss me, Julio. Before they get back. Just do it, damn it.”
Another smile almost curled his lips. They seemed to be doing that more and more. With her permission, he tipped forward and took her mouth in what started gently, but ended in fiery, pulsing need. Her lips were so soft and delectably smooth and silky. Like cream. He couldn’t help himself. He’d been hungry so long.
This woman was a different sort of female than the one he’d married. Strong and sure of herself, Meg took control of the kiss instead of lying limp in his arms. Twisting her body until they were chest to chest, she wrapped her fingers around his skull and pulled him deeper into her warm, wet mouth.
At the seductive slide and taste of her tongue, out of control passion spiked. A raging firestorm lit up his veins. Julio’s spine stiffened, and suddenly, there wasn’t enough oxygen in the world. What he needed to live and to be a complete man again was right here, lying in his arms. Meg was his next breath. The rest of his life. Maybe even all of his heart. He couldn’t lose her, not this time. He needed this woman, in his future and in his bed.
Julio knew it then. He was not the man he’d been before. The shadows were no longer good enough. The curse of the long dark night he’d been trapped in had been broken, and Meg was the one who’d lifted that evil spell. He’d been a fool to walk into the Pacific.
Drawing in a belly full of air, Julio wanted more out of whatever time on earth he had left. He wanted that intangiblemorewith Meg. Now, damn it.
Her mouth was so willing, her lips beyond sweet and intrinsically satisfying. When she moaned into his mouth, he angled his injured arm beneath her neck, lifting her against him. Breathing her in. Holding her closer. Molding her warm, willing body to his. What he wanted was close, intimate, sweaty contact. He craved it like a man lost in the desert craved water. Had to have it.
But for now... The torn flesh and muscle in his bicep reminded him he’d better not expect too much, too soon. But she’d acquiesced so willingly, arching into him and moaning into his mouth. Against his tongue. How could he resist?
Julio was lost in a firestorm of sensual sensation, each whimper and moan more tantalizing than the last. It was enough to distract the strongest man. But old habits died hard, and he refused to relinquish all control. As difficult as it was, he owed Charlie Brown, Doctor Hazelton, and Hotrod due diligence. He was their eyes in the sky. He had their six. He couldn’t fail them any more than he could fail Meg.
Tearing his mouth away from the lovely temptation in his arms, he breathed heavily into Meg’s face. “Please understand. I can’t do this. It’s not right. I must finish my job.”
“I know, I know,” she murmured sweetly, the green stars in her eyes bright and warm. Willing. “We both have jobs to do, but the first chance I get…” Lifting up, she melted her mouth to his, and Julio was lost once more. He couldn’t stop kissing this woman. She was oxygen. His breath. His life.
Abruptly, she tore herself away, gasped, then growled a breathy, “We have got to quit this. Now. Before Charlie and Hotrod show up. Do you have any idea what they’ll say if they see us kissing?”
Julio cupped her jaw and bumped his forehead to hers. He most certainly knew how men talked. “They’ll say I’m a very lucky man. But the first chance you get—”
“I’m going to mug the hell out of you, Juarez. Count on it.” She grinned, the sparkle in her eyes so full of wonder and real, no-kidding zest for life.
His facial muscles did that painfully, pleasant thing again. He could feel it. On his lips and cheeks. Even at the corners of his eyes. Inside his eyes. It came like a soft wave from deep inside his heart. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done this, but he was actually smiling. All because Meg had made everything wrong in his life, right again. Just seeing her made life worth living. Despite her handicap, genuine hope sparkled in her smile. It was in her eyes, too, themselves the color of life and living and, damn it. He was still here, wasn’t he? He was alive. Yes, he’d lost the people he’d loved most, but his heart still pounded, his blood still heated, and his lungs still worked. He could breathe!
