CATCH ME IF YOU CAN Page 8

  "I'm right, aren't I?" He swore and pulled his wallet from his jeans pocket. "Know what? I'll make it easy on you. Here." He grabbed her hand, slapping something cool and glittery into it.

  She looked down and inhaled sharply. "The necklace!"

  "That's what you wanted, right?"

  "Yes, but—"

  "Or maybe I should save my cousin by arresting you." He seized her arms and yanked her closer. "For stealing it back."

  "You're crazy."

  "The security guard from the hotel in Vegas will testify I won it. I can prove you followed me here. And there's the necklace, right in your hand."

  She shook her head. "We both know you would never do that."

  "No?" His eyes sparked with anger. With passion. It was obvious he cared about her. About what happened to her. She stared up at him, hypnotized by the emotion shining in his face, by the nearness of his body.

  "Are you sure? You think I'll choose you over my own flesh and blood? Help you send Remi to jail? Is that what you want?" he asked, his jaw clenched.

  "No." What she wanted right now had nothing to do with jail, or Remi.

  He reached behind his back. She gasped when his hand suddenly whipped down on her wrist and she felt the bite of cold steel encircling it.

  His tall frame pressed up against her, and his powerful arms surrounded her, his strong fingers grasping her wrist along with the handcuff. She could hear his staccato breaths and feel his heart pounding against her breast. He twisted her arms behind her back and snapped the second cuff over her other wrist.

  "Or is this what you want?" His accusing eyes bored into her. His body ground against hers.

  "I…" She swallowed.

  "You really want me to choose, Kit?" he demanded, giving the handcuffs a tug.

  Oh, Lord. Jagged need burst within her just before she uttered the three words she could never take back. "Kiss me, Beau."

  Beau froze where he stood. The handcuffs jangled as Kit subtly shifted her body against him. Her breasts pillowed into his chest and he could feel their hard, beaded tips even through the layers of cloth that separated them.

  Instantly he could feel himself thicken in response. He let her wrists go and grasped her hips, pulling her tight up against him. The erotic edginess of the situation left him breathless.

  He searched her eyes. "You wouldn't be teasing me, would you, darlin'?"

  She looked up and slowly shook her head, her wild iris eyes lit with the smoldering fires of longing.

  Before he had made a conscious decision, his lips were on hers. She opened for him and he swept his tongue into her mouth, taking what she offered, making his claim for more. He held her face between his hands and backed her all the way to the wall, deepening the kiss. She moaned his name, soft and low, and he reeled with the intoxication of her need.

  He slid his hands down her body, an inch at a time, learning her contours, savoring the eager little movements she made as he touched her. When he reached the hem of her dress, he dipped under it, gliding his hands around her thighs, up to her silk-clad bottom.

  Ah, perfection. Her skin felt like hot satin, her curves so soft and feminine. He throbbed with want, teetering on the edge of control. He had to see her, touch her, with no barriers between them. He broke the kiss, took a step back and started popping the long row of buttons down the front of her dress.

  "How I want you," he whispered. Buttons fell away to reveal a tantalizing wedge of bare skin. "I want you naked in my bed. To make love with you all night, and half of tomorrow."

  Her eyelids fluttered shut and she swallowed heavily. A crimson tint splashed across her heaving breasts, the same color as her kiss-stung lips. Her hair was rampant from his fingers, and when she opened her eyes again, he was nearly undone by the desire burning in them.

  "Only half?"

  "All day tomorrow, then," he murmured, slipping her dress from her shoulders. Her body shuddered when he pulled the silky garment from her breasts and replaced it with his hands. He stroked over her breasts, capturing the tips with his fingers.

  She sucked in a breath, leaning her head against the wall.

  "Ah, chère." He was in heaven, pure and simple. He relished the weight and softness resting in his palms, the texture and sweet smell of her skin. He kissed her, long and hard, and kneaded her with his fingers until she was molten and trembling and moaning in his arms.

  He had never known a woman so responsive to his touch, so guileless and free with her reactions. He loved the way she shivered and gasped at the pleasure he brought her. He loved the way her skin rippled with goose bumps, and how she made those needy little sounds in her throat. He loved her sense of humor and adventure. He loved everything about her. Dieu. He wanted her like he'd never wanted anything else in his life.

  Retrieving the key from his case, he released the handcuffs, and realized she still clutched the necklace in her balled-up fists. He coaxed the jewelry from her and went to lay it and the handcuffs on a nearby table.

  When he turned back, the sight that greeted him took his breath away. Her dress and bra lay on the floor beside her, and she had slipped out of her panties. She stood in nothing but a pair of high heels, leaning back against the wall, watching him.

  He motioned with his finger for her to come to him. "Viens ici."

  She tipped her head, but didn't move.

  "Come here."

  "Come get me."

  He didn't need to be told twice. He swept her into his arms and strode into the bedroom, making a quick detour past the desk.

  "Grab that bag, darlin'."

  He laid her on the bed and straddled her thighs, then ripped off his undershirt. Levering himself down on top of her, he watched her eyes as his chest met her breasts, skin to skin for the first time. She gazed back at him, her languid eyes imbued with the warmth of feeling and the heat of anticipation. He was filled with a totally unfamiliar emotion, a need for her so great, he nearly choked with it.

  "You are so beautiful."

  He shifted between her legs. She took his full weight and wrapped herself around him, pulling him close, whispering how much she wanted him. He ran his hands up and down her naked body, reveling in the feel of her under him at last. A spike heel scraped up the thigh of his jeans and he almost lost it.

  He grabbed her ankle, steadying his composure.

  She batted her eyelashes at him. "Does that bother you?"

  "Mais non," he assured, working his hand up her leg. "Not in the least." He reached the juncture of her thighs and stroked her gently. He kissed her, continuing to caress her more and more boldly until she started to move with him.

  Her body bowed under him when he slid a finger into her hot, moist depths. "Oh, Beau." She gasped and wound her arms tighter around his neck, pulling his mouth to hers. "Just you."

  He kissed her again. She moaned, clinging to him as her body clasped him tight. He ravished her with his tongue and teased circles around her with his thumb, coaxing her closer and closer to the edge. He wanted to watch her come apart in his arms, trembling and calling his name.

  When she did, it was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. Her head was thrown back, a look of bliss etched on her face as she floated back to earth, safe and warm under him.

  She opened her eyes and he smiled, holding his arousal in tight check. "Welcome back."

  She gave a little laugh. "I think I'm embarrassed."

  "Don't be." He feathered a kiss over her chin. "Nothing turns a man on more than seeing his woman well pleasured."

  "Then you must be incredibly turned on."

  "Oh, yeah."

  She ran her fingernails down his back and plucked at the waistband of his jeans. "How can you tell with these on?"

  He thought she'd never ask. "Guess we'd better check, hmm?" It took him about two nanoseconds to slide off the bed and shuck his shoes, socks and jeans, while she flung aside her heels. After shedding his briefs, he looked up and couldn't help but grin immodestly. Wide-eyed, he
r awestruck gaze was fixed on his arousal. Swiping up the bag that had ended up on the floor earlier, he crawled back on the bed and knelt between her legs.

  She came out of her trance. Sitting up, she took his face in her hands and kissed him. "You're incredible."

  She ran her hands down over his chest, tangling her fingers in his chest hair, scraping his flat nipples with her fingernails. It was all he could do not to push her onto her back and plunge into her. He was wound tight, and her every caress was sweet torture.

  She eased the box from the bag in his fist, and he heard the rustle of foil. In the next second his world exploded in sinful sensation. He groaned out loud. She was using her tongue to slowly unroll the latex over him.

  Have mercy.

  He drank in the sight of her.

  She knelt there, all sleepy-eyed, smiling up at him. Her breasts were round and pretty, her trim waist flared into lush hips. And she was all his. He wanted to tuck her under him and never let her go. She was everything he'd ever wanted and more, rolled into one wonderful woman. And she wanted him, too. How had he gotten so lucky?

  He opened his arms to her. "Come to me, 'tite chatte, my kitten. Let me make love to you."

  She came into his arms, all warm and willing flesh, pale as moonlight and hot as sin. He rolled her under him and entered her in one motion. Ah, si bon. So good.

  For a moment they lay still, adjusting, absorbing, feeling. She was exquisitely perfect. They fit together like two halves of an ancient puzzle coming together after centuries apart. Mysterious, unfamiliar, yet so very, very right.

  He gathered her close and kissed her tenderly, lovingly, showing her how much it meant to him to be invited to share her body. Next time, he would pull out all the stops, dazzle her with his creative technique, slowly reduce her to a quivering mass of satiety, but this time, this first time, he wanted simply to treasure her with his body, as he'd grown to in his heart.

  Tonight she'd been irresistible, irrepressible, funny and flattering to his ego. But he saw beneath the coquettish facade to the vulnerable woman she wanted to pretend didn't exist. He'd seen the flash of fear in her eyes just before they came together, as if she knew their lovemaking would eventually bring her as much heartache as it would pleasure. He was grateful and humbled that she deemed him to be worth the pain she was sure would follow. And determined to prove her fears wrong.

  "I won't ever hurt you. I swear," he vowed softly, placing gentle kisses on her eyes. When they opened, they were shiny with tears. A wave of incredible protectiveness washed through him.

  "Make love to me, Beau," she whispered. "Make me forget about everything but you and me and the way we feel together."

  She cradled him close and he started moving inside her. He had never felt anything so unbelievably good. She was like a glove of fire to his ice-bound soul.

  "Hold me tight, kitten. As tight as you can."

  Her arms tightened about his neck and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He stroked in a little farther and thought he would die from the pleasure. He told her so. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and he could feel her lips on his skin.

  He lifted her face and sprinkled it with kisses and licks, all the while touching, caressing, squeezing. In a mindless patois of English and the French of his ancestors, he whispered how good she felt, how hot she made him. She cleaved to him and he loved it when her body urged him to pump faster and faster.

  Her throaty moans filled his head, taking him higher and higher. She turned to wildfire under him, meeting his thrusts, tugging his hair, marking him with her nails. He felt alive and wanted, for the first time in his life, just for himself.

  Just for himself.

  Biting back the need to reach his release, he held her close and talked her right up to the brink. When he felt her begin to quiver, he slid his hands under her bottom.

  "Tell me you won't leave, ma chère," he softly urged, stroking hard and deep. "Swear you'll stay with me."

  "Yes," she panted, the tremors coming faster. "I'll stay."

  His body erupted in a thousand brilliant pleasures as her climax crashed over her, and she clung desperately to him.

  For one crazy moment he forgot Terrebeau, Remi, sapphires and family. All he thought about was how he never wanted to let this woman go. He embraced her, hugging her to him as they both shattered. Waves of dazzling sensation pulsated around and through him. After an eternity of bliss, he felt her give a last shudder and then they were still.

  For a long time they lay silently clinging to each other, savoring the intimacy they shared. He kissed her hair, her temples, loathing when he finally had to separate them.

  "Oh, darlin'. It has never, ever been like that before."

  When he turned back to her, she snuggled against him. "For me, either. You truly are incredible."

  "No, we are incredible, together."

  She smiled and offered him her lips. What else could he do but take what she offered? Tomorrow he'd have to figure out what all this meant—and try to talk her out of her obsession to have his cousin arrested. But for now he accepted her gift and lay back as her lips and body melted into his. His sigh of contentment was tinged with a longing for what he knew could never be.

  But a man could dream, couldn't he?

  * * *

  Chapter 6

  « ^ »

  Kit didn't know when she stopped dreaming and when she actually woke up, but she figured she must have died and gone to heaven sometime during the night. Except she was pretty sure those were lips and not angel wings fluttering over her back.

  "Mornin', 'tite chatte."

  "Morning, angel."

  There was a soft chuckle behind her. "Angel?"

  "Mmm." She purred contentedly. "Seems I woke up in heaven."

  She felt Beau's knee slip between her thighs and part them. With no more preamble than that, he slid into her, lacing his fingers through hers and kissing the back of her neck. "Still in heaven?"

  "Utterly." She pulled his hand to her lips and kissed it. "Blissfully. Wonderfully."

  As Beau made lazy, delicious morning love to her, she remembered all they had done last night. He was an incredibly generous, sensitive lover. Creative and inexhaustible. They had tumbled and tangled for hours and hours, slept, then woken up to join together just for the pure joy of touching each other.

  "I love waking up with you," he murmured.

  She sighed in pleasure. She loved waking up with him, too. This was probably the one thing she missed most in her solitary life-style. The thing that was hardest to give up by not allowing herself to become involved. The thing that would hurt like hell when she walked away from Beau.

  "Turn over for me, darlin'."

  He lifted himself and then slipped back into her when she had shifted around. He moved sinuously against her, holding her with such heartbreaking tenderness, she almost wept. He took his time, building to a warm, easy crest for them both.

  When it was over, she held him in her arms, fighting back tears. These had been the best hours of her life, unlike anything she'd ever experienced. He'd been so loving, so giving. Together they had tapped emotions she hadn't realized she possessed. Reached heights she had no idea existed. Beau hadn't had sex with her, he had made love to her. No one had ever done that before.

  How could she ever leave him?

  She knew if she spent one more hour in bed with him, or even in the same room with him, she'd be completely lost. She was hopelessly captivated by the man, and if she didn't get away from him soon, she was afraid she wouldn't be able to do it at all.

  And she had to go. She had to.

  Waking up with him felt glorious. But how long would that feeling last? A week? A month? Maybe two? And then the demands would start. Move in with me. Quit your job. Live my life. Give up your dreams. That was what she could expect with a rich, high-powered man like Beau.

  And if she refused? He would find a way to force her to his will, betraying her love, dismissing
everything she'd already given up for him. Like Michael had done.

  She had only asked that she be allowed to follow her own dreams. But Michael had been furious with her choice. Even when she'd found out about his shocking betrayal, he still expected her to bend to his will. Well, she'd refused. And from that moment on, she had vowed love would not play a role in her life. Could not. And if she was ever attracted to another strong, powerful man—any man—she would run like hell in the other direction.

  No, she couldn't lose her heart to Beau. It would be disaster all around. She had to get out of that bed, pick up her suitcase and walk out the door.

  "You okay, chère?" Beau tilted her chin up and looked into her eyes. "You're being awful quiet. No regrets, now."

  She gave him a tremulous smile. "No. Never. Whatever happens—" she kissed him gently "—I'll never regret last night." Taking a deep breath, she eased out of his arms and slid her legs over the side of the bed.

  He rose and walked over to the dresser. "That sounds ominously final," he said, rounding the bed to halt in front of her. He nudged a black silk pajama top into her hands. "I hope you're not thinking of leaving."

  She shrugged as casually as she could manage. "'Fraid so. It's been fun, sugar, but—"

  "Don't." His voice was edged in brittle steel. He grabbed her and lifted her to her feet. "Don't belittle what happened in that bed. Don't even try and say it meant nothing to you."

  She reached deep and summoned all the strength she had in order to say what had to be said. "Beau, what we shared was terrific. More than terrific. It was wonderful—every minute of it. I will always cherish what we had together."

  "But…?"

  "I can't stay."

  "I won't accept that. You swore to me you would stay. I want more than one night with you."

  "That's not possible," she shot back. "I have my job in the city and you have yours in Terrebeau. Or are you willing to move to New Orleans to be with me? Give up your life to share mine?"

  She could see in his expression she had hit her mark.

  "I didn't think so." She opened her fist, lashing out. "Lord, Beau! What did you have in mind? Make me quit my job and tuck me away in some cabin somewhere on the bayou, your own private little love toy?"