Diana Palmer Collected 1-6: Soldier of Fortune / Tender Stranger / Enamored / Mystery Man / Rawhide and Lace / Unlikely Lover. Diana Palmer
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she asked softly. “If you can tell me, I mean. I don’t want to invade anyone’s privacy.”
“Well, Shirt was in the Special Forces, like I was,” J.D. said, pausing over the sentence, as if he was choosing his words carefully. “After he got out of the service, he couldn’t find anything he liked to do except police work, and he wasn’t making enough to pay the bills. He had a contact in the mercenary network and he asked some questions. He was good with the standard underworld weapons and something of a small-arms expert. He found work.”
“And Apollo?”
“Apollo started out as an M.P. He was accused of a crime he didn’t commit, and there were some racial overtones.” J.D. shrugged. “He wasn’t getting any justice, so he ran for it and wound up in Central America. He’s been down here ever since.”
“He can’t clear himself?” she asked.
“I expect I’ll end up defending him one of these days,” he told her with a quiet smile. “In fact, I can almost guarantee it. I’ll win, too.”
“I wouldn’t doubt that,” she murmured, tongue in cheek.
“How long have you worked with this bad-tempered one, Señorita Gabby?” Laremos asked.
“A little over two years,” she told him, glancing at J.D. “It’s been an education. I’ve learned that if you shout loudly enough, you can get most anything you want.”
“He shouts at you?”
“I wouldn’t dare,” J.D. murmured with a grin. “The first time I tried, she heaved a paperweight at my head.”
“I did not,” she protested. “I threw it at your door!”
“Which I opened at the wrong time,” he continued. “Fortunately, I have good reflexes.”
“You will need them tomorrow, I fear,” Laremos told him. “The terrorists will not make things easy for us.”
“True,” J.D. said as he finished his coffee. “But we have the element of surprise on our side.”
“That is so.”
“And now, we’d better go over the maps again. I want to be sure I know the terrain before we set out in the morning.”
Gabby went on to bed, feeling definitely in the way. She took a quick bath and settled in on one side of the big double bed, wearing the long, very modest nightgown she’d brought along. Unfortunately, the material was thin, but perhaps J.D. would be too busy with his thoughts to notice.
She lay there trying to stumble through a Guatemalan newspaper, but she couldn’t concentrate. She tingled all over, thinking of the long night ahead, of spending it lying in J.D.’s arms. Had he really meant that? Or had it just been something to tease her with? And what if he did hold her in his arms all night—would she be able to resist tempting him beyond his control?
She tossed the newspaper onto the floor and wrapped her arms around her knees, staring apprehensively at the door. Her long hair hung softly around her shoulders, and she brushed strands of it away from her face. She wanted him. There was no use denying that she did. But if she gave in, if she tempted him too far, what would she have? One single night to remember, and it would be the end of her job. J.D. didn’t want any kind of permanent relationship with a woman, and she’d do well to keep her head. He was worried about his sister, justifiably nervous about tomorrow’s foray into the jungle, and he might do something insane if she pushed him.
But for just a moment she thought how it would be, to feel his hair-roughened skin against every inch of her, to let him touch her as he’d no doubt touched other women. She sighed huskily. He’d be gentle, she knew that, and patient. He’d make of it such a tender initiation that it would surpass her wildest dreams of belonging to a man. But it would cheapen what she was beginning to feel for him, and it would do no good for his opinion of her. She attracted him because she was a virgin, untouched. And if she gave herself to him, she wouldn’t be that anymore. It was even possible that he’d hold her in contempt for joining the ranks of his lovers.
With a weary moan, she turned out the light and burrowed under the covers. It was a lovely dream, anyway, she told herself, and closed her eyes.
She hadn’t meant to go to sleep so soon, but the first thing she knew the dawn light was streaming in through the windows, bringing her wide awake.
Sleepily she stretched, and became suddenly aware of where she was. She sat up, eyes wide, and looked around for J.D. It took only a second to find him. He was standing at the window, his profile to her, looking out. And he didn’t have a stitch of clothing on his body.
Her eyes were riveted on him. She’d seen men without clothes. These days, with all the explicit films, it was impossible to avoid nudity. But she’d never seen a nude man close up, like this. And she imagined that J.D. would please even the eyes of an experienced woman.
He was all powerful muscle, with dark shadows of hair feathering every inch of him. His legs were long and muscular, his hips narrow, his stomach flat. His chest was broad and bronzed and a wedge of thick black hair curled over it. She stared at him helplessly, unashamedly—until she happened to look up and saw him watching her.
Her lips trembled as she tried to speak, but she couldn’t get anything out.
“It’s all right,” he said quietly. “If I’d found you in the same condition, I’d be staring just as hard. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.
“I don’t wear pajamas,” he murmured with an amused look. “I expected to be awake before you were. It was a hot night.”
“Yes,” she managed, choking.
He moved back toward the bed, and she sat there frozen, unable to make even the pretense of looking the other way. It didn’t seem to bother him at all. He bent down, catching her by the arms, and dragged her out of the bed and against his body.
He laughed deep in his throat, the sound of it predatory, primitive. “Touch me,” he dared her. His hands caught hers and ran them over his sleek hips, up his spine, and around to the matted tangle of hair over his warm chest.
Her breath was trapped somewhere beneath her ribs, and her fingers burrowed into the crisp hair over his heart.
“Yes, you like it, don’t you?” he asked in a voice like rough velvet, his eyes narrow and black and hot on her face. “But not half as much as I do. I’ve dreamed about this, night after endless night, about how your hands would feel touching me. What do I look like to those innocent eyes, Gabby? Do I frighten you…please you? Which?”
She was drunk with the feel of him, the smell of him. Her hands roamed over his chest, his rib cage. With a long sigh she leaned her forehead on his collarbone. “You please me,” she whispered. “Can’t you tell? Oh, Jacob…!” Her hands pressed harder, more urgently. “Jacob, I want to do such shameless things.”
“Such as?” he asked in a whisper. “Such as, Gabby?” He covered her hands with his own and she felt their faint tremor. “I won’t hurt you. Do whatever you want to do.”
It wasn’t fair that he should have such power over her, she thought dazedly. She was too intoxicated, too hungry, to listen to the cool voice of reason. Her hands smoothed over his chest, around his back, and with an instinct she didn’t even know she had, her mouth opened and pressed against the center of his chest.
He groaned harshly, shocking her. She lifted wide, curious eyes to his.
“I like it,” he whispered huskily. “Do it again.”
She moved closer, and his hands caught her head, guiding her mouth to the places he wanted it, while the silence lengthened and grew around them and J.D.’s breath came raggedly and in gasps. She learned so much about him all at once. That she drove him wild when she rubbed her cheek across his taut nipples, that he liked the curl of her tongue around the tangled hair. That she could nip him gently