Alpha Squad. Suzanne Brockmann
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Instead, he made himself slow down.
Gently, so gently, he ran his tongue across her lips, slowly gaining passage to the softness of her mouth. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to move still more slowly, even slower now. She tasted of strawberries and coffee—an enticing combination of flavors. He caressed her tongue with his own and when she responded, when she opened her mouth to him, granting him access and deepening their kiss, he felt dizzy with pleasure.
This was, absolutely, the sweetest kiss he’d ever shared.
Slowly, still slowly, he explored the warmth of her mouth, the softness of her lips. He touched only her mouth with his, and the side of her face with the tips of his fingers. She wasn’t locked in his arms, their bodies weren’t pressed tightly together. Still, with this gentle, purest of kisses, she had the power to make his blood surge through his veins, to make his heart pound in a wild, frantic rhythm.
He wanted her desperately. His body was straining to become joined with hers. And yet…
This kiss was enough. It was exhilarating, and it made him feel incredibly happy. Happy in a way he’d never been even while making love to the other women he’d had relationships with—women he’d been attracted to and slept with, but hadn’t particularly cared for.
He felt a tightness in his chest, a weight of emotion he’d never felt before as, beneath his fingers, Veronica trembled.
He pulled back then, and she looked away, unable to meet his eyes.
“Well,” she said. “My word.”
“Yeah,” Joe agreed. He hadn’t intended to whisper, but he couldn’t seem to speak any louder.
“That was…unexpected.”
He couldn’t entirely agree. He’d been expecting to kiss her ever since their eyes first met and the raw attraction sparked between them. What was unexpected was this odd sense of caring, this emotional noose that had somehow curled itself around his chest. It was faintly uncomfortable, and it hadn’t disappeared even when he’d ended their kiss.
She glanced at him. “Maybe we should get back to work.”
Joe shook his head. “No,” he said. “I need a break, and you do, too.” He stood, holding out his hand to her. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your room. You can take a nap. I’ll meet you back here in a few hours.”
Veronica didn’t take his hand. She simply gazed up at him.
“Come on,” he said again. “Cut yourself some slack.”
But she shook her head. “There’s no time.”
He gently touched her hair. “Yes, there is. There’s definitely time for an hour of shut-eye,” he said. “Trust me, Ronnie, you’re gonna need it to concentrate.”
Joe could see indecision on her face. “How about forty minutes?” he added. “Forty winks. You can crash right here on the couch. I’ll order some coffee and wake you up at—” he glanced at his watch “—oh-six-twenty.”
Slowly she nodded. “All right.”
He bent down and briefly brushed her lips with his. “Sleep tight,” he said.
She stopped him, touching the side of his face. “You’re so sweet,” she said, surprise in her voice.
He had to laugh. He’d been called a lot of things in his life, and “sweet” wasn’t one of them. “Oh, no, I’m not.”
Veronica’s lips curved into a smile. “I didn’t mean that to be an insult.” Her smile faded and she looked away, suddenly awkward. “Joe, I have to be honest with you,” she said quietly. “I think that kiss…was a mistake. I’m so tired, and I wasn’t thinking clearly and, well, I hope you don’t think that I…Well, right now it’s not…We’re not…It’s a mistake. Don’t you think?”
Joe straightened. The noose around his chest was so damn tight he could hardly breathe. A mistake. Veronica thought kissing him had been a mistake. He shook his head slowly, hiding his disappointment behind a tight smile. “No, and I’m sorry you think that,” he replied. “I thought maybe we had something there.”
“Something?” Veronica echoed, glancing up at him.
This time it was Joe who looked away. He sat down next to her on the couch, suddenly tired. How could he explain what he meant, when he didn’t even know himself? Damn, he’d already said too much. What if she thought by “something” he meant he was falling in love with her?
He pushed his hair back with one hand and glanced at Veronica.
Yeah, she wanted him to fall in love with her about as much as she wanted a hole in the head. In the space of a heartbeat, he could picture her dismay, picture her imagining the restraining order she’d have to get to keep him away from her. He was rough and uncultured, blue-collar through and through. She hung out with royalty. It would be embarrassing and inconvenient for her to have some crazy, rough-edged, lovesick sailor following her around.
Gazing into her eyes, he could see her trepidation.
So he gave her a cocky smile and prayed that she couldn’t somehow sense the tightness in his chest. “I thought we had something great between us,” he said, leaning forward and putting his hand on her thigh.
Veronica moved back on the couch, away from him. His hand fell aside.
“Ah, yes,” she said. “Sex. Exactly what I thought you meant.”
Joe stood. “Too bad.”
She glanced at him but didn’t meet his gaze for more than a fraction of a second. “Yes, it is.”
He turned away, heading for the bedroom and his bed. Maybe some sleep would make this pressure in his chest lighten up or—please, God—even make it go away.
“Please, don’t forget to wake me,” Veronica called.
“Right,” he said shortly and closed the door behind him.
The knock on the door came quickly, no less than five minutes after Joe had called room service for coffee. Man, he thought, people really hopped to it when they thought a guy had blue blood.
West and the other FInCOM agent, Freeman, both drew their guns, motioning for Joe to move away from the door. It was an odd sensation. He was the one who usually did the protecting.
The door opened, and it was the room-service waiter. West and Freeman handed Joe two steaming mugs of fragrant coffee. Joe carried them to the coffee table and set them down.
Veronica was still asleep. She’d slid down on the couch so that her head was resting on the seat cushion. She clutched a legal pad to her chest.
She looked incredibly beautiful. Her skin was so smooth and soft looking, it was all he could do not to reach out with one knuckle to touch her cheek.
Veronica St. John.
Who would have guessed he would have a thing for a prim-and-proper society girl named Veronica St. John? “Sinjin,” for Pete’s sake.
But she wasn’t interested in him. That incredible, perfect kiss they’d shared had been “a mistake.”
Like hell it had.
Joe had had to force himself to fall asleep. Only his extensive training had kept him from lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling and expending his energy by playing their kiss over and over and over again in his mind. He’d spent enough time doing that while he was in the shower, after he woke up. Each time he played that kiss over in his head, he tried to figure out what he’d done wrong, and each time, he came up blank. Finally he’d had to admit it—he’d done nothing wrong. That kiss had been perfect, not a mistake.
Now all he had to do was convince Veronica of that fact.
Yeah, right. She was stubborn as hell. He’d have