Hotter Than Wildfire by Lisa Marie Rice Page B

to find out. Eyes fixed on the dark cloud of soft hair between her thighs, Sam cupped her, right there where he wanted to be. Waggling his hand made her open her thighs to him and his hand slid in to cover her completely. The lips of her sex felt puffy, slick…
    “Sam!”
    He inserted a long finger and yes—thank you God—she was wet. Excited. Not as excited as he was, but then that was impossible.
    He shifted forward, inserting his thigh between hers, opening her up.
    “Oh, for—” Nicole slapped his hand away and clamped her thighs shut. “Will you listen to me?”
    Startled, Sam’s head lifted and he saw with consternation that she was looking exasperated. At him. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen that look on her gorgeous face. What had he done now?
    “Yeah, honey?” He smiled down at his wife. “What is it?”
    “For the third time, are we safe here? Is Eve safe?”
    Sex was instantly booted out of Sam’s mind. He smoothed back a lock of blue-black hair, tucking it behind her ear. He looked his wife straight in the eyes and spoke soberly.
    “Oh, yeah. Mike cleared her room. He said that he left absolutely nothing of hers behind that could in any way identify her. You trust Mike, right?”
    “Yes,” Nicole said softly. “Absolutely.”
    His heart gave one of those hard little pumps it sometimes did when he realized all over again how lucky he was. He’d have married Nicole even if she didn’t get on with his brothers, but the fact was, they loved her almost as much as he did. Lucky, lucky man.
    “We’ve gone over this, Harry and Mike and I, and we can’t find a way that Montez can connect her to us. So she can recover here and we can set her up in a new life when she’s ready.”
    Nicole gave one of her mysterious smiles.
    Sam frowned. “What?”
    She shook her head, the scent of her shampoo whooshing out from her and messing with his head.
    “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. So—it’s okay, then?”
    “Absolutely.” Sam picked up her hand and brought it to his mouth, utterly sober and serious. “I would never—and trust me when I say never—let you be near any possible danger to you and our child. You have to believe me.”
    “Oh!” Nicole looked startled. “I believe you, of course I do.”
    “Good.” Blood was rushing out of his head, down, down…Sam bent and ran his mouth along her neck, and gave her a little nip. She loved that. It turned her on. He knew that through long practice. Nicole shivered and at that moment he lifted her leg and gently slid his cock into her. “Now.” He pulled slowly out, then pressed back in. “Where were we?”
    Prineville, Georgia
Bearclaw Headquarters
      “I’m sorry, sir,” the snooty political aide said on the phone. “But Senator Manson is unavailable at the moment.”
    Montez gritted his teeth, pulled the handset away so the bitch wouldn’t hear him blowing his breath out in one controlled flow. Control. He needed to keep control.
    “All right,” he said, when his voice was steady. “When will the senator be available for an appointment?”
    Never, you moron.
    The unsaid words hung there, quivering.
    Montez remembered this assistant to the chairman of the Senate Armed Services Committee, a tall, bony creature with two PhDs, one in political science and one in physics. Ferociously ambitious, biding her time on a senator’s staff before she joined some hotshot think tank for ten times the salary.
    She’d disliked Montez on sight, and it had been mutual.
    “I think I can safely speak for the senator here,” she said finally. “There has been some…adverse publicity lately with regard to your personnel. This is not a good time for the senator to be linking his name to yours. At least until all the ambiguities have been cleared up. Good day.”
    A click.
    She’d hung up on him. Montez stared at the dead handset. The bitch had hung up on him .
    He knew exactly what she was referring to. The media storm surrounding the shooting