She arched up into him, shuddering uncontrollably as his blazing mouth closed on her. He worked his way back up her body, incinerating everything that was left of her. Only then did he plunge into the very core of her, groaning his pleasure.
Their twin suns went supernova then, combusting so bright and hot that the explosion defied comprehension. They rode the incendiary wave, blasting outward from their cores on a solar storm that reached far out into the cosmos, finally flinging them into a void so silent and peaceful, Emily wasn’t sure she was still alive.
“You’ve killed me,” Jagger breathed.
She managed to gather enough breath to laugh. “I was thinking the very same thing.”
“Well, then, I think we’ve established that you are no innocent, Ms. Grainger.”
“Just call me Danger Girl.”
“Right. And a more apt name there never was. You are more than dangerous, my dear. You’re lethal.”
“I hope you mean that in a good way,” she chuckled.
“Indubitably.”
“Thanks, Double-O-Seven.”
His answering smile was serene. Contented. “You’re welcome. And thank you.”
He pulled her across his chest, draping her over his body until they were joined practically as one. His heart still pounded like a jackhammer beneath her ear, belying his outward calm. Had she done that to him? Cool.
She smiled in utter contentment of her own. How had she ever lived without him in her life? This was more than love at first sight. Was there such a thing as soul mates at first sight?
No doubt about it. She’d break out of whatever shell she must to keep this man. She’d move heaven and earth to be with him.
His lips moved in her hair. “You probably won’t believe me, but this sort of thing doesn’t happen to me often.”
Her answer was prompt. “You’re right. I don’t believe you.”
He laughed. “I’m serious.”
She made a colossal effort and lifted her head enough to gaze at him. “You’re telling me a man like you can’t have any woman he wants anytime?”
He laughed. “I don’t want any woman anytime. I have my standards, you know.” He pressed a finger against her mouth as if he knew she’d ask how in the world she possibly met his standards. “But you … you’re incredible, Emily. I think you’ve ruined me for any other woman.”
She laughed. “Now I know you’re lying. But thanks. That’s sweet of—”
His mouth swooped down on hers, and he kissed her with such passion she completely lost the rest of the thought. When she was breathless and clinging to him in panting need, he whispered, “I mean it. You … you’re … magic.”
She knew the feeling exactly.
He continued, murmuring contemplatively, “Would you think I was weird if I said I feel like I’ve been looking for you for a very long time?”
“Not if you promise not to think I’m weird for thinking the very same thing.”
Their laughter mingled as they stared out into the cold night outside the windows. She couldn’t imagine anything more perfect than being here with him, right now, in the relaxed afterglow of their lovemaking. She couldn’t ever recall being more warm and content than she was in this exact second. The peace of it reached deep into her soul. She would never forget this moment as long as she lived. It was perfect. Exactly, totally perfect.
Would he disappear come tomorrow, like James Bond? Would he give her time to become Danger Girl in truth? She doubted most people got even one moment of happiness this pure in their lives, let alone a lifetime of it. Was she greedy to want more? Not that it mattered. She already knew she wouldn’t be able stop herself from trying to hold on to him for as long as she could.
The next time they made love it was slow and lazy, filled with long kisses and intimate whispers. She savored every second of it, doing her darnedest to make a lasting memory of every millisecond. To wrap each piece of it carefully in her mind and pack it away in her heart’s treasure chest. It reminded her of what a honeymoon must feel like. Or a wedding night.
The thought gave her a jolt, and Jagger whispered against her collarbone, “What?”
“Mmm, nothing. Just random delicious thoughts.”
She felt his lips curve into a smile on her skin. He murmured, “You’re delicious. Entirely edible.”
She chuckled. “I thought we’d already established that.”
“Yes, but,” he disagreed, “we haven’t yet established how you taste with chocolate fondue.”
Her gaze snapped over to the fondue pot still warming on the table. “Oh, my.”
In the wee hours of the morning, as she lay limp and utterly sated, she curled into the circle of his arms and knew, without a shadow of a doubt, this was the one place in the entire world she’d most like to be. Forever.
She was home. Danger Girl had found The One.
And with that thought in mind, she finally drifted off to sleep, dreaming of naughty red shoes and chocolate.
Jagger woke up feeling more refreshed in body, mind and soul than he had in years. And the cause of it was buried beneath a pile of blankets with little but her nose sticking out from under the covers. And what a lovely nose it was. He smiled indulgently. Emily might run cold when she was asleep, but she’d been plenty hot enough last night to burn him alive.
To hell with caution. So what if she was a forever girl and he was a one-night guy? She’d become his AbaCo informant and they’d work together for a good long time. Long enough to work this fever for her out of his blood and get back to being the one-night guy his work—his life—demanded of him.
He spied an empty champagne bottle on the coffee table. He hoped she didn’t feel the aftereffects of the bubbly too bad this morning. But just in case, he ought to order up a pot of coffee. Except he didn’t have the heart to wake her just yet. It had been a very long night, and she deserved to sleep in nice and late.
Still, he could use some caffeine. He slipped out of bed quietly, pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt and grabbed his ski jacket. He’d just run down to the corner and get them some fresh lattes and muffins. He’d be back long before she stirred, let alone woke up.
The temperature had dropped below zero overnight, and this first day of the new year nipped at his cheeks and forehead with sharp teeth. The streets weren’t exactly deserted this Sunday morning, but they weren’t far from it. He jammed his hands in his pockets, hunched his collar up around his ears and set out for the coffee shop a block from the hotel.
He’d bet she liked her coffee turned into virtual ice cream with cream and sugar. He’d buy her one of every flavor of muffin, too—
Something stung him sharply in the neck, as painfully as a wasp. Oww!
He reached up reflexively to slap at the spot, and he lurched as someone grabbed him from behind. He reacted fast and hard, slamming his elbow into his assailant and whipping around to bring his feet to bear in the fight as his years of martial arts training kicked in. But his elbow blow was blunted by his attacker’s thickly padded jacket, and whatever had been in the needle in his neck was damned fast acting. The street blurred and swam woozily before his eyes. Crap. I’m in deep trouble here.
Something huge and dark screeched to a halt at his side and three more men leaped out of the van to surround him. It was no contest. His legs were already collapsing out from underneath him. Frantically, he looked around for help. Even a simple witness to report his capture to the police. But the attack had been