Page 11 of Hidden Agendas


  Or the sheer insanity of blowing his own head off. It was only after hearing the phone sing out its distinctive song that he had realized he hadn’t sheathed his raging hard-on in a condom.

  Dumb. Stupid. And here he had assured her that he knew how to protect himself, if not her.

  But it was also the most pleasure he swore he had ever known.

  He should have been shaking in his boots at the thought of taking a virgin. Especially a virgin whose father was actively seeking a particular brand of husband for her. A virgin who eroded his common sense and self-preservation. The one who had been tempting his dreams for too many years. He should have felt the noose tightening around his neck the minute those hot lips of hers touched his flesh.

  But there was something right about her touch. Something that called to him despite his misgivings. And he had a lot of misgivings, her father being one of his chief concerns.

  Shaking his head, he flipped the phone open again, hit Reno’s speed dial and waited.

  “I have five minutes,” Reno said quietly. “The senator has a meeting on the Hill and we’re escorting him.”

  “Keeping you busy, is he?” Kell smirked.

  “Watch it, Lieutenant, I could have Macey trade places with you and let you play the senator’s aide.”

  Not in this lifetime. “No, thank you, Commander. I’ll get right to the point. This party we’re attending day after tomorrow. The senator didn’t mention Ian. I want him in place. If our mole is government and close enough to the Stantons to be worried about the senator’s investigation, then we could be walking into trouble.”

  Reno was silent for long moments. “You’ll be followed by the Secret Service. I’ve gone over the agents’ files, they’re good men.”

  “My gut is rocking here, Reno. I need Ian in place.”

  He could feel that vague sense of danger moving in. It had begun to build the minute the senator began talking about the political party Emily was required to attend.

  “You’ll have him.” Reno made the decision quickly. “Your dress blues will be waiting when you arrive at the senator’s town house tomorrow afternoon. I’ll arrange for Ian to have clearance on the flight in. We’ll leave one of the Secret Service agents in the condo Ian’s using to keep an eye on Miss Stanton’s home while you’re gone.”

  Kell nodded at the shift in personnel. “We should arrive in D.C. by late afternoon according to the senator’s itinerary.”

  “Clint will be waiting at the town house with the security layout of the mansion the party’s being held at and the route he’s laying in for the drive there.”

  “Will you and Macey be in position?”

  “Only as long as the senator is at the party,” Reno answered. “On another note, watch your ass. The senator is a little too pleased by something going on out there. If you’re playing tango with the senator’s daughter then he could make a very bad enemy when things go sour.”

  “Any idea what he suspects?”

  “None, but he got a phone call last night and the man’s smile was positively smug. When he finished, he pulled up your file and spent quite a few hours going through it. So watch your six, my friend.”

  There could be few things worse than a former SEAL plotting another SEAL’s downfall by way of a wedding band. What concerned Kell was who would have called to assure the senator it was happening. Only one person had seen them together, seen them touching, and his investigation into her background had revealed nothing but a spoiled, bored little rich girl. Evidently the little rich girl was more than she allowed others to see.

  “I’ll keep my eyes open—”

  “And your jeans zipped,” Reno reminded him. “I know damned good and well what was going on after you saw that strip she did.”

  “It was a lap dance.” Kell grimaced at the satisfaction in his own voice.

  Reno snorted. “Make sure I get an invitation to the wedding. This would almost be worth watching.”

  “In your dreams,” Kell growled. “I’m out of here now.”

  “Watch your six, my friend,” Reno reminded him again. “I’ll be waiting when you show up in D.C.”

  Kell disconnected the phone, his gaze lifting as Emily stepped out of the bedroom. Her hair was still damp, her face still free of makeup, and rather than another pair of Capris, she was wearing jeans, a T-shirt tucked into the low band, and a wide belt cinched tightly around her hips.

  Her expression was mutinous, her body language assuring him he had offended her in the worst possible way. He was good at reading that particular message, he was just never real good at figuring out how he had managed to effect it.

  “Father should cancel that party,” she announced as she stalked to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. “It’s a waste of time. An excuse for a bunch of highbrows to get dressed up and stand around drinking someone else’s champagne.”

  “A thank-you for the political contributions and advice for the election that put your father in office,” Kell finished for her. “You’re his hostess. You’ve done the parties up until now, no one else can fill your place at this point.”

  She didn’t need him to tell her that. Emily could feel the frustration raging through her body, the irritability that stemmed from the unquenched desires racing through her, the fear of the step she had nearly taken.

  “Has he arranged my flight into D.C.?” she finally asked. “I hope he told you, because he certainly didn’t tell me.”

  There was a big broad set of shoulders in the house, so her father didn’t bother to apprise her of any of the plans. Typical. Infuriating.

  “We’ll leave in the morning for the naval base. We’ll be catching a Navy helicopter bound for Annapolis. Your father’s car will pick us up there, and drive us into the capital to his town house.”

  “Then to the Dunmore Mansion the night of the party,” she finished for him. “I know how it works.”

  The Dunmores were political allies of her father’s, and very influential within his political circle.

  “Then you know you can’t get out of it.” He shrugged, his gaze moving over her again, pausing at her breasts, her thighs. “Why did you get dressed?”

  Emily froze. She hadn’t expected him to be nearly so blunt regarding her lack of complete sanity earlier.

  “Because I thought it best to accept my near escape while I had the chance.”

  His eyes darkened with amusement as his lips quirked. Powerful arms crossed over his chest as he watched her intently, refusing to let her ignore the lust that filled his expression.

  “ ‘Near escape.’ That’s an interesting way of putting it.”

  “You weren’t even wearing a condom,” she ground out.

  “I wasn’t wearing one when I had my cock buried to your throat either,” he reminded her. “That didn’t stop you.”

  His response only fanned the flames of the anger brimming inside her. He was working her. Controlling her. She could feel it, just as she always felt her father doing it.

  “That won’t get me pregnant either. What are you trying to do, Kell? Get into Daddy’s good graces by knocking me up and giving him the son-in-law he wants? Have you decided the Stanton money and power might be enough incentive?”

  “I don’t need your daddy’s money, sweet pea,” he said with a smirk. The self-satisfied smile shouldn’t have made her heart race faster and it sure as hell shouldn’t make her remember what his kiss felt like. “And knocking you up isn’t exactly my game plan. Getting you hot and wet and full of me is all that matters at this point.”

  She nearly gaped at him. Blinked.

  “You dog!”

  His eyes gleamed back at her, filled with laughter and lust as he lazily scratched his cheek.

  “I’m not a dog,” he assured her. “I promise, not just any woman will do, Emily Paige. I’ve decided I’m gonna get in your pants before this mission is over. And I’m going to make damned sure I get in there hard enough and deep enough that you never forget
I was there.”

  Emily gasped. “You’re crazy.”

  “It’s not the first time I’ve heard that accusation,” he assured her, his expression supremely confident.

  She had to fight to keep from curling her fingers into a fist. To keep her foot on the floor instead of slamming it into his shin.

  “You are a pain in the ass!” she snapped.

  “Not yet.” He winked. “But give me time, sugar, and I’ll get there. But while you’re thinking about it, see if you can’t get your little bag packed for our trip tomorrow. And remember to pack light, those Navy helicopters we’re hitching a ride on don’t always have a lot of spare room.”

  She was right, Kell admitted as he watched her expression turn from shock to amazement, he was insane. He should be running from this woman as hard and as fast as possible. Instead, he was standing here, staring down at her, watching the flames of anger simmer in her blue eyes as the temper he had been waiting for began to rise to the surface.

  That red hair was hiding a hellion and he knew it. He shouldn’t be encouraging her—hellions could be dangerous—but damn if he wasn’t anticipating the fireworks.

  “Do you know what I really, really hate about SEALs?” She suddenly snarled, eyes narrowing, a little quiver of anger working over her body.

  Kell arched a brow mockingly. “We’re always right?”

  “You are always so damned egotistical. You think you’re so right. So in control. You think the whole freakin’ world revolves around you, don’t you, Kell?”

  “This one does,” he amended. He made certain of it. “It’s called training, sweet pea.”

  He didn’t expect the flash of hurt in her eyes when he said that.

  “Yes, it’s called training,” she bit out. “It’s called being free, Kell. It’s called being given control.”

  “You want control, Emily?” He shook his head. “I don’t think it’s something you want. Because if you wanted it, you would have taken it years ago. Let me clue you in on SEALs, baby. We know how to read strength, but we also know how to read weakness. If your daddy controls you, then it’s only because it’s what you wanted. You want control? Then show him who the boss is. Be a woman who can back down a SEAL, sugar, and he’ll give you the respect you’re looking for.”

  Emily stared back at him in shock. He had no idea what went on with her and her father.

  “You do not understand—”

  “I don’t have to understand, only you do.” He shook his head firmly. “You’re woman enough to stand up to any SEAL. Just because it’s not what your daddy wants doesn’t mean you can’t have it.”

  She was ready to scream. She was ready to throw something at him. Where in God’s name had her father found the one man guaranteed to make her want to kill?

  “I never imagined it did,” she snapped, a flush working from her neck and over her face, the dark pink color rising to her hairline and making an interesting contrast to her auburn hair, creating a fiery image as her eyes glittered a furious blue. He had never seen anything so gorgeous in his whole damned life.

  “So, we going to make use of that bed or make use of the stove? I could be getting hungry.”

  His gaze assured her that the hunger could go either way. Impossibly, she felt the anger sparking the desire as lust beat a hard-driving rhythm in her womb and anger surged through her head.

  “We’re going to make use of your gun,” she choked out furiously. “One nice, neat little hole in the middle of your empty forehead.”

  Kell sighed. “Let’s wait till after dinner. I’d hate to die on an empty stomach.”

  “You think you know so much!” She had to fight to keep from screaming, to hold back the inner rage driving forward. “You think you have all the fucking answers, don’t you, Kell?”

  “No, Emily, I don’t,” he answered forcefully, hating the pain he saw in her gaze now. “I don’t have all the answers. I only have what I see and what I learned from those dipshit bodyguards you’ve had in the past. Do you know what I see?”

  She flinched. “I don’t care what you see.”

  “I see a woman who loves too fiercely. One who is too aware of others’ pain and others’ heartache, and who doesn’t demand the same respect from those she loves. I see a woman who has remained a virgin, a virgin, Emily. An incredibly passionate woman dying to touch and be touched, and she’s doing without it so she won’t have to hurt her father. So she won’t have to explain to him that whoever she marries and whenever she marries is her own damned business, and not his.”

  There was no censure in his tone; if there had been, she could have fought him. She could have railed back in turn.

  “You’re wrong,” she whispered. “I’ve remained a virgin not because I didn’t want to fight him. Because I didn’t want others to pay for my fight with him. If you don’t believe me, give Charlie Benson a call. I have his number if you need it. He was an Annapolis graduate and my first boyfriend after I turned eighteen. When Daddy caught him sneaking out of my bedroom and I refused to marry him, Daddy destroyed a damned bright naval career. Daddy destroyed a man for my decision, Kell. And I won’t forget that. Maybe it’s something you should remember.”

  There was no escape from here. She couldn’t stalk outside, she wasn’t about to spend the rest of the summer in her bedroom. That left facing him, fighting him.

  But despite the humiliation she could still feel at remembering Charlie’s fate, Emily realized she enjoyed sparring with Kell. He didn’t raise his voice, he didn’t yell, he became forceful. And that forcefulness challenged something inside her, brought it to the fore and demanded that she challenge him in return.

  “Benson was sneaking in to your bedroom, Emily.” Kell laughed. “You were barely days past your eighteenth birthday and he was already in his twenties. He deserved what he got.”

  “Daddy had him kicked out of Annapolis.”

  “He was messing with an officer’s daughter; he knew the risks.”

  “See?” she yelled back. “You’re just like Dad. Charlie was young. He was being romantic.”

  “He was being horny.” He crossed his arms over his chest arrogantly. “He was all dick and no brain. You deserved better.”

  “And I guess you have a brain hiding in that head of yours?” she mocked in angry response.

  “I’m not a kid,” he assured her, his green eyes filled with his own self-confidence. “The fact that I knew what to do when I got my head buried between your thighs should have assured you of that.”

  “This is not about sex.” She pushed her fingers through her hair, gripped it and wondered if pulling the strands would pull the frustration out of her.

  She was ready to scream. He was impossible.

  “No, it’s about a hell of a lot more than sex. It’s about us, Emily, and your precious daddy has no dog in this race. You can tell him to keep his nose out of it or I will.”

  “You wouldn’t!”

  “He won’t catch me slipping out of your bedroom window. He pulls his normal stunts and he’ll catch me in your bed. You can deal with it before that happens, or after. Your choice. I’m an officer, sugar, and he’s not in the Navy any longer. He can’t touch me.”

  “You are not getting in my bed!” she yelled. She couldn’t help it. He was outrageous. Demented.

  “Sugar, one kiss.” He held up one finger. “Give me one kiss to prove otherwise. I’ll have you flat on your back and penetrated before you know it’s happened. Test that one out for size. Better yet.” His expression shifted, became hungry, sexual. “Try me on for size.”

  Oh, my God! She lost her breath. She was certain she’d lost her womb too, because the miniexplosions that detonated inside it couldn’t have been good. And then there was the melting sensation in her vagina, the liquid heat and contracting pleasure that had her catching her breath.

  “Not on your life. Sorry, Kell, but I crossed SEALs off my list years ago. I’ll just keeping looking if it’s all the same to you.”
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  She turned to stalk back to her last refuge, her only refuge, her bedroom.

  And she almost made it. She was at the door when he caught her, pulling her around and pressing her against the wall as she stared up at him in surprise

  Surprise, because his expression wasn’t playful anymore. It wasn’t filled with amusement and lust. It was pure lust. It was heavy-lidded, wicked, dark, and sensual lust.

  “Struck them off your list did you, chère?” The Cajun accent was heavy now, flavored with sex and rich with hunger. “Then you best be putting this SEAL right at the top of the candidates, ’cause I promise you, my little vixen, this SEAL is gonna get that pretty cherry you been saving. And he’s going to relish every taste, every cry, every thrust. You can bank on it, eh.”

  Emily stared back at him in shock. This wasn’t the cool, self-possessed, overly confident Kell Krieger she had come to know, though some was still there.

  This was a wild man. This was a man who knew every flavor of sex and it showed in his expression, in the brilliant depths of his eyes. It echoed through her body, burning her with the memory of his lips on her pussy, his tongue thrusting and licking inside her.

  She tried to breathe evenly. Tried to push back the response that surged inside her, as instinctive as breathing, as old as lust itself.

  Her wrists were gripped in his hands, pressed against the wall, restraining her with the strength of the muscular arms behind them. His hips pressed into hers, his cock thick and hard beneath his jeans, his intent clear, just as he stated. He intended to have her.

  “Not on a bet.” She almost winced at the breathless quality of her voice. It was smoky, sensual. A beckoning dare.

  “We’ll see about that.” The accent dissipated, smoothing from his voice as the devil-may-care smile returned. “That, darlin’, we’ll just have to see about.”

  Ten

  HE WAS LOSING HIMSELF TO her, Kell could feel it. He forced back the lust, the hunger that had no place in the mission he was on. He put distance between himself and the fiery woman who stole reason from his mind.