Dangerous Promise Read online



  Still, guilt pricked at her. The sex in the living room had been fantastic and much needed, since she hadn’t had a good, strong orgasm in months. Ewan had probably been desperate for that release, too, after weeks without so much as a furtive jackoff session. She wanted to tell herself that was the reason why she’d finally succumbed to not only Ewan’s persistent come-ons, but her own simmering desires. Release and nothing more. The problem was, Nina wasn’t good at lying, especially not to herself.

  The truth she could not ignore was this—there was something rough and rasping between them. Something like the snag of thorns on silk—or maybe, gravel on a knee. Nina knew well enough that in a world where she had not been enhanced and hired to keep him safe, she and Ewan would never even have met. Yet they had, and like he’d said, it had taken a myriad of connections for the universe to bring them together. That had to mean something, didn’t it? Nina had to admit to herself she wanted to think so.

  Now in the kitchen she rustled around in the supplies to find exactly the items she needed to use in her mother’s recipe while Ewan continued to sleep upstairs. Her boss, she reminded herself. Not her lover. Not really even her friend, even though they’d come closer to that over the past few days than she’d have imagined possible.

  Pulling out a mixing bowl she found in one cupboard, she laid out the ingredients on the counter as she measured, sifted, and poured. The kitchen in this remote, “primitive” cabin was better equipped than most of the places she’d lived in the past few years, and certainly far better outfitted than her own small house that she hadn’t even been inside for the past year and a half while she traveled from job to job. Mixing the batter by hand was how she’d learned to do it, though, and how she did it now, forgoing the fancy mixer with the stainless steel bowl and blades in favor of a simple fork she pulled from the drawer.

  She lost herself in the rhythm of it, stroking the fork through the batter as she counted in her head to two hundred. The sound of footsteps in the bedroom above put a small smile on her lips, as did the stealthy slip of feet on the stairs and then in the doorway. He was trying to be quiet, maybe even trying to sneak up on her and catch her unawares. After what had happened in the waterfall pool, she was surprised he’d be so . . . well, she supposed she could never call Ewan Donahue stupid. Incautious, then.

  He was watching her. The fine hairs at the nape of her neck tickled. She kept her back to the doorway as she mixed the batter steadily. He should know better than to surprise her . . . but he had to know she wasn’t going to be surprised. He slipped up behind her. Put his hands on her hips. His mouth found the nape of her neck in a gentle yet claiming kiss that sent a rush of arousal through her, and she welcomed it with a soft, indrawn sigh that sounded almost like a purr.

  His heat against her back told her he was still naked. She’d dressed completely, including her gear. She could fight naked as easily as clothed, but it was always better to have her gear handy.

  There was more to it than that, too. She put the bowl on the counter and turned to face him at his hands’ silent urging on her hips. Being naked during sex was one thing. Facing him naked in the morning was a level of intimacy and vulnerability Nina wasn’t ready for.

  It obviously hadn’t bothered Ewan, who wore his bare skin as carelessly as he did those four-thousand-credit suits. He kissed her mouth, sweet and soft, when she turned. His fingers curled against the thin fabric of her shirt just above her belt.

  “Morning,” he whispered into her ear. The flick of his tongue on her lobe sent a shiver tiptoeing up and down her spine. “You’re making me breakfast again.”

  “I hope you like pancakes.”

  He smiled as he kissed her again. This time, she let herself soften into it. His lips parted, his tongue probing gently against hers until she relented and opened for him. He backed her against the counter in a step or two.

  Her hands went automatically to his shoulders, her fingers digging slightly into the muscles there. Seconds later, her grip tightened at the sound of his answering moan. Curiously, she let one hand slide down to his side. She pinched, lightly at first, then harder, above the bony curve of his hip.

  Ewan reacted immediately by pressing his cock against her. With the barrier of her clothes between them, she missed the heat of his flesh, but there was no mistaking the hardness there. When she pinched still harder, he pushed his hips forward and broke the kiss with a small, groaning gasp.

  His gaze had a smoky distance in them that sent a rush of arousal through her in response. She smoothed her fingertips over the spots she’d dug into. Her other hand went around the back of his neck to curl her fingers there, holding him in place.

  “Do you like that?” she asked quietly as her fingers stroked the soreness.

  In reply, Ewan let his tongue slip out over his lower lip. A flash of something far less dazed and dreamy glinted in his dark hazel eyes. His mouth firmed. He tried to pull away from her, but her hand curled at the back of his neck kept him from it, at least unless he wanted to really struggle. She was able to easily keep him in place because he wasn’t willing to make that effort, and because she was so much stronger.

  She would always be stronger than him, and for the first time in a long, long time, Nina didn’t think it mattered.

  She pinched his side again, then again, using the tips of her fingers to nip at him. He tried to pull away from her again, but she held him still. Between them, his cock got rock hard.

  “Your cock says you do,” Nina whispered, her gaze fixed on his.

  Ewan’s lips parted. She caught the glimpse of his teeth inside. The pink sweetness of his tongue. She wanted it, right then, and she leaned to take it. When she bit it, he shook.

  This time, when he pulled away, she let him go.

  He moved a step or two, his chin lifted. Fists at his sides. His cock had softened, but only a little, and although she wanted to let herself glory in the sight of it, and his reaction to her, Nina made sure to keep her eyes fixed on his.

  “I only want to hurt you if you like it,” she told him. “It’s no good for me, otherwise.”

  Ewan scowled, and she wondered if he was regretting not taking the time to slip into at least a pair of briefs before he’d come downstairs intent on revisiting what they’d done the night before. “Do you like it?”

  “Yes,” she admitted.

  “Is it something you . . . usually do?”

  A pang filtered through her watching the shadows she’d grown to find familiar, if inscrutable, shutter his gaze. “I don’t like to compare relationships.”

  “Is that what you think this is?”

  She chose her response carefully. “Neither of us is the sort to confuse sharing a few hours of physical intimacy with something deeper. We needed something from each other last night, and we got it. That’s all that part of it has to be. But that doesn’t mean this isn’t a relationship, and there’s no point in comparing what we did to anything we’ve done with other people.”

  “Who says I need anything from you?” Ewan said.

  Nina shook her head and turned back to the bowl. She beat the batter a few more times with the fork, then set it on the counter to settle while she turned on the stove burner and found a pan and some synthbutter from the cupboard.

  “You came down here this morning, naked, to kiss the back of my neck,” Nina pointed out. She’d have none of his bullshit. This was far from the first time she’d dealt with the regrets of a romantic partner who tried to turn the blame on her. She’d known better, and fucked him anyway. That made her foolish, but not a fool.

  When he didn’t answer, she turned back to the stove and poured a thin circle of batter to test the temperature in the pan. It was a little too hot, so she adjusted the flame. She looked for a turner, found one in the wooden utensil holder on the counter, and used it to test the edge of the pancake.

  Ewan still hadn’t said anything by the time she flipped it, a bit too early, since the cooked side was still pale. She