Unable to hold himself up any longer, he collapsed forward and rested his face against her fragrant throat. “I never forgot you, Rose.”
A quiver ran through her, but she didn’t speak.
After another long moment, he drew back enough to look at her. He didn’t find tears on her cheeks or even standing in her eyes. He saw amazement in those depths as dark blue as sapphires.
“I never forgot you either,” she whispered.
He kissed her again, slower this time, but no less thoroughly. Minutes passed. His cock never softened and he gave one more slow pump inside her.
“Ohhhh,” she moaned out.
“I think this reunion calls for more than one session, don’t you? Just to make sure we got it right.” He gave her a quirk of a smile.
She spread her hands across his back, urging him down again. A growl escaped his throat, and he claimed her nipple on his tongue as he pumped his hips.
Tonight, he needed everything she had to give him.
Chapter Five
Rose woke in a strange bed in a strange place and had no damn clue how she arrived here.
Then it all came flooding back—being kidnapped, the battering she’d taken in the back of the van and the rescue, the dark, desolate beach, the frightening whirlwind of the safehouse…and finally being in Oz’s arms all night long.
When she sat up and looked around the bedroom, her muscles cried out with a reminder that she hadn’t treated them right. Her shoulder muscles hurt, probably from her hands being bound and in the same position for hours on end. She’d also been yanked out of one vehicle and thrown into another sometime during the long hours—days?—that passed. Small spots were sore to move or touch, but mostly she felt the workout she’d gotten between her thighs.
Glancing around, she saw no trace of Oz’s clothes. Her own were neatly draped over the back of a chair in the corner. She slipped out of bed and into the bathroom to dress. Her stomach rumbled with hunger. She’d eaten little that Elizabeth offered the previous night and now her appetite had returned.
Fully dressed, she moved through the suite. Oz wasn’t curled in the corner of the sleek brown leather sofa. He didn’t stand at the tall tinted windows either.
She continued her exploration, more than a little worried about what she would—or wouldn’t—find. While she never expected to keep the man in her life, a deep part of her would never stop wanting just that.
Stupid.
The small kitchenette contained all the modern conveniences and gathered natural light in the chic white space. But no man with threads of silver through his dark hair and beard stood at the counter with a cup of coffee.
Where exactly was that light coming from? She turned in a circle and spotted a door that might have been missed if it wasn’t cracked. As soon as she opened it, the sunlight flooding a stairwell made her blink.
Should she go up? With the amount of light burning into her eyes, these stairs must lead to the roof.
She set a foot on the bottom stair. Each step she took upward, her heart drummed harder, faster, more painfully. After her ordeal, she might find anything up here. A gang of assassins prepared to shoot her upon sight. Or Oz tied up, hurt and helpless.
Though she couldn’t imagine the man anything but capable and bad-ass as ever, her fears compounded the closer she drew to the top.
When she stepped out into the sunlight, she instantly spotted him, with his back to her, his shirt sleeves rolled over his muscled forearms and veins snaking up to disappear into the cuffs. He spoke softly, and she jolted with the realization he was on the phone.
“Isn’t there a way I can get out of it? Fine, I’ll make the side journey.” He ran his hand over his face before continuing. “Yes. I’ll get her safe first. Scratch that—I’ll have to bring her with me. No, this isn’t the best place to leave her. Too many people. Yeah. Get the sister on it. North too.” He paused, obviously listening to the speaker on the other end of the line.
Rose clamped her fingers together in front of her and thought about taking the stairs down again before he realized she eavesdropped.
This time his voice came out as a rough rasp, hot with pain. “They recovered him? Fuck. Goddammit. All right. Full honors for him, you hear me? As soon as I return, I’ll gather the congregation.”
Her brows pinched at his words. Clearly he spoke of the man who’d died trying to rescue her. He never told her his name, and he didn’t utter it now to whoever he talked with. But the part about the congregation confused her—had Oz become religious since she knew him? The way it sounded, he could be a pastor or reverend.
She didn’t see him end the call or pocket his phone, but suddenly he turned to her. The heavy stare pinning her to the rooftop made her insides quiver
He let his gaze travel over her, from her loose hair to her breasts, down her belly and legs before he landed on her eyes again.
“You slept,” he stated.
She nodded. His focus made her so jittery that she looked away. She walked across the roof to peer out at the view comprised of few buildings, and in the distance, the ocean again. They were still somewhere along the coast, maybe south of Charleston. Or north. Did it matter? She wouldn’t get home today or maybe even tomorrow.
At least she could take comfort that her sons wouldn’t be found. At the time of their birth, she’d refused to name the father, which made her own father even more cautious and protective of his family. By pulling all possible strings, he’d locked down their birth records and the school they attended had top security over them. One of the perks of having a high-ranking officer for a father. At the time of their birth, he believed he was shielding them all from a deadbeat father. She snorted, thinking what really could have happened..
Oz stepped up beside her. “What is it?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. So, now what? Is it time for that talk you promised me, where you tell me everything I need to know?”
A gleam came into his eyes. “I think it’s you who needs to do some talking, Rose. You’re the one who got yourself kidnapped.”
She wrapped her arms around herself and faced him. “I’ll tell you everything that I can.” The lawyer part of her carefully worded her statement so he couldn’t come back and accuse her of nondisclosure.
He didn’t seem eager to start interrogating her or talking about his own life, so they just stood there for a long minute in the sunshine. As he studied her face, she grew self-conscious. She was still young but not that young. No longer did she possess the skin of an eighteen-year-old. She bore small creases at the corners of her eyes and with no makeup and only some harsh soap in the shower last night, she couldn’t exactly say her skin possessed a model’s glow.
Oz reached out and brushed the pad of his thumb over her cheek. “Now that we’re in the sun, I can see your freckles.”
“Yes, they’re harder to spot on a dark beach after escaping kidnappers.”
As the corner of his mouth quirked up in amusement, her stomach took a wild dip. With his thumb still on her cheek, their eyes locked. He slipped his thumb down to her lips, and she twisted into his touch at the same moment he brought his arm around her.
Each breath she took felt too hot for her lungs as awareness peaked in her again. After one night with Oz, her body craved his.