It didn’t help that he couldn’t stop staring at her mouth. “You sure you can trust her?”
“More than I trust you. She’s known who I am the whole time I’ve been here. She’s the one who told me to pretend to be her long-lost niece.”
“Okay.”
She stared at him for a moment and bit her lower lip. Then she asked, “Owen’s worried?”
“Yeah. He’s pissed he can’t find you. What the fuck are you doing out here? And why the hell is that weird reverb still echoing through my body?”
Footsteps sounded from a short distance away. They both froze.
And then he made a choice, a bad one. He kissed her. What he’d thought might prove a decent cover—that of a man and woman in a sexual clinch—soon turned all too real. Heat blazed throughout his body as the scent and taste of the woman he embraced went straight to his head.
Her hands pressed against his chest again. She opened her mouth, no doubt in protest, then sighed into his mouth and met his searching tongue with her own. She ran her palms over his chest to his shoulders and around his neck. The feel of her soft hands against his skin made him growl, and he yanked her harder against him.
All thought fled. With nothing but instinct to guide him, Jack fully intended to bury himself in her right here, right now. He deepened the kiss and felt her breath hitch as she melted into him. So fucking good. He palmed her ass and ground her against him. Then he put a hand between them and pushed under her sweater. Her full breast sat heavily in his palm, and he squeezed, loving the feel of her tight nipple through the lacy bra.
She gasped his name and moaned, clenching his neck with strong fingers. A blaze of energy whispered through him, different from the power under his feet, and seemed to come from Heather.
Immediately distrustful, he pulled his mouth away and blinked down into her cloudy green eyes. Suspicion faded as lust overwhelmed him once more. Damn, he wanted to watch her come around him, to see the pleasure blossoming on her face explode into a full-out orgasm.
“Not here, you two.” An old man chuckled as he continued past them. “Young people.”
She and Jack tensed, breathing hard. He slowly removed his hand from under her sweater, and she withdrew her hands from around his neck. She’d been standing on tiptoe, and the disparity in their sizes enhanced his need to claim and protect. The rational part of him told him to step back and reassess the situation. Especially since he hadn’t heard that old man beyond the onset of footsteps, which should have warned Jack to pull away.
He bleakly remembered the last time he’d been caught so off guard. Melissa. That lying bitch had nearly had him killed, and she’d controlled him like a puppet on strings, managing to get under his guard. A lot like this woman, and he hadn’t felt a tenth for Melissa as he did for this sexy stranger.
Jack mentally pulled himself together and glared down at Heather. She seemed a little too cool for his liking. “What the fuck was that?” he hissed.
“I don’t know.” She didn’t sound winded or upset, and her unflappable composure bothered the shit out of him.
“Great. Don’t do it again.” He completely ignored the fact he’d initiated the kiss. Still trying to restore his body to calm, he yanked her out of the alcove. “Ida’s. Now.”
“Don’t get all huffy, Jack.” She smiled at him, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Aunt Ida’s is the blue cottage around the corner. Come on.”
He let her pull away from him this time, because holding her felt too right. It had taken him years to get over Melissa’s perfidy, and to say he had trust issues was an understatement. He got on well with his PowerUp! team members, mostly because he remained in control. The PowerUp! Gym provided a place where he and his team could keep in physical and mental shape while they secretly worked out their psychic skills. He trusted Kitty, his day manager, without reserve. The empath knew his secrets and had never betrayed him. Then again, he wasn’t involved in a personal relationship with her. Kitty had his back on missions and at work. The rest of the team pulled together to accomplish the mission. He trusted them to get the job done but nothing more than that.
Jack didn’t have a personal life. He didn’t need or want one, contrary to what his team said behind his back, what they thought he didn’t hear: Lone wolf, hard-ass, monster of a boss, dickhead. He accepted his solitary nature. He just wished everyone else would as well.
Time to get his head on straight and remember that Heather Stallbridge was a job and nothing more. Sister to his business partner, Owen, and his current case. Period. End of story.
If only he didn’t know how she tasted and felt under his hands.
He narrowed his gaze on the back of her head and followed her to a pretty blue cottage that looked like something out of a fairy tale.
A look around showed much of the same up and down the street. Quaint, Bavarian-style architecture lined the houses pressed against one another. Only the blue cottage stood apart, with dark red geraniums and purple pansies clustered in window boxes under two large, paned windows.
A petite bistro sat outside the front door, caged in by a tiny yard with a wooden fence. It felt like Hansel and Gretel might pop in for a visit at any moment. The rest of the town seemed as charming, with uncluttered walkways free of litter and debris. Only the sweet scent of flowers and freshly made bread filled the crisp mountain air.
The power that swelled under his feet seemed welcoming, accepting, and before he knew it, he’d let it in, allowing it to strengthen and refresh him after so many days spent searching.
Heather reached for his hand, and he tensed when she curled her fingers around his. “Don’t open yourself up too much. It’s addicting; trust me.”
She knew. How she knew, he couldn’t say. But the woman read him, and he didn’t like it any more than he’d liked kissing her. Touching her. Grinding against her.
Fuck. His hard-on ached, and he glared down at the top of her golden head as they waited for someone to answer her knock on the door.
The door opened, and a frail old woman with blazing blue eyes stared out at them. Her long white hair lay in a braid over her shoulder, and though she seemed petite and stood slightly bent over, he sensed a core of deep strength within her. Not someone to underestimate.
She smiled at him, wisdom shining in the depths of her gaze. “Welcome.” Like the rest of the town, she spoke in German.
He answered in kind. “Thank you.” He followed Heather inside into a warm living space. A sofa and love seat surrounded an antique coffee table and side tables. A few magazines and books sat in a nearby wicker basket. A pitcher of freshly cut flowers brought attention to a farm table and surrounding oak chairs in the expansive kitchen open to the living area.
The walls were a pale cream and covered in pictures—artwork, family photographs, and a few pieces of old framed papers. Warmth and care had been poured into the house, and he felt surprisingly comfortable, despite his large size among the smaller-scale things.
“Come. Sit down. We’re safe to talk here.” Ida walked to the love seat and sat, then patted the spot next to her with a smile.
Heather sat with her, leaving Jack to take a spot on the low-seated couch. He sank into down cushions and sighed, grateful to have his back to a solid wall and his butt in a surprisingly comfortable spot. “You must be Ida.”
“And you must be Jack. Nice to meet you.”
He frowned. Heather hadn’t yet introduced him. “Did Hans call you?”
She shook her head. “Jan mentioned you’d be coming.”