Three more minutes to wait. Coffee had been a big mistake. He studied the people around him. A woman with a baby and a four-year-old boy jumping up and down, waiting for his dad to come home. An elderly couple, their faces creased with smiles as they waited for their grandkids. Finally, the shuttle passengers started trickling out. One minute… two… and there she was, dressed in a deep green suit. Hair swept up, gleaming. Gold earrings dangled beneath her ears. She looked so gorgeous, he wanted to kick himself for not at least attempting to iron the shirt. It wouldn't have killed him to try.
Too late for regrets. She was wheeling a carry-on suitcase behind her, thank God. Time to put his half-assed plan into action.
His heart slammed against his ribs like a jackhammer as she came through the gate. She still hadn't caught sight of him. He chose a diagonal collision course that brought him right up behind her, and grabbed her arm. "Hey, sweetheart."
She spun around. He took full advantage of her shocked confusion and yanked her closer, staring down into wide, startled gold-brown eyes. Her mouth was moist with tinted lip gloss, hanging open in adorable confusion.
"Good to see you again, babe." He scooped her close and tight against his body, and kissed her.
She stiffened, latching onto his upper arms for balance. She made a soft, frightened sound against his mouth.
He deepened the kiss, sliding his arm to the deep flare of her hip, splaying his hand over her beautiful ass. He hadn't planned on kissing her. The impulse had sneaked up on him, but it was perfect. Inspired. It all looked like lovers' play, and that soft, luscious mouth of hers was too busy to complain.
Then her scent rose up around him, like a hot pink cloud, and his mind went blank. It was spring-like and tangy and sweet. Intensely female. A secret weapon that he was unprepared for. He wanted to gasp in huge, gulping lungfuls of it, like a man who'd been trapped underwater and had finally reached air.
Her scent blended with her taste, just as silky sweet, and a confusion of soft, unbelievable textures, the yielding tenderness of her lips, the satiny wisps of hair at the nape of her neck, her baby-smooth skin. His senses were overwhelmed.
She vibrated in his arms, a delicate tremor like a trapped bird. He forgot about Novak, about the airport, about the National Guardsmen. He forgot everything but his own desperate, clawing need to coax her mouth to open, to taste more of her.
She flung her head back, gasping for air. A stain of wild-rose pink was burned into her cheeks, startling against the delicate gold tone of her skin. Her pupils were black wells ringed with jewel-toned agate brown. Sunset, honey, and chocolate. Her dark, curling lashes fluttered with dazed confusion.
She licked her lips. "Connor? What… what are you—"
He shifted to keep her off balance and slanted his mouth across her lips again. He slid his hand down her graceful spine and pressed her against his lower body as he cupped the nape of her neck. He dove deep into one of those waves-crashing-on-the-beach kisses, sweet and devouring and desperate. When he finally released her, he was trembling harder than she was.
She dragged in a deep, hitching breath. He leaned his hot forehead against hers, making a cage of privacy with his cupped hands around their faces. "Shhh," he murmured. He grabbed the suitcase out of her hand. "Let's go."
He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her along with him. She had to scurry to keep up. "Go where?" Her voice was still soft and uncertain. Not yet an attention-getting bellow of outrage. "Connor, please. I—"
This time he bent her over backwards so that she had to cling to his neck to stay on her feet. He moved his mouth across her lips, muffling her protests until finally she was just holding on, swaying. He pressed soft kisses over her face, her throat, and nuzzled the perfumed, tickling wisps at her neck.
"Shhh," he urged. "Trust me."
Into those big revolving doors, and he'd be home free.
"Trust you?" Her voice shook as he swept her into movement once again. "About what? Connor, I'm supposed to meet someone at baggage claim! Slow down!"
She was starting to splutter and struggle in his grasp, but they were out the revolving door, and he was hustling her across the skyway. No airport security. Just travelers going about their business, shooting them the occasional curious glance.
Erin dug in her heels and dragged him to a halt. "Wait a goddamn minute, Connor McCloud, and—no! Don't you dare kiss me again!" She shrank away. "That's a dirty trick! That's not fair!"
"I never claimed to be fair." He stared at her tender, reddened lips and realized that he was panting. Openmouthed, like an animal. He grabbed her hand and yanked her along. "Hurry."
"To what? For what? What the hell are you doing here?"
They were in the parking garage elevator well, bells were pinging, doors were about to open, and she was gathering her breath to yell at him again. He wrapped his arms around her and slid his tongue into her mouth.
A tiny squeak, and a speechless gasp, and she went limp.
So far this had gone more smoothly than his wildest hopes. The only trick would be getting himself to stop kissing her. She was so sweet. He could get lost in the sensual world of her moist, yielding mouth. He could get sucked in. Forget his own name.
He waited until the elevators emptied and the people had cleared out before he dared to release her. He cupped her face in his hands, stared into her eyes. Trying to communicate his urgency with all the force of his will. It actually seemed to work. He took her by the arm. She stumbled after him, unresisting.
He popped open his trunk, flung in her stone-heavy suitcase, and slammed it shut. "Let's go."
She wrenched herself out of his grasp. "Wait I'm not going anywhere with you, Connor. Explain yourself to me. Right now."
Whatever spell the kiss had cast was short-lived. He backed her up against the Cadillac and boxed her in with his arms.
"I'm driving you to the coast," he said. "I'm booking us a room in a different hotel. Tomorrow I'll accompany you to that meeting. Afterwards, I'll drive you home. Any questions?"
"Connor, I told you last night I didn't want a bodyguard—"
"Too bad."
She shoved against his chest "I refuse to be pushed around. You have no right. You can't—oh!"
"Watch me." He shoved her back against the car, bending her over backwards. She blinked up at him, her chest heaving.
He knew it wasn't fair to intimidate her with his size and his strength. It didn't work in the long term anyway; it was just a quick and dirty temporary solution, but she was so warm, her tits straining against her blouse. He felt every tremor that rippled through her soft, pliant body. And her scent was a low-down, nasty trick. A drug that went straight to his head and made him stupid.
Her thick eyelashes swept down, veiling her eyes. She wiggled against him, unintentionally sensual. "Connor," she whispered. "Please. This isn't right."
"I'm holding your suitcase hostage, Erin. I mean business."
"I am not your responsibility, Connor." Her voice had a stern, lecturing tone that was strangely at odds with the vulnerable pose of her body. "You have no right. I can decide for myself—"
"I have to do this," he broke in. "You know why?"
He waited to answer his own question until her eyes flicked up to his. "Because this is what your dad would've done," he said flatly. "He had the right to shove you around, but he's not here."
Her mouth opened. Nothing came out. He seized her chin and forced her to meet his eyes again. "You've got no clue, Erin. No clue what Novak is capable of. Do we understand each other?"