As he held firm to her neck, his lips pressed down on hers, sipping from her lips, driving his tongue deep inside the honeyed recess.
She set fire to him; there was no other way to describe it. She made him burn with need and a hunger to possess her unlike anything he’d ever known.
There was something unique about Lilly. There always had been, he had to ensure that there always would be.
As he felt her hands sliding up the leather covering his arms, the ragged need to have her na**d against him tore through his senses. He’d been too long without her. Now that he knew the taste of her, the pleasure to be found with her, he wanted more. He wondered if he’d ever have enough of her.
“Come with me,” he ordered against her lips before nipping at them seductively. “I promise, you won’t regret it.”
Lilly had a feeling it would be the one thing she ended up regretting more than anything else. But she didn’t want to resist either. She wanted to be wild and free with this man.
She didn’t remember the past six years, but she did remember the years before it. She’d lived her life according to others’ expectations. Those of her parents, her friends, her associates.
Her father expected her to follow in his footsteps as a purveyor of information to British Intelligence and she had wanted that as well. She’d been trained young to step into the role, just as her mother had begun training her young daughter to take her place in English society.
They had fought over that, she remembered. Her mother had no idea the work Lilly did with her father, but she had known her husband often advised Lilly not to marry, not to commit herself to another person.
She’d always done as she had been expected to do, as others had wanted her to do, as much as possible. She had never, that she remembered, lived within the moment. Taken a chance.
Been wild and free. The woman Travis described wasn’t the woman Lilly remembered herself being. She needed to know who that woman was.
“No censors?” she whispered, as his lips brushed over hers again.
“None.” He demanded another kiss, another melding of lips, stoking the heat between them as Lilly gave into the pleasure.
It was incredible. No more than the touch of his lips on hers, his tongue stroking against hers. His heartbeat pounded against her br**sts—how had he managed to pull her so close without her realizing?—his arms tight around her.
There was something about it that made her wonder if she had ever known passion before him.
Something warned her that she had known it with this man, and only this man.
Pulling back, Travis stared down at her shadowed features and knew she would follow him.
He didn’t say anything. Instead he lifted the keys from the pocket of his jacket and moved to his own motorcycle.
Straddling it, he pushed the key into the ignition. The two bikes started simultaneously.
Within seconds they were pulling away from the bar and heading through town.
Damn Elite Ops and the mission. It would end up destroying him and possibly Lilly as well.
This was exactly what he hadn’t wanted. To see the pain and confusion that filled her eyes, that was slowly tearing her apart.
There was instinct, suspicion, and what Travis knew was second nature. The fighter Lilly was was instinctive. It was as much a part of her as breathing. As being.
With such instinct, with such pure strength as he knew Lilly possessed, the memories would not be much further behind.
And now, they might well be closer than ever before.
The house he owned in Hagerstown was located in one of the more historic parts of the city. It was two stories, brick, completely remodeled on the inside, with almost an acre of land heavily bordered by a hedge of tall evergreen shrubs.
Hitting the remote programmed into the handle of the motorcycle, Travis slowed down for the rising of the garage door, then pulled the bike inside. Lilly rode in beside him, shut the engine to her own, and waited.
The door behind them slid closed with a squeak of the rubber seal against the cement.
“Nice.” Pushing the kickstand into place, Lilly swung off the seat and pulled the helmet from her head as she looked around.
He knew what she saw beside the Jaguar sitting in the other bay. Travis Caine was wealthy, a man who worked with the most exclusive, the most powerful men and women on earth. His lifestyle reflected that. Beside the Jag sat a specially designed, security-upgraded Hummer.
Beside that was another motorcycle, one known for its reputation of speed, power, and exclusivity. There were less than two hundred in the entire world.
“Very nice.” She didn’t touch it, not that Travis would have cared. The cycle had belonged to the first Travis Caine, as had the house, the vehicles, and the funds he lived on. Funds carefully monitored by the agency.
Travis was more interested in her shapely ass as she bent to look at the detailing of the hand-stitched seat.
“Would you like a drink?” He strode to the well-stocked bar on the other side of the garage.
Hell, all he wanted to do was get her in the bedroom, and here he was, stuck, while she admired his bike rather than his dick. Wasn’t that just his luck?
“No.”
“Shall we go in then?” Opening the door that led to the house, Travis entered ahead of her and made for the kitchen.
Marble floors led from the small garage foyer to the kitchen and dining room.
The damned place must have been an exercise for that first Travis Caine in how much money he could spend on a residence while keeping the outside so modest-looking.
Opening the refrigerator, he pulled two cold beers free and tossed a bottle across the room to Lilly, watching her closely.
She caught it, without thinking, then stared at the beer in confusion before lifting her gaze back at him. What he saw there made him want to curse. Confusion. Anger. Fear.
“You knew I’d catch it,” she whispered.
Unscrewing the cap with a deft twist, he tossed the metal disk to the counter before leaning against it casually.
He shrugged. “You like beer.”
“I detest beer.” Lilly stared at the bottle again, a bit surprised that her mouth was watering for the taste of it. Surprised that she actually wanted it.
“You learned to love it.” She watched him. “You told me once that until you had been forced to drink it, you hadn’t known how good it could taste.”
“And how was I forced to drink it?” Lilly sighed wearily.
He chuckled. “We were in Mexico. It was my beer or their water. You chose my beer.”