Night Stalkers: By Break Of Day Part 23

"You don't want your sword interfering with how you mount. So left foot in the left stirrup, grab the horn and the cantle, push off with the right, and up you go. Don't kick Ivory's behind as you swing your leg over or she's likely to try running off with you."

Before Kara could protest that she wasn't ready, Justin's strong hands wrapped about her waist and let her float up into position. He made a few adjustments to the saddle before s.h.i.+fting over to his own horse.

It was as if she could see the whole world from up here. She looked down at Justin's hat, which was a new perspective on him. Though the ground looked pretty far away seeing as she was sitting atop a very large animal. As Ivory s.h.i.+fted her stance to accommodate Kara's weight, the saddle seemed to s.h.i.+ft and ripple beneath her. Kara resisted the urge to grab on to the horn with both hands; cowboys never did that in the movies, but lame girls always did. She wasn't a lame girl and kept her hands calm, one holding both reins, the other resting on her thigh-ready to grab the horn if need be.

She admired how effortless Justin made it look to mount. This was clearly as natural to him as riding the subway was to her. He stepped his horse sideways until their knees brushed and he leaned in to kiss her.

"Kara Moretti astride a horse wearing Lucchese boots. Who would have thought you could get even more beautiful than you already are."

Kara was not going to swoon at a compliment. She was far too nervous to swoon. But her nervous system considered it.

One look at Justin astride the tall red and the concept of swooning took on a whole new meaning. It was as if she'd never seen him clearly before. This was where he belonged-in the saddle, out in nature on a sun-dappled morning, ready to ride off among the oak and maple.

Then he led them forward and all thoughts of anything beyond survival were swept away.

Justin had helped train hundreds at the Roberts Quarter Horse Ranch. The young ones generally did better because they weren't set in their ways yet. Most adults were stiff, awkward, thought they were driving a car, or just couldn't relax in the saddle which always made a horse twitchy.

But every now and then an adult student simply had the intuitive feel for what was right. What happened then was always a wonder to watch. With a confident hand, a horse behaved, which increased the new rider's confidence in a feedback loop.

Perhaps it was all those hours Kara spent dodging through harsh air currents, perhaps it was just in her nature, but Justin never had a student go so easily from walk to trot to cantering down a trail. Ivory had a smooth-footed pace, but that wasn't even half of it. Kara simply let herself ride. She looked so natural that he was half tempted to try a gallop, but decided not to push her on her first time astride a horse.

As in so many things, Kara was a natural. With her hair banner-flown behind her, she moved with the saddle as easily as she moved in his arms.

And with an equal impact on his libido.

They'd only hired the horses for an hour because more than that would be cruel to a new rider's legs. And that was a good thing. If he didn't get her alone in short order, he was going to be one deeply frustrated cowboy.

Justin wasn't more than two steps into the hotel room when he was attacked by a short, Italian whirlwind who smelled of heaven and tasted of pure sin. Keeping his hands off Kara Moretti for three days in a row had been torture and he never wanted to do it again.

She pinned him against the window with a twenty-story drop just a thin sheet of gla.s.s away. But she'd been very strategic in her attack. His T-s.h.i.+rt was gone and his jeans were around his ankles, held there by his cowboy boots. She was fully dressed, and he was naked and couldn't even walk.

But his hands were free and he didn't resist the enticement to run them up her still fully clothed body as she slid down his unclothed one. Womanly hips, a waist that he tried to trap because it felt so wonderful against his palms, but still she continued down. Generous b.r.e.a.s.t.s filled his palms but still she slid down until all he could manage was to dig his hands into her hair.

That's how she took him. Pressed against the gla.s.s with his back and b.u.t.t exposed to lower Manhattan, his hands lost in a tangle of hair so thick that they could get lost there and decide to never leave, and his heart completely gone into the morning sky.

His pent-up need for her exploded from him as she hummed happily, sending vibrations racing up his nervous system.

When his knees finally let go, he slid down to the carpet, taking her with him. He managed to free his hands from the luxurious fall of brunette and gold, but all he could manage was to s.h.i.+ft her so that he could lie with his ear resting on the center of her chest.

Her happy hum continued as she wound a leg and her arms around him. They lay unmoving long enough for the sunlight streaming in the window to warm them.

"Justin?" His name blended with the quick double beat of her heart through her soft blouse.

"What does it feel like?"

He opened his mouth and then closed it. How could he describe what it felt like to have her teeth lightly sc.r.a.pe him, the soft, moist heat of...

No. She wasn't asking about the s.e.x.

He opened his mouth a second time, with little better luck because now he knew exactly what she was asking.

Kara had gone still with waiting for his answer. Wanting to know.

"I think of you all the time."

"I do that too. Give me more."

He went to prop himself up on his elbows.

But she'd wrapped her arms around his head upon her breast and kept him anch.o.r.ed there.

"When I make love to you, or you make love to me..." He broke off when he felt her hesitation. "Because trust me, girl, what you just did wasn't merely s.e.x."

"No. It was toast."

"What?"

"Doesn't matter. What does it feel like?"

She still didn't say the word. This time he forced his head up to look down at her.

Her dark eyes were wide, tracking back and forth across the ceiling as if searching for an answer that she couldn't find. Finally her gaze settled on his face.

"It feels like flying. When you're riding the curve of a storm or a battle and you know you've got it licked. No way it can buck you off. You've got it so clean because you're in that perfect flow and synchronicity no matter how wild the ride. I've watched you fly, Kara. It doesn't matter if you do it from a chair or in the sky; you know exactly what I mean."

Her expression s.h.i.+fted again, every emotion clear. Uncertainty, doubt, then fear. That was one expression he'd never expected to see on her face.

"What are you afraid of, Kara Moretti?"

She rolled her head back and forth against the carpet. "I don't know." It was barely a whisper. Then her eyes focused on him once more. "But I do know one thing."

"What's that?"

Kara didn't answer, but instead closed her eyes and pressed up where his one hand had come to rest on her hip.

He began tracing over her clothes, under her clothes, working her body with his free hand and his mouth until she lay naked and shuddering on his other arm. He had replaced the boots after helping her shed her pants; it was a wonderful combination-soft leather and soft woman.

"What one thing do you know, Kara?" He stopped, held her on the edge of a cascade reaction that he could never tire of evoking from her limitless responses to his attention.

"Kara?" He nibbled an ear.

She forced her eyes open, though it clearly took effort to come back from the place he had her teetering.

"What one thing do you know?" he prompted her again.

She rested a hand on his cheek even as she shuddered with the effort. "I may be the AMC." Her breath came shorter and shorter. "But on the ground, I'm going to do my best to follow your lead. I'm afraid of several things, Cowboy. But you aren't one of them."

Justin brushed his lips over hers in a sweet kiss as he slipped into her and offered her the release her whole being was begging for.

Chapter 21.

It was almost dinnertime before Justin checked out of the hotel and they headed back toward the Moretti home.

Kara was sore in a dozen places, every one of them wonderful. Justin had a cat-ate-the-canary grin that shone brighter than the Manhattan skyline on Christmas Eve.

They walked hand in hand, and she ignored the grumble of the early commuters today just as she had three days before.

"Three days." She spoke in surprise.

"I was just thinking that myself."

"How come s.h.i.+t happens so fast?" She didn't even recognize herself. Holding hands with a cowboy-while wearing totally awesome cowboy boots-and totally happy to be doing it. Far past the toast stage and headed well into four-letter land.

"I suppose that we're simply two right fortunate folk."

She squeezed his hand in agreement and did her best to erase her smile when some street punk sneered at her expression. Kara gave it up as a lost cause and left the goofy smile in place even though it was making her cheeks hurt.

"There is one other thing it feels like, Kara."

"What's that?" Oh, being in love. Rather, him being in love with her. Being in love-that still only applied to him, right?

He stopped her in the middle of the sidewalk, ignored the surge of commuters as only a Special Operations cowboy pilot could, and kissed her. Kissed her until her toes curled inside the soft Lucchese leather. Until she wanted to drag him down on the sidewalk and to h.e.l.l with the street punk's sneer and the crowds threatening to trample them.

Justin released the kiss, but not his one-armed hold that held her so tightly against him.

"It feels like a kiss?"

"What? No. I did that simply because I wanted to."

Kara could feel the goofy smile go right over the top.

He started them walking again before he continued. "Being in love feels like you'd rather die than ever have the feeling stop."

Kara caught her boot heel and stumbled on a crack in the sidewalk, might have fallen if not for their interlaced fingers. Though when she glanced back she couldn't see the break.

If that was being in love, then she was way past "toast" and right on over into "totally screwed."

Justin's phone rang as they approached the Morettis' front door. By chance, Al Junior and Senior, along with black sheep Rudi, were approaching from the other direction at close to the same moment.

Justin pulled out the phone but didn't recognize the number.

"Roberts."

He heard a sound that had always reminded him of a chicken the moment its neck was wrung. He tapped in the current encryption code to unscramble the signal and tried again. "Roberts."

Kara hadn't missed what was happening and moved in closer to listen. It was against protocol, but he leaned down and tipped the phone out so that she could hear.

"Your present location, Brooklyn, New York." The operator's all-business tone didn't make it a question. "Report Fort Belvoir, Virginia, Pence Gate at precisely 2315 hours tonight. You will be directed from there. A rental car will be reserved and waiting for you six blocks due east of your current position. GPS locator on Captain Kara Moretti's cell says that you are in probable contact. Is this correct?"

"Yes."

"She is also required. This is a secure message. Need-to-know only. Acknowledge."

"Acknowledged."

And the line went dead.

He barely had time to exchange a glance with Kara before her father and brothers reached them.

"So, you come to stay with us now?" Rudi addressed him, but didn't wait for an answer before turning to tease his sister. "You gonna make him stay in the guest room again?"

His father smacked Rudi on the back of the head, which only made him grin.

"I was hoping to stay. However, that is no longer possible." He held up the phone still clutched in his hand before tucking it away. "I apologize, but I'm afraid that I've been called back to service and have to leave immediately."

Mr. Moretti looked genuinely disappointed. He reached out and took Justin's hand, but offered no bone crusher this time, instead a single firm shake.

"We will miss you. You are welcome back for as long as my daughter will allow it."

"Thank you, sir. You're most kind. And I regret that Kara is also called back. We just need to pick up her belongings."

"Hey, that's not right. Sis was supposed to be here a whole week, not three days." Rudi sounded genuinely upset.

"Get a grip, Rudi." Kara punched her brother's arm, hard. "It's not his doing. I'm the one who got a new job t.i.tle last month; I'm important now. And I can still beat the s.h.i.+t out of you." Then she kissed him on each cheek before turning to face Justin. "Give me two minutes."

Kara scrambled up the two flights to her room and began jamming the stuff she'd scattered all over the room into her duffel. She looked longingly at the comfortable single bed. She'd hoped to have Justin in here with her tonight.

It wasn't about making love here, for she could no longer deny that's what they were doing. It was about holding and being held. Almost as if at twenty-seven, taking Justin into her childhood bed would be when she finally became a woman.

She paused at the window as she picked up a bra and a blouse that had landed there rather than going into the wash as they should have. No time now.

Down on the street below, the groups had s.h.i.+fted. Mama and Joe were home from the shop. Marta arrived from a rehearsal in a short yellow dress that offset her flash of red hair. It was a regular Moretti convention down there on the sidewalk. They had all gathered and were obviously waiting for her and Justin's departure. But he and Papa stood off to the side, apparently having a serious conversation.