The Midnight Hour - Brenda Jackson [83]
From the light shining in the hallway from the kitchen, she could see that it was Drake. She lowered her gun the exact moment he turned and saw her. Their gazes met for the longest time and then he turned back around to gaze out the window. "It's me, so you can go back to bed."
Outwardly, Tori tried not to react to Drake's harsh tone but she did. He was still pissed. But then, so was she.
She drew in a deep breath and smelled his scent from across the room. He was sweaty, hot, musky. He had been engaged in some sort of physical activity. What? Sparring with the devil, she thought as a smile eased on her lips. He was an ace at martial arts. Had he been outside working out, doing a lot of his maneuvers, trying to rid the anger within him? Drake was a unique human being whenever his anger combined with high adrenaline. And if you threw in a dose of sexual frustration, that particular part of him between his legs would swell to gigantic proportion and deliver the best lovemaking possible-as good as it could get.
That thought took over her mind as she stood there, her breasts rising and falling with every breath she took; the area between her legs suddenly feeling hot, wet.
Without saying anything to him, she slipped back into her room and closed the door. Now was not the time for her hormones to start acting crazy. She had gone five years without sex before that night they had spent together on the ship. She placed the pistol back on the nightstand and eased back into bed. She would just love to beat the crap out of Drake, literally pound some sense into that arrogant head of his.
She had called Hawk earlier, after taking her shower and had told him that Drake now knew the truth, and how badly he had taken the news. Hawk felt that eventually Drake would come around and see that every decision that had been made had been for the both of their protection, and that she had not betrayed him as he wanted to believe.
She knew Hawk was right and that Drake was battling shock and denial and she needed to give him time to come to grips with everything.
What had she expected?
As she curled under the covers, she knew exactly what she had expected. It had been a forbidden dream that would creep into her sleep-induced unconsciousness every once in a while. In this dream she would tell Drake the truth, that she was alive, and then he would sweep her off her feet, tell her how much he still loved her and then carry her to the nearest bed and make passionate love to her, wiping out five years of need, separation, and turmoil.
But that was not the way it happened. It hadn't even come close to that.
She heard the sound of water running and knew he was Preparing to take a shower. She tried to remove both him ^d his anger from her mind and discovered that she could not. A part of her resented that he felt that he was the only one who had suffered, and that she had outright betrayed him when she had made the ultimate sacrifices to make sure he was kept safe.
Tori was glad the cabin had two bedrooms and was grateful she'd had the foresight to be ready for bed when he returned. She couldn't deal with him and his anger any more tonight, but she knew that tomorrow they had to talk. She needed to let him know about the CIA's plan to use them as pawns.
Her breath caught when she heard footsteps outside of her door. Moments later Drake moved on. She turned in bed. She would deal with him soon enough in the morning. She knew his anger and he knew hers. But tomorrow, they needed to put their anger aside to deal with the issue of keeping them both alive.
Tori couldn't sleep. She spent her time tossing and turning in the most comfortable bed she had ever slept in. But still she was restless, angry, and even worse, agitated and frustrated.
She eased out of bed, making sure all the buttons on her nightshirt were securely fastened. She wanted to go outside for some fresh air but knew that would not be a good idea.
Deciding it was safer to go into the kitchen