Paula Graves - Forbidden Touch

The combination of pain and nerves made her head feel fuzzy. She leaned forward in her chair, dipping her head closer to her knees to fight off dizziness. Her whole body started to tingle as if her limbs were falling asleep, the feeling electric, disconcerting and invasive.

"Miss Browning?" An accented voice filtered through the white noise rushing through her head. She forced herself to sit up and open her eyes.

A tall, slender man in a gray tweed jacket stood before her, his ice-blue eyes fixed on her face. One eyelid twitched sporadically, the haphazard cadence mesmerizing. Strong Slavic features under a thatch of hay-colored hair hinted at his ancestry, and Iris knew, instinctively, she was looking at Dr.Boris Grinkov.

The view from the balcony of Iris Browning's room at the Princeton Hotel was hardly the stuff of picture postcards, Maddox thought. The street below was dusty and crowded with tourists emerging to enjoy the late afternoon sunshine. The faded storefronts were quaint and shabby, the sandstone facades crumbling in places. The store owners would get around to repairs when tourist season began to die down. Maybe.

He walked back into the room, closing the balcony doors behind him to shut out the street sounds. The silence closed around him like a shroud, making it hard to breathe as he sat on the edge of Iris's bed.

Getting into her room had been dishearteningly easy. The right story to a sympathetic ear was all it took. If Tahir Mahmoud hired a local with the right contacts to do his dirty work, Iris could easily be dead before anyone could stop it.

He closed his eyes. Images filled the darkness, painted in vivid colors across his memory. Teresa Miles, struggling against the black clad arm that held her prisoner. Her blue eyes staring right into Maddox's where he hid with the others under his guard, he was helpless to stop what happened next.

The flash of steel as the knife whipped up to Teresa's throat-

"What are you doing here?"

He snapped his eyes open, nausea writhing like snakes inside him. Iris stood in the door way, as pale as death.

He pushed himself up from the edge of her bed, his planned safety lecture forgotten. "Are you okay?"

She looked away from him, but her fingers tightened around the door frame. "I'm fine."

"No you're not." he realized.

He reached her side, lifting his hand to her cheek. She felt cold. Dark circles bruised the skin under her eyes, and her lips were bloodless. She swayed into his touch, and he caught her before she fell. He lifted her into his arms, alarmed at how fragile she felt, and carried her to the bed. He laid her atop the comforter and sat next to her, pushing her tousled hair away from her forehead.

"Oh baby, what happened?"

She told him about the server's accident and what she'd done. "I got what I wanted. Grinkov's attention."

Maddox put his hand over her lips. "Shh. We can talk about this in a few minutes. You're about to pass out on me here. Have you eaten anything since breakfast?"

A wry expression flitted over her face. "I never had breakfast, remember? You kicked me out before we ate."

Guilt burned a hole in his gut. He dialed the room service number posted by the phone and ordered an omelet and toast.

"I'm not hungry." she protested, struggling to a sitting position.

"Too bad, because you're eating something anyway." He cupped her chin in his palm, sliding his thumb over her bottom lip. "Still in pain?"

Her eyes fluttered closed, her lip trembling beneath his touch. She shook her head. Desire jolted through him, fierce and unbidden. He dropped his hand quickly and started to get up, but her hand closed around his arm, her grip stronger than he expected.

"Don't go." she said softly.

He met her gaze, his heart pounding. "Iris-"

"Stay with me." she said.

Resistance melting, he settled back on the bed, his hip against hers. He took her hand in his, 'What am I going to do with you, baby?"

"What do you want to do with me?" she asked, her gaze unflinching.

His heart rate ramped up to a gallop, "Sugar, you're in no condition for what I want to do with you."

Her lips curved, and she released a soft laugh. "Maybe after the omelet."

He laughed, surprised at the devilish gleam in her dark eyes. "You're full of surprises, sugar."

She twined her fingers through his. "That's a good thing, isn't it?"

He nodded, lifting her hand to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss on her knuckles, "It is."

"Do you want to hear about my meeting with Grinkov?"

A dark thread of anger weaved its way into him, but he tamped it down. "Yes, I do."

"Dr.Grinkov invited me to join the focus group"

Apprehension coiled in Maddox's belly. "When?"

"Tomorrow morning." she said.

"I don't want you to go." Maddox said quietly.

Iris looked up from the half-eaten omelet. "I have to go."

He shook his head, settling on the side of the bed beside her. "Quinn can find someone else. Look at you." He gestured at the fork trembling in her hand. "You need to rest."

Frowning, she laid the fork on her food tray and tucked her hand in her lap. "I'm fine. The shower helped. I just shouldn't have gone so long without eating."

His voice roughened. "I don't want to find you washed up on the beach in a day or two."

"Celia was a fake." she protested. "I'm not. I can do what they want me to do. They need me."

"You don't know what they want."

He touched her knee, the warmth of his touch seeping through the silk robe making her acutely aware of the fact that, other than her robe and a pair of panties, she was naked. Her sudden awareness of him almost eclipsed the anxiety pouring into her from his gentle touch.

She closed her hand over his. "I know you're afraid for me. I appreciate it more than you know. I'd feel very alone right now if you weren't here."

He cradled her hand between his palms. "I talked to Darcy today. The tampering with the surveillance tape at the Hotel St.George looks like an inside job. And that same company provides security here at the Princeton." He lowered his voice a notch to a rough growl. "It took me less than a minute to talk my way in here, Iris. If I can do it-"

She squeezed his hand. "Stop trying to scare me."

"You need to know what kind of people you're dealing with."

A ripple of terror washed through her from where his hands cradled hers. He snared her gaze with his, leaving her with no doubt he intended for her to feel everything he was sharing with her through his touch.

"Stop." she choked, tugging her hand away.

He let her go. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to hurt you."

She cradled her hand to her chest, fear still churning inside. "Are you sure about that?"

He brushed her jaw with his fingertips. The touch was light, soothing and free of pain, though it evoked a twisting sensation in the center of her chest. "I'm sure."

The low nimble of his voice sent tremors up her spine. Need coiled into a tight knot. She reached for her fork, trying to distract herself from the onslaught of desire, unsure what part of the sensations were coming from Maddox and what was hers alone.

He retreated from the bed and stood by the balcony doors leaving her to finish the omelet and toast in silence. But his emotions filled the room like white noise, buzzing through her brain as she washed down dinner with a glass of orange juice.

When she was finished, she broke the silence. "Why did you really come here?"

"I told you, sugar. You're not safe."

"And that's all?" She started to put the empty tray on the bedside table, but he intercepted it, taking it from her hands.

He put the tray outside the hotel room door for room service to retrieve and turned back to her. "I let you down this morning. I want to make that up to you."