Good Deed Bad Deed, Marcia Morgan [summer beach reads TXT] 📗

field. He gently moved her arms away from his body and turned to face her. She didn’t say a word, just looked up, stood on her tiptoes and planted a soft kiss on each bristly cheek. With a weary sigh he pulled her closer, wrapped her in his arms and kissed her, once softly then again with an open hungry mouth. They seemed to suspend breathing while one kiss flowed into the next. Ben was unaware that he was backing Ana toward the bed. When her legs touched the edge, she dropped to a sitting position and fell back, her heart beginning to pound in her chest as she focused on Ben standing over her.

He looked down with eyes that seemed to ask if this was the moment, if more was going to happen between them again—right now—finally. Ana read his expression, and although she wanted nothing more than to make love to him, she said, almost pleading, “Oh Ben, not like this.” Most likely it wasn’t Ben’s desire she was trying to control. It was her own. He backed away and ran his fingers through his hair self-consciously. She wanted to reassure him. “I want what you want, but it feels selfish and won’t make the right kind of memory.”

Ben shook his head in frustration and said, “I know. I know. This is like being in a special kind of jail—convicted for lust.”

She smiled and made a face that put down his sense of humor on the subject. She reached out her arms and he pulled her up into another embrace. With her face against his chest she said, “We’re both tired. But in spite of that, after what just started I know we need to be in separate beds tonight—with a door between us.”

“God, I don’t know what I was thinking. Olivia and Valerie are in trouble, and here I am fighting a strong urge to take you to bed.”

“We’re both looking for an escape—a distraction from the anxiety.” She paused then drew him to her gaze. “And we both have tension to release.”

The desire in Ben’s expression burned through her as he said, “You have no idea.”

He held her tightly, pressing his face against her neck, inhaling her scent before slowly tracing his lips upward to her eager mouth. When the kiss ended they abruptly pulled away from each other, struggling to let the moment go. Ben held her at arm’s length and locked eyes with her. A palpable energy surrounded them as they fought for control. It was Ana who finally broke the spell. She gently kissed his cheek and said good night, but not before reminding him to wake her when he got up in the morning. She turned away and went through to her room, closing the adjoining door. He listened for the lock to be turned, but heard nothing. At this point he was more tired than hungry for sex, and the fatigue helped sublimate his desire. He shed his clothes, took a fast shower and slid into bed. After setting the alarm on his phone, he turned off the light and gave in to the stress of the day, the exhaustion that would shelter him from worry about what was to come.

The same scenario played out on the other side of the door. Ana fell into a deep sleep, visited by dreams of being in Ben’s arms, sharing passion seemingly too real to be a dream. Yet an unseen force soon pulls him away from her. She senses danger but cannot move to help him, as he is drawn further and further out of reach. In the wee hours she lay awake, disturbed and fearful of sleep that could take her back to what could even be a premonition.

Ana knew that given a choice Ben would leave her behind when morning came. He didn’t need the responsibility of her safety along with what he could be facing. She knew that without a gun he had no weapon other than his wits, strong emotions and adrenaline. Those intangibles wouldn’t go far if faced down by a gun. Maybe she could help—somehow—and she had seen the address scribbled on the card given him by the cleaning woman. Hopefully it would still be on Ben’s night table in the morning. She promised herself not to get in the way, just to hang back, wait, observe, and have the police number ready on her mobile phone. Once the decision was made to be a part of whatever lay ahead, Ana dosed, not realizing how soon dawn would come.

* * *

Ben was awake before the alarm on his watch had a chance to rouse him. He went to the window and looked out onto the plaza, his apprehension giving way to resolve. The sky at first light changed slowly from gray to a muted coral and promised a scorching day ahead. In the distance, toward the hills, a ridge of clouds roiled like tumbling balls of cotton, gathering strength in promise of a cooling afternoon rain. He turned back from the window and walked quietly to the bathroom. After quickly brushing his teeth he splashed water on his face, ignoring the stubble of two days without a shave. His clothes from the previous day lay strewn on the floor, so he just picked them up, eased into the jeans and rumpled shirt then plucked his jacket from the chair. He couldn’t bring himself to leave without laying eyes on Ana one more time, so he approached the adjoining door, the memory of their kisses washing over him. With every swell of desire that had moved them, since that first time, they had stopped, reminding each other to look ahead to the time everything would be resolved, everyone safe. Why had they waited, he wondered? It had come to this: he was unsure it would ever happen again, unsure he would still be alive when the sun set on this day that could bring danger, sorrow or more