The Danforths: Marc, Tanya & Abe: The Laws of Passion / Terms of Surrender / Shocking the Senator

And secondly, Dana vowed to be the one to bring Marc back into the world of caring relationships between a man and a woman. She had absolutely no experience with such things, of course. But she sure as hell could give it her best shot. For a man who simply oozed sexual energy, he’d been celibate long enough.

She refused to consider that maybe she wanted to explore their relationship for purely selfish reasons. No. It was much easier to tell herself she was doing this to save a good and kindhearted soul from his lonely and isolated life.

If Marc wanted her the way he said he did, then she would be the first woman to let him know he was still a desirable man. A desirable man who didn’t need a woman that came with an ugly background and no class. A woman like her.

Anyway, she knew the two of them would never be able to forge a lasting relationship. She was sure that Marc saw that as well as she did.

So she just must be the right one to bring him back his sexuality. Because of their wide differences, he wouldn’t feel like he was obligated to her in any way. That should make things easier on him. He’d be free to make love to her and then go back to his life when she moved on with hers.

Yes. That was a sensible solution. It was a nice thing to do for a decent but terribly injured man.

Dana wasn’t entirely positive she could become enough of a vamp to make him forget his past. But at the very least she had to try to help him heal. Knowing next to nothing about sexual things didn’t matter when it came to Marc.

If she had anything to say about it, their pretend love affair was about to become very real.

“It’s almost dawn,” she told him softly. “We’d better get out of here before the neighborhood begins to wake up and we’re spotted.” She gathered the coffee mugs and folded the blanket that she’d spread out for them to sit upon.

“No one showed up last night,” he grumbled.

“No. I’m afraid most surveillance is like that. Hours and days of boredom punctuated by a few minutes of sheer terror.”

“Can we try again tonight?”

She cocked her head to study him in the gray light. “It might be better if we got another team from the FBI’s new task force to take over the watch every other night.”

He closed his eyes and made an effort to keep his voice low. “I have to do something, Dana. I can’t…I can’t just sit around waiting for someone else to save me.”

“We’ll keep you involved. I promise.” She led the way to the back of the building. “Are you hungry? Sleepy? Need a shower?”

Marc stepped through the alley entrance and secured the door behind him. What was he besides being frustrated, he wondered?

Dana moved to the driver’s side of her FBI-issued car and unlocked the doors.

“I’m just great thanks, Miss Mother Hen,” he lied.

How had his life gotten so messed up? Feeling as helpless as he had when his mother died, he tried to think of what had worked back then that helped make him feel stronger? He’d only been a baby really, but he remembered that something had calmed him. What had it been?

He thought about his older brothers, misbehaving to act out their grief and frustration at not understanding their mother’s death. But how had he managed?

It suddenly hit him. “Dana, have you ever seen the sun come up over the Atlantic?”

“What?”

Smiling, he buckled himself into the passenger seat beside her. “I suppose you have. But you’ve never seen it the way it is from Crofthaven. That’s what I want to do. Do you mind?”

“What?”

“I want to go watch the sun come up from the private cove at Crofthaven. Okay?”

“Well, I guess so. We won’t wake up or disturb anyone, will we?”

“There isn’t anyone staying at the house now except the servants. Dad’s on his campaign trip. In fact, it’s the best place I know of to hide out. To think.”

“Okay then,” she grinned. “But I’d rather that you try to relax enough to get some sleep. You haven’t had a lot of rest lately.”

Sleep was the last thing on his mind by the time they passed through the gardener’s gate and turned away from the main house toward the ocean. He was thrilled and excited to be going back to his childhood hidey-hole.

The midnight blue skies were just beginning to give way to streaks of rose and gold. A few storm clouds were out on the horizon. But that usually made for a great sunrise.

He directed Dana to park under a stand of salt pines, and led her down the rocky path between rows of sea grape and sand dunes. Marc hadn’t been down to the beach in years. Hadn’t managed to think of it much lately at all.

The smell of bracing salt air brought back pleasant memories of laying in the hot sand and playing in the light surf with his brothers and cousins. There weren’t any bad ghosts here. No bad vibes to be heard over the screams of the gulls. Nothing here but the echoes of good times, roaring in his mind like the phantom sounds of waves when you put a conch shell to your ear.

“Oh it’s lovely,” Dana said when she stood at the water’s edge. “Is it low tide?”

He shrugged. “Don’t know. But we’ll sit back a little ways, just in case.”

Dana snapped her fingers. “The blanket. We need the blanket to sit in the sand. I’ll go get it from the trunk.” She turned and scurried back up the dunes toward the pines and her car.

Marc stood there watching her go, enthralled with the carefree way she moved. Her long hair swung wildly down her back, drawing attention to the curve of her hips.

He didn’t feel much like himself all of a sudden. Maybe it was because he’d finally gotten that nasty story of last year’s betrayal off his chest. He hadn’t told the whole story to anyone before Dana, and saying it out loud made it seem more silly than despicable.

What he hadn’t told Dana was that the more he thought about Alicia making it with Ben, the more he’d come to the conclusion that he hadn’t really loved her in the first place. And wasn’t it true that no relationship problem was all one-sided? He’d been so wrapped up in his new projects that he’d probably been ignoring Alicia’s needs.

By now, he’d come around to deciding that he was grateful to Alicia for giving him a good excuse to end the engagement. But he wasn’t exactly ready to forgive and forget where his old buddy was concerned. Ben’s betrayal was the one spot that would remain sore for a long while.

Dana waved to him from the top of a dune and started down the path, bringing him back to the present. The sun was just beginning to climb over the bank of clouds on the eastern horizon, and the peachy-colored rays lit up the beach with a rosy glow. As he watched, the light shone on her face and turned her skin to amber.

God, she was beautiful. As she bounced down the path, she looked like a Gypsy with those big brown eyes, amber skin and those ebony curls making a halo around her head. She’d been so easy to talk to. He wasn’t sorry that he’d told her the whole story.

As he helped her spread the blanket over the sand, Marc had a great sense of well-being. He remembered his grandmother saying that everything happened for a reason. Maybe he was the Danforth who was meant to be involved with the cartel so that the fates could bring him Dana. And maybe she was meant to be the FBI agent assigned to him so that she could bring him peace of mind.

It all sounded quite rational in his hypersensitive and exhausted brain.

Dana settled on the blanket, sitting cross-legged and focusing her gaze to the east and the rising sun. He kicked off his shoes and socks and sat on the blanket too. For fifteen minutes they sat quietly watching the sun cast a pinkish hue across the waves.

“Why don’t you take off your shoes and get comfortable?” he asked her. The sun was warming the sand and he dug his toes in it like he had as a kid.

“Are you relaxing?” Dana took off her shoes and socks and laughed as she wiggled her toes.

“I’m getting there.”

“Good.” She shrugged out of her jacket and removed her gun from its holster. “I think it would be great if you could manage a short nap. You need rest in order to concentrate. I had a boss once that insisted all agents in his section stop work and get at least seven hours of sleep a day. He said the worst thing you could do for your health was to not get enough sleep.”

“But you don’t sleep that long.”

“No,” she agreed. “I’ve never needed that much sleep all at one time…high metabolism…I guess. But I do try to catch a couple of naps during the day. It clears my head. Why don’t you try it?”

She checked the safety on her gun and placed it and the holster under the far corner of the blanket. “We won’t be disturbed here, will we?” she asked, rolling up her jeans.

“No. This place is a private cove and totally out of the way. No one ever comes down here.”

Marc was fascinated by her. Every action was liquid and smooth. He took off his jacket and decided it had grown warm enough to take off his pullover shirt, as well. Rolling them up, he bunched and stuffed the roll under his head as he lay on his back on the blanket.

He looked up at the puffy white-and-gray clouds in the sky and heard Dana sigh. He was afraid to glance over at her. Afraid that his desire would show too clearly if he looked at her now. And he’d promised himself that he wouldn’t rush her. After all, she’d said she was here to work and not for play.

Resolutely, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath of salty air. It would probably rain later, he thought. This time of year the clouds came up off the ocean and soft fall showers cooled off the warm, sticky days.

For a few minutes he tried to clear his mind and rest. But knowing Dana sat that close to him was a fact impossible to ignore—and it was beginning to make him sweat.

Finally, he turned on his side and propped himself up on one arm so he could look at her. She lay on her side facing him, eyes closed and her head resting on one arm. What a gorgeous picture she made.

Her coloring was the thing that riveted him. The golden skin and black hair. It was so unlike Alicia’s blond blue-eyed elegance that he felt as though he was facing a children’s action figure.

Dana was strong and focused, just like one of those children’s heroines. The power of her personality drew him, even while she napped.

Silky black curls drooped over her cheek and curled seductively around her slender neck. The V neck of her T-shirt revealed the curve of one silky breast. He had to take a deep, big breath to continue lying still beside her.

Though it had been over a year since he’d felt the weight of a woman’s breast in his hand, a man just couldn’t forget such a thing. His body responded to the sight of hers with predictable results. He had to grit his teeth against the growing hardness of his muscles.

He forced his eyes to move on with their perusal, glancing down to the dip of her waist, the round hips that led to the impossibly long legs. A vision of those legs wrapped tightly around him brought his attention sharply back to her upper body. Lord, but he was longing to find satisfaction in that sweet body.

When his gaze ricocheted back to her nubby-tipped breasts, he noticed that he could see the hardened peaks distinctly through the material of her shirt. He shot a glance to her face, chagrined to discover she was staring at him with heavy-lidded awareness. She never moved, but held him with her steady gaze nonetheless.

An intense wave of yearning flooded his senses, shooting heated blood to his thighs, hands and chest. “I…I’m…I was just…”

She pressed her fingers to his lips. “Don’t explain. I like it when you look at me.”

He could feel his heart hammering to a thick and aroused beat. “I thought you said you didn’t want…” He cleared his throat and tried again. “But…”

“I know what I said.” Her dark, sultry eyes held his, while she tentatively lowered her hand to touch his chest. “But you’ve changed my mind for me. I’ve been wanting to touch you since the first moment I laid eyes on you.” She drew circles in his chest hair with her fingers, lingering over his nipples and then trailing down to his waist.

Every nerve in his body was alive with feeling. He moved his hand to her cheek, drew aside a soft curl and tucked it behind her ear. But then that wayward hand refused to turn away from the softness of her skin, the line of her jaw.

He didn’t know what had prompted her sudden change of heart about them, but he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity.

He let his fingers linger on the velvet of her skin for a moment more, then let them skip lightly down her neck and farther, to the pulse beat at the base. She closed her eyes, afraid to let her vulnerability shine through.

Her full, rosy lips were parted ever so slightly. The restless way she arched her back made him positive that she was feeling the same things he was. She couldn’t hide from him. Not her vulnerability—nor her sensuality.

Swaying toward her, he felt dizzy and lost. He leaned over and gently brushed his mouth across hers. Just the lightest touch of lips was all he’d meant to do. But the velvety smooth pleasure of her mouth and the small, soft noise she made left his brain stuttering and stunned.

He took her chin with one hand and let himself sink deeply into the seduction of her mouth. She tasted of the ocean and the sky, of all the earthy and sensual things he’d ever loved.

He kissed her…and kissed her. The moist heat bubbled up between them just as the sweat beaded across the small of his back. Pulling them both to sitting positions, she threw her arms around his neck and pressed herself tightly against his chest.

“Let me touch you,” he said against her lips. Rubbing his hands up and down her spine, he felt her shirt sliding over her skin.

She pushed back slightly and settled herself on her bottom. “You’re sure this place is private?” she asked with a groggy and heavily impassioned rasp in her voice.

“Positive.” He didn’t waste a split second with dragging her shirt over her head. Taking in the full view of her, he groaned. “You are so beautiful.”

A sheer white bra covered her full breasts. But not so much that it hid the darkened nipples, puckered and hard beneath his hungry gaze. Paralyzed with need, he sat frozen and stared at the tantalizing sight.

“Marc, please,” she moaned. But before he could move to please himself, Dana took his hands and drew them to her breasts. “Touch me,” she begged.

He traced the dusky outline of her nipples with his thumbs, but kept his eyes trained on hers. Using the pads of his fingers, he traced around the edges of the bra and watched her pupils dilate. He wanted to go slow. Wanted to savor the flush of desire he saw on her face.

Honestly he did. But she was affecting him on a level no woman had ever reached before, and he wanted to know why. Why was this so different? Why couldn’t he think past the erotic longings?

“You want more?” he gasped.

She nodded, but kept her gaze steady.

He reached around her back and unsnapped the bra. Then edged his fingers beneath the straps and tormented them both by gliding those straps down her shoulders in a slow, playful slide. She jerked her arms free and he let the bra float away.

Once again he had to take a breath at the sheer beauty of her body. He kept his arms at his side and looked his fill. She eventually moved to cover herself, but he grabbed her wrists and held her arms at her side.

“Part of the fun is looking, Dana. Don’t hide from me. I love your body.” He cupped her breasts with his palms and bent his head to pull one nipple between his lips, lapping her sensitive skin with his tongue. “Looking. Touching. Tasting. It’s all naturally designed to make you feel good,” he whispered against her skin.

He blew a hot breath across the tip of her breast, then nipped it with his teeth. She arched her back again and writhed as he tugged at her breast more insistently.

Looking up into her face, he saw her nostrils flare, her lips part and her eyes flame with desire. She gripped his shoulders and dug her nails into his skin. The sensation threw him into an excruciatingly sexual arousal and blinded him with a blue haze of need.

Gasping for air, he pushed her backward, shifted his hands to her wrists and pulled them over her head. A kind of madness filled him. A madness born from her strong nature and from his year of celibacy.

He shoved a thigh between her legs and opened his mouth on her throat. Sucking her tender skin, he licked his way down the curve of her breast and flicked his tongue lightly over the sensitive skin.

She arched against him, bucking her hips and straining against his hold on her wrists. Oh, but the taste of her was more than he bargained for. He feasted on the sweet, salty and decadent pleasures.

Running the flat of his tongue around her belly button, he sucked, lathed and nipped with abandon. When Marc ran into the waistband of her jeans, he opened the zipper with a quick rip before either one of them could think about it, dragging the denim down over her hips and pitching it over his shoulder.

He was lost in her softness. In the little cotton and lace panties she wore and the quiver she made when he covered her mound with his mouth. Kissing his way down one thigh and back up the other, he delighted in her strangled cries and the dampness at the juncture of her legs.

Clutching at his hair, she tugged him back up her body and kissed him with a violent need. Marc loved that she seemed as frantic as he was. Dana, the tough FBI agent, desperate and wild with passion for him.

He was helpless to do anything else but meet her demand for demand. When she reached for his zipper with trembling hands, he helped her by shifting to rid himself of the clothing. Then he straddled her hips, bending over to take her breast into his mouth one more time.

Her eyes grew suddenly wide and she reached for his rigid sex. She touched the tip, running her finger down the smooth shaft with pleasure. A bead of moisture erupted under her touch and he had to move away from her before he lost it altogether.

Reaching out to him with both arms wide, she writhed and moaned. “Please, Marc. Please.”

He took the invitation, pulling her panties off with abandon. She spread her legs and he touched her intimately, judging her readiness. Hot. Wet. And inviting.

Her hands moved over his chest, finding his nipples and running over his muscles. Bracing himself with one arm, he urgently caught her buttocks with the other hand and lifted her hips toward him. At last. He entered her on an agonizingly slow slide, while a shudder tore through him at the tight, perfect pleasure of it.

Dana tensed against him. And it suddenly hit him that she was too tight, too tense.

He stopped, lifting his head to question her. “You’re not a virgin. That can’t be.” He moaned with the shock of it and tried to gather his badly scattered wits.

“Please, Marc. I need you,” she demanded with passion.

That simple but frantic plea might not have been enough to send him over the edge of reason. But then she wound her legs tightly around his waist, gripped him internally and arched once more, sending him spiraling deeper into her glorious warmth.

He found himself in a maze of heat and pulsing passion. With Dana swirling all around him—whimpering, begging, squirming under him.

“I…I can’t…” Her sobs were those of a woman who was completely out of her element and didn’t quite know…

He reached between them, flicked a finger over her center and dove into welcoming depths. Her cry was savage and feral as she shuddered around him. She dug her nails into his arms and bit his neck as her body continued to quake and jolt.

Marc loved the frantic joy in her voice, the ferocious animal-like movements she made. He pulled her up tight, thrusting violently—until he, too, let go. Until the world and all its problems were nothing more than dim memories. Until he and Dana were the only souls left on the face of the earth.

Throwing his head back, he howled with the welcome of his release—the passionate proof of his desire.

Eight

W hat have I done ?

Dana couldn’t catch her breath while her heart still hammered in her chest. It’d just hit her that making love with Marc was the most powerful…the most startlingly beautiful experience of her entire lifetime.

He pressed a kiss against her neck. A gentle kiss, it was filled with a tenderness that was threatening to break her heart.

In her head the whole thing had been way over the top. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Probably thousands of women lost their virginity every day. They couldn’t all feel this same stupendous surge of…of…power. That was the only word Dana could think of that explained what she’d felt—was still feeling.

Marc had been crazy with his need for her. When she’d hesitated or when she begged for more, he complied with her every wish. She’d been the boss, the one in control. And he’d been the one to show her what her body was capable of feeling.

As if he sensed her disquiet, Marc lifted his upper body, leaning on his elbows above her. “Dana,” he groaned. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, but had the feeling she wasn’t going to like having any conversation with him right now. His tone of voice sounded guilty and full of regret. Dana wasn’t in the mood.

“You were a virgin.” He blurted it out as if it were an accusation—not like the statement of fact it was.

“True,” she admitted. “But just leave it be. We don’t have to talk. It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.” He idly stroked his hand along her shoulder and down her arm. “You’re so…sexy…sensual.”

The blazing morning sun made the red highlights in his brown hair gleam, sparkling like the glassy reflections off the top of the ocean’s waves. He was so good-looking she nearly cried just staring up at him.

“Thank you. So are you,” she managed on a half-choke.

His expression turned grave. “Oh hell, Dana. I thought since you weren’t a schoolgirl—and you’re an FBI agent, after all.” He looked so exasperated and so adorable. “I was too rough…and I forgot to use any protection…and I didn’t use my head at all.”

He bent and murmured against her lips. “Forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive.” She tried to choose her words carefully. “Where I grew up, sex was a dirty word. If a girl was easy, she was just as likely to get gang raped as she was to snare a boyfriend. So, very early on I made a vow not to let any boy talk me out of my virginity…to become tough enough to fight my way out of potential hot spots. I learned to fight…not make love.”

Dana twisted so she could look up into his eyes. “By the time I entered Quantico for training, the idea of being the world’s oldest virgin was too humiliating to contemplate. I didn’t dare date anyone who might tell the others. I just pretended that I had a boyfriend who lived out of town, and stayed to myself on off hours.”

She swallowed and continued. “But this morning I wanted to be with you. When I saw you looking at me with that…desperation…and desire in your eyes, I wanted you to be the one. I gave myself permission to take what was offered—for the first time in my life.” Touching the tip of his beautiful Roman nose, she let her finger wander down to trace the line of his lips. “And you were worth waiting for.”

“Dana…” He sucked her finger into his mouth and pressed his body hard against hers, his chest brushing her breasts and their hips jamming together. “I thought I’d never make love to another woman. Just the idea of it seemed totally impossible after last year. But then suddenly—I was desperate for you. I’m still desperate for you.”

Marc kissed her with a fierceness that stirred her soul, drinking from her lips as if she were his first sip of water after an impossibly long thirst. “I want more. Again and again,” he groaned against her lips.