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was in trouble. Remembering Irina’s mouth, the full, lush curves of her body, the practiced touch of her hand, she realized that so was Mitch.

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CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Sunday, Evening

At the sound of the front door opening, Catherine looked up from the couch where she sat reading the Sunday papers.

Rebecca walked in, wearing the same clothes she’d left the house in nearly twenty-four hours before. Always pale, her skin now appeared nearly translucent, with a faint tinge of bluish gray shadowing her high cheekbones and deep-set eyes. Catherine had seen her fatigued many times before. She’d seen her Þ ght for life in a hospital bed. She knew what her lover looked like when she was nearing the end of her reserves, but this time, in addition to weariness, there was something else in Rebecca’s eyes. Some pain that Catherine was surprised Rebecca allowed to surface within sight of anyone else. She patted the sofa next to her.

“Come sit down. You look tired.”

Grimacing, Rebecca shrugged out of her blazer and dropped it on a nearby chair. With one hand she released the buckle on the strap beneath her right arm that secured her holstered weapon beneath her left breast. This, too, she shed with a practiced motion and let it settle atop the rumpled jacket. With a sigh, she sank down beside Catherine, where she leaned her head back and stretched her long legs out in front of her. With one hand, she groped for Catherine’s, and Þ nding it, closed her Þ ngers around her lover’s. “Hi.”

“Hello.” Catherine angled her body and drew Rebecca’s head down against her shoulder. “Are you in for the night?”

“I wish,” Rebecca mumbled, closing her eyes.

Catherine stroked Rebecca’s hair, then the back of her neck, eliciting a soft groan. These were the moments that were hardest for her, when what she wanted most was to hold Rebecca for hours, keeping her close, restoring them both as only this quiet connection could. Instead, she needed to prepare herself for Rebecca leaving once

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again on the most dangerous kind of assignment she could undertake.

Undercover operations, as Catherine had come to learn, were notoriously unpredictable. The last one had ended with Dellon nearly bleeding to death from a stab wound. And now another night loomed when she would not know where her lover was, what danger she might be in, or what harm might already have befallen her. The ringing of the phone in the middle of those dark, lonely nights was like a death knell. She tightened her hold on Rebecca and rested her cheek against the top of the blond head.

“What’s wrong?” Rebecca murmured.

For an instant, Catherine hesitated, then realized that she could not expect Rebecca to share her uncertainties if she herself did not.

“Missing you, a little bit.”

“I’m sorry,” Rebecca said immediately, starting to straighten.

“No.” Catherine held her fast. “I don’t want you to be sorry. It’s not something for you to Þ x, darling. It’s just the way I feel.” She looked down to see Rebecca searching her face with worried eyes. She slanted her mouth across Rebecca’s, kissing her hard. She felt the instant when Rebecca’s tired body came to life, the faint tightening of her limbs, the sudden quivering of the muscles beneath her hands. Easing away from the kiss, she laughed softly. “That wasn’t exactly what I meant I was missing, but that’s part of it.”

“I’ve got six or seven hours, at least,” Rebecca responded, her voice already rough with desire.

“When you should be sleeping.”

“It’s not sleep I need. It’s just you. Just you.”

Catherine’s lips parted in soft surprise as her heart melted. “Why, when I know that you love me, does hearing you say it always make me weak with wanting?”

Rebecca grinned, her eyes alive again. “I pick my moments.”

“Your timing always has been excellent,” Catherine murmured.

There were things she wanted to say, things she wanted to ask, but those things could wait until they both took what they needed from one another. She smoothed her hand down the front of Rebecca’s shirt until she reached the slender belt that encircled her waist. As she found Rebecca’s mouth again, she slipped the thin leather through the small silver buckle and then moved on to the clasp and zipper beneath. As she licked her way into Rebecca’s mouth, her hand followed a similar path

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into the secret pleasures between Rebecca’s thighs. Rebecca moaned and sucked on her tongue, the unexpected sensation igniting the inferno that lay in wait deep inside. Waiting only for this one woman’s touch.

“Oh God,” Catherine breathed, breaking the kiss. “Here. Right here. Right now. Take your clothes off, darling.”

Rebecca leapt to her feet, already pulling loose the buttons on her shirt as Catherine wrenched off her own top, exposing her bare breasts.

Trousers followed shirt, underwear fell into the heap, and in another second, Rebecca lay between Catherine’s legs. She brought her mouth down hard on Catherine’s, sliding inside, slicking her way through the heat, probing deeply before she pushed herself up on her arms and stared desperately into Catherine’s eyes. “Don’t tell me you want to go slow. Please.”

Catherine braced both hands on Rebecca’s shoulders and pushed downward. “No. No. Hurry.”

Then Rebecca was between her thighs and Catherine arched as hot mouth met hot ß esh and she felt herself drawn into the cauldron of Rebecca’s desire. Blindly, she sought an anchor, Þ nding Rebecca’s shoulder and digging her Þ ngers into muscles tight as steel when teeth closed around the stiff, aching prominence of her clitoris. Her eyes went blind and her throat closed on a scream as passion erupted deep inside. She fought against the Þ rst wave of orgasm, wanting the urgency to build, delirious with the exquisite pleasure. When Rebecca’s tongue swept the length of her, then beat against her clitoris with a steady insistent rhythm, she lost the battle. Her breasts swelled, her belly spasmed, and sweet release eclipsed will. She found the back of Rebecca’s head with one hand and held Rebecca’s mouth against her as the climax poured forth.

“Don’t make yourself come,” Catherine gasped, still coming herself. “I want you in my mouth.”

Rebecca shuddered, desperate to come, but loath to separate from Catherine’s still-pulsing sex. She held off another few seconds until need overpowered all else, and then she reared up to straddle Catherine’s body. She gave a hoarse cry as Catherine’s hands clenched on her buttocks and Catherine’s mouth drove against her clitoris. Too close to orgasm to control her muscles, she fell forward and barely managed to brace herself with one arm against the sofa. Still, Catherine’s mouth never left her, sucking and tugging on her, driving her mad.

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“Oh Jesus, you’re going to make me come,” Rebecca groaned.

Nearly deaf with the roar of blood in her head, she barely registered Catherine’s exultant cries. She was coming, bucking and thrusting and shouting out her inÞ nite gratitude. Then she was falling, helpless and weak, and Catherine was there to catch her.

“I love you, oh, I love you,” Catherine murmured over and over, curled around Rebecca’s trembling form. “You’re in my blood, right down to the heart of me.”

“Love you too,” Rebecca muttered, struggling for breath.

Catherine laughed softly, searching on the back of the sofa for the light throw she kept there for when the evenings turned cool. She pulled it down over them and settled more comfortably on her back with Rebecca’s head nestled against her shoulder. It wasn’t their usual position, and she liked being the one to offer shelter. “Okay?”

“Oh yeah,” Rebecca sighed. “DeÞ nitely okay.”

After waiting another few moments for Rebecca’s heartbeat to slowly settle, Catherine asked quietly, “Why do you have to go out later?”

“Mitchell’s going back to Ziggie’s. Watts and I will back up again.”

Remembering the haunted look in Rebecca’s eyes when she’d Þ rst returned home, Catherine knew there was more. “You’ve learned something.”

Rebecca shifted slightly and opened her eyes to stare up at the ceiling. “Mitchell did, really. She thinks, and I agree with her, that most of the girls involved in the sex videos—and probably working a fair number of the strip clubs in the city—have been smuggled in on ships from Russia.”

“Oh my God.” Catherine turned on her side so that she was facing Rebecca, wanting to see her face. “Is that what this is all about?”

Rebecca nodded and gave her a quick summary of Mitchell’s theories. As Rebecca spoke, Catherine listened and watched. She saw the faint ß icker of Rebecca’s pupils when she talked about Trudy, heard the barest deepening of her voice that only hinted at the depth of her pain. Oh, you are so very good at hiding your sorrow.

She waited until Rebecca fell silent, until the story had been told.

Then she pressed her Þ ngertips to Rebecca’s mouth, brushing over her lips, cupping her jaw. “I’m so very sorry about Trudy, darling.”

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“Out of all of that,” Rebecca said quietly, “that’s the thing you found to talk about.”

Catherine smiled gently. “That’s the thing that hurts you most.”

Rebecca rested her forehead against Catherine’s and closed her eyes. “If she hadn’t taken Sandy to that meeting, if she hadn’t gone to that building to shoot that Þ lm, if she hadn’t been unknowingly part of my operation, she’d still be alive.”

“I’m not telling you not to care, darling. I’m not even telling you not to accept responsibility, although I don’t believe it’s all yours to bear.” Catherine stroked down Rebecca’s arm and clasped her Þ ngers.