by Roxie Rivera
She wouldn't see the panicked look in his eyes when he heard the sickening snap of the rope and the twang of a carabiner about to give way. The memory of his sweaty hand clutching her calf wouldn't resurface. She wouldn't hear his steady voice as he squeezed her leg. "I love you so much, kiddo. Be brave, Junior."
She squeezed her eyes shut and willed the awful memory of him cutting the rope and sacrificing his life to save hers to go away. She tried not to hear her shriek echoing in the canyon, but that was a sound she would never forget. One word, just one word, that would haunt her forever.
Daddy.
Leland kissed the top of her head, his lips lingering there while he cupped her face and brushed his thumb along the apple of her cheek. She fed off his strength and the security he offered. Earlier, he had admitted to letting his fear of what a relationship with her might mean keep him from going after her. Deep down inside, she understood she hadn't fought for him because he was too much like her father. She had already been left by the only man who had ever loved her unconditionally, albeit in his own strange way. She wasn't sure she had the strength to go through that again.
But the thought of this one night with Leland being the only one ever was too painful to even consider. Like the pulsing certainty of her heartbeat, she believed the connection she shared with Leland was good and true. He was the one for her.
Now she just had to find a way to tell him what she had been up to in Samana Bay. She hoped like hell he wasn't going to blow a gasket when he learned the truth.
Chapter Five
Leland woke with a smile on his face and the warm, soft curves of a woman—his woman—curled up in his arms. He buried his nose in Jamie's hair and inhaled the comforting scent of her. Pulling back, he let his gaze roam her beautiful face in the early morning sunlight. All that time she was spending in the sun and out on the sea had given her skin a bronzed tint that suited her. The dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks enthralled him. For an heiress to a makeup empire, she looked absolutely gorgeous in nothing but her naked skin and the wash of pink morning sun.
Too soon, he would be back on base and then probably shipping out for another tour in some far-flung corner of the planet. He wanted to memorize this moment. Content to simply hold her, he dozed for the next hour or so and considered how they might spend their day. He wouldn't mind wasting the daylight hours right here in bed, but he still needed to find out what had sent Jamie running to the cabin to hide. He would rather not interrogate or upset her in such an intimate setting. They needed to be someplace neutral.
When Jamie finally stirred, he watched her eyes widen with surprise and then she smiled happily and sweetly. "Good morning, Leland."
Nuzzling her nose, he kissed her tenderly. "Morning, sweetheart." He trailed his finger down her cheek and along her jaw. "I thought we might have breakfast and head out to the river. It's not far from the cabin."
"That sounds nice. I'd like that." Like a naughty little sexy kitten, she walked her fingers down his chest until they disappeared under the sheet. "You know what else I'd like?"
He inhaled a shuddery breath as her warm fingers came dangerously close to his morning erection. Her wrist lifted the tented sheet, and she trailed her fingertips down the length of him. He managed to groan out a few words. "I have a pretty good idea."
Loving the sound of her laugh, he rolled her onto her back and climbed over her. He tested his knee to make sure it was all right, and felt no resistance or pain. Happy to be the one taking the lead this morning, he took his time exploring her body. He paid particular attention to her breasts, suckling her with slow, easy tugs of his mouth until her hips were rocking. He slid a hand between her thighs and encountered the rush of wetness that his kisses and caresses had caused.
Watching her face, he ran two fingers through her slit, moving them up and down before settling on the tiny nub hidden there. He swirled his fingers over that spot that made her gasp and nipped at her bottom lip. When he worked two digits inside her, sliding knuckle-deep in her slick heat, she arched off the bed and cried out his name. His thumb moved side to side across her clitoris while his fingers plunged in and out of her. She clawed at his shoulders and begged him for more.
Wanting to come with her, he dragged his fingers from her molten core, wiping that sweet honey on her thigh, and dropped down to kiss her. He pressed her thighs wide open with his hand while ravishing her mouth and thrust home in one swift movement. She moaned and tore away from the kiss, burying her face against his neck. She wound her slim, toned legs around his waist and pulled him in even tighter.
Grinning down at her, he touched their foreheads together while rocking slowly in and out of her. She clenched around his shaft, her slick, tight heat driving him crazy. Monogamy had never been an option for him, but he had always heard it was better this way. He had always been a one-and-done sort of guy. Looking back, he realized it was because of Jamie. He had always wanted her, and only her.
What had started off nice and easy quickly grew frantic as they chased a shared climax. Jamie urged him one with panted whispers and met every forward thrust of his cock with a swivel of her hips. "Don't stop, Leland," she begged, her voice cracking. "Please. Please."
"I know what you need, baby." He supported his body weight on one palm and his good knee and reached down to strum her clit. The pink pearl peeked out from her delicate folds, tempting him for another taste. Later, he promised himself. Rubbing that sensitive nub, he pounded into her. She clutched at his shoulders and the sheets as his cock glided deep and retreated, his pace fast and hard the way she liked it.
With a strangled cry, Jamie shattered. He watched her face with awe. Pupils dilated, cheeks flushed, the slightest hint of sweat along her hairline—she looked wild and wicked, and he utterly adored her. He wanted to burn this vision of her into his retinas so that every time he closed his eyes, he would see Jamie in the throes of passion.
Cupping the back of her neck in one hand and her hip in the other, he stared into her eyes and dragged out his climax. Nothing that felt this good could last forever, but he was damned sure going to try. Her stiff nipples grazed his chest, and she clasped his face between her hands, her mouth hovering right next to his. They didn't have to say a single word to communicate what they were both thinking.
Mine.
The missteps and mistakes of the past no longer mattered. It was this moment, this morning, and this woman—the only woman. With a rush of ecstasy that made his head ache, Leland buried himself as deep as he could and shuddered against Jamie. She embraced him lovingly, petting his neck and kissing his cheek and forehead as the spasms of his climax continued.
Lightheaded, he tucked his face against her throat and breathed in the sweet scent of her. He had promised her breakfast and a trip to the river, but he found he couldn't get his limbs to move. She didn't seem to mind in the least. She stroked his back and scratched her nails through his messy beard, making him twitch and shiver. She laughed softly and he smiled up at her.
God, how he wished it could always be like this. Just the two of them curled up in bed on a lazy Saturday morning, enjoying one another and trading lingering kisses. Maybe it could be like this. He didn't want to rush into anything, but Jamie clearly wasn't the type of woman to shy away from something a bit unconventional or risky.
Would she follow him to Virginia if he asked? Would she be willing to give this thing developing between them a real go?
His usual bravery eluded him. Now wasn't the time to ask questions like that. Instead, he cleared his throat and asked, "Shower?"
"Only if you join me," she replied, her bright smile making his heart stutter.
"As if I'd rather be anywhere else," he murmured before sneaking in another kiss.
They found a few ways to make the shower rather interesting. When she started to lather up her legs to shave, he took that as his cue to make an exit. Giving her sweet bottom a playful smack, he warned, "You better make that quick. You've got a
bout five minutes before the hot water runs cold."
She flicked his chest. "Like I've never taken a cold shower on a boat? Son, I got this!"
He laughed at her comment and splashed her with a handful of water. "I'll be in the kitchen making breakfast."
"We'll need to pick up some groceries later," she called out as he jerked the curtain shut behind him.
"I'll work on a list." He dabbed at his face with a towel and nonchalantly asked, "How long are you staying?"
"How long are you staying?"
"I have to be back in Virginia by Tuesday evening."
"Then I'm staying until Tuesday," she replied easily.
He smiled at his reflection. "All right."
Not trusting himself to say what he really wanted to say without making a fool of himself, he let it go at that and left the bathroom. While he tugged on a pair of jeans and a clean NAVY T-shirt, he decided that he would take her into town for breakfast so they could go shopping together. Technically, it would be their first date. He felt like a damned nervous teenager as he wondered whether to take her to Jolene's café or one of the nicer restaurants that did brunch.
He was tying his sneakers when he heard the shower shut off. Knowing how long it would take her to get dressed, he decided to go out back and poke around in the shed for the fishing poles and tackle box. Snatching up his keys from the kitchen counter where he had left them last night, he slipped out the front door, crossed the porch and descended the side stairs. He crossed the yard to the small shed tucked away along the fence line. It took a few seconds to work the stubby key into the rusted lock. He made a mental note to remind his father the lock needed to be changed.
When he got the lock free, he tugged on the small door and stepped inside. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness before moving toward the first shelf. As he neared the window, he caught a scent that surprised him. Almonds. Cherries. Jamie.
Sniffing the air, he followed the familiar smell to the corner of the shelf. He shoved aside some batteries and lanterns to uncover a thick accordion-style envelope—and a loaded pistol. He glanced at the window and noticed the glass had fingerprints on it, and the ledge was wiped clean of dust and grime. Had she shimmied through the window to hide this?
He rendered the pistol safe, ejecting the magazine and tucking it into the back pocket of his jeans before pointing the muzzle away from him and racking the slide twice to ensure there weren't any rounds chambered. Sliding the pistol into his other back pocket, he gave his attention to the envelope. Feeling the same quiver of guilt that had hit him when he went through her suitcase, he unwound the string securing the folder and withdrew the stacks of papers from inside. A note to Peyton rested on top.
Peyton,
If you find this after I'm gone, burn it.
I'm sorry. For all of it.
Your Sister From Another Mister,
JP II
Chest constricting, he shuffled through the papers and found antique maps and sea charts wedged between the pages of an old book written in Spanish. Upon closer inspection, he realized the maps were nearly identical except that the coordinates outlining a rough box shape were slightly different on each one. He rubbed the two pieces of paper between his fingers. They felt similar, but one was clearly the original and the other a forgery.
Sticking his hand back in the envelope, he felt a small cell phone-sized device. He recognized it the second his fingers wrapped around it. The handheld device was a very expensive—and very reliable—GPS tracking unit. He studied the screen and realized she was tracking two spots just off the coast of the Dominican Republic.
He looked at the maps again, the real one and the forgery. The GPS pings matched one of the areas sketched out on her maps. What in the hell was she up to now?
The faint swish of fabric alerted him to her approaching presence. Before she reached the doorway, he spoke with deceptive calmness. "Your stealth approach skills need some serious work, Jamie."
Rising slowly, he swiveled to face her, his discovered loot clamped in his hands. Eyes wide and expression panicked, Jamie gripped the door frame. She licked her lips, the sight of her tongue reminding him of their wild night, but he refused to be sidetracked. Holding up the folder and GPS tracker, he warned her carefully, "I'm going to ask once and only once, Jamie. What is this?"
Her hand tightened around the frame, her fingertips turning a ghostly white color from the pressure. "Do you remember Dane Castillejo?"
The name was all too familiar. "He was your dad's business partner. Now he's rumored to be a cartel man."
"There's no rumor to it. After Dad died, the business was shut down, so he took all of the boats and crews and started up a new deep sea diving and fishing venture. Except there wasn't much diving or fishing happening," she muttered. "His skillset made him the perfect fit for the Colombian and Mexican cartels who needed to move product."
"What does any of that have to do with you?"
"Last night, I told you that I boxed up all of Dad's stuff, and Mom put it in storage. When I decided that I needed to experience for myself what Dad was chasing every time he left, I went back to the storage locker, but I noticed some of the boxes had been opened. I bribed the owner with a wad of cash, and he let me watch the security tapes. I saw Dane go into the storage locker, but he came out empty-handed. Even so, I knew what he was looking for."
He lifted the maps and book. "This?"
"Yes. It made me start thinking about the day Dad died. He was supposed to go on that trip alone with Dane, but I begged him to take me and he finally relented. Dane wasn't happy that I was tagging along. The morning we set off to climb the cliff face, Dane insisted I take his gear instead of Dad's and he helped rig me up. He took my stuff and said that he didn't mind breaking in new gear."
Leland's stomach clenched. "Are you saying that he sabotaged your father's gear so that he would fall?"
"Yes."
"Can you prove it?"
"Not yet."
"Why would he want to kill your father?"
She pointed to the maps he held. "For that."
"This? He killed your father over a shipwreck?"
"The shipwreck, Leland," she corrected. "When I recover that galleon, you'll see what I mean. The boat sank with a full load of gold and silver coins, jewels, tobacco and indigo. The tobacco and indigo are long gone, but the coins and jewels? If the estimates are right, we're talking hundreds of millions of dollars in salvage."
The number stunned and angered him. "Jamie, you're already a millionaire dozens of times over. What the hell do you need with more money?"
"It's not about the money! It's about my father. It's about Dane killing my dad to get to that ship. I think Dad had figured out that Dane was getting into bed with the cartels, and he decided to cut him out of the Pilar salvage."
"Pilar?"
"Nuestra Señora del Pilar," she said. "It's the name of the ship."
"So your Dad finds out about Dane getting cozy with some narco scumbags, Dane kills him, and now you've decided that you're…what? Going to get even with him? That you're going to make him pay?"
"I'm going to ruin him."
"How? With forged maps?"
"I found the shipwreck. The real one," she explained with irritating coolness. "I quietly salvaged a very small part of it, just enough to whet his appetite, and planted it near another ship that wrecked during the same hurricane in 1622. It was a spot Dad had searched plenty of times and Dane knew all about his dives there so he believed the maps when he saw them."
"Wait." He held up a hand. "How did Dane get the forged maps?"
"I used a…mutual friend…to get him interested in the forged maps and notes that I wanted to sell."
"A mutual friend, huh?" Jealousy burned through him. "You mean someone like Hector Salas?"
She blanched. "How did you—"
"Facebook," he interjected roughly. "If you want to keep something a secret, you probably shouldn't share it on there."
<
br /> "I'm not embarrassed about my friendship with Hector." She shot him an annoyed look. "You wouldn't be either if you knew what he'd done for Peyton."
"Let me guess. The time you two got thrown into a Mexican slammer during spring break?"
"I didn't get arrested. Peyton was the one who got picked up for trying to score off some very obvious Federales in the club parking lot."
He narrowed his eyes. "She said—"
"What I told her to say," Jamie interrupted. "I knew how your family would react if they found the golden child had done something so stupid. Your parents already thought I was a bad influence, and you hated me anyway, so what did it matter?"
"I never hated you."
She glanced away from him and bit her lip. "Hector owned the club we were in, and he had bought me a drink earlier in the night. I figured out what he was pretty damned quick so I kept him at a distance, but when Peyton got picked up, I had to do something. She could barely survive a night's lockup in a US jail. There was no way she was going to make it through the night down there."
Stomach clenching, he asked, "What did you do?"
"Hector had given me his number, so I called him and asked for his help."
The thought of Jamie going to a cartel enforcer for help sickened him. "What did he make you do?"
"He didn't make me do anything. We had dinner a few nights later and kept in touch."
"That's all?" He didn't buy that story for a second.
"Do you really want to hear all those details, Leland? It was a long time ago."
"But he's still hanging around!"
"He's helping me."
He started to shout that he would have helped her, but that wasn’t true. He had pushed her away, punishing her for something she had never done, and cut her off from his help. Trying to keep his cool, he asked, "What happened after Hector gave Dane the maps?"
"He bought the story and the setup hook, line, and sinker. He rigged out a crew, secured the permits, and set sail to recover the wrong ship. They've been out there for four months. Of course, what he doesn't know is that I've already secured the real site and have agreed to give the government of the Dominican Republic a fifty percent cut of whatever I find when I start the salvage operation later this year. They buried the permit and made my presence in the country disappear. There's no trace of me ever being there." She shrugged. "Like you said, I don't need the money. This is all about revenge for me."
