Amber Beach

by Elizabeth Lowell

  His breath hissed in at her words and delicate, questing touch. “A side benefit of going off like a teenager seems to be the speed of recovery.”

  “What do you mean?” Honor asked without looking up. She was finding that she liked all the textures of his masculinity. She more than liked them. She was fascinated by her amber lover.

  “I know I didn’t please you,” he said.

  That got her attention. “What are you talking about? You gave me more pleasure than I’ve ever had from sex.”

  Jake stared at her for a moment, trying to subdue the sudden, wild hammering of his blood. He might as well have saved his energy for what was coming. He wanted her as much as he had the first time. Then with a sense of shock he realized that he wanted her even more.

  “You know,” he said as he reached for Honor, “I was thinking that the second time was going to be easy for me, lots of patience for technique and no worrying about too soon or too late or not at all. Wrong again.”

  Honor blinked. “I’m missing something.”

  “You sure are.”

  His smile was slow and thorough. It set every one of her nerves alight.

  “So tell me,” she said.

  “Put that on me, honey. There are times when words just don’t get the job done.”

  With a sideways look, she began smoothing the condom into place. She wasn’t experienced enough to be quick about it, but Jake didn’t complain. He just watched with eyes that burned. When she was finished, she faced him.

  “Now what?” she asked.

  “Now I do what I’ve been wanting to do ever since that alarm clock of yours interrupted my one attempt at shaving in the past month.”

  He slid his hands up Honor’s calves and kept on going until her thighs separated beneath his caressing palms. She made a startled sound when he bent and tasted her as though she were an exotic dessert. Then her breathing shattered into a word that was his name.

  “Don’t worry about a thing,” he said, circling the hot love knot with his tongue. “This one is on me.”

  She didn’t know what he meant until the quicksilver feelings of pleasure changed into sharp, burning claws raking her into full arousal for the first time in her life. When she thought she could bear no more of the twisting, relentless, fiery tension, she told him to stop the sweet torment. He laughed and slid long fingers into her, stretching her even as he sucked on the sweet knot of her desire. Suddenly she had no voice, no words, nothing but an ecstasy so unexpected and astonishing that she would have screamed if she had the breath.

  Jake entered her at the peak of her climax, driving her even higher, teaching her with every stroke of his body that she had reservoirs of sensuality and strength that she had never suspected. He was teaching himself, too. The soul-deep honesty of her response took his own arousal to new heights, new intensity, new possibilities.

  Her broken words of passion and love pushed him over the edge. His last coherent thought was that he was a fool to give and take so much from a woman whose love would turn to hate as soon as she found out who he really was.

  A few hours later Jake came close to throwing Honor’s alarm clock through the wall. Swearing in a bastard combination of Russian and English, he fumbled for the shrieking monster, silenced it with a blow from his fist, and pulled the covers back into place.

  Mumbling something sleepy, Honor burrowed into his warmth. He wrapped his arms around her and looked out the window. Not even the barest hint of predawn light showed.

  “Wake up, honey,” he said, biting her ear gently. “It’s time to be up and about and fishing.”

  A warm hand drifted down from his chest to his belly and just below. He felt as much as heard her laughter when she discovered him.

  “Fishing, huh?” she said. “Dibs on this rod. Wonder what I’ll catch?”

  He sucked in his breath. Hard. “Uh, Honor . . .”

  She made a low sound that was part laughter and mostly pure female pleasure at what she held in her hand.

  “Honey,” he said, “you keep that up and you’re going to spend the day the same way you spent the night.”

  “Promises, promises.”

  Jake grabbed the last of his self-control, pulled her hand to his lips, and kissed it rather fiercely.

  “That wouldn’t be a good idea,” he said.

  “Why not?”

  He slid his fingers down to the spicy, wonderfully female center of her. “Because I’m betting you’re sore, that’s why.” He probed lightly. “Right?”

  Her breath hissed in as her body stretched and awakened, remembering ecstasy and hungering for more of it in the same instant.

  “Yes and no,” she said. “I’m a little sore, but it would be a great idea.”

  Regretfully, Jake withdrew from the warmth he ached to bury himself in. “We’ll give you time to heal.”

  “How much time?”

  “A few days.”

  The look of dismay on Honor’s face made him want to ravish and cherish her at the same time.

  “Way too long,” she said.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said simply. “I can wait.”

  “I’ve spent my life waiting and didn’t even know it. To hell with more waiting.”

  He laughed and tugged lightly on her tangled hair. “Does that mean I didn’t bore you?”

  “Bore me? What are you talkingohmygod,” she said, remembering. “I actually said that sex was boring, didn’t I?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re the exception that proves the rule.” She gave him an off-center smile. “Come here and be exceptional.”

  As Jake bent down to her mouth, he told himself that he could kiss her and pet her a little—hell, a lot—and please her wildly without riding her.

  Honor was well on her way to ecstasy when the phone rang. She made a muffled sound of denial and rejection, but the phone kept ringing. Jake took one more deep, drugging taste of her and forced himself to lift his head.

  “Did you remember to turn on the answering machine?” he asked.

  “When would I have done that? You haven’t let me out of bed. And vice versa.”

  Jake laughed, then kissed her so delicately that she hovered on the brink of shattering climax.

  The sound of the phone was shattering, period.

  “Go ahead and answer it,” he said. “I’ll remember where we left off.”

  The phone rang again. She grabbed the receiver because it was the only way she could think of to shut up the phone.

  “Do you know what time it is?” Honor snarled.

  “I thought so!” Archer said, sounding as angry as she did. “What the hell do you think you’re doing at Kyle’s house after I told you to leave?”

  Amusement flickered over Honor’s features as she looked at Jake lying so hard and ready between her legs. “You don’t want to know what I’m doing, Archer.”

  Jake’s body stilled.

  “You’re right,” her brother snapped. “All I want to know is that you’ve hauled your stubborn butt out of town.”

  “No can do. I’m staying.”

  “Honor, listen to me. Leave right now.”

  “Allow me to point out that there isn’t a thing you can do about your commands. I’m here and you’re there and life’s tough all over.”

  “Listen to reason”

  “Beats listening to your orders,” she interrupted, yawning. “Say something reasonable. I’m listening.”

  There was a seething silence followed by a heartfelt “Shit.”

  “Now that’s really reasonable, big brother. Any other little pearl of wisdom you want me to listen to? Crap, maybe? How about caca? And let’s not forget the all-purpose merde.”

  “Honor, this isn’t funny.”

  “I’m sorry your sense of humor stinks. See how reasonable I’m being? Polite, too.”

  Jake muffled his laughter against her thigh, but that put him very close to real temptation. He remembered all too well where h
e had left off.

  Honor sucked in her breath. He was teasing her in the most delightful way, drawing hot designs on her skin with his tongue and then nibbling along the cooling lines.

  “All right,” Archer said harshly. “I didn’t want to scare you, but you don’t leave me any choice. I’m hearing rumors that some really ugly folks are after Kyle or the stolen amber or both.”

  “Do you think they found Kyle?” she asked, afraid all over again for her missing brother.

  Jake paused in his sensual play. The fear in Honor’s voice was echoed in the sudden tension of her body, a tightness that had nothing to do with rising desire.

  “I don’t know,” Archer said, his voice rough with frustration. “I only know they’re looking.”

  “But why go to all this trouble for some amber that could be replaced with a few trips to the mines?”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I don’t have time to educate you in the bleak, bloody stupidity of clan warfare carried on in the ruins of empire. Take my word for it. You’re in danger as long as you stay there. Get out.”

  “I believe you, but”

  “No buts,” he interrupted. “I’m coming down the instant the weather lifts enough for a plane to get out.”

  “What’s the rush? Do you think Kyle is here?”

  “I think someone should be there.”

  “No problem, I’m here.”

  “Damn it, haven’t you been listening? You could be right in the line of fire! The men looking for Kyle aren’t the churchgoing, baby-kissing, kind-to-mother type.”

  “I figured that out for myself after the one-way phone calls and the boats following me, and the”

  “Boats?” Archer interrupted swiftly. “Have you been out in the Tomorrow?”

  “Yes. I think Kyle”

  “Are you crazy?” he interrupted

  “I’m your sister, does that count?”

  Archer exploded. “You don’t have the faintest idea how to handle a boat! You have no business playing around with”

  “I hired someone,” she interrupted loudly.

  “To do what?”

  “To teach me to run the boat.”

  Jake tried not to tense. He wasn’t successful. Not that Honor would have noticed. She was already strung as tightly as a recurved bow.

  “Did you ask for references?” Archer asked.

  “Yes.” It was the truth as far as it went. She had asked. She just hadn’t gotten any. “Jake is a very good boat driver. He knows SeaSports and he’s learning how to deal with Kyle’s chart plotter. We went through a lot of stored courses yesterday.”

  “Are you doing what I think you’re doing?”

  “Looking for Kyle? Of course. I may be your sister, but I’m not completely crazy.”

  “Honor. Listen. Please. It’s too dangerous.”

  “Jake can handle himself.” He also could handle her exceptionally well, but she didn’t think Archer would appreciate that discovery nearly as much as she did.

  “Does Jake have a last name?”

  “So you can have Donovan International detectives vet him?” she asked sweetly.

  “Jake who?” was Archer’s only response.

  “Mallory.”

  There was a charged silence.

  Honor didn’t like it. She knew all about the quiet that preceded a major Donovan storm.

  “Is he about six feet two, moves like a fighter, light eyes and dark hair, scar on one eyebrow and a small one on his lip?” Archer asked softly.

  Honor felt the room falling away. She didn’t know what a fighter moved like, but the rest fit. “Yes,” she whispered.

  “You little fool. He’s the one who framed Kyle. He could even be Kyle’s killer. Get out of that house and stay out.”

  13

  HONOR’S HORRIFIED EXPRESSION told Jake everything he didn’t want to know. She was looking at him the way a kid would look at the man who shot and mounted Santa’s reindeer on the den wall.

  He took the phone from her hand before she could stop him. “Hello, Archer. Telling lies again, I see.”

  Silence came, then a swiftly drawn breath. “Mallory!”

  “Yeah.”

  “You son of a bitch. If you so much as touch Honor I’ll—”

  “Shove it,” Jake said through his teeth. “You’re the one who sent her to the firing line, not me.”

  “I didn’t know—”

  “Shove that, too,” Jake interrupted. “There’s a lot you don’t know but it hasn’t stopped you from shooting off your goddamn mouth, has it?”

  “Listen, you assh—”

  “You listen,” Jake said, talking right over Archer. “I’ve had it with you Donovans riding roughshod over all the rest of us. Kyle took that amber and ran, and all your Donovan lies won’t pin that stinking rose on me. Got that?”

  “Put Honor back on.”

  “When I’m finished.”

  “Oh, you’re finished all right,” Archer said softly. “You hurt Honor and I’ll bury you alive.”

  “Better make sure she isn’t buried with me.”

  “Are you threatening to—”

  “I’m telling you,” Jake snarled. “I’m not the only one here. Dimitri Pavlov showed up on Honor’s doorstep a week ago.”

  “What?”

  “He answered her ad for a fishing guide.”

  “Jesus.”

  “Then there’s the guy who tossed Kyle’s cottage last night. He was a pro, too. He left a mess as a warning, but he was so quiet about it Honor almost didn’t wake up and get out the window to me before he got around to questioning her.”

  Honor stiffened as though she had been slapped. It was one thing to fear a burglar who maybe had more on his mind than theft. It was another to hear violence talked about as though it were so many ounces of amber, jade, or pearls.

  Jake flicked a glance at Honor, then concentrated on Archer again. The silence on the other end of the line would have bothered most people. It didn’t bother Jake. He knew Archer well enough to know that he had put his emotions on hold; right now Archer was sorting through the mess in search of solutions with a speed and clarity that had overwhelmed more than one competitor.

  Besides, Jake had plenty to keep him occupied without Archer snarling in his ear. Honor was edging away from him, easing closer to the point where she could lunge out of bed and beyond his reach. He didn’t know what was going on behind her wide, green-gold eyes, but he had no doubt that if he let her go he wouldn’t see her again.

  “Anything else?” Archer asked after a moment.

  “Does the Forest Brotherhood have a line on the Amber Room?” Jake asked.

  Archer started swearing.

  “I’ll take that as a hearty yes,” Jake interrupted, watching Honor without seeming to. “Which means that Kyle knew about it through Marju, right?”

  “You’ll have to ask Marju,” Archer said.

  “Ask her for me.”

  “We’d have to find her first.”

  “Shouldn’t be tough. Try your home office.”

  “What makes you think she’s there?”

  “Before I was kicked out, I got a frantic phone call from her saying that Donovan International had sent their hounds after her and had I heard from Kyle.”

  “Good question. Have you?”

  “Not since I handed over the amber shipment to Donovan International’s representative—Kyle Donovan.”

  “So you say.”

  Jake went still. “Yes. That’s what I say. My word is good, Donovan. Ask anyone, anywhere.”

  “Everyone has a price. The Amber Room was yours.”

  “Not mine. Kyle’s.”

  “This isn’t getting us anywhere. Put Honor on.”

  “Give me your number.”

  “Put her on,” Archer said. “Now.”

  “Give me your number.”

  Honor gathered herself for a lunge off the bed.


  Jake’s hand flashed out and grabbed her thigh, pinning her in place. He met the silent rage in her eyes head-on. Despite his facade of cool control, he was as furious as both Donovans put together.

  “She’ll call you after we’ve sorted out some things,” Jake said softly.

  The quality of the silence that came over the line was somehow different this time. He guessed why. Archer was probably trying to squeeze the receiver into a thin paste. That was the problem with telephones—you couldn’t get your hands on the guy who was pissing you off.

  “I’ll call in five minutes,” Archer said. “If Honor doesn’t answer, my next call will be to the cops.”

  “Fifteen minutes.”

  “Five.”

  Jake was holding a dead phone. He hung up without looking away from Honor.

  “Go ahead,” he said. “Say it.”

  “Let go of me.”

  “No. You’ll run, I’ll catch you, and we’ll be a lot less comfortable on the floor than we are right here.”

  There had been many times in Honor’s life when she wished for the size and power of her brothers, but never had she wanted that stature so savagely as she did now. It would have given her a great deal of satisfaction to hammer Jake Mallory between the cracks of the hardwood floor.

  He knew it. He was watching her with a wariness that would have pleased her if she weren’t so furious.

  “Well, at least you aren’t physically afraid of me,” he said after a moment. “You trust me that much.”

  “A moron’s trust. How gratifying for you.”

  The cool acid in Honor’s voice told Jake that five minutes wouldn’t be nearly enough to make her understand.

  “If I had come to you,” he said roughly, “and told you that the Donovan clan was trying to frame me for what your beloved brother Kyle did and I needed you to prove that I was innocent, you would have slammed the door in my face.”

  “Delightful thought.”

  “Not for me. My company has been booted out of the Baltics and shit-listed in Russia. Unlike the Donovan brothers, I don’t have a vast family fortune to cushion my fall. I fight or I go under and stay there. I’m not going under.”

  Honor looked at the grim lines of Jake’s face and didn’t doubt a word he said.

  “I’d like to meet the man who gave you those scars,” she said. “I’d hire him on the spot.”