by Annie Seaton
His interest had been caught by the comings and goings of some characters well known to the Queensland Police. Some shady characters he’d encountered through the past few years had made a few nocturnal visits. Each night was the same and he’d witnessed a variety of activities with a procession of beautiful women. Christ, he’d even learned some new tricks for his repertoire. Not that he was getting an opportunity to try any of them out. He was going to be stuck on his old tub as part of this insurance job for a while yet. As soon as it was over though, he’d be catching up with whichever of his female friends was up here on vacation. And if there were none around, it was always easy to find a female vacationer looking for some fun in this tropical playground.
The boredom of the night had disappeared when the blonde beauty in the red dress had dropped onto his deck and had inched along to the back of the boat. Jake had stood inside and watched through the small hatch as she briefly leaned against the side of the cabin near the hatch. He wondered what she was doing on his boat; she was so close he could have put his hand out and touched her. At first, he thought she was under the influence of something and had stumbled on to the wrong boat.
God knows, there was plenty of whatever one wanted around here.
Lucky she hadn’t ended up in the drink. But he soon changed his mind about her sobriety when she had silently and purposefully made her way to the back of the boat and had set up a vantage point with one of his old life jackets. For a moment, he wondered whether the insurance company had put another surveillance officer on the case, but soon dismissed that thought. They would have told him if that was the case, and besides, the old boat belonged to him and had nothing to do with them—or the police.
Jake had stood silently in the cabin and had watched the woman while she had observed the yacht. Even in the soft light, he could tell she was a looker. Although she didn’t have the jaded look of many of the women he’d seen over the past weeks, she was dressed provocatively. The soft moonlight had highlighted her loose blonde hair and he’d gotten a good look at her curves and long, bare legs as she’d crept across the deck. Her body was well toned and she looked as though she’d be more comfortable in a jogging outfit and runners. He grinned as she hitched impatiently at the short red dress plastered to her curves. And very nice curves they were.
Maybe she’s with Customs?
He wasn’t supposed to know the luxury vessel was being monitored by Customs and Border Protection officers but he’d put two and two together during an interesting conversation with his mate, Ben, a detective from the local police command.
They had sat on the rooftop deck of the bar at the marina, surrounded by tourists who had disembarked from one of the day tours out to the islands.
“Shame you’re not with us anymore. This current operation would be right up your alley, Jake,” Ben had said.
“Don’t rub it in. It’s hard enough sitting behind a camera all night watching all those local crims getting on and off the boat…I feel so bloody useless.” Jake had taken a swig of beer and had glared at his ex-partner. “What’s going down? Are they dealing from the cruiser?”
“Can’t say. But just pay extra close attention to who gets on and off. All I can tell you, it’s a customs job.” Ben had tapped the side of his nose and changed the subject, obviously aware he’d breached confidentiality. “So what’s your job all about? Why are you spending every night on that old leaky tub of yours? Who’s the insurance company after—Rodrigo Cabal?”
“The Brazilian guy?” Jake asked. “I don’t know. It’s strange. It’s got more of a police feel than an insurance job. I just have to record the comings and goings on the motor cruiser and take photographs of whoever gets on the boat.” He shook his head. “Bloody boring work.”
Ben had slapped his thigh and laughed. “And from all accounts, there are a few ‘comings’ on the boat.”
Jake had groaned at Ben’s joke. “I really don’t know what they’re after, because the CCTV in the marina picks up whoever boards the boat. It’s got me buggered. But hey, it pays the bills.”
“I honestly don’t know why you’re doing it.” Ben looked out across the water and shook his head. “You have an amazing house around the bay, three fabulous cars, and all the money you could ever need. And you live in one of the most beautiful places in the world, yet here you are taking on a shitty job that bores you to tears.”
“Makes me feel useful, I suppose,” Jake replied. Even he could hear the bitterness in his voice. He stretched his leg out in front of him looking down at the scar on his calf, still red and angry, six months after the last operation. The scar stretched from his knee to his ankle and he brushed his fingers across the indentation where the bullet had gone in and shattered his knee. If it hadn’t been for that split second, he would still be working with Ben in the job he loved. And a job he’d been bloody good at.
Medical retirement sucked. Big-time.
After he’d been shot, he’d endured months of surgery and rehabilitation; the bullet had shattered his tibia and kneecap and he’d ended up with a metal plate in his leg. Then he’d been moved on to a plastic surgeon for a massive skin graft operation.
Movement on the deck outside brought him back to the present and he stretched his leg so the stiffness in his knee wouldn’t hold him back. The woman stood and turned toward the dock, and Jake followed her silently to the front to the boat.
Hell, I can track a quarry in broad daylight without being seen. This one was a snack.
As she put her hand to the side of the boat to step up, Jake swiftly covered the last couple of yards before placing one hand over her mouth and pulling her back against his chest. Her mouth opened beneath his hand, and she twisted in his grasp. Holding her firmly, he pulled her down to the deck. Warm, smooth skin pressed into his legs as her dress rode up high above her panties.
“Shh,” he warned in a low voice. “Don’t make a sound. I won’t hurt you.”
He pulled her back into the cabin, and she twisted trying to get out of his grasp. Her lips opened beneath his fingers and he increased the pressure on her mouth with his flattened palm. The slippery fabric of her dress made it hard to keep a grip on her, and he bunched his other hand tightly in the material around her waist. As she pulled away, he lost his balance and they fell through the open door ending up on the cabin floor in a tangle of limbs.
“Fuck!” Pain shot through Jake’s knee and he let go of her. Carefully pushing himself up to his feet and trying to protect his knee, he could hear her scrabbling away from him in the dark. He reached down and grabbed her bare foot.
“Be quiet, for fuck’s sake,” he repeated tersely. “I said I won’t hurt you.”
In the dim light coming through the small hatch, sheer terror filled her expression. Wide-eyed, she lay on her back half under the table, pulling her dress down to cover her bared thighs. He held out his hand and she looked at it for a long moment, before placing her trembling hand in his. Pulling her to her feet in the narrow space, he braced himself on his good leg for balance. Her soft breasts pushed into his chest as he pulled her up and he jumped as a jolt of desire shot straight to his groin. He put his hand on her shoulders and tried to ignore the reaction of his body, disgusted with himself.
Christ, she’s got eyes as wide as rabbit caught in a spotlight and I’ve got a hard-on? I’ve been on this job too bloody long.
What he had to do was ignore his reaction and find out what she was doing on his boat. All his instincts were screaming she had something to do with what had been going down on the Midas and she wasn’t going anywhere till he found out.
Chapter Two
Gracie let go of his hand and wiped her mouth with shaking fingers to remove the salty taste of her attacker’s hand from her lips. As she backed away from him, her legs came up hard against the edge of an oval-shaped table fixed to the floor.
“Sit down,” he said quietly.
She could barely see him; the cabin was only dimly lit by moonlight fr
om the east and a small patch of light shone in from the dock on the starboard side.
God, I’m thinking in nautical terms now.
Gracie tried to laugh, but it came out as a strangled whimper. With her hands clenched tightly behind her back so he couldn’t see them shaking, she lifted her chin defiantly and kept her gaze fixed on her attacker. She inched her way around the table and slid onto the seat that followed the curve of the small saloon. Her bare legs slipped easily across the cool vinyl and, she gripped the edge of the table, pushing as far into the corner as she could. Away from his reach.
“What do you want?” she asked holding her body taut and ready to move if he came anywhere near her. All she could think of was the scene she’d witnessed on the yacht and fears of a sexual assault were uppermost in her mind. She swallowed and forced her lips together—her chin was shaking and she knew that terror was written all over her face.
“Calm down,” he said softly. “Look, I’m not going to hurt you. And it’s what do you want. Not me. This is my boat and you came onto it. Remember?” He spoke slowly and his voice was firm, but cold. “I just want to know what you’re doing here.”
Gracie couldn’t think straight. She ran a shaking hand through her hair, trying to buy time to gather her thoughts.
How am I going to handle this? Maybe he knows Regan; he’s so close to that boat…
Then again, he may not have been here long enough.
“I…er…was going to a party on the big yacht across the water and I wanted to…you know…check it out first.” She decided to stick to the truth—as close as she could anyway.
“And why did you pick my boat?”
“It has the best vantage point,” she said truthfully.
“And what did you think of the party favors on the Midas?”
Well, he knows the name of the boat, that’s a start.
“Ah, it… ah, it looks like fun,” she lied. Then, she realized what she’d said and prayed he wouldn’t take it as a come-on.
Nothing could be further from the truth for a boring schoolteacher from Ashby Downs— but she knew she had to get on that boat. So there was no way she was going to tell him anything; this guy might know the skipper or the crew. Although on this old tub, she doubted it. But she wasn’t prepared to trust him, especially considering the way he had pulled her into the cabin and was interrogating her.
Her heartbeat had almost returned to normal and her eyes were becoming accustomed to the dim light. He lounged nonchalantly against the closed door, bending slightly, so he must be taller than the six feet of headroom in the cabin. She had no chance of getting past him and out of the cabin unless he agreed to let her go.
“So,” she said inching casually around to the other end of the semi-circular seat toward the door. “Now you know I don’t plan to steal your boat, I’ll get going and head for the party before it’s too late.” She glanced across to her shoes and bag lying just inside the door. Jake moved slowly across and sat beside her, his body pushing her against the back of the seat. He circled his fingers around the top of her arm and her heart rate rocketed up immediately.
“No, sweetheart.” Holding her arm in a viselike grip, the heat from his body burned into her bare skin as he leaned in even closer. She pressed back into the corner away from him.
“What do you mean… no?” Her voice was almost a squeak and her damn bottom lip was trembling again. Her gaze was fixed on his hand. It was tanned a deep brown contrasting against her pale skin even in the dim light.
“I can’t let you go anywhere yet, not until I know for sure what you’re up to.” His face was close to hers and a pleasantly masculine mix of sweat and aftershave drifted her way. “What are you doing on my boat? I want the truth. Were you trying to steal something from me?” His eyes narrowed. “Or you were you looking for me? Reporting back to someone, perhaps?”
At least he hadn’t been drinking…as far as she could tell. No whiff of alcohol on his breath. She raised her eyes to his face, up past the tightly sculpted muscles under his close-fitting dark T-shirt. “I told you. I’m going to the party on the yacht.” She tipped her head back, trying to read his expression in the semidarkness, but it was impossible.
“Who invited you?” he persisted lowering his head so his face was almost touching hers.
Much to Gracie’s disgust, a frisson of excitement rippled down her spine and dampened down her fear as his dark eyes held hers. Raw power radiated from him, both physically and in his attitude. He was so close she could see the long dark lashes surrounding his eyes and he held her gaze for a long moment. Irrationally, she wondered what color they were.
Even though her heart was racing, she returned his gaze steadily before lifting her hands up to his chest and pushing him back.
“Give me some space.” She leaned back on the seat and drew a shaking breath. “No one did. I invited myself.”
“Okay,” he said.” We’ll try again.” He moved away from her and ran his hand through his dark, short-cropped hair. “So you’re going to the party across the way. You’re so keen to get on there, you invited yourself, but on the way you decided to take a little detour onto my boat.” He shook his head slowly. “Sorry, sweetheart, that doesn’t do it for me. I want the truth.”
“Can you at least turn a light on so I can see you?” she asked. If she could see him properly, maybe she’d be able to read the intent in his expression. A shiver of unease tickled down her spine as he shook his head.
“No, power’s not connected. I only got in late today and haven’t got the power or water hooked up yet.”
He was lying. This boat had been here first thing this morning when she’d checked out the marina. Although, to give him the benefit of the doubt, maybe he had just come aboard. Still, something didn’t feel right.
Turning her head slowly, she strained to see her surroundings in the dim light, and her gaze fixed on the shadowy shapes of equipment above her. Three cameras and a variety of telescopic lens sat on the shelf near the hatch.
“Oh my God, you’re sitting in here in the dark taking photos of those people? What are you a pervert…or paparazzi or something?” Before he could answer, a glimmer of hope filled her chest and she turned to him. “How long have you been here? Taking photos, I mean.”
He looked at her strangely and an idea flashed into her mind. Before she could think about the consequences, she seized the opportunity. She slid slowly back over the seat toward him, curled her fingers and reached up to his face, lightly brushing the rough stubble on his cheek with the back of her hand. His jaw was set rock hard and he didn’t move. She leaned in closer to him and dropped her voice to a whisper.
“So…you’ve got some photos of the…er…action on the Midas? Maybe we could look at them together?” She opened her mouth a little and ran the tip of her tongue across her top lip. “We might be able to make our own fun here?”
It would be so much easier if she could confirm Regan’s presence through a photograph and not have to get on the Midas. Then she’d just turn up there tomorrow and insist on seeing her despite those guys who had said she wasn’t there.
“Why?” he asked. “You think looking at the photos will turn me on?” A look of boredom crossed his face in the dim light. “Sweetheart, I’ve seen it all, but it you want to play, I’m happy to oblige.”
Gracie’s heart pounded double time when he lifted his hand and placed it at the side of her neck, and she held her breath, waiting for his fingers to circle her throat. He curled his fingers and imitated the way she had caressed his cheek. His touch was warm and he trailed them down her neck and continued until they rested on the swell of her breast above the low-cut neckline. “I’ll show you the photos…and then…”
She drew in a quick breath as his eyes narrowed and he slowly lowered his mouth toward hers. Time seemed to stand still as she tipped her head back on the seat and his lips came closer—inch by inch until his warm breath fanned her lips. His hand slid down to her bare thigh an
d the hair lifted on the back of her neck and her arms. The heat of his touch penetrated her skin and her heart raced with a dizzying mix of fear and excitement.
It was like a game of cat and mouse as though each was teasing the other to see how far the other would go before they pulled back. Slowly his lips touched hers and she opened her mouth as heat flooded her. His fingers crept up her thigh and ripples of pleasure shot through her. Gracie was the first to break—she reached down and grabbed his hand to still it on its journey up her thigh. For a couple more seconds the hardness of his mouth claimed hers until he pulled back and spoke coldly.
“You like to play dangerous games, but this is not a game. Now I want the truth.” He pushed himself up from the table and stood looking down at her. “Tell me why you are on my boat and why you are so keen to look at the photographs.”
“Gotcha!” Gracie lifted her hand from her thigh and pointed at him, surprised to see her hand was steady. “So you admit you have photos?”
Her head was still now and that stupid shaking had stopped. Perversely, his proximity and touch had calmed her and settled her nerves. The longer she was with him, the braver she was feeling. If he had been going to hurt her, he wouldn’t be having this conversation with her, he wouldn’t be so interested in what she was after. Putting on her best schoolmarm voice, Gracie spread her hands in front of her, palms turned upward. “Look, let’s start again and I’ll tell you the truth, this time. Okay?”
He looked at her for a long moment before limping across to the small galley.
“Okay,” he agreed. Turning away from her he turned to the sink, pumped a tap and filled the coffeepot before placing it on the hob. “Coffee?”
“I thought there was no power?” she replied.
“Gas.”
He pulled down two cups and a jar of instant coffee from a small cupboard above her head and when he reached across her, she realized just how big and powerfully built he was. It wasn’t just the small space; he was built like a bodybuilder. He placed the cups on the table, and after he’d turned the gas on, he sat down at the other end of the bench seat and looked over at her.
