by Rebecca York
“You shouldn’t have done that,” she managed to say.
“I would have stopped, if I’d thought that’s what you wanted.”
“Cole . . .”
“Let’s not argue about it.” His voice had taken on a tone she recognized. He was playing the character he’d been assigned, and she’d better play her role as well. “You know I enjoyed myself. I don’t get much chance to do that in a setting like this.”
“Um.” She closed her eyes and leaned against him.
“Is that what this place is like?” she murmured in a barely audible voice.
“Apparently. And more. You heard him reciting the menu of videos. That one was probably one of the milder selections. To get timid customers in the mood.”
She’d been in the mood, all right. Now there were a lot of things she wanted to say, but she couldn’t mention any of them here. Instead she lay in his arms staring vacantly at the screen thinking that they’d been fighting in the car not so long ago. The erotic performance had changed everything.
Everything?
When the stage lights came up again, Cole snatched up the remote and clicked the power button.
As the television went blank, she breathed out a small sigh. Enough of that.
As Cole slung his arm around her and held her against his side, she heard a change in the engine sound and looked up.
“Must be almost there,” he said. “Wow, this is going to be a fun adventure.”
“Oh yeah,” she managed to agree as he stood again and pulled the curtain back.
Windows ran all around the sides of the hovercraft, and to her right she could see a massive ship. Not as big as some the best known cruise lines were using now, but big enough to make it difficult to find Karen Hopewell.
She saw Cole’s eyes narrow and wondered if he was thinking the same thing. Or was he cursing their unprofessional behavior a few moments ago.
Before she could say anything, Greg strode toward them, giving them a broad smile. “We’re almost at the Windward.”
“An impressive tub,” Cole observed.
“Yes. It was a standard cruise ship, but you’ll find many modifications inside.” He gave them a bright smile. “Did you enjoy the performance?”
“Yeah. But I missed the end. Did she make him come?” Cole asked.
“Yes.”
“I’d think it would be difficult to dance with a hard-on like that.”
“Our professional performers are all quite disciplined. The amateurs are different, of course. But that’s part of the charm.”
“Amateurs?” Cole asked.
“Yes. Some of our guests are inspired to take part in performances. And some of the girls here are just learning professional moves.”
Emma looked down at her hands. “Oh.”
Cole had warned her about something like that, but she hadn’t really believed him.
“You’ll be entering the ship at Deck Three. Your room is on Deck Five. We’ll have your luggage brought up.”
Emma felt a cold shiver go through her. This was it. They were stepping into Bruno Del Conte’s lair, and there was no going back.
Greg was speaking again. “Because we want to maintain strict security for our guests, our entry procedures are rather rigid. Would you please turn in your cell phones and any other communications devices you’ve brought.”
“We left our phones in our hotel room,” Cole said.
Greg looked annoyed but said nothing.
A hatch in the side of the ship had opened, and a gangway lowered, connecting to an exit from the hovercraft opposite where they had entered.
Cole took her arm and ushered her across, and they stepped into a small room with thick carpeting, expensive artwork on the paneled walls, and two men wearing the same uniform as Greg. A woman dressed in an exotic blue and green sari stood behind them.
“Welcome to the Windward,” one of the men said. He was tall, with a completely bald head and bulging muscles. Could he have been one of the goons who’d kidnapped Karen? Not much to go on, but it was possible. Someone from Baltimore would probably have stayed with her.
The other man was blond and also muscular. The woman was tiny and exotic looking with olive skin and large dark eyes.
They all wore name tags. The two men were Jed and Ames. The woman was Sahadra.
“We need to do a security check before you enter,” Jed said. He looked at Cole. “Empty your pockets and step through the metal detector.” To Emma, he said, “Put your purse on the table and step through after Mr. Mason.
She did as he requested, watching as Ames did a pat down of Cole. It was like one of those thorough searches at the airport where they run their hands up your legs into your crotch.
Sahadra spoke, and Emma’s attention snapped to her. “I must pat you down as well. Please hold your hands out to the sides.
When Emma complied, the woman began to pat her down, cupping her breasts, stroking her fingers across the nipples.
“Is that necessary?” Emma asked.
“We have to be careful about who comes on board.” She slid her hands down Emma’s ribs, across her middle, then down to her crotch. Emma gritted her teeth, willing herself not to sock the woman. She was just doing her job. Or was she going all out with the intimate touching because it gave her a thrill? “We have a strict policy about drugs.”
Yeah, you’ve got to buy them on the ship, not bring your own, Emma thought, but she kept the observation to herself.
The frisking was almost finished when she heard loud voices and some kind of scuffle out of sight down the hall.
The woman turned in alarm, just as the sound of shots rang out.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sahadra pushed Emma to the floor. As she tried to scramble up, the man named Jed drew his gun and held it on Emma and Cole.
The other man, Ames, also drew a gun, but he turned and ran rapidly out of the room, disappearing from sight down a bend in the hall.
“Stay here,” Jed growled as Sahadra backed up and joined him. She was also holding a weapon that must have been hidden under the folds of her sari. She looked alarmed but also determined.
Emma stared at them, shocked by how quickly the whole situation had changed from an annoying pat down to something much more dangerous.
She waited tensely for the gunfire to come closer, wondering what she was going to do? Make a grab for Sahadra’s gun?
But the shooting stopped as quickly as it had begun. In the aftermath, she could hear people shouting and screaming. She would have gone to help, but it was clear that the man and woman guarding them wouldn’t let her or Cole see what was happening.
She looked toward Cole, who was also on the deck, his face a study in tension, his body coiled to spring.
Lord, what if Cole did something that could get him killed?
That terrible thought made her realize what she’d been trying to deny. It wasn’t just lust between them. She cared about him with a strength that shocked her.
Moving slowly, she reached toward him, putting a steadying hand on his arm.
When his head swung toward her, their eyes met.
“Stay with me,” she whispered, hoping that bringing herself into the equation would keep him from doing anything dangerous now.
He took a deep breath and let it out, then nodded, and she saw he was making an effort to calm down.
As the seconds ticked by, she looked back toward the entrance hatch. It was still open, and she could see the hovercraft racing away.
Movement in the doorway caught her attention. A man they hadn’t met before strode into the room. His name tag said he was Ben. He was about six feet tall with dark hair, dark eyes and a commanding presence. Emma would bet that he had some kind of authority on the ship.
“All clear,” he said.
Sahadra tucked her weapon back into her sari. Jed reholstered his gun under his jacket.
“Sorry about that,” he said to the arriving guests.
�
��What happened?” Cole demanded.
“Just a minor disturbance,” the man answered, his voice conveying that he wasn’t giving out any information.
But Cole didn’t take the hint. “Then why did you hold us at gunpoint?”
“To make sure you didn’t get hurt.”
“By what?”
“We were taking precautions.”
“But you gave the all clear. So let us in on the news.”
Ben kept his gaze steady. “We use some large cats in some of our acts. One of them got out.”
“And you shot him?”
“No. We shot at him—with blanks. He was frightened and ran back to the animal area. We have him under control. Everything’s okay. I’m sorry that the incident marred your arrival. To make amends, I’m authorized to upgrade you to one of our most desirable suites.”
“That’s big of you,” Cole said, his voice tight.
Emma was pretty sure he wanted to say a lot more, but he wisely refrained from needling the guy further.
That couldn’t stop her speculations. Was this really about an animal escaping? Or were they actually shooting at people? And why?
“Let me show you to the suite,” Ben said, cutting off the question and answer session. Turning, he stepped out of the reception area.
Cole reached for Emma’s hand, as they followed him. Ames brought up the rear. An escort? Or a guard detail to make sure they didn’t stray from the approved route?
She kept her gaze down, trying to look submissive as she inspected the carpet.
When she saw a large, fresh stain that she thought was a pool of blood, she stopped short.
Cole followed her gaze, then tugged on her hand.
She started walking again, seeing more droplets of blood on the wall.
Which meant that at least part of Ben’s explanation was a lie. They hadn’t shot at an animal with blanks. They had shot and wounded or killed it. Or perhaps it wasn’t an animal. Did they really have big cats on the boat? And how would one have gotten out?
Ben escorted them to an elevator that was bigger than she’d seen in many apartment buildings. Their original room was supposed to be on Deck Five, but the suite was two levels higher.
When they reached Deck Seven, he turned right, leading them down a corridor.
“You’re in the front of the ship,” he said. “With a magnificent view.”
Bending, he swiped a key card in a reader, and the door opened.
Emma had been in ships’ cabins before, but nothing as luxurious as this. They stepped into a living room furnished with comfortable contemporary sofas and tables. Beyond she could see a large bedroom where their bags rested on two wooden luggage racks.
Ben led them through, showing them an enormous bathroom with a double marble sink counter, a tub and a shower. The toilet was in a separate little room. But she was hardly taking any of it in. She was too shaken by the shooting incident and the implications. And by her feelings for Cole that she could no longer repress.
“The book on the desk will give you the layout of the ship and tell you what you need to know about the Windward. We have regular seatings in the dining room, but you can order room service any time. And there are several casual restaurants in various locations. You can also have room service in any of the playrooms. Do you have any questions?” he asked as though he were a bellman in a luxury hotel—instead of someone who was obviously on the security staff.
Unable to rein in her emotions, Emma blurted, “We’d like to be alone now.”
“Of course,” he answered, switching gears immediately. “I’ll just leave your key cards on the desk.” He set down two cards, then turned and strode toward the door to the suite.
Cole followed him, waiting until he was outside before closing and locking the door.
When he came back to Emma, she melted into his arms.
“He’s lying,” she whispered. She was about to speculate about his role on the ship when Cole shook his head.
“Yeah, but let’s not talk about it,” he said, a warning note in his voice, and she realized that she’d forgotten the conversation in the car about microphones. That seemed like a thousand years ago. When they’d been in the normal world. Not this place that had turned deadly almost as soon a they’d stepped on board.
She was sure someone had been killed. But who and why?
When she made a choking sound, Cole tightened his arms around her, running his hands up and down her back.
He was the only thing she could cling to in a universe that had gone mad.
“That was frightening,” she murmured, sure that any normal female guest would have a similar reaction. If she were free to get off this boat, she’d turn around and leave. But they had a job to do. And now it seemed even more urgent than when they’d been given the assignment.
“The security staff took care of it right away. Let’s forget it and have fun here,” Cole said, putting a note of bravado in his voice.
Oh sure.
She held tight to him, needing him, in so many ways. More than she could name. But she understood where she was going to start.
And she knew on some deep, instinctive level that it was the same for him. Heat flared between them. The same heat they had felt earlier. Still he tried to pull away.
“Don’t,” he choked out.
She kept her voice low. “I won’t let you push me away because you think it’s the right thing to do.”
“It is.”
“You’re wrong, and I can prove it.”
They had reached the end of the conversation. Moving one hand upward, she cupped her palm around the back of his head and brought his mouth down to hers.
They had kissed before, with an urgency that had taken her breath away. On the hovercraft, he had brought her to climax after they’d watched the erotic dance. All of that was nothing to what she felt now.
Need coursed through her. Not just arousal. Need for this man. All of him, not just what he had given her a little while earlier.
The feel of his mouth on hers sent hot, urgent messages to every one of her nerve endings.
And when she heard him make a low sound of surrender, she felt joy leap in her chest—in her soul.
His mouth turned rapacious as he drank from her like a man who had been denied water for an eternity.
In response, she opened for him, eager to give him anything he wanted—and at the same time take what she needed.
Strong forces had been building between them for eons, maybe since the first day they’d met, and the dangers of this place had brought it all into sharp, aching focus.
She swayed against him, hardly able to stand on her own.
“You’re sure?” he murmured.
“Oh yes.”
He raised his head and looked around. “Someone could be watching.”
“Oh Lord. I . . .”
With a growl, he picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. Still holding her, he bent to sweep the covers back.
After laying her on the cool sheets, he strode back to the door and flipped the light switch, plunging the room into darkness except for a shaft of light coming from the bathroom.
He took care of that by closing the door almost all the way, leaving only the barest sliver of light. She heard him kick off his shoes before he came down on the bed beside her, gathering her in his arms again.
She knew that he had fought the feelings building between them, and he had lost the capacity to keep fighting. Maybe back on the hovercraft he could pretend he was simply being chivalrous. Not now.
oOo
“Shit.” Bruno Del Conte stared at the black monitor screen. That bastard Mason had turned off the lights, just when things were getting interesting. So did he know that someone might be watching? Did he have inside information, or was he just being cautious.
Leaning over, Bruno fiddled with the brightness, but it didn’t help.
A knock on the door made him sit back in his chair.
> “Come in,” he called.
His security chief, Ben Walker, entered. Walker had been with him for the past six months. He was good man, meticulous, quick to crack down on troublemakers, and able to pretend that he was only a minor player on the security team.
“What happened down there exactly?”
“A slave found out the hovercraft was due and tried to escape.”
“How did he think he was getting on board?”
“He had a crew member’s uniform.”
“Which he got how?”
“Maybe from the laundry.”
“And what happened to him?”
“They challenged him before he got to the embarkation area. He ran, and they shot him. He’s dead.”
“Good.”
“I’m sorry for the disturbance. It seems that the unrest has spread farther than we originally thought. I’ll be personally reviewing the sex sessions that included the dead man.”
“What’s his name?”
“Joseph Naguro.”
“I can’t remember anything special about him.”
In the five years he’d been operating the Windward, Bruno had had problems from time to time, but never at such a sustained level. It was as though people who should know their place were thinking they deserved unwarranted consideration.
“Do you think Cole Mason and Emma Ray have anything to do with it?”
“I think they were at the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Maybe. What were your impressions of them?”
“He kept his cool in a tense situation.” He laughed. “Well, he got a little smart aleck in his remarks.”
“How do you interpret that?”
“His response to being pushed to the floor and having a gun held on him.”
“Was he in danger?” Bruno snapped.
“If the rebels had gotten into the reception area, he would have been.”
“Maybe we didn’t check out Mason carefully enough. Go over his background. And Ms. Ray’s. I mean more than what we’ve already got.”
“Yes sir. Is there anything else you need at the moment.”
“I think we’ve covered it,” Bruno answered. When his security chief left, he repressed the urge to pick up the glass on his desk and throw it at the bulkhead. But that would make a mess someone would have to clean up, and he didn’t want anyone to know he was upset by this latest incident.
