by Lily Harlem
“They won’t,” Jose said, propelling me toward my hiding place.
“How can you be sure?” I gasped over my shoulder as he shoved me inside, not altogether gently.
“Because we’re cops. They trust us to always tell the truth.”
Chapter Six
Dillon went to the helm and slowed the boat to a stop. He joined Jose on deck and waited for the coastguard’s vessel to draw up alongside them. Two men in black combats and navy Tshirts walked to the side of their boat and leaned on the rails. Each held heavy weaponry that was strapped around their shoulders.
“Hey there,” one said, his tanned skin showing how many hours he spent on board. He cocked his blond head, his buzz cut reminding Dillon of a Marine. “Sorry to trouble you, but we’re on the lookout for someone. You mind showing us some ID?”
Dillon knew this approach. Being asked if they minded, when in fact, they had no choice, meant they were being treated as though they’d be doing the coastguards a favor if they complied with their wishes. Most suspects fell into the trap of feeling secure and often slipped up with this method. He’d tried it with success many times. Snared some mean motherfuckers that way.
“No problem,” Jose said. “Just need to go below deck and get it.”
Dillon wasn’t surprised Jose had opted to collect their badges. He didn’t do well with men in authority—funny, considering he was one himself. He preferred to play the good cop, and these days, keep out of the limelight, away from any confrontation or major decision-making. Dillon was well aware why and understood Jose’s reasoning, but no matter how hard he’d tried in the past to get his partner to move forward and talk about what had happened three years ago, no amount of cajoling had worked. Jose remained tight-lipped, stubbornly so, and haunted too. Dillon might have felt affronted once upon a time, panicked even, but now he preferred to let people come out with their shit when they chose to. Pushing things tended to make people clam up and that was the last thing he wanted Jose to do.
The blond coastguard eyed Jose, then Dillon, possibly calculating whether he thought them a danger, a risk. Whether Jose would disappear only to return with a loaded gun.
He nodded, as if to himself, and gave a beaming smile. “Sure.”
While Jose headed into the bowels of the boat, Dillon decided to play the innocent to the best of his ability. “Anything we need to worry about?”
Blondie shook his head. His colleague, black-haired and built like a brick shithouse, stood behind him, arms folded across his chest, sunglasses obscuring his eyes. Dillon would bet he glared behind them, used them as a shield so whoever he looked at felt at a disadvantage. He almost laughed. He’d pulled the same tricks himself.
“Someone fallen overboard?” Dillon asked. After all, it might be something like that they were on the lookout for, nothing for him and Jose to concern themselves over. India’s crew might well be keeping this quiet, out of the press.
“No, nothing like that,” Blondie said.
The bastard wasn’t going to give anything away, was he? Dillon couldn’t read him either. The man was adept at schooling his expression to show nothing but a calm façade. He’d be good when playing poker. Good if interrogated. The Marine idea came back to him and he decided he’d been right. This guy was trained to hide his emotions, to not let the enemy get the better of him. Dillon shrugged. He wasn’t going to waste his time trying to get further information. Once Jose came back with their badges, this would all be moot anyway.
Waves sloshed between the boats, and Dillon leaned his forearms on the railings to stare down at them. There wasn’t much else he could do. Besides, the casual pose might be to his advantage, save any probing questions. He cocked his hip as though totally at ease and let the sound of the jostling water relax him. Not that he was on edge. Far from it. He’d been in much worse situations and had come out the winner, though of course, that didn’t mean he hadn’t lost in the past too—he had, big time.
Jose returned and stood beside Dillon. He handed him his badge and they both flipped open the cases and held them up, displaying their credentials.
Blondie tilted his head. The dark-haired man rolled his shoulders, seeming as though he was barely suppressing a laugh.
He thinks they’re fake. Fucking asshole.
Dark-hair stepped forward. “Mind if we take a closer look?”
“Nope.” Dillon reached across, his grip firm. The last thing he needed was to drop his damn badge in the sea.
Blondie stretched out an arm, just about meeting Dillon’s hand, and took the badge between two fingers. Dillon winced. You drop that… Blondie stared at it then passed it to his boat mate.
Dark-hair nodded, handed it back. “Looks real enough to me.” He nodded again.
“You been cops long?” Blondie asked, stretching out again.
Dillon took back his badge. “A few years. Taking a breather for a couple of weeks. De-stressing, know what I mean?”
Blondie laughed. “We sure do. Listen, keep your eyes open, yeah? This isn’t public information yet, but that singer, India Moore, has gone missing.”
“India who?” Dillon asked.
Jose softly snorted.
“Big country and western star. You don’t know her?” Blondie asked.
“More into rock,” Dillon said. “Country and western never did it for me. All that crooning and wailing.”
Dark-hair scowled. “Someone’s been threatening her. No laughing matter.”
“You hear me laughing?” Dillon stared at him. Hard.
Jose took a step backward.
“No, sir, but your tone implied—”
“Implied what?” Dillon knew he should keep his mouth shut, should let them be on their way, but the guy’s stance and attitude had pissed him the fuck off right from the start. Who did he think he was? Better than them? And his attitude had made Jose retreat. That wasn’t fucking on.
“Nothing,” Blondie said. He rolled his eyes as if to let Dillon know his partner was a little highly strung. “Well, we’ll be on our way, but if you see another boat and any people on board acting suspiciously, call it in.”
“Don’t plan on seeing any boats or anyone,” Dillon said. “This is a vacation, a time for us to unwind before we got back home and deal with cocksure assholes.” He stared at the dark-haired man. “But yeah, if we do, we’ll call.”
Blondie nodded, a curt dip of his head, and the pair of them disappeared inside their cabin. Dillon made out their silhouettes, Blondie big and beefy, Dark-hair even more so. He’d love to take the latter down a peg or two but now was not the time.
The boat’s hull heaved away from theirs, lifting from the water before the craft turned then sped away. It bobbed over the undulating water, creating splashes of white against the deep blue of the ocean.
“Fucking jerk.” Dillon clenched his jaw.
“He’s just high on being a man of position. Don’t let that sort rile you.” Jose moved to stand beside him. “There are worse men out there.”
Dillon looked at Jose. “I know. Sorry. Can’t help myself. Kind of want to protect you from assholes like that in case—”
“In case I go into meltdown? I won’t. I’m fine.”
Dillon wasn’t so sure. “You looked a little out of it earlier.”
“Did I?” Jose frowned, as though he couldn’t remember.
“Yeah.”
“Christ. When was that?”
“In the kitchen, when you were meant to be making something to eat. She was talking to you and you ignored her.”
“Fuck, why? What was I doing?” Jose bit his bottom lip, gazing into space as though trying to recall the incident.
“Just staring out the window while holding the bread. You don’t remember that?”
Jose shook his head, lifted it to look at the retreating boat.
Dillon followed his gaze. The coastguards were nothing more than a speck on the horizon now. “India was talking to you but you didn’t seem to hear her.
”
“Shit.” Jose shook his head and looked at Dillon. “Is it starting up again, d’you think?”
“No idea, but I’ll keep an eye on you. Let you know if it happens in the future. Maybe you’re just relaxing, went into a trance or something because you can, because you haven’t got anything else to worry about while we’re on board.”
“That might have been true a few hours ago, but we have her down there now. Her to worry about. So that excuse doesn’t cut it. Thanks for trying to wave it off, pal, but we both knew this might crop up again some day.”
“Yeah, well.” Dillon patted Jose on the back. “Let’s not worry about it unless it happens again, yeah?”
Jose followed Dillon down the stairs. He struggled to remember staring out the porthole but could recall nothing about the coastguard’s boat coming into view. He hadn’t even been aware he was supposed to be making food. He frowned, a bit of panic fluttering in his chest that he might have to go through that shit again. Going on leave. Seeing a shrink. All that talking.
He was fine, damn it. Wasn’t he? He hadn’t had an episode for a year or so now—none he’d been aware of anyway. What if he’d had them while alone and hadn’t known it? What if it happened again in a working situation and his lack of concentration put Dillon at risk? Put innocent people at risk? Or even India.
These questions had bothered him before and he’d gladly gone to therapy so he could rid himself of the risk of zoning out and hurting anyone else. Of disappearing inside his own head, viewing shit he couldn’t remember viewing once he came out of the trance. But at least he didn’t see it anymore. For a while it was all he had seen, whether he was awake or asleep. Then, of course, it switched, and it became nothingness. A hollow blackness that was just as bad as the screams. He scratched at his temple. What did he see when he went into one like that? He’d shut out what had happened for the sake of his sanity, he knew that, but no amount of talking had shed any light on the blanking-out situation. Yeah, there had been the reports the shrink had drawn information from, but when she’d rattled off The Incident, it was like she was telling him something afresh, something that had happened to someone else. Bare facts didn’t help bring out how he’d felt about it all, how it had affected him. He’d considered hypnotherapy, anything to draw out his feelings, for him to see in his mind’s eye everything as it had played out, but if he was honest, he was scared to do so. What if he couldn’t handle the emotions? What if it broke him and he couldn’t work on the force any longer?
Fuck that.
He pushed his troubles from his mind and sat on the sofa, shoving a hand through his hair.
“You all right?” Dillon asked.
Jose looked up. The concern on his buddy’s face made Jose angry with himself for putting it there. “Yeah, I’m fine, man. No worries.”
“You okay with me getting her out here?”
“Yeah.”
Dillon disappeared inside the bedroom India was in and Jose huffed out a laugh. Funny how Dillon referred to the star as her. How he couldn’t bring himself to say her name. Jose was well aware fame and fortune didn’t sway Dillon. It didn’t make a damn bit of difference what status in life someone had. If Dillon liked you he liked you, and if he didn’t, stay the fuck out of his way.
Dillon and India emerged, her slightly behind him, looking like she was cowering, unsure whether to accept the coastguards had really gone. He couldn’t believe she hadn’t been spying out the window. If she had, she was lucky she hadn’t been spotted. That could have landed them in a whole different situation.
She sat beside Jose and gave him a tentative smile. “I’m sorry to have brought this on you both. Sorry I spoiled your vacation.”
“It’s okay. You haven’t.”
Jose glanced at Dillon. The look on his face said otherwise.
India shuffled a little closer, her thigh pressing against his. Damned if he could stop himself feeling the first stirrings of lust. He hadn’t let himself get involved with a woman in a long time—something to do with the shit that had gone down—so to have a sexy female sitting beside him like this was a bit more than he could handle. He wasn’t completely sure but he thought he could smell her, the very essence of her, the scent between her legs. His cock twitched and he willed himself not to get a full-blown erection. She’d spot it quickly in his shorts and he didn’t want her thinking he was just some horny guy, a star struck one at that.
And he was. How could he not be? She was gorgeous, most men’s wet dream come true. Still, taking advantage of her while she was vulnerable wasn’t his style. And who was to say she’d be up for it if he offered her a chance in the sack with him anyway? She must have her pick of men.
“Are you all right?” she asked, touching his forearm with both hands, curling her fingers so their tips touched the softness of the underside.
He stared at the cuffs cutting into her wrists while he savored the heat radiating from her to him. It sank deep into his bones and went a long way to helping his cock swell. He cursed himself and jerked her hands away, rising abruptly.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Going for a shower.”
He glanced at her just before he strode away, saw the hurt on her face and wished he hadn’t been so damn testy with her. She was concerned. Wasn’t her fault she turned him the fuck on and he was running away so she wouldn’t see how much. He brushed past Dillon, who reached out a hand to stop his walking out, but Jose shrugged him off too and, with a scowl firmly in place, pushed into the bathroom and stripped.
Chapter Seven
Jose was confusing the hell out of me. One minute he swept his gaze over my face as though he was my biggest fan, the next it seemed I irritated every nerve in his body so much that he had to go shower to get me out of his system.
He’d slammed the bathroom door, locked it with a hard snap and then the noise of the hot water pump whirred through the cabin.
“Is he okay?” I asked Dillon, who was gulping back a glass of water and holding a chunk of bread.
He set aside the empty glass and steadied his gaze on me. “Jose is fine.” He bit into the bread.
“But he seemed a little—”
He chewed then swallowed. “He’s fine, all right, just pissed at having his holiday interrupted, same way I am.”
A horrible sinking feeling weighted down my stomach. We were back to that. “I’m sorry, really sorry about your holiday.”
Dillon cut himself a chunk of cheese. “Yeah, I know. Doesn’t alter the fact that all our fucking plans have to change, though, does it?”
Tears suddenly nipped the backs of my eyes and my chest got tight. But I’d be damned if I’d let Dillon see I was upset. That his sharp words and gestures got to me. He had a softer side, I’d seen the tiniest glimpse of it, but it had gone now. Whatever had occurred with the coastguard or Jose, or both, had landed hard, mean Dillon straight back on the boat with me in the firing line.
“I’m going on deck,” he said gruffly, grabbing more bread. “You wait here so I don’t have to worry about your scrawny ass falling overboard.”
I stared down at my lap and nodded, blinked back a tear.
His footsteps thudded up the wooden steps and I caught him muttering something about divas and damn Richie Lockwood.
For the first time since I’d climbed onboard I was alone in the cabin. I glanced around, wondering if I might find a handkerchief. Moving to the galley area, I kneeled and rummaged in the cupboard beneath the sink. Pushing bottles of cleaning fluid and insect repellant out of my way, I spotted a large roll of kitchen paper, plucked a piece from it and stood.
Staring out the window, I blotted my eyes and wiped my nose. Dragged in a deep breath to stop a sob from erupting, and willed my stomach to unclench. What the hell had happened to my life? It was shot to fuck.
“Miss Moore.”
My heart stuttered and I spun. My nose practically bumped into Jose’s hair-sprinkled chest. The tattoo, shaped like an upside down boat with a double
sail, was directly in my line of sight.
“You made me jump,” I said, screwing up the tissue in my fist.
He swallowed and stared into my face. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I went to step back but the sink was directly behind me. I was trapped.
“No, I was rude earlier, and I’m sorry.”
He shifted a little closer and my forearms, raised in front of my breasts, pressed against the heat of his flesh. I was hot anyway, but now, with his skin touching mine and a soapy, male scent floating around me, my temperature rocketed to over-heat level.
“Apology accepted,” I said.
He smiled, just a little. The right side of his mouth twitched and his face softened.
“But you seemed distracted, worried about something,” I said.
He tipped his head.
“And I don’t mean me,” I said hurriedly. “It was like there was something else on your mind. Something that had completely taken over your thoughts and you were seeing it in front of you instead of looking out of the window.”
He narrowed his eyes, reached out and carefully tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear. Grazing his fingertips over my skin and tugging ever so slightly at the hair roots, he watched his movements with steady concentration.
A tingle of sensation swept over my scalp and down my cheek. It had been a long time since a man had touched me in any way other than a polite greeting. Boyfriends had come and gone on my rise to fame, but since Jeremy Field had kissed and told two years ago—nothing, no one. I slept alone, that way my secret desires were safe from the rest of the world.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his minty breath washing over my cheek. “And I don’t mean just to look at. I’m a good judge of character and I can tell you are beautiful on the inside too, deep inside, where it counts.”
“I—”
“But you’ve been too trusting of your staff, Miss Moore, that much is clear,” he said.
“Dillon said that he would look into that.” I felt completely surrounded, embraced by him. Every sense locked on Jose.
