24 Hours Bundle

by Jo Leigh

  Cole sidestepped the question. He wasn’t going to betray Pepper or her aunt, not even to his best friend and boss. “Evan Atwell is here on the island with a male companion.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  The stretch of silence on the other end of the line told Cole his distraction had worked. He could picture Luke, his eyes closed, leaning back in his chair, mulling that one over.

  Of the two Rossi brothers, Luke was the one who had a gift for figuring things out. He was a genius when it came to anything electronic. Matt was more of an action man. If you were holed up in an alley being shot at, Matt was the Rossi you wanted at your side. But if there was a puzzle to solve, Luke was your man. Together, the brothers made a good team.

  It occurred to him then that what Pepper had to do was find and use her strengths if she wanted to make a place for herself. He glanced toward the bathroom door. Perhaps their deal—that he would back off and let her handle this case—could help her to do that.

  “So, genius boy, what do you think?” Cole finally asked.

  “I’ve got several ideas. You think Atwell set up the robbery?”

  “I think it would be an amazing coincidence if he was just here to take in the island’s amenities. Evan also had a meeting with Butch Castellano, the owner of the resort, and Mr. Castellano has a well-known reputation for collecting French Impressionists. Atwell’s companion wears a goatee and a French beret. It would help if you could get a line on him.”

  “Will do. I don’t like this turn of events one bit.” Luke disconnected.

  Ditto, Cole thought. There was nothing to like about Atwell’s presence on the island. He couldn’t get rid of the feeling that there was more going on here than Irene Rossi’s scheme to lure back an old boyfriend.

  He strode to the wide window that looked out on the beach. Then he moved back into the bedroom and peered through the slats in the window that looked out on a forest of palm trees. The hairs on the back of his neck rose to attention. Someone was out there all right. But who and why?

  PEPPER USED THE SLEEVE of her Escapade Island robe to wipe off the steam that covered the bathroom mirror. She’d finished her shower fifteen minutes ago, and then she’d rubbed herself with lotion, brushed her teeth, and done what she could with her hair. Phone calls had been next. Irene wasn’t booked to fly in on tomorrow’s flight, and she hadn’t chartered a flight from the Miami airport. That didn’t mean that she hadn’t been able to find another charter company, but Pepper was beginning to have the same bad feeling she’d had in the penthouse suite.

  She glanced at the bathroom door. Cole might have some ideas. But she wanted to handle this herself. Besides, she was stalling. Nerves were dancing little jigs in her stomach. She looked down at the book she’d dug out of her duffel, the one that Gari had given her on the island’s history. She’d leafed through it to postpone going back into the bedroom, but when she discovered herself caught up in the story of Adam, a plantation owner’s son, who’d fallen in love with Elena, one of his slaves, she’d closed the book in disgust. She just couldn’t seem to escape from tales of star-crossed lovers.

  And what was she doing sitting here reading when she could be making love with Cole? When was she ever going to stop worrying that she would never measure up?

  “Stupid,” she whispered to the image she saw in the mirror. Still she hesitated. Glancing back down at the book, she couldn’t help wonder if the island slave girl Elena had faced the same fears the first time she’d made love with her young master. Probably.

  But this wasn’t going to be the first time she made love with Cole. Strictly speaking, if she was keeping score, it would be the third time. Slowly, she ran her finger down the spine of the book. It was one thing to make love on impulse and quite another to know it was going to happen—to have to think and to plan.

  Had Elena had some sort of plan the first day that Adam had summoned her? Probably.

  But Pepper was lousy at plans whether it had to do with making love or anything else. Following her aunt to Escapade Island was a prime example. Her idea of how she was going to recover the Monet and return it to the Atwells without involving her aunt was vague at best. Her grandmother’s main complaint about her echoed through her mind—that she always rushed headlong into things without thinking them through.

  Come to think of it, that’s what had gotten her into her current situation. If she hadn’t gone with the impulse to kiss Cole to distract him, and if she hadn’t gone with impulse again and made love with him on the beach, she wouldn’t be here in the bathroom hiding.

  Lifting her chin, Pepper fisted her hands on her hips. Hiding in the bathroom was just ridiculous. She wanted to kiss Cole Buchanan again, and she wanted very much to make love to him. They only had the next twenty hours or so, and she was wasting precious minutes wallowing in self-doubt. Yet again.

  She didn’t doubt for a minute that Elena probably had her act together from the first moment she’d seen Adam. Meeting her own gaze in the mirror again, Pepper whispered, “Coward.” Then another thought occurred to her. Hadn’t she gotten the courage to ask Cole to kiss her that first time by pretending to be someone else?

  Why couldn’t she pretend to be Elena, the slave girl? Inspired, she rose, opened the door, and stepped through it.

  The bedroom was so dim that it was the scent that hit her first. Vanilla and some other more exotic spice. Her eyes were drawn to the candles. Then she saw Cole standing at the foot of a huge bed that was draped in a sheer, gauzy fabric. He was wearing black briefs, and even in the candlelight she could make out his broad shoulders, the lean waist, and those strong, muscled legs.

  Elena would have met her lover in much the same kind of room, and also during the day and in secret. And their time together would have been similarly limited—the curse of all lovers who came from different worlds.

  A soft breeze made it through the slats of a shutter, stirring the gauze draping the bed and making the candlelight flicker. But she couldn’t take her eyes off of Cole. Hunger for him built at a speed that she was still struggling to get used to. Hunger to touch him. All over.

  “I was just about ready to come in and get you,” Cole said. “Are you having second thoughts?”

  “No.” But she didn’t move toward him yet. “Not about making love to you again. I want to do that. It’s just that…my nerves are…”

  He held out a hand. “What can I do to help?”

  A warmth moved through her at the gesture and the words. He was kind. Why did that surprise her—and why hadn’t she noticed that before? Without thinking she blurted out, “Do you ever like to act out fantasies? I mean when you’re making love with a woman?”

  “You want to pretend you’re someone else?”

  Even in the dim light, she could see his eyes narrow slightly. He was going to think she was nuts.

  “You already know that pretending helps me cope with nerves. And you probably think that’s crazy.”

  “No. I’ve used the same coping device myself on occasion. What do you have in mind?”

  She moistened lips that had suddenly gone dry. “There was this book I was reading in the bathroom. Gari gave it to me, and it’s filled with stories about the early settlers of the island. One of them was a story of forbidden love between the son of the plantation owner and one of his slaves. Adam and Elena. For days and days, he watched her in the fields, stole out to speak with her, left her secret gifts, before he finally sent for her the first time.”

  “Once he laid eyes on her, he couldn’t get her out of his mind.” With one finger, Cole traced the line of her throat, and Pepper felt the touch right down to her toes. “She filled his dreams at night and filled his thoughts all day.”

  “Yes.”

  “His feelings for her grew so strong that he wasn’t quite sure how to handle them. But finally, he could no longer resist the attraction. So he sent for her.”

  “Yes.” Pepper moistened her lips again. “And she longed for him to
o because she’d learned what a sweet and gentle man he was. She wanted nothing more than to feel the warmth of his touch and to touch him in return.”

  “I think I can understand that,” Cole said, his eyes never leaving hers.

  She cleared her dry throat. “Well, I was just thinking that they must have met secretly in a place just like this, and I thought—I mean, if you wouldn’t mind…”

  “You’re my mistress, Elena, and I’ve just sent for you.”

  Pepper let out the breath that she was holding. He didn’t think she was nuts. “Yes. And I’ve made it clear that I desperately want this too. In fact, this isn’t the first time we’ve met. Each day guards fetch me from the fields and bring me here to you.”

  He moved toward her then, slowly. “Each day when you get here, I take your clothes off and bathe you first. I like to touch you. I enjoy making you come just by touching you.”

  With the fantasy spinning in her head, Pepper struggled to find her voice. “Each time we meet the threat of discovery is heightened, and we know our time together is slipping away.”

  “I can have my pick of the slaves, but I’m not supposed to favor one. I can’t help myself. Each time you leave, I know that I’ll have to ask for you again because I have to touch you again.” Cole reached out to her then, running one finger down the column of her neck to her collarbone. “I have to have you again. I’ve become addicted to you—to the pleasure we can give each other. I can’t stop. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop.”

  Pepper was surprised that she could walk when he took her hand and led her to the side of the bed. She’d never before been seduced by words alone.

  Cole lifted a glass of champagne from the nightstand. When he touched it to her lips, she took a sip. Then he turned the glass and sipped from the same spot that she’d used. Her knees went weak.

  “Have I told you how much I like your taste?” he asked.

  “I like yours, too. I…want more.” Pepper wasn’t quite sure whether she was speaking as Elena or herself.

  “Yes,” Cole murmured as he set down the glass and reached for the sash of her robe.

  She had one brief feeling of regret that she didn’t have on something sexier underneath, and then she pushed it aside. Elena wouldn’t have had anything fancy to wear. Like the slave, she was going to live in the moment.

  The second her robe hit the floor, she took his hands and said, “I want to touch you the way you always touch me. All over. Will you let me do that?”

  Even in the dim light, she caught the gleam in his eyes.

  “Of course,” he said. “Don’t you remember the one rule we agreed to, Elena? Every request we make of each other must be granted. Without exception.”

  Pepper felt a dark, hot thrill move through her. Cole not only didn’t think she was nuts, he was adding to the fantasy.

  Her hand trembled as she pushed aside the gauzy fabric draping the bed. He climbed onto the mattress first and then pulled her up beside him. After she urged him back on the pillows, she straddled his waist. Just the feel of that smooth, hot skin beneath her began to cloud her mind. Inching herself forward a few inches, she placed her hand on either side of his face.

  His low moan distracted her for a moment.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You feel so good on top of me, I’m not sure how much time I can give you to touch me.”

  As Pepper considered that, all the sensations moving through her intensified. She was aware of the sharp angle of his jaw and the roughness of stubble beneath her palms. She felt the hard heat of his stomach muscles pressed against her center. There was a growing feeling of emptiness right there, and she hungered for it to be filled. In a moment, she promised herself as she drew her palms down his neck and over his shoulders. Then she moved her hands slowly down the muscles of his chest absorbing the texture of the crisp dark curls that covered it until her fingers finally stopped at the apex of her thighs.

  “Touch yourself now, Elena.”

  A tide of heat moved through her, so hot that she was afraid she was going to melt.

  “Do it for me,” he urged. “You promised to do anything I asked you to do.”

  It seemed such a wicked and wanton thing to do. And she was surprised at the strength of her desire to touch herself simply because Cole wanted her to. But the melting sensation inside of her was so intense now that she wasn’t sure she had the strength to…

  “Now.”

  It was the tight husky tone of his voice that had her rising just enough to insert her fingers into the soft heat at her center. Pleasure speared through her.

  “Tell me what it feels like,” he said.

  Battling a fresh onslaught of sensations, she said, “Hot. My fingers are burning. And it’s so wet.”

  “Go deeper,” he urged.

  Her hand seemed to be controlled by his commands because all of a sudden, her fingers slid in further. But…“Not deep enough. I want—”

  “Soon. But first, pull them out and then push in again.”

  Once again her fingers moved at his command as if she were merely his puppet, and this time a fierce tightness began to build inside of her.

  “Out and in,” he murmured.

  She could barely hear his words so focused was she on the sensations that were flooding through her. His skin was so hot, so hard against her thighs. And his hands were at her waist now, gripping her tightly as her fingers moved. Out and in. Out and in. Pressure built inside of her until that’s all she knew, all she felt.

  “Come for me, Elena. Come for me, now.”

  The whispered words, the urgency of them, moved through her, releasing the pressure in one colossal wave of pleasure that grew in strength as it moved through her.

  When she could think again, she was lying on top of Cole, her face pressed into the curve of his shoulder, his arms holding her close. She wasn’t sure that she could move, wasn’t sure she wanted to.

  “I didn’t get very far with my plan to touch you,” she murmured.

  She heard the deep rumble of his chuckle beneath her ear. It was a nice sound, one she hadn’t heard before.

  “You can give it another try as soon as you feel up to it,” he said.

  “I think my arms are still about as operative as wet noodles,” she said and had the pleasure of hearing his chuckle again.

  There was a sudden explosion of sound from the other room—the front door crashing open. In one smooth movement, Cole lifted her and pushed her aside.

  “My gun,” he whispered as he slid from the bed. “It’s on the nightstand.”

  Footsteps pounded across floorboards as she slithered out of the bed, twisting herself in the sheet and nearly losing her balance. By the time she grabbed the gun, two men were in the doorway of the bedroom. She recognized them as Butch Castellano and the man Cole had identified as his bodyguard, Mr. H. Butch was reaching behind him for something. There was no time to hand the gun off to Cole. He was on the other side of the bed. So she raised it with both hands and pointed it at the two intruders.

  “Put your hands in the air,” she said.

  But Butch had already drawn his gun and was pointing it at Cole.

  The noise when she released the safety was loud and seemed to echo in the room.

  Everyone froze and looked at her.

  Despite that her hand was shaking, she kept the barrel pointed in Butch Castellano’s direction and said, “Drop that gun and put your hands up.”

  “Renie—”

  “If I were you, I’d put my hands in the air,” Cole said.

  For a moment no one spoke or moved. The only sound was the pound of waves on the shore.

  “Renie, put that gun down,” Butch said. “You know you won’t shoot it.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Cole said. “And her name isn’t Renie. It’s Pepper.”

  “You keep out of this,” Butch said, taking a step toward Cole.

  Panic struck Pepper. Butch had a gun and he h
ad it pointed at Cole. Her hand was shaking so hard that any minute she might drop the weapon she was holding. What was she going to do? She couldn’t shoot Butch. She was pretty sure she couldn’t shoot anyone. Before she was even aware that her brain had made a conscious decision, she aimed the gun at the ceiling and fired a shot through the thatched roof.

  The sound was so loud that she thought she’d gone deaf. The others had frozen in place again.

  Pepper registered the expressions on the two men’s faces. Butch looked shocked, his companion thoughtful.

  H turned his head and spoke to Cole. “I’ll handle Mr. Castellano if you’ll get the gun from her.”

  “No can do,” Cole said. “Her hand might be shaking a bit, but she meant that last shot to go where it did. She’s as good as I am at the practice range.”

  Pepper saw that her hand began to shake even more.

  After three long beats, H said to Butch, “Lower your gun.”

  Butch did. Then he shot Cole one searing look. “You, I’ll deal with later.” He turned back to Pepper. “Renie, why are you—”

  H put a hand on Butch’s shoulder. “That isn’t Renie.”

  Butch blinked and then put the gun back in the belt of his shorts. Pepper nearly dropped her own weapon in sheer relief, but she managed to get it onto the nightstand.

  “You’re not Renie?” Butch’s eyes narrowed as he studied her. “You sure as hell look like her.”

  “She looks like Renie did forty years ago,” Mr. H said.

  “Perhaps it would help if I made some introductions,” Cole said. “The woman who just shot a hole through the roof is Irene Rossi’s niece, Pepper Rossi.”

  “Niece,” Butch said. “You’re Renie’s niece?”

  “Yes.” She glanced up at the ceiling. “Sorry about that.”

  “I told you that you should watch one of her TV shows. People change in forty years,” Mr. H commented.

  Without replying, Butch turned to Cole. “And you are?”

  “Cole Buchanan. I work for Irene’s nephews at Rossi Investigations,” Cole said.

  Butch looked from one to the other of them, then said, “Where in the hell is Renie?”