Blood oozed from a single bullet wound behind his ear. One man caught him on the way down, staggering against the fountain. The other man, the one with the gun, tucked it under his jacket as he turned. Toward her.
Panic bit harder than the prickly branch slicing into her hand as she scrambled backward. The gun guy in a black suit stared. Straight. At. Her. And she knew him.
She knew Charles Tomas…
Jolting awake, Jolynn rolled off the edge of her bed and hit the floor. Hard.
“Damn it!” She grabbed her elbow, the charley horse stabbing pain through her.
Charley horse? Even her aches linked up to Charles after only a couple of days on the ship together. She blinked to adjust her eyes to the shadowy suite, the first rays of morning sun casting a minute orange glow through her balcony window.
She’d spent the past two days on the cruise ship visiting with her father and ignoring Charles. And it hadn’t done her one damn bit of good. The man invaded even her dreams. Intellectually, she knew he wasn’t there the afternoon Uncle Simon had been shot behind the ear, execution style, but the eerie horror of her dream wasn’t so easy to shake.
Swinging her legs to the floor, she padded barefoot past her circular bed perched into her sitting area. A deep rose, red, and bronze color scheme bathed the stateroom with a fire-and-brimstone decadence.
God, her dream was making her melodramatic. Used to working sixty-hour weeks, she really had too much time on her hands. Marseilles had come and gone, and they were set to drop anchor in Sardinia today, but she’d visited the ports countless times in the past on one of her father’s earlier ships, and sightseeing alone held little allure.
She needed something to fill her mind with anything other than worries for her dad. And thoughts of Charles. She needed to be more insistent with Lucy about helping out with office affairs while her dad was under the weather. She had an accounting degree after all. Surely it wouldn’t sound out of the realm of possibility that she would offer— and it would give her a great chance to snoop.
And digging around in her father’s files would prove much more productive than just standing around on a balcony, the water below reminding her of her midnight walk with Charles.
Jolynn pulled a bottled fruit juice from the small refrigerator tucked under the counter next to the minibar and twisted the top off. Her great plan for peace wasn’t working out. Staring out the balcony window at the endless ocean, she rolled the cool bottle between her hands. There wasn’t much she could do about her relationship with her father during this cruise other than hang out for a bedside vigil and fluff his pillow.
But when it came to Charles Tomas, ignoring wasn’t working out for her. Her hands slowed… She frowned, looking harder at the balcony.
And the masked man staring back through the window at her.
SIX
Jolynn screamed.
She wasn’t hiding in topiaries these days. She shouted at the top of her lungs while running for a phone. A knife from the kitchenette would be a welcome bonus. And never once did she take her eyes off the black-clad figure on her balcony. A man. At least she thought it was a man, lean, tall, agile. And masked.
Whoever it was reached for the sliding door.
Her hands shaking, she jabbed the number for the operator.
Ring.
Ring.
Pick up, damn it.
The ringing stopped. “Fortuna hospitality, how—”
“Jolynn Taylor. Someone’s breaking into my stateroom,” she gasped.
The door slid open. She grappled behind her, her hand closing on the coffeepot. He stepped inside. Screaming, she ripped it from the wall and threw it across the room. She dropped the phone. Grabbed for whatever her hands landed on. A lamp. A book. Her purse. And she screamed. God, how she screamed.
Her door rattled from the outside and the man stopped in his tracks.
She raced to unlock the door. “I’m in here. Help!”
As she fumbled with the lock, she kept expecting a hand to land on her shoulder. A force to grab her from behind.
The door swung open. Lucy stood on the other side with a key card and a hulking big guy. He charged past her and Jolynn spun to see the dark-clad man swing over the balcony— and disappear.
Arms slid around her and she jerked instinctively before she realized. It was just Lucy comforting her.
“It’s okay,” her cousin chanted, hugging her hard. “Adolpho will take care of everything.”
Jolynn glanced back fast at the hulking man with a thick mop of dark hair. Adolpho— her cousin’s fiancé— leaned over the balcony, looking down where the intruder had disappeared. She sagged back against Lucy, her cousin’s French perfume radiating off her.
God, she’d come on this cruise to regain control of her world, only to have it unravel all the faster.
* * *
Chuck lounged on the low brick wall that encircled a lobby fountain. His laptop computer was open beside him, a legal pad on his knee, pencil in hand as if he needed to make some notes.
Between sips of coffee, he typed, the screen filled with what appeared to be college course work— macro-econ. The student cover story provided a great excuse to justify his computer time. In actuality, he was sorting through some repeating number sequences that Berg had come across from select slot machines. He hadn’t known what to make of them and passed them on to Chuck for another set of eyes. Working in plain sight could sometimes make the best cover while passengers headed out for a day in Sardinia.
If he parked himself out here long enough, he figured his path would cross with Jolynn’ s— as per the colonel’s command.
He’d been surprised to see her at the casino the day after their kiss by the river. But true to her word, she was sticking around. Although she’d done her best to stay out of his way and it chapped his hide to think he’d blown a possible lead.
Every time a piece of her clunky jewelry sparkled in the casino lights, he’d reminded himself he was better off— she was better off— staying away. Except he didn’t have the luxury of ignoring her back.
He stared into the depths of the casino lobby fountain being replenished by Venus de Milo. He could still call to mind the pert tilt of Jolynn’s nose, the unexpected wide innocence of her green eyes. Her image seemed to ripple in the watery fountain.
His body tensed until the lead point snapped against the paper. He pitched the pencil into the shimmering pool. The mental picture of Jolynn shattered into a band of expanding circlets.
“That wasn’t very nice.”
Her mirrored face converged in the water.
Damn.
He glanced at his laptop to gather his thoughts, but he wasn’t any more successful than he’d been figuring out what a bunch of numbers from slot machines meant.
That’s what he got for not being straight up about what happened back in Genoa. Just past his laptop, he saw crimson toenails peeking from sandals. Elegant arches seemed to beg his fingers to wrap around them.
He would have to focus on his job soon enough, so Chuck allowed himself the momentary pleasure of gazing all the way up her incredible length of leg. Her sleek body was equally appealing, and then, to his surprise, he found a smile on her face.
Chuck closed his laptop. “So you’re done with the silent treatment.”
“Seems rather juvenile.” Her nose tipped a touch higher with a defensive air, file folder with Fortuna logo clutched to her chest. Her face was pale, but gorgeous as ever.
“That it does.” He drummed his thumbs on his laptop.
Confusion flickered through her eyes before she looked down at his mouth. Awareness of that out-of-control kiss snapped between them, memories of how close he’d come to saying to hell with it all and sinking to the ground, ocean pounding against the shore while he gave in to the need pounding through his veins.
Jolynn cleared her throat, her smile steadying again. “Should I relieve you of any further weaponry?”
Chuck stil
led. He carefully set aside his laptop, buying himself time to think. “Pardon?”
“Are you planning to toss any more lethal pencils my way?”
Relief coursed through him. “Nope. The rest of the lead arsenal is stored safely in my backpack.”
Given the assorted security equipment in his computer, strapped to his leg, and sometimes tucked in his ear, Chuck took heart in knowing he wasn’t really lying. His career field necessitated a hefty dose of subterfuge over the years. He tried to stick to the truth whenever possible.
She grinned again, more relaxed and genuine this time, her lips plump and shiny with gloss. “I wish you weren’t so funny.”
“I wish you weren’t so sexy.” Shut up, Tanaka. That’s not what the colonel meant by spending more time with her.
She assessed him through narrowed eyes. “Thanks for that much at least. My ego could use the boost after our midnight stroll a couple of days ago.”
Since the colonel had ordered him…“Do you want to sit?”
Chuck settled into the idea of a conversation, reassuring himself he only intended to gather information about her father.
So far no luck in figuring out who had tampered with the car. And they couldn’t be sure if that person was after her in particular, or just taking a shot at Taylor’s empire in a vaguer fashion. Without question, the old crook had his fair share of enemies.
I’m only doing this for her safety and the integrity of my case. Chuck could have sworn he heard the statue’s laugh mingle with the rippling water.
So he wanted her. He wouldn’t do anything about it. His head was on straight now that there had been time to regroup. “Do you want to sit or not?”
A quintet played chamber music standards nearby, the ship half-deserted while they were docked in Sardinia. A ponytailed cruise director gave a lecture on Italian artistic treasures to prep the guests on board for some of the sights to see on a tour of Sicily tomorrow.
“Are you going to throw me in the fountain? Because your scowl sure says as much.”
“Didn’t even cross my mind.”
“Can I trust you?”
“Of course.”
“Yeah… You seem to be a pretty straightforward, honest guy.” She lowered herself onto the brick wall with a grace that made Chuck long to plunge himself into the icy fountain waters before he did something stupid.
Jolynn tapped the top of his laptop. “Schoolwork?”
And a reminder everything they said could be overheard. “Macro-economics.”
“Pretty heavy stuff for a dim brain like mine.”
So she was still determined to play the pampered wild child. Problem was, he was beginning to get a different picture of her. Chuck hated moments like these. He was going to have to lie, and lies made old scars ache.
Having reviewed her personal file, he knew she was an accountant with grades that made his look like chicken feed. He couldn’t even console himself with the fact that he’d worked his way through college, and Miss Overprivileged Taylor had received a free ride.
He didn’t believe in making excuses. The nuns at the orphanage in Hawaii where he’d grown up weren’t big into self-pity. They were all about a person making the most of God-given talents and taking charge of the future.
Besides, he admired Jolynn’s intelligence. Although why did she go to such lengths to hide her brains? Easier to manipulate the unaware? Or were those hints of vulnerability for real? He wasn’t particularly comfortable with the deepening image as compelling as the way her supple body had moved against him when they kissed.
“Charles?” She waved her hand in front of his face, her knee brushing his as she shifted. “If I’m boring you, I can leave.”
The simple brush of her knee against his lingered. He focused on her face, on the moment. If you gotta lie, keep the story simple. Spy School 101. He tapped the laptop again. “I’m distracted. Online test Monday.”
“Good luck.”
“Well,” Chuck prompted, reminding himself to do his job, gather information. “How’s your father?”
“Enjoying the sun on his balcony.” She clutched the file tighter.
“What’s that you’ve got there?”
She glanced down at the file as if she’d almost forgotten she held it. “I was at the office this morning after, uhm… My cousin and I were talking to some security folks,” she said evasively, “and I decided I needed something to keep me occupied, so I’m helping out with the Fortuna’s scholarship fund.”
“Security issue?”
She clicked her fingernail against the edge of the scholarship file. “No big deal.”
Alarms sounded in his brain. There was something there. “For someone who was willing to sit with me, you’re not all that chatty.”
“Maybe I’m waiting for the apology you owe me.”
Apology? She had kissed him… And he had made the most of the kiss for a damn long time. He was undercover and investigating her father. He’d had no business taking advantage of her that way.
“Jolynn, I am sorry, sorrier than I can say—”
Lucy Taylor rounded the corner, and Chuck wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. Either way, he knew he was in hot water. There was no deluding himself that the kiss had been a freak, one time attraction.
Just sitting next to Jolynn Taylor for a few minutes, catching a whiff of her cologne in the air, aching because of a simple brush of her knee against his, and already his body was burning for her.
* * *
Hugging the file folder to her chest like a shield, Jolynn watched her cousin weave through tourists with cameras around their necks, toting overlarge bags. Lucy was headed straight toward the fountain— straight toward her and Charles. Jolynn tamped down disappointment at having her time with him interrupted. It was probably for the best to have a buffer between her and the confusing guy next to her. But he’d made such a welcome distraction after the nerve-wracking start to her morning three hours ago.
“Hey, cuz.” Lucy sat beside Jolynn and peered around at Charles. “Well, hello, Mr. Tomas.”
“Miss Taylor.” Chuck nodded simply.
“Did Jolynn tell you about the peeping Tom that jumped onto her balcony?”
His eyes narrowed, his muscles flexing under his shirt almost imperceptibly. Almost.
“Lucy—” Jolynn elbowed her. “It’s no big deal.”
Charles didn’t let up, those tight, roped muscles still twitching. “That’s why you met with security.”
Lucy hooked an arm around Jolynn’s shoulders. “I would have been a basket case if that happened to me, but no”—she tugged at the file—“my über-efficient cousin just asks for something to keep her occupied so she won’t worry.”
Jolynn kept her hold firm on the file. “I would think you’d be glad for my help with this project.”
The Fortuna scholarship fund was set up in honor of Uncle Simon, which seemed ironic. But then what better way for Josiah to divert attention from his own people than to pretend to grieve over his brother’s murder?
Lucy pulled her arm away. “Of course.” She blinked fast. “You’re right. If you can find more lucrative investments to increase the scholarship, then by all means, have at it.”
“Thanks. Dad’s not up to visitors for very much time each day.” In fact, it seemed as if he didn’t want to see her at all. “I really do need the distraction.” Understatement.
“Gotta run.” Lucy nodded across the lobby to the burly man wearing a linen shirt flapping in the breeze. “Adolpho’s here to pick me up for supper. I’ll call you later.” She tossed a wink over her shoulder, weaving around a picture-snapping tourist in a bright-colored caftan.
Chuck leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’re generous to help your father out.”
Jolynn wished she could bottle his voice and sell it on the open market. Except he’d soothed that voice and those hands all over her by the water. In the end it hadn’t meant a thing.
“It’s important to keep my uncle’s memory alive. Maybe you should apply for the scholarship.”
“Fortuna employees can’t apply.”
“Oh, right, of course.” She should have remembered that. Her brain was a mess.
She looked away to her cousin smiling up at her fiancé, teasing the top button on his Fortuna polo shirt with obvious ease and familiarity. How much did Lucy know about the family “business” and how deep in was Adolpho? She’d wondered about her cousin, about Bear before. How could they be a part of the business and not know?
Another reason to settle this part of her life. The whole notion that a person could “love the sinner but not the sin” mantra was a tough one for her, either way.
“Jolynn?” Charles’s voice cut through her thoughts. “What really happened with that peeping Tom? What has security done about making sure it doesn’t happen again?”
“I’ve got it under control. Honestly, the contessa down the hall was more freaked out by the noise.” She really didn’t want to talk about it, and it wasn’t like he could do anything to help her on that score. “Isn’t it about time for your shift?”
“Right.” Charles pulled away and picked up his laptop. “Glad you’ve decided to forgive me.”
He rose without another word and walked away. His long strides ate up the lobby at a slow loping pace. For a second she almost thought he had a slight limp, but as soon as the thought crossed her mind, it fell away to make way for another…
“Hey wait,” she called after him. “I never said I forgave you.”
Stopping, he smiled back over his shoulder. “You will.”
She watched him stride away and wondered how he’d worn her down by saying basically nothing at all.
She kept him in sight all the way to the elevator, even going so far as to back inside. The door slid closed just as he stopped to talk to…
Livia Cicero?
* * *
Chuck charged into the small belowdecks cabin, pissed off, sexually frustrated, and yeah, pissed off all over again. He locked the door behind him before sweeping aside the striped privacy curtain.
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