Code Name: Bundle!

by Christina Skye

  This happy. Crazy or not, he made her pulse skip and the air dance.

  Someone cleared his throat behind her.

  Gina looked up to see John Riley, Tobias’s youngest security officer, standing beside the stainless steel counter.

  “Sorry to bother you.” He looked a little embarrassed. “Tobias asked me to come and see if you needed help.” He glanced at Trace, then looked away. “I mean, carrying the stuff for the meeting tonight. The poker stuff, I mean.”

  Gina smoothed down her hair and tried to settle her jangled nerves. “Tonight. Sure. I’ve got the things ready. If you want—”

  “She doesn’t need help,” Trace cut in calmly. “I’ll manage whatever she needs to carry. But thanks for stopping by.”

  Riley glanced at him again and smiled a little. “Sure. Whatever you say.” He gave a little nod at Gina. “I’ll tell Tobias that everything’s covered.”

  TRACE WAS AS SUSPICIOUS as hell.

  He had the uncomfortable feeling that jealousy might have played a small part in his reaction, but he wasn’t letting Gina walk anywhere with anyone he didn’t trust.

  And that meant just about everybody.

  At seven-forty-five on the nose they took the elevator down to the third level crew deck and stopped outside a room like any other. Beyond the door, Trace heard male laughter and the drone of a TV football announcer.

  Yeah, he was suspicious, all right. “You sure I can’t come in?”

  Gina shook her head. “Sorry. It’s one of our rules. Pain of death, no outsiders.”

  Trace frowned. “You must play for high stakes.”

  Gina made a noncommittal sound. “High enough. But we don’t discuss it with anyone. Another one of Tobias’s rules.”

  Trace leaned down, sliding his fingers along her cheek. “I could convince you.” He bit her ear gently.

  “You think?”

  He moved closer until their thighs brushed. He felt her breath catch. “Honey, give me five minutes and I’ll kiss you until you forget how to breathe. Then you’d let me in.”

  The double entendre was deliberate. He wanted her to feel the same heat he was feeling. This had gone beyond being an act.

  Truth be told, it had never been an act for him.

  Laughter echoed down the hall. Tobias was coming closer, making a joke about his favorite hockey team. Trace leaned down, his mouth brushing Gina’s. His hands skimmed her ribs, closing beneath her breasts and tracing slow circles that left her shivering.

  Tobias walked by and raised one eyebrow.

  Somebody else gave a good-natured whistle.

  The cabin door opened to the noise of a football game. The two men vanished inside.

  “Distracted yet?” she murmured.

  “Which side are you on, honey?” Trace released her and put her canvas bag into her arms. “You know, I really love to play poker. Are you absolutely sure I can’t go in?”

  “Absolutely sure. Tobias’s rules.”

  What the hell was so secret about a poker game?

  The door opened, and Tobias stuck his head out. “You coming in or not, Gina? We’re ready to deal.”

  Trace had a quick view of small tables set up with poker chips and beer. A big TV on the far wall displayed ESPN.

  Poker, all right.

  “Go on, honey. Knock ’em dead. I’ll pick you up later.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  INSIDE THE SMALL CABIN, ESPN was blaring and beer was cooling on ice. Chips and pretzels and six kinds of dip were scattered over the various surfaces. Most of the men had their feet up with cigars in hand.

  Unlit cigars.

  As soon as Gina closed the door, they zipped open their basic black gym bags.

  A beer can popped. Someone sat back and sighed. “Hell, have you ever seen mohair like this? Talk about soft.”

  “It had better be at $32 a ball,” Tobias grumbled.

  Suddenly there was yarn everywhere. Knitting needles appeared.

  Riley opened a can of beer and nodded at Gina. “Did you get the stuff in San Francisco?”

  “All here. Merino wool for you. Homespun alpaca from Uruguay for Tobias. Three new sock patterns and a set of cable needles. Six skeins of hand-painted cotton, too.” Gina smiled. “In case anyone wants to make a lace tank top.”

  She ducked as chips and paper cups flew in her direction. “Okay, okay, just joking.”

  As she opened her bag, she answered questions, took cash and doled out the yarn and knitting supplies she’d been delegated to pick up in San Francisco.

  The Thursday-night poker club didn’t exactly play poker. But the seven men would have yanked their own teeth before they’d admit their guilty pleasure to the rest of the ship.

  Gina dug in her own bag, pulled out a ball of hand-dyed cotton and frowned.

  Tobias looked over his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

  “I lost two of my new doublepoint needles. They’re my good metal ones, too. It will take two weeks to get another pair ordered for pickup when we dock.”

  Instantly four men offered up replacements.

  She finally settled for a set of ebony needles from Tobias. He had broken his guilty secret to Gina several years earlier when he’d noticed her knitting. Several other men had joined over the following months. As the group sailed furiously through raglan sweaters and self-striping socks, they stopped to pound the table when their team made a bad play.

  Gina enjoyed every second.

  “Hey, Tobias, what do you make of that thing with the yacht today?” Riley passed around a bowl of chips, grinning. “Two women trying to flag down a cruise ship seems a little strange to me.”

  Tobias shook his head. “They were drunk. Maybe more than drunk. It’s lucky they didn’t end up pinned to the bow of the ship.” He waved his unlit cigar. “Some people shouldn’t be given boating licenses, not for any amount of money.”

  “I didn’t hear anything about it.” Gina put up her feet and started purling the sleeve of her unfinished shrug. “When did it happen?”

  “About 7:20. The ship slowed down slightly, but the passengers wouldn’t have noticed. The captain isn’t broadcasting the incident.”

  “Yeah, but you’re leaving out the best part.” Russ Wilhelm, the head of engineering, dug into a bowl of popcorn. “The women were almost naked. They could barely walk. All they kept saying was that they’d run out of gas and would we give them a tank.” He shook his head. “Trying to flag down a cruise ship for gas. Very funny.”

  “Very dangerous,” Tobias snapped. “Hold on, here comes the play. Turn up the sound, Riley. If my guy makes this pass, you all owe me twenty bucks.”

  Gina had finished half of her sleeve when Riley sat down beside her. “So this guy in the hall. It’s getting a little…serious?”

  Gina made a noncommittal sound.

  “Not that I’m prying.” Riley shifted a little, looking embarrassed. “I just don’t want you to get hurt. I mean, he’s a passenger.”

  “Actually, he’s an old friend of Gina’s. I know his father, too.” Tobias looked across the top of tortoiseshell reading glasses. “He’s got juice, too. Knows one of the cruise line brass. He’s got approval to do just about whatever he wants on board.” Tobias laughed shortly. “If he wants to waste a perfectly good vacation slaving in the pastry kitchen, who are we to complain?”

  “So he’s working?” The head of engineering raised an eyebrow. “He must be pretty sold on the head pastry chef. Not that it’s any of my business.” He looked straight at Gina. “That report Blaine made is crap. Everybody knows it’s crap. Don’t let it worry you.”

  The others muttered agreement, and Gina felt a wave of affection for these men offering her their quiet support.

  Then Tobias looked around and stabbed his unlit cigar at the air. “Hey, Riley. Stop hogging those chips, will you?”

  AT 11:10 TRACE WAS out in the hall pacing.

  He checked his watch every two minutes, listening to the dim sounds of t
he football broadcast in the cabin.

  What the hell were they really doing in there? Gina had never mentioned liking poker.

  He took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to be suspicious. Gina was as straight as they came, and he trusted whatever she did. There had to be a good reason she was invited and no strangers were allowed.

  He just couldn’t figure out what the hell it was.

  He’d passed by Tobias’s office twice. All alarms were set and no motion of any sort was indicated. He’d rigged up a remote alarm to his wristwatch, thanks to directions from Izzy.

  His cell phone vibrated.

  “Yeah.”

  “Joe’s here.” Izzy sounded more tense than usual. “Have a report on those meds you mentioned.”

  Gina’s pills.

  “Hit me.”

  Izzy gave him the facts in cold, scientific detail. He didn’t omit the optic nerve damage or the negative prognosis. He didn’t omit the fact that the medicine was experimental and would only delay progress of the nerve damage, not stop it.

  Trace put one hand on the wall. “Shit.”

  “That’s not the technical term, but yeah. I have to agree. There’s more, but you don’t need it. Basically, she could be blind before the year is out. I’m…sorry.”

  After he hung up, Trace stood staring down the row of cabin doors, feeling as if he were in a tunnel that was closing in fast.

  Gina…blind?

  He took one hard breath, feeling sick.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  WHEN THE DOOR OPENED, Tobias was carrying a gym bag over his shoulder. “Some game. You all owe me a twenty, remember that.”

  Gina was the last to leave, flipping off the lights behind her. She smiled when she saw Trace.

  “Are you broke?”

  “No, I did pretty well tonight.” She shook what sounded like a lot of change in her pocket. “Straight flush. Who knew?”

  “Wait. You dropped something.” Trace leaned close, pointing to a bright thread on her sleeve.

  “Oh, that’s just…lint. It must have gotten on there in the laundry.”

  “Doesn’t look like lint. It looks like…fiber or something.” He’d find out exactly what, Trace thought as he pocketed the piece of red string. The mystery of the Thursday-night poker session was far from over, as far as he was concerned.

  The others were talking about the Cowboys and the Colts and who had screwed up worse than usual. They were all relaxed and grinning. It definitely sounded like a poker game.

  Trace decided to forget about it for the moment.

  He gestured to Tobias, who dropped back and walked beside him, out of range of the others. “It was all quiet upstairs. I checked three times. But I’d like another look at those surveillance cameras you set up in there.”

  “Be my guest.” They were nearing the kitchen when Tobias called back to Gina. “You have any more of that white chocolate carrot cake?”

  “I made one this afternoon.”

  “Maybe your ‘assistant’ here could drop some off. I’ve got a pile of paperwork to finish before I call it a night.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Trace took her bag and kept on walking. After a moment, he shook his head. Her bag definitely felt too light to be holding cards or poker chips.

  THE SECURITY OFFICE WAS empty when Trace carried a wedge of cake across to Tobias. “Did Izzy contact you?”

  “Around seven. We made some modifications to the alarm system by phone.” Tobias glanced up at the ceiling. “The cameras have redundancy in case one of them gets smashed.”

  Trace checked the walls and ceiling, then walked into Tobias’s private office. “Behind the plaster?” he asked quietly.

  “Upper left. The safe is cut right into the molding.”

  “Nice camouflage job.” Trace put his plate down on the desk. “Gina says to enjoy. And you shouldn’t think about the calories.”

  Tobias groaned. “I didn’t until you brought it up.”

  Trace sat down in a chair opposite the concealed wall safe. “Open it. I want to check the chip we programmed in my watch.”

  Tobias slid a finger along the molding and a small crack appeared. He entered a random set of numbers in the recessed keypad.

  Three seconds later Trace’s watch lit up like Times Square on New Year’s Eve. “Everything looks fine here.” He watched Tobias reset the safe code and then close the door. “Did Izzy Teague tell you about his mother?”

  Tobias turned sharply. “What about his mother?”

  “Our man in question has been trying to turn Izzy for six months. His latest trick was to send Izzy’s mother an IED via fake express courier.”

  Tobias’s hands closed to fists. “And?” he said very quietly.

  “And Marietta Teague is one tough cookie. Knew all about IEDs and didn’t go anywhere near the thing. It went off, but all it did was blow up two of her favorite azalea bushes.” Trace grinned. “I hear she’s mad as hell about that.”

  Tobias seemed to fall, not sink, into his desk chair. “So all it hurt were her plants?”

  “That’s what Izzy said. He seemed pretty shaken. You okay, Hale?”

  “Fine.” Tobias leaned back, his eyes very cold. “Any other developments that might affect my ship and passengers?”

  “Nothing yet. But load up on coffee, because the night’s still young. And remember,” Trace said quietly. “Alarm or not, you check in with me every twenty minutes or I’ll be in here breathing down your neck.”

  WHEN TRACE GOT BACK to the kitchen, Gina was working on a last-minute cake order for a midnight wedding.

  He liked watching her work. He liked the way her hands were sure and quick. He liked the way she blew upward when her hair drifted around her forehead and the way she muttered to herself as she sculpted white petals out of buttercream icing.

  He liked just about everything about her.

  Usually that thought would have scared the hell out of him, but not tonight. He didn’t fight the feeling. Instead he analyzed every detail, since analysis was his strong suit. What he discovered was simple.

  He was in deep, caught in emotions he had never felt before.

  Across the room Gina blinked, leaning an arm against the counter and rubbing her forehead. Trace said nothing as she dug in the pocket of her chef’s jacket and pulled out a bottle of pills.

  A different bottle from the tainted ones. He assumed that she would have extra medication in a safe place in the event of loss.

  She turned, saw him looking at her and quickly dropped the bottle back in her pocket. Clearly, this was nothing she wanted to discuss. Trace followed along, pretending not to notice.

  She was entitled to some secrets.

  “Anything more you need me to do with these raspberries?”

  “We’ll flash freeze them, and then I’ll make a puree for the cake topping as soon as I finish this ganache.”

  She gave her pan a final stir, sprinkled a hint of salt over the rich mix and took a sample taste. “Umm. After all these years, good ganache still gives me a jolt.”

  Trace watched her mouth slide over the small wooden spoon, drawing out every bit of chocolate with loving attention. The sight stirred rough heat and made him harden at the thought of his body receiving her slow, thorough attention.

  “The raspberries?”

  She was staring at him. He realized she’d been talking to him. Time to focus, meathead.

  “Right here. You want them in the freezer, right?”

  Gina looked away, grimacing a little as she nodded. More pain, he thought.

  Andreas emerged from a counter work area. “I’m dropping these petits fours upstairs. You two need anything?” He pulled off his work apron and picked up a tray covered with foil, still looking a little pale after his short bout with the flu.

  “No, we’re good.” Gina leaned forward a little, rubbing her neck. “We’re almost done here, anyway.”

  After Andreas left, Gina took a deep breath and rolled
her shoulders. “Thanks for being a good sport about the poker meeting.”

  “I wasn’t a good sport. I was damn curious. Still am.” He put down his raspberries and leaned around her, reaching for a spatula. His arm nudged her hip and he leaned closer, catching her scent.

  Oranges and chocolate. As vibrant and straightforward as she was.

  “But I’m smart and I pick my battles. It’s one of the first things you learn in basic training.” The kitchen was silent, empty. Trace put away his cooking supplies and leaned down to wash his hands. “How are you doing over there?”

  “Two more tarts to go. Um, sounds kinky.” As she spoke, Gina rubbed a spot on the side of her neck.

  Trace moved her hand and took over massaging the tense muscles. “Better?”

  She sighed, leaning back against his chest. “I knew you had great hands. I was watching you work. I mean, your hands are really good.” She made a low sound of pleasure as he followed the curve of her ear. “Oh, yeah. Like that. Just don’t stop, whatever you’re doing.”

  Her husky tone made Trace think of other ways he’d like to touch her. Ways that involved her naked beneath him. He couldn’t get the images out of his mind.

  Time for a distraction.

  “You get these headaches often?”

  “What headaches?” Her eyes flashed open.

  “You’re in pain, honey. It doesn’t take a genius to see that.”

  She relaxed a little, her eyes closing again. “They come and go. Everybody has something, right?”

  He drew her back, his lips to her neck. “Yeah. Everybody has something.” His hands opened over her waist. He inched under the heavy cotton apron tied around her waist. “How about a distraction?”

  He could see the door to Tobias’s office from where he stood. They were alone, and he wanted her. He also wanted her free of pain. He could give her that much without compromising his mission.

  He guided her along the counter until they were away from knives and food—and the kitchen’s two surveillance cameras. The knot at her waist slid free and the cotton apron fell. He kissed the curve of her neck while his other hand slid along her waist.