Mesmerizing Stranger

by Jennifer Greene

  “Harm.” Ivan had given up calling him “Mr. Connolly” the instant they’d stood over a dead body together. Still, the captain’s voice maintained a deferential tone. “There’s another message coming in.”

  Ivan shifted so that Harm could stand in front of the ship’s receiving device. Few electronics worked this far from the mainland except for the ship’s equipment, Harm was discovering. And the message just coming in put a burr in his pulse.

  “Problem?” Ivan asked. Yet before waiting for an answer, he suddenly glanced out the window, promptly cut the engines, and swiftly motioned for Harm to look out.

  Harm stepped around Ivan. His jaw dropped when he saw the strange, huge mounds in the sea moving toward the boat. “Those can’t be whales,” he said.

  “Oh, yeah, they are.”

  For the first time that day-maybe for the first time in weeks-Harm felt something quiet in his soul. Beyond the sea in every direction were mountainous islands, cliffs and ragged slopes that speared the sky. Fragrant pines somehow found purchase in the rock, adding a rich spice to the air, a verdant green against the pale sky. On almost every turn of land there was an eagle-or a nest of them-overlooking its regal domain.

  The “mounds” in the sea, though, were something else. Hans had already opened the pilothouse door, directed by Ivan to urge everyone topside.

  “They’re humpbacks,” Ivan told Harm. “Looks like an extraordinary sized pod from here. I can count…twelve? Thirteen?”

  Temporarily, Harm couldn’t breathe. The whales were giants. From a distance, each one looked bigger than the yacht, and the whole group of them-or pod-was swimming straight for the boat.

  “You cut the engines?” Harm asked, trying to comprehend why they weren’t sailing full bore in the opposite direction.

  “Yeah. We’re in their territory. Good chance for everyone to see ’em up close.”

  The pilothouse was only three steps above the foredeck, so Harm immediately saw when Purdue hustled to the rails, then Arthur, Yale and Cate charging behind him. For the first moment since hearing of Fiske’s death, the group was diverted from their dark mood. But it was Cate that Harm’s gaze homed on…honed on.

  She burst out of the galley, saw the whales and made a delighted sound of laughter. “Aren’t they gorgeous?” she demanded of his boys.

  “Why are they still coming so close?” Harm asked.

  “I suspect…because they’re curious about us. It’s not as if they’re afraid. Those behemoths haven’t experienced anything they need to be afraid of.”

  Curious? Everywhere, these big hunks arched out of the sea, aiming straight for the yacht, parting to surround it, half going on one side, half on the other. Harm figured any second this was going to turn into a Jonah-gobbled-by-the-whale day…and there below was Cate, leaning so far over the rail it was a miracle she didn’t fall in, still laughing, fearless, delighted.

  And then he realized she was really leaning over. Her whole body was leaning over.

  He reacted by instinct, pushing past Ivan, taking the steps down from the pilothouse in a single leap. She was going to fall. He knew it. He could see it. The least tip, and she’d tumble into that icy water.

  Instead of helping her, his three men and Hans, stood like statues against the rail. They were all staring at Cate with a look of shock. It took a heart-thrashing second for Harm to realize what she was actually doing.

  She was leaning so far out, with her arm fully extended…

  To pet a whale.

  The big guy, swimming alongside the boat, suddenly berthed in a smooth arch-close enough to the boat to bump it. In fact, he did bump it. The men all felt it.

  And they all heard Cate’s giggle of delight, as if she’d just taught a puppy a new trick.

  The whale circled, blew a fountain from his blowhole and dipped beneath the surface again. Harm hoped he’d disappear, go off wherever whales went off to, but instead the huge thing surfaced again. This time it surfaced beneath Cate’s hand. Apparently, it was coming back for another petting.

  Harm heard her murmuring love words, crooning. To the whale, for Pete’s sake-who bumped the boat again in response.

  But he also saw her face. Her expression was as simple and complex as joy. Damn, but she was fearless. Open to embracing anything. When had he last felt that free, that excited about the possibilities?

  “Hey, Cate.” Ivan showed up from above. “Did anyone ever mention that you didn’t have the brain God gave a goose?”

  Cate didn’t even lift her head. “He’s so beautiful. I thought he’d be cold. And the surface of his body was cold, but beneath, there’s this…thundering warmth. He’s smooth and even soft-”

  “Y’all want to take a vote on whether she’s certifiable?” Ivan rolled his eyes with the guys.

  “That’s it, make fun.” Cate scowled at the lot of them, then cast one more longing glance as the big behemoth swam off to his pals.

  “Gonna take him home, Cate? Got a big enough bathtub for him, do you?”

  “I’d like to see you bring home a date. Bet his eyes’d pop when he saw your choice of pets.”

  “You like your boys big, do you?” That brought on a round of raucous laughter.

  “Size does matter, boys,” Cate said demurely, and that brought another round of hoots and laughter.

  She caught his eye moments later. There was just a flash in hers, a connection, but he got it. It wasn’t a day for laughter-just a day when they all needed some kind of comic relief. Cate had willingly provided it.

  But when she looked at him, he knew she hadn’t forgotten finding Fiske in her galley. And his mind kept replaying how she’d behaved with that damned whale. So fearless. Reaching out to something she should have known was seriously dangerous.

  And that wasn’t just whales and thieves.

  It was him, too.

  Harm spun around, told himself to quit obsessing on those haunting kisses and those sassy eyes and forget her. The message waiting for him in the pilothouse had come from the P.I. firm he hired in Cambridge. More troubling news. Bad news. A mounting trail of evidence defining a very clever thief.

  But nothing to identify him.

  And there was no way Harm could keep Cate safe-or any of his other men-until he somehow found that answer. Fast.

  Chapter 5

  The instant the boat docked at Tennehee Springs late that afternoon, the men charged off as if their feet were spring-loaded.

  “You get the feeling the whole group needs a little stress relief?” Cate murmured to Harm.

  They were bringing up the rear. He naturally cupped her arm when she took the leap to the dock. She felt the bolt of awareness-so did he, judging from the wry glance he shot her. Still, they followed the others, walking side by side.

  “We all might need a few hours’ rest, but we’re not the only ones. Cate, you’re funnier than hell and full of the devil. I really want to say-thanks.”

  “Thanks for what?” she asked in surprise.

  “For taking care of trouble. Which you’ve been doing solid since we all got onboard. You didn’t sign on for these kinds of problems…much less for the trauma of finding Fiske. For someone who could use some sympathy, you’re not getting any, but you’re damned good at giving it out.”

  “You’ve completely misunderstood,” she assured him. “I don’t know any of you, so don’t give me credit for sensitivity. I’m not one of those touchy-feely caretaking kind of women.”

  “Ah.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Okay, slugger. I’m sorry I said something nice about you. I’ll try not to do it again.”

  She considered punching him, figured that likely a rich hotshot like him hadn’t been punched in a good long time-but she didn’t. She was far too mature, she told herself righteously. Besides, she couldn’t very well fight with him and stick closer than glue for this outing. Just because she wasn’t a maternal or nurturing type didn’t mean she couldn’t feel sympathy. Harm had had a
god-awful morning. A god-awful month, it sounded like. And he was the lone ranger, stuck with all the repercussions.

  “Hey,” Ivan yelled from the leader dog role in the head of the straggly line. “If anyone strays off the road, that’s fine. Go walkabout wherever you want. It’s not as if anyone could get lost here. We’re here three hours, then back to the ship.”

  “As if anyone needed those instructions,” Cate said drily, but she was as taken by Tennehee Springs as Harm seemed to be. Just the exercise of walking in the brisk air seemed to shake off the gloomy mood on the boat, and the unexpectedly different world offshore seemed to capture all their attentions.

  From the dock-where a hefty number of fishing vessels were already tied off-began an ambling gravel road. She never saw or heard a car, although mud-covered ATVs were parked here and there. The houses lining the road looked more like cottages than structures that could regularly survive an Alaskan winter. Cats and dogs snoozed on every porch step. “Incredibly majestic woods and hills, and then screen doors with holes,” Harm said.

  It was a contrast. Eventually, they came to a café-Ivan’s goal was to get the local flavor of a drink and dinner here. Next door, a hand-painted sign read: Is There Life After Death? Trespass Here And Find Out.

  And at the door to the café was another sign-Leave Guns Outside. Clearly, the customers were into obeying, because a whole teepee of rifles and long guns were perched against the window. Cate couldn’t believe the number, and when she stepped inside ahead of Harm, she couldn’t believe the place.

  “Holy kamoly. We’re sure not in Kansas anymore, Toto,” Cate mentioned, making Harm smile-for the first time all day.

  “We’re supposed to eat dinner here, huh?”

  “Yup. I get a night off whenever we’re onshore. More to the point, I do believe I’ll be able to serve you guys anything after this and you’ll love it.”

  She almost ran into Yale and Purdue, who’d stopped dead to gape for a moment when they walked in, too. The café was decorated early-box. All supplies were in boxes, unstacked and unopened until needed. A splash of rickety tables took up the rest of the space. A swinging blackboard announced the cook’s menu for the day-which was chili, either hot as hell or the sissy version. Another sign forbade spitting on the floor.

  The group filed around the big round table in the corner. Cate gingerly took a seat between Harm and Ivan and mentally lectured herself against galloping into the kitchen to find a rag and soap and some way to scour the table. For darn sure, it hadn’t been washed in recent history. On the other hand, an exuberantly friendly lady with a mighty chest and rambunctious smile immediately came over to take their liquor order.

  Beer was the poison of choice. The waitress/owner put enough longnecks in the center of the table to last three weeks and then some, Cate thought. Initially, their table was silent. Listening to the chatter between the other customers was more engrossing than anything they could possibly say. The longest discussion involved a “little” domestic abuse the week before that included a fire, blown-out windows, screaming matches and the husband finally giving up and calling in the law.

  Apparently, calling in the law meant that someone literally had to either boat or fly in, because there wasn’t any law here. Once the chili was served-Cate chose the hell-hot version-Ivan said to Harm, “You beginning to get it?”

  “Get what?” Harm asked.

  “The complications of your man dying here. This just isn’t like the Lower 48. No place is more beautiful than here. No better place to be independent, be your own man, make your own way. But trying to get bureaucratic things done on a fast timetable-it just doesn’t happen.”

  “Different values here,” Harm said.

  “Ask me, they’re better values. But I’m sure I’d feel different if I had an employee die on my watch, and had all your kind of responsibilities.”

  Harm didn’t respond-but then everyone was guzzling beer in gulping heaps by then. The chili was that hot. Locals eventually left until only one other table was occupied, filled by a pair of hunched-over bearded men who were stargazing into their beer. Cate wasn’t about to touch Harm, but someone should. Where the others loosened up after the food and alcohol, he sat tough and dark-eyed, obviously unable to relax with the weight of monster-size problems on his shoulders.

  When the smoke from the chili cleared, Yale put down his beer, which was probably his fourth. “Something just occurred to me. We’re all gonna know.”

  “You’re slurring your words,” Arthur said impatiently. “We’re all going to know what?”

  “We got a thief in our company,” Yale told Ivan brazenly. “Somebody took a formula. Worth millions. Maybe billions. Maybe worth nothing, too, because the data disappeared…but that’s just what occurred to me. The data’s gonna reshow up. In someone else’s company. Then whoever sold us out is gonna be very, very rich. And then we’ll know who it really was.”

  “You’re drunk, Yale.” Purdue moved his colleague’s beer away. “This isn’t anybody’s business but ours.”

  “But that’s the thing, you see? What would be the point of anyone stealing if they didn’t get rich from it? But the minute the money shows up, the minute somebody gets rich, then we’ll know who it is.”

  Cate saw the men all looking at Harm, as if they all expected him to put a lid on Yale-to stop the whole conversation. Instead, he eased back in his chair, and she remembered what he’d said-that he’d brought his team on this trip, to a place where they’d be isolated, out of their normal realm. He wanted to see if his staff could, or would, unravel-so he could discover what happened if they did.

  When no one picked up Yale’s conversational lead, he reached over the table and grabbed another longneck. “The thing that really messes with my head,” he said, “is that all this time, I thought it was Fiske. You know. Because it had to be the financial guy, because it’s always the financial guys who know how much money is really involved-and who know how to get to it.”

  “I don’t see how it could ever have been Fiske,” Purdue said. “Fiske had a heart of gold.”

  “So do whores, they say.”

  “Watch your mouth,” Arthur scolded, but then quietly, “I think anyone can be tempted to do anything…if the stakes are high enough.”

  “And maybe the stakes weren’t money. Maybe it was something more important than money,” Purdue offered.

  “That’s stupid. There’s nothing more important than money-at least when it’s big money.” Yale sighed, then let out a gigantic hiccup. “The thing is, if it was Fiske, then it’s almost the worst thing. Because the money might never show up. The formula might never show up. We not only won’t have the money or the data, but the world won’t have the damned cure. We’ll all be under a cloud of suspicion forever. You still suspicion us all, don’t you, Harm?”

  “Suspicion isn’t a verb,” Purdue said with disgust, and hauled him to his feet. “That’s why I went to Purdue and you went to Yale. I wanted an education. You never got one. You don’t even know what you’re saying.” To the others, “I’m taking him back to the boat. Although I might have to roll him there.”

  “I’ll go, too.” Hans stood, followed by Ivan. All of them ended up hiking back at the same time. As if reflecting the group’s mood, the clouds bunched up and produced another version of Alaska’s “summer rain”-drenching them in a downpour as they climbed aboard.

  Cate retreated to the galley, where she cleaned and fussed and rearranged-and then did it all over again. Over the next hour, voices and sounds gradually faded away. She assumed everyone had caved below deck, needing rest after the long day, but there was no chance of her sleeping yet. She wandered through the empty salon, pushed open the doors to the aft deck. The deluge had stopped, the skies were just barely dripping, and the lightning had faded to a luminescent pearl-gray.

  Her pulse jolted when she saw Harm, leaning over the rail. The shadowed overhang concealed his expression, but his posture was both tense and e
xhausted. He was staring at the black-silver waters as if his worries were as impossibly deep as those seas.

  Before Harm realized she was there, Cate figured she should back up and back off, head below. It was easy to guess he didn’t want company-much less hers.

  Since she never seemed to make the wisest choices, she edged closer instead. She didn’t say anything, just leaned over the rail right next to him. She felt his startled stiffening. Ignored it. He was as alone as a man could be, had no one to turn to. Maybe that wasn’t her problem…but she was the only one who seemed to be able to do something about it.

  “I’m not good company right now,” he said.

  He didn’t say go away, but he might as well have. “I can’t imagine you would be. After everything that happened today, I figured you might be in a mood to kick someone around. I’m not a bad kickee. You don’t owe me anything. I’m not in your company radar. And I’m tough as nails.”

  “You’re not remotely tough as nails. And quit looking at me that way.”

  “What way?”

  He turned, just far enough so she could see his glower. “You think I won’t bite your head off-I will.”

  “Go for it,” she urged him. “Bite.”

  The conversation didn’t make much sense, but when he suddenly grabbed her…that made sense, she thought. He was pretty angry. Not at her, but at life. And at himself, she suspected, because he couldn’t solve unsolvable problems and find answers out of thin air-which he apparently expected himself to do.

  So his hands were rough on her shoulders. He yanked her closer. His mouth slapped on hers, communicating pressure and dominance, and probably he intended to arouse fear in her. He was one pissed-off kahuna, all right.

  Still, she didn’t back off and she didn’t kick back. She did what any other lunatic of a woman would do.

  She melted. Right into him. Closing her eyes, feeling herself going soft and pliant all over. Feeling the rush of sensation when his kiss darkened, deepened, took.