by Claire King
When he rolled to her side, he touched her delicately, until she was writhing and bucking under his hands. After the glorious peak, as her system calmed, he stroked her belly.
They didn’t speak. After a while, Rafe toed off his shoes and rebuttoned his jeans. Olivia pushed her dress back around her knees. Then, hands linked tightly together, they went to sleep side by side.
He knew it was morning before he opened his eyes. He shifted to cuddle Olivia closer, though he was already spooned around her from head to toe.
“What time is it?” she whispered in the dark.
Rafe lifted his wrist to check. “Four.”
Olivia stared at the hull of the boat. It was inches from her face. Rafael took up more than his share of the bed. She’d have to get a bigger bed when she got home to San Diego. And, good heavens, her own house. She didn’t think she could ever make love with him again and keep from screaming out loud.
If she ever made love with him again. The thought had been there in her sleep, had come to her even as he’d buried himself inside her. What if she never made love with him again? She’d been so confident the night before last, alone with him on that small stretch of beach. Now, when he was just hours away from facing his enemy, she couldn’t summon a shred of the same brash conviction.
A shiver started in her stomach, radiated outward until she was shaking uncontrollably.
“Stop it,” he said in her ear. “Stop shaking.”
“Okay,” she stuttered through chattering teeth.
“Olivia, it’s going to be all right. You’re going to be fine.”
Was she? It hardly seemed to matter. “I know,” she said.
He clutched at her, thinking if he held her tightly enough, she’d stop shaking. He wanted to go on holding her forever, but he knew he only had a little time and a lot to say.
“Listen, I haven’t wanted to use the boat radio in case Cervantes was monitoring the coastal transmissions, but after we leave, I want you to wait two hours, then radio La Paz for help. Make sure Manny knows who you’re talking to. He’s a local cop there. We think there’s a leak in his unit, but he says he has a guy he can trust. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“Olivia, stop shaking. I want you to give them the coordinates where we’re anchored. Do not get off the boat until someone Manny knows and trusts comes to get you. He has a weapon, but only one. You need to stay hidden here in this cove until someone comes for you, do you understand?”
“Yes.” But I want you to come for me, she wanted to say. She pulled her lips between her teeth to keep from crying out.
“Good girl. When you get to La Paz, get the first flight out. I don’t care where it’s going. Take it. You can get a connector wherever you land. If you have trouble at the airport, let Manny take care of it for you.”
“All right.”
“I have to go.” He kissed a spot between her shoulder blades. He knew if she turned around, offered her mouth to him, he’d never be able to tell her goodbye. Forever.
He slid to the edge of the bunk, unlaced his shoes.
“When—” Olivia cleared her throat of sleep and anxiety, trying to be brave for him. “When will I see you again?”
Rafe steeled himself. “What do you mean?” he asked, feigning distraction. He knew this was best for them both; would allow him his dignity and wouldn’t keep her from her real life. If they went on pretending they had any chance together, she’d only end up resenting him for the barrio kid he really was, and he’d end up with his heart in a million bloody ribbons.
Olivia turned her head to stare at his back. “When will I see you again?” she repeated dumbly. She had no idea why he would answer in such an odd way.
“Olivia, I don’t really have time for this discussion right now.”
Her heart went cold even as her mind refused to register his impatient tone, his reluctance to look at her. “What discussion? I just want to know when you’ll be back in San Diego. When I will see you.” She had to know, because if he left here without a promise, there was a chance he would die out there. If he promised her he’d see her in San Diego, she knew he’d be all right today. He’d never break a promise to her.
He rested his elbows on his knees. “We hardly hang out in the same places, Olivia,” he said, the short laugh he gave sounding like the hissing of a snake in his own ears. “If we’ve gone this many years not running into each other, I can’t imagine we would now.”
“Run into each other?” Her voice was so soft that he could barely hear her. His hands were in fists now, and his stomach was in knots. “What do you mean, ‘run into each other’?”
He leaned back, kissed her lightly on the cheek. “I mean, princesa, that you’re done slumming and I’m done taking care of you. Where the hell would we ever see each other again? We don’t exactly socialize in the same circles.”
She stared at him. “You’re a liar.”
Rafe sucked in his cheeks. He was botching this completely. Her eyes were huge, liquid, disbelieving. If she didn’t start crying soon, he might.
“You’re a liar,” she repeated. “You’re in love with me.”
Rafe shook his head. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.” Olivia frowned, her breath coming in short, panicky bursts. “All the data points to it.”
“Olivia, before you came walking down that hallway, I’d barely seen a woman in months, much less had sex with one. Maybe you didn’t input that with the rest of your data.”
Her head snapped back as if she’d taken a blow to the face. Rafe dug his hands into the rough fabric of the bunk to keep from reaching for her.
“You came to me tonight. You made love to me.”
Rafe sighed heavily for dramatic effect, while his guts twisted up into a hangman’s knot. “What man wouldn’t have come to you, Olivia? I may not make it through today, and you’re—well, to put it bluntly, you’re here. Not that I’m not very sexually attracted to you.”
“My God,” she whispered. “You’re trying to hurt me. This is the old Rafael, the drug smuggler person you only pretend to be.”
“There’s only one Rafael,” he said flatly. “And I have to go.”
She didn’t say anything, didn’t try to stop him. He was both grateful and sorry. If she’d said another word, he might have lost his nerve.
He so wanted to lose his nerve in this.
He paused at the doorway to the steps. Without turning around, he spoke. “Remember what I said about the radio, and Manny.”
She didn’t sound like Olivia when she whispered, in English, “Go to hell,” but he understood the sentiment.
He wanted to tell her he was already well on his way.
Rafe watched the boat zip toward the shore. It was a sleek, powerful vessel, one he knew was designed for just this kind of transport. His eyes searched the beach again. No one there. Not one man.
“Where the hell are they all?” he muttered. The seething in his belly that he’d been living with for months and months was about to drive him insane. Something huge was happening, and damn if he knew what it was. “Where the hell is Cervantes?”
His partner kept a hawk’s eye on the boat. It bobbed just offshore, its motor idling, its driver and passenger studying the beach.
Rafe glanced at his watch. It was nearly eight in the morning. Olivia was long gone by now, on a boat or in a car headed back to La Paz. She’d soon be on a plane home, or to somewhere closer to home, at least, than this godforsaken stretch of coastline. He wanted to drop his head in the sand and moan.
“What do we do now?” Bobby asked after several minutes.
Rafe had no idea. He’d had no contact with the moles in Cervantes’s organization and he had no way of contacting his people in La Paz or Loreto to make sure the deal was still going down. “We wait,” he said. “We’ve got nothing better to do.”
Olivia heard the low growl of a boat engine and scrambled off the bunk and up the steps. Manny was lying on his b
elly on the cushions of the stern, his gun aimed toward the little boat.
“Get down,” he yelled at Olivia.
She hit the deck, her heart thumping wildly. She’d been sitting below, numbly counting off the minutes until she could use the radio and get the hell off this boat. She had been sure then that her heart had stopped in her chest, that nothing could make it beat again.
Rafe didn’t love her. What an idiot she’d been to think he did. He’d never said any such thing, never intimated anything of the kind. He’d lied to her from the beginning about who he really was, but he’d never lied to her about love.
She was a brilliant woman. She was accomplished and well-respected and terribly, terribly smart. Yet Rafael Camayo had been able to take out her heart and stomp it into the sand, and she’d never even seen it coming.
But when the distinctive noise of an incoming boat caught her ear, her heart had started beating again, surprising her, frankly. And now her brain had kicked in, as well, as she considered and discarded a dozen options for evading this unknown threat.
So, Rafael was not the only one with an exaggerated survival instinct, she thought, her face pressed to the rough surface of the deck.
“Rafael, cabrón, show yourself, you thieving coward!” The voice was distorted by a megaphone, but Olivia recognized it instantly. It had become very familiar during all those long, chatty strolls down the beach.
Olivia slithered forward on her stomach until she reached the helm. With one hand she reached up, turned the key and pressed the ignition button. The boat, dear old thing, sputtered to life. Manuel turned and stared at her, goggle-eyed.
“What are you doing?” he yelled.
“I’m getting us the heck out of here,” she yelled back, and, still in a crouch, pulled the throttle back until the boat began to move. She stood up then. “Hold on,” she warned Manuel, and shot the throttle to the limit.
The boat leapt forward, impressing Olivia once again with its power. But it wasn’t enough. Not nearly.
The other boat was upon them before Olivia had a chance to maneuver her boat out of the cove and onto open water. It had been a futile attempt, and she knew it, but she wasn’t about to allow Ernesto Cervantes to shoot her down like a dog.
“Shut it down,” the megaphone voice called to her over the water.
She didn’t bother to look over, just kept her eyes on the open water ahead.
“Shut it down, Olivia. We just want Rafael and his partner. You are free to go back to your country.”
She could brazen this out. She knew she could. He’d only hit her on that dock because she’d been standing there like a lump. Now she was a fast-moving target. Not only was her boat roaring through the water, but her knees were knocking together so hard she didn’t think anyone in the world could get a clean bead on her.
Manny came up behind her. “Stop this damn boat,” he screamed at her.
“No. Shoot at them!”
“Are you crazy? They have three men with guns pointed right at you.”
“Shoot at them.”
“Dammit, Dr. Galpas, if you get yourself killed, Rafe is going to have my huevos.”
“I’m warning you, Olivia,” the megaphone voice said. “You are interfering with Mexican law.”
She snapped her head around to glare at him. “You’re not the law! You shot me,” she screamed.
“I was aiming at the drug smuggler, Olivia. I was rescuing you.”
“I have had enough of being lied to,” she yelled, and turned the wheel just enough to bump the speedboat. She caught a glimpse of the skipper’s face as he swung his boat to avoid her. He looked genuinely horrified. Olivia laughed tersely.
“Stop the boat,” Manny ordered. “You’ll never outrun them.”
Olivia worked her jaw. No, she couldn’t stop. She knew Cervantes wasn’t going to get her off this boat just to let her go. She’d rather take her chances with the Sea of Cortéz. It had always been her friend.
“This is your last warning, Dr. Galpas,” Cervantes cautioned her.
She raised her hand and gave him a distinctly American indication that she was unwilling to cooperate.
Cervantes shot the proverbial cannon across the bow. Only it wasn’t proverbial, it was real, and Manny hit the deck behind her.
“You crazy woman,” he screamed at her. “Kill the engine!”
She did. Shut it right down and stopped dead in the water. Then, while Cervantes’s boat zipped past her going full speed, Olivia gunned the boat into reverse.
Manuel was right. She’d never outrun them in this tug, gutsy as it was. She’d have to outrun them on dry land.
Manny got to his knees, stared first out the back of the boat at the approaching shoreline, then back at Olivia.
Cervantes was shouting hysterically at his driver, and when Olivia looked back at them she could see they were turning. They’d be on top of her and Manny again in an instant.
Olivia set her jaw. Fine. She’d be beached in an instant.
“Hold on,” she shouted to Manny.
The boat hit the beach with a thunderous, shaking crash. Olivia, tossed back on her butt, heard gravel suck into the manifold of the engine and said a quick prayer for the brave little boat. It had done itself proud.
She shot to her feet as soon as she stopped skidding backward, and with the skirt of her orange dress hiked to her hips, ran for the stern, Manny hot on her heels. She jumped on top of the cushions of the bench seat and, without a moment’s hesitation, leaped into the shallow surf. She fell to her knees but struggled up again at once. She didn’t bother to look for Manuel. If he wasn’t with her, then she’d have to go it alone.
But he was with her, muttering about lunatic asylums and straight jackets as they plowed up the beach. Behind them, Cervantes was screaming at his driver to beach the expensive craft. Olivia knew he’d never do it. Once a man had piloted a boat as gorgeous and responsive as that one, he’d never hurt her. Men were much more careful with boats than they were with women, Olivia mused.
“Why aren’t they firing at us?” Olivia yelled over her shoulder at Manuel.
“I don’t know. Just run, maniaca,” Manuel shouted back.
I’m not a maniac, Olivia thought desperately. I only want to stay alive so I can make that Rafael Camayo pay for breaking my heart.
They reached the dunes just as Olivia heard splashing behind her. So Cervantes wanted her enough to swim for her, did he? Maybe the sharks would get him before he reached the beach.
No such luck. She could hear him shouting for someone to search the fishing boat for Rafe and Bobby, then shrieking at her to stop. She took another dune at a dead run. She’d never stop running. She’d never let the bastard get her. He’d have to shoot her first.
A single shot rang out. Olivia braced for the impact in the back of her head, but it never came. And she took another ten strides before she realized Manuel was no longer running at her side.
Oh, no. No. She glanced back over her shoulder in time to see Cervantes emerge from the surf a hundred yards back, lowering his weapon to his side. Manuel lay facedown in the dune, the sand beneath him soaking up his blood.
Ay Dios. Ay Dios.
She’d never in any nightmare expected to see something like this. She’d known there were people in the world who would so casually take the lives of others, but she’d never imagined she would see it firsthand.
She stumbled, wild-eyed and terrorized, but righted herself. She was going to die, she was going to die, just like Manuel. Oh, Manuel. I’m so sorry, Manuel.
Another shot was fired, another warning given, but Olivia kept running. The voices were fainter. She didn’t know if it was because of the drone like a million bees in her head, or because she was outrunning them.
It didn’t matter. She only knew that she had to keep running. Olivia never knew where the resolve came from. She was strong and agile, had been all her life. She just hadn’t known she was so damn tough. Funny how a terrified
woman with a broken heart could run so hard.
She fled into the dunes.
Chapter 13
The sun was almost directly overhead by the time Rafe saw the two matching, safari-green Land Cruisers traverse the winding road that led to the beach.
“Finally,” he breathed.
“Let the games begin,” Bobby murmured at his side.
Rafe scrutinized the dunes behind them. “Wonder where our backup is?”
“You don’t think they’ll be in position?”
“We don’t even know if they all made it back from La Paz. I wish we had the damn phone, or a radio or something.”
“So do we follow the plan, or wait to see if we have backup?”
“We follow the plan. If they don’t show…” His voice trailed off.
“We’re up against Cervantes and his goons on our own,” Bobby finished. “Not to mention the boys in the boat, there.”
“We’ll wait as long as we can. Maybe they’ll pull out before Cervantes leaves. If not, I’m sure they’ll take off at the first sign of trouble. They’re just the delivery boys.”
Bobby watched the incoming vehicles. “So long as we land the big fish, the guppies can swim all the way back to the mainland.”
Rafe scowled at his partner. “You have a way with words.”
“I know.”
“A bad way.”
Bobby chuckled. “Olivia thinks I’m a riot.”
Rafe grunted noncommittally and allowed his gaze to wander back to the beach. Casually. No sense letting Bobby know he was only half in the game. That his other half, the best part of who he was, was still in that little bunk with Olivia, holding her for the last time.
He rolled his lips over his teeth, disgusted with himself. That the mere mention of her name would make him hurt was unacceptable. He had another sixty years on this earth to live without Olivia; he couldn’t let his stomach drop to his feet and his chest swell painfully every time he heard her name. Or thought of her. Or came within a hundred miles of the scent of the ocean.
