A THOUSAND KISSES DEEP

by Wendy Rosnau

  She didn't intend to detail what those puzzle pieces were. This man would never understand, or believe her if she tried to explain it. She could hardly believe what she'd begun to remember herself. Maybe Simon's madness had finally rubbed off on her. Either way she was in too deep to turn back now.

  Her words didn't seem to appease him. In fact they seemed to add fuel to a smoldering fire that had started to burn in his eyes from the moment she had mentioned she was Merrick's informant. She saw his fists open, then close again. Saw his jaw clench tight.

  "Why are you looking at me like that?"

  "Because your bullshit game killed Sully Paxton, you little bitch. He never made it back to D.C. And Jacy Madox may never walk again."

  Eva blinked. She didn't know. Adolf Merrick hadn't mentioned any casualties. In defense of her actions, she said, "You're supposed to be the best special ops fighters at Onyxx. You're the rat fighters."

  "So it's our fault we got set up and shot to shit."

  Eva winced at his tone. She felt awful. No, she felt worse than that. She also felt cornered. "Yes. I mean, no. But…"

  He curled his hand around the handle of the knife sheathed high on his thigh and started to advance on her. Eva backed up. "What are you going to do, kill me?"

  "Something like that."

  "I have a deal with Merrick. You need me alive."

  "The game of the hour, Eva Creon, is run like hell." He motioned to the water. "Get going."

  She inched toward the edge of the rocks. Another few steps and she'd be forced into the water. "Wait!"

  "I'm giving you at least a chance. You've got a minute head start. Move!"

  * * *

  Chapter 7

  « ^ »

  Until now Sly had been sympathetic to Eva's situation. How could he help it, after listening to the tapes? She'd been living in hell. Still, this minute he wanted to strangle her. Sully was dead and Jacy's future would likely consist of him viewing the Montana mountains from a wheelchair off the front porch of his cabin.

  That one very poignant fact leaped to the forefront of everything else as Sly watched Eva dive into the water. He waited a full minute, breathing fire, and keeping his eyes on his watch. When the minute ran out, he pulled his goggles over his eyes and dived off the rock.

  Like a shark on the hunt, he headed straight for the passage that led to the open sea. She had exited the sump and was trying her damnedest to reach the surface when he saw her. He pulled harder with his arms, kicked faster with his legs, and easily gained on her. A few more kicks and he reached out, locked his hand around her ankle, and gave a hard jerk backward like he'd done before. Her momentum lagged, and with one quick calculated move, he was beside her, encircling her waist.

  She tried to twist free as he headed in another direction, thrashing and clawing at his arm. Her fight was impressive, but futile. Sly had no intention of letting her go. His entire reason for giving her a head start out of the cave was simply to prove to her that he was superior in strength and speed.

  He knew approximately how long she could stay underwater. He'd observed her earlier while she'd explored the shoals surrounding the skerry.

  He'd enjoyed watching her. She was as graceful as a mermaid. A competent diver. She could actually hold her breath for a long three minutes below the surface. But he could do better—another gift LeRoy had given him back in the day when his stepfather's psychotic boredom had extended to playing a game LeRoy liked to call, "How bad do you want to live, you little shit?"

  The game required a bathtub full of water, Sly scared speechless, and LeRoy's black disposition magnified by several empty bottles of whiskey.

  Sly scissor-kicked his powerful legs as he swam toward another cave passage. When she saw where they were headed, that he intended to enter another sump, she renewed her efforts to free herself.

  Her lungs couldn't be stinging already, he thought. They would eventually, then the stinging would become a slow burn, before they turned hot like someone had lit them on fire with a match. That's when you knew you were in trouble.

  No, Eva wasn't there, yet.

  Eva stopped fighting halfway through the cave passage. What was the point? It was too late now. Sly McEwen had proven to be stronger than she was, and unless he had a tank of air stashed somewhere around the next turn she wasn't going to last another minute.

  She had been in a number of sea caves in the past four years, but it hadn't been until last year that she had attempted any of them on her own, and never this one. Nemo had labeled this sump the death channel for a reason. He had explained that it was twice as long as any of the others and required air tanks to successfully reach the cave on the other end.

  She forced herself to relax, trying to conserve the last of her air. Why, she didn't know. She was going to die either way. She felt a wave of dizziness take her, then a burning sensation in her lungs.

  Death by drowning…

  She had never imagined that was how she would die. There were times when she had thought Simon would kill her by mistake. That he would take one of his games too far. Once she'd imagined being forgotten in the clothes chute. But never had she imagined that she would die surrounded by so much beauty.

  She closed her eyes, let her body go limp. In that second she felt Sly McEwen's arm loosen around her waist. Their momentum slowed, then stop completely. She blinked open her eyes, tried to focus on the small lights surrounding his water mask. His hand palmed the back of her head. Then he brought her close, covered her mouth with his and began sharing his air.

  The reality of what he was doing didn't register at first, but when she realized what he was offering, she greedily accepted the air and chose life over death. Within seconds she was lucid again, the burning in her lungs subsiding enough to allow her mobility.

  When she was in command of her senses, he was moving again, taking her with him once more as his legs propelled them farther into the deep.

  His power underwater was incredible, and unbelievable. He swam through the channel with the speed of an eel now. With renewed hope, Eva began to kick her legs and become a helpmate instead of a burden.

  Several seconds later the passage opened up and Sly McEwen started kicking his way to the surface, powering them upward until they broke out of the water like they'd been shot out of a cannon.

  Eva gasped and began to cough as he swam with her in tow until her feet touched bottom. He quickly picked her up then and carried her to a narrow strip of sandy shore, depositing her there without saying a word.

  Too exhausted to move, she lay there as he walked away from her. His breathing was a little irregular, but that was all. She studied his broad muscular back, then his sculptured ass and long legs in his water tights. She had known he was strong, but the word somehow seemed inadequate at the moment. After giving her his air, he should be as weak as she was. Shouldn't he be?

  He shook his head and shed the water that clung to him. Staring out over the water, he said, "Sully was a good agent. More than that—" he turned to face her, his jaw set, and his blue eyes drilling her with disgust "—he was a good man and my friend."

  Eva looked away, sick inside, and angry that he could so easily shame her into feeling guilty. He didn't know her. Didn't know how she'd been living. What she'd endured. He had no right to judge her.

  She'd never given any thought to anyone dying when she'd offered Adolf Merrick the location of Castle Rock. She only wanted him to reconsider giving her a copy of her father's file.

  Her lungs still hurting from the long swim through the sump, she said, "I'm sorry about your friend."

  "It falls short. If you were a man, I would have killed you down there."

  Unable to stand the contempt in his eyes, she glanced past him, noting that this cave was larger than the others, less rocky, and not as dark. The sandy beach was spare but comforting in a way she hadn't imagined it would be. She supposed coming so close to dying was affecting her thinking. How could she feel any amount of comfort
here with a man who wanted her dead?

  Across from where she lay were outcroppings of vertical rocks. She looked up and found the source of light—a fissure in the rock some thirty feet up allowed a slice of sky to peer through.

  "Simon's guards will be looking for me if I don't surface soon."

  "Let them look. They won't find you here."

  "They might."

  "Only if they're carrying air tanks on board. They're not."

  The comment was spoken with confidence. He must have found a way to inventory the guard's boat before they had left Lesvago to follow her. The thought reminded her of how he'd left her room in disarray.

  "Did you find anything of interest in my room this morning?"

  "I found the coffee too sweet, and the bed too soft." He glanced around, then up to the fissure. "If you're thinking of running, there's your escape route." He brought his eyes back to her. "Unless you were faking it down there and you really can hold your breath four and a half minutes."

  Four and a half minutes…

  Was that how long they had been underwater?

  The memory of what had transpired between them down there had her searching out his lips. He'd shared his air with her and it was the only reason she was alive. His lips parted, the smile that followed cold and smug, telling her he had locked into her thoughts.

  "So is the Chameleon's daughter a chip off the old block, Eva? Are you a player in his world, or do you have your own agenda? What are you looking for in that file?"

  She definitely had her own agenda. But she was done sharing information with him for the moment. She studied the man Merrick had sent to her. He had squatted down to lean his back against a sizable rock. There was a raw-looking scar on his shoulder. It was fairly recent. Had he gotten the injury while at Castle Rock?

  She looked past him to the water, contemplating what it would take to escape.

  "Four and a half minutes," he reminded, answering her silent question. "You don't have it in you."

  "So now what?"

  "Now you convince me that bringing you out of here alive is worth my trouble."

  There would be no convincing this man of anything if he didn't want to be convinced. Eva shook off the thought, as well as the first signs of a nasty migraine knocking at the base of her skull. Not now, she thought. She couldn't think clearly when her head was splitting in two. Correction, she couldn't think at all. Her migraines were of the debilitating kind. She would be at his mercy, and it was obvious Sly McEwen didn't know the meaning of the word.

  Before she lost her faculties and became a slug in the sand, she said, "I'm worth keeping alive. I'm your link to the Chameleon. I know where he's going to be in a few days," she lied. "I get the file and you get the location. It's a simple deal."

  "How do I know this isn't another trick? That you're not going to double-cross me like you did Merrick?"

  "Castle Rock is owned by the Chameleon. I told you why I gave Merrick that information."

  "Maybe this entire game has been orchestrated by you and your father. In the past he's targeted Onyxx agents. Maybe this is his way of weeding out the rat fighters."

  Her headache was on the move. Eva pressed her fingers to her temples as if that would, or could, delay the inevitable.

  "Another one of your famous headaches?" The ache inside her head was making her feel nauseated. Making it hard to speak. "Need a pill?"

  If only she had one, she thought.

  She rolled to her side and drew up her legs as she watched him shove to his feet and stalk toward her. She felt dizzy and she knew the color had left her cheeks. She closed her eyes, wanting to cry, refusing to give in to the weakness.

  He crouched beside her and studied her face.

  "Where are they?"

  She blinked open her eyes. "Where are what?"

  "The pills?"

  "In a waterproof pack onboard the skiff."

  "Poor place for them to be, don't you think?"

  She tried to sit up, but he shoved her back down and pulled his knife from his sheath. For a moment she thought he intended to kill her. Instead he drove the blade into the sand beside her and took her hand and curled it around the handle. "I spied some sea snakes down there. That's in case one decides to pay you a visit. I'll be back as soon as I can."

  He started to get up. Eva let go of the knife and grabbed his arm. "You can't leave me. What if—"

  "What if I don't come back? Then I guess you'll become a bone pile, won't you? Or you could use the knife."

  "Closer," she whispered, afraid of him, yet so very desperate.

  He leaned over her so his face was mere inches from hers. She could feel his breath on her cheek. Still smell the distinct scent of bay rum.

  "Merrick's men are supposed to be loyal. Are you?"

  "I extend my loyalty to a damn short list of people, Evy. Your name isn't on that list."

  Evy… An odd sensation came over her and she smiled feeling close to the name for some odd reason. "You have a nice face."

  "You have nice legs, and a memorable ass."

  "You're going to leave me here, aren't you?"

  "Tell me something to make me want to come back."

  Her head was pounding fiercely. She closed her eyes and tried to think of something that would ensure his return. She could tell him about the party. She could tell him that the Chameleon would be there. The location wasn't an option because she still didn't know where it was going to be held, but…

  She forced her eyes open, parted her lips to speak, but nothing came out. Sly McEwen was no longer there. He'd left her without making a sound.

  Sly made it through the sump in under four minutes. When he surfaced behind a sizable rock, he saw that the short stocky guard, the one with the hairy face, had boarded Eva's skiff. He dived for the anchor attached to the skiff and moved it closer to the outcropping of rocks, carrying the boat with him on the tide.

  When he surfaced, he heard the other guard yelling.

  "Hey, Gino, what are you doing with the boat? Why did you pull the anchor?"

  "I did nothing with the anchor, Ennis. A fish musta bitten the rope. You think?"

  "It would have to be a big fish."

  Sly saw Gino stand up and peer into the water searching for the reason the boat had gone adrift. Sly swam behind the rock again to listen to the exchange. "Where is she, Ennis?" Gino asked. "If we lose her we are dead."

  "She likes the caves. She's just down there lying on a rock," Ennis assured his friend.

  "Naked, you think? She has nice tits."

  "I like her legs. You can dream about your hands on her tits. Mine are on her legs wrapped around my waist."

  The men chuckled and exchanged more talk about what they would like to do to Eva Creon on an isolated sandy beach.

  Sly grew anxious. He glanced at his watch, and knew that for someone in pain, minutes seemed like hours. He didn't want Eva alone too long in the cave. Leaving the knife with her had been a stupid idea. So was that crack about her using it on herself if he didn't come back. He didn't think she would be stupid enough to try to swim the sump, but if she thought he'd left her, would she slit her wrists?

  He was angry with her, with good reason, but he wanted her alive.

  Aware he would have to create a diversion to speed things up, he slipped away from the rock and swam beneath the boat. Nudging the boat with his shoulder—like a big fish—he heard Gino cry out in surprise.

  "What was that, Ennis? Ennis, did you see it? Something hit the boat."

  "I saw nothing."

  Sly made another pass under the boat, rocking the skiff harder. On the third pass, he pitched the boat out of the water and forced Gino to lose his balance. As the man plunged headfirst into the water, Sly rocked the boat on its side, snagged Eva's bag and disappeared into the depths.

  Four minutes later he found Eva where he'd left her. Her eyes were closed, and her hand was curled around his knife.

  He left the water, opening her pac
k as he came to his knees beside her. He stripped off his vest and goggles, located the pills, then scooped her up and pulled her into his lap.

  "Come on, Evy," he muttered, "open your eyes."

  She blinked, stared up at him. "You came back," she whispered, her head cradled against his shoulder.

  "Open your mouth."

  She did, and he fed her the pills. She swallowed them, then took a swig of the juice he also found in her pack. She closed her emerald eyes seconds later and sank into him with a little shiver.

  Sly leaned against a rock and curled his arms around her body. "Sleep it off," he said. "I'll be here when you wake up."

  She snuggled closer and whispered, "I believe you."

  * * *

  Chapter 8

  « ^ »

  Two days later Sly stood on the deck of the Hector, an eighty-foot motor yacht, and looked out on the harbor of Mykonos at sunset. He was still waiting for Bjorn to return his phone call. The message he'd left two days ago had been short and to the point. Call me.

  It was possible that Bjorn wasn't back from Montana yet, but patience wasn't one of Sly's strong suits. Oh, he could be patient if he had his enemy in sight, waiting for him to make the wrong move, but the Chameleon's whereabouts was still anyone's guess, and he hadn't figured out how Simon Parish fit in yet. He'd looked into Parish's finances, and so far all his investments looked legit. Of course, that wasn't unusual. Even lunatics could be geniuses.

  When his cell phone rang, Sly pulled it from his pocket and looked at the number. Receiver to his ear, he said, "It's about time."

  "I just walked in. What's up?"

  "I need something."

  "Ask and you shall receive," Bjorn said. "At least that's the way it's supposed to work."

  "I need the file on Paavo Creon right away."

  "Last time we spoke you wanted just a picture. Now you want me to steal his entire file?"

  "Make two copies. Stash one, then bring me the other one."