The dog plopped on the floor, his back against the bar, shut his eyes, and fell asleep.
“Poor little guy. He’s tuckered,” she said.
“It was probably a rough few days,” Kane said. “It’s a good thing we showed up. Remind me to thank Enzo.”
“I’ll even buy him a drink,” she said, scratching the dog’s ears. “Right after I smack him for trying to kill us.”
“He’s a complicated man,” he said.
“It’s a complicated situation,” she responded.
Understatement. Their charge was asleep. Smart dog. Get rest when you can.
“How about a fire?” Holly asked, filling the silence.
The sky had turned hot pink as the sun sank, the air cooled as a breeze blew in over the Atlantic, and he was alone with a barely clad Holly. But the cabin was dry as a bone, and unless they wanted to take turns tending it, a fire was out of the question. “No matches. Even if I could start a fire from nothing. The beach is washed out for a few hours, and if we start one here, I’m afraid we’ll burn the place down. And by place, I mean everything on the entire island.”
She gave a slow nod. “Then what?”
Their clothes were still damp, but he laid them on the ground. They wouldn’t keep the two of them warm, but it beat sleeping on dirty wooden planks. “We manage without and share body heat and the thermal blanket,” he said. It sounded sensible. Smart. Their only choice.
The idea of sleeping next to his partner made Kane’s palms sweat and his mouth go dry.
…
She should not have had the rum.
Holly mentally kicked herself, resisting the urge to snuggle closer to Kane. He’d been right. It wasn’t freezing, but it was cold enough to make her shiver. Her back to his chest, he wrapped his arm round her waist, keeping her pressed tight against his skin.
She tensed, but the warmth of his body was irresistible. Relaxing, she snuggled closer, telling herself that it meant nothing. He was asleep. He’d never know. Warming, she closed her eyes, but her mind raced back to a few hours ago when they’d kissed in the bedroom. The taste of his mouth. The feel of his hands on her lower back, working their way under her shirt.
Could it only have been a few hours?
“We’re going to have a lot of catching up to do when we get back to the assignment,” Kane said, his voice half asleep in her ear.
Dammit. “I know,” she replied, embarrassed to be caught snuggling but grateful for anything that took her mind off the fact she was sleeping on the floor. “We’re not that far off track, are we?”
“As long as someone picks us up first thing, I think we’ll stay on schedule,” he replied, his breathing deep. His hand shifted, gliding from her waist to her hip, the tips of his fingers on the hem of her panties. Was he doing that on purpose? Was he even fully awake?
“Bravo will take care of it,” she replied.
“Of course he will,” Kane said, sounding more awake and a bit annoyed. His hand fell away, letting the chill back in.
She turned in his arms, not wanting to leave the warmth, and as much as she hated to admit, it, she’d liked the closeness they’d developed since they washed up on the island. It was…unexpected.
A part of her was reluctant to let it slip away. “You don’t like Bravo, do you?”
Pale silver light from the rising moon spilled in through the cracks in the roof and the dirty windows, offering just enough light for her to make out his face. “I don’t dislike him.”
“What is it?”
He leaned up on an elbow. “I respect him as an agent. He gets the job done, and he’s a good thief. Not as good as you but close.”
“Sounds dreamy. So, what’s the issue?” she asked, wanting a glimpse inside her partner’s mind.
“He isn’t someone I would aspire to be.”
“His reputation with women?”
His silence told her more than words ever could, confirming that Kane was the guy you took home to the family. Not a man you walked away from once the fun was over. If he thought that of Bravo, what did he think of her? “Do you think less of me for wanting him as my fake fiancé?”
“No. He’s the better actor—we both knew that.” He wasn’t lying or holding back. She sensed it in his words. Heard it in his voice. He didn’t know the real reason—that she’d wanted the agent in her bed.
Her head told her there was nothing wrong with lust. This wasn’t the middle ages, and she wasn’t a prude.
Still, the heat flooded her cheeks. “Thanks for trusting me,” she said, making a silent promise that he’d never find out her true motivation for being excited to pair with Bravo.
“I know we don’t always see eye-to-eye, but we make a good team—”
“—when we’re not fighting.”
He chuckled. “Yeah. There is that.”
She smiled, surprised to find herself happy to be stranded with Kane. “We’re not arguing now.”
Silence.
Then his mouth was on hers.
She didn’t hesitate but kissed him back, opening her mouth as his tongue teased the edges of her lips. He tasted like sweat and rum, and she wanted him. With a sigh, she slid her hand up his chest and wrapped her arm around his neck, pulling herself to him as his hand slid from her hip to the small of her back.
With a surprising skill, he rolled her over until she was on top of him, their legs twined together. He kissed a path from her mouth to her throat, biting the sweet spot between neck and shoulder.
Her breath hissed out from between her teeth, and she found herself twisting against him, wanting to strip off the little bits of cloth that kept them apart.
“Holly,” he whispered. Winding his hands through her hair, he turned her head and kissed her hard. His mouth almost bruised hers, but it only made her want him more. He might act like the guy you took home, but he kissed like the bad boy on the motorcycle.
Releasing her, his hands lid down her back, under the waist of her panties, his hands squeezing her half-bared bottom.
She groaned at the need that washed over her, and he hardened beneath her.
Who knew all this passion was inside the proper outer shell that Kane presented to the world? A knee on each side of him, she rose, reached behind to unhook her bra…and spotted two glowing eyes watching them.
“What is it?” Kane asked, his voice rough.
“Mr. Wiggles. He’s watching us.” She let her arms fall, bra still in place. He might be a dog, but she didn’t want an audience.
She watched Kane in the moonlight, as he let his head drop back against the cloth-covered floorboards in sexual frustration, wanting him so much she ached. But she knew that the interruption was for the best.
She’d been involved before with men who weren’t from the circus, and when they met her family—her wonderful, large, colorful family—it always ended the same way. They ran.
If she was ever going to have a real relationship, it would be with someone who understood the world she came from—crazy, unpredictable, working class. The exact opposite of the world Kane had been born to, the perfectly mannered, upper-crust world they would head back to when Bravo rescued them. Could you imagine Mr. Rich and Uptight at ease with a crowd that included Alyssa the bearded lady, Fernando the rescue-dog trainer, and the Flying Boreckyi Family? In the meantime, it was best to date slightly left-of-center men who were capable of coping with surprises.
Something she didn’t see Kane capable of doing.
“It’s for the best,” Kane said, as if reading her mind. “We don’t want to complicate things.”
“Of course not,” Holly replied, placing a palm on his well-muscled chest and enjoying it for just a moment, before she used that hand to push back and roll off of him. The last thing she needed was a preppy, upscale, hyper-scheduled boyfriend, but the words still hurt.
Kane patted the space between them, “Come on, Mr. Wiggles. Come here.”
Tail thumping, Mr. Wiggles sidled forward and
wedged himself between their bodies, panting happily. He was stinky, warm, and seemed to appreciate the attention.
As always, animals were easier to deal with than people.
With a contented chuff, Mr. Wiggles flattened out, and despite the disappointment, Holly smiled at Kane over his prone body.
“I’m glad you like animals,” she said, petting Mr. Wiggles.
“Who doesn’t?”
“The person who left him here to die.”
“Good point.”
Silence took over, and it wasn’t uncomfortable, but she found she wasn’t ready for it. He’d shared a few tidbits of his life with her. Perhaps it was time for her to do the same. “You know, the rumors are true. I grew up in a circus,” she said, sinking her fingers in Mr. Wiggles’s fur.
“Really?”
She smiled at the surprise in his voice. Growing up in a circus never failed to garner attention. even if the reality ultimately drove many prospective dates away. Telling Kane was probably a sure-fire way to ensure that things between them would go back to being platonic. “Really, but not the kind with elephants or tigers or anything.”
“What other kind is there?”
She rubbed Mr. Wiggles’s ears, and the dog let out a contented sigh. “Acrobats. Fire-eaters. Some horses and dogs, but that’s about it as far as animals go.”
“Don’t the exotics bring in more money?” Kane asked.
She nodded. “They do, and we kept some at one point but that was years ago. When the owner died, the new ringmaster, Santos, found sanctuaries for all the animals.”
“Why?” He propped himself up on one elbow as she spoke. The moonlight created patterns on his muscled body, but shadowed his face, making him difficult to read.
She continued, “Santos said they were too expensive and controversial, but my mom said that it wasn’t the money or the bad press. He thought keeping wild animals in cages for entertainment was bad karma and a dark spot in his soul that would come back to haunt him.”
“Even without the tigers and elephants, it sounds like a kid’s dream,” Kane said.
If he only knew.
But she didn’t plan to tell him that without the exotics, the troupe didn’t make as much money. That information was private, and while she might not work with the circus anymore, they were her family. Always would be.
He continued, “—and it explains the extraordinary skills.”
She disregarded the praise. “Stealing is easier when you’ve been trained to take calculated risks from the moment you could walk.”
“Is that why you fight me when I try to tell you what to do?” he asked, reaching over the now-sleeping dog and tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.
She shivered, but this time, it wasn’t the cold. “You don’t know what I can do.”
He hesitated then gave her a slow nod. “I’m starting to figure that out.”
Chapter Seven
“Why are you staring at me?” Holly whispered. The morning light trickled in through the windows, brightening the small room. The dog was gone, and Kane stared at her, sleepy-eyed but curious in the golden glow. It was dreamlike. Unreal.
“Accident,” he whispered back.
She didn’t buy it. The way his eyes met hers was more than an accidental look. He savored her. Took her in—all of her.
She liked it. “Where’s Mr. Wiggles?”
“By the bar,” he nodded toward the back wall, then yawned and closed his eyes.” I think I kicked too much,” he murmured.
She hadn’t noticed, but she’d been told that when she slept, it took the equivalent of a grenade to wake her. She slid her arm under her head for a pillow, surprised at the random banter. It was so unlike Kane.
Neither had been themselves since yesterday. “Why are you whispering?” she asked, half-shutting her own eyes and relaxing into drowsiness.
“You started it.”
She laughed, amazed to find that even in the light of day, she was glad to semi-wake up with Kane and not Bravo. The other agent had the reputation with the women, but Kane intrigued her. Before she could think, she reached out and traced his mouth, her fingertips arching up then down to his lower lip, feeling the fullness.
He kissed her finger tips, and her breath caught in her throat. He still looked half-asleep, except for the one corner of his mouth that tipped up in a self-satisfied smile.
She’d stopped him last night. It was for the best. She knew that. She didn’t care. Didn’t want to care.
She wanted Kane.
She shifted her body a small, almost imperceptible, bit toward him, but it was enough. He pulled her closer, and she let herself fall into the moment. Clasping her hand to his mouth, he kissed a path from her fingertips up her arm and to her neck. Still kissing her, he turned her until her back was to him then stroked her hair aside, biting the back of her neck.
Her breath hissed through her teeth, and he chuckled in response.
Lips followed laughter as he kissed her shoulder blade, moving to her spine. “Morning.”
Indeed. She should stop him, but she didn’t want to. With the exception of last night, it had been almost a year since a man had touched her, and Kane was anything but a prude when it came to woman’s body.
Reaching her lower back, he guided her to her stomach then straddled her, a knee on each side of her thighs. His hands followed the path his mouth had traced earlier, his fingers rubbing her tense muscles, working out the aches and stiffness that came with sleeping on a wooden floor with only their clothes separating them from the dirt and splinters.
The heels of his hands dug into each side of her spine, and she groaned with pleasure at the unexpected massage.
“Why?” she asked as he worked his way down and then back up. “Why are you doing this?”
“Not sure,” he whispered, looking aroused, though slightly bewildered. “I…”
“Am I interrupting something?” a masculine voice asked.
She knew that voice. “Michael Bravo.” Funny how everyone either referred to him by his last name or used both names in rapid-fire succession. He was never just “Michael.”
Even as she processed the situation, Kane slid off. Holly flipped over and sat up. Their partner stood in the doorway, hands on his hips, the rising sun creating a glowing silhouette.
“Hi, Bravo. Thanks for the rescue,” Kane said. “And no, you weren’t interrupting.”
Just like that, the Kane she’d laughed with, kissed, was gone. Banished. She heard it in his voice. Saw it in his eyes. This was stick-in-the-mud Kane, back from the dead.
She flinched, his change a dash of cold water on her libido.
Bravo strode across the room, helping Holly to her feet. She dusted off her legs, trying to offer a nonchalance that she didn’t feel.
In the corner, Mr. Wiggles cowered, whimpering, capturing her attention. His brown eyes on Bravo, he peed on the floor.
Nurturing instincts she didn’t know were there roared to life.
Jerk men. Though she knew the anger wasn’t all about the dog. It was at herself for thinking that Kane could be different. That she might be different.
Approaching slowly as to not scare the canine, Holly managed to get close enough to let him sniff her hand. The Labrador shook his tail in his trademark whole body shake. Holly dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around his scruffy neck. “Can you two morons back off a bit? Can’t you see he’s scared?”
Bravo held his hands up, “Sorry. I didn’t notice.” His eyes skimmed Holly as she soothed the dog. “Have a good night?”
Ass. She’d forgotten she wore nothing but her bra and panties, and her hair was probably a tangled mess. She hated them both.
Kane moved, putting himself between her and Bravo. “We survived. What we’d like now is a vet and a shower. In that order.”
“Of course, boss.”
Boss. How could she forget?
“What did we miss?” Kane asked.
“Not
much. I got in late with no time to reconnaissance, sorry, and found you missing and some idiot named Enzo saying that you both took off so you could fool around. I didn’t want to blow your cover, so I pried the truth out of him as soon as I could.”
“I hope by ‘pry’ you meant ‘beat,’” Holly said, shaking out her shirt before slipping it on and buttoning it as fast as she could in a futile attempt to regain some semblance of professionalism.
“It only took a little arm twisting.”
“Disappointing,” Kane replied.
Holly slid on her shorts as Kane finished dressing. They left the crumbling shack, the dog trotting at her side. Once on shore, she spotted another sailboat fifty feet out in the water and safe from the rocky, underwater peninsula. A rowboat waited on the beach. Mr. Wiggles eyed the small craft with suspicion until Bravo opened a cooler and took out a biscuit, bacon, and egg sandwich.
Seconds later, the dog was at his side, treating Bravo as if he were his long-lost best friend.
“Bit of a whore, isn’t he?” Kane commented.
“Prostitute. Whores don’t get paid,” Holly said, trying to be funny, but even she heard the animosity in her voice.
Kane raised a brow at the tone but took up the oars while Bravo kept the dog occupied. Minutes later, they were at the sailboat. Holly watched as the men struggled to get Mr. Wiggles onboard, but once the dog had his paws on the deck, he searched and sniffed the craft as sure-footed as if he’d been raised on the water.
He probably was, Holly realized. After all, he had traveled to the island somehow.
The men readied the sails, and in minutes, they were on their way back to the mainland.
“What happened?” Bravo asked, the wind blowing his dark hair and the blue of the water making his eyes bright. He was as hot as she remembered—
Of course, it helps that he hadn’t slept on the floor of a cabin. She ran her hand through her hair, fingers snagging at the multiple snarls.
“About what?” Kane asked.
“I thought I was the fiancé. Why was I made the assistant?”
Holly cringed. Was Kane going to tell about her screw-up in the bedroom? She turned her gaze to the water, not wanting to watch Bravo’s reaction and wishing she didn’t have to hear.
Undercover With the Enemy Page 8
