by Karen Fenech
She hadn’t planned on saying more on the subject, but Burke appeared intrigued.
She shrugged. “One year, I think I was about nine, my dad planned a camping trip with the boys. It was supposed to be some adventure - a man thing - my oldest brother told me. There was just enough of a challenge in his voice that there was no way I was going to be excluded from the trip. I went to my dad,” her voice softened with the memory, “and asked him to take me along. He’d not meant to exclude me, he said, which I knew was the truth. He’d just presumed that I wouldn’t be interested. Frankly, he was thrilled that I wanted to go along. My brothers put up a fuss, of course, but Dad would not have left me behind if I wanted to go along.
“That trip was four days in a bush with no amenities. Dad planned fishing and a nature hike and so our scent would blend with our natural surroundings, we didn’t bathe in that time.” Eve rolled her eyes. “We were pretty ripe by the end of it.”
Burke smiled and leaned toward her. He sniffed audibly. “You smell wonderful.”
Eve’s smile spread. “This scent is one of my blends. I have to admit it’s one of my favorites.”
“It’s great.”
“We also develop men’s aftershave.”
Burke laughed. A rich sound she’d not heard from him. “I’ll have to check that out.”
“Burke . . . it was nice . . . today. Thank you.”
“Day’s not over. It’s a beautiful night for a swim. How about it?”
“Why not?”
* * *
She’d packed a modest one piece swimsuit, intending to spend some time at the hotel’s pool in between the events she’d registered for at the conference. She slipped into it and returned to the living room. When Burke emerged from the bathroom, clad only in black swim trunks, Eve was treated to the view of his magnificent body. Broad shoulders. Clearly defined abdominal muscles. Long, hard muscled legs. It had been a long time since Eve had taken inventory of a man’s body. Somewhere in the last five years, since Emily’s death, and the end of her marriage, Eve had lost interest in men. Interest in sex.
She averted her gaze from Burke. In one hand he carried his cell phone. With the other hand, he held the door open for her to precede him and they walked out into the night. Moon light silvered the water that lapped softly against a floating dock anchored to a post and the aluminum hull of Burke’s fishing boat.
Burke stepped onto the dock. It pitched and swayed with his weight. He reached back and held out his hand for her. Eve placed her hand in his for an instant as she stepped onto the dock then, gaining her balance, hastily withdrew it. If Burke noticed her abrupt end to the contact with him, he said nothing.
She walked to the edge of the dock and lowered her foot into the water. She hastily withdrew it. In comparison to the warm, balmy air, the water felt ice cold.
“That’s not the way to do it.” Burke placed his cell phone on the dock then smiled like a shark. “This is the way.”
He scooped her into his arms. Eve knew what was coming. She shrieked and grabbed his neck. Burke laughed and stepped off the dock with her in his arms.
She came up sputtering, arms flailing. But Burke hadn’t left her once they’d gone under water. One arm had remained around her waist, was still around her waist, as he emerged, bringing her to the surface with him.
“I’m okay,” she said.
He released her and she treaded water. “It’s nice once you’re in.”
Burke’s grin gleamed in the moonlight. “Told ‘ya.”
Eve laughed as he repeated the phrase she’d spoken to him about the dandelions.
Burke dove below the surface. As Eve watched the water ripple gently in his wake, she thought, he was right: It was a beautiful night for a swim and just what she needed to ease some of the tension twisting her into knots.
Somewhere on land crickets chirped. She found the sound rhythmic and oddly soothing.
Burke broke the surface, coming up beside her. She felt in the mood to stretch her legs. In the distance, a trio of buoys, tied to a rope, bobbed in the water.
“Race you to the buoys and back,” she said. She could feel the wide smile on her face. “Be warned, though, I competed in college.” She wiggled her brows. “And I always won.”
“Oh - a challenge - I love it! Say when!”
Eve’s grin widened. “When!”
She executed a perfect leap then dive that gained her several lengths as years of training reasserted themselves. Even allowing for the slight current that was present in the lake and not in a pool, Eve ate up the distance, stretching her legs and widening her stroke, easily finding her stride. Burke wasn’t by her side. She slowed, taking a moment to glance up at the stars. She never saw the stars from her townhouse in L.A. City lights dulled the night. Here, the view was breathtaking.
She was caught up in the view when Burke streaked by her. He’d moved like an eel, barely disturbing the water. Eve felt a smile spread across her face again and dove after him.
She put her all into the swim. She reached him and then with a smug glance he couldn’t miss, passed him. At the buoys, she turned around. Burke was a mere half-length behind her now. She was laughing and she had to admit, panting, when she reached the dock an instant before he did. She looped one arm around a low rail on the dock, allowing the structure to keep her afloat. Burke pushed sopping hair back from his face then positioned himself in front of her and did the same.
He grinned. “You’re good.”
Eve nodded. “You should have seen me when I was competing.”
Burke’s gaze fixed on her. “You must have been quite a sight,” he said softly.
Eve’s heart, just now slowing to its normal rhythm, thumped. She focused on Burke. His eyes had darkened and his gaze was now intent on her. He raised his arm slowly from his side and brought it to her cheek. His gaze still on hers, he caressed her skin with his thumb.
Eve’s breath caught. This was Burke. The man who believed her a traitor. She should pull back. Instead, when his lips parted slightly and he moved toward her, Eve moved to him.
His breath mingled with her own as their lips touched in a light, soft, caress, then Burke murmured something unintelligible, his hand lowered from her cheek to her waist and he brought her flush against him. She connected with his hard muscled body. A thrill coursed through her and she dug her fingers into his shoulder. Burke deepened the kiss, slanting his mouth across hers, opening his mouth. When his tongue slid between her parted lips, Eve met it with her own.
Her heart was racing now well beyond what it had been during the swim. Each breath came shallow and audible. She was quivering. Pressed against Burke, she felt every gasping breath he took and she felt the proof of his rampant desire pulse against her.
Something rang. Then again. Eve blinked then realized the ringing was from Burke’s cell phone. He’d set it down on the dock, she recalled.
Burke’s mouth left hers. He looked up through the wooden slats to the dock above them then drew back, releasing her. He was breathing hard. The tendons in his arms were taut. He shook his head as if to clear it, then rubbed a hand down his face. He reached up, grabbed the edge of one wooden plank and vaulted onto the dock.
Eve swam away from the rail she’d been holding. For some reason, the water now felt ice cold. Goose bumps pebbled her flesh.
She swam slowly, taking time to shake off what had almost happened with Burke. She’d literally been saved by the bell. Catastrophe averted. But where was the relief that should accompany that thought? She closed her eyes. It wasn’t relief she was feeling.
By the time she reached Burke, he was closing his cell phone. Eve seized the dock as he had and hoisted herself up. Burke crouched, grasped her at the waist, and lifted her up beside him. Then he stepped away from her. The night air was chill. She picked up the towel she’d hung over the railing and draped it around her shoulders like a shawl.
“That was Lanski,” Burke said. “Did Richard Patterson ever me
ntion meeting Alasdair McHampton?”
Burke was all business again. “No, though Richard wouldn’t have,” Eve said. “He didn’t know of my friendship with Allie. We didn’t speak of personal things. But of course they weren’t acquainted, Allie would have mentioned it.”
“Would he?”
“Of course. And he certainly would have greeted you differently at the conference when I introduced you as Richard.”
“My people learned that both Richard Patterson and Alasdair McHampton attended a small suburban chemist’s conference several years ago. When Lanski asked him about Patterson, McHampton said he never knew a Richard Patterson until Dr. Collins introduced him to her business partner.”
“If that’s what Allie said, then that’s it.”
“The fact that Patterson and McHampton were both at that conference bothers me.
But, at this point, we have nothing more to link the two, so, yeah, as it stands now, that’s it.”
Eve nodded.
“Lanski is asking McHampton if he saw anyone handle your purse.”
Eve didn’t hold out any hope that Allie had. If he had seen anyone with her purse, he would have mentioned it to her.
“I’m heading back,” Eve said. “See you in the morning.”
* * *
Burke watched her go, watched the gentle sway of her shapely derriere in the swimsuit. A few moments earlier, he’d had his hands on that beautiful part of her anatomy. His hands tingled with the desire to touch her again.
He shook his head. Eve was a suspected traitor. She was in his charge. Again, he asked himself: What was the matter with him?
She was attractive, yes, but he’d been attracted to other women many times, and hadn’t been eaten up by the attraction.
That’s what was happening to him. He was consumed by his attraction to Eve. He wanted to take her to bed so badly he couldn’t think of anything else. He’d never had it this bad for any other woman.
Consumed by his attraction. But it was more than that. His attraction was more than sexual. He admired her courage that she’d displayed in this situation. He didn’t know many others who would have taken death threats, and an accusation of treason with the fighting attitude she’d shown. She was a fighter, all right. From what he’d read in her file, she’d needed to be, given what she’d been through in the last years. Dismissal from the LAPD. The end of her six-year marriage. He’d read the profile on her. His fact sheets, though, summarized those events. They hadn’t revealed the devastating impact they must have had on her life.
Those events took place on the heels of the death of her daughter. Eve was so hurt. The thought of her in pain unsettled him. He didn’t like the fact that it did.
She’d gotten under his skin.
He had to get her out.
He rolled his shoulders to ease the tension there. A few more days and this would all be over. She would be out of his life. He would get back to his. The thought should have satisfied him. It didn’t.
* * *
A cool breeze blew in through Eve’s bedroom window, fluttering the gauze curtains. She was in bed but couldn’t sleep. Small wonder. She was so churned up about Burke. He’d commented on her scent but his own - soap mixed with his own male smell - had intoxicated her.
He hadn’t shaved that day and the dark stubble on his cheeks and chin made him look sexy. When he’d taken her in his arms she’d been up close to his tough, hard body, and felt each discreet muscle.
And she’d seen blatant desire in his eyes.
She wanted him, too. The admission stunned her. She hadn’t been with a man since her marriage ended. Casual sex was available, should she have wanted it. She thought of Matt Deligne. She hadn’t wanted it, though. She’d told herself that casual sex wasn’t for her, and with Matt or any other man of her acquaintance that’s all there would be. She told herself she was a relationship person. The desire to get to know a man well enough to want to go to bed with him had just never been there. But here and now, alone, in the dark and the quiet, she admitted the truth: She had simply stopped wanting sex. Her desire for sex had been gone for five years.
It was there now. In spades. With Burke.
It would have been handy to tell herself that after a five-year abstinence her body’s natural sexual urge had reasserted itself. But she knew that wasn’t the case. What she was feeling didn’t stem from him as a man, but as the man.
He’d awakened feelings in her she’d thought dead. She should be applauding. Had the situation not been what it was, she would have acted on the desire she was feeling.
But their circumstances were what they were. As attractive as she found him, he was intent on proving her a traitor. If that didn’t tamp down her desire, nothing would.
She rolled over. The short nightie she’d changed into after the swim bunched around her waist and she adjusted it. Her pillow was warm. She turned it over then flopped onto her back. She was making so much noise in here could Burke hear her in the outer room? She couldn’t hear him. He was probably sleeping.
A branch snapped outside the cabin, jolting Eve from her thoughts of Burke. She sprang out of the bed. She crept to the window and flattened herself against the wall. The scent of pine wafted in on the breeze. She peeked out through the break in the curtains. The trees and underbrush outside her window were distinct in the moonlight, and all there was to see at the moment. Of course, if someone was out there, he’d hardly be standing in the open for her to view. Particularly since he’d stepped on a twig and put himself at risk.
Burke said no one knew about this place. To his knowledge, anyway. Eve wouldn’t dismiss the possibility that someone had followed her and Burke here. Maybe wanting another try at killing her. It was frightening to think that, but also exhilarating. So far, she and Burke hadn’t been having any success in identifying the one who wanted her dead. They needed a lead. Another attempt on her life would give them that and she would be glad of it. Even if it meant facing a killer.
Eve ducked beneath the window and returned to the bed where she’d left the shoes she’d worn earlier. She slipped them on then, keeping close to the walls, tiptoed out of the bedroom and into the short hallway beyond. The thick blue curtains in the outer room were drawn, effectively blocking any outside light. A small lamp on the long counter that separated the kitchen section from the living room glowed, and provided enough light for Eve to see the shadows of the furniture and to make out the front door.
A large shadow was making its way to that door at the moment. The arm was extended above the tall silhouette’s head. At the end of it, was the outline of a gun. Eve knew that silhouette: Burke. He must have felt her gaze - or maybe he just sensed another presence in the room with him - because he turned to her.
“Burke!” She hissed his name loud enough for him to identify her and not shoot.
But he’d recognized her as well, she realized. Had known she was behind him before he’d turned. His gun hand had not wavered.
Eve met him by the door. “I guess you heard it, too.”
“Yeah. Stay here while I check it out.”
“No. I’m going with you.”
“Stay here.”
Eve shook her head. “If someone’s followed us, we need to make sure he doesn’t get away. We need to flank him, cutting off his escape routes.”
“He might not be seeking escape. The noise might have been deliberate. A means to flush us out so he could take a shot. Stay here.”
“More likely flush you out,” Eve said. “Take you out first, then come inside and finish me. It’s unlikely he’ll be expecting both of us. I was a cop, remember? I know what I’m doing.”
Burke’s jaw tightened. A muscle there flexed briefly. “Hold on a minute.”
Eve stared after Burke as he disappeared into his room, currently being occupied by her. What was he doing? They didn’t have time to waste; but he was back quickly. He held out a gun.
“Take it.”
Eve lowered her e
yes to the gun and then raised her gaze to him. The gesture of trust surprised her and touched her.
“Ready,” Burke asked.
She nodded and closed her fingers around the gun butt.
Burke opened the door. Eve recalled her training and without either of them uttering a word, they slipped into standard police practice. Burke went high, Eve low, as they checked out the immediate area. The soft moonlight gave off a faint glow that wasn’t overly bright, but still, Eve felt exposed. Again, she took in the tall trees and wide bushes, but that was all. No one stood outside the door, or pressed against a thick tree trunk.
Her work with fragrance kept her keenly aware of the scents around her. The sharp tang of pine and earth, still damp from the rain of the night, hung in the air. She couldn’t detect any other fragrance. No spicy deodorant or cologne that would indicate someone other than herself and Burke was in the vicinity.
