God, the man was like a drug. He made her breath back up in her throat, made her forget all the reasons that this was not wonderful, but a very dangerous thing to do.
“That perfume of yours is driving me crazy.”
What did he mean? she wondered. All her perfume was gone, washed off in the ocean, and the scent from the broken bottle in her purse had long since evaporated. How could he smell anything but seawater on her skin? Miki meant to ask him that, but he was biting her ear, drawing the tender skin against his mouth and then she couldn’t think of anything but how it would feel if he touched her in other places with the same slow, delicious torture.
Her pulse played a rackety bass in her ears and she saw his arm clench, hard muscles perfectly outlined. She resisted the urge to glance lower and see how the rest of his body was reacting.
But she didn’t need to see because suddenly she could feel him clearly. And he was still wearing the damn gloves. It was too odd—but she didn’t care. Her knees were putty, she couldn’t think straight and she was praying he wouldn’t stop.
“There’s baby oil,” he said roughly. “I can smell it on your throat and right here behind your ear. Fresh and a little sweet—very sexy.”
“Massage.” Miki’s mouth didn’t seem to be working right. “At the hotel. The night before we left.” It was hard for her to remember back that far. Everything about her life before the crash had morphed into a gray blur. “How could you know that?”
He ignored the question. “They added some sort of ginger to the oil.” His mouth grazed the tender skin behind her ear while her brain shouted that this was reckless and stupid and she had to stop immediately.
But her body sighed and turned off the volume, immersed in the pure ache of his hands and mouth. How did he make her feel so greedy? She wasn’t sure that the answer mattered, of course. She was too lost in sensation to care.
He leaned closer, kissing the curve of her shoulder. “More baby oil. Sexy as hell.” He pulled her onto the cot beside him and opened the top button of her shirt.
“How did you know about the baby oil?” she rasped.
“Already told you. I’m very sensitive to chemicals.” He traced the line of her jaw and turned up her face, kissing her slowly while Miki’s toes curled. Every muscle turned to mush, and her brain along with them.
“Your cut—you shouldn’t be moving around.” She swallowed as his mouth brushed her collarbone.
Two more buttons slid open. His tongue feathered along the top of her lace bra.
“I’m fine. You did a great job.” He pulled her back into his arms and suddenly Miki was caught up by the power and heat and absolute control of his body against hers.
This had to be wrong, a quiet voice whispered. This could get her into a whole lot of trouble.
But Miki didn’t listen. Some deep restlessness made her turn her head until they were face-to-face, only inches apart, his breath stirring her hair. Her nipples felt hot and tight as he opened another button on her blouse.
“Nice bra.” He traced the front clasp. Something hard filled his eyes. “You could run away, you know. You could even tell me to stop.” His hand was warm between her breasts. “In fact, it might be a better idea if you did.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls.” With a man like this, there had to be dozens of women. Miki needed to remember that, to keep in mind that this was an illusion, a blip of insanity and nothing more.
Not that this was personal. He was a tough, amazing man and what woman wouldn’t want to feel that hard body against hers?
“No woman has ever stitched me up before, honey. Not too many have argued to make me put on my clothes, either,” he said wryly.
“So you’ve got a great body and you know it.”
His mouth brushed the hollow between her breasts. Miki’s palms went damp and her hands moved, sliding through his hair.
“Your body is what counts.” His tongue slid beneath the edge of her bra and she felt a sharp, ruthless tug of desire. “Trust me, it’s spectacular. And I owe you, so name your payment. Whatever you want, honey.”
Miki’s heart fluttered.
You, against the wall. No words, no promises, just more of this dark, shifting pleasure wrapped around me and within me while you turn me inside out.
“You—you don’t have to pay me back.” Her breath caught. His mouth cruised down one breast. There was only a flimsy layer of lace between her aching skin and his hot, searching mouth, and her body melted, wanting everything and wanting it now.
His lips curved as he studied her flushed and very aroused skin. “So you’re turning down my offer?”
No! “Yeah.” She took a ragged breath. “Not that it isn’t—Look, forget it, Max.”
Lace shifted.
His tongue brushed across one tight nipple and Miki bit back a moan of pleasure. She needed to stop him because if he did much more, she was going to come apart in his hands.
And he hadn’t even taken off her bra.
His warm breath touched her skin. “You’re amazingly sensitive right here.” His thumb slid along her nipple, flexing the clasp of her bra. But he stopped short of the movement that would free her flushed skin. “Do I keep going?”
Did he? Did she trust him—or herself for that matter?
How had things gotten so dangerous and out of control? With her next ragged breath she decided she didn’t really care. His eyes were hot and focused, but his hand shook slightly as he opened the last button on her blouse. And that single movement toppled Miki over the edge.
Tough as he was, Max was no more in control than she was.
She circled his hand—and instead of pushing him away, she gently bit the skin at the edge of his glove. “Take it off,” she ordered.
“I can’t,” he said grimly.
Miki’s fingers tightened in his hair. She was struck by a sharp wave of loss. She didn’t want any barriers, not when touching and being touched by him was as natural as breathing. But there were going to be some conditions and the gloves were number one on her list. “The gloves go.”
“Not happening.”
“Because?”
Something flashed through his eyes. “Because I said no.”
“Not good enough,” Miki said tightly, pulling away. She began to button her blouse, only to feel his hands close around her wrists.
“Why does it matter? Trust me, honey, you’re going to enjoy yourself either way. I’ll see to that.”
She shook her head. “You keep saying I have to trust you. But that works two ways. You’ll have to trust me, too. I haven’t touched any makeup or perfume since the crash, so there’s no reason for you to keep the gloves.” She gnawed at her lip thoughtfully. “If you have scars you want to hide, don’t worry. They won’t send me screaming into the night. I spent nearly two years in the hospital when…someone close to me was sick. Trust me, there’s very little in the way of scars that I didn’t see then.”
Max’s jaw hardened. “It isn’t about scars, Miki.”
“No? Then what is it about?” She glared at him. “The only answer is trust—and you don’t have it.” She turned away and finished buttoning her blouse. “Which means this conversation is over.”
He muttered a short curse. When Miki stood up, he followed her. The man was oblivious to being naked, but he wouldn’t consider ditching his gloves? She shook her head.
A moment later he was backing her out into a connecting tunnel, away from Dutch. His eyes were unreadable as he pinned her against the wall.
One glove dropped. Then the other.
Miki couldn’t look away. Somehow this gesture was more intimate than sex itself. The naked desire on his face made her heart jackknife.
The wall, she thought blindly.
She wanted him against her, inside her. Her hands dug at his shoulders. “Max.”
A muscle flashed at his jaw. Somehow she had known it would. “This is a bad idea, honey.” His voice was harsh.
�
��Like hell it is.” Miki pushed him back against the cool stone and her hands slid into his hair. Her leg moved of its own accord to wrap around his hard thighs.
He muttered a low curse, flipped open her bra and watched her breasts spill into his bare hands. A shudder ran through him as her fingers tightened in his hair. Miki heard him take a hoarse breath. “You’re ripping out my guts here, honey.”
It wasn’t smooth or poetic, but bluntly honest, and her body responded in a way that was shockingly wet and reckless.
She had never wanted a man like this.
Never even close, she thought dimly. Why now? Why him?
Then thinking was forgotten as she pressed him closer to the wall and bit his shoulders, feeling a surge of primitive delight when he cursed softly, his hands locked at the waist of her jeans. Denim hissed and parted, sliding over her hips.
One sheer layer of lace separated their locked thighs.
Miki closed her eyes, memorizing the feel of his body, stunned by the odd sense of safety she felt in his arms. But when his mouth closed, hot and wet, tugging at her taut nipple, safe was the last thing she felt. Dimly she sensed him turn and press her back against the cold rock. His hand trailed across her stomach, calluses scraping the sensitive skin.
When she shuddered, he slanted his mouth over hers and muttered her name as if it was an answer, not a question.
His fingers opened across her stomach, toying with the lace and then slipping underneath. Miki wriggled restlessly, trying to slide out of her last piece of clothing, but Max didn’t let her. “Take them off,” she rasped. “Hurry.”
“Like hell, I will.”
He sounded awed, which made no sense at all. Miki was too different, too tall, too awkward. She might turn heads occasionally, but it was because she was so—unexpected. Not cute or petite. Not soft or feminine.
And Miki had learned very young that different frightened the heck out of most people.
So there was no reason for him to look overwhelmed. “Why are you—” Her breath caught as he brushed her mouth and crooked one finger around the edge of her panties. His tongue slid over hers, perfectly textured to the movements of his finger.
She squirmed with need.
“Hurry,” she said again, her voice ragged. She felt his smile against her lips and then the lace shifted. She felt him slowly work the fabric down her hips. When her last shred of clothing pooled at her feet, the force of his eyes was almost tangible.
He took a hard breath. “Sweet God.” His fingers circled her waist and he slid his palm down her stomach, watching her body quiver. When she tried to move, his fingers tightened. “No, don’t move. Hell, you’re—gorgeous.” Then his hand opened, slid lower, molded against her hot, damp curls.
Miki closed her eyes, lost in sensation.
He spread her sleek skin and caught her moan against his mouth. “Closer,” he said hoarsely. “Lean against me.” She quivered as he slid one finger inside her. “Beautiful,” he whispered. And she slipped over an edge she couldn’t see and didn’t expect, every nerve tuned to unbearable clarity. When he slid another finger inside her, Miki felt her breath stop, her heart catch and then she was tossed into a place that felt like magic. Trusting him completely, she moaned his name when the first hot wave took her by surprise and she came, shuddering against his careful fingers.
They were strangers bound by something that felt achingly familiar.
There was no time for awkward awareness because he drove her up again, this time kneeling and running his tongue over her until she forgot everything but the hot friction of his mouth doing things no man should be clever enough to do.
There shouldn’t have been more, Miki thought blindly. She shouldn’t have felt her body move again, desire coursing in a new haze of madness until she whimpered and dug her nails into his shoulders, coming against him again.
Her knees buckled. Dimly she felt him rise and catch her, pinning her against the wall with his body.
With his gorgeously aroused body, she realized.
When she looked into his eyes, she swallowed. “What was that? I mean how did you—” She shivered as he tugged at her taut nipples.
“It’s not usually so fast for you?” There was something dark and possessive in his gaze. “You don’t come like this every time?”
Heat filled her cheeks. She wasn’t used to discussing her climax with incredibly sexy men who were still clearly aroused. “How about we drop this subject?”
“I need to know.” His fingers shifted inside her, slow and deep, and desire filled her like warm honey, making her body quiver all over again.
“I—” She swayed, giving a husky moan. “No.” The man didn’t really expect details, did he?
“And this…thing between us. The immediacy of it,” he said roughly. “You felt that, too?”
Miki nodded and focused on his face, trying to bite back a moan as he eased another finger inside her.
“Because it’s important. Something is going on here.” His eyes darkened. “Something beyond good sex.”
Make that fantastic sex, she thought. Astounding sex. But he was too controlled and Miki decided it was time to turn the tables. She feathered one hand over his hard stomach and traced his erection. “Do you mind?”
“Mind what?”
“Taking your hand out of—that place where it is.” Her voice was hoarse. “Doing that thing you’re doing.”
“You mean this thing?” His lips curved and his hand opened and he did something slow and amazingly erotic inside her that made her eyes cross.
“That. Cut it out.” She pressed one palm against his chest. “You’re too good at this. I need to think.” It was her turn to touch and goad and watch him lose control.
“Forget about thinking.” He worked her bottom lip between his teeth and frowned as if he was concentrating on something. Then he bent his head once more to her stomach.
And he was liking what he saw.
His hands circled her legs. His mouth opened, sliding over her in a way that made Miki forget about pride and everything else. “You taste like sex and sea,” he said harshly.
The hot friction of his tongue made her shudder and she raked her nails across his shoulders, caught in another wave of blinding pleasure.
Dimly she felt him holding her up. Slowly the world came back into focus and she sank against the wall, boneless and sated. Her throat was dry, her heart pounding.
“Help,” she said weakly.
“Anytime you want,” Max rasped. His fingers speared through her wet curls and he licked her gently. “Like right now.”
From a distance Miki heard a rattling noise, followed by Max’s gruff curse.
When she opened her eyes, he drew away slowly, his eyes hard. “We’re going to finish this later, honey. Whatever the hell it is,” he added roughly.
“How about finishing it now?”
“Can’t.”
She made a low sound of protest as his hand moved away from her. He draped her blouse around her shoulders and shoved two buttons closed. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Why?”
Reality was charging back, and Miki didn’t like the sound of it. She was naked, still shivering from toe-curling sex and now she was supposed to dress docilely, swallow her questions and vanish? No way. “Max, talk to me.”
“Later.” His face was shuttered. “That sound came from the pager I took from our pal with the knife.”
Miki looked down and saw the pager vibrating in Max’s hand. “So he’s getting a message? Well, what does it say? Let me see—”
“Don’t bother. It’s in code,” he said grimly.
Max studied the LED intently, turning the device over on his palm. She had to wonder what was so important about holding the pager.
He slid his hand along the row of buttons. “Hell,” he whispered.
“What is it?” Miki stopped in the middle of zipping her jeans.
He didn’t answer.
“Max, what’s wrong?” She had the odd feeling that he had forgotten about her.
When the vibration started again, he pressed a button on the side of the unit and read the small, backlit screen.
“What do they want?” Miki’s throat tightened. Things were happening too fast, and it was getting harder and harder to stay calm.
“I have to go.” Turning off the pager, Max slid it into his pocket. “Whatever happens, don’t go outside. You’ll be fine here, but I can’t guarantee your safety anywhere else. Remember that.”
Miki knew he was right, even if she didn’t like the fact. “I understand.”
Max pulled a revolver out of a pocket on his vest. “Can you use one of these?”
“I’ve done some plinking.” She hesitated and then took the gun. The metal grip was cold in her fingers. By habit she flipped open the chamber and checked to be sure there were no bullets loaded and none in the barrel.
“Always good to check, but it’s empty now.” Max held out a box of .45 bullets. “Keep these with you. Truman will be up above on watch. Everything’s going to be fine.”
Like hell it would, Miki thought. What had he seen on that pager?
Hiding her anxiety, she turned away, buttoning her jeans. “What if Dutch gets worse? How can I reach you?”
When she turned around, she was talking to dead air. Max was gone.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“FIVE TEN. Probably 190 pounds. Brown eyes and a small tattoo of a red scorpion surrounded by three diamonds in the middle of his left wrist.” Max paced the lower deck of the gunboat, talking quietly into his encrypted satellite phone. “See what you can get on this creep, Izzy.”
“I’m on it. Tell me about that pager you found.”
“Some kind of new model, nothing I’ve ever seen before. It’s got a big self-contained power source, but I can’t tell what kind without opening the unit. The message was brief. Tango-12-Bravo-97. After that a string of numbers.”
“Read them to me,” Izzy said.
Max recited the number string, which he had already committed to memory. “The same text scrolled through twice.”
“They’ll be expecting an answer. When they don’t get one…” A chair squeaked. “Let me work on it. I’ll check our database on that tattoo while I’m at it, but I’m not too hopeful. What’s his current status?”
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