Sleepwalker

by Karen Robards

  “Yes.” She was warm now, and comfortable, wrapped in the thin sheet with his arms around her. The solid strength of his chest supported her back. His shoulder made the perfect pillow for her head. The sand beneath her was smooth and firm, and still retained just enough of the day’s heat to be pleasant. With the caressing breeze and the murmuring tide and a whole planetarium’s worth of stars overhead, Mick thought that she couldn’t have imagined a more perfect place if she had daydreamed about it for a hundred years.

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” he said.

  “What, it wasn’t because you didn’t want me to die?”

  “Well, there was that. But that wasn’t entirely the reason, no.”

  “So why, then?”

  His eyes slid over her face. Mick felt their touch like a caress.

  “I think the real, true, underlying reason I brought you with me was because I’m crazy about you.”

  Their eyes met. As his words sank in, as she read what was there for her in his eyes, in his face, her heart started to pound and butterflies took flight in her stomach and her toes curled into the warm sand.

  “Really?” What she didn’t want to do was sound as breathless as she suddenly felt, so her tone was maybe a little gruff.

  “Yeah. Really.”

  Mick could hear her pulse pounding in her ears. The last thing on earth she had ever meant to do was get emotionally involved with him.

  Too late.

  “That’s nice,” she said, turning in his arms, adjusting the sheet so that it would keep her minimally decent while she curled an arm around his neck.

  He looked down at her. “Nice?”

  There was a doubtful note to his voice that told her he wasn’t quite sure how to take that.

  She was already fitting her mouth to his.

  “Nice,” she repeated obligingly a breath away from his lips. “Because, see, I’m crazy about you, too.”

  Then she kissed him, soft and leisurely, a long, deep kiss that lasted until his endurance snapped, until his arms tightened around her and his mouth went hot and hard and he twisted with her in his arms so that she was lying on her back with the sheet beneath her and only beneath her. And there it was again, rising up in her, the fire, the heat, the absolutely stupid hunger for him that there was just no doing anything about.

  “Jason,” she whispered when his mouth left hers to trail hot, wet kisses down the side of her neck. When his mouth found her breasts, closed on each nipple in turn, she gasped. When his fingers slid between her legs, she cried out. When his mouth took the place of his fingers, branding her, possessing her, she was lost in the wonder of it, in the intensity of it, in the sheer exquisite pleasure of it.

  When his mouth left her, when he rose up over her again, when she had just that split second to catch her breath and grab at her sanity and think as well as feel, she opened her eyes to find him looming over her. His face was hidden in shadow. But she could see the hot, dark gleam of his eyes, the heavily muscled shoulders, the strong arms. She burned for him. Her body quaked and throbbed for him. She was so turned on she was dizzy with it. She was consumed with images of all the ways they had fucked before and she wanted more of that, more of the absolute abandon she had felt, more of the eroticism, more of the dark, sweet, unparalleled heat.

  But the thing was, she recognized with something that felt like bedazzlement liberally mixed with fear, she didn’t want to fuck anymore.

  “Make love to me,” she begged in a shaken whisper, knowing even as she did it that she was selling her soul to the devil, abandoning the principles of a lifetime, turning her back on everything she had previously held dear.

  And the absolute worst, or best, thing about it was, she didn’t care.

  “I want you more than I have ever wanted any woman in my life.” His voice was hoarse and deep, his mouth unsmiling as he bent to her. Even as she lifted her mouth for his kiss, even as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her, she had that one moment of clarity in which she saw the soot-black sky with its panoply of twinkling stars curving above his head, heard the murmur of the surf and felt the breath of the sea breeze on her skin, smelled the salt and the water and the faint muskiness that was pure man, and realized that she was lying naked on a beach with the lover of her dreams. And realized, too, that this night with Jason was the closest she had ever gotten to paradise in her life.

  Then he came inside her, huge and hard and urgent, and the resulting undulating waves of passion that claimed her erased every vestige of coherent thought from her mind.

  They made love for what was left of the night. Until, wrapped in her sheet, they fell asleep on the sand.

  When Mick woke up, she was in Jason’s bed. Curled on her side, with a comforter pulled up to her chin, alone. The curtains were drawn, but she could tell it was full daylight by the sunshine that poured in through the open bedroom doorway. Jason, she discovered with a quick glance around, was not in the room.

  But there was definitely someone standing in the doorway. Mick blinked to be sure, but the backlit silhouette, which was all she could see of whoever it was, bore no resemblance to Jason’s tall form. For a moment Mick lay still, battling an instinctive surge of anxiety, thinking the situation through. Then she clamped an arm over the comforter to hold it in place and sat bolt upright in bed.

  Chapter

  26

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I dropped off some groceries. Jason’s hopeless at shopping.”

  Tina’s cheerful voice banished the tension that had had Mick sitting ramrod straight, looking warily at the figure in the doorway. A glance at the bedside clock told her that it was almost noon.

  “That’s all right. I was awake, just lying here. Um, have you seen him?”

  “No, but that’s not surprising. He’s probably at work.”

  “Work?” It was all Mick could do to keep the surprise out of her voice.

  Tina nodded. “Tradewinds. The shipping company. He runs it, you know.”

  No, actually, Mick hadn’t known. She’d thought her thief was just that, period. But she definitely wanted to know more.

  “Usually he gets back around five. But with you here, I’d say there was a good chance he’ll be home earlier.” The amusement in Tina’s voice told Mick that the other woman had no doubt about the state of Mick’s relationship with Jason. Well, she was naked in his bed. How much could anyone misinterpret that?

  “Wait,” Mick said. Tina was already turning away from the door. “Are you busy? Maybe we could have a cup of coffee.”

  “Sure. You get dressed, and I’ll make it.”

  Tina vanished. As Mick swung her legs over the side of the bed and faced a momentarily daunting dilemma—all her belongings were in the second bedroom, clear on the other side of the house—she heard Tina moving around in the kitchen. Luckily, the towel Mick had been wearing earlier was on the floor. Picking it up, wrapping it around herself, she went into the bathroom, which, like the rest of the place, was gorgeous. Some minutes later, with her face washed, her teeth brushed (courtesy of a new toothbrush in the medicine cabinet), and her hair brushed as well, wearing a white toweling bathrobe she had found hanging on a hook inside the door that she presumed was Jason’s and was way too big for her, she made her way to the kitchen.

  “Coffee?” was how Tina greeted her. The smell was already filling the air, and Mick nodded appreciatively before sliding onto a stool at the breakfast bar. Immediately she spotted Iggy, looking like a minidragon, with his spikes and warts and long, pointed tail. This morning he was hunkered down on the kitchen floor, placidly munching chunks of what looked like apple out of a red pottery bowl. He paid not the least attention to her, and since Tina seemed perfectly fine with an iguana at her feet, Mick decided that the only thing to do was pretend he was a cat and quit worrying about him. She transferred her gaze to Tina, who was wearing pink Bermuda shorts and a floaty, multicolored top that had iridescent threads and made Mick th
ink of butterfly wings. Her blond hair was twisted up, and her earrings were sparkly glass chandeliers that caught the light like prisms. And light there was, in abundance. The glass wall made the living area as bright as the day outside; sunlight sparkled everywhere. The lawn, the beach, the bay—the view could have graced a postcard. As Tina poured coffee and set it in front of her, Mick saw that the other woman had been busy making, if she had to judge from the ingredients on the countertop, chicken salad.

  “I went ahead and made lunch, too,” Tina added. “Chicken salad. I hope you like it?” Mick answered affirmatively, and Tina turned back to what she was doing. “It beats Jason’s favorite, which is bologna. Probably because all you have to do is slap packaged meat between bread and eat.”

  Both of them laughed. Mick took an appreciative sip of coffee. It was really good, and she felt really good. Rested, restored and … happy. When she contemplated the undoubted reason why she was feeling so good, warmth radiated inside her like her own little personal sun. All she had to do was glance out the window at that beach, and she started glowing all over again.

  “So Jason runs a shipping company?” Mick asked as she took another sip of coffee and Tina set a plate that included a sandwich and some kind of fruit salad in front of her. She was dying to know more, but she wanted to be delicate about it. The last thing she wanted was for Tina to think she was trying to pump her for information, even if she was.

  Tina nodded, settling back against the counter with a cup of coffee in her hands. Her own meal, a sandwich and fruit salad like Mick’s, sat on the counter beside her.

  “Tradewinds. We’re all partners in it. Local producers contract with us to ship their products worldwide. Jason runs it because he likes having something to do. He’s got a couple of other businesses, too. Jelly, on the other hand, is perfectly content to play golf between jobs, and I like to cook. Actually, I’ve started a catering company: Bon Manje. It means ‘good food.’”

  “I’m sure you’ll do great with it.” Mick meant that sincerely. She had just taken a bite out of the chicken salad. “This is delicious.”

  Looking almost shy, Tina smiled. “Thanks. It’s something I always wanted to do. Who would have thought, way back when I was working for Uncle Sam, that I’d ever get the chance?”

  Mick’s antenna went up: this was information she could use. Sampling some of the fruit salad—bits of apple and citrus in some sort of sweet dressing, fantastic—she tried not to appear overly interested.

  “You worked for the U.S. government?”

  Biting into her own sandwich, Tina nodded. “I was a tech analyst. With the FBI. For eight years. Then I got fired.” Shrugging philosophically, she took another bite out of her sandwich. “Bad at the time, but it worked out for the best.”

  “What happened?” Mick concentrated on her meal in an effort not to appear as fascinated as she felt.

  “An operation went wrong, and I was one of the people who got the blame.” She made a face. “I don’t regret it, though. If everything had happened like it was supposed to, Jelly probably would have died. He and I weren’t involved at the time, you understand. Just goes to show, the Lord really does work in mysterious ways.”

  Mick tried not to choke as a piece of apple went down the wrong way. “Did Jelly work for the FBI, too?” And what about Jason? was what she wanted to ask, but she was still feeling her way.

  Tina laughed. “I guess. In a manner of speaking. He was Jason’s CI—confidential informant. Jason busted him running guns, then cut him a deal where he could stay out of jail if he worked for him. I only set eyes on Jelly once before the crap hit the fan. I thought he was a low-life scum.” Tina’s fond smile underlined the obvious fact that she had since changed her mind. Mick mentally brushed that aside: at the moment, the focus of her interest was not Tina’s and Jelly’s love life.

  “Jason busted him?” Trying to keep her tone casual, she munched chicken. Extrapolating, blending in everything she had learned about him, from her suspicions about his law enforcement roots to evidence of fairly extensive, if sloppy, martial arts training, Mick hazarded a guess: “When he was an FBI agent?”

  Tina nodded. Then she frowned, looking suddenly wary. “You’re trying to find out about our backgrounds, aren’t you? I keep forgetting you’re a cop. Jelly said I shouldn’t trust you.”

  Meeting Tina’s eyes, Mick felt a little guilty. Probably some people would have considered what she had just been doing taking advantage of the other woman’s friendliness. That was because, actually, it was. Sighing, she put her sandwich down. “The truth is, I’m interested in Jason’s background. But not because I’m a cop. Because … because …” To her own disgust she found she couldn’t put the reason into words. It was too new, too amazing. But the result left her stammering like a sixteen-year-old girl in the throes of her first crush.

  “You have a real thing for him, don’t you?” The frown left Tina’s face. “I knew it the first time I saw you looking at him. Like you wanted to jump his bones right there in the dining room.”

  “I did not,” Mick protested, indignant.

  Tina’s eyes twinkled. “Oh, yes, you did. Don’t worry about it, though. He was looking right back at you the exact same way.”

  “I’m trying to figure him out,” Mick confessed, giving up on subterfuge. “I would never do anything to hurt him, or you, or Jelly, you know. Or repeat anything you told me to anyone. I just … I need to understand how he came to be a—”

  She broke off, perceiving almost too late that it might have been a little offensive to refer to Jason as a thief in the presence of his accomplice, also a thief.

  “Robber?” Tina finished, eyeing her.

  Mick nodded.

  “He’s a good guy,” Tina said. “One of the best ever. That’s the thing you got to understand.”

  “I know that. I could tell that from the first.”

  “When you were judo-ing the heck out of him?” Tina giggled. “Oh, yeah, Jelly told me all about that.”

  Mick smiled a little sheepishly. “Maybe not quite as soon as that.”

  Tina gave her a straight look. “All right. I’m going to tell you about us. But if you ever let him know I did, or tell anybody else …”

  Tina would have looked comical as she drew her hand theatrically across her own throat except for the fact that Mick wasn’t entirely sure she was kidding.

  “I won’t,” Mick promised. “I swear.”

  “Okay, then. Let’s see.” Tina wrinkled her nose, remembering. “When I got fired, Jason did, too. He was an FBI Special Agent, a newby, I think he came right out of college or something. He’d only been with the Agency for a few years. I didn’t just do computer analysis for him. I worked for a group of them, the junior ones. We were with the Chicago office. Chicago’s where we both are from. Jelly, too. Jason was gung-ho to make his mark, and he was investigating this gun trafficking operation, where this gang was smuggling guns out of the country by way of Chicago and then on up through Canada. I was helping him track the operation online. Jason busted Jelly, and Jelly was giving him information on when the big shipments were coming through, but Jelly was starting to sweat it because he thought maybe some of the guys were getting onto him, you know? And he was right, although nobody knew it at the time. Jason had this other informant on the inside, a guy he knew from high school, one of those neighborhood-buddy-gone-wrong types. Greg Zenner was his name. So the word comes down to Jelly about this huge gun shipment coming through, Jelly passes it on to Jason, Jason sets up this major sting, multiple agencies involved, enough firepower to take out half the city, really big. He gets his guy inside, Zenner, to wear a wire so there’s evidence on the ringleaders. It’s all set up, the guns are about to be delivered, everything’s go, Jason and all these men are in place armed to the teeth, and then it’s all just called off. Last minute. Abort operation. I hear through the grapevine that it’s because the ATF is also tracking this shipment to see where it ends up, and we’re ste
pping on their toes or something. But apparently word leaked back to the ringleaders that there was a mole inside, and they were going to shoot Zenner right there, and Jason could hear it all going down over the wire. So he and some men went in there to get Zenner out despite being told to stand down, and it just all went south from there. A shoot-out, the ATF’s plan spoiled, total fiasco. It didn’t even save Zenner, really. He got shot in the back on the way out and ended up being paralyzed. So Jason got fired for disobeying an order, I got fired for being too close to Jason, Jelly got a contract on his head for being Jason’s stoolie, and Zenner got paralyzed. After the dust settled, Jelly was broke and needed to get out of town. Jason was broke and feeling responsible for the whole mess, including what had happened to Zenner. Zenner was broke and paralyzed. I was just broke. And depressed. And out of a job. Jelly’s the one who came up with the idea of turning robber. He knew where the gun smugglers kept their cash, and he told Jason about it, because there needed to be two of them to pull the job off. I ended up coming along to be the driver. I was scared out of my mind the whole time, but they got it done just easy as that. A million dollars, I still remember.” Tina clasped her hands under her chin and gave Mick a misty smile. “I get sentimental—it was our first job.” She took a breath and shook her head. “So Jason gave half of it to Zenner, to help take care of him, and then the three of us got out of town and kind of lay low for a while. But Zenner went through that money fast—a paralyzed guy without good insurance can burn through half a mil like nobody’s business—and to tell you the truth, so did we. Jason still had connections—so did Jelly, of a different sort—and between the two of them they knew about the drug runners and the crime syndicates and what was going down and where the cash was. Once you know what you’re looking for, the fake company names they’re using, that sort of thing, it’s easy to track what’s happening where on the web. So we all kind of located a likely target, and we pulled another job—some of it went to Zenner, the rest we split—and then Jason had the great idea that maybe we should do this for a living. I mean, those criminals had a lot of cash, it was all dirty, from crimes, you know, just laying around, and the best way to throw a monkey wrench in their operations was to take their profits. So that’s what we decided to do. Jason took care of Zenner and his family until he passed away a few years ago, and we all took care of our families—Jason supported his mom until she died last year, and he has a sister in California he makes sure is all right—and we took care of us. I mean, nobody else is going to, and stealing from crooks isn’t really stealing at all, is it? It’s just one more facet of the war on crime. At least, that’s what Jason says.”