Gone to Dust

by Liliana Hart

  “What are you thinking?” she asked as she dried the last of the dishes and put them away. “You don’t usually look so relaxed.”

  “I was thinking it’d be a hell of a time to go fishing.”

  “You’re kidding. You’d fish in this?” she asked in surprise. “That’s insane.”

  “When you go deep-sea fishing, you play the hand God deals as far as the weather goes. It’s a hell of a good time.”

  Miller grabbed a bottle of water, but she didn’t take the seat next to him. She was restless. Her mind wouldn’t shut down. All the variables of what could happen. The worry for Justin. The thought of discovering her parents’ plane and wondering if she’d come across their bodies.

  She lifted her face to the salty breeze and let her senses take over—the smell of the sea and the crash of waves against the rocks—the rain thunderous as it slapped against the water, and Nat Cole singing about being too young to be in love.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked, repeating the earlier question.

  His voice was close, but she didn’t turn around. And then he moved in so their bodies didn’t quite touch, and he twined his hands with hers. There was nothing sexual about the connection, but she felt as if she’d never been more intimate with another human being. There was something inherently magical about the moment, and if she could have, she’d have picked this frame of time to last forever.

  “I’m thinking this is one of those moments that will still be with me when I’m ninety and my bones are brittle and my eyes cloudy with age.”

  “It’s a good moment,” he said, and leaned down to place a soft kiss on the back of her neck.

  A shudder went through her at the touch, and he turned her slowly so she was loosely held in his arms. And then he began to move her to the music—Ella this time—her voice heartbreaking as she sang of stardust melodies.

  She was floating. It was the only way to describe what it felt like to be in his arms. She’d liked to think herself cynical and worldly and aware when it came to matters of the heart, but being slow danced in Elias Cole’s arms was one of the best feelings she’d ever had.

  She didn’t know how long they danced. The songs changed over time and again, and there were moments she didn’t hear the music at all—only his slow, steady heartbeat as she rested her head against his chest.

  It was the most natural thing in the world when his lips found hers. Her sigh mixed with his and her heart thudded in her chest, her body pressing into him as if to say finally.

  It was different than the last time. It wasn’t a lust-hazed, frantic kiss. There was tenderness, a care that hadn’t been there before, and when his tongue stroked hers she felt the pull of desire low in her belly.

  Her hands stroked and caressed, while he made love to her mouth, dancing her slowly toward the chairs he’d moved together. She felt small next to him, his body hard where hers was soft, and the heat of him enveloped her. Her hands roamed across his back and up his broad shoulders, to the muscled biceps that made her want to take a bite out of him. Their mouths parted briefly as he pulled her sweater over her head, but she barely noticed. Her fingers were busy tugging at the hem of his shirt, lifting it so she could feel the taut muscles of his stomach.

  She wanted to commit every sensation and feeling to memory. The gentle sway of the boat and the dampness of the rain across her skin. The way his hand felt against her back as he unclasped her bra and left her bared before him, and his soft swear as he helped her take his shirt off. The way her hands fumbled with the button of his pants before she pushed them and his briefs down, and the weight of his body as he followed her onto the makeshift bed.

  Hands moved with more urgency, his mouth devoured her lips, her neck, and his lips finally found her nipple, his tongue swirling around the taut bud. She felt every suckle in the pulsing of her clitoris. Her skirt was rucked around her thighs, and she wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him closer. But he kept kissing his way down, across her stomach and to the elastic waistband of her skirt. He tugged it gently and she lifted her hips, and he pulled it and the black panties she wore from her legs and let them drop to the floor.

  “Please don’t make me wait any longer,” she begged.

  He came down on top of her, his breathing ragged as her arms came around him in a lover’s embrace.

  “No, I won’t,” he said. “We’ve waited long enough.”

  His hands locked with hers, and she reveled in the heat and weight of his body, the hardness of his muscles combined with the coarse hair on his chest that brought new sensations across her breasts. She opened for him, her legs twining around his waist.

  “Miller,” he said, his eyes steady on her. And then he slid into her, and she saw brilliant light as her eyelids fluttered closed. “No, look at me.”

  It was too much. But she did as he asked. Her body moved fluidly with his, a different kind of dance this time, but beautiful in motion.

  She felt the pressure build inside her, her hips rising and falling to meet his. Their skin was damp with rain and passion, and her hands slid up his back, gripping his shoulders and trying to find an anchor in the storm raging around her. Cries escaped her lips, and she heard him chant her name over and over again.

  The orgasm rolled through her, building and building in intensity, and she cried out his name as he finally let go and emptied himself into her.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Elias lay in bed, staring into the darkness, long before the sun rose. Miller was curled into his side, her hand fisted on his chest and her breathing deep and even. And as he held her, he realized he was in a whole lot of trouble. Because he loved her. And love and revenge had no future together.

  He’d known it before he’d touched her. But he hadn’t cared. His carnal nature had far outweighed his common sense. And now that he knew how well they fit together, what true intimacy really was, he knew he could never settle for anything less. Anyone other than Miller.

  He slipped out of bed, smiling when Miller didn’t even shift. They’d only gotten to sleep a couple of hours before. Never had he spent so long making love to a woman. And that’s exactly what they’d been doing. It hadn’t been just sex. They’d talked, and touched, and tasted, and he knew every inch of her body and the places that gave her the most pleasure. And she knew his.

  He showered and dressed quickly, donning linen shorts and a blue island shirt, and then he went above to make sure the coffee had started. He didn’t actually drink it himself, but he wanted to make sure it was at hand. Especially since he wanted to tell her that he thought she should stay on the yacht while he looked for her brother. He couldn’t care less about the treasure. But Miller’s safety was of utmost importance.

  Had he ever put anyone else above himself? His brothers, of course, but war was different. On a personal level, his life had always been about him. What could advance his career. What brought him the most pleasure. But somewhere along the way in his relationship with Miller, he wanted to bring her the most pleasure, whether it was something as simple as making coffee or something as intimate as watching the way her eyes darkened when he slid deep inside of her.

  The storm had stopped about the time they’d finally drifted off to sleep, and the darkness was still in their secluded corner. Even the water seemed at peace for the time being. He woke up Elaine, hoping she wasn’t holding a grudge from the night before, and he set the coordinates and started up the engine.

  He’d always liked the quiet time of night. It had been his favorite time as a SEAL. The mission rattling around in his head, the adrenaline pumping, but disciplining his body to stay completely still and alert. To wait and watch. Combined with being on the water, he was pretty much in heaven at the moment.

  He steered the boat out of the cove and toward the Triangle Islands. They needed to move swiftly. His gut was telling him Cordova was right behind them. And another part of his gut was telling him Eve was going to play games with him.

  The sky f
aded from black to gray, the promise of the sun a hint at ocean’s end. He felt her behind him, and when he turned to look at her his heart stopped in his chest. She wore one of his T-shirts, and it hung to midthigh. Her face was free of makeup, her skin flawless and flushed from sleep, and her lips were swollen from the night before.

  “Coffee,” she rasped. “I beg of you.”

  The moment was broken and his heart started beating again. “Right behind you,” he said.

  She grunted something unintelligible, poured herself a cup, grunted something again, and then turned around and went down below again. He chuckled and thought he could get used to this. And then he quickly put the thought out of his mind.

  He made sure they were on course, checked their surroundings, and then he followed after her.

  The bathroom was efficient and a good size. The floor was large neutral tiles and it was seamless to walk straight into the shower. There were no doors on the shower, and a large rain head spout hung from the ceiling. There were multiple showerheads on each end of the shower and they all sprayed toward the middle. A simple drain in the floor kept the rest of the bathroom floor from getting wet.

  Steam billowed, filling the room, and he grinned again as he watched her for a minute. Her head rested against the wall and her eyes were closed, the coffee cup in her hand, and hot water poured over her. And still his body responded. Even after the night they’d spent.

  He checked his watch, and then stripped off his clothes in silence. She didn’t hear him approach, and he took the coffee cup from her hand before she dropped it and set it on the ledge. She barely noticed. He adjusted the spray and moved in close behind her, his erection pressing against her full bottom, and she widened her stance for him as he probed for entry.

  “I thought I’d help you wake up,” he whispered against her neck, nipping with his teeth.

  “I don’t think it’s working,” she said, and then she gasped as he pushed fully inside of her.

  She was tight, swollen, from the night before, but she was ready for him. Her hands pressed flat against the cool tile and her breath hitched with every stroke. His hands grasped her hips and then slid up and around to cup her full breasts.

  “How about now?” he asked, his thumb and forefinger tweaking her nipples. He felt her tighten around him and he groaned because it felt so good.

  He pushed high inside of her, lifting her to her toes, and a cry escaped her lips. He bit down on her shoulder and he could feel the change in her—the liquid heat that surrounded him, the change in texture as her vaginal walls swelled around him. But still she was stubborn, and held back.

  “Not yet,” she said. “You’ll have to try harder.”

  “If I try any harder you won’t be able to walk for a week,” he said.

  “It’s good to have goals,” she panted, making him laugh.

  He moved a couple of steps back, pulling her with him, and then he placed his hand between her shoulder blades, pushing her down. He took her hands and wrapped them around the handrail so she was stretched out fully in front of him. He kissed his way up her spine, burying himself deeper inside of her the farther up he got. And when his lips were next to her ear he whispered, “Hold on.”

  Her cry of pleasure echoed in the small room as he grabbed her hips and pistoned in and out of her. She came around him with a violence that almost brought him to his knees. And he couldn’t hold off any longer. He emptied himself into her with a roar and then they both crumpled to the shower floor.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The Pacific wasn’t meant for swimming, but the sun was out and brutal, so they’d each changed into their swimsuits. Talk about mistakes, Miller walking around in a bikini made it hard to keep his mind on the task at hand.

  They’d gotten a late start that morning after their shower, and it was early afternoon when they finally reached the Triangle Islands. There was a reason Aguas Mortales wasn’t a tourist attraction. Getting to it wasn’t convenient, and getting on the island was even less convenient. The tour boats wouldn’t risk the chance of having their hulls ripped to shreds by the rocks, or letting a group of people off to roam aimlessly on an island with an active volcano and uncharted territory.

  “I keep waiting for the afternoon rain,” Miller said. “It’s hot today.”

  She was wearing the red triangle bikini and had one of the silky floral sarongs they’d found at the market tied at her waist.

  “The rain will be here soon,” he said. “You can smell it.”

  It had taken almost two hours to circle the three islands so he could determine the best point of entry. There really wasn’t one. He finally decided their best bet was to anchor out a little ways and use the Zodiac attached beneath the yacht to make their way toward shore.

  The Triangle Islands were a group of three, and a narrow canal ran between each of them, flowing toward the middle where the three islands met. He could’ve anchored on the middle island, where the shore was a little deeper and the rocks weren’t as prevalent, but it would’ve added an extra day to their hike, and they were already running short.

  He was surprised they hadn’t been tracked down already. Elaine had been compiling the alerts that other boats were being boarded and searched at will. And extra security measures had been set up at all the resorts, so passports were checked again and each new visitor went through a checkpoint, with an extra umbrella drink in hand for the inconvenience.

  He’d calculated it would take several hours to walk to the Corazón Roto, and from there they’d have to try and retrace Justin’s steps. Finding and extracting Justin and somehow taking Cordova out of the game so Miller was safe in her own home was the mission. He still wasn’t a hundred percent sure that they’d be successful at either of them. The thought of Miller having to go into hiding if they didn’t succeed didn’t sit well with him.

  Elias couldn’t have cared less about treasure, but he’d also promised Miller he’d help her find the wreckage of her parents’ plane. It could be an impossible task. But he wouldn’t quit until his promise had been fulfilled. She deserved some peace in her life. However he could bring it to her.

  “They must be slacking,” he said, looking through his binoculars.

  “What’s that?” she asked, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.

  “Cordova’s men,” he said. “Cartel business must be down. I’ve had Elaine compiling numbers to see what our potential fallout is and the probability that we can fight our way out of this if we have to.”

  “I’d imagine that probability is pretty small since there are likely more than two of them.”

  Elias snorted out an offended breath and looked at her incredulously. “Lady, I’ve taken out a twenty-man team by myself, and they never even knew I was there.”

  “Okay, okay,” she said, hands raised. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bruise your ego.”

  “You’ve bruised a lot of things on me, darling, but my ego hasn’t been one of them.”

  She rolled her eyes and he looked back through the binoculars with a smile on his face.

  “It’s taken them longer than I thought to track us down to search us. That’s a sign in our favor.”

  “They’ve found us?” she asked, a flash of fear in her eyes.

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” he said. “A cutter is heading straight for us.”

  “Am I supposed to know what that is?” she asked, exasperated.

  “It’s a boat. A fast one. Typically used by the Coast Guard or law enforcement. And cartels apparently.”

  “You think they’ll recognize me?”

  “Not if you keep that bikini on,” he told her. “The force is with you, young Jedi.”

  “I’m so proud of you for the reference,” she said. “But I can’t believe you’d suggest I’d use my body to get out of this.”

  “I’m not a fan of it myself. I’ve become rather attached to it. But do you have any better ideas?”

  “Other than
shooting them all and dumping them overboard?”

  “Funny,” he said. “I’m glad you can keep your sense of humor.” He watched as she slicked on some gloss that made her lips look poutier, and then she plumped up her breasts in the tiny bikini. “Let’s not go too overboard,” he told her. “I’d really rather not have to shoot anyone and dump them in the ocean. It’s more of a pain in the ass than you’d think.”

  “Everything involves red tape nowadays,” she said dryly.

  He hooted out a laugh. He’d missed her sarcasm and dry humor like crazy.

  “Elaine,” he said. “Suppress all classified systems on board. Lock down weapons closet, and power down until only my voice command reactivates the systems.”

  Complying … Stay safe and kick ass.

  Miller snorted out a laugh, and Elias grinned as Elaine did as he asked. “Hopefully, it won’t come to that.”

  “What do you think they want?” Miller asked.

  “I think it’s probably an introductory call,” he said. “They’re going to be curious about the people using this craft. Be polite.”

  “I’m always polite,” she said automatically.

  He arched a brow and she rolled her eyes. “I can be polite when I need to be,” she corrected.

  “That’s more like it,” he said. “It’s probably best to just stay silent. This isn’t a culture where men want women to speak unless they’re spoken to directly. And he’s probably not going to be able to form coherent sentences anyway.”

  Elias had experience with the kind of men on the cutter. They were dressed as a kind of law enforcement official, but they were bought men—mercenaries—owned by the Black Widow. They’d expect a bribe, and Elias was prepared to give them one. He’d already prepared an envelope of cash, expecting this visit the day before.

  “Ahoy, Debido del Diablo,” one of the men called out—the one who appeared to be in charge. The others held machine guns at ease with one hand and the strap of the cutter for balance with the other.