“And do what?”
He slanted his mouth over hers and made it clear that his intentions had nothing to do with horticulture.
She was panting by the time he let her go. “You’re distracting.”
“I try.”
She grabbed her bag and got out of the car, her movements flustered because all the blood in her body seemed to have rushed low in her belly. She throbbed with needing him.
By the time she stepped into the lobby, she’d learned something new about herself. It wasn’t easy to walk when she was that turned on. The tiny vibrations of her thighs rubbing together were like fuel on a fire. She had to stand just inside the doorway and wait for her hormones to calm down.
Wow. She had never been that turned on by anyone before Koenraad. For all she knew, this was something that happened to most women. She’d have to ask Tara. Who would act horrified but would be secretly thrilled to talk about it. Or better yet, ask Nya. Nya would definitely know.
A quick glance confirmed that Thomas wasn’t in the lobby, and she heaved a sigh of relief. The clerk on duty was the bald man with the dyed mustache who’d given her several messages when she was staying in the hotel. He was busy typing.
“Might I use your phone?” she asked when he glanced her way.
“Still Monroe?” he asked.
She smiled.
“You know, there was a gentleman looking for you earlier today.”
Monroe grimaced. “He’s not my friend.”
The clerk didn’t seem the least bit surprised to hear that. Thomas must have done something to make a spectacle of himself.
The clerk set the phone on the counter, and she dialed Tara’s room. While it rang, she stared out in the direction of the pool. Only two people out there that she could see. Before, it was usually packed unless it was closed. She bet it had something to do with the drowning.
Tara didn’t answer. Neither did Nya or Linda. Reluctantly, Monroe pushed the phone back toward the clerk. “Did you see my friends? One is a short girl with blonde hair, and her husband is—”
The clerk looked embarrassed. “Oh, yes. I should have realized… it’s been a busy day. Your friends went out about twenty minutes ago.” He scratched his chin. “Dressed for dinner, not the beach.”
Damn. But twenty minutes wasn’t so long. They could still be waiting for a table, depending where they’d gone. “Any idea which restaurant?”
The man shook his head, and Monroe was about to leave when a question popped into her mind. “Have there ever been three drownings in a day before?”
“Let’s just say that tomorrow, all the local beaches will be closed and it will be advised to stay out of the sea.”
“Why?”
The man glanced quickly left and right, and as there was no one else in the vicinity, he said, “You didn’t hear this from me, but there have been a lot of accidents, and on some of the other islands as well. It’s like the ocean has gone crazy.”
Monroe wrapped her arms around herself. “Do you know why?”
He shook his head. “There are theories, of course, but it’s anybody’s guess. Between us, the government needs to take stronger measures, but this is high season. The busiest time of the year. They don’t want to risk the bad publicity.”
Monroe nodded, thanked him, and went outside.
It was too soon for Koenraad to be back. Might as well check out Club Carrib, she thought. It was only a couple of blocks away.
The restaurant had seemed nearly comatose when she was there before, but the dining room was quite busy now.
Unfortunately, her friends weren’t anywhere in sight. She walked across the patio, making sure, but it wasn’t like a group their size would be easily overlooked. And her friends tended to be loud. Doubly so after a few drinks.
There was another restaurant just next door, a Tex-Mex place. Nothing. One more restaurant at the end of the block. Looked fancy. She went in, and since there was no one at the hostess’s station, she ducked into the dining room.
Nope. They’d been eating near the hotel for several days and had probably gotten bored with all these places. After all, they’d arrived a day earlier than Monroe, and they hadn’t had a sexy local to take them to the good restaurants.
As she was finishing her tour of the dining room, she noticed a gorgeous woman with an unfair amount of dark, wavy hair scowling in front of the hostess’s station. Her arms were folded across her chest—and it was a definite chest, the kind men dreamed about. A tight black catsuit stretched over her otherwise slender curves. The V-neck was perilously deep. Monroe hoped the woman was wearing a bikini or something underneath, but she didn’t notice any telltale lines. Black stiletto sandals complemented toned calves that Monroe would have killed for. Actually, the woman’s entire body was perfect.
Large sunglasses covered the woman’s eyes, and while Monroe couldn’t be sure, she got the impression that the woman was glaring at her. But of course that made no sense.
Monroe’s steps faltered as she drew closer. The entry wasn’t quite large enough for two people.
“Excuse me,” she said, feeling intimidated. “Can I just squeeze by you?”
The woman’s chin came up, her nose wrinkled like she’d smelled something putrid, and Monroe thought she might not move. But then she took a graceful step backward.
Dancer, Monroe thought. Maybe a pop star. Rich and famous and entitled.
After she walked out, she threw a glance over her shoulder and saw that the woman had turned around to watch. The disgust on her face had morphed into something far darker.
When Monroe was out of the woman’s sight, she looked down at herself, half expecting to see that her dress had disappeared or something. But no, she looked normal. Maybe she had something on her face.
But she’d walked past a ton of people, and no one else had given her a second look.
She pushed it firmly out of her mind and headed back to the hotel, where Koenraad was surely waiting.
Chapter 10
Damn, she was stunning. Watching Monroe walk toward him, the setting sun making a spectacular backdrop behind her, was one of the most erotic things he’d ever seen.
He loved that dress. The rocking of her full hips made it flow around her curvy thighs. It was spectacular. Though Monroe would look great in anything. He’d seen her naked. He knew.
He’d been so busy staring that he forgot to get the door for her. He started to get out, but Monroe waved him off before swinging into the car.
“What happened?” he asked.
“I can’t find them,” she said. “The clerk said they went off to dinner, but they’re not eating in any of the closest restaurants. Everything go fine at the post office?”
“It was very stimulating,” he said. “So it’s just the two of us tonight. I propose that we either take out a boat—”
“Think I’ve had enough boats for today,” she said with a delicate and almost imperceptible little shiver. “The clerk said there’s something wrong with the ocean. Is it related to our trip to the lab this afternoon?”
There was no point in keeping it from her. “Possibly. The water is affecting shifters, dolphins most of all. It hasn’t seemed to bother humans, and I hope that’s not what’s going on.”
“Has anything like this happened before?”
“Not that I know of. I’m going to spend a lot of time dealing with this, but I’m off tonight.” He smiled. “Either I’ll cook for you, or we can go out again. Your choice.”
He felt her lovely brown eyes on him as he pulled into the light evening traffic. All the tourists who had taken Vespas for the day were heading back to the rental centers clustered near the hotels. The tourists were cutting it close, like always.
He smiled. Now there was something he could do with Monroe. It’d be fun to teach her to ride one. He already knew she’d say she didn’t want to do it, but then she would jump into it, just like she had with everything else he’d thrown at her so far.
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br /> He was starting to think there was an adventuress lurking inside her. And not very deeply hidden, either. He remembered the way she’d initiated sex with him the first time, and his cock began to stiffen.
She’d just slid a leg over his lap and sat on him. She hadn’t been wearing anything underneath her short dress, and when he’d felt her bare sex silkily sliding over his cock, he’d nearly lost his mind.
Perhaps she hadn’t intended to land on his cock, but a woman who would slide her bare pussy over a man’s stomach wasn’t a shrinking violet.
Yeah, they needed to take out the Vespas. That’s what they’d do tomorrow…
“Shit,” he muttered. He’d forgotten that he was stuck wasting at least half the day keeping up the charade with Victoria. Add in patrol duties and his time was accounted for.
Monroe stiffened beside him. “What happened?”
“I was thinking about what we could do tomorrow, and I remembered I’ve got something else to take care of.”
“It’s my vacation, not yours,” Monroe said.
“Maybe I can push it off until next week.” He’d thought he hated Victoria as much as it was possible to hate someone he wasn’t actively plotting to kill, but apparently there’d been room to grow. And it was weird, but he almost felt he could smell her, though quite faintly.
“Of course I want to spend all the time I can with you, but I don’t want to make trouble,” Monroe said.
“That’s the same thing I thought when I let you go at the airport,” Koenraad said. “I wanted to convince you, but I didn’t want to make trouble with your job.” He smiled. “Your boyfriend I was less concerned with.”
“My ex. And why?” She sounded genuinely perplexed.
“It was obvious that you were done with him. You said you were supposed to meet at dinner and discuss things, but there’s nothing he could have said. You didn’t love him.”
“I… never even thought of love as entering into it. Love, real love, takes years to develop.”
“Have you ever been in love?” He noted with pleasure that his question caused her heart to race.
“Never really had time for relationships,” she said. “I’m not the spontaneous type. It takes me time to make a decision.” She was being careful, and he didn’t fault her for that.
“You seem spontaneous to me.”
She seemed to seriously ponder that a moment, then she grinned. “It must be your daredevil persona rubbing off. So what’s the story with the propeller?”
He groaned lightheartedly, but inside he meant it. Spencer had set him up. Obviously, Spencer liked and approved of Monroe. Koenraad knew his friend was just trying to be helpful, trying to help him along. He hadn’t realized he’d become such a pity case.
Koenraad couldn’t imagine interfering in Spencer’s life in that way unless the situation were dire. He wouldn’t even have a chance. Spencer never dated anyone for long before he was on to the next one.
They’d had that in common.
In Spencer’s case, though, it was related to boredom and not to the logistical problems of being a shifter responsible for keeping Tureygua safe. Spencer was one of the smartest people Koenraad knew, and he was also sensitive. Spencer’s loneliness—and while Koenraad would never say it to his friend, the shifter was lonely as hell—came from a life dedicated to the pursuit of scientific perfection. Spencer had no problem finding bedmates, but that would get wearisome, and Koenraad only hoped that one day Spencer would meet a woman or a shifter who could hold his attention.
Maybe then Spencer would have something more interesting to do than meddle in Koenraad’s love life.
“I’m just making idle conversation,” Monroe said. “You don’t have to tell me.”
“It’s not as interesting a story as Spencer led you to believe.” He carefully cleared his throat. “I’ll tell you about it while we make dinner together.”
“If you like stick-to-your ribs pasta, I’ll make dinner.”
An hour later, Koenraad stared at the cream, butter and cheese they’d bought at the grocery store. Monroe finished chopping up shallots, and he watched her dump an entire stick of butter into a frying pan.
“I can’t imagine that you eat this often,” he said. Monroe’s glass of Sauvignon blanc wasn’t empty, but he refilled it.
“Heart attack on a platter,” Monroe said with a laugh. “I like rich food. The creamier, the better. You can probably tell that, though.”
Koenraad frowned. “In what way?”
Monroe held her arms out as she turned to face him. “C’mon. Obviously I could take better care of myself.”
“If you’re suggesting there’s something wrong with how you look, I disagree,” Koenraad said. “Vehemently.” He took her by the shoulders and tilted her face toward his. Staring her in the eyes, he said, “I dare you to tell me I’m wrong.”
Monroe shrugged and forcefully turned back to the counter, but not before Koenraad saw her spreading blush. “Fettuccini Alfredo with tomatoes is the only thing I can make without using a cookbook. Got the recipe from watching my great-grandmother.” Monroe slid a sly glance his way. “She would have liked you. She always appreciated a man with muscles. The older she got, the more openly she leered. I could never decide if it was creepy or awesome.”
He grinned. “So you knew her?”
“Oh yeah. She lived to be ninety-six, and she was sharp right up until the end. She was a bit of a wild child in her day, and she was always telling me to stop being so obedient. Which my mother loved, of course.”
“I bet. What’s your mother like?”
“She’s… nice.” She handed him a wooden spoon and pointed at the frying pan.
“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to read into that.”
“Stir.”
“I meant you calling your mother nice.”
“Nothing. I mean it. She’s a genuinely nice person. I don’t think she has a malicious bone in her body. We’re not particularly close, don’t have much in common. But she did her best to raise me and give me a good life. She took on a lot of debt to put me through college. She didn’t have to, but she did. Of course I promised I’d pay her back, and I’m doing that now, but it was still a show of faith and trust. It meant a lot.”
“Yeah. That’s a vote of confidence.”
“You want kids?”
He slowed the stirring, and the question hung in the air while he tried to think of one good reason not to tell her about Brady.
And if he didn’t tell her now, it was as good as lying.
“I don’t know if I want to have any,” she said quickly, probably thinking she’d committed a faux pas by asking about kids. “Sometimes I think it’d be nice, and other times I’m glad I don’t have anyone dependent on me.”
“Do your friends have kids?”
“Not yet. Seeing them with screaming babies might make up my mind.”
“Or show you what you’re missing.” He shook salt into the pot of heating water. “I never thought kids were in my future before I had Brady.” The words slipped out, so natural and casual.
“Who’s… I mean.” She shook her head and laughed, trying with everything she had to act casual even though he could hear her heart racing, could hear her dry swallow. “Your son, obviously.”
“I don’t talk about him. It’s a sore subject. Things got complicated, and I don’t mean custody battles, though we fought over that, too.”
“Do you have photos?”
He nodded slowly. “I don’t like to look at them. Brady is special. And he’s…” He could feel it, the familiar desire to hide this. He didn’t want her to run, and he really didn’t want her to feel sorry for him.
Was he in or out? Did he want to see if this relationship would work, or was he going to sabotage it?
“Would you like to meet Brady?”
He felt her hesitation, but of course she said, “Yes. Absolutely.” Because what else could someone say in a situation like that?
Chapter 11
Bewildered, Monroe stared at Koenraad, but he was already at the back exit of the kitchen. Waiting for her. His entire body was rigid, tense.
She slowly wiped her hands on a terry cloth towel. “Right now?”
“It won’t take long. I don’t think you’ll have much to say to each other.” His mouth curled down almost imperceptibly, but Monroe saw.
He headed down the hallway toward the back of the mansion, and Monroe followed, growing more and more perplexed with every step. This made no sense. The garage was the opposite direction.
As they passed the hallway where they’d had sex on a table the day before, Monroe snuck a glance over. The table was still there, the shelf still splintered by Koenraad’s lethal bite.
He opened the back door and stepped outside, then took her hand as she joined him. The night had gotten cloudy, but she could still see enough of his features to know that he was miserable. Grieving? Was there a grave out here?
“Brady was unplanned. I wasn’t even dating his mother.” He paused. “Actually, I rather dislike her, and I did, even then.”
“Then why—”
“I wish I could say that I was young and naive, but it was just stupidity. I knew she wasn’t trustworthy.” The way he snapped his mouth shut told her there was way more to the story. Who the hell slept with a woman he hated? He must have been really, really drunk. But she couldn’t see that, either.
Wow. And she’d thought having a boyfriend flake on being her wedding date was a disaster. She got the impression that Koenraad hadn’t even gotten to the worst part of the story yet.
“Brady’s birth changed everything. I was drifting, unfocused. I suppose it’s a cliché, but he gave me purpose. I was born wealthy, even for a shifter, and I took a lot of things for granted. Having a son with the challenges that Brady does… it snapped me out of my ignorance, my assumptions about the world.”
Brady does? Present tense?
They were past the large pool—and Monroe suddenly realized where he was leading her.
Master of the Deep Page 9
