by Zoe Dawson
His breath was hot and heavy against her skin. “She’s in the past, best leave her there,” he murmured, dragging her and dropping her back against his arm. He leaned into her space, one hand sliding down her belly and back up again. Then he looked down. “A heart,” he said, gazing at her piercing. “Sexy.”
Kinley’s heart kicked into overdrive as he came closer, though fear wasn’t the dominant emotion. It should have been, but it wasn’t.
That strange sense of desire and anticipation crept along her nerves. He wanted her. She could see the promise in his eyes and felt something wild and reckless and completely foreign to her rise up in answer, pushing her to close the distance, to take a chance. His eyes dared her, his mouth lured—masculine, sexy, lips parted in invitation. What fear she felt was of herself, of this attraction that was drawing on her and miraculously giving something back.
How to read him? It was impossible. Was he the womanizer that he claimed to be? Or was he just a bruised and battered soul like her? Hurt somewhere in his past in a way that made him shun love by never allowing it, like she shunned it by never letting it matter?
Thinking around him, when he was leaning over her like this, was impossible. It was only possible to feel.
He went to kiss her, but before his mouth touched hers, her cell chimed.
She fumbled over and grabbed it. “Hello.”
“Kinley, it’s Kirk. I know it’s early and you were up into the wee hours of the morning, but I wanted to let you know that we got hits on your hunches.”
Her stomach jumping, she glanced over her shoulder at Beau, then reached down and snagged her nightie. It wasn’t exactly a decent garment, but at least she wouldn’t be naked. “The black man is National Defense Force? I thought I had recognized him.”
“His name is Umprey Thompson, and yes. He was one of the members who were here to escort the decommissioned Point Rival to the Bahamas.”
“It’s confirmed? It’s the Point Rival?”
“Yes, confirmed. Search and Rescue have been notified. We’re going by your coordinates, but we don’t hold out much hope that the crew is alive. If they eliminated these guys, we suspect they eliminated the original crew. Took them down from the inside.”
“And was my hunch on the other victim correct?”
“Spot on. Got a hit off Automated Fingerprint Identification System on one Dudley Martin. He’s got quite the rap sheet here in the US, mostly drug offenses. He’s also wanted in the Bahamas—for trafficking. With the drug connection and the hijacking of the Rival, the commandant is steamed. He wants you and Jerrott to head to the Bahamas and continue the investigation there. I’ll keep you posted on any developments here. He wants any leads followed to the furthest extent. We need to know what we’re dealing with here. I’ve already briefed the director of NCIS. I’m sure Jerrott will be getting a call as well.”
Right on cue, Beau’s cell rang, and he answered it.
This wasn’t the way she wanted the lead on the case to discover her hunches had panned out. She was so careful now about what she revealed to whom until she was sure about the information. “No hits on the blood we found at the scene yet?”
“No, the ME is working on it. I’ve already updated him on these developments.”
“I have another hunch about that, too.”
“Go on. You’re on a roll.”
She glanced at Beau and he was frowning. He gave her a steely-eyed glance, then focused back on his own conversation. Okay, that was decidedly a we’re-going-to-have-an-uncomfortable-discussion look for sure.
“Don’t waste time checking AFIS. Go right for INTERPOL.”
“International database, huh? All right. I’ll pass that along.”
“Thank you, sir,” she said.
“Kinley, you’re doing fine. That was some good work.”
“Thank you, sir.”
The reassurance went a long way toward calming her doubts.
“Dorrie, you have those reservations?” he asked, his voice muffled. Dorrie was their assistant. “I’ll let you speak with Dorrie. Keep me posted, and Cooper?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Be careful.” Kirk said, his voice laced with concern.
There was a pause, then Dorrie said, “Hello, Kinley. I have you and Special Agent Jerrott booked out of Norfolk International for ten a.m. Does that work for you?”
“Yes, Dorrie, that’s fine. Thank you.”
“Sending the e-reservation to your phone now. There will be a car waiting for you at the Nassau airport. I’m sending that, as well. The DEA works out of the American Embassy in Nassau and is expecting you. And, Kinley,” Dorrie said, her voice dropping to a whisper, “I wanted to give you a heads-up. The agent you’re to meet is Daniel Wescott. I’m sorry, Kinley.”
“Thanks,” she said, closing her eyes. She wasn’t prepared to see Daniel ever again, but she was a professional and he was the contact, so she would suck it up and get the job done, no matter her personal feelings. Her phone dinged and she said, “Just got it. Thanks.”
She disconnected the call.
Beau was leaning back against the pillows still on the phone.
“No, Chris, she didn’t, but we were up late last night.” He cut her a look and she gave him a noncommittal expression, her gut churning.
“Yes. It was good work. I’ll get the details from her. I’ll check in when we land.”
He disconnected the call and stared at her, definite steel there. Oh, man. He was pissed. She was starting to think of him as an ally, but now, with this look he was giving her, she was sure she had fractured what little trust they were building in their relationship. Tenuous as it was.
“I’m going to assume that you didn’t deliberately leave me out of the loop to make me look like a complete idiot.”
She took a breath. “They were hunches. I didn’t tell you because that’s all they were, just hunches. I’ve learned that until I have solid information, I shouldn’t share.” The terrible incident she had been involved in with Daniel came back at her like a wrecking ball. She didn’t like second-guessing herself, but that was all she could seem to do now.
“So, it was by-the-book deliberate?” Energy. It emanated off of him in waves without him even trying. “That makes me feel so much better. I don’t like being caught flat-footed with my boss.” His voice was low, calm, smooth. Only the tight muscles in his jaw, the gleam in his eyes, gave away his agitation with her at the moment.
Her eyes didn’t know where to look. It was so distracting to argue with him when he was completely naked and looking…well, looking like he did. She willed her rapidly beating heart to slow down.
He sat up, chest muscles contracting, six-pack abs rippling. His eyes were a stormy blue.
What kind of quagmire had she just immersed herself in? She never really knew whether she should just be honest, and if she voiced her doubts, would he discount them like Daniel had?
“Could you, um—” she reached down and picked up his boxer briefs “—get dressed?” Her need to check and recheck everything was coming back to bite her on the butt. She just wanted to make sure she had her facts straight. Right? That was it, because of what had happened with Daniel. She was even more sensitive to that now. Had she been undermining Beau’s authority? She didn’t want to do that. He was the lead and she respected that, but she had been so angry when they’d first given lead to him. Was he now going to question everything she said? Had she lost his trust? Even though they had just met, and in her need and stupidity she’d almost slept with him, she still had to find some common ground to work with him.
“Do I have to watch my back and cover my ass?” he asked, the intensity of his gaze impossible to look away from at such close range.
She started, shaking her head. “I didn’t do it deliberately.” She bit her lip. “I wait until I have results before I share anything.”
“You’re sure about that or are you leaving me out in the cold?”
“Yes. I�
�wanted to make sure before I said anything. It’s important to check things over before you present ideas.”
“We’re a team. Everything you have to say, I want to know, even if it sounds like the dumbest thing in the world. Women are recruited by agencies because they bring a different perspective and look at solving problems from an entirely different point of reference. They contribute unique and important perspectives, and insight based on a lifetime of experiences that cannot be imagined by a male agent. They simply approach problems differently. These different analytical skills, approaches, and talents often spell the difference between success and failure on a case or investigation.”
He rose up from the bed with powerful movements and all she wanted to do was push him right back onto it. The sun was just rising, lighting the room. He snatched the underwear out of her hand and slipped them on. It didn’t help. He was still too potent, but that was true even when he was fully dressed. God, it might help if he’d get a haircut. His hair was so sexy, and coupled with those penetrating eyes… Oh. He was talking to her.
“What did you say?”
He set his hands on his hips and gave her an irritated look.
“Sorry,” she murmured.
He sighed and a slight smile broke out on his face, but it didn’t diffuse the friction they seemed to generate just by being in the same room. “It would help if you’d keep your eyes on mine.”
“Really, you think that would help?”
“You testing me, cher?”
“I think it’s the other way around.”
He stepped up to her, flashing an irresistible half grin, an intimate sparkle in his eyes. “You think so?”
She shivered at his closeness. “We need to get things back on an impersonal level. I appreciate what you did last night. It was…what I needed, but we should keep this relationship professional. Things could get so muddled up and complicated.”
“Just to clarify things. I agree that our relationship should be professional, but after being this close to you and going against my desire for you…” He shook his head. “That’s going to be tough. Technically, we’re not really partners.” he said softly.
“That’s true, but it’s better if we try to get back our objectivity.”
“You sure about that?”
No, she wasn’t, but this was a terrible lapse on her part. It was safer. She wanted the man, especially after feeling his naked body against hers. She wanted him desperately. “During this investigation, we need to keep straight what is important. Fulfilling the mission.”
He sighed and went to go past her, the scent of him strong as he stopped too close to her. She had to keep her hands clenched to keep from touching him.
“Good point, Kinley. Just remember to keep me in the loop on…everything. Yes?”
She nodded, his closeness making her breathing shallow.
“Own your ideas. Don’t worry about consequences until you have to deal with them.”
“That’s hard for me,” she said as he stared at her, his eyes going to her mouth briefly.
“Never said it would be easy, but you have the courage in you. I see that.” His eyes dipped and roved over her mouth again, the half-grin taking on a special warmth, the sparkle in his eyes softening into a steady gaze that was penetrating, intoxicating and very sensual.
This wasn’t going to be easy at all.
Chapter Seven
The plane set down on New Providence, the island upon which the capital city of Nassau was located. Beau was finding it difficult to keep his mind on their next steps. Waking up with Kinley had been unexpected. Mind-blowing, but unexpected. With the attraction still burning between them, he wasn’t used to sleeping with a woman he wanted and not sleeping with her. She was a sensual ache he couldn’t seem to shake, even with his formidable will.
There would be a time when they weren’t working this case together and he was anticipating getting her completely naked again with a totally different outcome.
“The DEA agents are going to meet us at the hotel.”
The DEA and the Coast Guard worked with Operation Bahamas, Turks, and Caicos (OPBAT), a combined Coast Guard, DEA and Government of Bahamas partnership to combat drug smuggling to and from the Bahamas, working out of the American Embassy.
She nodded. She was a bundle of contradictions. She questioned herself plenty, but when it came to breaking the news to the families she’d been a rock. He’d been like that before the SEALs, questioning himself, looking for pitfalls and falling into one anyway with Jennifer. His trust had been shattered along with his illusions of love. What he’d thought was real love.
He really was over her. That wasn’t a factor, nor was he pining for her. He’d just learned a valuable lesson the day he’d come home and found his world had caved in. He hadn’t forgotten that lesson. He’d spent his time avoiding commitment.
After she’d left and he’d been ground into dust by the drill sergeants and rebuilt into rock-hard granite, his confidence knew no bounds. His belief that the world was a dangerous place hadn’t shifted much. He’d seen it firsthand. But he didn’t fear it any longer. His training and his abilities had made that world just a bit more manageable. What had changed was his outlook toward it.
She nodded and led the way into the car-rental place. As soon as their car was ready, they both reached for the keys. When his fingers brushed over her skin, he felt the connection straight to his toes, his gut twisting into knots. Why did he have this constant reaction to her?
He’d come close to breaking one of his cardinal rules. Looking at her, he suspected he might break a few more.
“Do you want to drive?” he asked.
At the touch of his hand, she pulled away as if burned. Yeah, that’s how it felt every time she touched him. “Not if you do,” she replied. “You’re the boss.”
He wanted to shake her up, get that I-want-you look off her face so they both could breathe. “Well, they drive on the opposite side of the road here. Can be confusing.”
“You’d better drive then.”
When they pulled up and parked at the hotel, he noticed that she seemed to get more anxious. He’d been to the Bahamas as a SEAL on maneuvers. With its seven hundred islands and two thousand cays, it was over 100,000 square miles of gorgeous tropical paradise. A nation built by pirates and rumrunners and a strong British contingent. The islands were a unique blend of proper British ancestry wrapped in the colorful West African culture with a little pirate riff-raff thrown in.
As they came through the lobby doors, two men rose. One was Beau’s age with sandy hair, an overconfident air about him. The other guy was older with white hair and a mustache. At first glance they looked like a couple of drug dealers. The sandy-haired guy was dressed in a sleeveless, white, button-down shirt and dark slacks, and the older guy had his hair in a ponytail and was dressed in a very loud tropical shirt and white shorts.
The sandy-haired guy took one look at Kinley and stopped. A wary look mixed with hope appeared on his face. He knew Kinley—well.
Beau frowned, an unsettling feeling coming over him. He didn’t like the way the guy was looking at her. Beau was used to hanging with a woman for a short period of time. There was usually no follow-up, no matter how much he liked her. He avoided commitment like the plague. Why was it that all of a sudden he wanted to grab the guy’s collar and say in his most back-the-hell-up voice, She’s mine!
“Kinley,” the guy said, giving Beau a cursory glance. “I didn’t know it was you they were sending. What a pleasant surprise.”
“Hello.” Her tone was flat and that gave him a lot of satisfaction. “Daniel Wescott, this is Special Agent Beau Jerrott, NCIS.”
The guy finally looked at him, then his face changed as he took in Beau’s expression. Beau didn’t extend his hand and neither did Daniel.
“This is Ken Stewart, my partner.”
“We thought we’d give you a chance to go up to your room and drop your bags and we’d take you out to
a late lunch and compare notes,” Ken said, looking between Beau and Daniel. As a seasoned agent, it was no surprise the older guy was cluing in on their tension.
“Sounds good,” Beau said.
“Kinley, could I speak to you for a moment, alone?” Daniel said.
She glanced at him and her mouth thinned. “Maybe later. We should get going.” They headed for the front desk and signed in.
On the elevator, she was quiet, and Beau wondered if she’d heard a thing he’d said this morning. “Who is this guy to you?”
“Someone I used to know.”
“As in dated?”
“It’s personal, so I don’t believe I need to answer that.”
The elevator opened and she headed out to her room. Before she could open the door, he said, “It does matter. He’s now part of the investigation and I think this morning I said I don’t like being left out of the loop.”
“Are you asking this as lead investigator in this case or as the man who wants to sleep with me?”
How did she keep catching him off guard?
“As lead on this case,” he lied.
“Yes, I dated him. It was a disaster.”
“DEA? Is this the guy you worked with on the task force?”
She gritted her teeth. “Yes. Okay? Can I go now?”
“Kinley. Is this going to be a problem?”
She studied his face, shifting anxiously. “I don’t know, Beau. Is it?”
“On my part? Is that what you’re asking?”
“I can only guess you’re pushing this because you think this is personal and it will affect my professional performance. It won’t. Suffice it to say that he and I are no longer…together. Is that enough?”
“I want the details.”
“We don’t have time for that now. Stop being jealous.”
He backed up out of her personal space. “I’m not jealous,” he said. She gave him a skeptical look and disappeared into her room, closing the door.
