Laci grabbed a slice of cake and pushed back her chair. She eyed the bar. “I need a drink to wash this cake down with.”
Brandy slid back, too, slipping on her taffeta flip-flops and slapping them against her feet with her toes. “And some music to try out these new dancing shoes.”
Ty took his cue and headed for the bar.
The way the girls drank, he’d be busy for hours. While Ty was occupied, Treflee intended to seize the opportunity to search his tent. Not that she seriously believed he’d leave anything valuable lying around for her or anyone else to find. But she was desperate and bound by the code of suspicious and highly curious wives to take a look.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Treflee paused at the opening to Ty’s tent. The last time she’d searched his room, someone had tried to kill her with a lei. She looked down at the pink and white plumeria flowers looped around her neck. Unlike plastic, this real flower one was too delicate to do much damage.
While Greg unwittingly created a diversion as he banged, scraped, and loaded dishes into the caterer’s bin, she slipped into Ty’s tent.
Not surprisingly, it was a real bachelor-pad tent. A backpack and half a case of beer tossed in the corner, a full-sized inflatable air mattress in the middle of the space, a couple of towels and some toiletries and clothes lying around. All that was missing for the perfect ambience was a box of condoms.
She tested the air mattress with her foot. Not bad for an evening romp if it came to that. Pretty cushy, with a fair amount of bounce.
She looked through the towels, toiletries, and clothes. Nothing, as expected. She replaced them as she’d found them. Outside, Greg shattered a dish. She jumped.
Did real spies startle so easily? Did her terminally unperturbable husband, Ty? If she was going to keep this up much longer, she needed to develop unflappable nerves and eyes in the back of her head.
She grabbed the backpack and riffled through it quickly. Nothing, nothing, and more nothing! She did a little mental cursing. Foiled again! She put everything back more or less as she’d found it. Having a photographic memory would have been a big asset right about now.
Something rustled outside. She froze, heart pounding. Listening. Barely breathing for what seemed like an eternity.
Silence, pan clanking, and drunken laughter. No psychotic lei stranglers jumped in from the bushes. Finally, she peeked through the tent flap and made her exit.
She’d tried to avoid it, she really had, but fate had left her only one option—get Ty out of his clothes and search them. And him.
* * *
Out of the corner of his eye, Ty saw Treflee sneak off as he poured the girls another round. A few more and they’d pass out. It wouldn’t surprise him if Treflee was off to search his tent. The woman had prying eyes and her curiosity was anything but idle. She was probably looking for more dirt on him and a way to get him to sign those damned papers. He knew better than to believe her suddenly flirtatious act. She was up to something. He intended to make sure it backfired on her.
He wondered if she really thought he’d leave anything lying around. She’d always been too optimistic for her own good. He’d even hidden the pearls he planned to give her tonight.
He smiled to himself. Just how far would she go to get what she thought she wanted? He knew what he wanted—her naked and in his arms. No divorce. Ever.
He had a plan to get her there. Just as soon as the eighty proof ran out.
* * *
Carrie caught Treflee’s arm as she returned to the party. “Where have you been?”
Treflee pointed to the Porta Pottis behind the tents.
“You’ve been gone a long time.” Carrie’s speech was almost too precise, as if she were trying too hard not to slur.
Treflee shrugged, hoping Ty hadn’t noticed her absence, too. She’d thought she’d been quick in his tent. Time flies when you’re playing spy.
“I thought you’d chickened out,” Carrie said.
“What?”
“That speech at dinner and the way you looked at him like he was a piece of huli-huli chicken. When are you going to make a move on our hot tour guide, Ty?”
“That blatant?” Good, I’ve done my job.
“Totally.”
“He’s playing bartender right now—”
“No problem. I’ll release him!” Carrie made a grand gesture, as if she were a queen handing out pardons.
“Yeah, do that.” Treflee’s heart pounded. Ty naked—way too salacious a thought after a six-month abstinence stint.
“I will.” Carrie nodded. “I will.”
She grabbed Treflee’s arm and dragged her to the bar. She snapped her fingers to get Ty’s attention. “The girls have had enough. Shift’s over.”
She turned from him toward the girls and waved her arms. “Hey! Closing time. One last call if you want alcohol.”
Brandy called out for her to grab what was left of the hard stuff and come join them.
Carrie slapped the bar. “Okay. You’re done.” She made a shooing motion. “Go.”
She grabbed the remains of the last bottle of coconut rum and wandered off to share with the others.
Ty stepped away from the bar and watched Carrie walk off. “Your cousin’s a world-class heavyweight drinker. Anyone else would have passed out by now.”
Treflee nodded. “The ride back tomorrow should be fun. They’re all going to have magnificent hangovers in the morning.” She had a wicked thought. “How fun would it be if I hid their sunglasses?”
His eyes twinkled. “You’d have to hide their rearview spy glasses, too.”
“Good point.”
Ty leaned toward her and whispered in a low, sexy voice, “Any particular reason Carrie thought it was time to shut down the bar?”
Treflee tried to appear nonchalant. “She knows her limit.”
“Does she?”
Treflee nodded.
Ty took her arm and whispered in her ear, “Rebound guy? Seriously?”
She stared up at him, trying to keep her heart from hammering out of control, and laughed for the others’ benefit. “Why not? Ty the tour guide’s hot and handy.” She ran her gaze over him, letting her alcohol-induced flirty side take over. “I don’t think my husband will mind.”
He stared at her mouth, looking as if he wanted to kiss her. “No, I don’t think he’ll mind at all.” He paused. “Why this change of heart?”
She stroked his cheek and whispered back, “Got to keep up the cover and make good on my toast. Ignore you and I ruin all that clever cover setup work.”
The way he studied her made her knees go weak. Or maybe that was nerves and alcohol. Either way, it felt good. Since she was wearing the comfy taffeta wedding flip-flops, she was in no danger of toppling over. Yet.
He nodded toward the others. “We have an audience.”
She stroked his arm. Nothing concealed up his sleeve. Too bad. She needed a more thorough and private search. “Yeah, we definitely don’t want that.”
“I know a place away from spying eyes.” He put his arm around her. “Very secluded.” His eyes had a devilish, sexy sparkle and his voice was low. “Someone’s fantasy come true.”
Such arrogance. Fantasy come true. Indeed?
He didn’t give up. “Still like to skinny-dip?”
“I’m wearing a bathing suit beneath this cover-up.”
He grinned. “No problem. I can fix that.”
* * *
The night was balmy and calm, very pleasant. But it was Ty’s heat beside Treflee that drove her wild. Never drink and flirt.
Ty shone his flashlight on the path ahead of them. He led, holding her hand with his thumb looped over hers, their elbows tucked together. In the deep darkness of the woods, with the fear of Chinese assassins lurking in the recesses of her mind, against all reason, Treflee wanted him with an intensity that thrilled. Him and that drop of his.
The forest smelled of damp night air, her tropical lei, and cologne. Th
e combination drove her mad with lust. If she ever bought him cologne again, it was going to be something hideous and cheap, a benign drugstore variety scented like old man rather than primal need.
She stumbled over a root.
Ty caught her. Their eyes locked. Her breath caught. She’d been way too long without his touch.
He put a hot finger to her lips. “Sshhh. We don’t want anyone following us.”
No, we definitely don’t want that.
She kissed his finger and smiled at him.
He grinned and pulled her onward.
The air grew moist and heavy with fine mist. The plants sparkled with dew in the beam of his flashlight.
She heard something very faint in the distance, a roar growing louder with each step they took. She stopped short, her heart racing, pulling Ty to a halt with her. “What’s that?”
He stiffened, on high alert. “What’s what? What did you hear?”
“That thrumming roar.”
“Oh, that.” Ty stared deep into her eyes. “Water. Falling.”
Her eyes went wide as she searched his face. “You weren’t joking?”
His grin deepened. His eyes reflected the moonlight and sparkled with lust as he squeezed her hand and stroked it provocatively with his thumb.
He wasn’t joking. How many times have I told him I dream of making love with him beneath a waterfall? Someplace warm and tropical where naked is natural and comfortable. With soft sand beneath my toes and big fragrant flowers overhead perfuming the world? Somewhere I could let go and go primal.
“About what?” His tone was way too innocent to believe. “I never joke where fantasies are concerned.” His words were low and sexy, definitely not teasing.
Part of her wanted to break away and run back to camp. You don’t make love with your nearly ex-husband, act out your lifelong sexual fantasy beneath a waterfall, and come away unchanged. You also don’t just get him naked, grab his clothes, and run for cover into a forest so lush you’ll never find your way back. Especially not if your husband is an expert at tracking and extracting secrets.
Ty had just led her into a no-win scenario. And she’d bet he knew it.
“Coming?” He squeezed her hand, tensing as if he expected her to try to break away and run. “It’s just ahead.”
She looked back down the dark path they’d come. The odds were not in her favor. And she needed that drop of his.
Taking up the challenge, she squeezed his hand in return and ran the back of the fingers of her free hand along the line of his jaw, over the unfamiliar prickliness of his beard. “Can’t wait.”
“That makes two of us.” Still holding the flashlight, he dropped her hand, took her head in his hands, and kissed her with a bruising passion, openmouthed, deeply, possessively.
His beard scrubbed her lips, reminding her of who and what he was. But right then, with his tongue hot in her mouth and her heart pounding in her ears, she couldn’t remember why it mattered.
He released her suddenly and grabbed her hand.
Breathing hard, stunned by her reaction to him, and trying not to topple over, she stared at him, still feeling his kiss on her lips.
“When we get to the clearing, the water will drown out everything.” He stared at her with the moonlight highlighting the fire in his eyes.
Hard as she stared back, she couldn’t tell whether it was only lust she saw reflected there or something more. She was sure the mask was intentional. He only let her see what he wanted her to. Right now, as always, subterfuge served his purpose and kept her off balance.
“Drown out every whisper, every protest.” His stare was mesmerizing. His tone contained a warning. “There’ll be no going back. I won’t stop. No one will hear you scream, babe.”
The way he caressed the words made it clear he wasn’t planning on murdering her, unless killing her with passion counted. A ripple of desire coursed through her, making her wonder if she was spy enough to handle this mission.
“I won’t catch a word even if you yell directly into my ear.”
She took a deep breath, trying to shore up her nerves as she studied him. “And if an assassin jumps out of the bushes? How do I get your attention then?”
He bent and kissed her neck, grazing her skin with his teeth and his warm breath. “You’ll figure it out.”
She shivered with pleasure, certain he could feel the pulse leaping in her neck, giving away her fear and treacherous desire. “And when I do?”
“I’ll protect you with my life.” He was deadly serious.
She ran her fingers down his back, thinking about them naked together in a pool beneath a waterfall, him completely disarmed and unarmed. At her mercy. “With what? I’ll be enjoying your big gun.” She kissed his jaw.
He ran his fingers through her hair. “I’ll figure something out. If someone takes a shot at us, dive. Three feet beneath the surface ought to do it.”
She relaxed, enjoying the feeling of his fingers in her hair, and stared up into his eyes. “You don’t think this is carrying the cover thing a little too far?”
“In the spy world, there’s no such thing as too far.” He kissed her again, deeply and fully.
When she couldn’t stand the need building in her an instant longer she pulled away. “So, big boy, are you going to take me there?”
“I hope to hell so.” He took her hand again and pushed through the bushes into a clearing so beautiful, just looking at it took her breath away. Her fantasies had done reality a grave injustice.
They hadn’t included moonlight so strong it made the water look like streams of silver, or the pounding thrum of water that left her senses taut and alive, or the cool mist that caressed her body.
Before she had a chance to catalog the other deficiencies of her imagination, Ty pulled her into a kiss. Not a little husbandly hello kiss like they’d fallen into just before the split. The full-on, full-in parting of the lips, thrusting of tongues, caressing of mouths that made her legs weak.
She cuddled into him.
All the better to feel for that thing he’s hiding. Denial is such a convenient emotion.
She felt nothing but delicious, hard biceps, washboard abs, and strong shoulders. So tempting, she couldn’t resist pressing her breasts against his chest and running her hands through his hair. Her aroused breasts were so sensitive. They’d certainly find anything that didn’t belong. Unfortunately, everything she felt did belong. One very hard, very erect thing belonged very much inside her.
Ty switched off the flashlight and dropped it beside them. He trailed kisses over her shoulders as he pulled her cover-up down over her breasts, past her waist and hips, and completely off.
She stepped out of it and into him. Two could play at undressing. She unbuttoned his shirt. Kissed his chest. Sucked his nipples. Stuck her hands in his empty back pockets and cupped his firm cheeks.
Where have you hidden it, Ty?
He gave her no choice. She’d just have to look harder. She unfastened his shorts and pulled them off.
He untied the strings of her bikini top, pulled it loose and tossed it away. She was about to protest when his lips found her breasts and all rational thought left her.
She arched back and cupped his head against her. In the name of divorce, this was going too far.
He sucked and licked.
Or maybe not.
She kicked off her taffeta flip-flops.
He pulled off her bikini bottoms and slid his fingers between her legs.
She stepped out of her bottoms and pulled off his briefs. All she had to do now was probe his clothes with her bare toes. Tease him, get that device or drive or whatever it was.
But speaking of drives …
* * *
Ty knew he couldn’t trust her. The mission to win her back was going too smoothly. She was up to something. But what the hell? She was tipsy, flirty, naked, and he wanted her.
He took her in his arms and lifted her off her feet, foiling any possible a
ttempt at clothing theft. If she had any ideas about an exchange of his clothes for his signature on the dotted divorce paper line, he was going to thwart her efforts.
He kissed her as he lifted her off her feet and waded backward into the water. Deeper, deeper. On all counts.
When the water reached her toes, she wrapped her legs around his waist, splashing water up his legs and pressing into his kiss as she rocked against him.
He was hard and eager, on the very ragged edge, wanting to plunge in. Six months was way too long to be celibate, but he’d been trained in self-control. He had no intention of rushing things. No matter what happened later, she wasn’t going to forget this fantasy, or him. Ever. He was going to make sure of that.
He waded deeper. Deeper. Until he was nearly waist deep. The water rippled against the curves of Tref’s very fine ass. She pulled out of the kiss and stared into his eyes. He was an expert at reading emotions, but the dim light and his own desire messed with his mind. Other than lust, he wasn’t certain what he saw. Maybe guilt. He hoped so. She never should have left him.
He nuzzled her ear. Another step and the cool water made her gasp. Or maybe that was his tongue in her ear.
She bit his shoulder until it hurt.
He took another step backward. The cool water hit them at waist level. Tref shuddered in his arms and sucked his neck. He tipped her head back into a kiss and fell backward into the pool, dragging her beneath the surface, still holding her in a kiss as they crouched.
She struggled against him, trying to break free and push to the surface. He knew what he was doing, knew her fear of the water. But he held her firm, kissing her deeply, sharing his breath with her. He wanted her to trust him implicitly. It seemed vitally important.
It was dark beneath the water, with only the smallest shaft of moonlight filtering through. Tref’s hair floated around them, silky and soft as it brushed against him.
He caressed her gently. She stopped struggling, finally returning his kiss. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed into him. Satisfied, and running out of breath, he popped to a stand, pushing to the surface.
The Spy Who Left Me Page 22