Under the Covers

by Roz Lee

  A lump formed in her throat, and she choked back tears. She swung her feet to the floor and sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly, willing her weakness to go along with the carbon dioxide. This wouldn't do, this moping, wishful-thinking, poor-me attitude. She'd known all along it was going to end. She'd known, too, it was going to hurt like hell when it happened. That didn't make the ball of fire where her heart should be any less painful.

  She made her way to the shower and stepped under the hot spray. She braced her hands against the wall and ducked her head under the nozzle. Water poured down her face, mixing with the gut-wrenching tears she could no longer hold at bay. She wrapped her arms around her stomach and sank to the floor. Water beat on her body and swirled around her.

  Nothing could hurt this bad. During her FBI training, she'd imagined what it would feel like to be shot, but nothing she'd created in her mind equaled the pain of knowing she wouldn't see Drew again.

  Chapter Twelve

  Bree stepped aboard the tender and made her way to the small gathering of crew around the captain's chair. This was the morning she'd anticipated for months. The one where she put her plan into action. Two weeks earlier, she'd received the go-ahead from her superior, but it had taken all that time to work out the logistics of her plan, and to find someone to bring aboard the Lothario to replace her.

  She stood near the railing and watched as the kitchen staff secured the trays of food and the equipment needed to feed over three thousand passengers and crew while on shore for a day. The chore was a familiar one and completed in a short amount of time. Her hand tightened on the rail as the tender shoved off from the loading dock on the Lothario and headed to the private island where Ryan and Candace Callahan made their home. Only today, they were in Miami, and his brother Sean and his wife, Celeste, were occupying Ryan's home.

  "Hey, Bree." She recognized the man calling her as one of the men from the engine room. He was dressed in a Lothario staff swimsuit and baseball cap. A whistle hung from a lanyard around his neck, and he had a beach towel rolled up under one arm. Everyone on board had multiple duties, and no doubt his second job was lifeguard on beach day.

  "Hi, Tony. Lifeguard duty today?"

  "Yeah. I don't mind. Gets me out in the sun one day a week."

  She could relate to that. Getting off the Lothario permanently was a goal she'd worked hard to achieve. "I hear you. I'm looking forward to some sun myself."

  "Hey, where's Drew? I haven't seen him in a while. This is usually his week to come ashore."

  "Yeah," one of the other lifeguards chimed in. "It's not like him to miss his threesome. A chorus of agreement came from nearly everyone within the group. No one seemed to notice she hadn't answered the question, and that was fine with her. She didn't have a clue how to answer it anyway. Bree looked on, her mind registering the information with dawning understanding. With each ribald comment, her heart sank lower, and her gaze became more unfocused. About once a month, Drew left the ship on shore excursion day, returning on the last tender. She'd never asked him what he was doing on the island. Even though she hadn't taken advantage of the shore days, most of the crew did on a rotating basis, so it never occurred to her Drew had another reason for going to the island.

  She listened to the speculation and knew in her heart what was true. Drew was still part of the threesome with Celeste and Sean. There had been speculation about it from the first week she and Celeste came aboard the Lothario to try and stop the unnamed threat against the ship. But it had only been speculation. No one really knew the extent of the relationship between the three of them, no one except Bree. Over the years she'd spent working with Celeste at the FBI, Bree had learned a lot about Celeste Hamilton's life as a DIA agent, and Celeste had admitted once to being in love with both her partners. Sean Callahan had demanded she choose either him or Drew, and instead of making that decision, Celeste had run. She'd joined the FBI, and it wasn't until she was assigned to the Lothario case that she met up with her former partners again.

  Bree had met Drew on the first night of the cruise, before she knew he was the same man Celeste had told her about. Celeste had all but dropped the case in Bree's lap for the next week so she could spend time with Drew and Sean. It didn't take a genius to figure out the three still had feelings for one another. In fact, she knew Celeste had spent time with both men, but she never believed they'd become a threesome. The whole idea made her sick to her stomach.

  How could he? How could he make love to her, and still be a part of a threesome that included another woman? And not just any woman, but the one he'd been in love with for years.

  "Mine." The word echoed in her memory. The beautiful jeweled symbol of his possession chaffed between her legs and felt like a hot ball of betrayal lodged within her. Bile rose in her throat, remembering the feel of his gaze on her ass when he'd first given her the plug.

  "Mine." He'd said it with such conviction and emotion that she'd believed he meant it. Did he say the same thing to Celeste while he was buried deep inside her? Bree turned away from the group and closed her eyes against the pain and humiliation, but the imagined scenes wouldn't stop. Drew fucking Celeste, sharing her with Sean. What exactly went on between the three of them? How could Drew fuck another man's wife? Did he have something going on with Sean, too? And how could he do and say the things he had to her, all the while having sex, or was it making love, with two other people?

  "Hey, Bree." A tap on her shoulder snapped her out of her hellish thoughts. The lifeguard who'd asked her about Drew stood over her shoulder. "We're here. You want to get off before we unload all this stuff?"

  She nodded. "Yes. Thank you, I would." She couldn't get off fast enough. She scanned the empty beach and sighed with relief. Sean and Celeste hadn't arrived yet. With a little luck, she could pick up the boat waiting on the other side of the island and be at the construction site before they caught up with her. She'd have to talk to them eventually, but given what she'd just discovered, she needed time to sort it all out before she met them face to face.

  The powerboat was exactly where they said it would be. She gave the universe a big thank you that she hadn't encountered the Callahans. How she was going to face Celeste now, she had no idea. Did Celeste know Drew was sleeping with another woman? And if so, did she know it was Bree? A fresh wave of mortification swept over her at the thought. Tears stung her eyes and brushed across her temples as she sped to the adjacent island.

  The sunshine and salt breeze helped clear her mind, but her heart was another thing. Nothing Drew had said held any meaning now. It had all been in the interest of getting her into his bed, and she'd fallen for it. Worse, she'd believed him. That's what she got for listening to her heart and not her brain. Hadn't she known all along Drew was still in love with Celeste? But she'd let her heart convince her otherwise, and look where it got her. Now she was the fourth wheel to a threesome.

  As she slowed near the dock for the resort, a new resolve began to form. She wasn't going to be the extra wheel on anyone's cart. Drew Whitcomb could go fuck himself, and anyone else he pleased, but she was through with him. It was time to kick her career into high gear, and kick Drew out of her life. It was time to move on.

  Her new resolve followed her from the dock to the building site where Bree introduced herself to the construction foreman, a big man wearing a hard-hat, a welcoming smile and a serious sunburn. He examined her credentials, then ushered her to his office in the newly completed section of the main building. "I'm glad you're here, Agent Stanton. I thought Mr. Callahan was coming with you."

  "Please, call me Bree."

  "Terry then, if we're going to be on a first-name basis."

  "I think that will be best. I doubt much is formal on the island, so we shouldn't be either." Terry nodded his agreement, and Bree continued. "Sean was going to come with me, but I guess something came up. He wasn't there to meet me this morning, so I came by myself." That wasn't strictly true. She'd taken an earlier tender than she'd
first indicated she would. If she'd waited a few minutes, Sean and Celeste would have met her. "I'm anxious to get into my role here. Sean told you I'd be acting as your new assistant?"

  "Yes. We went over the details. I'm to give you access to the entire complex, as well as all personnel files. I don't have a problem with that, given the circumstances, but I have to tell you, I've known all my employees for years, and I can't see any of them being involved in sabotaging this project."

  "I'm sure that's the case, Terry, but we can't afford to leave anything to chance. The person I'm looking for has used others to do his dirty work in the past, and I'm convinced he'll take matters into his own hands next time. I'll particularly be looking at all incoming deliveries and the people accompanying them."

  "I understand. Let me know what you need. I've been asked to cooperate fully, and I intend to do just that."

  Bree couldn't have asked for a better welcome. It was good to know the people she'd be working with had the same goal in mind. She went over her expectations with Terry, and he filled her in on what she would need to do to maintain her cover as his assistant. No one but the two of them would know few of her duties were real.

  ****

  It had been nearly three weeks since Drew had touched Bree. His skin burned to feel hers pressed against him, to feel her beneath him, riding him, anything, so long as she was skin to skin with him. He'd done what he came to do, settle his clients into their temporary life on the mainland, and see that their security detail was the best money could buy. He opened his email, hoping once again for something from Bree, but as usual, nothing. Was she wearing his gift? His cock swelled at the image permanently etched on his brain and never far from his thoughts. If it had been a printed photo, it would have been worn out by now.

  Drew switched to his DIA email. The page loaded, and he automatically sat up straighter. Two emails. One from his superior, and the other from Sean. Something was up. Sean wouldn't contact him via this link unless it was important, which meant Sean already knew what was in the other email.

  He clicked on the first email and his blood ran cold. Whatever it was couldn't be relayed on the internet. He made the phone call on the secure line. Drew's concern grew as he listened to the latest intelligence report, and his orders to diffuse the situation. He knew better than to question his superior, but he hoped to hell the intelligence was wrong. If Vernon Cannon was transporting a dirty bomb for a terrorist faction, then Bree might be in way over her head.

  The next email from Sean confirmed his fears. Bree was at the construction site working undercover as the assistant to the construction foreman. Sean himself had arranged the position for her before the latest information came through. Sean's parting words, get here, were unnecessary. He typed his one word response, coming, knowing Sean would be there with whatever he needed to protect the United States. And Bree.

  Bree. His heart seized at the thought of her up against terrorists. From the hotel to the helicopter pad, and on the interminably long flight to Ryan Callahan's island, Drew reminded himself Bree was a well-trained agent. She knew how to take care of herself. But she didn't know what he knew, and that could get her killed before she had a chance to defend herself. Going into any situation ignorant of all the facts was a recipe for disaster, and there was a lot Bree didn't know.

  Sean and Celeste met him at the heliport on the far side of the island. Drew's skin crawled with the need to get to Bree, to make sure she was safe, but rushing in without getting as much information as he could first wasn't going to help him do his job. He followed his friends back to Ryan's house. Sean had turned one bedroom into his own private command center, and the table in the middle was strewn with maps and printouts.

  "Tell me what we know for certain."

  "That won't take long. We have a credible report that a dirty bomb is on its way to the States." Drew opened his mouth, but Sean stopped him with a gesture. "Hold your questions for a second." Drew crossed his arms to keep from wrapping his hands around Sean's neck and trying to squeeze the information out of him quicker. Sean Callahan knew what he was doing, but he could be damned slow about getting to the point.

  "We think Bree is right. Cannon is still after R & R Enterprises, but he's lost interest in the Lothario. She thinks he's shifted his focus to the new resort that's under construction. Every indication is, she called it right. No one has any idea how Cannon will strike, but odds are he's going to do it himself, and that means he has to get on the island somehow. The most logical way is with a shipment of supplies."

  "How is Cannon connected to the terrorists?"

  Sean slid a photo across the table. "He's been spotted talking to them."

  Drew studied the black-and-white print for a moment. It was Cannon, all right. "Who did he meet?"

  "Taliban."

  "Fuck." Drew committed the photo to memory before tossing it back on the table. "What kind of supplies are we talking about, and where do they come from?"

  "There's a constant flow of deliveries to the island, everything from food for the construction crew to fuel for the generators. Then there are the construction materials. They arrive daily from all over the world. I told Ryan he should set up a warehouse in Miami to receive everything, then consolidate it and bring it out to the island. But he and Richard were afraid the extra time involved would delay the project."

  Drew paced the small room like a caged animal. "When will that idiot brother of yours learn to listen to your advice?"

  Sean's laugh was without humor. "Never, I suspect. He always was a hard-headed kid."

  "I might have a go at him when this is over."

  "Be my guest," Sean said with a smile.

  "This is all we have to go on? A picture of Cannon meeting some Taliban underling?"

  "That, and another source confirms the plan to smuggle the bomb into the country, by whatever means possible. We don't know for sure Cannon is involved in bringing the bomb in, but he's crazy enough to kidnap and ransom innocent women, so we have to believe he's capable of just about anything. And he did meet with the Taliban." Sean tapped the photo with his index finger. "I suspect he went looking for someone to build him a bomb, and he found someone. I seriously doubt he knows who he met with, or why they agreed to help him."

  "Or what kind of bomb they built for him." Sean nodded. "You think they're using him."

  "That's my guess," Sean said. "Cannon isn't exactly working with a full deck these days, so we can't assign rational thinking to his actions. But these people are methodical and cunning. If they can get an American citizen to do the work for them…."

  "So much the better," Drew finished for him.

  "Exactly. The resort will open in less than a year. That isn't long in terms of planning something like this. These people can be very patient. They plan their attacks for years, and sometimes it takes years more to carry them out. If they can get the bomb on the island now, stash it someplace safe, once the resort is open and full of guests, they detonate it."

  "Kaboom," Drew said. "They take out a bunch of perverted—their opinion—Americans, a resort that symbolizes everything they think is wrong with America. And the fallout carries to the mainland where it creates havoc and kills more Americans. It accomplishes everything they want in one fell swoop."

  "And not a single one has to get their feet dirty on American soil," Sean added.

  Drew nodded in agreement. As plans went, it was a good one, and Cannon had walked right into their hands. They couldn't have asked for a better patsy. An Oklahoma oil baron doing their work for them? Anyone could see the irony in that.

  "I don't like the idea of Bree being in the middle of this."

  Celeste stood. Until now she'd sat quietly, listening to Sean and Drew. "Bree knows what she's doing. She's had almost as much training as I have. She knows how to handle a terrorist threat."

  "I don't doubt that. But she doesn't know this is a terrorist threat. A crazy guy with a vendetta against one company isn't the same as terr
orists bent on bringing down the biggest democracy on the planet."

  "That's where you come in." Celeste's fingers on his forearm drew his gaze. "Drew, she'll be fine. You'll make sure she is. Remember that time in Fallujah? I wouldn't be here now if it weren’t for you."

  "That was different, and you know it. You knew what you were up against. Bree doesn't, and I can't tell her. Unless something has changed?"

  "Nothing," Sean confirmed. "This is a dark op. You'll be going in as a construction worker. No one but you, me and Celeste will know why you're there."

  "What am I supposed to tell Bree?"

  "She knows about our security business. It's legit. Tell her you're there to oversee the installation of the system. It's the truth, as far as it goes."

  Drew nodded. "That should work. Permission to brief her if the situation warrants?"

  "Of course," Celeste said. "We've cleared it with the FBI. She isn't to know unless you have no choice."

  "Okay. Get me over there. I have a bad feeling about this."

  "We do too. Bree's smart,” Celeste said. “She figured this out before the rest of us. The only factor is Cannon's terrorist connections. She didn't figure that in.”

  ****

  Bree managed to avoid Sean and Celeste for almost a week. Terry informed them of her arrival and said that his new assistant was working out fine. So when she saw them step onto the dock, she knew her luck had run out. She was going to have to face them. She'd had plenty of time to envision the encounter, and the one thing she knew for certain was she had to forget about Drew and deal with them on a professional level.

  "Mr. and Mrs. Callahan," she greeted them formally for the benefit of the other workers in the area. "Welcome to the island."

  "Hi, Bree." So much for maintaining the sham of being a regular employee of the construction company. Celeste enveloped her in a hug. Once Bree would have returned the gesture with warmth, but today she clasped Celeste in a weak embrace, barely managing not to push the other woman away.