by Roz Lee
"Hi, Celeste. Sean."
"Can we talk to you for a minute?" Celeste asked.
"Sure. We can use Terry's office."
"How are things going?" Sean said as he closed the door behind him.
"Slow. I've checked out the employees of the construction company. They all have squeaky-clean resumes and credentials. I don't think any of them have any reason to be an accomplice in whatever Cannon is planning."
"That's what we thought, too," Celeste said. "But it never hurts to have someone else look, just in case we missed something. Which brings me to the reason we're here."
A knot formed in Bree's gut. She didn't like what Celeste's statement implied. "Why are you here? I know I should have waited for you to come over with me, but Terry knew I was coming, and I was anxious to get started."
"You know we were only going to come along to make things easier for you. You don't need us to hold your hand," Celeste assured her.
"So, what is this about?"
"Drew is with us," Sean said. Her heart sank to her toes, and her stomach pitched like a dingy in a hurricane. "Officially, he's here to oversee the installation of the security system. Unofficially, he's here to be another set of eyes for you."
Her silence prompted Celeste to speak. "This isn't about your ability to do your job, Bree. It's about having backup. We know the Bureau didn't send anyone else. It's only you, and Vernon Cannon may be old, but he's dangerous. Honestly? I can't countenance the Bureau sending you to do this alone. It goes against every policy they have."
She was right. Bree knew it. She'd had to beg her superior to allow her this time, but she hadn't convinced anyone her theory was a good one. The truth was, they didn't really believe Cannon would show up on the island. If they did, they wouldn't have let her come alone. "You're right. The profilers agree that Cannon will probably take matters into his own hands, but they weren't convinced he'd target the new resort. They think he's still fixated on the ship. That's why they sent two agents to replace me on the Lothario while I'm here." She was glad Sean and Celeste agreed with her, and they'd brought her some help. She just wished to everything holy the help wasn't Drew Whitcomb. "Thanks for believing in me. And thanks for loaning me Drew. How long will he be here?"
"As long as it takes," Sean said.
Bree nodded, letting the reality set in. She'd be virtually marooned on an island with Drew for the foreseeable future. It was a dream come true, and a nightmare. She'd managed to push away her thoughts of Drew naked with these two people, doing heaven only knew what, but now that their business discussion was over, the thoughts and images flooded back in. She turned to look out the window as a flush crept from her core all the way to her hairline. "That's good."
A door opened and closed and she turned toward the sound. Drew stood across the room. His eyes skimmed her from head to toe, and an old familiar warmth sparked inside her. "Bree." His voice whipped the flame into a conflagration faster than a forest fire whipped by Santa Ana winds.
Chapter Thirteen
"Drew. How was Miami?" Bree might be dying, but this group didn't have to know it.
"Hot. Humid. It's good to be back."
"Thanks for coming. Sean and Celeste filled me in. I understand you have a real job to do here, overseeing the installation of the security system, so I won't bother you unless I need you… er, need your help."
Drew's lips spread into a knowing smile, and Sean cleared his throat at her guffaw. Celeste giggled. Christ. Bree didn't know the woman knew how to giggle.
"I'm here for you, darlin'. All you have to do is say the word, and I'll come." His thick Southern accent made the double entendre clear. How could he make a suggestive remark like that in front of his lovers? Sean and Celeste didn't act as if it bothered them that Drew was coming on to another woman. In fact, they seemed highly amused by the whole thing.
"I think that's our cue to leave," Celeste said. "Good luck, you two." She gave Bree another hug and kissed Drew on the cheek. Sean gave them both a half-hearted salute before ushering his wife out the door.
Drew stepped closer. Bree stepped back.
"You look good,” he said. “You've gotten some sun since you've been here."
"Hard not to." She forced her feet to move, edging behind Terry's desk. As if a piece of furniture would be a sufficient barrier between her and Drew.
"What's wrong? I thought we had an understanding when I left?"
So, she wasn't any good at hiding her feelings. Either that or Drew knew her too well. She was afraid it was a little of both. "That was before I had all the facts."
The muscles in his face froze into a hard mask, and his eyes drilled her with an assessing look. "What facts?"
Might as well get it over with. Let him know she wasn't going to be his plaything on the side. "That you spend a lot of time in bed with Sean and Celeste."
She didn't think Drew could have looked more menacing, but somehow he managed it. She suddenly wished Terry's desk was a wall of granite instead of cheap metal and laminated particle board.
"Who told you that?"
"Does it matter? It's true, isn't it?"
"No. It's not true."
"I expected you to deny it, but you've been on the island with them at least once a month, even while we were…"
"And you think I was fucking both of them?"
"Not both. Just Celeste. But I think Sean was there too. I have to admit, it surprised me. I didn't take Sean for the kind of man who shares."
"He isn't."
"That's not what I heard."
"You heard wrong."
"Then tell me the truth. Tell me what you were doing with them on the island."
"They're my friends and business partners, Bree. I like them. We spent a lot of years together, in a lot of dangerous situations. I owe my life to both of them, several times over."
"Is that all it is? Friendship?" A muscle ticked in his jaw, and she knew she'd hit a nerve. He was keeping something from her.
"No. It's more than friendship, but I can't explain it to you."
"Can't, or won't?"
"Can't, won't. What's the difference?"
"Trust."
Something sparked in his eyes, but he banked it quickly. "Bree. One of these days we'll talk about my relationship with Sean and Celeste, but not today. I'm here to help you, and I thought we had something. You and me."
She died a little inside as he evaded the issue of trust. "You thought wrong."
He seemed to deflate right before her eyes, but she wasn't going to let him get to her. "Okay then. I'm here if you need me."
She stood, frozen in the Caribbean heat, long after he'd left.
****
Shit.
Drew stalked down the well-worn path to the dock. He caught up with his friends as they prepared to return to Ryan's house on the adjacent island. "I need to tell Bree."
"Whoa." Sean straightened from where he'd been unlashing the bowline from the dock. "We agreed she didn't need to know."
"We were wrong."
Sean stepped aside, and with a sweep of his arm, invited Drew to come aboard. "What's going on?" he asked as Drew gained his footing on the deck of the fishing boat they used for both recreation and transportation between the islands.
Celeste poked her head up through the hatch that led to the living quarters. "What are you doing here?"
"Can we go below? We need to talk." It didn't escape him that the three of them going below together would only add fuel to the rumors Bree had told him about, if anyone were to see.
"Sure. Sean?" Celeste deferred to her husband. Sean waved her below with an impatient hand. Drew followed close, with Sean on his heels.
"Why should we tell Bree?" Sean asked before his head cleared the short opening.
"Do you have any idea what kind of rumors are circulating on the Lothario about us?"
"What do you mean by 'us'?" Celeste asked.
"I mean, the three of us." Drew swirled a finger in the
air to encompass the small group. "Bree thinks I'm fucking both of you!"
Celeste gasped at his outburst. Sean laughed. "Really?" A grin split his face.
"Look, you dirt-eating fucker, she thinks I've been rolling in the sheets with the two of you, and unless you tell me different, I have to let her keep on believing it." He speared the fingers of one hand through his hair, clamping down on his skull before it exploded. "Shit. I don't care what everyone else thinks, but Bree? That's unacceptable."
"Sit down, Drew." Celeste patted the spot next to her on the bunk. "I'm not wild about people thinking I'm part of a ménage, but until this is over, I don't see we have much choice."
"We have a choice. We have to tell Bree the truth." He directed his argument to Sean, the one person with the authority to grant him what he wanted.
"And what happens if we let her continue thinking this? Will it affect your mission in any way?"
"Hell, yes! She thinks I'm a pervert or something. She probably wouldn't ask for my help if Cannon tied her feet to a dirty bomb and threatened to drop her from an airplane." Her words came back to him. Can't or won't? Trust. "I need her to trust me."
Silence fell in the cabin. Sean tucked his fingers in the front pockets of his cargo shorts and lounged nonchalantly against the built-in cabinets across from Drew. He'd seen that look hundreds of times, could almost hear the wheels turning as Sean worked out the pros and cons of telling Bree.
Drew held his breath, making his own decision regardless of what Sean said. "I'm telling her. That's it."
"Do you think it's wise?" Celeste asked.
"I don't give a shit. I won't let her go on thinking I've been cheating on her with the two of you."
"Maybe there's a compromise here," Sean said.
"Like what?"
"Maybe if Celeste spoke to her, told her what the two of you once had is over. She wouldn't have to confirm or deny your past relationship, just make it clear that it's over. Kaput."
"That could work, Drew." Celeste jumped to her feet, ready to carry out her next mission.
"Maybe. It still doesn't address the trust issue. She thinks I've been lying to her, and I have, just not about what she thinks. Fuck. No matter what I do, I'm screwed."
"She means that much to you?" Sean asked.
Did she? He couldn't get her out of his mind. When he was away from her, he constantly wondered what she was doing. Wondered if she was having fun, or if she'd moved on and left him behind. The latter possibility scared the shit out of him. When this was over, he wasn't letting her out of his sight for the rest of their lives. "Yeah, she does." He nodded. There was no hope for it. "I love her."
Silence descended on the cabin again. Drew had to admit, it was a hell of a time to blurt out something like that. He should have told Bree first. She deserved that much. She deserved the truth.
"Let me talk to her." Celeste's gaze traveled between Drew and Sean. "If I can't get her to at least believe this supposed threesome is over, then we'll consider telling her everything. How's that?"
"I can live with that," Sean said. "Drew?"
It wasn't the full disclosure he was hoping for, but it would have to do. He knew better than to try to budge Sean off a course of action once he'd committed to it. That he'd gotten this much out of him was a coup. "Yeah, we can give it a try." He turned to Celeste. "Don't screw this up."
"I won't. I promise. I'll have a girl-to-girl talk with her. I'm good at evading when I have to, so leave it to me. I'll go in there, tell her we're through, and have been for a long time. It's the truth. I'll leave the details about how long to you." She glanced at Sean. "Is that okay with you? We'll let Drew be the one to give Bree the details, when and if he deems it necessary?"
"Just as long as the telling doesn't compromise the mission."
"It won't." Celeste looked at Drew for confirmation.
"It won't," he promised.
****
Bree didn't try to hide her surprise when Celeste joined her in the line of workers waiting to fill their plates from the al fresco buffet set out for their mid-day meal. "I thought you'd left."
"I wanted to talk to you, privately."
They inched closer to the buffet. She hoped Drew hadn't told Celeste what she'd said, but they were close. Lovers close. "About?"
"Why don't we get something to eat and find a quiet place."
It wasn't a question. And since Bree's presence on the island was dependent on the cooperation of the owners and their representatives, she had no choice but to go along. She pushed the food around on her plate. She'd lost her appetite the moment she'd noticed Celeste in line behind her. They'd once been partners and friends, but with what she knew now, she could barely stand the sight of the woman.
"Bree, I want you to listen carefully. I know you've heard some rumors, and I want you to know that whatever I—we, Sean and I—had with Drew, it’s over. It has been for a long time."
Her gut twisted. Here was the confirmation that there was, or had been, something going on between the three of them. "How long?"
"That's for Drew to tell you, when he decides the time is right. I just wanted you to know. I think the world of Drew. He's a special man, in more ways than you know. Trust me, Bree. You can't believe everything you hear. There's a grain of truth in all rumors, but I can assure you, in this case it's a microscopic grain."
Bree tore the flour tortilla on her plate into long strips, then tore the strips into confetti. Her heart wanted to believe Celeste. But Drew hadn't denied the rumors, and if you listened close, Celeste wasn't denying them either. "What part is true?"
"I can't tell you. No, that isn't exactly true. I won't tell you. I think that's between you and Drew. He loves you, Bree."
She really was going to be sick. Hearing those words from Drew's other lover felt wrong. Not that she believed them anyway. "No, he doesn't. He loves you. He always has."
"That might have been true once. Perhaps it's still true, but I can assure you he's never loved me the way he loves you. I've known him a long time, Bree. Longer than I've known you, and I've trusted him with my life on numerous occasions. I'd still trust him with my life, and he'd do the same with me. But his heart was never really mine, and I've never had room in my heart for him in the way you think. I love Sean. Always have. Always will. That doesn't mean I don't love Drew. I do. But what little we had together is over."
"You aren't going to tell me what you had with Drew?"
"No. That's between you and Drew. I will say, when he decides it's the right time to tell you, remember the kind of work we did together. And put yourself in my place."
Having delivered her cryptic message, Celeste left without another word. Bree stared at the mess she'd made of her plate, knowing she'd made a bigger mess of her life. Did Drew love her? She thought back over the years she'd worked with Celeste at the FBI. The woman was an excellent agent, and she was quick to credit Sean and Drew with teaching her everything she knew. Bree had never had any reason to doubt Celeste's word. So could she now?
What was she going to do about Drew? Could she believe him? Why hadn't he simply told her this himself, rather than asking his lover—former lover?—to do the job for him? The more she thought about it, she was all the more convinced they were both telling her only part of the truth. Why was a question she didn't know if she could get around.
It all came back to trust. There was something neither Celeste nor Drew felt they could trust her with.
The hell with them. The hell with them all. She had a job to do. Apparently, neither one of them trusted her to do that either. Why else would Drew be here, but to babysit her? She was too smart to ignore the benefit of having a man with Drew's talents around in a dangerous situation, but that didn't mean she was going to use him. Not in any way. No matter what her body said to the contrary.
The sooner she finished this job and moved on to something bigger, the sooner she could find a man who would trust her with everything.
****<
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Two fucking days. He'd been on the island for forty-eight hours, and Bree hadn't said a single goddamned word to him. So much for Celeste's girl talk. As far as he could see, it hadn't made a damned bit of difference. Bree still treated him like a walking STD, and there wasn't a thing he could do about it. Celeste hadn't clued him in on what she told Bree. When he'd asked, she told him to ask Bree.
Yeah. Like that was going to happen.
He doubled-checked the wiring for the master system and pronounced it ready to go. What did he know about wiring? The crew would be installing the cameras in the main building next, and after that, the sensors around the island that would report human activity in places people weren't supposed to be. Protecting the power plant and the water supply were high priority. Without those, the guests and employees would be at risk.
Drew took the path toward the power plant. At least he enjoyed this part of his “real” job. Thinking like a man bent on mayhem and destruction kept his mind sharp. If he wanted to control a whole resort, how would he go about it? He checked the plans he'd brought along against the actual installation, noted a few spots he thought might still be vulnerable, wrote suggestions in the margins. Richard and Ryan had given them an open checkbook for the security system, and they were going to get the best he could provide for their money.
Instead of the path back to the resort, Drew turned toward Richard's house, situated on a rise in the center of the island. They hadn't begun the changes to the master bedroom suite yet, but it wouldn't hurt to have a firsthand look at how the new construction would affect the security system. Sometimes it was easier to spot the problems looking at the actual property, rather than the blueprints.
A shadow of movement behind one of the windows had him diving for cover near the end of the path. So far as he knew, no one was supposed to be at the house. He'd left Richard and Fallon in Miami a few days ago, and they had no plans to return to the island until the resort opened. Of all the construction projects on their list—the new resort, the two cabins on the Lothario, Ryan and Richard's houses—Richard's house was last on the list for renovation. However, someone was in the house, and they weren't even trying to be discreet. He crept along, out of sight from the windows as he approached the house. The front door stood open, and he eased inside. A door opened down the main hallway leading to the bedrooms, and Drew followed the sound. He'd gotten out of the habit of carrying a weapon aboard the Lothario, but Sean had provided him with a small arsenal for this assignment. He had a handgun in a holster strapped to one ankle, and a knife strapped to the other. The weight of the gun felt like an extension of his hand as he made his way to the back of the house on silent feet.