by Lee Taylor
Perhaps she was simply pretending to ignore him too. She had a devil of a time letting her mind and body relax with him sitting across the room from her.
“Are you afraid to come near me?” he asked. Evening was approaching. The shadows in the room had grown much longer in the past hour.
“No.” Vega closed her eyes and pretended to ignore him some more.
“Then why won’t you even step across the threshold into the room?”
Vega practiced a series of controlled breathing exercises before deciding to answer. “I can watch the front door, the back door, and you from this spot.”
“I don’t believe you.” He set the plate on the floor and leaned back against the wall. “I think you’re afraid of me.”
Vega rolled her eyes.
“Don’t misunderstand me, Vega. I don’t think you’re afraid I’ll overpower you and escape. I think you know I won’t. I think you now know I’m innocent, in fact.”
“It’s not up to me to determine your innocence, Grayson. That’s a job for the courts.”
“But you are afraid,” Grayson pressed on, undaunted. “You’re afraid you might want to kiss me again if you get too close.”
Of all the arrogant, testosterone flavored things to say. Vega walked out of the bungalow before he coaxed her anger into flaring again.
You would like to kiss him.
There was nothing wrong with feeling attracted to an intelligent, appealing man. Why shouldn’t she wonder how his arms would feel wrapped around her body? Why shouldn’t she want to snuggle up against his broad chest?
Those erotic dreams of hers, so vivid in her memories, didn’t help cool her thoughts. Nor did prowling the island. On the far side, she found a sandy beach that stretched out to a marshy flat. The rising tide lapped at the shallow shore. Far beyond, Vega could see the faint glow of whitecaps in the Atlantic Ocean. This island was truly a paradise. She could understand why Grayson would want to find refuge here.
A light breeze tickled her neck.
You’re a fool, Vega. How many times had her father warned that she’d screw up? That she’d be exactly where she was right now—in the middle of the biggest emotional mess of her life.
She held her father’s Glock. The cool metal felt flat, lifeless in her hand. His gun. His life. His dreams. This was all about him. Getting his gun back from Grayson—proving to her father that she was worthy to call it her own had consumed her. She never noticed how somewhere along the way of trying to become the son he’d never had, she’d completely lost herself.
You’re strong for a girl, were her father’s last words to her. For years, she struggled to improve her body and mind. Imagining that she could somehow get her father to revise those last words, so one day he could smile at her and say that she was strong. Period. No qualifier necessary.
This quest for a dead man’s approval had cost too much. Fiona’s life was far too steep a price. Besides, her father was dead. Gone.
Tears welled up in Vega’s eyes as she finally faced the truth. She’d hated every day on the police force. Got no satisfaction from a job where her only desire was to please another—to please an unappeasable father. At least with bounty hunting, she did find a certain satisfaction in helping others when they were feeling their most desperate. When she wasn’t pushing herself and wondering how she’d measure up in her father’s eyes, she actually enjoyed her work.
“And I’m damned good at it.” Her instincts had been right about Grayson. Nothing in Harper’s hidden files had mentioned him. They did however, point an accusing finger toward Whitfield. In hindsight, the facts of Harper’s murder appeared simple. Straight forward. Harper finds the files and questions Whitfield. Whitfield, scared of what might happen, orders Harper’s death and sets Grayson up to take the fall. Only Grayson doesn’t fall easily. His military training kicks in. He runs, looking to survive.
She should have seen it all along. Grayson’s determination rivaled hers. If she’d only followed her instincts and focused more time on figuring out why Grayson might want her to dig around Six-Star for him, Fiona would be safe right now. Damn it. If she hadn’t let echoes of her father’s discontent guide her, Fiona would never have been taken.
Vega blinked her tears away. It was past time to let go. Her father was dead. The past could not be changed. That child who longed to have her father playfully muss her hair and tell her how proud he felt would never find peace. She had to stop trying to fix the past and start living for the future.
The first step involved her father’s Glock. For years, that gun served as the very symbol of her father’s approval. If she weren’t about to face down Butch and Whitfield, she’d toss the damn weapon into the sea.
Yet, the protection that Glock could give her was necessary. Bullets and steel. She required nothing more from the gun. Years of struggle had made her strong, much stronger than that little child crying for a father to love her back. She didn’t need anyone’s approval to carry her. She could carry herself.
It was past time to take some risks and live.
She returned to the dock to check on the channel. The water there was still too shallow to float a boat. It would be a few more hours before she needed to worry about any threats coming from that direction, so she decided to return to the bungalow to face Grayson—and her future.
She found him standing beside the bed in the shadows with his back to her as he gazed out the window.
“Do you plan to leave me chained like a stag waiting to be fed to the lions?” He banged the handcuff against the cot’s frame.
“Perhaps.” She really hadn’t considered what to do with him yet.
He turned around. His white teeth gleamed in the twilight. He didn’t look too worried. In fact, the way he was smiling and looking at her with that heated stare, made Vega suspect he might be trying to seduce her.
“It won’t work.” She crossed the threshold and joined him in the bedroom.
“What won’t work?”
“You won’t seduce me.” She climbed onto the bed and stretched out her legs. It felt good to take a break.
“Wasn’t considering it,” he turned back to the window, “thought you might try to get me into bed.”
She propped a pillow against the cot’s metal frame and leaned back against it, making herself comfortable. “Did you now?”
“Admit it, Vega, you’re attracted to me.” He peeked at her with the most arrogant grin plastered on those edible lips of his. “I’ve never had a woman look at me with such lust before…it’s damned attractive.”
Of course, she was feeling some deep stirrings in her belly. Especially with his soft, brown gaze caressing her body like that. She laughed and shook her head. “For someone who claims he’s not even trying, you’re doing one hell of a job of seducing me.”
“Am I?” He worked his way onto the bed. Like Vega, he didn’t bother kicking off his sandy boots before kneeling on the mattress with his legs straddling hers. “I can’t kiss you with you way over there.” He tugged at the handcuffs holding him to the frame. “This is going to make everything difficult.”
“With all your skills, I suppose you’ll figure something out.” She enjoyed watching him struggle against the shackle while his eyes heated. She wasn’t about to give in too easily.
One broad hand grabbed her knee and gave a sharp tug, knocking her off the pillow. He inched her closer, working his way up her thigh, her waist, and her chest.
His hand lingered on her chest. Not touching anything sensual in particular. The flat of his palm just rested between her breasts, following the steady rise and fall of her breath.
No rush. No pressure. Like he intended to take his time, to orchestrate the encounter as if she was the one bound to the bed, not him.
When would he make his move? She felt as green and horny as if this were her first time with a man. She lay flat and still, waiting…afraid to spoil the magic.
His gaze trapped hers as his slow, even breathing pi
cked up its pace to match her much shallower rhythm. Each inhalation piqued her anticipation. Each exhalation melted her into the mattress. His hand still waited between her now throbbing breasts. The longer he refused to touch her the more her body ached.
This was nothing like making love with Butch or anyone else, for that matter. This was much, much more dangerous. She gripped the metal bed frame to keep from running.
“Unlock the handcuffs, Vega.” A demand.
“Not on your life.”
“I can’t do this properly with just one hand.”
“Try.”
Those handcuffs would serve her well. He couldn’t own her. Couldn’t possibly do to her what she was reading in his sex-clouded gaze, while half-bound to the bed.
“Didn’t say I couldn’t do it, just that it wouldn’t be proper.” He seemed to say more to himself than her. “I’ve been dreaming of this for far too long. There won’t be any rushing. Oh, no. I plan to savor you, Vega—savor every delectable inch.”
The cot creaked as he shifted his weight and inched forward so that his groin was balanced directly above hers. A sly smile spread on his lips. Lips that had not yet tried to kiss her, lips that taunted with teasing disinterest.
His hand stirred. Oh, he wasn’t lying about taking his blessed time. The movement wasn’t much more than a pressure change as his palm migrated lower, tantalizingly following the slender curves of her stomach muscles.
This was too much to endure. His hand didn’t follow the neat script weeks of erotic dreams had created. He didn’t go after what her body yearned for him to touch. Her hips rose with an instinctual need to guide him to that hot, wet place between her legs.
He didn’t obey. Damn him. Instead, he bunched up her tight, black t-shirt sliding it up to expose her breasts.
Though there was no heat in the bungalow, her taut nipples were about to ignite. Touch them already. She grabbed his hand and pressed his rough fingers to her breast. Her lips rushed up to meet his, giving her a taste of the cool night air lingering on them.
He guided her hand to touch the bulge straining his pants.
Control fled in the frenzied moments that followed. Vega graduated from acting the frightened virgin to playing the part of starving, insatiable wanton. She kissed him, licked his lips, and explored his enticing mouth with her tongue. He did the same, while squeezing her tingling breasts and teasing her nipples.
She reared up to curl her legs around his hips as he knelt on the bed. She wasn’t about to deny her needs now, not when her body was crying out for a release she hadn’t been able to find, not even in those heated dreams of hers.
Frantic, she dug into her pocket, produced a small, silver key, and held it out for him to take.
As the lock slipped open, she shivered. Sure, living life came with risks, but was she ready? Unlike sex with Butch, giving herself to Grayson could open her heart up to the kind of pain she’d spent a lifetime to avoid. With Grayson, she could fall in love.
“I hope this isn’t a mistake.”
“This can’t be a mistake,” he whispered the promise. His lips brushed against hers with such tenderness. Her concerns couldn’t help but fade.
He eased her pants down over her slender hips while she fumbled with the top button on his tight jeans. This was what she wanted. This was getting closer to the point in her dream when she’d wake up panting.
Please, don’t let me wake up.
He pushed her hands away so he could suckle her through the tiny pair of black lace panties she wore. The damp heat and pressure drove Vega wild. Her spinning head fell back onto the bed as she lost her mind in a deep sigh.
It took all her concentration to get her shirt over her head and onto the floor. The effort was worth it. She wanted to feel her flesh against him without the muffle of material.
Not even lace. While she shoved her panties out of the way, he stripped. It was a heady feeling knowing that finally she would get to see him, all of him. Not just look with her eyes. Vega intended to use her fingers, her legs, her mouth, and her entire body to explore the man touching her with a lover’s abandon.
Could this really be happening? He nibbled on her lower lip.
Should this be happening? Life had already dumped more onto her than she could handle right now. A voice of reason demanded she stop. To think about what she was doing. She didn’t need another emotional entanglement in her life.
His tongue moved against hers as he caressed a soft spot on her inner thigh, daringly close to her crotch. Her body shivered with arousal.
This was what she wanted.
She wanted all of him. She needed him. She didn’t care that she wasn’t in total control of his actions. For all the feelings rushing through her body, there was no room to worry about control. She was losing herself, feeling a freedom of letting go. For the first time she was trusting herself.
And giving.
Her hands caressed everywhere she could reach. The hard plains of his muscles tightened beneath her questing fingers. She dipped her head and took him in her mouth. His cock was rock hard and steamy hot, like a brand.
“My God, Vega,” he groaned and pulled away.
Who was this man aiming for her soul?
His strong fingers twined through her hair and, holding her head tight, he pulled her to his mouth. His lips closed over hers.
Kissing her, he guided her down onto the bed and pushed into her hard and fast. She curled her hands around the bed’s metal frame and pinched her eyes tightly closed, overwhelmed by how quickly and violently her body responded to his.
The cot squeaked. Through the thin mattress, she could feel the unevenness of the aging bedsprings. Strange sensations to notice when the peak was rushing up to her so quickly, she thought. It was a breathless experience as she bucked against him, riding his deep, urgent rhythm.
Instead of subsiding, her budding orgasm built. Hot erotic waves filled her body until she felt stretched to her limit.
She wrapped her arms and legs around him and held on for dear life as the frustrations and tensions she’d allowed to fester were forced out by the sheer power of his release.
In the quiet that followed, she heaved a deep sigh and went limp. The thoughts in her mind were new, fresh. The air she breathed tasted cleaner.
A glimmer of something terribly unsettling grew in the stillness. Being with Grayson felt like two halves ripped apart were finally coming back together. She stared at him, startled.
The same bewildered look was echoed in his soft brown gaze and slightly gaping mouth.
They were in deep trouble.
This was not the time to get mixed up with an accused murderer, even if evidence now made him look damned innocent. He was innocent. He was a man with a future that could include her…oh, shit.
This was one hell of a time to be entangling her head with emotional strings she never really trusted in the first place. Such feelings could make a hand hesitate, a mind rethink a decision. In all, those damn strings could get them both killed.
In the next several hours, she was about to face what could be the biggest challenge of her life. Hell, her sister’s life was at stake.
“We’ll talk about this later,” he said.
“Now definitely isn’t the time,” she agreed.
Chapter Twenty
Vega laid flat on her belly in the thick, prickly undergrowth beneath the trees near the boat landing. A creature with far too many legs squirmed beneath her shirt and began to slither down her back. Her skin crawled and her stomach churned in response to the creeping sensation. But that was just about all she could do about it at the moment.
Grayson was stretched out a few feet away. She could barely hear his steady breathing over the slosh of water against the shore and the growing whine of several motorboat engines. The boats approached in perfect darkness. Vega lowered a night vision monocle over her left eye. Through the green haze, she watched two boats racing down the tidal creek. The drivers, and several m
en with submachine guns poised on the crook of their arm, all had night vision goggles strapped over their eyes.
“There’s eight people on two boats,” Vega whispered to Grayson, who without the night vision glass wouldn’t be able to make out that much detail yet. “Perhaps nine. Six of them look like your company’s security force.”
She didn’t tell him that she could clearly make out Butch’s large profile and cowboy hat.
“Can you see what kind of firepower they have?” Grayson asked.
“At least four sub-machine…can’t tell the make…two rifles.” The person seated in the second boat looked like Fiona. Vega didn’t allow herself to garner too much hope though. Butch had no reason to bring Fiona here with him. No reason at all.
“We can assume they each have handguns and knives too,” Grayson said. The dry way he added that, like he was counting weapons, sounded like he was putting a plan together in his head. Vega was glad for that. He had the military training and experience. She didn’t.
He turned his head to face her. She didn’t see him move but heard the leaves rustle and a branch snap. “I want you to get that boat out of the shed and get out of here. The water’s high enough now. You can launch from the beach.”
“Not a chance.” Vega wouldn’t consider the suggestion.
“Let me handle this. Those are men employed by Six-Star to come after me. This isn’t your war.”
“You can forget it. If you get killed, I don’t get paid.” But that wasn’t the reason she was staying. Butch had Fiona, so she needed to get her hands on Butch. Besides, she’d do whatever she could to keep Grayson from getting hurt.
The boats slowed as they drew closer to the island. Vega knew how the drivers were feeling. Just that morning she’d been the sitting duck. The men with the submachine guns and night vision goggles moved to the edge of the two boats and scanned the forest. The small bushes and vines entangled all around Vega and Grayson provided sufficient cover. They didn’t have to worry about being discovered yet.