“Everything.”
Her warming amber eyes found his over her shoulder. “Everything?”
“Yes.”
The way she smiled at him, her face angled to see him, her eyes alight with affection, made him want to kiss her.
When he saw Imaad step into the salon, Elam gave Farren’s hand a tug. She twirled toward him just the way he’d intended. Catching her around her waist, he pulled her against him.
“Keep smiling at me like that and I’m taking you back to the yacht,” he said.
Her eyes sprang wide and round and her mouth dropped open in alarm.
“Play along,” he said low enough for only her to hear.
He heard her faltering breaths but her eyes relaxed a little. “What’s wrong?”
“Maybe nothing, but I need to be sure.”
She slid her hands up his chest and folded them behind his neck. He fought the flaring heat running through him.
She tilted her head back, putting her mouth under his. Whether or not she intended it to be an offer, he took it as one and kissed her. Feeling her stiffen in his arms, he knew she hadn’t. Slanting his mouth over hers, he moved his lips against hers, coaxing until she softened and let him inside.
He kept it brief. Any more and he’d be lost in her. He lifted his head and smiled down at her startled look.
Imaad had moved closer, feigning interest in a painting hanging on the wall to Elam’s right.
Farren noticed and leaned back a little, her hands sliding down to his chest.
“Is this your first time in Marmaris?” Imaad asked, his English disturbingly good.
Elam felt Farren’s fingers dig into his chest. “Yes. You?”
“Yes.” His gaze shifted to Farren. “It is the perfect setting for a…shall we say…rendezvous?”
Elam released Farren to turn and face Imaad fully. “I hear there’s quite a nightlife, too.”
“I prefer the food, myself.”
Elam wondered if there was a point to this small talk.
“You are from the United States, yes?” Imaad asked.
“Yes, we both are,” Elam said.
“You are traveling together?”
“We met in Bodrum.”
“At the Castle of St. Peter,” Farren said.
Elam beamed with admiration for her quick aplomb. Imaad looked from her to him.
“What brings you to Marmaris?” Elam asked.
Imaad’s gaze moved back to Farren. “I came to attend to business.”
“What kind of business?”
The way Imaad kept looking at Farren suggested she knew what kind of business.
Without responding, he removed a business card and handed it to Farren. She took it from him.
“I will give you until morning.” Then he turned and walked away, leaving the salon.
“That’s him,” Farren said, catching her breath. “He’s the one who called me.”
“That’s Imaad.” He read the card. Three million, it said. Wire instructions followed.
He grunted. “It isn’t going to be that easy, pal.”
“What are we going to do?” Farren asked.
He didn’t like her frightened look. A woman like her should never have a look like that. “Let’s go back to the yacht.” Taking her hand, he led her off the show yacht. Outside, he searched around him, doing so surreptitiously in case someone watched.
He didn’t see Imaad. He did, however, see someone else. A shorter man, just as thin with a trimmed beard. He wore white slacks with a light blue shirt, but his mannerisms gave him away.
Reaching the marina, Elam looked back. The man still followed, but stopped when they reached the dock leading to Rapture.
“Hello, down there,” a voice called out.
Elam saw it was the woman they’d passed earlier. She still wore her suit and held a fresh glass of champagne, dark red lipstick marking where she sipped.
“I’m having a few guests for a little sun and hors d’oeuvres. Why don’t you invite your captain and stop by in about an hour or two?”
Elam smiled. “Thanks. I think we’ll take you up on that.” He didn’t see much happening the rest of the day anyway. Not unless Imaad and his men made a move before morning, but the rest of his team would be watching. Besides, the idea of spending the rest of the afternoon with Farren appealed to him. Maybe too much.
“Wear a swimsuit if you want,” the brunette called as they passed.
Elam waved.
Haley and Travis were waiting for them when they returned. Climbing the stairs to the flybridge, where they had a view of the entire marina, Farren sat on a bar stool and swiveled to face the other three.
“We’re being watched,” Elam said.
“So is the congressman’s yacht,” Travis responded. “Spotted a couple of men casing it. Been doing it for about an hour now.”
“Maybe he’s the reason they planned to come here,” Elam suggested.
“Killing a Catholic congressman who’s an outspoken critic of terrorism?” Farren nodded. “That’d make the news.”
“There’s that,” Elam said. “And there’s his involvement with Carolyn. She knew something and Imaad doesn’t want anyone finding out what it is.”
“We’ve got to get Shay talking. Does he even know the danger he’s in?” Haley looked from Elam to Travis.
“Too bad Carolyn can’t talk to us from her grave,” Elam said.
“So, the question still remains. Why was she coming to Marmaris to meet Shay?”
“We’ll get our answers,” Elam said. “In the meantime, Farren and I were invited to an afternoon cocktail party aboard the yacht just down the dock from here.” He faced Travis. “The host specifically requested your presence.”
Travis frowned and his gaze shifted to Haley, who met it with a derisive frown of her own.
“He’s been watching her with the binoculars,” she said.
“I have not.”
“I can tell when they’re too low to be trained on Shay’s yacht.”
He didn’t respond and Haley pivoted. “Go ahead, enjoy yourself. The rest of us will stay here and work.”
“I’ll go, but only to keep up appearances.”
“Yeah, right.”
Farren changed into her lime-green swimsuit and lamented that she hadn’t packed any full-piece suits. Her breasts were too big. They were full and round and her cleavage was way too pronounced. For Elam.
Tying a pink sarong splashed with lime-green martini glasses around her waist, she left her hair down and put a light coat of gloss on her lips. Not for Elam. It wasn’t. But a tiny voice persisted in her head. It was for him.
Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her sunglasses and left the cabin.
In the salon, Elam and Travis waited. They both wore swim trunks and leather sandals and nothing else. Farren couldn’t keep her eyes from drinking in the sight of Elam’s chest, lightly covered in hair that gathered in a dark line that trailed down to the waistband of his trunks. His legs were long and muscular, but not so much that it ruined his streamlined physique.
Seeing Travis and Haley notice her gaze, she directed her attention away from Elam. “Let’s go.”
She marched out the door onto the aft deck and then onto the dock, slipping her sunglasses over her eyes just as Elam came in step beside her. Travis walked behind them.
“Helllllo, down there!”¥
Farren inwardly cringed at the polished woman waving her hand on the aft deck of her glorious yacht. Exotic instrumental music played, soft drums and piano and flute lilting.
She climbed aboard first. A servant appeared with a tray of champagne glasses. She took one.
Four women had chartered the yacht. Two thirtysomething women and their gray-haired mothers. All four were single. One mother was divorced and the other widowed. The brunette, Beverly, or Bev, as everyone called her, was divorced and the redhead, Sara, had never married.
Bev zeroed in on Travis, her eyes gobbling up
the sight of him as she went to him. She hugged him longer than was appropriate. Farren watched him give her a flirtatious grin and heard him thank her for inviting him.
“Why do all men do that?” Farren asked.
“Do what?”
“Respond to any woman who shows sexual interest?”
He looked at Travis and Bev. “Because he wants to have sex?”
Farren grunted. “Except you. You seem immune to women who show sexual interest.”
He turned his head toward her. “Are you referring to the other night?”
She shrugged. Maybe it wasn’t wise to rehash this. She was still embarrassed.
“Don’t mistake courtesy for immunity.”
“Courtesy?” How appalling! “You were being courteous by refusing me?”
“Tell me you wouldn’t have regretted it.”
She opened her mouth to do just that but stopped. It was true. She would have regretted it. She didn’t trust him to be there for her in the long run. And more than that, she was tired of putting her heart on a platter for men. It was the desperate act she’d have regretted. Just because a man wanted her didn’t mean he wanted her heart, too.
“See?” Elam said when she didn’t answer.
“Would you have regretted it?” she asked.
His smug smile vanished.
“Would you have?” She wasn’t going to let him get by without answering.
“No.”
“What about it wouldn’t you have regretted?”
“Why do women always have to pick things apart like that?”
“Just tell me.”
“Sex.”
“That’s it?”
“What else would there have been?”
She felt her jaw drop as a weighty emotion pulled her mood down. “Right. What else could there have been?” She started to leave the salon. What else could there have been about her that he liked? She was good enough for sex but nothing more. The everything he’d claimed wasn’t boring about her must only include things that pointed to sex.
On the aft deck, Elam grasped her arm just above her elbow and stopped her. She avoided looking at him as he tugged her to face him, keeping her hands at her sides and standing rigid.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said.
“I want to go back to our yacht.” She refused to call it Rapture right now.
He let go of her arm and lifted his hand to her chin, cupping it and gently drawing her face so she had to look at him. His eyes were soft with meaning, and apology.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he repeated.
She didn’t trust herself to say anything. Desperation might make her believe him.
“I did want sex, but the reason I refused you is because I was afraid it would have been more than that and maybe you wouldn’t have felt the same in the morning. That maybe you wouldn’t have felt the same about this.”
Still holding her chin, he pressed his mouth to hers. Farren sucked in a full breath. She hadn’t seen this coming. He kissed her so softly. She stood immobile as sensation overwhelmed her. He tasted her. His warm lips moved over hers, taking her lower lip between his, running his tongue over what he’d captured. She opened her mouth with a breathless sound. His hand slid to the back of her head and he kissed her with more purpose. Shivery moments passed.
Then, slowly, he pulled back. His hand slid from her chin and he looked into her eyes.
“Maybe I was wrong,” he said, and everything in her heart careened out of control.
It scared her. This was starting to mean too much. Backing away, she turned and stepped onto the dock, hurrying ahead toward Rapture.
Chapter 7
The next morning, Farren left her cabin tucked securely in a robe. She hated getting dressed right after climbing out of bed. She liked to have coffee and relax first.
Maybe I was wrong.
She’d thought about what Elam had said and done well into the night. But this morning she’d assured herself that no amount of charm would sway her into sleeping with him. Not when she didn’t trust him to stay when this was all over.
She emerged into the salon and saw a rumpled blanket and pillow on the couch. Voices carried from the galley. Farren moved around the wall and entered.
Haley sat with a half-eaten bowl of cereal in front of her. Elam sat beside her, a cup of coffee steaming in front of him. His chocolate hair was messy and his light blue eyes a little sleepy, but they brightened when he saw her. It sent a shock wave of awareness through her. She was no longer so sure about being immune to his charm. What if he kissed her again?
“Keenan’s up on the flybridge keeping watch since Travis decided to take the night off. Breakfast is on your own this morning,” Haley said irritably.
After getting herself a cup of coffee, Farren brought a bowl of cereal to the table. Elam pulled back the chair next to him, giving her room to sit. She hesitated, seeing the hooded look of desire stewing in his eyes. When he flashed her a challenging grin, she sat and busied herself eating cereal.
Amazing how he managed to distract her from Imaad’s looming threat. The glass door in the salon was visible from the table in the gallery and Farren caught sight of Travis on the aft deck. He entered the blue and gold furnished salon. He wore different clothes than last night, so if he spent the night on Bev’s yacht, he’d changed before breakfast. His dark hair was messier than Elam’s but his eyes looked rested. Maybe sated was a better word.
Farren noticed Haley stiffen and her eyes grow angry as Travis entered the galley. He met her gaze and seemed a little uncomfortable.
“Good morning,” Haley said, all but singing the word morning.
“Morning.” Travis went to the coffeemaker and poured himself a cup.
“Late night, huh?” Elam teased.
Farren elbowed him and he grunted.
Travis brought his cup to the table and looked at Elam, then slowly shifted his gaze over to Haley.
She pushed her spoon around in her bowl of soggy cereal.
“I wasn’t aware that I was supposed to be back at a certain time,” Travis said.
Haley lifted her eyes and sent him an injured, angry look. “Keenan is up in the flybridge.”
“So?”
“So, he’s supposed to be chef, not your cover whenever you decide to start thinking with your dick.”
Travis leaned back on the chair and stared at her. He seemed surprised by her outburst. So was Farren. She’d picked up on some undercurrents between them, but so far their relationship appeared only professional. Granted, she’d seen them flirt, but Haley was always so guarded. She’d given Travis no reason to think she wanted more from him.
“You’re upset,” Travis said.
“You should have been here doing your job so Keenan could do his.”
“You’re pissed because Keenan didn’t cook breakfast this morning?”
Haley jerked her head down, but not before Farren caught a glimpse of moisture springing to her eyes. Travis saw it, too. He reached over and covered her hand with his. “Hey.”
She pulled her hand away. At last she looked up, her eyes pooling now. “It must be so nice for you.”
“What must be nice?”
“For it to be so easy.”
“What? What’s wrong, Haley?”
“It’s so easy for you to…” A tear slipped over her lid.
“Haley…”
“Don’t bother.” She pushed her chair back, the sound of her sob reaching the table as she ran below deck.
With a stunned expression, Travis looked from Farren to Elam.
“What was that all about?” Farren asked.
“I don’t know.”
“She’s been through a lot,” Elam said.
“Like what? What happened to her?” Farren asked.
Travis met her gaze. “Five years ago, she was captured in Iraq. She doesn’t remember what happened. She only remembers being taken and beaten. She claims she lost consciousness
, but…the doctors say they think her mind has blocked the worst of what happened.”
It must have been so horrible that now she had trouble with intimacy. Farren’s heart cried out in sympathy. “You hurt her by sleeping with that woman.”
“I didn’t sleep with her. I was out late, but I came back here. Not that it would have mattered anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
“Haley and I aren’t a couple. We never can be. I don’t understand why she’s so upset about the idea of me sleeping with someone else.”
“Why can’t you be a couple?” What was it with these men?
“She needs someone…different from me. Someone who doesn’t scare her.”
“You don’t scare her.”
“She’s my teammate,” he said, too quickly. It revealed his real feelings. He wanted more with Haley; he was just afraid of frightening her. “I don’t get personal with teammates. Haley has issues she needs to work out, and I’m not the guy who can help her. I’d only make it worse.”
“Why are you so protective of her, then?”
Travis raked his fingers into his hair and held his head. At last he lowered his hands to the table and looked at Farren. “I don’t want her to get hurt again.”
“Well, I think you gave her the wrong idea by going to Bev’s yacht.”
“I didn’t mean to. I did it for appearances. That’s all. A single captain wouldn’t come to a festival like this and stay holed up on his yacht with a pair of binoculars.” He pushed his chair back and stood. Leaving the galley, he went after Haley.
Farren realized how much she was talking and stopped. Elam sat across from her, relaxed in his chair on the stone patio of the Caria Restaurant. He’d lured her out with the promise of an afternoon of shopping. Wasn’t he afraid of what Imaad would do when they didn’t do as instructed? No, of course not, but she was.
They’d come here first for a grilled fish lunch and a view of the harbor. With his elbow on the arm of the wicker chair, his forefinger and thumb held his chin and his eyes twinkled with amusement.
“Sorry,” she said.
He just continued to look at her.
Feigning nonchalance, she brushed the front of her rust-colored cotton sundress as though there were crumbs there and then looked around the outdoor patio. Colorful flags hung from the second story of the building. Double doors and a window on the first level were open. People filled long rows of cloth-covered tables. Talking surrounded her. She didn’t see Imaad anywhere.
Heiress Under Fire Page 10