She didn't move. "I think you can manage that on your own."
He had a sudden memory flash of a hot night, with Kate peeling his damp shirt off his body one inch at a time, her lips brushing each inch of skin she uncovered....
She'd been good at undressing him. She'd been good at everything.
He glanced over his shoulder to where she was still standing. She was also good at her job, he reminded himself. "I thought you'd be interested to hear what I learned from Armando Genero. Seeing as we're partners and have a lot to do," he added, giving her own words back to her.
She strode after him, falling into step as he resumed his progress down the pier. "What did you find out?"
"First of all, it's certain that the woman Armando met on the beach was Ursula Chambers. The police who met the launch showed him her photograph, and he positively identified it."
"So his mother was right."
"Ursula wanted him to take her to Tamir."
"That's just what we figured."
"Uh-huh. She practically seduced the poor kid to get him to agree. Promised him more of the same in payment."
"She would be short of cash by now, and her credit cards are at their limits, so that would be her only, uh, asset left to bargain with."
"Well, she used her assets effectively. Armando had agreed to meet her at sunset."
"Was she on the boat when it capsized?"
"No. Armando was the only one on board."
"Had he already taken Ursula to Tamir?"
"He hadn't had the chance. He had spent the day cleaning up the cat's cabin and finagling a way to buy some wine in preparation for what he'd thought would be a hot date. He was in a hurry to meet her and admitted he wasn't paying attention to the sailing conditions when he ran into trouble."
"Where was he supposed to meet her?"
"At the same beach where they met this morning."
"We have to alert the police," Kate said immediately. "They need to search the area."
"It's already being done. I radioed the information from the rescue launch."
"Oh. Good."
"I doubt Chambers would have hung around waiting if the kid was late."
"Probably not," she said. "At least we know she's still on the island."
"Yeah. Our mission isn't over yet." He looked at Kate. "And neither is our partnership. Sure you don't want to help me with my buttons?" "Sam..." He held up his hands. "Just checking."
♥ Scanned by Coral ♥
Chapter 6
Kate lowered her binoculars and turned her face to the sun, inhaling the scent of the ocean as she braced herself against the breeze. It had been too long since she'd sailed. Odd, when she thought about it, that someone who was in the Navy would think she didn't spend enough time on the water. Still, there was nothing like the crack of canvas and the hissing slap of waves on the hull to remind her why she loved the sea. "Can you take the wheel for a minute?" Sam asked. "It's my turn to check in."
She let her binoculars dangle from the strap around her neck, grasped the top of the cabin house to steady herself and made her way to the cockpit. This sloop had been volunteered for the mission by a retired Montebellan police captain. It was a nimble boat, responding superbly to each adjustment in their course as they navigated along the coast. Although it was equipped with an auxiliary motor, both she and Sam preferred to use the power of the wind.
Of course, they both knew this wasn't a pleasure trip. The surveillance net had been in place for almost a week now. Ursula Chambers hadn't yet been spotted despite the close scrutiny the undercover "fleet" had provided. When Sam had suggested that they direct from the front rather than from behind a desk today, Kate had been quick to agree.
Professionally, it was a good idea, but as far as her peace of mind was concerned, it was bad. She had found it difficult enough to ignore Sam when they'd been working together at the base. Hadn't she realized how much worse it would be when they were alone on a sailboat? Didn't she realize that sailing with Sam would evoke memories of their time together five years ago, when they'd been on another boat, another sea?
Or was that one of the reasons Sam had suggested this?
Those were questions that were better left unanswered, she decided. She took the wheel from Sam, her gaze following him as he went below.
Like the rest of the personnel who manned the fleet, neither of them was in uniform today. Sam wore a faded T-shirt with a beer logo and a pair of well-worn jeans. To a casual observer he would look like an ordinary man out for a sail.
No, not an ordinary man. Not with those broad shoulders and rangy muscles. Not with that air of determination around him. To Kate he looked good enough to make her palms sweat.
She curled her fingers more tightly around the smooth wooden spokes of the wheel and concentrated on keeping the boat on course.
They were following the eastern shoreline, skirting the edges of several established surveillance grids to verify the effectiveness of the search pattern. So far, they had been spotted by undercover police and Navy personnel at least two times in each grid. From the communications they'd heard on the radio frequency assigned to each area, they had been visually checked out and their progress tracked all morning. It was encouraging. Chambers was bound to make another attempt to leave the island soon, and this time they would be ready.
Sam was carrying two mugs when he emerged from the cabin. "Here," he said, holding one out to her. "I thought you might like some coffee."
"Thanks." She took a mug and eyed it cautiously. Sam liked his coffee strong enough for a spoon to stand up in. It had been an ongoing joke between them five years ago. He'd claimed he'd needed the caffeine boost to keep up with her, but they'd both known he hadn't needed any chemical help. In fact, he used to demonstrate his stamina delightfully each morning within minutes of awakening....
No, this excursion probably hadn't been a good idea at all. She took a tentative sip. To her surprise, the coffee was smooth and perfectly brewed. He had even remembered to add a teaspoon of sugar, just the way she liked it. She lifted her eyebrows. "This is good."
A corner of his mouth curled in a lopsided smile. "Didn't think I knew how, did you?"
"Well, I remember you prefer it stronger. I wasn't expecting you to, uh..."
"Compromise?"
"I didn't say that."
"But you seem surprised each time I do something reasonable." He tilted his head and regarded her closely. "Why is that, Kate?"
What could she say? That she believed he was too stubborn to change, too strong-willed to bend to someone else's point of view?
Well, she wasn't wrong. He was still the same man he'd been five years ago. The differences she was noticing lately were minor details. They couldn't mean anything.
"Did you hear any news when you checked in?" she asked.
"Mmm?"
"On the radio. I couldn't quite make out what was being said. Any developments?"
His smile faded. He shook his head. "Not really. Someone in sector three is keeping track of a slow-moving trawler, but other than that there's nothing."
"Chambers can't stay hidden forever. It's only a matter of time before she tries to escape the island again."
"Yeah." He looked at his mug for a moment, then drained it in two gulps. "I don't like waiting."
All right, that much hadn't changed. When Sam had wanted something, he'd always gone after it in a straight-ahead take-charge fashion. Sometimes he'd have her half naked before she could blink. Once they had been about to leave the motel room for dinner when he'd reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. His hand had lingered on her neck, then dropped to her shoulder and eased the strap of her sundress down her arm. The next thing she knew the dress had pooled at her feet and his shirt front was rubbing across her bare breasts.
They had ordered Chinese take-out later. Much later.
She sipped her coffee, hoping he didn't ask why her hand was shaking. "What was your last assignment lik
e?" she asked quickly.
"A lot dryer than this."
"What do you mean?"
"My team was doing advance reconnaissance. We spent three days in a desert hide."
"A hide?"
"A camouflaged hole in the dirt. Had to wait then, too."
"Were you successful?"
"Yes and no."
"How's that?"
"Well, we confirmed the supply route for the terrorist group we were sent to locate."
"That's good."
"Sure, but we also stumbled onto a village of goat herders."
"Goat herders?"
"Or, to put it more accurately, they stumbled onto us. An old woman chasing after a goat walked right over the hide. She spotted the hole where we'd extended the radio antenna and ended up eye to eye with me." He set down his empty mug and rubbed the back of his neck. "I knew she would raise the alarm if she got back to the village, but if she didn't go back, someone else would come looking for her."
"What did you do?"
"What else? We had to cut our losses and get out."
"Was it difficult?"
He looked at her. "Wouldn't have been, if the terrorists hadn't chosen that minute to come to escort their shipment of weapons."
"What happened?"
"We radioed for the chopper. Made it to the rendezvous with everyone still upright and a whopping twenty-five rounds of ammunition left among us, so it could have been worse."
"At least you weren't hurt."
He remained silent.
She frowned. "You weren't hurt, were you?"
"The bullet passed through."
Her mug dropped to the deck, coffee splashing over her shoes. "What!"
He paused, watching her carefully. "Now I know better than to think you might be worried about me, right, Kate?"
"How bad was it?" she demanded. "Was that why you were supposed to be on leave?"
"I never pay attention to doctors."
He hadn't really answered her question, she realized. "Sam!"
"It was just a flesh wound." He twisted to one side to pull up the edge of his T-shirt. "See for yourself."
She didn't even think about the impropriety of Sam pulling up his shirt, so intent was she on examining his injury. She focused on the skin on his side. There was a small puckered scab below one rib and a long, shallow red mark angling toward his armpit. The first was an entrance wound, the second was the gash where the bullet had torn its way out. "Oh, my God."
"It's almost healed, Kate."
"You never should have jumped into the water last week to help the Genero boy. You could have torn this open."
"I wasn't going to let the kid drown just because of this."
She touched her fingertips to his side. "Another few inches to the left and it would have hit your heart."
"Hey, another few to the right and it would have missed."
"How can you make light of it?"
"It's really no big deal." He paused. "But if you like, you can kiss it and make it better."
Her fingers trembled at his teasing words. She was standing so close. She had already breached the distance between them by touching him. It would be so easy to go further. All she had to do was lean down and she could press her lips to his taut, tanned skin. Rub her cheek across the washboard ridges of his abdomen. Savor the fresh tang of his scent the way she used to when they were lovers...
Slowly she raised her gaze to his. She recognized the expression in his eyes. It had nothing to do with duty. He looked at her mouth, a brief glance that she felt as clearly as a physical touch.
He'd been doing that more and more lately. A lingering look. A flip comment. Small, unmistakable signals to remind her that he was still interested.
She should tell him to stop, but they had worked together well for a week. Technically he was keeping his distance. He wasn't harassing her. How could she voice an objection without coming across as uptight and paranoid?
At least, that was the excuse she gave herself.
Let me know if you change your wind....
The words he'd uttered more than a week ago echoed teasingly. For a breathless instant she swayed toward him. Her fingers splayed over his side, soaking up his warmth, tingling at the strength that pulsed under her hand.
The radio in the cabin crackled, snapping her to her senses. She snatched her hand away and bent to retrieve her mug. "We'd better get back to work."
* * *
The black car glided smoothly through the palace gates. At the end of a curving cobblestone drive, the sun-bleached stone of the main structure rose from the surrounding greenery. The car eased to a stop in front of a gracefully arching marble portico. Instantly a young man in the black, white and gold royal livery appeared to open the door.
Kate and Sam were ushered past a pair of guards who flanked the palace entrance. She tried not to gawk as she walked inside, but it was impossible to remain unmoved by the splendor around her. Sam had been here before when he'd initially been assigned to this mission, but this was her first time inside the palace. The entrance foyer took her breath away, its marble floor reflecting stately pillars that stretched two stories to the roof. Sunlight streamed in from a hexagonal dome of glass in the center, illuminating the huge room with warm shafts of gold.
"Gets to you, doesn't it?" Sam asked. "All this wealth and power?"
She nodded. "It's beautiful, but it's a little intimidating."
"It's meant to be. The Sebastianis know what they're doing," he said wryly. "Ruling Montebello has been the family business for centuries."
"Some family business."
Sam lowered his voice. "You're not looking forward to this, are you?"
"Not really." Kate smoothed her skirt and checked that her cuffs were straight. "It would be different if we had some progress to report."
"Yeah. King Marcus seems like a reasonable man, though. He probably didn't order us here to chew us out."
"He has no reason to. We've done our best with what we have."
"That's right. But if they try to take us to the basement, I'm outta here."
"The basement?"
He winked. "The dungeons, remember?"
She gave him a nervous smile. She knew he was trying to ease her tension and she was grateful for his effort. "Very funny."
"Lieutenant Mulvaney, Lieutenant Coburn, if you would follow me, please? The king will see you in the solarium."
The speaker was a short man in his early sixties. His gray hair and salt and pepper mustache were neatly trimmed, his expression the blank politeness of someone who had spent his life as a servant. He led them past the grand staircase that rose majestically from the foyer. They progressed through a corridor, their footsteps echoing between rows of gilt-framed oil paintings of Sebastiani ancestors.
Eventually, the marble floor gave way to carpet and the splendor became less formal. It appeared to Kate as if they were leaving the public area of the palace and moving toward what must be the royal family's private quarters.
She couldn't understand why they were being shown here. If the king wanted a progress report, shouldn't they have been meeting in a more official setting?
Their escort halted in front of a set of ornately carved arched wooden doors. Voices drifted faintly from the other side, along with the fretful cries of.. .a baby.
Kate looked around quickly. No. There must be some mistake. This butler had brought them to the wrong room and—
The doors parted to reveal a blaze of sunshine. The far walls of the room were all windows. Long, lush cream-colored couches and chairs were arranged to take advantage of the view of the garden and the ocean beyond. It was a beautiful, airy room, as splendid as any of the others she'd glimpsed on their route through the palace, but this one was obviously designed for living.
Several people were gathered, including King Marcus and Queen Gwendolyn. No one had noticed Kate and Sam's arrival. Everyone's attention was focused on Prince Lucas as he awkwardly tried to comf
ort the baby who fussed in his arms.
Unconsciously, Kate lifted her hand to the place where her butterfly charm rested under her uniform. She would have preferred being reprimanded for her lack of progress. She didn't want to be here to witness this. It had nothing to do with her duty.
"Poor bastard," Sam muttered, dipping his head close to Kate's. "He still looks like he's been hit by a truck."
She and Sam were standing just inside the doors, but even from this distance Kate could see what Sam meant. Lucas's chiseled, aristocratic features were as tense as they had been a week ago when she'd seen him in the hospital. His dark hair lay in crooked furrows, as if he'd been raking it with his fingers. Although his shoes were polished and his pants were neatly pressed, his tailored shirt was misbuttoned.
"Fatherhood is going to take some adjustment for him," she said, keeping her voice low so they wouldn't be overheard. Still, considering the noise the baby was making, nothing short of a shout would be noticed. "Until this last year, when his plane crash and the business with Jessica happened, he was reputed to be a real playboy."
"He must have enjoyed his freedom."
"A lot of men do." She shifted her scrutiny to Sam, unable to stop the past from tangling with the present. "That's probably why he left, so he could live the life he'd planned." Like you, she added silently.
"Why would you assume that?" Sam asked. "I heard he had to leave. There were duties he had to attend to. He tried to contact Jessica but she wasn't at the ranch where they'd met. By the time he sent someone to look for her, it was too late."
"If he really cared, why didn't he try to find her sooner?" she challenged. "If he had, it might not have been too late."
"I wonder why Jessica didn't contact him when she discovered she was pregnant in the first place," Sam said. "She should have. He had a right to know."
"I disagree. He left her to deal with the situation on her own. Why should she tell him?"
"He still had a right to know he was going to become a father. If he'd known—"
"What? He would have gone back for her sooner? He would have ignored his duties just because of the baby?"
Under the King's Command Page 7