Under the King's Command

by Ingrid Weaver

  And to be honest, he'd wanted to see Kate smile. He knew how much she loved sailing. He'd hoped getting out on the water would help dispel the shadows that always seemed to be present in her eyes.

  She was still the same woman inside—the embrace they'd just shared had proved that to him beyond a doubt. Yet the Kate he'd known wouldn't have turned on him after they'd been interrupted. She would have been as eager as he was to find the opportunity to pick up where they'd left off.

  What had happened to her? What had made her so cautious? A lot could take place in five years. Had some other man hurt her? Is that why she tried so hard to tamp down her real nature?

  Sam tightened his hands on the wheel at the thought of some other man mistreating his Kate. The idea of some other man even touching her was enough to make him want to punch something.

  "There she is," Kate called. "To starboard."

  Sam nudged the wheel to adjust their course. Within minutes, they were close enough to the cruiser to see that it wasn't under power. No one was on deck. It drifted like a large white rubber toy, tossed by the vagaries of the wind and waves.

  Kate studied the boat through her binoculars, then slipped past him to radio an update to the command post. By the time she emerged from the cabin, Sam could hear the chug of an engine growing louder from the northwest.

  "That would be Petty Officer Thurlow," Kate said, nodding toward the squat, dark blue vessel that was approaching. "The fishing boat he's been assigned to has been keeping track of this cruiser. I've directed the nearest spotter aircraft to swing past, as well."

  "She looks abandoned," Sam said.

  "Yes. That gives us a good excuse to hail her without compromising our cover."

  Sam nodded, bringing the sloop as close as he dared in the heaving swells. He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Ahoy on the cruiser!"

  Minutes went past but there was no reply.

  Thurlow's fishing boat was closing now. It slowed as it reached two hundred yards. A speck appeared on the horizon, growing fast. The spotter plane would be here in minutes.

  Kate sounded the sloop's horn. "Ahoy on the cruiser," she shouted. "Do you need assistance?"

  The seemingly abandoned boat wobbled, as if weight had suddenly shifted near the waterline.

  Sam took his gun from the locker where he'd stored it and slipped it into his waistband at the small of his back. "Kate, be careful," he said.

  She looked at him. It was the first time she'd met his gaze since they'd left the cove. Her demeanor was once again all business... except for the flush in her cheeks. "You, too, Sam."

  Before he could say anything more, she sounded the horn again.

  A pale face appeared in the window of the cruiser. Sam had a glimpse of tousled hair and widened eyes before the face dropped out of view.

  He moved his hand over the butt of his gun, prepared to use the weapon at the first hint of trouble.

  A few seconds later a young man and short, plump woman stumbled from the cabin. The man wore nothing but a pair of boxer shorts, and the woman was wrapped in a flowered sheet. They gaped across the water at Sam and Kate, looked around at the idling fishing boat, then turned as one and stared openmouthed at the aircraft that was passing overhead.

  For a long, drawn-out moment no one moved. Finally, Kate made her way closer to the bow and called to the couple from there. "We saw you were adrift. We wondered if you needed help."

  The couple exchanged a look. Then the man hitched up his shorts and shook his head. He cupped his hands around his mouth and called, "No, thanks, we don't need assistance. I think I'm getting the hang of it now."

  The woman turned scarlet and smacked her fist into his chest. Her companion just grinned and pulled her into his arms.

  Whoever that woman was, she wasn't Ursula Chambers, Sam saw immediately. And it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why that cruiser had been moving erratically.

  Evidently, Thurlow and the crew of the fishing boat had figured it out, too. Over the open radio link Sam heard rapid conversation, followed by hoots of laughter.

  "We're on our honeymoon," the man called, although further explanation wasn't really necessary. "We were, uh, busy and didn't realize you were hailing us."

  "No problem," Sam said. "Carry on."

  "I intend to. As soon as possible." Sappy grin still firmly in place, the man went up to the bridge while the woman ducked into the cabin. The cruiser's engines started up with a throaty rumble. A few minutes later, the cruiser was skimming over the waves toward Montebello.

  Sam waved to the crew of the fishing boat as they resumed their charted course. He didn't share their laughter. If not for the interruption of the radio, he and Kate could have been as oblivious to the world around them as that pair of honeymooners.

  He turned his gaze to Kate. She was still standing at the bow, her body rigid, her fingers white where she gripped the railing. She wasn't laughing, either. She looked at him, her chin angling upward in a mannerism he wasn't sure he liked anymore.

  The hell of it was, she was right. They shouldn't have kissed. What if he hadn't heard the radio? What if this call hadn't been a false alarm and Chambers had escaped because he and Kate were too busy making love, or having sex, or whatever she wanted to call it? How would they be able to explain that to the admiral who had entrusted them with this assignment, and to the king whose nephew had been murdered, and to the grieving prince who was depending on them to capture his lover's killer?

  Sam ground his teeth. All right, fine. They were still on a mission, but as far as he was concerned, the mission parameters had just changed. He'd keep his hands off Kate while they were on duty, but that didn't extend to their off-duty hours.

  There was no going back now for either of them. He wouldn't let her.

  Chapter 9

  One foot in front of the other. Breathe in, breathe out. Simple, basic, mindless motion. Kate listened to the slap of her running shoes on cobblestone and the rhythmic rush of her pulse and waited for the calm that usually came over her by this point in her run.

  It didn't happen. Despite working twelve hours straight at the command post today and pushing her body near its limit tonight, she couldn't empty her mind. She couldn't leave this tension behind. All she could think of was the taste of Sam's kiss yesterday, the feel of the deck beneath her back and his weight on top of her.

  Once again, the past tangled with the present. She remembered their last night on the sailboat they had rented. They'd used the foredeck then. There had been more room. They'd propped their backs against the cabin house and watched the stars come out. Then Sam had taken her clothes off one item at a time and shown her new stars, whole constellations that weren't in the sky.

  That had been magic, too.

  She pushed her pace up a notch.

  "Hi. Mind if I keep you company?"

  She snapped her head toward the voice. A male figure jogged toward her from the darkened alley she had just passed. For a large man he moved silently, his tread as easy as a loping predator's, leashed power in every line of his body.

  She would have known who it was even if she hadn't recognized his voice. Only one man she knew had a body that could move like that.

  Damn him, damn him. The silent curse matched the beat of her footsteps. This had been her last refuge, her escape, her time to herself. Now he'd intruded on this, as well. "What are you doing here, Sam?" she demanded.

  He caught up to her and adjusted his pace to hers. "Enjoying the evening."

  "Sam..."

  "This breeze is a nice change from the heat we had today. I've heard it's been unseasonably warm for October lately. Have you noticed that?"

  "Yes, it's been warmer than usual."

  "We're bound to get a weather change soon. Might as well enjoy it while we can."

  How could he be making small talk when her painstakingly constructed world was teetering around her? "Sam, did you deliberately follow me?"

  "Absolutely. How else
would I have found you?"

  His ready answer struck her speechless for a moment. She hadn't expected such a blatant admission.

  "Why didn't you want to go out with our fleet today?" he asked.

  "I had other things to catch up on at the command post."

  "You missed the meeting with the police chief."

  "I was busy. I thought you could handle that by yourself."

  "Uh-huh. I looked for you when I got back to the base, but you'd already left. We're partners, Kate. You can't keep avoiding me."

  She hated it when he was right. "Has there been a development?"

  "Not with Chambers, no, but I thought you'd like to know I took the coin I found yesterday to the Montebellan Museum."

  "Oh. What did they say?"

  "It's a Spanish doubloon, just like you thought."

  "Is anyone from the museum going to investigate the cave?"

  "I gave the location to the antiquities coordinator. He said old coins have been turning up around the coast for years, so finding one wasn't that unusual, but he'll pass the information on to the university anyway. They'll probably send some graduate students out to investigate."

  "Sometimes it's better to let the past stay buried," she muttered.

  "Ah, but sometimes with a little persistence one finds a lost treasure. You're in great shape, you know. When did you take up jogging?"

  When? As soon as her body had recovered sufficiently from her miscarriage, that's when. "A while ago."

  "It shows. Your legs are fantastic." He turned and ran backward in front of her as he looked at her appreciatively. "But you already know I'm a leg man."

  "Sam, I think we should change the subject."

  He fell in by her side as the street curved up a tree-lined hill. "Why? I like the subject of your legs. But if you like, we can talk about those dimples you have right below the small of your back above the place where—"

  "Sam, stop it."

  "Why?"

  "I thought we agreed that we wouldn't..." She paused. "We agreed to leave the past alone."

  "That agreement expired the second you kissed me, and you know it."

  "Then we'll make a new agreement."

  "Okay. We won't kiss while we're on duty."

  "Sam—"

  "That will be oh-seven-hundred tomorrow. By my reckoning that leaves us almost ten hours to find an opportunity to kiss again."

  "This is ridiculous. I'm not going to schedule anything like that."

  "You're right. It's better to be spontaneous." He grabbed her hand, using her momentum to whirl her into his arms. With three strides he left the road and backed them both into the shadow of a tree.

  "Sam!"

  He smothered her protest with a swift, hard kiss.

  She flattened her palms on his chest, intending to push him away. But then his mouth softened, moving with gentle, teasing nips that made her lift her face to follow him.

  He smiled against her lips and pressed closer until her back came up against the tree.

  Oh, damn him, damn him. This time the curse kept pace with the pulse she felt pounding in her ears. How could he do this so effortlessly? One touch, one kiss, and her resolve simply crumbled. She turned her head and gulped for air, trying to clear her mind.

  He ran his thumb along her lower lip. "I said I wanted to kiss you first, remember?"

  She also remembered how she'd told herself to stop.. .and she vividly remembered what had happened when they hadn't. She clasped the tree trunk behind her and used it to lever herself out of his embrace. "I have no intention of picking up where we left off yesterday, Sam."

  "That's okay. I'll enjoy starting from the beginning."

  She shook her head and turned toward the street. She had put half a block between them before she heard the light pad of his footsteps behind her. He moved to her side and matched his stride to hers, seemingly content to continue the run in silence.

  But he didn't have to say anything to make her aware of him. She heard his breathing. She inhaled his scent. She could still taste his kiss on her lips. She even imagined she could feel the warmth that was coming off his body.

  They left the cobblestone streets behind as they reached the road that led to the naval base. Although traffic was sparse at this hour, they kept to the side of the pavement. They were less than a mile from the base when Sam finally spoke again. "Do you remember that restaurant we used to go to in the Keys?" he asked. "The one with the fishing net that was hung from the ceiling?"

  Yes, she remembered. They'd liked to eat at one particular table in the corner because it had been private, but the net had drooped low over that spot. Sam had tangled with it on more than one occasion, usually because he wasn't paying attention to his surroundings—he was too focused on getting them to someplace even more private.

  "I kept whacking my head into the edge of the net every time I stood up, remember?"

  "Vaguely. What about it?"

  "I found a restaurant west of the base that does seafood almost as good."

  "The Flying Jib?"

  "That's right. Do you know it?"

  "I've heard of it. It's very popular."

  "But you haven't been there?"

  "No, I—" She stopped herself from explaining. As a rule, she kept herself too busy to socialize much. Oh, she had made plenty of friends at the various postings she'd had, but lately most of her off-duty hours seemed to be taken up with solitary runs or studying naval regulations.

  Why was that? She used to enjoy going out and having fun whenever she could. It had been another way to escape that soulless house in the suburbs. All that had changed after her miscarriage. At first she'd been too depressed to think about fun. Then she'd turned all her energy toward her career. And there was nothing wrong with that. She'd achieved the independent, successful life she'd wanted.

  That is, it was what she'd wanted until last week when she'd held that infant and she'd seen Sam's face again. It was all she'd thought she'd needed until she'd felt herself come alive with Sam's kiss.

  Damn him.

  "Would you like to have dinner with me there tomorrow?"

  "That wouldn't be a good idea, Sam."

  "We'll be off-duty. You need to eat sometime."

  "Thanks, but I'll pass."

  "What are you running from, Kate?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about."

  "It must be something big to have made you want to bury the woman I remember."

  "I'm not running from anything, Sam. I'm jogging. It's a form of exercise. Many people do it."

  "Sure, but you run as if you're trying to get away from something," he persisted. "What is it? What happened, Kate?"

  He was too perceptive. Yes, she ran to escape. She ran from her past, her memories and her guilt. But Sam kept stirring them up, making her think about them when she'd done just fine for five years by keeping them buried. She quickened her pace, hoping the increased demand for oxygen would make it too difficult for him to talk.

  He stayed by her side effortlessly. "See? You're doing it now."

  She didn't reply because he was right.

  "Was it a man, Kate? Did he hurt you? Is that why you try to bottle up your passion?"

  The irony of Sam asking her questions like these might have made her laugh if she'd had the breath left for it.

  "Because I know you're still the same inside," he continued. "I felt it when we kissed on the boat."

  "That was a mistake."

  "No, it wasn't, although I admit the timing could have been better. That's why we need to talk."

  "You pick the worst times to have these conversations, Sam."

  "Then have dinner with me tomorrow. Talk to me then."

  "No, thanks."

  "Lunch?"

  "No."

  "Breakfast?"

  "Sam..."

  A horn blared behind them. Kate automatically moved closer to the side of the road. A military jeep drove past, but instead of continuing toward the bas
e, it screeched to a stop a dozen yards ahead of them. A large man jumped out and began to approach.

  Kate had already slowed her pace when Sam extended his arm in front of her, blocking her path. He spoke low and fast, all traces of warmth gone from his voice. "Stay behind me until we see what's going on."

  She leaned over and braced her hands on her knees, breathing deeply a few times to catch her breath. "Sam, I can take care of myself."

  "Humor me, okay?"

  The man was larger than Sam, possessing the solid build of a linebacker, yet despite his size he moved with the cat-footed grace of a martial arts expert. Kate straightened and watched him warily, but the closer he came, the more Sam relaxed.

  The stranger passed beneath the pool of light from a streetlight, revealing a thick thatch of red hair. "Hey, there," he called. "Maybe you could help me out. I'm looking for a buddy of mine. Heard I could find him around here."

  Sam crossed his arms and waited, an odd expression on his face.

  "You'll recognize him if you see him," the man continued. He didn't stop until he was standing toe to toe with Sam. "Real ugly character. Puny, too. Owes me money."

  "I take offense at that, Reilly," Sam said.

  "Oh, yeah? Which part?"

  "I paid you back that fifty I borrowed a month ago."

  The tall man laughed and gave Sam a slap on the back that would have knocked a smaller man down. "How's it going, Coburn? Still breathing through that bullet hole in your side?"

  Sam broke into a smile and clasped the man's shoulder while he shook his hand. "Nope. Using my gills instead." Sam stepped aside and turned to Kate. "Kate, meet Joe Reilly."

  Reilly swept into a graceful bow, then took Kate's hand and carried it to his lips. "Pleased to meet you, Kate. Leave it to Coburn to find the prettiest girl on the island to chase. If it was me, I wouldn't be chasing you down a road, though. I'd be chasing you around a—"

  "Shut up, Reilly," Sam said.

  He grinned and gave Kate a wink. "Come with me, darlin', and I'll guarantee you won't be wanting to use those running shoes."

  "Chief Petty Officer Reilly, this is Lieutenant Kate Mulvaney," Sam said.