Or whatever this tenuous thing was between them.
“Why don’t you find a stranger?”
He gave a tight smile. “I wanted to. A stranger would be smoother, safer.” His voice was rough, in stark contrast to his gentle touch. “Because it’s been personal since the moment I saw you tottering along Kearny Street, balancing that cake box as if it were a jewelry delivery from Tiffany’s. I can’t get you out of my mind, and that’s a distraction I can’t afford.”
The words tumbled out, driven by anger.
Gina felt them seep right through her skin into her heart.
“Why didn’t you tell me last night?”
“I needed to think things through. This feels like being kicked by a horse.” For once he hid none of what he was feeling.
Control would be as important as breathing to a man like this. He didn’t look in control now, with hunger etched on his hard features.
“What do you want from me, Trace?”
“You naked in my bed to start.”
Heat welled up as his thumb smoothed her mouth slowly.
“Except that’s not on the agenda. This is cover, a performance. It’s got to look absolutely real, but—” His voice tightened. “But it’s going nowhere. Can you live with that?”
She looked at him, her pulse hammering. “Probably not.”
He bent his head, his lips feathering across her cheek, along the sensitive ridge of her ear. His tongue followed, making her toes curl with aching pleasure. He was slow and expert, driving her body to respond with a sudden will of its own.
Gina fought an urge to say yes to whatever he wanted.
Her career was in shambles; her health was hanging by a thread. She could be blind tomorrow, trying to feel her way from one side of a room to the other without tripping. She had no business saying yes to anything like this.
She clenched her hands tightly. Otherwise, they were going to slide up and link around his shoulders.
She took a step back.
“Make it clear.” She tried to stay stubborn, aloof. “What are you asking me to do?”
His thumb circled the line of her lips. “A performance. The two of us caught up in a reckless shipboard fling hot enough to convince anyone who’s watching.”
“This is stupid and pointless. This is—”
“Necessary.”
She took a sharp breath, hit by lust. She wanted to feel him against her, inside her. For her, at least, it wouldn’t be an act.
Then the deeper meaning of what he’d said hit her. “You think someone is watching us? Here on the ship?”
“I doubt he’s here, but he could have people onboard working with him.”
She swallowed. She wasn’t going to think about sex with that gorgeous body and that dangerously keen mind. “You didn’t tell Tobias that.”
“I will when he’s done with the captain. But first I need your answer. Can you give me a cover that will buy me time? Tobias could be in danger, too, and I need to stay close without triggering any suspicion.”
That was hitting below the belt. First he stirred up gut-wrenching lust, and now he made a plea for a friend needing help. How could she possibly say no?
Damn the man. “For how long?” Her body ached with tension. Logic fought with needs she didn’t want to face.
“For the rest of the cruise.”
“So we do a little bit of Love Boat, a little bit of An Affair to Remember?” She laughed unsteadily. “Don’t ask me to walk in front of a bus.”
He looked blank. “What bus?”
“Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr. You never saw it? What kind of life have you led, poor child?”
“Claymores and C-rations. And no, I never saw it.”
“It doesn’t matter. So you want us to spend the days together. What about the nights?”
His eyes were like brushed steel. “Same thing. Your cabin or mine. Preferably mine, since I’ve got surveillance equipment there.”
“And while we’re there…” Gina let the question float unfinished.
She needed to understand the ground rules. She had to know exactly what he expected.
“You sleep, I work. Same room, nothing more.”
“I see.” She didn’t. Not for a second. The lust was mutual. He’d made that clear. So why didn’t he want to act on it?
His hand slid up her bare arm. “You need to understand that there’s danger involved. There will probably be surveillance that we don’t suspect.” His hand stopped. “If I had any choice, I wouldn’t ask you.”
Gina already knew there would be risk. She wasn’t stupid. “I can live with that.”
Meanwhile, there were other questions to be asked. “Does this involve our country? Is it a question of our security?”
He frowned. “It’s important. That’s as much as I’m able to tell you.”
“And there’s one man involved? Only one?”
“In this case, one is more than enough.” Trace’s voice was grim. “He’s as dangerous as they come.”
“Why?”
Trace shook his head.
“I don’t get a name or description, either?”
“No.”
“You don’t ask much do you? I pretend to be involved in a gritty affair and risk my neck for a reason I’ll never know, to fight a man I’ll never see.”
“Yes,” he said simply.
Gina looked at his calm eyes and her decision came far too fast. “When do we start?”
Trace let out a slow breath. “Be certain. There’s no going back once this begins. Any change would be a clear tip-off.”
“I’m sure.” She put one hand on his arm for emphasis, felt his muscles tense. The movement made her throat turn dry.
She felt the flex and play of his sculpted muscles under her hand and his breath against her cheek. When had every sense become so acute, her body turning traitor to her mind?
“I can handle the risks,” she snapped.
“Can you? Can you stay detached, even if I’m touching you? Even if we’re kissing slow and wet?” His voice turned harsh. “And looking like we want to have blind, reckless sex on every possible surface every hour.”
Oh, the image burned. White-hot, it drove right into her skull. Oh, yeah, she could look like that…without even trying.
She could start right here, in fact. Maybe he was the one who’d have trouble staying detached.
“I’m not sure I can trust you.”
“I’m not sure you can, either.” His voice was harsh. “You twist my guts when you’re in the same room. I won’t be acting.” He made a flat, angry sound. “Around you everything seems too alive, too vivid. But we can’t cross the line. Sex—good sex—requires time and a commitment, neither of which I have.”
Looking into his eyes, Gina saw his rough honesty and the deep code of ethics that he lived by. A little voice told her to run while she still could.
A braver voice told her to take what time there was and forget about tomorrow.
Even if he left her with nothing but memories and a broken heart.
“Okay,” she rasped. “No crossing the line. Are you going to tell me how we do that? Because I sure as heck don’t have a clue.”
A muscle moved at his jaw. “If it were just us, you’d be upstairs in my bed right now. You’d be sweaty, naked and exhausted.” His eyes were hot. “And I would just be getting started.”
Desire crackled, filling the small space. Gina’s body flushed in hidden places. “You must be pretty good, Lieutenant.”
“I’m good.” No false modesty. “With you, I’d be…unforgettable.” He muttered a curse. “You’re entitled to something better than a few nights, Gina. Meanwhile, I have a job to do, and I don’t intend to screw up. You understand?”
She blocked a string of hot images and smiled crookedly. “Sure I understand. Love Boat in the corridor, Leave it to Beaver once the door is closed.”
He didn’t smile. “That’s the playbook. It has to be. Can you sta
y calm and be convincing, even if things turn messy?”
Oh, she could be convincing. It would be as easy as breathing. Gina decided to prove it. “Like this, you mean?”
She gripped his shoulders and moved in fast, before he could answer. Just one hot kiss, she thought. That would be proof enough.
But when she pulled his head down, her eyes closed and her heart fluttered. She skimmed his mouth and then bit his lower lip, her tongue wrapped around his.
He made a harsh sound.
As his hands tightened on her hair, she smoothed the small bite with her tongue, tasting his mouth while the kiss turned hot, veering to the edge of control.
Dangerous, she thought. And perfect.
Trace didn’t move, feeling the top of his head go up in flames. The woman was sleek and stubborn, and one touch had him tied up in knots.
But with Cruz in the equation, there was no room for distraction or mistakes. So he leaned back and kept his expression cool, hiding the fact that this woman might just have torn out his heart.
“Not bad, Ryan.”
She pulled away, hands on her hips. Color burned across her cheeks. “Not bad?” Her breath came in short, angry jerks. “Why don’t you take your mission plans and shove them up a small, dark place?”
Definitely steamed, Trace thought. “No need to shout. The kiss was perfect,” he said roughly. “You know it and I know it.” He cupped her hips, pulling her closer until they were thigh to thigh, heat against heat. “I’d like to take you right here, naked against this wall. It would be the best sex you or I ever had, honey, because I’d make damn sure of that. It would be wet and noisy and we’d both come out of here changed people.”
He felt her shiver.
“Then why are we wasting time with talk?” The question was low, almost unwilling. She met his gaze with fierce honesty.
No coyness. No evasions.
Trace shook his head tensely. “Shouldn’t. Can’t. Won’t. End of story.”
He only wished it were that simple. Wished he could stop smelling her faint perfume and dreaming about her slim, strong legs wrapped around him as she took him deep inside her.
He wanted to hear her first moan as he drove her over the edge in passion. He wanted to watch her as he sent her up again before the first climax had ended.
No, for him this wouldn’t be a performance at all.
Because she seemed too calm, he ran his hands over the rise of her breasts, pleased when he felt the crests tighten instantly. His thumbs moved slowly back and forth until her breath caught.
But he forced himself to stop, to lower his arms as if he had touched a brick wall rather than a living, breathing, infinitely desirable woman. Irritated by his need, he gestured toward the door. “Let’s go. I don’t want to leave Tobias alone.”
Her eyes darkened. She seemed to jolt down to earth the second he said her friend’s name. “Tobias,” she whispered. “Right. We—we should go.”
Trace watched her fumble with her hair, vainly trying to smooth the tangles left from their hot grappling. Her jerky movements amused even as they seduced him. There was no reason for him to be so enchanted. There was no excuse for feeling so dangerously moved.
Except that she filled some hole, some dark space he’d never allowed himself to acknowledge before.
Was that part of the magic?
The SEAL took a slow, hard breath. He was prepared to push his emotions deep, where they wouldn’t threaten his mission. But for one moment he didn’t move, savoring the sight of her flushed face and clearly aroused nipples beneath her shirt.
Simple, yet stunning. The woman he’d wanted forever, without knowing it. He’d never have enough of seeing her aroused this way, her eyes dark with passion.
He looked away. Cursed mentally. Counted to five.
When he turned back, she was trying to brush her hair out of her face. Every motion outlined the perfect curve of her breasts, trembling and tight against her white cotton T-shirt.
Kill me now, Trace thought.
But he couldn’t drag his gaze away.
Tugging her hands anxiously through her hair, she glared back at him. “What? Why are you staring at me like that? Is there lettuce between my teeth?”
She had a small streak of chocolate beneath her left ear. Trace had wanted to lick it away the moment he’d seen her thirty minutes before. He thought about how he’d make her come just by the touch of his hands and the slide of his tongue.
Hell.
Sheer lust had never left him so out of balance, with his control shredding. Yet as he stared at her, something hot and possessive gripped his chest. He recognized the lust without a problem. He had felt it before, for women he had forgotten an hour later.
He’d never forget this woman.
Now his lust was mixed with other emotions he had never felt before. Deep and confusing, they wrapped him up in a way he had never felt before. He felt a dangerous tenderness, a bone-deep urgency to protect her from harm, and beneath both a primal need to claim and possess. The force of those feelings infuriated him.
He moved away, keeping his face blank. “Tell me about Tobias.”
“He never talks about his past or family or any of the things he did before he came here, but we all know it was something important.” Her eyes clouded. “If a man as strong as Tobias can be hurt, then God help the rest of us.”
Trace thought that she was just as strong and resourceful as Tobias in her own way, but all he did was shake his head. “Everyone has weak spots.”
“I doubt that you do.”
He never had before he’d met her. She had become his only point of vulnerability. God help them if Cruz discovered that. “In my line of work, weak spots are a definite negative.”
“What exactly is your line of work?”
“This and that. Here and there.”
“So it’s classified. I’m glad. If you’re that good, you’ll keep Tobias safe.” Her hands smoothed her T-shirt. “I’ll do whatever you need.”
Another man might have found an excuse to take advantage of that promise, but the temptation never entered Trace’s mind. He tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, skimmed his hand around the neckline of her T-shirt to slip the label back inside. When his hand moved lower, her breath caught in a sigh.
She looked away, bit her lip. “Maybe—you should stop. No one is watching us now.”
He wanted to take all day. He wanted to watch more color flare into her cheeks. This was another thing Cruz had taken away from him.
He smoothed the shoulders of her T-shirt and stepped back. “I need food.” His voice was harsh. So much for this being a performance. “Why don’t you give me some kind of dessert for Tobias? When I deliver it, I can have a closer look at his office and go over preparations for forced access.” He wouldn’t give her more details than this.
She nodded slowly. “I can do that. His éclairs were still on the counter when we left.”
She turned. Her shirt was straightened, her hair now sleek and tidy. She looked every inch the cool professional. “How do I look?”
“Good enough for me to eat.” His voice was hard. “Very slowly.”
There was the heat, flaring into her cheeks.
Another time, Trace thought.
With luck when this was over…
He pushed the thought away. There was only now. Only the mission. Distractions got you killed.
Enrique Cruz had to be stopped for good. Twice before the man had escaped death against impossible odds, walking out unharmed.
No matter the cost, Cruz couldn’t escape again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
TOBIAS HALE FINISHED his paperwork.
On the wall to his right, a false piece of plaster hid a fireproof safe. He should have been thinking about that safe and the precious technology hidden inside it. The package had to be dropped off in Puerto Vallarta when the ship docked. Until then, he was an uneasy babysitter, and Trace O’Halloran’s warning h
ad hit him hard. So much for the easy, uneventful trip that Lloyd Ryker had promised.
He checked his e-mail. Then he crossed his hands tightly. Closing his eyes, he felt the weight of his past press down like a moving tank.
His life had held memories of too many hard decisions. The past came back to mock him now with choices made and roads not taken. At the time his choice to walk away had seemed the only way to protect those he loved.
Tobias had regretted that decision every day of his life for the past seventeen years. Yet he knew he would do it all again.
Two pictures rested against the wall at the corner of his desk. Gently, he lifted the closer one, the same way he had done every day for almost two decades.
A slender, anxious boy stared into the camera. One hand gripped the old-fashioned bicycle he had just purchased with hard-earned savings. That day, rich with the drone of cicadas under a hot, hazy sky, was as clear to Tobias as yesterday. He closed his eyes, ran one hand over his face.
Too many regrets.
There had been another person there that day. Shining black eyes. A strong, slender body and capable hands.
A kiss that could drop a man to his knees.
The boy’s mother had opposed the bicycle, determined that every precious penny go toward college. It was the only time Tobias had disagreed with her on anything important. A boy was entitled to a bicycle, he had argued. The happiness flaring across his son’s face had convinced him it was the right decision.
Two weeks later, everything had crashed down around him. His career. His wife’s respect. His son’s love.
All destroyed by unscrupulous men caught in their hunger for money and power.
Old news, Tobias thought wearily. He rested the photograph back on the corner of his desk, staring at the face of his son seventeen long years past.
Too many regrets.
Too many secrets.
He turned slowly in his chair, his eyes bleak. His hand moved toward the telephone, dialing the number that he had long ago committed to memory.
He stopped before he finished the area code. There was no point in doing more because there was no way to go back.
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