Once in a Lifetime

by Ginna Gray

  David watched him, his face impassive. "I want you to set up a meeting for us with your superiors."

  "I got a better idea. Why don't you just dump the broad and let her fend for herself?"

  Abigail sucked in her breath. She darted a look at David, but his hard profile gave nothing away.

  "Hell, man, you don't want to get involved in this," Leo went on. "You're a civilian now. Why don't you just leave it and walk away. Our guys won't hassle you. I guarantee it."

  "And Miss Stewart?"

  Leo shrugged and spread his hands.

  "David...?"

  Under the table his hand closed around Abigail's twisting ones. "Don't worry, honey. I'm not going anywhere."

  David's gaze stabbed into Leo, but the other man was too busy studying Abigail to notice.

  His scarred mouth lifted in a sneer. "Well, well. Like that, is it? Funny. I didn't think you went for the prissy librarian type, ol' buddy. Must be a lot hotter than she looks."

  It happened so fast, Abigail barely had time to blink. One instant Leo Bates sat slouched against the opposite seat, smirking. The next, David jerked him halfway across the table by his shirtfront.

  "Hey—!"

  "Just shut up, Bates. I don't want to hear another word about Abigail come out of that filthy mouth of yours. Got that? She is what she is, and if you're too blind or too dumb-ass stupid to see how appealing that is, then that's your problem. Abbey's a decent woman. A lady. Something a creep like you wouldn't know anything about, so just keep your comments to yourself."

  Abigail stared at David, her mouth sagging open. The last thing she expected was to hear him defend her. That he'd done so, and with such emphatic fury, warmed her heart.

  Emotion swelled in her chest, and as she gazed at him, her surprised expression changed to melting tenderness.

  With his elbow braced like an arm wrestler's, David held Leo sprawled off balance over the table. His bicep bulged, and the tendons and veins stood out along his arm. The two men stared at each other nose to nose, one face wary, resentful—the other rigid, muscles twitching with restrained menace.

  Jaw clenched, David held Leo suspended for several seconds longer. Finally he shoved him back onto the bench seat. "Now pay attention, Bates. I want a meeting with your superior. Or whoever is running this show. And I want it fast. So set it up."

  "All right, all right. I'll see what I can do."

  "Don't see—just do it." David took Abigail's hand and slid out of the booth. "I'll expect to hear from you by tomorrow night."

  Leo nodded, and without another word, David turned away.

  Abigail's every instinct urged her to run for the nearest exit, but he kept a firm grip on her hand. With bold unconcern, he strolled with her through the room of hostile faces and out into the balmy night.

  The instant they stepped through the door, the air of brazen challenge vanished, and his entire body tensed like someone had flipped a switch. "C'mon, Legs, move it," he urged, and hustled her away into the shadows at something just under a run.

  "What do we do now?" Abigail gasped as they hurried through the dark streets. Every so often she had to break into a trot to keep up with his long stride.

  David checked back over his shoulder again, an action he repeated every few seconds. "We hotfoot it back to the Freewind and get the hell off this island. After tonight our Rooskie friends will know we're still here and you can bet they'll search every inch of it. If they should find the cove I want to be long gone."

  ***

  The sudden reduction in engine speed brought Abigail awake with a start. She jerked upright on the companion bench and looked around the bridge, lit by the soft glow of light from the console. David stood at the wheel with his legs braced wide, his gaze trained straight ahead.

  Abigail rotated the stiffness from her shoulder and rubbed the back of her neck. She hadn't meant to fall asleep. Guiltily she glanced up. Stars still glittered overhead, so at least she hadn't dozed long.

  David cut speed even more until they were moving at a slow idle. The engines chugged in the quiet night, the sound blending with the swish and slap of the water.

  Her mind drifting, Abigail gazed out over the side. When the boat bumped something solid, she jumped and gave a startled yelp. Concerned, she hurried over to stand beside David, and her eyes widened. They had come to an idling stop against a wooden pier.

  "Hold the wheel steady," David said, and lifted her hand onto it before she could protest. At once she felt the drag of water and overcompensated, and the boat bumped the pier again, harder. "Dammit, I said steady," David barked as he skimmed down the ladder.

  He jumped to the pier and disappeared into the darkness. Abigail felt a dart of panic. Where was he going? She wanted to run after him, but she had her hands full trying to control the bobbing boat.

  A few seconds later, a light came on inside the boat house just ahead. Steel rollers rumbled, and a rectangle of yellow spilled out over the water as the door slid upward, revealing two slips. A small speedboat occupied one. The other stall was empty.

  By the time David returned, Abigail had bumped the boat against the pier three more times.

  "Jeez, Legs, what the hell are you trying to do, beat a hole in the side?" He stepped up behind her and reached for the wheel. Abigail relinquished it gladly.

  "Where are we? Whose boat house is that?" She had expected they would spend the night at sea or anchored off an uninhabited island.

  "We're on Rincon Island. It's about twenty miles, as the crow flies, from Alhaja Verde. This place belongs to my sisters and their husbands."

  Abigail squinted. On a slight rise beyond the beach, she could just make out the shape of a sprawling one-story house. "But.. .do you think we should just barge in this way?"

  "No problem. They're coming down next week for a few days of R and R. I'm supposed to join them. But until then no one will be here. Besides, I have the use of the place anytime I want."

  He guided the cruiser into the slip and cut the engines. "We should be safe here, but just in case anyone comes looking, the boat will be out of sight."

  While David secured the boat, Abigail went below and gathered up her meager belongings and. Chelsea, who lay curled up on the banquette with her toy puppy.

  The wood and glass house had been designed with casual comfort and roominess in mind. Elevated on stilts and built in the shape of a wide-spread V, with a generous deck stretching along the seaward side, it enjoyed an uninterrupted view of the white sand beaches and the blue waters of the Gulf of Mexico.

  "There are bedrooms on either side," David said, leading her into the large, high-ceilinged room at the center of the structure, where the slanted wings converged.

  Feeling like a trespasser, Abigail stood just inside the door and looked around at gleaming wood floors dotted with rattan furniture with linen-covered cushions in a splashy yellow-and-white tropical print. At the back of the room, separated from the living area by a bar lined with stools, was an immaculate modern kitchen. Overhead, patches of stars twinkled through numerous skylights in the vaulted ceiling. During the day, Abigail realized tiredly, those same skylights would flood the room with sunshine.

  "Erin and Max use the left-hand wing, and Elise and Sam the right one," David said. "Each has a master suite and two guest rooms, so you have your pick. So long as we're on the same side of the house, I don't care where I flop."

  Abigail gave him a sharp look, and he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, I know I said we'd be safe here, and we probably will be, but I'm not taking any chances. If there's trouble, I want you within reach. Okay?"

  Giving him a wan smile, Abigail nodded. "Okay."

  "Good. Now c'mon. I don't know about you, but I'm bushed."

  He showed her to a pleasant room at the end of the right wing. "The bathroom is through there," he said as he moved from window to window, checking locks. "It connects with the bedroom I'll be using-1 want you to keep the hall door locked at all times a
nd both bathroom doors open when it's not being used. And don't lock them even then. Got it?"

  "Ye-yes. I understand."

  Abigail set her purse and the sack containing her clothes on the chaise lounge beside the windows. Chelsea climbed out of the side pocket and stretched sleepily. Scratching at the chintz cushions, she turned in a circle three times, before dropping her toy and curling around it with a sigh.

  David and Abigail looked at each other, then away. Quiet settled, as thick as pudding. They'd been alone together for over two days, most of the time on a cramped boat, but this was different. More intimate. This was a real house. A real bedroom. A real bed.

  Awkwardly, each waited for the other to speak. Abigail fiddled with the trim on the pocket of her sundress. David shifted from one foot to the other and looked at everything but her, his mouth grim. The silence stretched out, uncomfortable, endless. Then David broke it so abruptly she jumped.

  "Oh, for Pete's sake, Abbey, go to bed," he snapped, and stalked from the room.

  Abigail watched him disappear through the connecting bath, feeling shaky and hurt, and strangely abandoned.

  ***

  Lying in the queen-size bed with his hands clasped beneath his head, David listened to the gush of the shower. He'd hurried through his own in the master bath across the hall, uneasy with being separated from Abbey for even the few minutes it had taken.

  He was probably being overcautious. They hadn't been followed; he was sure of that. The boat was hidden. And apart from Pepe and Constanza, no one on Alhaja Verde knew that he was related to the Delanys and the Lawfords, the two couples who jointly owned a summerhouse on Rincon. For some reason—probably ingrained caution held over from his days with the Bureau—he'd chosen to keep that bit of information quiet.

  Of course, if anyone cared to dig they could find out, and sooner or later they would. But he figured they had a few days grace before that happened.

  If he was wrong and they were found, at least no one could sneak up on them. Their bedrooms were at the back where the windows were too high to reach, unless you happened to be a cat burglar. Across the deckside of the house, four sets of French doors opened from the master suites and the living room, but he'd rigged each with a cook pot suspended by a string, the end of which was caught between the top of the door frame and the jamb. If a door were opened, even slightly, a pot would hit the wooden floor with a clatter that would wake the dead. Crude perhaps, but effective. By the time they kicked in a bedroom door he'd be ready for them.

  A hard smile curved David's mouth as he slipped a hand beneath the pillow and closed it around the grip on the .45 automatic. Sam Lawford, you big wary bastard, I love ya, man.

  It was not a sentiment David had ever expected to experience, but at that moment if that damned taciturn brother-in-law of his had been there, David would have been hard-pressed not to kiss him.

  It would never have occurred to Max to keep a gun squirreled away for protection, but the isolation of the beach house had been a concern for Sam. His brother-in-law had mellowed out a lot since marrying Elise, but he still didn't trust his fellow man a whole helluva lot. Thank God. On David's last visit Sam had shown him where the weapon was stashed. Just in case.

  David fumbled a hand over the top of the bedside table and located the plastic sandwich bag—the one he'd found taped to the bottom of a drawer in the Freewind's galley. He extracted a cigarette and lit it. Only two left. HelL He'd have to search the boat again. Why the devil hadn't he thought to buy more before they left Pepe's?

  The sound of running water halted. David's gaze shifted to the bathroom door. Through it he heard the rattle of the shower curtain rings, and he gritted his teeth.

  He'd been doing his damnedest not to think of Abbey standing naked beneath the spray, all sleek and soapy, the mounds of lather sliding down her body, caressing her the way his hands itched to. But now, in his mind's eye he could see her, stepping from the tub, reaching for a towel, her wet hair streaming down her back to her hips, her skin rosy and beaded with water. If he were in there with her, he would sip every droplet from every inch of her. David's body tightened, and he groaned. God! He could almost taste it.

  Dammit, Blaine, will you knock it off! Think about something else, for God's sake!

  But it was no use. He wanted her. He wanted, her more than he could ever remember wanting any woman in his life. Why that was so, he didn't even want to think about.

  The whole thing was insane. This wasn't the time to get mixed up with a woman. Any woman. If he was going to get them out of this mess, he needed to stay sharp, keep his edge. Anyway, Abbey wasn't even his type, for goodness sake!

  Oh, hell, who was he kidding? He sighed and stubbed out the half-smoked cigarette with a hard jab that broke it in two. It was crazy, but he liked everything about the woman, from her sharp little tongue, to those wide aquamarine eyes to her ladylike manner to her sexy little body. He liked her soft voice, her openness, her fierce love and protectiveness for that silly animal, the cute way she said "Oh, my stars" whenever she was upset. He liked her sharp mind and her stout heart and her courage and grace under pressure. She'd been caught in a dangerous situation and frightened out of her wits, but even under fire she hadn't crumbled.

  Shoot, he even liked the way she stood up to him. David's mouth twitched. He didn't know any other woman who was gutsy enough to hide his cigarettes. Not even Erin had that kind of nerve.

  Yeah, he liked her all right. The truth was, he more than liked her. And that made him uneasy.

  Marriage wasn't part of his game plan. At least, not anytime soon. Hell, he'd just managed to get himself into a position to enjoy life. He had a good thing going with his new job, his boat, his bachelor life-style. He'd figured on enjoying it all for a few years before settling down.

  Dammit. He wasn't ready to fall in love.

  The bathroom door opened. A cloud of moist air roiled into the room, warm and evocative, redolent with the scents of soap, shampoo, talc and woman. David groaned as the heady combination filled his senses and sent fire streaking to his loins.

  The light went off, leaving only a soft glow spilling through from the other bedroom. Abbey's voice floated out to him, whisper-soft and shy. "Good night, David."

  His jaws clenched. "Night, Legs."

  Silence. Then after a moment the light clicked off, and from the other room came the faint squeak of the bed-springs.

  Aw, hell.

  ***

  Abigail flounced onto her side and winced when the bed squeaked again. It was no use. For twenty minutes she'd lain there willing sleep to come, but she was as wide-awake as an owl.

  She slipped her legs over the side and eased out of bed. She crossed to the windows, but all she could see were sand dunes and salt grass, tinted an eerie blue by the moon, and beyond that the line of trees where the forest took over and began its climb toward the mountains.

  She pivoted away and paced back and forth across the room, her bare feet soundless on the wood floors. Chelsea lay with her snout on her paws, button eyes tracking the restless movements.

  Abigail halted beside the windows again and stared out at nothing. She folded her arms across her midriff and massaged her elbows, her fingers moving in agitated little circles.

  There was no point in lying to herself any longer. David was the reason she couldn't sleep. She wanted him—wanted to feel his arms around her, wanted him to lass her, wanted him to make love to her... to love her.

  It was crazy. Common sense told her she couldn't be in love with mm. They'd known each other barely three days, for heaven's sake! What's more, they didn't even get along. They couldn't go more than a few hours without clashing like two gladiators.

  My stars, Abigail, the man is rude, bossy, bad-tempered and as hard as nails. The two of you have nothing in common.

  She sighed again, her shoulders slumping. But despite all that, despite the tension and fright of the past few days, despite the danger they still faced, she had to
admit, she had never felt so alive, so...so...energized. And yes...so happy. And it was all because she was with David.

  Abigail glanced toward the open bathroom door. Her heart warmed as she recalled the way he'd championed her to Leo Bates. His gruff tenderness the night before when she'd been upset. The way he'd held her, kissed her. How he'd refused to take advantage of her in that vulnerable state.

  And he had come to her rescue. Oh, he'd grumbled a lot and stomped around like a bad-tempered bear, but she was beginning to realize that all that growling and snarling was for show. At least, it was where she was concerned. He'd groused and cursed and threatened, but he'd still done everything in his power to keep her safe and help her get out of this crazy mess.

  For all his rough edges, beneath that irascible exterior, David Blaine was a kind and caring man. A modern-day chivalrous knight, almost. The corners of Abigail's mouth turned upward. She could just imagine how he'd react to that description.

  She sobered, longing and a touch of panic in her eyes as her gaze again turned toward David's room. Who knew what tomorrow would bring? Or even if they would live to see another tomorrow? David had been careful not to worry her any more than he had to, but she knew the odds were against them. Even if they survived the predicament they were in, they probably wouldn't have a future together. She knew that, too.

  But suddenly it didn't matter. None of it. With the exception of that debacle with Ted, all of her life she had been cautious. Every step she had ever made had been carefully considered. She had played it safe, prepared for every eventuality, protected herself at every turn and behaved in a circumspect manner—and all it had gotten her was a life as dull as dishwater.

  Well, no more. Squaring her shoulders, Abigail drew a deep breath and started toward the connecting bathroom. From that moment forward she was going to forget caution and live for the moment. For too long she had watched from a safe distance while life passed her by. Foolhardy or not, she had fallen in love with David, and for however long they had, whether it was years or days or even hours, she was going to grab what happiness she could.