by Rebecca York
She couldn’t speak. All she could do was stand there, clenching and unclenching one fist.
His hands dropped away from her body. “This time, were you trying to forget about the thugs looking for us?” he asked, his voice gritty.
“No. I was thinking only about being with you.”
He sighed. “Annie, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
“Max.” She knew he couldn’t understand the uncertainties swirling within her. She didn’t entirely understand them herself. But she knew that in Hermosa Harbor, Florida, people did what they wanted, when they wanted. And she wasn’t like them.
She looked at him, seeing regret and pain in his eyes.
“Max,” she said again, reaching for him, clinging to him. She dragged in a shuddering breath, then let it out in a rush. When she’d accused him of being intimate with Nicki, she had spoken of sexual intercourse. Now she used another term, a forbidden term. “I wanted to…make love with you. But then we were both naked and I looked at the bed, and something inside me told me that what we were doing was wrong.”
He tipped her head up, looking down into her worried face. “Morality rearing its ugly head again?”
“Unfortunately, yes!” She struggled to rein in her frustration and to find the right words. “But I want to be with you.”
“Why?”
She was terrified that he would pull away from her, and she knew she had to say something. So she blurted out the truth—as much of the truth as she knew. “Because it feels good. More than just physically good. You touch something deep inside me….” Her voice trailed off, and she heaved a sigh. “I think it’s because I have never met a man I care about as much as you.”
“You’ve only known me for a few days.”
“A few very intense days,” she countered. It was so unreal to be here with him like this. It was forbidden. Yet…
He didn’t speak, and she knew she had to fill the silence with words he would believe. Even when he had believed so little of what she had told him.
“Max, most of my memories before Hermosa Harbor are gone. But I think I haven’t had much happiness in my life. Being with you makes something inside me…unfurl.”
Again words failed her. She wasn’t saying what she meant, so she ended the short speech by clasping her hands around the back of his head, bringing his mouth back to hers for a kiss that flared hot and fierce between them. Desperate to keep him from leaving her now, she pulled him down to the bed.
When he lifted his head, they were side by side and both breathing hard. But she knew she hadn’t won yet when he said, “This may be all wrong for you.”
“I don’t think so.”
Levering himself up on one elbow, he gently stroked her lips with his finger. “Annie, I’ve thought from the first that you weren’t very experienced with men.”
“Does that matter to you?” she asked.
His hand continued to stroke her face, her hair. “Maybe I’d better ask a different question. Do you, um, know what making love means?”
She felt heat flood her face, but she was not going to look away from him. “You mean physically?”
He kept his gaze steady on her. “Yeah.”
She swallowed, realizing she hadn’t really thought about what she’d been planning to do with him. Not exactly. She had only wanted to be close to him. As close as a woman could be to a man. Now a more explicit picture leaped into her mind—one that made her face grow hot. The words were too hard to say, so she reached between them, touching the part of him that she had already clasped. It had been large and hard. Now it was softer, less formidable. “You put this…inside me.”
“Where?” he asked.
She wanted to duck away from him, but she was afraid that if she didn’t answer, he would climb out of the bed.
“Down here.” She took his hand, carrying it to the place that throbbed with heat when he kissed her and caressed her.
He moved his hand away from that place, then reached to pull at the sheet and coverlet they were lying on top of. “Contrary to what you may think, I find having this conversation buck naked a little disconcerting. Raise your hips so we can get under the covers.”
She was glad to do as he asked. After they were settled again, he reached for her hand and knit his fingers with hers. When he spoke, his voice was gritty. “Annie, I think you are very sweet and very naive. Not like any woman I’ve ever met. And I also think we can’t go any further, not if that’s all you know about it.”
“It’s not all I know!”
“Okay, what else?”
“I know how you make me feel when you kiss me, when you touch me.”
She saw his Adam’s apple bob. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be taking advantage of you. And now that we’re talking about it calmly, I’ve got a little better handle on responsible behavior. I’m not going to take a chance on getting you pregnant. Because, in case you don’t remember, making love is the way people make babies.”
“Oh,” she answered, feeling stupid. Had she known that? It sounded right, now that he’d told her.
She pressed the back of her head into the pillow, staring up at the ceiling, once again fighting to hold back the tears that burned behind her eyes. She had been carried along by emotions. Consequences had not even entered her mind. Beside her, she heard Max curse.
“Come here,” he said gruffly. Rolling toward her, he clasped her in his arms again.
She curled against him, clung to him—this time for comfort as much as for anything else.
“Annie, Annie,” he murmured. “You are such a mystery. So lost and yet so strong. You don’t hesitate to go up against an armed man, but making love frightens you even if you won’t admit that to me.”
She nodded slightly. “I guess that’s right.”
“Where the hell do you come from?”
“If I could answer that question, I would.”
“I know,” he said with quiet conviction.
“You do?”
“Yeah, I do. After what we’ve been through together tonight, I trust you with my life.”
“Oh, Max.”
She twined her arms around his body, holding tight.
He cradled her against him, then began speaking again. “You’ve lost your memory, but that’s not the only thing that’s different about you.”
“What else?”
“The way you react to this culture is wildly different from someone who was born here.”
“I know,” she murmured, thinking about the way she talked and about the nightclub, remembering the people she’d seen practically having sexual intercourse in the hallway. And the others at the tables and on the dance floor, shamelessly kissing. “I keep trying to pretend that I’m like everyone else, but it takes a lot of energy.”
He laughed and stroked her shoulder. “Sometimes it seems like you’re from another century.”
His words sent a small shiver over her skin. “What century?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Some time in the past, when women were expected to be virgins until they married. The only problem with that theory is that you told me you can drive a car.”
She glimpsed a memory. “Yes. An automatic. Not a stick shift. And I can start the engine with a wire.”
“A valuable talent in some circles.”
Her smile was fleeting. “But it’s hard for me to talk about sex.”
“I can see that.”
“With you…it feels okay. Well, not okay, exactly. But I have to discuss it if I’m going to make you stop backing away from me.” She raised her eyes to his. “Are you looking for excuses to go sleep in another bed?”
He released the lock of her hair he’d been twining around her fingers and brushed her lips with his, then he slid his mouth to her ear, taking her lobe between his teeth and playing with it. Everything he did brought back the wonderful hot feelings he had kindled in her before.
“Max, please…” she breathe
d, hating the pleading sound of her voice. Looking down at the covers over his hips, she saw that he had changed again. She was pretty sure the male part of him she craved was once again hard.
The physical change in him gave her hope that he wasn’t going to climb out of the bed and leave her alone.
It was his words that dashed her hopes. “We can’t make love,” he said in a thick voice.
“Don’t tell me that!”
“But we can do other things.”
She couldn’t ask what he meant. She could only lower her head, her mouth raining wet kisses on his shoulder.
He ran his fingers through her hair and trailed his other hand down her back to her bottom, pressing her center against his hip.
Heat curled through her like hot butterscotch syrup. Thinking that everything might be all right, after all, she brought her mouth up to his so that they could exchange openmouthed kisses that slowly became deeper, more intimate.
He moved his hands up and down her sides, sliding them over her ribs, her hips, her thighs, making her skin feel hot and prickly—not just where he touched, but everywhere. Especially that place hidden between her legs—that place that had begun to ache again.
Taking her by surprise, he rolled her onto her back and leaned over her, bringing his mouth to her breast, circling his tongue around the taut crest, then sucking it into his mouth. The wet heat and the tugging pressure made her cry out.
“Max, I feel like I’m going to explode,” she gasped.
“That’s the idea.”
She couldn’t follow his logic, not when her brain was shutting down. Her hands clamped his shoulders, because she needed to hang on to him.
“Annie, you are so sexy,” he murmured as his fingers slid between her legs and found the moist heat where her body begged for his touch.
He stroked her there, and she almost forgot to breathe as she arched into the caress. Without conscious thought, she moved her hips, rubbing herself against his fingers, desperate for what only this man could give her.
“Oh, Max.” The feelings he was creating overwhelmed her. He caressed her with his long fingers, dipping inside her, pressing against her.
Before, she had told him she was about to explode. It was nothing compared to what she felt now as one of his hands moved between her legs and the other played with one of her aching nipples. The touch of those two hands built her need for something just beyond her grasp, carried her up and up to a place she had never known existed.
“Keep doing that,” she gasped, hardly knowing she had spoken aloud. “Keep doing it!”
He stayed with her, kissing her cheek and her hair as she came undone in a burst of pleasure that racked her whole body.
She drifted back to herself, still in his arms. Looking at him in wonder, she was hardly able to believe the feelings that swept over her, that still came to her in little clenching waves.
“Thank you,” she gasped, knowing words were inadequate. All the stress was gone from her now, and it was tempting to close her eyes and drift off to sleep. But she felt the tension in his body, and she was pretty sure he hadn’t experienced the same pleasure she had.
“You should feel that, too, shouldn’t you?” she whispered.
“You don’t have to worry about me,” he said, the words brittle.
“Maybe not. But I want to,” she answered, then reached under the covers and found him. “Tell me how to make you feel that explosion go off in your body,” she demanded, although he had already given her clues.
He lay back, his breath coming hard and fast. Then he closed his hand around hers.
“This way,” he said in a strangled voice as he showed her what to do.
She did as he asked, watching his face, listening to the sound of his harsh breathing, thrilling to the way he responded to her. And when his body jerked and he cried out in pleasure, she felt tears gather in her eyes. Tears of joy, but joy mixed with sadness, because she wanted so much more with this man. But she was afraid this was all they would ever have together.
SHERIFF BERT TRAINER’S Glock was drawn as he pulled The Wrong Stuff against the dock with his free hand. When he climbed onto the boat the deck shifted under his weight. He crouched low, heading toward the interior of the cabin cruiser. It was a nice boat, he thought. Not the most luxurious, but a comfortable place to live.
Truthfully, he didn’t expect to find Max Dakota and his girlfriend here. Dakota wasn’t going to take the chance of getting caught flat-footed, not when the other side had declared war. But it was clear the guy had fully intended to come back here tonight—he hadn’t had a chance to tidy up.
The sheriff made a quick sweep of the boat, satisfying himself that he was the only one on board. Then he began searching the drawers in the main living area.
When he didn’t find anything interesting, he proceeded below again and began looking through the two cabins. In the smaller one, he found a bunch of bags from a cheap department store and new woman’s clothing neatly folded on the bed. It looked as if Max had bought his girlfriend a whole wardrobe. Too bad she’d had to leave it behind.
The computer was also a nice find. An expensive little laptop. He could take that with him and work on it at his leisure. But he was still interested in what else he might find.
He hit pay dirt when he found some papers stuffed into a drawer. Not in Dakota’s handwriting—he knew that well enough. He presumed it was the woman, Annie Oakland, who had put down a bunch of facts about Sea Kingdom.
Then he found another piece of paper with a symbol on it. An X in a circle.
He felt as though he’d suddenly stepped out of the warm Florida night into an arctic wasteland.
No. It couldn’t be. But when he blinked, it didn’t go away.
He’d been waiting for years to see the damn thing. Waiting and hoping against hope it wouldn’t happen. And now here it was.
IT SEEMED to Annie as if she had only a few minutes to snuggle in Max’s arms. Then he stirred beside her, and she sensed that he was getting ready to climb out of bed. To keep him with her, she circled his wrist with her hand.
In response, he brushed her cheek with his lips. “I’d love to hold you naked in bed while we both get some sleep, but I don’t think it’s such a great idea. We need to put some clothes on. And one of us needs to keep guard.”
“I can do it.”
“Later. I’ll take the first shift.”
“Okay.”
For a while she’d forgotten about the armed men out there looking for them. Now she realized it was possible that the men from the club could find their hiding place. So she pulled on a man’s shirt and shorts she found in the dresser.
Max climbed out of bed and dressed in the borrowed clothing he’d been wearing, taking the gun with him.
Some time later he came back. Outside, the sun was up, and she knew he hadn’t woken her to do guard duty.
He put the gun on the dresser again and laid an armload of clothes on the bed.
“You should have let me take a turn,” she said.
“You needed the sleep. You had quite an eventful night.”
“So did you,” she answered as she poked through the clothing. It wasn’t much like what she’d borrowed from Max or what they’d bought for her the day before. Everything here was gaudy, as though the woman who wore them wanted to call attention to herself.
She glanced up to see Max leaning against the dresser, watching her.
“Not your taste?” he asked.
She wrinkled her nose. Still, she didn’t want to wear men’s clothing when she left the boat, so she pulled on a pair of white shorts that fit pretty well. She had just pulled on a knit shirt with glitter studded across the front when a voice growled, “Put your hands above your head, and don’t move.”
Chapter Thirteen
Hands above his head, Max turned to face the doorway. The man standing there was wearing the uniform of a security company and looked like a bouncer a little past his prime. But
the gun in his hand argued for cooperation, especially since Annie was standing in the room.
“What the hell are you doing making yourself at home on Mr. Perkins’s boat?” the man asked. “This is private property. But I’m sure you know that already.”
Max relaxed a fraction. He’d taken a calculated risk last night when they’d needed a place to hide. Apparently this guy was conscientious about patrolling his boss’s property. But at least he wasn’t one of the thugs from Nicki’s Paradise.
Never taking his gaze off the gun, Max said, “I’m a special agent investigating a murder. Last night my partner and I were chased by drug dealers who have been operating in Hermosa Harbor like they own the place. We took refuge in this boat because it was a safe place to stay.”
The security guard snorted. “So you say.”
“You can call my agency and get confirmation,” Max said, keeping his focus on the man with the gun, but trying to look at Annie from the corner of his eye. She’d acted rashly before. If she pulled some stunt now, she could get them both killed.
The man still looked doubtful. “Yeah, sure, I can call the number you give me. But how do I know it’s not just your low-life friends on the other end of the line? I think the better choice is to call Sheriff Trainer.”
Great, Max thought, but he kept his voice even. “Trainer doesn’t know about my assignment. I’ve been working undercover.”
“Uh-huh. Maybe he knows you’re one of the drug dealers. Why don’t I just turn you over to him?”
Max remained impassive—because his life and Annie’s depended on his keeping his cool. “That would be counterproductive,” he said.
“I have a responsibility to Mr. Perkins. When he comes home tonight…” The guy’s voice trailed off, as though he realized he’d just given away information.
“I’m sure he’ll be pleased with your excellent performance,” Max said.
From the corner of his eye, he could see Annie’s body tense. But the security guard’s total focus was on him; probably he didn’t consider a woman too much of a threat.