by Judi Lind
“Yes, please,” Noah replied as he slid into place beside Keely.
After the maître d’ departed, he turned to casually study their tablemates. “Good evening. Noah and Keely Bannister here, and you are…?”
The middle-aged man to Noah’s immediate left extended his hand. “Hebert here. Willie and Florence. From Boise.”
“Boise?” Noah arched an eyebrow. “That’s a long way.”
Florence Hebert leaned forward, resting her sturdy forearms on the table top. “We’re celebrating our anniversary. Thirty years.”
“Congratulations,” Noah and Keely chimed in unison.
Willie’s head bobbed emphatically. “This trip was a present from our son. He’s a dentist.”
“Such a blessing that boy,” Florence said. “Tommy never gave us a moment’s worry.”
“That’s great,” Noah interjected, before Florence Hebert pulled out photos of the grandkids. Turning his gaze to the next couple in order, he asked, “And you folks?”
This time it was the wife who answered. “Nice to meet you. I’m Beth Gregg and this is my husband, Steve. We’re from Orange County.”
Noah recognized the name of the affluent suburb of Los Angeles. The Greggs were considerably younger than the Heberts, probably in their mid to late twenties, same as he and Keely.
The blunt-featured man who was seated to Beth Gregg’s left rose stiffly to his feet. When he stood up, Noah was surprised to see how immense the man was. Easily six-four and 250 pounds. Noah found himself warily eyeing the huge man; he could be a formidable foe. “Vee are Dieter and Maya Olstagen,” he boomed as he thrust out his hand.
Noah did his best to conceal a grimace when Dieter’s enormous hand clamped around his. He did notice, however, that Dieter was exceedingly careful when he took Keely’s hand, grasping it almost gingerly.
“Are you from Germany?” Keely asked.
“Nein—no. We are Swiss,” Maya Olstagen responded in a much less accented voice than her husband. She was a sweet-faced woman with sleek blond hair and a slightly buxom figure. A Teutonic beauty.
As he watched the adoring look that Dieter cast upon his lovely wife, Noah was reminded of the legend of Beauty and the Beast.
Conversation was halted while the wine steward took their orders. Then Fernando approached and distributed extravagant dinner menus.
After wine was poured, toasts were offered and the eight strangers set about the business of finding common ground. Willie Hebert was a supervisor at a sock factory in Boise. His wife Florence was a homemaker who spent her free time doing needle crafts.
Steve Gregg was a firefighter, and his wife, Beth, a fifth-grade schoolteacher. They were also celebrating an anniversary, Steve informed them shyly. They’d been married two years.
Now that the ice was broken, the table talk was lively and continuous. While Keely carried the conversational ball, Noah was free to covertly scrutinize their companions. Florence and Willie, Steve and Beth and the Olstagens—all seemingly innocent couples readying for a sun-filled week at sea. Yet Noah’s instincts, well honed from his years as a special investigator, fairly shrieked in warning.
The contact was on board, they knew that much for certain. It only made sense that whoever had been sent to keep an eye on them would want to be as close as possible. That made their dining companions prime suspects.
Nor could he rule out Manny, their room steward, or Fernando. Then there were the short-term friends everyone made on vacation. Any of them could be their quarry. He and Keely would have to keep their guard up and not slip out of character for a single moment.
“Und you, Herr Bannister?” Dieter Olstagen asked. “What kind of work do you and Mrs. Bannister do?”
There was a sudden stillness as Noah realized they had forgotten to concoct a unified background. He’d taken it for granted that they would assume Todd and Rosie’s identity as much as possible. Trouble was, he didn’t have the faintest idea what Rosie had done for a living, or if she even worked outside the home at all.
He started to fabricate a story, but Keely smoothly filled the silence.
“I’m a free-lance jewelry designer and Noah is the manager of a Computerland store in San Diego.”
Manager? He’d thought Todd was a salesman. Todd never told him he’d been promoted. Then again, how often did he talk to his younger brother? With a guilty start, Noah realized how much distance he’d let drift between himself and those he cared about.
“A computer store!” Florence exclaimed. “I’ve been wanting to learn how to operate one. Is it very hard, Mr. Bannister?”
“Call me Noah, please,” he said with an inward groan. “Check with your local computer store. Most offer lessons.” He hoped his terse response would quell any further questions about his “job.” His cover would be blown for sure if any of their companions asked his advice for their malfunctioning PCs. Around the office, Noah had the reputation of being “road kill” on the information highway.
Fortunately, conversation again lagged as Fernando arrived with their appetizers and didn’t pick up again until after dessert.
While the busboy cleared the dessert and coffee dishes, Willie Hebert leaned back in his chair and patted his stomach. “Whew! That was some feed, all right. I don’t know about anybody else, but if I don’t walk off some of this grub, I won’t sleep a wink tonight.”
There were general murmurs of agreement
Taking the lead, Florence slung her evening bag over her shoulder and stood. “Well, the rest of you can walk around the deck if you want, but I’m heading for the casino! Anybody else game? How about you, Keely, Noah? You guys up for a little blackjack?”
“No, I don’t gamble,” Keely said. A stricken look on her face, she blurted, “At least, I don’t gamble this late at night. I’m an early-to-bed type of gal.”
Noah hoped his face didn’t betray his thoughts. Rosie had been a gambler—that’s how she’d gotten into this mess in the first place. Keely had almost blown their cover—if the syndicate contact was one of their dinner party, anyway. Still, she’d made a nice recovery. With any luck, her slip of the tongue wouldn’t be noticed.
Rising to his feet, Noah rushed to pull back her chair. Giving the others a broad wink, he said, “Hey, folks, we’re on our honeymoon. I doubt we’ll be spending our evenings in the casino, isn’t that right, honey?”
She reached up and gave him a none-too-gentle love pat on his cheek. “That’s right, sweetie.”
As they were saying good-night, the sommelier hurried up, a bottle of wine cradled in his arms. With a flourish, he presented the French Burgundy to Noah. “For the lovebirds. We hope you’ll find your stay on the Empress filled with romance. Ah, here’s our photographer!”
The newcomer smiled in greeting. “How about a kiss for the camera?”
Keely blanched. “Oh, I don’t think…”
“She’s shy! Isn’t that sweet?” Florence Hebert chirped.
The photographer hoisted his large professional camera. “This is on the house, folks, no charge. You’ll want to show it to the grandkids someday.”
“Go ahead, Keely,” Beth teased. “We won’t look.”
Realizing it would seem unnatural for a honeymooning couple to refuse to share a kiss, Noah drew her into his arms. Tangling his fingers in her soft feathery hair, he tilted her head back, exposing her slightly parted lips, damp with…anticipation?
Then, incredibly, he forgot about the onlookers, losing himself in her dark eyes, smoky with an intensity he’d not noticed earlier; their depth hinted of secret pleasures. He sucked in a deep breath, startled by the dare so evident in the tilt of her chin.
Then his tongue touched hers and he was captive, even though he’d been the aggressor. He had no idea how long he remained her willing captive, but slowly, regretfully, he became aware of jovial hoots and catcalls directed at them.
Reluctantly releasing her sweetness, he drew away. “And that is why we don’t have time for the casin
o,” he said, wondering if Keely noticed the huskiness in his voice. Or if she, too, felt molten lava coursing through her veins.
WHEN THE OTHERS headed for the casino, Noah suggested he and Keely take a brief walk around the deck. “That’s the kind of thing lovers would do on their first night at sea, isn’t it?”
Still reeling from the kiss they’d shared, she didn’t answer, but fell into step beside him. It was a glorious evening. The moon was full and pale, casting its golden shadow on the rippling water. Dinner had been tense, tiring. She’d never imagined how difficult it would be to maintain the charade. And when Noah kissed her…
No, she chided, her reaction had only been a release of the terrible tension. And now? a quirky inner voice prodded. What was her excuse now?
She knew it was the wine at dinner, the balmy sea air and the gentle splash of waves against the hull all working their magic on her. Yet as they sauntered in the peaceful quiet, she found herself drawing nearer to Noah, wanting to bask somehow in his strong maleness.
And he did look incredibly gorgeous tonight, she acknowledged. His creamy white dinner jacket and black tie lent him a James Bond elegance she found hard to deny. While the younger Noah had been cute and sexy, this older, more sophisticated version was breathtaking in his appeal.
She was going to have to watch herself, or…A shiver danced up her backbone and rippled along her shoulders at the thought of succumbing to her traitorous desires.
“What’s the matter? Getting cold?” he asked.
Grasping at the pretext he’d offered, she nodded. “A little.”
Noah stopped and peeled off his dinner jacket then draped it around her shoulders. “It’s time to head back to the cabin, anyway. If anyone was watching us, we’ve either convinced them or not by now.”
“Good idea. I’m exhausted.”
A few moments later Noah slipped his card key into the lock and they entered the dimly lit stateroom. When they pulled aside the privacy curtain, it was immediately obvious that Manny had been in while they were gone. The wine was uncorked and breathing, a small plate of pastries was on the bedside table and the sofa had been transformed into a king-size bed. A bed that took up the entire living space.
A bed made for honeymooners.
They both stared for a long moment, then abruptly turned away and began rummaging in the built-in wardrobes for their nightclothes.
Casting about for a safe topic, Keely said, “I think dinner went pretty well, don’t you?”
“I certainly enjoyed it—found it quite…stimulating. Think we convinced them?” Noah asked with exaggerated blandness, obviously referring to the kiss they shared in the dining room.
Quickly turning her head so he couldn’t catch the telltale flush that heated her cheeks, Keely strove to keep her voice neutral as she changed the subject. “What did you think of our dinner companions?”
There was a long, tense pause. His voice suddenly as cold as the ocean depths beneath them, he said, “On the surface, they seemed like normal people on holiday. What was your take?”
She bit her lower lip and raised her fingers as she ticked off each couple. “The Greggs certainly seemed like your average Southern California yuppie couple. Nice, attractive—but possibly too normal?”
Noah leaned a hip against the television cabinet and nodded. “If I had set up this scenario, I’d want the contact to seem totally average so they’d fit in. Agreed. Beth and Steve are very possible. Next?”
“The Heberts.” She laughed wryly. “First of all, I’m glad they’re not my next-door neighbors. Can you imagine Willie and Florence popping in all the time to tell you about their darling son’s difficult molar extractions?”
He chuckled at the thought. “What? You didn’t find them scintillating dinner companions?”
“That’s no reason to dismiss them as suspects, though,” she said, yawning.
“Don’t do that!” he demanded, then yawned widely himself. “Uh, you want the bathroom first?” Noah rubbed his palm against the dark stubble on his chin. The faint scratching sound tickled up her backbone like playful fingers.
“No, you go ahead.” Keely moved away, dropping onto the edge of the bed.
He reached into a drawer and brandished an obviously new pair of candy-striped pajamas. “I want you to know I bought these for your benefit. I haven’t worn pj’s since I was ten.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I appreciate the gesture.”
“Don’t you want to know what I usually wear?”
“Certainly not!”
He shrugged and flipped the pajama top over his shoulder as he sauntered into the miniscule bathroom and clanged the heavy metal door.
Keely slipped off her shoes and drew up her legs, wrapping her arms around her knees. Her overactive imagination had already conjured up an interesting alternative to his striped pj’s. And she’d better just wipe that thought from her mind if she intended to get any sleep at all.
When he stepped out of the steamy bathroom a few moments later, his shirt was once again slung over his right shoulder. “I don’t have to wear the top, do I? I’d suffocate.”
She deliberately tore her gaze from his bare chest and washboard abs. “Wear whatever you like. Can I take my shower now?”
“Be my guest.” He swept his hand low in a bowing motion. “Which side of the bed do you want?”
Mocking his largess, she bowed, as well. “Be my guest. Your choice.” Grabbing the pair of thin sweats she’d brought for night wear, Keely made her escape.
When she came out of the bathroom, Noah was propped up on the right side of the bed, her favorite side, she noted. He was wearing a pair of aviator-style glasses and scanning a sheaf of papers. Funny, even the eyeglasses contributed to his rakish sophistication.
He looked up when she came into the room. “What about the Olstagens,” he asked abruptly. “You never gave me your impression of Dieter and Maya.”
“I don’t know. Somehow I don’t see a pair of Swiss nationals as our culprits. I certainly didn’t notice an accent of any kind from whoever whispered to me at the lifeboat drill.”
“What makes you so sure they’re really Swiss? Dieter’s accent was so thick it was almost a caricature.”
She cocked her head, considering his theory. “That’s certainly a possibility, but why are you leaning toward them as our culprits?”
He took off his glasses and gave her a long look. “Remember when we were all talking about our jobs and where we lived and so forth?”
“Yes.”
“So where do the Olstagens live—what city? What do they do for a living?”
Keely thought for a moment. “I don’t remember.”
He sat up and pointed the arm of his glasses at her. “Do you know why you don’t remember? Because they never told us, that’s why.”
“That’s right!” She stepped forward and perched on the edge of the bed near his feet. “Every time the conversation turned to Maya and Dieter, one of them would change the subject.”
He leaned against the padded headboard and slipped his glasses back on. “I say we put the Olstagens, or whoever they really are, at the head of our list. You pulled the sheet loose—cover my feet, will ya?”
Suddenly disconcerted by their intimate environment, Keely jumped off the bed and gingerly tucked the sheet around Noah’s exposed feet. Trying to regain her equilibrium, she pulled her own reading glasses out of her handbag and dug out a novel she’d brought along. With great trepidation, she climbed into the other side of the bed. It was king-size and Noah was reclining almost on the far edge. Still, he was too close; she could smell his freshly showered body, clean and very male.
Opening her novel, she tried to concentrate on Dick Francis’s latest racing mystery, but her eyes kept flickering to the man sprawled out beside her. After a moment she gave up and slammed the book closed.
He stacked his papers and glasses on the bedside table. “What’s the matter, can’t concentrate?”
&nbs
p; “You’re on my side,” she groused.
“Too bad. You gave it away. Good night.” He reached up and clicked off the small lamp above his head.
Turning off her own light, she nestled deep in the covers, certain his nearness would keep her awake all night. Surprisingly, Keely fell asleep almost immediately, as if lulled by his presence.
It was much later, when she felt herself being pulled toward wakefulness. Suddenly her eyes flew open and she was fully alert.
She stretched cautiously and stared unseeing into the inky darkness. She heard nothing and saw nothing, yet her heart was beating with the intensity of a snare drum and her mouth was dry and cottony.
Beside her, Noah was still, the warmth of his body caressing her flesh. But something was wrong.
It was then she heard the noise. A small, muffled sound, almost like an animal scuffling in the small vestibule by the door. Yet Keely knew instantly that no four-legged creature had invaded their privacy.
Someone was in their room.
Chapter Seven
Her heart in her throat, Keely started to slip from the bed when Noah’s hand clamped around her waist. He hadn’t been asleep, after all. Like her, he was lying still, waiting for the intruder to make the next move.
As her eyes adjusted to the dim filtered light, she could just make out the privacy curtain between the living area and the vestibule. The faint, furtive shuffling of feet told her the interloper was just beyond the curtain.
Again she started to sit upright, when Noah’s strong hand on her shoulder eased her back down. He was telling her to lie still and keep quiet, but every fiber of her being screamed at her to jump up, yank back the curtain and expose the person who was skulking in the darkness.
Then, over the drumbeat of her heart, she heard the faintly metallic sound of the cabin door opening. A sliver of light peeked beneath the privacy curtain, then vanished as the door to their stateroom whispered closed.
The intruder was gone.
Noah sat up and placed a fingertip across her lips, gesturing for continued quiet. Then, moving with the silent, deliberate stealth of a prowling panther, he eased from the bed.