by Cherry Adair
“Come with me,” he told her silkily, heading around the corner. He had to get his hands on her. Now.
“Where’re we going?” she asked, falling into step beside him.
“Right here.” Right in the shade of the upper deck, where there wasn’t another living soul. For the moment anyway. Logan leaned against the rail, extending his arms on either side of his hips. He curled his fingers around the warm, polished wood and held on for the ride, which was sure to be bumpy, he thought with inner amusement.
Her amber-brown eyes narrowed to lick over him with cool suspicion. “What are you doing?”
He gave her a surprised look. “Standing still so you can kiss me.”
She huffed out a laugh. “Why would I want to do that?”
“To the untrained eye, I’m considered quite handsome.”
The lines of strain eased around her eyes a little. “To the trained eye, you appear to be delusional,” she tossed back smartly. But she didn’t walk away. Progress. “I’m hot and sweaty and I need another shower.”
“Kiss me first. Look, no hands.” He wiggled his fingers on the railing. He’d positioned himself in the least threatening, least aggressive stance.
She raised a beautifully arched dark eyebrow. “You kiss with your hands?”
“Not on a first date,” he told her piously, itching to grab her, hold her, and show her precisely what his hands could do. His fingers flexed against the unyielding wood on either side of him, but he kept them there with admirable control.
She rolled her eyes. A stray shaft of sunlight tipped her lashes gold, and highlighted her fine-grained, damp skin. Lust surged through him like a vortex, pulling him under. “One kiss,” his voice was light, but he felt the hard thud of his heart. “My reward for letting you win.”
She shook her head, biting her lower lip. Something that Logan very much wanted to do himself. Her eyes sparkled up at him, and his thudding, crazy heart did a triple axel.
“You didn’t ‘let’ me win, Cutter. I beat you fair and square.”
“And you did it with that bum knee. Remarkable.” He smiled, holding out his hand. “Come over here and kiss me, or I’ll think you’re chicken.”
Amusement faded from her features as she said flatly, “I am chicken.”
“You are the least chicken woman I know,” he told her seriously. But I still double-dare you.” He beckoned with one finger. “One kiss. The security guys will be sweeping this area in seconds. I can’t give you much longer than that.”
“You are so full of yourself.” She narrowed her eyes. “Put that hand back on the rail.”
Triumph pinwheeled inside Logan as he clamped the offending hand on the rail beside him.
She stepped closer. “This is just so anyone watching doesn’t think I think you’re … repulsive.”
The whisper of her breath fanned his chin as she moved an inch closer. Maddening woman. All she had to do was tilt her face a little … “That’s a relief,” he whispered, flexing his fingers on the rail, and imagining his fingers cupping the soft lobes of her breasts instead.
“I do have my reputation to upho—”
Her soft lips brushed his, and he felt the shock of contact right down to his toes, and in happy pulse points through his body like little starbursts.
She hesitated a moment, then closed her eyes and leaned closer. Logan smelled the clean, grapefruit-tinted perspiration on her skin, and then she swept her tongue into his mouth, and he couldn’t breathe, and wasn’t thinking of anything but the little sound she made as she kissed him.
The world went away.
Ten
Logan’s body radiated heat. Daniela inched closer, the animal part of her brain reacting to the scent of virile male. She wanted to climb inside him and pull him over her like a blanket.
Kissing him was sure to be a mistake, but her good sense was overwhelmed by his hot, lean strength. Consequences and regrets teased the edge of rational thought. She slowly brought her mouth to his. The time for timid tastes was past. She wanted a real kiss.
He tasted of coffee and expectation. Nerves fluttered in her belly, and moisture pooled between her thighs although they touched nowhere but their lips.
“Don’t go,” he murmured as she lifted her head.
Her heart was pounding and prickles of nerves danced across Daniela’s skin at the heat in his eyes. The breeze chilled the moisture on her lips. “This is—” Dangerous.
“Elemental,” he finished, voice husky, gaze steady as he met hers. His knuckles shone white as he gripped the railing, but he didn’t reach for her. “We’re in public. I’m not going to ravish you beneath the sky, surrounded by sparkling water,” he said softly. “Just a kiss, Dani, it’s just a kiss. Come back.”
It wasn’t just a kiss, that was the problem. Her mind stalled for a nanosecond. Had he called her Dani? She blinked back reason. Of course not. The man was addling her brain. He’d said “ravish” and she wanted to be ravished. She wanted to be naked with Logan Cutter on that big bed upstairs, wanted to feel his rough skin against her smooth skin.
She wanted … she squeezed the thoughts away, eyes closed, because he saw too much. Wanted too much.
And in doing so, made her want too much, too. Damn him.
Helpless to resist, she rested her palms on his chest. He went still at her touch, but his heart beat a rapid tattoo beneath her fingers. The hair on his chest tickled her palms. She went hot and then cold and then hot again as she brushed his lips with hers again. Once. Twice.
She’d already proven her judgment in men was flawed. But at least with Logan she was already aware of the danger. She’d be gone soon. She’d take this memory with her.
His pectoral muscles went hard as his entire body tensed. Daniela realized she was flexing her short nails against his skin like a cat. He growled low in his throat, and changed the angle of his mouth, taking control.
Everything around her faded. The sun. The shining water. The sounds and smells of the ship filled with people. It all went mute. All she heard was their syncopated heartbeats. All her senses were focused on this man. Here. Now.
Logan slid his hand around the back of her neck, then cupped the back of her head, his fingers tangling urgently in her hair as he kissed her with heat and passion, using his tongue and teeth to drive her crazy. His other hand, sure and insistent, skimmed over her hip to rest firmly at the base of her spine.
He lifted her into the hard jut of his erection, and Daniela’s insides went into a meltdown as liquid heat sped in a dizzying race through her veins. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him back with everything she had.
Logan made a harsh sound in the back of his throat, his arms tightening around her with steely strength as he gave her the real kiss she craved. Hot, devouring, all-encompassing, and more kiss than Daniela had ever known or imagined.
Intoxicated by his insatiable sexual energy, she kissed him back, tapping into stores of sensuality she hadn’t known existed.
She loved the smell of his skin. She loved the feel of him, she loved his taste. Eager. Bold. Delicious.
Addictive.
They were pressed together so tightly there was nothing between them but sweaty skin to sweaty skin. Her softness to his steel. Her heartbeat duplicated the rapid thundering of his. The sound filled her, spiking like small explosions of heat and light throughout her entire body.
Daniela shifted against him to relieve the ache in her breasts. The large splayed hand on her butt pressed her more tightly against his erection. He was strong, vital, powerful. She wanted all of that and more.
“Hey, Logan, I need—Oh, shit! Sorry!”
Logan broke the seal of their lips and it was like being doused with ice water. Disoriented, she blinked the world back into focus.
“What?” he demanded tersely of someone behind her. His fingers tightened in her hair, and he eased her face to rest against his shoulder. His skin was satin smooth, and hot under her mouth. She slicked her
tongue over his collarbone and thrilled when he shuddered. She did it again, and his fingers flexed in her hair.
“We’ve done a thorough sweep of the ship,” the guy spoke rapidly. “I think we can let everyone stand down.”
“If you think that, Jedidiah, then fucking-well make an executive decision and implement it.”
Jed said something, which Daniela didn’t hear as Logan tilted her face up. His blue eyes were navy and smoldering. The interruption had barely fazed him. “Where were we?”
Daniela went up on her toes, tightening her arms around his neck. “Right. Here.”
* * *
They had dive time after all. After sweeping the ship one last time, they’d unearthed nothing new. By early afternoon, the dive team was suiting up and sinking beneath the water to explore La Daniela.
Armed with baskets to load small items, and the blower to move the sand out of their way, Logan and Vanek went down first. They swam into the silky water, and for Logan it was like returning to the womb. Serene and peaceful.
Too bad he felt anything but peaceful after the call he’d just received.
While Vanek filled his basket with gold bars from a stash they’d discovered yesterday, Logan swam along the torn hull of La Daniela.
The storm had dashed her against the only reef this far-off land for fifty miles. She lay on her side, her hull ripped open from stem to stern. Her cannon had scattered a distance from where they’d been positioned. Time and the tides had untidily rearranged her so there was a debris field a mile long.
They’d already found gold bars, a few good-sized emeralds, and hundreds of gold chains. The big prize was the uncut emeralds the captain of the Nuestra Señora de Garza had meticulously noted on his manifest. Those, they hadn’t found. Yet.
Logan and his brothers had an ongoing bet. Whoever found the biggest haul had the privilege of running Cutter Salvage for the year, and a ten-grand cash prize. A drop in the bucket when one considered the sheer magnitude of their finds, but it made for an interesting competition.
It was fortunate that he’d always gotten the biggest haul, because Logan had no intention of giving up control of Cutter Salvage. The plus of that was, Nick and Zane would hate doing what he loved to do. It was a win-win. Still, he’d be happy to take ten grand from each of them—again—when he went home to see what the hell his brothers had managed to get themselves into.
Vanek pointed, and Logan shifted the blower where he indicated, keeping it steady as sand and small debris swirled around them.
He and Dani’s kiss had shaken him to the nth degree, but the call that followed had splintered that euphoria and brought him down to earth with a solid thud.
If her story about her family’s connection to the emerald bowl held true, he didn’t doubt Daniela had been named for the ship. But there was also a possibility that she wasn’t who she claimed to be. Daniela Rosado might not even be her real name.
Damn, how much more convoluted could this be? Logan liked simple. Straightforward. Nothing about his mermaid was uncomplicated. But hell, he’d known that before Nick offered him an interesting set of facts and left him to connect the dots.
Her mother had been born and raised in a small farming town south of Lima, father in South Dakota. His brother had offered specific place names of towns, but Logan was more interested in Daniela’s immediate past than her heritage.
“Okay, think that’ll do it. Turn her off.” Vanek spoke over the noise. His voice came through the mic in Logan’s headset as if he was speaking directly into his brain. Logan snapped back to his surroundings and shut his musings off for the time being. They waited for the crap in the water to settle before checking to see what, if anything, they’d unearthed.
His brother had given Logan a number to call if he wanted discreet inquiries made. Surprised at himself, Logan had called the number without a second’s thought. The call had clearly been rerouted several times, and he was told the nameless man would call him right back. The guy had called him five minutes later. And then again a couple of hours ago.
Daniela Rosado owned a successful art gallery in DC. Her passion was for talented new artists. In a small shop inside the gallery, she sold one-of-a-kind, locally made Peruvian artifacts. She was fiscally solvent. Owned the building housing her gallery and shop in an upscale neighborhood, and drove both an SUV and a Mercedes. Paid her taxes on time, and had a healthy balance in her bank account.
She was engaged to Senator Victor Stamps.
Man probably kissed hands and shook babies and looked charming doing it. Fine upstanding fucking citizen and shoo-in for president.
While he wasn’t happy with what he’d learned, Logan couldn’t see anything in that charmed life that gave him any insight into the real question: Who had put the wariness and fear in those big brown eyes? Her father? The senator? Her cousins? And why in fucking hell was a woman in line for First Lady dumped overboard in the middle of nowhere, left to die?
For a man who didn’t normally give a shit about answers, he sure as hell had a lot of questions.
His brother Zane asked a million questions of everyone. He was interested.
Nick could wear a T-shirt that stated, No Questions Answered Here.
And Logan’s motto was, Don’t Know. Don’t Care.
“Hey, man,” Vanek gave Logan a worried look through his mask. “You okay?”
Logan gave him a thumbs-up.
The senator from Massachusetts was at the end of his six-year term, and it was rumored he’d be running for president in the next election. The groundswell of support said he had a damn good chance of winning. He was young, handsome, charming, and wealthy.
Logan loathed his guts sight unseen.
Damn it to hell, Daniela would make an amazing First Lady.
Vanek touched his arm to get his attention; apparently yelling in his ear hadn’t done the trick. “Buddy, you look like crap. Let’s send the next team down to check that out. Go have a breather.”
“Sorry, just thinking.” Which at this depth, and in this environment, was not only stupid, but dangerous. Not just for himself, but for his partner. Logan shoved his speculation and opinions of the unknown senator out of his head. “I’m good. Let’s see what we have.”
Five fat bass lazily swam between them as chunks of vegetation and coral swirled in the water like a slo-mo whirlwind. Logan and Vanek angled down into the crater made by the blower, where items from La Daniela had scattered four hundred years ago.
The Czech grabbed his arm, and pointed. “Oh, man, lookit!”
Logan had already seen. Normally his heart would’ve sped up in anticipation. The area was ripe with a variety of treasure. The cannons were a given, but they’d leave those on the seabed. The rest were the spoils of the Sea Wolf. Scattered gold coins glinted in whatever light caught them, but it was the pile of tangled chains that drew the two divers over for a closer look.
The large box in which the jewels had been encased had long since been mostly devoured by toledo worms, but the overall shape of the container remained, making it look as though the chains and coins were encased in an invisible container.
He and Vanek hauled several baskets onto the dive platform, then gave Jed and Cooper their turn. At a rough estimate, the haul from this dive alone was worth a quarter mil on today’s market.
A good day for everyone.
* * *
He’d called her Dani.
Maybe she’d misheard.
No. He’d definitely called her Dani.
Daniela glanced through the window of the great room to where the guys were gathered, as they usually were, at the table near the dive platform. It was dusk; warm, and fragrant with the savory smell of the steaks Galt was cooking on the grill. Her tummy rumbled. It had been months since she’d felt anything as normal as hunger. Either kind.
She’d wanted to leave right after their run. Then it had been after lunch. Then it had been getting dark and she hadn’t wanted anyone to take her to shore
so late.
She’d leave first thing in the morning.
The television was on low. She didn’t need sound. The control was in her hand so that if anyone strolled in, she could switch to Sleepless in Seattle instead of CNN.
Victor wasn’t getting any airtime. Good.
How had Logan discovered her real name? She knew damn well she hadn’t dropped any clues.
He really was a dangerous man.
The dangerous man walked past the window outside and stepped through the door. “Dinner’s ready.”
Daniela unwound her legs and got to her feet. “Good,” she said a little too brightly. “I’m starving. Where’s Auggie?”
Logan’s smile was easy as he stuck his fingertips into the front pockets of his jeans. His hair was slicked back, still wet from a recent shower. His face was smooth from a recent shave. Lickable.
Only a couple of table lamps were lit, and his eyes looked like sapphires, dancing with humor. “I’m presuming you’re referring to the animal formally known as Dog? He’s been sent to his room for stealing your steak.”
She walked around the arm of the sofa, waiting for him to shift out of the way so she could get to the open door. He stayed planted. She stared him down. “Who said it was my steak?”
“Everyone whose steak it wasn’t.” He held out his hand, palm up. “Come on, I’ll share.”
Daniela hesitated. He seemed perfectly at ease and relaxed, but there was … an edge to him tonight. She didn’t mean to, but she looked at her hand resting on his palm. The difference between their hands was startling. Hers was much smaller and paler of course, but it wasn’t just the size difference. His was stunningly masculine, his palm broad, and his fingers long. It had the calluses and small scars of a man who worked with his hands.
Daniela felt almost dizzy with the need to have those hands touch her bare skin.
Crazy.
His fingers closed around hers, and he tugged her forward. His expression said he knew exactly what she was thinking, and he wanted the same thing. She didn’t resist. In fact, she had to resist acting as though her body were jet-propelled and leaping into his arms.