All his nest eggs put together wouldn’t be enough to save Mara’s film if her vicious ex meant to steal it from her.
She watched him with hope in her eyes, as if he could really be the star of her film. Well, he wouldn’t have anything better to do shortly. TJ shoved back his chair. “Okay, let me talk to Jared and Cleo. There may be a thing or two we can try.”
***
Oh, damn, she loved the man so much she thought her heart would burst of it.
Sitting back, Mara stared out over the ocean as TJ disappeared inside. He’d listened to her. He’d respected her opinion enough to go against his own wishes by turning those boxes over to a reporter. No one had ever valued her opinion that highly.
Mara sighed and toyed with her cold biscuit. Her head had just swelled with pride there for a moment. She’d revert to form shortly. Clinging to an ancient infatuation probably wasn’t healthy for anyone concerned.
TJ returned carrying his cordless phone and two more coffee mugs to replace the ones he’d smashed. “Cleo heard about the padlock on the office. I had to explain about the colonel. She and Jared want to stay and help me fight whoever shows up next.”
“What did you tell them?” Mara accepted a mug and poured cold coffee into it. She hadn’t forgotten the head-spinning kiss of earlier, but she figured it was safer not to encourage fantasies.
“Told them I’d taken care of it. With the boxes gone, Defense can search all they like. I have nothing to hide. Jared’s eager for any excuse to pull Cleo and Matty out of here, so he’s taking my word for it. He suggested bringing in Clay to help you, and he may have a point.”
“Little Tommy?” she asked in incredulity, remembering a curly-haired little brat with an evil genius for destruction. Thomas Clayton McCloud—hadn’t she heard that name recently?
Slopping coffee into his cup and leaning against the porch rail, TJ studied her. “Say what you will about him, but he can dissect a problem with razor-sharp accuracy. He’s a computer whiz with access to things I don’t even want to think about, and he thinks outside the box. We may be too close to the problem.”
“You don’t think my calling the investors will work,” she stated for him.
“Nope. Their money is on Sid and Glynis. You’re an unknown factor.”
“I hate it when you’re right.” She grimaced at the coffee and flung the contents over the rail. “So, where does that leave us? If I can’t influence the investors to get my job back, how does Clay fit in?”
“I’ve got one or two ideas, but let’s get Clay on this first. It’s too early in California to give him a ring. Can your people be trusted to keep the film on schedule without you? Or will Ian start running up expenses? Should I hire more security and block them out?”
She did adore the way he treated her as if she knew as much as he did and more. Why couldn’t she have found a man like that the first time around?
She had, but he’d walked out on her. She’d better remember that for future reference.
“I’ve reconfigured the schedule to work around the dig for the next few days while we’re waiting for the ship replica to arrive. I’ve got good people on this. They’ll be all right if Ian doesn’t interfere and my director doesn’t decide to create his own island idyll out of the jetty. They really don’t need me. I’m available to help you with your research, if you’d like.”
TJ’s smoldering gaze suddenly blazed like hot coals, and Mara thought she’d melt beneath the heat of it. She knew exactly where his thoughts had traveled the instant she’d said she was available. She quit breathing while her mind frantically sought excuses.
“We have a few hours before California time catches up with us,” he said without inflection, not moving from his relaxed position against the rail. “How would you like to spend them?”
Butterflies flooded Mara’s stomach. This was it, the moment of decision. Did she have the courage to take up the challenge? Could she risk her heart again? Court a third disaster?
What did she have to lose? Certainly not her self-respect.
Rising, she stepped so close that she pressed TJ back against the rail. His khakis rubbed her capris, and her unharnessed breasts crushed against his cotton polo. She ran manicured nails over his clenched jaw, and triumphed in the instant press of his arousal against her belly. She drank in the sea scent of his subtle shaving lotion and absorbed the faint tingle of stubble beneath her fingers. “Let’s spend the next hours as Scarlett and Rhett,” she murmured, standing on tiptoe so she could reach his mouth.
“That almost makes sense.” Without further quibble, TJ buried his fingers in her hair, lowered his mouth to hers, and set about devouring her.
***
The ocean breeze blew the gauzy curtains across the bed, cooling their perspiring bodies. Mara tried to clear her head and schedule the rest of the day, but the sensations TJ had created inside her wound her tighter than a coiled spring. The solid muscle of his thigh pressed against hers. Conscious that he was wide awake and breathing as hard as she was, she couldn’t think of anything else but the perfection of his lovemaking.
He’d carried her up the damned stairs. She wasn’t any petite lightweight, but he’d carried her up the stairs as if she truly was Scarlett and he was Rhett.
And then he’d slowly made love to her as if they were the last two people on earth and had the rest of their lives to do it in. It made her realize Sid and Irving had always made love to her as if they’d penciled it into their day along with their vitamins and lunch.
She didn’t think there was a place on her body that TJ hadn’t touched or kissed. Just thinking of what he’d done made the juices run.
“Did I see a whole box of Trojans in that drawer?” she inquired, staring at the shadowed ceiling, afraid to gaze over the vast expanse of bronzed chest so close beside her she could feel his heat.
“Yeah, I wasn’t taking any chances.” He didn’t turn either, but his thigh inched closer to hers.
Daringly, Mara dropped her gaze to his groin area. “I think it will take a very big warrior to cover that.”
“As long as it fits.” TJ shifted abruptly, hauled her on top of his hard abdomen, and drank in the sight of her with a ravenous gaze.
Excitement pooled in the pit of Mara’s belly as TJ curled reverent hands around her breasts and studied her otherwise skinny frame. She saw nothing but approval in his eyes, and desire bubbled through her blood.
Constantina had been right. It took a hot man to melt her cold reserve. She needed to feel desired before she could desire in return. TJ made her feel as if she really were the most beautiful woman in the world.
“I think I’ll burn those harnesses you call bras,” he said gravely, caressing her nipples into aching buds of need. “This is what I want to see when I look at you.”
She’d damned well burn the bras herself if it meant he’d keep touching her like that. “I can knot my hair, wear a lab coat, and not wear any underwear,” she whispered wickedly, leaning over to nibble his lip.
“Promise?” he demanded, arching his hips so she could feel the brush of his erection against her buttocks.
“Oh, yeah.” Fastening her mouth to his, Mara rose up on her knees and adjusted her position.
TJ swallowed her gasp as he caught her hips and thrust deep inside her again.
They’d waited seventeen years for this moment. There was no need to hurry.
***
The ringing of the phone echoed up from both the kitchen and the receiver they’d left outside.
“How long did it take for them to find this number?” Mara murmured sleepily into TJ’s shoulder.
“It’s unlisted, but the colonel found Jared’s.” TJ didn’t want to think about the colonel or the rest of the world right now. He was busy having an out-of-body experience. Or maybe an out-of-mind experience. Whatever, he floated weightlessly on a river of satiation. “Maybe it’s a wrong number.”
Mara snuggled closer, and the sensation of her arou
sed nipples stroking his side hit a nerve running straight to his groin.
“It’s either Jared or Clay,” he decided. “They have no respect.”
She pressed a kiss to his nipple that had his hair standing on end again.
“Your stomach’s rumbling,” she murmured. “You’ll have to get up and answer it just so you’ll get fed.”
“I can eat anytime.”
“The corollary being we can’t mate like bunnies anytime?”
TJ chuckled at her warped humor and rolled away from temptation to fish on the floor for his shorts.
And yelped when she nipped at his derriere.
“Bunnies must have teeth for some reason,” she said innocently, rolling from the bed on the other side.
He was losing his head over a crazy woman.
He’d killed his sane, logical career. Why not indulge in insanity for a while?
Chapter Twenty-two
“This better be good,” TJ growled into the receiver he’d grabbed from the porch and carried to the kitchen.
“Jared said this is my opportunity to watch the Intimidator in action.”
“Clay.” TJ halted Mara’s teasing kisses at the back of his neck by catching her waist and lifting her to the kitchen counter. He retreated to the stove with the phone while she stuck out her tongue at him. Looking at Mara all tousled and wearing nothing but one of his shirts was not conducive to concentration. “What can I do for you, bro?”
His youngest brother made a rude noise. “Don’t give me that condescending crap. While you’ve been saving the world, I’ve been taking care of myself. I’m just bored and looking for some fun and games.”
TJ ran his hand over the back of his neck while Mara watched him with eager, expectant eyes. He didn’t know a damned thing about the film industry, but Clay did. He lived in L.A., worked on computer film animation, and knew everyone. “What do you know about Sid Rosenthal?” Mara’s eyes widened but TJ didn’t answer the question in them.
Clay made another rude noise. “He digs young girls and blows his nose. Why?”
TJ grimaced, wishing he didn’t have to do this with Mara listening. “It’s a long story. How bored are you?”
“Bored enough to fly out there. Jared said he and Cleo are doing the Disney thing, and I could crash in their place. Will that help?”
Clay had been more cynical than usual since the dot.com collapse had taken out his high-tech software business. Maybe he needed this distraction.
“It might,” he grudgingly admitted. “Weather’s fine. You can keep your tan in shape. Find out what you can on Rosenthal first.”
“Can’t ask for more. See you soon.” Clay hung up with his usual lack of polite farewell.
Take care of Mara’s problem first, TJ figured. The vultures wouldn’t start circling his head until Roger had time to sort through the boxes. Having Clay at his side when the shit hit might not accomplish anything but family solidarity, but it sounded as if Clay could use a little of that, too.
“Well?” Mara leaped from the counter, bare legs flashing as TJ hung up the phone.
“He’s bored and coming out to visit.” TJ would worry about his genius brother’s other agendas when he arrived.
“Why?”
“With Clay, it’s hard to say. He doesn’t like your ex, though.” TJ watched her carefully. Intimacy didn’t give him the ability to read her mind. She’d done a lot of living since he’d known her last. He had difficulty imagining the Patsy he’d known hooked up with mean-spirited assholes like her exes.
Mara shrugged and began filling the coffeemaker. “Sid has a brilliant mind. He’s just snorted it down the drain. One of his films bombed a few years back and rather than learning from the experience, he crashed and burned. Stupid me, I thought I could save him. That was before his baby starlet phase.”
He heard the betrayal and disappointment in her voice. TJ’s instant reflex was to smash Sid’s face in, but he was learning that he wasn’t the sole arbiter of justice in the world. “I’ve got to go into town and find out what’s happening with my office. Want to come with me? Or stay here and call your money men?”
She eyed him with a speculation that made him aware she was wearing his shirt, and he wasn’t. Damn, but he’d never had a woman affect him like this one.
“I’ll do some more research on the island and hope I can solve your mystery. I want to be able to move in my trucks as soon as I settle this fight with Sid.”
“It’s still a gravesite,” he warned, glad to be back on familiar grounds.
“No, it’s not. It’s a bunch of bones washed up by a hurricane,” she countered, filling her cup and dancing off while he filled his. “I’m moving in my trucks, McCloud,” she sang as she raced for the stairs.
Damn, but he just might let her if she kept that up.
***
“Search the office,” TJ offered blandly to the government lackey waiting for him in town. “Can’t imagine what you think you’ll find aside from old bones, but I have nothing to hide.” He tried not to think of the box still in his trunk. He needed to get that to Roger when he had a chance. If the Defense Department was sending spooks down to collect material, things were looking far darker than he’d expected.
He didn’t want to spend half his life in jail for concealing evidence or for aiding and abetting criminals. Career suicide was one thing, but with Mara in his life now, he was damned well ready to fight for his freedom. With a possible enemy in sight, adrenaline shot through his bloodstream. He wouldn’t let the colonel or anyone else take him down with them if he could help it.
“It’s just routine,” the man in the brown suit claimed as he shoved past the office door and scanned the dismal interior. “The colonel said he’d given you some national-security material to destroy, but we don’t have a record that it went through normal channels.”
“I left it with military staff, as instructed.” TJ scanned the office rapidly, praying Mara hadn’t left any notebooks lying about. “I’ve been in Africa and several other places since then. I’m certainly not sitting on anything.” Anymore, he amended silently.
“McCloud!”
TJ turned to intercept the suave People reporter while Brown Suit poked through his boxes of reference material. Today, Paul Harris wore Tommy Hilfiger shorts and a Hawaiian print shirt.
“Any comment on your relationship with Mara Simon?”
“She’s an old friend,” TJ answered solemnly, crossing his arms and guarding the doorway.
“I heard Sid fired her from the film because of you.” The reporter scribbled in a notebook and flipped a page for his list of questions.
“You heard wrong.” TJ wasn’t loquacious on his best days. He could be downright contrary on his worst.
“The production crew said she left with you. Where is she now?”
“Do you know where your significant other is right now?”
Harris grinned. “Tanning at poolside. Want to try again?”
“Nope. If you’ll excuse me, I have company.” TJ closed the door in the reporter’s smirking face and followed Brown Suit back to the inner office.
“I trust you didn’t frighten off my secretary.” TJ scanned the floor, not finding anything out of order.
“I told her you’d call when you want her to come back in.”
“She’s a kid and not the world’s most efficient receptionist, but I’m sure she can tell you that there’s nothing in here but the work from my dig site.” Knock on wood that Brown Suit wasn’t interested in digging deep enough to know the kid had just started. If the spook started talking to Leona, he was in deep shit.
He was already in deep shit. He’d just be deeper.
“Yeah, well, you know the routine. Sorry to bother you. That the skeleton you dug up?” He pointed to the skeleton hanging in the corner, one of its fingers raised.
“This is what I’m working on.” TJ showed him the deteriorating gray bones in his work box. “In the ground for maybe sixty y
ears, male, mid-twenties, Caucasian. Sound like anyone you know?”
“You tell all that from those bits of bone?” Impressed, Brown Suit shrugged and walked away. “Guess you got more to do than play cops and robbers with old files. Sorry about the inconvenience.”
TJ had been itching for a confrontation, but he supposed keeping things quiet would be preferable—for a while. They’d be down on him like a ton of bricks once the story broke. What the hell monster had he let loose by trusting Roger with those boxes?
“No problem. Give my regards to the colonel.” Letting the spook out, TJ breathed a sigh of relief. Alone now, he could plan his battle with Sid unhampered.
***
It took TJ the better part of the day to call Clay back and put his scheme in motion, but he’d done what he could by the time Mara returned to the office with a file of notes she’d taken at the library and excitement laughing in her eyes. She must have found something in her research.
He figured he must have looked grim when she entered because she wrinkled her upturned nose at him, made her fish face, and kissed his cheek. She dodged when he reached for more.
“There are reporters with television cameras out there, and I’m not appearing in the street looking as if I’ve just got out of bed,” she said in explanation when TJ raised his eyebrow at her.
She’d pulled her curls into a thick swirl at the back of her head, covered them with a wide-brimmed floppy hat, and donned a pair of overlarge sunglasses in classic movie-star-in-disguise manner. TJ contemplated pouty lips bereft of her usual red lipstick and lost the path of his thoughts. “You look as if you just got off the plane from Hollywood.”
“I won’t for long if I let you kiss me,” she replied with impudence. “Breakfast is the only meal I cook. Where shall we eat?”
Under the stars, with no one else around. Realizing he was staring at her as if famished, TJ pulled back. The pulse in his temple accelerated, and his mouth dried. He was a man of few words, and all of them fled beneath her laughing gaze. How the devil did she do that?
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