by Lucy Farago
“Well.” He licked his lips, admiring the scenery. “Wouldn’t that be presumptuous of me? After all, I’m here. Stuck with you. And no one else. Condoms,” he said, running a finger up and down her wet folds “would mean I was planning on sleeping with you.”
“I … hate … you,” she said between gasps.
“Liar.” He flew off the bed and found his duffle bag. He opened it and pulled out the box Dozier had conveniently left him. He’d say this about his friend. He was on top of things. And soon, Blake would be too.
He returned to Rhonda, where he found her sitting up, her legs tucked beneath her, long black hair covering those luscious breasts. If he didn’t get that condom on soon, it wouldn’t fit over his raging hard on. “Oh lass, any sexier and my heart will stop beating.”
She smiled, pointing to the box in his hands. “Need help?”
“This would be the one time I’d not complain about your need to help. But I can manage.” Plus, he wasn’t sure he could control himself if she touched him.
Condom on, he crawled toward her, kissing and forcing her to lie back. Enough teasing, he wanted and he wanted now. She opened her legs and welcomed him home. He knew he wouldn’t last, but bloody hell, he was going to make her come. Even if it killed him. Their bodies met and collided, him thrusting, her receiving and reciprocating. Each plunge taking them deeper into that cavernous abyss filled only with pleasure. Her eyes closed. Her neck arched as her body squeezed and accepted, brought him closer and closer to the point of no return.
He rocked her gently, mimicking the ocean waves outside their berth. Then he moved hard and fast, his body too impatient. When she screamed his name, the look of ecstasy on her face so intense, he couldn’t hold back. His orgasm seemed to go on and on, his skin so sensitive, the sensation teetering between pleasure and pain. Both erotic, both mind-numbing. This was heaven. She was heaven.
*
Rhonda stretched from the tip of her toes to the tops of her fingernails. She’d give it to the boat’s designer. This bed was not only comfortable, but had enough space to do all kinds of naughty things. She glanced over at the man beside her, asleep, naked, and beautiful. She promised herself to stop commenting on how gorgeous he was, but she couldn’t stop herself from thinking it. She propped herself up on her elbows, looking down at their feet, sticking out from under the sheet Blake had thrown over them. Shit, even his toes were perfect.
He’d said everyone had flaws. What were his? Except for a small round scar on his left hip, he was physically perfect, and she didn’t have to go a round of Jeopardy with him to know he was smart. Damn, the man was even honest. He’d promised her no future. Which was fine with her. Not that she couldn’t see herself falling for a guy like Blake, but better she didn’t. It could only end in disaster. Regardless of what he’d said, he was still an aristocrat and she a stripper from the wrong side of the tracks. She was a good person, but sometimes that wasn’t enough.
Fear could be what was drawing them together. Nothing brought two people closer than someone wanting you dead. But for now, none of that mattered. They were two people with the same goal—stay alive.
Staring up at the skylight, she couldn’t believe where her life had taken her. How the heck had she ended up running from an assassin? She lay back down, wiggling her toes. What the hell, she felt too delicious to muck it up by worrying about the future. She turned onto her side to watch the blond Adonis sleep. He even slept perfectly. No snoring, no loud, heavy breathing, just the soft rise and fall of one amazing, sculpted chest.
She’d turned the corner, her stomach having kept down the contents of their dinner in bed. While the sway of the boat made her queasy, she no longer felt like she’d consumed a gallon of sour milk. Thank God, because that would have been embarrassing last night … twice … and early this morning. A warm tingle covered her body and zinged right down to her girlie parts. Unable to resist, she brushed a lock of fallen hair off Blake’s forehead. He opened one eye and she gasped.
“How long have you been awake?” she asked.
“Longer than you.”
“What? You’ve been lying there faking it?”
“Yup.”
“That’s dumb.”
“I’ve discovered it’s best to give a woman time to herself in the morning. Either to make a quick escape for girl things or contemplate waking me up. You didn’t seem to be in any hurry to get out of bed so,” he turned onto his side, “I assume you wish to go again?”
Heat flooded her face. “Presumptuous much?”
He pulled her in with one arm. “Are you denying you weren’t thinking about making love with me? I dare you.”
“You dared me last night. And look where that got you.”
“Yes, indeed,” he said, then pressed his mouth to hers.
Two exhausting but fun hours later, they were showered, dressed and eating cereal on deck. The sky, dotted with gray clouds, threatened rain and a very bumpy ride down the coast.
“How’s your stomach?” he asked.
“Not trusting those clouds.”
“There’s a little town about ninety minutes from here. It’s not much, but it has a dock and a nice old woman who runs a quaint little inn. We’ll stay there until this passes.”
“It is safe?” She didn’t want to jeopardize their lives just because she didn’t want to start vomiting again.
“If we’d been followed, they’d have caught up by now. It’s safe.” He swallowed a spoon of Cheerios and motioned for her to do the same. “Eat. You’ll need your strength.”
“For what? You said it’s ninety minutes away.”
“And what do you think we’re going to do in those ninety minutes?” He grinned wickedly.
“Listen.” She pointed a finger at him. “I’m not saying this hasn’t been fun, but you need to rest.”
“I’m fine.” And he tried to prove it by stealing a kiss.
“You are more than fine, but I’m referring to the hole in your chest.”
“Have I added sarcastic wench to your repertoire?”
“Not yet.”
He made a check mark in the air. “Done.”
“I should start my list for your faults.”
“I have no faults.” He ate another spoon of cereal.
“You said everyone has flaws.”
“I did. Everyone but me. I’m perfect. You said so. Last night.”
“Arrogant.” She made her own check mark sign in the air.
*
As they sailed toward the town where they’d spend the night, wave free, he showed her how to steer the boat, and work the radio and instrument panel. He demonstrated which button would raise the mainsail. A cheat, he called it, but necessary for someone who’d never sailed and needed to raise the sails. He started to lose her as he explained a jib and Genoa sail, then regained her attention when he demonstrated the winch. That she could understand. He promised, when the weather permitted, to teach her how to sail. She didn’t have the heart to tell him it scared the hell out of her. So she smiled and sucked it up.
“How much sailing have you done recently?” she asked, curious as to how or if his skills were rusty.
“Honestly? Not much. One or two trips to the Hamptons with friends, but beyond that, I haven’t had the time or the inclination.”
“But you said you sailed a lot in Scotland. Don’t you miss it?” She’d assumed people who sailed would miss the activity.
“Sailing was just another way to avoid my family.” He pushed a button, lowering the mainsail.
“How terrible can your family be?”
“Did I say family? I meant my grandmother. She’s too consumed with keeping the title.”
“But she has two heirs. The title is secure, isn’t it?”
“Yes and no. For now, it sits with my brother. But Colin doesn’t have any children and nor do I. There are also provisions in my grandfather’s will that need to be met. My brother was almost there and then life dealt him a b
low. If my mother hadn’t had sons, the title would have been lost. So now my grandmother has unfortunately shifted her beady eyes on me.”
The wind picked up and Rhonda shivered. What exactly could be in that will that got him so upset?
“She thinks I’ll drop everything, quit my job and do as she asks. I like my job.”
“How did you end up with the FBI?”
“I’d majored in international law, so when a friend of mine offered to pull some strings and get me an interview with Interpol, I jumped at the chance to leave. That led to a visa, New York et cetera and then the FBI.”
“So when was the last time you and your grandmother talked?”
“A couple of days before the wedding. A lovely chat it was too. Duty,” he said in an old lady-like voice. “Honor, the family needs you.” He groaned in frustration. “As if I could drop everything I was doing, and alter my life to fulfill my grandfather’s will.”
“Which is what exactly?”
He opened his mouth to answer when a large wave rocked the boat. Her stomach rolled with the surging water. “How long before we reach shore?” She didn’t want to get sick.
He glanced behind her. “I can see the shoreline now. Just keep focusing on the horizon. It will help you avoid feeling ill. I’ll take care of things.”
“No way,” she said, just as another wave hit the boat. She spread her feet out, trying to get her footing. “We do this together.”
“You think I can’t do this? I’ll get us there safely.”
“Yup, and you’ll be in one piece. I’m helping. What can I do?” She’d never sailed, but there had to be something she could do.
“Nothing until we get closer to docking.”
“Okay. I’ll make sure you don’t overdo it.” She grinned, flashing teeth. This wasn’t up for debate.
She sat and watched as the shoreline got closer. For the first time since she’d stepped foot on the boat, she appreciated the beauty of the vista around her. There was a sense of freedom, gliding over water, the wind in her hair. Minus the waves, a part of her could see how someone might enjoy sailing. Someone—not her. Give her solid terra firma and the contents of her stomach staying put any day.
It wasn’t long before they docked in the small harbor. She gave herself a big pat on the back. Granted, Blake’s instructions had been dumbed down with things like, use the big white rubber thing. She knew what a fender was. Someone else might get insulted at being treated that way, but she found it endearing.
She’d talked to Jason a time or two like that, uncertain as to how much the kid in a man’s body understood. When he was able to describe every instrument in the DJ booth, Rhonda had stood corrected. But Jason, being Jason, said it was all right because girls didn’t know much about electronic gadgets. She didn’t have the heart to tell him she herself had played music for the club a time or two.
She touched the crossed slashes on the back of her neck as Blake secured the cabin hatches. How different would her life be if Jason hadn’t been responsible for her injuries? It dawned on her that this was the first time she hadn’t thought of the incident as an attack. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, but had become so agitated with being unable to tell her his psycho daddy wanted the cross medallion Jason had lost that in all his confusion, he’d put the car in reverse instead of drive. He’d thought he’d killed her and had to bless her the same way he’d seen the scumbag responsible for killing all those women had. He’d marked her, slashed her neck in the sign of a cross. Then she realized that if her life hadn’t turned in that direction, she wouldn’t be standing here. Was that a bad thing or a good thing?
Blake took her hand as they made their way up the dock. She looked down at their joined hands. A sane person would be pissed at Jason at being left for dead, mutilated with internal bleeding. A sane person would understand that Jason’s actions that day had led to her to sleep with Blake. And because of that, she found herself running for her life. But when she looked up to see Blake smiling at her, she also understood that a sane person would be stupid. She wouldn’t trade how Blake made her feel for anything in the world. It might be short-lived—oh hell, would be short-lived—but she’d take it. He was the best thing that ever happened in her pathetic life. Whatever time they had together, she was damn well going to enjoy it.
Chapter Fourteen
Blake admired the sleeping beauty in the bed. Standing by the window of their room at the inn, he could see the storm had passed, every cloud gone. He’d have to wake her soon. The quicker they made it to the safe house in the Keys the better. He kicked himself for tiring her out. Being seasick was no way to sail, and all that retching must have been exhausting. But there was no choice.
The inn, a Queen Anne structure complete with wrap-around porch, overlooked the harbor. From their window, they’d been able to watch the storm. After a delicious home-cooked meal and a great bottle of wine, you couldn’t have asked for a more romantic setting. But honestly, stick them in a tent with a can of beans and a pint and he’d still have wanted her. He was getting in over his head. And if he didn’t do something about it, he might end up hurting her.
She said she understood, knew the conditions of their romantic adventure, and under other circumstances they might have been able to pull it off. They could share a wonderful time together, then call it quits and go their separate ways. But that depended on time. The longer they spent together, the harder it would be to remain friends with benefits. And he wasn’t just thinking of Rhonda. He himself would get attached. If it hadn’t already happened. Rhonda stirred, rolling over, exposing one exquisite, long leg from under the covers. Hell. He was already attached.
The clock by the bed began to ring. He forgot he’d set the alarm. He ran over but was too late. Her eyes opened.
“Sorry, I forgot to unset it.”
Rhonda flipped over and stretched, her back arching, a lovely pedestal for two perfect breasts. He’d like to crawl back into bed with her. “You shower. I’ll get us coffee.”
“I guess we have to go?”
“Sorry, yes. I was going to let you sleep in longer, but now that you’re up …”
“Kiss me and I’ll shower,” she said.
“And if I don’t?” Not that he wouldn’t.
“Then you’ll have to deal with my stink all the way to the Keys.”
“I’ll just toss your beautiful ass into the water when you start to ripen.”
“What if I told you I couldn’t swim?”
That might explain why she’d been so freaked out their first night on the boat. “Then I guess I wouldn’t shower either and we could stink up the place together.”
“Ick,” she exclaimed, tossing the sheet aside and walking naked into the bathroom. She turned inside the doorframe. “You’re disgusting. What kind of king doesn’t shower?”
He threw a pillow at her head just as she shut the door. Yes, he was in trouble, because if a bullet didn’t kill him, leaving her just might. She was the breath of fresh air he hadn’t realized he’d been missing. And if they made it out of this mess alive—and he had to believe they would—his life would be pathetically dull without her.
They spent the next week sailing down the coast. And he was never more proud of anyone. She not only learned all the instruments, but sailed on her own. For someone who didn’t like being on the water, she was a natural.
“Would you ever have believed me if I told you you’d be sailing this thing?”
“Nah, I’d have thought you the crazy bastard that you are.”
“Yesterday I was stupid and today I’m crazy.”
“Check.” She made the sign in the air. “And check. You’re going to pass me on that fault list. And I didn’t say you were stupid.”
“Yes, you did.” He stood beside her now, proudly watching her steer.
“No, I called you dumb. Big difference. Stupid would imply lack of intelligence.”
“And dumb?” he asked.
“Lack of judgmen
t.”
He shook his head at her inane logic, but loving every minute of it. “I just don’t think peanut butter belongs on a hamburger. It doesn’t make me dumb.”
He enjoyed arguing with her. There was nothing like a good row first thing in the morning. Then he’d apologize and make love to her until she forgave him. His strength was returning. He didn’t know if it was because of their lovemaking or because he desperately wanted to protect her should the need arise. Whatever the reason, he was starting to feel like his old self again.
“You wouldn’t try the peanut butter combo,” she argued. “That made you dumb. You can’t say it doesn’t belong unless you try it. And let’s not start with all that eating spiders and garbage stuff. Those are not valid points.”
“Says you.”
“Says I. And don’t you forget it.”
He hugged her from behind. “Let’s add domineering to that list.”
“I’m okay with that one. I’d rather be in charge than have someone telling me what to do.”
He kissed her neck, finding that sensitive spot just between her collar bone and nape. She shivered, making him smile. “You didn’t seem to mind last night, me telling you what to do.”
“I knew that was coming. Add predictable to your list.” She elbowed him slightly, then stiffened. “Oops, sorry. Did I hurt you?”
“Yes,” he said, “and now you’ll have to make it better.” He filled his hands with her breasts, loving their weight. He loved it even more when he brushed his thumb over her hard nipples and she moaned, leaning into him.
“Are we anchoring the boat again?” she asked, her voice kitten sexy.
“Aye. I have it in mind to show you a better way to use peanut butter.”
Rhonda cut the engine and leaned over, far more than needed, to hit the drop-anchor button. It pushed her gorgeous ass into his crotch and gave him all kinds of ideas. He didn’t think. He just moved.
Placing his hand between her shoulder blades, he pushed her forward. With his free hand, he loosened the drawstring on the sexiest pair of workout shorts he’d ever seen and maneuvered them off her hips. She was standing with her legs splayed for balance and they didn’t make it very far. He didn’t care. He had more than enough room to do what he was planning. Cupping her hips firmly in his hands, he thrust his erection against her, letting her know this was going to be hard and fast. Then leaning over her, he unclipped her bra and caught her spilled breasts into his hands. He plucked her nipples and squeezed her breasts, as he continued to rub his cock against her ass. Her excited moans spurred him on. Reluctantly he let her go and dropped his own shorts. Already shirtless, he stood there naked behind her.