Shell Game

by Chris Keniston

  With the slightest of nods, she crossed the threshold. “I don’t even have a toothbrush.”

  Smothering a chuckle, he quickly turned away to close the door. “It’s too late to call the steward in here, but I’m sure we can separate the beds on our own.”

  The way her head spun around so fast he almost thought she’d seen a rat. The four-legged kind. Avoiding getting too close to her, he walked to the other side of the bed and lifted the blanket.

  “Here. Let me help.” Standing by the opposite corner, she pulled at the other end, folded it in her arms and held it out to him. “Where shall I put this?”

  “Probably under the beds once I pull them apart.” He reached out to take hold of the neatly folded spread, and their fingers brushed ever-so-slightly against each other. Her head shot up, and she pinned him with her gaze. The sparks flying between them were as real as the electrical current powering the overhead lights. And just as shocking. All he needed to do was take a step back. Okay, two steps. But like a stone sculpture, he was incapable of moving away. “I should get back to the sheets.”

  Her head bobbed but her gaze never shifted. She held on tightly to the bundle connecting them. Her plump lower lip moved between her teeth, and his mind ran to all the things he wanted to do to that mouth. And other places. His jeans grew tighter, and he knew without a doubt bringing her here had been a huge mistake.

  Drawing on every ounce of willpower he possessed, he forced his hands to fall to his sides and eased his way back to the wall. Ignoring the sound of her footsteps as she set the blanket on a nearby chair, he grabbed the pillows and tossed them over his shoulder across the small room. When he turned around, she’d piled the pillows on the blanket and was moving back to help with the linens. A flat top and bottom sheet in one hand, he pulled at the corner of the pad holding the two mattresses together when she sidled up to him. “I’ll fold those.”

  “Thanks.”

  Once again their hands touched and sparks flew, but, instead of pulling apart and stepping away, she swayed toward him. “I can’t do this.”

  Yearning fisted in his chest, and he closed his eyes, not sure how he was going to survive having her so close all night and so unavailable. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not.”

  Shocked by the words, his eyes flew open at the same moment her mouth pressed against his. Gentle, tender and too careful, but there was no stopping the fire blazing to life inside him. And there was no stopping his arms pulling her against him.

  In a flash they were a tangle of lips, tongue and teeth. Awash in tastes and touches. The urge to take, to claim, was overpowering all logic and common sense. At least what little sense he had left.

  His mouth traveled across her cheek, down her neck and back. Hands safely laced at the back of her head slid from her hair to caress bare shoulders. “Sharla.”

  His voice was rough at her ear. The warm press of his tongue against her jaw sent a rush of sensations straight to her core.

  This was what she’d been afraid of. And had so desperately wanted. Deep down she’d known the power of his smile would be nothing compared to the power of his touch. And she wanted him to touch her…everywhere.

  “Please, Luke.” The words came out in a low whisper ragged with raw need. It had been too long since she’d been held, touched and wanted. But nothing had ever been like this. Only a kiss and she was desperate to feel him inside her.

  His hands lowered to her bottom and pressed her against his erection. Lifting one leg, she wrapped it behind him, tugging him impossibly closer, giving her an added thrill when her name fell from his lips in an almost reverent moan.

  She had to have him now. Nothing else mattered. Not his past or his future. Rules she’d uttered only a short while ago to keep her heart safe were now shattered into teeny pieces and cast aside. Being one with Luke Chapman, even if just this once, was all that mattered. Nearly frantic her fingers curled around the edges of his shirt, shoving it up and over his head. Wanting to feel every inch of him, her hands returned to his warm flesh, lightly skimming from shoulder to waist, front to back. Stopping cold at the rough swollen line of flesh under her fingertips. Only an inch or so wide, it was red and puckered and recent. This was who he was. Is. A warrior. And—at least for this one night—she had to make herself not care.

  Focusing only on this moment, her fingers ran gently across his chest as she dipped her head to take a pebbled nipple into her mouth. So sweet. Licking her way around the darkened circle, tasting the tiny beads of salty sweat as she moved to his other side. Not till she reached the corded muscles in his neck, and felt the tension tight and ready to snap did she realize he was rigid and tense and barely moving.

  Stunned, she stopped and lifted her gaze to search the rise and fall of his features. His eyes closed, she stared until he opened them and looked down at her. Dark as coal, his gaze bore into her with such intensity she felt the heat all the way down to her toes. Only the gentle weight of his hands on her hips kept her steady on her feet.

  His eyes squeezed shut another brief moment. Sucking in a long ragged breath, he let his hand rise to sift through the ends of her hair. “I made you a promise.”

  Promise? Her mind scrambled to find some rational sliver of information among the heady fog of lust clouding her brain. I don’t want you to live in fear of anything. It’s perfectly safe. I promise. His words from earlier tonight, as she’d stood in the doorway, replayed in her mind. Dear Lord. “I release you from your promise. I’m a big girl.”

  She might as well have shot off a cannon. Before she could blink, his hands slid around and scooped her up off the floor and carried her to the unmade bed. “You have five seconds to recant.”

  “Or else?”

  His smile was slow to form, and, had she not already been flat on her back, the impact could have knocked her over. He didn’t need words. Undoing the snap on her bra, the tip of his tongue licked at the pulse point on her neck. When he nipped lightly at the same spot, her blouse came up over her breasts. He pulled away from her neck and took her top completely over her head at the same moment his mouth latched onto her breast.

  Heat and moisture pooled between her legs as she gasped for much needed air. A double assault on her senses, his thumb brushed across the neglected breast, and her hips rose from the bed seeking the feel of flesh on flesh. Frantic to satisfy the building need inside her, she reached for the button of his jeans and, fumbling with shaky fingers, undid the snap and tugged down the zipper. Using both hands she shoved and pushed at the pants until the answer to her prayers came free in her hand.

  Curling her fingers around the hard length of his erection, she moved her hand up and down, and nearly lost her grip at the firecracker of sensations pulling at her as Luke sucked harder and deeper at her breast with every movement of her hand. Not able to stand the torture any longer, she had to get him fully naked.

  Luke must have had the same thought. In unison they reached for the waistband of his jeans and shoved them all the way off. Her skirt and panties were next, and the bra, still dangling from one arm, found its way across the cabin. Next time—if there was a next time—they’d go nice and slow. This time she wanted hard and fast and now.

  His mouth on hers continued to play while his fingers moved between her folds. Gentle at first, then more pressure and harder and faster. He knew just where to touch to make her go mad with pleasure. Her hips bucking and grinding, begging for more. Wanting more.

  When she couldn’t stand the spiraling need any longer, she wrapped her legs around his backside and pulled him closer. It was time. “Please.”

  “Anything. Tell me what you want.”

  “You.”

  “You’ve got me.”

  “I…want you…inside me…now,” she repeated in a breathy voice.

  If only Sharla knew how badly he wanted to be inside her. But if this was the only chance he was going to have to give her the pleasure he wanted to, then he damn well wanted to drag it
out as long as he could.

  Watching her skin flush with heat and pleasure was more than he’d expected. Everything about making love to Sharla was like nothing he’d ever known. Her insides clenched around his fingers; her breaths suddenly came in short breathy gasps, and he knew she was about to go over the edge. The sight of her back arched in climax almost made him come too.

  Easing back on the pressure, using slow and steady strokes, he placed a soft, barely there kiss on her neck. And another on her chin. Then her cheek. And finally her mouth. Losing himself in a flavor all her own until she was once again grinding against him ready for more. Ready for him.

  Not wanting to separate for even a second, he forced himself to move just enough to pull a condom from the night table. Hurriedly opening the package and sliding on the covering, he positioned himself at her opening and with one slick thrust, buried himself deep inside her.

  A kaleidoscope of sensations grew to a fevered pitch until, with one last thrust, she screamed his name. A flash of light shone before his eyes like stars on velvet.

  Like a cat who’d had her fill of cream, Sharla immediately curled into the fold of his arms. Snuggled together, her head on his shoulder, his body shuddered with a different kind of aftershock. He hadn’t been with a woman in a while, but this was so much more than that. There was no holding back anymore. With every touch, every caress, he had till morning to show her how he felt. Because—whether she knew it or not—she was his now.

  * * *

  “Everything’s Coming up Roses” sounded loudly. Sharla rolled over into a hard warm surface. Luke.

  Breathing in her ear, he mumbled, “Your phone is ringing.”

  Warm and tingly sensations melded with hot and vivid memories from a short while ago. The last thing Sharla wanted was to break the spell and let in the real world. “It can’t be my phone. We’re in the middle of the ocean.”

  “Not anymore.” His arm shifted around her waist and tugged her closer. “We’ve docked in Puerto Rico. US territory. All our phones will work.”

  “Oh.” Rolling over, she slid her leg between his knees, her fingers all set to travel a path down from his hip when he snatched her hand.

  “It could be Sophia.”

  Nana. She didn’t even want to think about what her grandmother and Herbie were up to. All she wanted to do was stay wrapped in Luke’s arms until the ship returned to home port.

  “You should check.”

  “I know.” She resisted the urge to plant one small kiss on that spot just under his jaw and crawled over to… “Wait. I don’t have my phone with me. It’s in the drawer in my room.”

  Pushing upright, Luke scanned the cabin. Eyes narrowed, he seemed to be homing in on the sound. Stark naked he walked across the small space, cracked open the door enough to see into the hall and burst out laughing. “I love your grandmother.”

  Admiring that perfect ass in broad daylight, she almost didn’t hear what he said. As the words registered, she glanced at the ringing money belt in his hand and kept her eyes from roaming when he walked toward her.

  “I’m guessing Sophia left this for you.”

  Knowing what her grandmother and Herbie had been doing last night didn’t make her any less embarrassed at the knowledge that her grandmother also knew what she and Luke had been doing last night—and this morning too. Retrieving the phone, she hit Call Return.

  “Helloo.” Sophia sounded way too chipper.

  “Good morning, Nana.”

  “Sorry I couldn’t let you sleep in any longer. Heard from George. We’re leaving for the island tour as soon as the ship clears customs. Herbie and I will meet you two at the breakfast buffet in twenty minutes. We’ll catch you up then.”

  She looked at Luke and repeated in twenty minutes for his benefit.

  He nodded, smiled that grin that was ever so slow to appear and way too potent to resist, and closed the bathroom door behind him.

  “See you in twenty, Nana.”

  Sharla didn’t know what the hell she’d gotten herself into. And she had no idea if she needed to thank her grandmother or shoot her. Everything she’d promised herself that she wouldn’t do, she’d done. Like, never again would she take a chance on a man with a dangerous job. Someone who put their life on the line every day. And, if she’d had any delusion that Luke’s work was a glorified desk job, her recent discovery of the wound on his side was enough to dispel that fantasy. Yet she could no more have walked away from him last night than she could have stopped breathing.

  Making love with Luke had surpassed anything she’d expected when she’d given in to the desire she’d fought since the first time she’d laid eyes on him. Now every scrap of common sense she had told her to steer clear. Not to let her heart get more involved. Except every nerve ending she possessed screamed for her to spend every breathing moment of this trip entangled in his embrace. Lost in the taste of him. The feel of him. Indulging in the most pleasure she’d ever known.

  Oh, how she wanted to stay in his arms, bathed in that smile, listening to the sound of his voice hovering by her ear. But even if she gave in to the longing already burning inside her, she had a terrible feeling that the rest of the cruise in Luke’s arms wouldn’t be nearly long enough.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “I’m sure this is a typical land fraud deal.” Sophia speared a cantaloupe cube. “There are any number of ways he can run it, but my suspicion is the money is going to a bank account in the Caymans, and neither he nor anybody else buys an acre of property.”

  “You’re probably right.” Luke leaned closer over the table. He hadn’t had time to share what he knew with Herbie last night or what Kate had texted him this morning. “My contact at my office says the land known as Miracle Bend is marshland owned and run by the Department of Agriculture. There actually are local government officials who want to sell the land. They’ve greased a lot of palms under the table and have come damn close to pulling it off except for the surfers.”

  “The what?” Sharla asked.

  “Surfers. They want to keep the waves pristine and natural. Distressed over the impending sale, one of them somehow came up with docs from an agreement with the township and the US government making the area a permanent wetland. Since the initial uproar, the Sierra Club and a long list of folks with lots of clout have gotten on the bandwagon. There is no way, no how, that this guy can sell you a single grain of sand from that acreage.”

  “That’s what we suspected.” Herbie set down his coffee cup and looked from Sharla to Luke to Sophia. “Sophia and I have had a bit of a disagreement over how to go about this.”

  “A bit,” she clipped.

  Herbie cut her a censuring glare filled with a heavy dose of love, and Luke found himself envying the connection the two older people had developed in such a short amount of time. “Okay, we don’t agree at all. But since this is my brother-in-law and my problem, we’re going to do it my way. By the book.”

  Sophia rolled her eyes, blew out a sigh and grudgingly nodded.

  Herbie kept his eye on her without saying a word until she repeated, “By the book.”

  “Let’s get the skinny on this deal and catch the bastard.” He dipped his chin at Sophia then Sharla. “Sorry for that, ladies.”

  “I’ve heard worse,” Sophia answered at the same time Sharla said, “No problem.”

  “Then we’re good to go?” Herbie asked.

  All heads nodded in agreement. Herbie had a look of doubt that Luke suspected came from fear of what Sophia might pull out of her hat. Honestly Luke couldn’t blame him. That lady was something else. But he was more concerned about the lost look on Sharla’s face. They hadn’t had time to discuss any of last night’s surprises. Not making love, not his job and not her family’s unique business history. Though, based on Sophia’s brief explanation, he’d figured out Sharla was unlikely to have that much connection to the larcenous tendencies. It was no wonder she was less than sure of the whole plan. Not that what they had
could be called a plan.

  This was certainly not the navy’s way of doing reconnaissance. It wasn’t like SEALs to go in and just see what happens. He was used to having a crapload of intel and data before taking his men on a mission. But if he were going to be honest, even though this escapade was not the same as taking down terrorists, adrenaline was adrenaline, and bad guys were bad guys. Catching George Bailey at his own game was definitely going to be fun.

  * * *

  San Juan was a beautiful island. The ship docked in the old part of the city, affording the passengers an easy walk around the block to the narrow cobblestoned streets in search of restaurants and souvenirs.

  “I hired a driver and a van.” George stood by the yellow minivan cab. “It’s a short drive out of town.”

  The drive was indeed not very long. They’d gone by crowded commercial areas and fashionable modern shopping malls.

  But it was the pristine white beaches where the turtles nested that caught Sharla’s eyes. “This is gorgeous.”

  “Yes.” George beamed.

  The driver pulled around to an open bay. Herbie was first out of the van, and he held his hand out for Gloria, then Nana. Luke exited next and did the same for Sharla.

  When his fingers threaded with hers and didn’t let go, she did her best to block the memories of last night. Slipping off her sandals, she followed the others onto the barren beach. In the distance to one side, a small mass of land jetted out with a blur of buildings perched atop.

  “That’s the Miramar Resorts and Hacienda. Built in 1985, it’s the only resort within miles.” George spun about to the other side of the road. “Farther that way toward the rain forest, there’s a development of condos.”

  Sharla squinted into the sun. But there was nothing for her to see.

  “And over here”—he faced away from the Miramar to a vast expanse of wavy grass with the occasional scattering of a cow or two—“this will be the spot.” George rambled on about the land, the development, the plans, the cottages, the clubhouses.