She brought the towel to her long damp hair as he watched her. “So is he going to help us?”
Vik nodded. “If we last long enough, he just might rescue us.”
She smiled. “I thought you were in charge of rescuing us.”
He smiled back. “I’m passing the buck up, although you did a pretty good job of rescuing us too.”
“I did.” She went and lay on the bunk, naked. “How long do we have?”
He joined her, slipping his shorts off. “Long enough.”
When they were naked side by side, he brushed the hair from her face, running his fingertips along her jaw, her ear. “I should not be making love to you now.”
“You aren’t. Yet.”
“I should be keeping watch or doing reconnaissance. And instead, I’m…”
“You’re what?”
He kissed her. “I’m letting down my guard.”
Her hand slipped below. “Your guard feels pretty up.”
He grinned and flipped her over on to her stomach.
“Hey!” she called over her shoulder, laughing. “Watch it.”
“Oh, I am. Believe me.” He pulled her to her knees so her bottom was sticking up in the air as he climbed between her legs. “I’m going to watch it the whole time I fuck you.”
Like before, on the yacht, when he had taken her so deep. She widened her stance in anticipation.
But he didn’t. Take her. Not right away. Though she could feel his erection prodding the tender skin of her inner thigh, he didn’t mount her. She closed her eyes and groaned as his hands wandered along the curve of her neck, down her spine, between the cheeks of her ass. She shivered at his light touch, soothing and inciting at the same time. His fingers wandered everywhere but where she needed them the most, needed something.
Needed him.
Rotating her hips, she tried to entice him without words and heard his low chuckle. “What? I’m watching.”
“I’m waiting,” she murmured.
He leaned over and kissed her shoulder, his hands on her hips now. He tugged her closer. “For what? For this?”
The head of his cock was suddenly at the very entrance of her pussy, pulsing, nudging, but not going in.
“Oh, you’re going to be so wet and tight for me, aren’t you?” He kissed her neck and nipped her earlobe and she pushed her ass back, trying to seat him in her. But he held her hips firmly, not letting her, keeping his cock just at the entrance of her, rubbing against her wet aching flesh, taking his own sweet time. “Feel how much I want you, Samantha. How hard I am for you.”
“Please.” The word came out more breathy than she’d intended. And a damn sight more polite.
“Please what?” He pushed his cock in a little more.
“Fuck me.”
And then, as if he couldn’t take this teasing any longer, any more than she could, he thrust his cock all the way into her.
She gasped at the fullness, the pleasure of him deep within her.
For a moment, he didn’t move. “This is just where I want to be, Samantha. I don’t care what happens.”
Burying her face in her arms, she thought of what had happened. Of all that had happened. Bodies tossed into a fathomless sea or buried in soft wet ground. This man had killed, without a qualm, to protect them, to protect her. But it must have taken its toll. So much death.
He gripped her hips, as if he had to hold her there to keep them joined. And then he moved, slowly, hypnotically. She felt the pulse of him, the strength of him. So much life.
“I don’t care what happens either, Vik.”
This was just where she wanted to be too.
* * * * *
He hadn’t heard a sound. Not a single sound. That was apparently what mind-blowing sex did to you. Of course they’d been damn quiet too.
“Hi there.”
A red beam of light found the center of his forehead unerringly as Samantha started with a little yelp. He tried to push her behind him slightly while not moving the part of him targeted by that red light.
The dog started to bark. Where the hell had that mongrel been that it piped up and barked now, when it was too late? Some guard dog.
From the darkness, a familiar voice sounded. “I got to say, Vik, you sure as hell know how to land on your feet.”
The red beam lowered and he could just make out several dark figures, guns raised, pushing into the room, then the can. “Clear,” one of them called out and the lights were flicked on.
J.D. Kates removed his night goggles and grinned.
“Hey, J.D.,” Vik said mildly. “I was kind of wondering who’d show up.”
Samantha was quickly trying to cover her nakedness with the sheet they’d long since kicked down to the foot of the bed. J.D. politely looked away for a second and then to his men, indicating they should leave.
They did, out the window, on the ropes they’d apparently climbed up on.
“Miss Reynolds,” he said when they had, and the sheet was safely pulled all the way up to her chin, “your father is going to be mighty pleased to see you, although I told him that Vik here would keep you, er, safe. We got here as soon as Crenshaw gave us your location. I take it nobody got here before us?”
“Was that the reason for the raid tactics?”
“Yeah. I hoped like hell it was you, but we had to be sure.”
Vik nodded. “Nope. Nobody here but the three stiffs I buried out there. The radio crackled a little now and then, but I’ve ignored it.”
The mutt was at the foot of the bed now, whining, and he picked it up, a little mollified at its failure to bark now he knew the invading force was friendly.
“So maybe somebody’s on their way,” J.D. said.
“Maybe.” He glanced at Samantha practically hiding under the sheet and handed her the pup. “We’ve got to get her out of here.”
“My orders are to get both of you out of here.”
Vik was about to argue, but then just nodded his assent.
“We got a landing craft down on the beach. I’ll wait for you on the ground.” J.D. glanced at Samantha. “Her father is waiting on The Victory, Vik, so you might want to get your clothes on.”
“You sure we should go to The Victory?”
“Chaps got the warning from Crenshaw.”
“How do we know it wasn’t Chaps to begin with?”
J.D. shrugged. “I got your back, bro. We’ll make sure she’s safe there until her father can get her away.”
He winked at them and then grabbed a rope and climbed out of sight.
Only then did Vik stop to think what Samantha may have made of all this.
She was staring at him open mouthed, clutching the puppy, and finally said, “My God! He’s a friend of yours? What is going on?”
“What’s going on is that’s the task force sent to rescue us, or I guess you really.”
“A task force? I thought you’d called…I don’t know…”
“Another criminal?”
She nodded.
“Afraid not. That was your proud U.S. Navy SEALs, care of your father’s influence and my call to a friend of mine to tell them where we were.”
“But why—I mean, why aren’t you—”
“In custody?” Vik finished for her, pulling his pants on as she scrambled to put the dog down and similarly dress herself.
“Yes.”
“Let’s get dressed and go out and I can explain everything.”
She slipped her flimsy pajamas on and he found a tee shirt, long enough to hang to her knees, to pull on over it. “You can explain now,” she snapped.
“I’m an Interpol agent. I was undercover.”
A slap across his face was the last thing he expected to get at that news. He held one palm up to his stinging cheek. “Why the hell did you do that?”
“You were a cop and all this time you let me believe you were one of them? How could you do that?”
“Look, at the beginning, I had to do it. Both our necks
depended on it. You’re not very good at pretending.”
She pushed him angrily. “I was getting better. I pretended to like you, didn’t I?”
Vik looked at the bed. Well, if that didn’t beat all. He shook his head.
“I mean before. On the yacht. In the kitchen and everything. Not just now.”
“Save it. It doesn’t matter anyway.” He grabbed the rope and held it out to her politely. “Ladies first.”
“Get the puppy too,” she said sullenly.
Vik was talking in low tones to a man who looked like the captain of this ship, The Victory. From the little she’d been told, this was the ship Vik and his cohorts were supposed to take, a ship outfitted with Interpol tracking and agents. And instead, they’d stumbled on The Samantha first and decided to take that—and her—before Vik could convince them otherwise.
Now, hands folded across his broad chest, stance wide, Vik looked capable, official even. Instead of being relieved that he was “good”, she found herself oddly wounded by it. Not stopping to analyze why, she turned back to her father who was watching Vik as well.
“So was everybody else, the crew I mean, were they all okay?”
“Fine. Fine,” her father said.
“The puppy—”
“They’re giving him some food in the galley.” He jerked his head toward Vik. “Did that fellow treat you all right?”
She hesitated. “Yes,” she finally decided upon. “He did. Just fine.”
“Why were you in his bed?”
She should have known. Damien Reynolds always had his sources. Probably one of the landing force of SEALs had reported every detail to him right away.
“That’s none of your business.”
“None of my business?” Her father’s tone had risen and Vik glanced over. “I lose ten years of my life worrying about how to get you out of here and call in every favor I have ever been owed and when I rescue you, it turns out you’ve been having a romantic jaunt. Did you even know that man was a policeman or were you just showing your usual horrendous taste in men?”
“Hey.” Vik was suddenly at her side and it was apparent he had heard. “That’s enough.”
“This is a private conversation between my daughter and me.”
“Then don’t have it full voice in a room full of people.”
Her father looked around. “Will you excuse us?” he said politely to the others, who hurriedly exited.
But not Vik. He stayed right there. Her father raised an eyebrow at him. “Perhaps the meaning of private eludes you at the moment.”
“Maybe you could start debriefing your daughter by asking her if she’s okay instead of making snap judgments about what she went through. Christ, she could have been gang-raped for all you know.”
Her father’s face drained of blood in that second and he looked at her.
“I wasn’t,” she said quietly.
“But she could have been. She almost was. Not to mention almost killed more times than I can count.”
For once, her father looked contrite. “I’m sorry, Samantha. I’ve just been so worried. I don’t think I’ve slept an hour since those, those pirates showed up. I’m not thinking straight.”
“That’s okay, Daddy.”
Her father looked from her to Vik and then back again. “But you were in his bed. I guess I just don’t understand that.”
“Haven’t you ever heard of Stockholm Syndrome?” Vik demanded testily.
“Yes, I have. So my question would be what’s your excuse?”
“Stop it. Both of you,” Samantha snapped. “All you need to know, Daddy, is that Vik protected me. He kept me safe. He killed for me. And what happened between us is none of your business. And that’s all I’m going to say about it.”
Vik shook his head. “This a royal screwup. This whole thing. A year’s worth of work just lost. And the only good thing that’s come out of it was that Samantha wasn’t hurt. You should be kissing the ground in thanks for that instead of grilling her about who she was in bed with. She was brave and resourceful and she—”
He stopped, dead, looking at her and then, with a shake of his head, left the room.
“It’s just possible,” her father commented, “your taste in men is improving.”
Chapter Seven
J.D. was at the railing, smoking a cigarette.
“I thought you gave those up.”
He shrugged. “Nice little girl you got there, Vik. Fine catch.”
Vik laughed. “As if. Now she’s back with her daddy, I’m sure she’ll be jet setting and whatever else it is she does.”
“Not on a yacht, though, if I had my guess.”
“No. Probably not. She is a nice girl, though.”
“Nice? I heard a little of that back there. Sounds like you got a crush on her.”
“Yeah. Maybe. Her old man’s an asshole.”
“No argument from me. I just go where they tell me.”
“How’d you end up on this though? Don’t you usually work Mexico and South America?”
“When we thought we were going to storm the yacht, they wanted somebody participating in the raid who’d recognize you. Better chance you wouldn’t get your head blown off.”
“Gee. Thanks.”
“So you really think somebody attached to this rescue mission warned Visto in time for them to send those assassins?”
“I’m positive of it. The only question is whether that person is on board or not.”
J.D. took a drag on his cigarette. “Got any ideas how to tell?”
“I’m fresh out of ideas.”
Samantha’s father had gone off to see the pilot about getting off the ship. “Not to our yacht, though?” she asked anxiously.
“No chance. I’m going to sell that cursed scrap of metal first thing I do.” Then he added, “Assuming I get the proper price for it.”
Good old Daddy. Back to business as usual it looked.
“No, I’d like the pilot to take us to Bangkok if it’s within range. I don’t know. He seems awfully conservative. I couldn’t get him to even take off in a little rain. If he would have, we might have spotted you when you were still adrift in the motorboat.”
Instead of in bed with that man, he as much as added. Then he left.
She curled up on a cushion and gazed out the porthole. Maybe she should go find the puppy.
Some clean-cut man approached her, hand outstretched.
“I’m Avery Windom, from the State Department. I just want to shake the hand of a very brave little girl.”
She knew this guy was just trying to be nice, but his comment grated on her nerves. She’d like to see him driving the boat away while being shot at by assassins. He’d probably be livid he got his shoes scuffed up.
“Oh well, yes, thank you.” She reluctantly took his hand, noting his fingers were unpleasantly clammy. “I’m still just, er…” Her voice tapered off.
“Certainly. That’s more than understandable. I just wanted to introduce myself and say that if there’s anything you need, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”
“Do you know where Vik went off to?”
“The Interpol agent?”
“Yes, I mean, is that his real name?”
“I really don’t know, Miss Reynolds. And I’m afraid I haven’t seen him.”
“He’s up on deck,” a familiar voice said. “Father pointed him out to me just before he stormed off to yell at the pilot.”
Samantha looked up with surprise, but tamped down on it. Of course Michael would be at command central. This was important to her father—getting her back—and so it was important to Michael. The perfect CEO, he acted on his Chairman’s every wish and followed through.
Her brother stood in the doorway to the salon, hands in the pockets of his perfectly pressed chinos, the starched collar of his white shirt pristine. He was looking at her with one of those unreadable looks, which could spell anything from a long lecture to a dismissive comment. She hon
estly didn’t know what was worse.
To hold it off, she said, “Vik was yelling at the pilot of the helicopter? Why?”
“No, Father was yelling at the pilot, something to do with taking us to Bangkok I think. Vik, if that’s his name, I keep forgetting, was standing at the railing talking to one of the SEALs.”
“Oh, that’s right. One of them was a friend of his. Anyway…”
She glanced toward the porthole, as if maybe she could spot him, and so did not see the hug coming until it was upon her. Fierce, tight. Her brother hugged her as if he had thought he’d never see her again, as perhaps he had. She tried to recapture some of her revelations from the other night—namely, that she did love her brothers, even this most controlling, aggravating one—but old habits die hard. She was stiffer than she meant to be, although when he let her go she tried a tremulous smile at him.
“I really got myself into one this time, didn’t I, Michael?”
“Hey, kiddo, you had nothing to do with getting yourself into this. The boat was in the wrong place at the wrong time and I just thank God that Interpol agent was on board.” He held her face as he said it, staring down at her intently. “You are in no way to blame for anything that happened to you, during this whole ordeal. You’re a survivor, like all Reynolds, and I’m damn proud of you for getting through this.”
She wondered if he had heard she had been found in Vik’s bed and was trying to make her feel better. Again, she felt oddly defensive of Vik, as she had when she was talking to Father. “I couldn’t have gotten through it without Vik, the Interpol agent, I mean.” She glanced warily at the secretary of state guy, who was listening in on the conversation as if he was still part of it.
“Can you give us a minute of privacy?” Michael asked him, reading her mind.
“Certainly. Certainly.”
When the guy wandered off, Michael crouched in front of her and took her hands, which she was unsettled to see were shaking for some reason. “As tough as you are, Samantha, you’re still a very young woman and you have just gone through a harrowing experience.”
“Nobody raped me,” she blurted out.
“Thank God,” he muttered. “But if they had, it wouldn’t have been your fault. You see that, don’t you, Samantha?”
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