Her canvas bag lay beside the bed. Averting her gaze from the ruffled bedcovers, she grabbed it in her left hand. “I’m going out.”
“Where?”
He had no right to demand answers. Her hand fisted so hard, the canvas strap of the bag dug into her palm. “I’m going to breakfast. I missed dinner and I’m starving.”
“Wait five minutes, and I’ll come with you.”
Emma stared at him incredulously. Obtuse, thick head. Did he want her to draw attention to them by having the mother of all temper tantrums in public? Because that was a dead cert—if he didn’t quit with the big, bad private investigator act.
“I don’t think so.” Emma terminated the conversation by leaving and shutting the door quietly behind her.
She stomped along the passageway to the front entrance. Despite informing Jack of her intentions to go to breakfast, she headed straight for the gym to start some subtle questioning.
The quicker they solved the case, the sooner she could head home to lick her wounds. The thought gave her pause.
She’d failed in her mission.
Emma glared at the innocent gardener trimming shrubs and stormed down the path to the main part of the resort. Bypassing the restaurant, she continued to the gym.
A blond male, a few years younger than she, manned the reception desk. Highly tanned and muscled, he looked as if he belonged in a fitness ad for a magazine.
“Morning. Can I help you?”
Emma cast aside her sudden doubts. “I’ve never been to a gym before. I thought this week would be a good time to see if I’d like it before I pay for a membership at home. How do I start?” She’d scope out the territory before she asked questions.
“How about a tour of the facilities? How does that sound?” The receptionist—his name badge read Allen—gave her his whole attention, making her feel important and soothing her wounded spirit.
Emma shook free of his charismatic spell and nodded. “That sounds perfect.”
Allen picked up a phone and minutes later another employee who could have been Allen’s twin joined them.
Emma was introduced to various machines and shown the aerobics area, the weights area, the indoor swimming pool where a vigorous water aerobics session was underway. Once again, the instructor was an Allen clone but with red hair this time.
“You all look very fit.” Emma batted her eyelashes at her guide. She paused, hoping he’d pick up the conversation batten. If not, she’d play bimbo and ask stupid questions.
“Most of us are in training. Mahoney Resort enters a triathlon team in the Ironman competitions. I made the team,” he added with modesty.
“That’s awesome.” She fluttered her lashes and peeked at him to judge the effect. Yes, he was lapping up her act. She let a tiny gurgle escape and flashed a grin. “What’s a triathlon?”
“It’s a competition. Competitors swim, they do a bike ride and then they have to run. Have you heard of Martin Hamilton? He won a gold medal at the Olympic games for New Zealand.”
“That’s cool,” Emma cooed, closing the small gap between them. “Have you won a medal?”
“I’m going to one day,” he said with confidence.
How? How did he know that? Or was he just psyching himself up? Positive thinking and all that? Emma thought rapidly, unsure of how hard to push. “Have you been training hard?” Her voice was breathless as she ran her fingers along his bulging biceps. The man was gorgeous with his grin and muscular physique, a real hottie, yet she didn’t feel a thing.
He wasn’t Jack.
Emma’s mouth firmed at the thought. Jack didn’t deserve her loyalty. And now she understood why he had a procession of babes waltzing through his life. Jack didn’t want to commit. He was a coward.
Her guide frowned, and Emma realized she was falling out of character. “Do you?” she prodded.
“I train each day and…” He paused to glance over her shoulder. “I have a special diet.”
“Ohhh.” Emma rubbed her finger back and forward across his tanned upper arm. “It’s working.” What special diet? she wondered with a trace of frustration. Perhaps if she shook him, she’d rattle the answer loose faster. Flirting wasn’t helping. “I’d like to muscle up. Is there a fast way to do it?”
“You’d need to train every day for a few hours.” His gaze held clear doubt. “Protein shakes might help. And you’d have to diet.”
“Diet?” Bloody cheek of the man.
He shrugged. “The changing rooms and showers are in there. Ladies to the left and men to the right. And that’s about everything.” He halted by a row of stationary bikes facing a large video screen.
People drifted into the gym in ones and twos. Emma was pleased to see there weren’t many people in bright-colored spandex, the vision that popped into her head whenever she thought of a gym. Most people wore comfortable shorts and a T-shirt similar to her sleeveless top and stretchy back shorts.
Emma smiled brightly. “Okay. I’m interested. What do I do next?” She didn’t intend to leave until she had answers.
“We do a fitness check. I can schedule one for you. I have a personal trainer session in five minutes, otherwise I’d offer to do the check for you now.”
“Okay.” Great. A fitness check. Emma hoped it didn’t involve too much exertion. Her muscles were sore from the sexual gymnastics of the night before.
They walked over to the receptionist’s desk, and Emma scanned the gym. There were five, no, six beefy young men wearing the resort’s uniform. Not a scrawny specimen among them. Even the two women employees she saw bore impressive muscles but it might be a coincidence. Jeesh, how was she going to discover the truth? Perhaps they needed to check the premises during the middle of the night when no one was around. Maybe the offices and places that were off-limits to guests.
“Jamie can do a fitness test, but she’ll be another five minutes since she’s with a client.”
“That’s fine,” Emma said.
“Come with me, and I’ll show you where to wait.”
Emma followed her guide through a narrow corridor she hadn’t noticed earlier. They passed two offices then came to a third room. Her guide opened the door and gestured Emma inside.
There were charts on the wall with illustrations depicting people doing different warm-up exercises.
“See if you can follow the diagrams and do a few stretches while you’re waiting for Jamie. She won’t be long.”
“Thanks for the tour.” Emma smiled and fluttered her lashes, keeping up the image of witless to the end.
Her guide left, leaving the door slightly ajar. Emma debated if five minutes would be long enough to explore the offices next door and decided to risk detection. She was halfway out the door when she heard several masculine voices in the office close to where she stood. Bother. Emma dithered, wondering what to do.
Raucous laughter suddenly filled the air.
“The couple in room 243?”
Emma stiffened. Shit, were they under investigation? She edged out, flattening against the beige walls so she could eavesdrop.
“Oh, yeah,” a loud voice said. “They rut like rabbits all night long.”
Emma’s mouth dropped open. Rabbits? Someone had heard them? How mortifying!
“What do they look like?”
“Both tall. The guy looks dangerous. Not the sort to meet in a blind alley on a dark night.”
“What about his partner?”
“A bit big for my tastes.”
“What are you talking about, dickhead? Her ass is fuckable,” a third person said. “I’d ram one right up her anytime.”
Emma’s jaw sagged so much it was a wonder it didn’t hit the ground. These men had not only heard them, they’d watched them as well. But how? Why? Emma groped for understanding.
“How’s the take for this couple?”
“Through the bloody roof. We’ve earned more in three days than we made for the whole of last week.”
People paid to w
atch her and Jack have sex? That was disgusting. Heat flooded her body followed closely by anger. Making love to Jack was private, dammit. Strictly because that was what Emma was doing—laying out her heart. The idea of other people watching…
“They’re filming tonight and intend to release it as an amateur movie. It should win a prize for sure as well as make a ton of money.”
Emma felt her face turn scarlet. Her teeth gritted so hard they were in danger of cracking. A tic burst into life in her jaw.
They were not going to get away with their home movies.
Chapter Six
Footsteps at the far end of the passage galvanized Emma to action. She whipped back inside, easing the door shut behind her. Oh, boy. She had to get a grip. Warming up. That was what she was meant to be doing.
Emma sprinted over to the closest poster on the wall, rapidly read the instructions and attempted to emulate them. The muscles at the back of her thigh groaned in protest, sending a wave of jagged pain the length of her leg. She winced and eased up on the stretch. Cripes, if she’d known sex with Jack would be so strenuous, she would’ve gone into training first.
“Though why you’re worrying when Jack has told you there’s not going to be any sex once we’re off the island,” she muttered. Thinking of sex brought her back to the main problem.
Movies.
Of her and Jack.
Naked.
The door flew open and a tall redhead stepped inside. “Oh, good. You’re warming up already. Excellent.”
Oh, she was warming up all right, and busy thinking of payback.
“You look as if you’re ready. I’ll weigh you, take some muscle-to-fat ratios then we’ll test your existing level of fitness. But first, I’ll get you to fill in this form with your medical history.”
Emma stopped torturing her limbs and accepted the paper and pen from the woman.
Three quarters of an hour later, she teetered from the room on weak, rubbery legs. Jamie was a sadist.
She slowed as she passed the offices, but the men had gone so she had no way of identifying them. Though she’d recognize their slimy voices if she heard them again. That was for sure.
The thought of putting them in their place reinvigorated her and she picked up the pace from a teeter to a stomp. At reception, she stopped to learn the gym hours. A little recovery time wouldn’t go astray. She’d come back later to do her first training session and ask more questions. Right now, she’d find Jack and let him know of her discovery.
Jack found her first. As she strode along the beach, a hand curled around her upper arm, jerking her to a stop. She whirled, ready to defend herself then relaxed. “Jack.” She straightened, tossing her head as his dark glower hit her. At least, she assumed he was glaring because the line of his mouth was straight and firm. Difficult to confirm since he wore sunglasses.
“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
“I didn’t know you cared,” Emma said sweetly. No mistaking her tone for anything but snide and bitchy. Despite looking for him, he wasn’t forgiven for blowing hot and cold. Jeesh, that sort of behavior was part of a woman’s agenda. Men were supposed to be black and white, not shades of marbled gray.
“I was worried.” He took a closer look at her face and had the effrontery to stroke a finger across her flushed cheek. “What’s wrong?”
Emma jerked from his touch and stalked farther along the beach before dropping onto a clean patch of sand. With legs outstretched, she stared out to sea. She felt rather than saw Jack sit at her side. He could’ve put a shirt on, dammit.
“I’ve been at the gym. I wanted to follow up on something I heard from the bartender yesterday. While I was there, I overheard some men talking. Our room is bugged.” She turned to Jack, feeling the full thrust of anger and indignation and loss of privacy sweep through her again. “They’re filming us having sex. They’re going to sell it on the Internet.”
The concern faded from Jack’s face and he suddenly seemed more alert. Dangerous and in private investigator mode. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking because of the glasses shielding his gaze. Bother the man and his rigid control. Just for once, she’d like to see him lose his cool.
“Aren’t you going to say anything? Frankly, I’m pissed. What are we going to do about it?”
“We aren’t going to do anything.”
“What?” Her screech of outrage scared a foraging seagull. It took off into the air with a startled cry. “You knew? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t think you’d be able to keep up the act if you knew we were under surveillance.”
Right. This just kept getting better and better. “You could have given me the benefit of the doubt.”
“I wasn’t sure if they were onto us or not. It seemed better to ignore them and watch developments.”
“And?” She didn’t bother to hide her testiness.
Jack rolled toward Emma and tugged at a short springy curl just behind her ear. She was ready to blast him but he spoke first. “Someone is watching us right now.”
Jack watched her as he fingered another curl. He’d never seen her in this mood before—curt, irritable. Plain bitchy. He liked it.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re going to give another show for our audience. Let’s see how your acting skills shape up.” Her blue eyes narrowed, making him want to laugh. “I dare you.”
She landed on top of him before he could blink, knocking the air from his lungs. Her leg slid between his, her thigh riding high against his groin. Instantly his cock lengthened, and he knew by the gleam in her eyes she recognized her effect on him.
“I was thinking of a kiss.” But his body had other ideas.
“Well, what’s stopping you? Don’t say the audience is putting you off,” she mocked.
Jack glanced up and down the beach. Empty, apart from the guy over on the far balcony. And he wouldn’t see them either if they moved closer to the gnarled pohutukawa tree a few feet away. The sun streamed from directly overhead, and Jack didn’t need to check his watch to confirm the time. Almost midday.
Cupping her face in his hands, he savored the buzz of his waking taniwha simmering beneath his skin. “Nothing stopping me at all.”
He closed the distance between them so her breasts brushed his naked chest. Surprised she was even talking to him, let alone letting him get this close after this morning, Jack wasn’t about to shrink from her challenge. He covered her lips and kissed her, really kissed her, thrusting his tongue deep into her mouth.
“Get a room, why doncha,” a loud masculine voice hollered. He followed up his suggestion with a shrill whistle.
A feminine giggle joined his sniggers.
Where the hell had he come from? Jack lifted his head, his gaze touching on her lips. They were pink. Swollen. And he enjoyed caressing them more than he should. “Guess we’d better go to lunch. See if Mahoney has arrived back from the mainland. I heard the receptionist mention he’d left. He was away overnight.”
“Have you found anything helpful?”
“Nothing. Just a gut feeling.” Jack stroked his finger across her silky cheek. His instincts were working overtime, but he couldn’t be sure if it was edginess because of the blue moon or intuition about the case.
“All the male employees are big. Muscled.”
Difficult not to notice them, then there were the security guards who patrolled the perimeter of the resort. Keeping people in or out? Hard to say. “Did you notice the trophy cabinet at the gym?”
“Bulging with shiny trophies.”
Jack rolled off her and climbed to his feet. He extended a hand and helped her stand. “I’m going to search the admin offices tonight.”
“What time? How are we going to get around the watcher problem?”
“I’m not taking you with me.” Jack didn’t want to worry about her, but one look at her face told him she intended to argue. “We’ll talk about it later.”
<
br /> They walked along the beach, heading toward the main resort area and the restaurants.
“What are you doing this afternoon? I’m going to do a hike around the far boundary of the resort. I want to check out a couple of boats I saw this morning.”
Emma nodded thoughtfully. “That would be a good way to get drugs either on or off the island. This is so frustrating. We haven’t learned anything new. We don’t know anything more than we did before we arrived.”
“A lot of investigations go this way,” Jack said. Fuck, she thought she was frustrated. Try being a taniwha with a blue moon on the horizon. His mind turned to sex. One-track bloody thing.
“I have a hair appointment. I thought I might be able to worm something out of the hairdresser or at least hear the gossip in the salon.”
Jack glanced at her curly brown hair and shrugged. She couldn’t get into much mischief at the hairdresser’s.
“Okay. I’ll meet you on the beach near the pohutukawa tree at six to discuss how we’re going to get around our voyeurs.”
“Perhaps we could stage a fight.” The twist of her lips mocked him. “It wouldn’t be difficult shouting at you.”
Jack grinned before sobering. He seemed to do that a lot lately. Smile. And usually it was Emma related.
“Don’t laugh,” she snapped. “I still haven’t forgiven you for this morning. You should know that I’m big on revenge so watch your back. You never know when I might strike.”
Jack stilled at the idea of Emma plotting revenge. A fight. His mind immediately darted to the part after the fight. The making up… Alarm bells tolled inside his head. Hell. Emma Montrose was wriggling into his head, and it was bloody uncomfortable with her wedged in there. Made him think—impossible things—involving a future.
They walked into the restaurant, and some of Emma’s poker partners gestured them to join their table.
Emma waved back and hurried over, giving Jack no option but to follow. She’d changed since they’d arrived. She seemed more confident. More everything. Heads turned as she walked past. Jack intercepted an avid, hungry gaze eyeing Emma’s arse. He speared him with a dark scowl, his taniwha growling approval when the guy hastily turned away to make a selection from the buffet.
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