A Question of Honor (15 page)

“I’m jealous of your tan,” Kit teased. It was true. Noah’s body was a golden color, making the black mat of hair on his chest even more appealing.

He glanced over at her. “You’ll get your share today. Come here.”

Kit’s eyes widened. “Why?”

He held out his hand. “You might as well learn how to guide the
Rainbow
. Come on, don’t look so scared. It’s easy.”

She grimaced. “Next you’ll be telling me Tripoli does it.”

Noah laughed fully, leaning over and gripping her bare arm, pulling her to her feet. “Come on, my hesitant sailor.”

Grudgingly Kit placed her hands on the wheel, her feet slightly apart to compensate for the gentle rolling motion of the vessel. Noah stood behind her, both arms around her as he helped Kit get the feel of the helm. She was agonizingly aware of the warmth of his male body against her, of having nowhere to break contact with him. Her heartbeat rose and she tensed.

“Relax,” he said close to her ear. “I don’t bite, contrary to popular feminist opinion.”

Kit twisted her head, trying to give him a dirty look. “As I’ve said before, no man is unarmed.”

Noah’s green eyes danced with laughter, his smile teasing. “As if women don’t have their own arsenal,” he taunted.

“Such as?” Kit challenged, enjoying their repartee.

He rested his head on her shoulder for a moment, amusement lacing his rich, husky voice. “Such as, ‘I’ve got a headache tonight, Fred’ or—”

Kit gave him a jab in the ribs. “You—”

Noah stepped away, laughing. “Don’t say it! I know I’m a chauvinist. Let’s face it,” he said, coming back and standing dangerously close to her again as she gripped the wheel, “if you didn’t have me around to tease you a little, you’d get serious about feminism.”

Kit gave him a black look, an unwilling grin tugging at the corners of her mouth despite everything she could do to stop it. “You can go, but Tripoli can stay.”

He feigned being wounded, coming up and sliding his hands suggestively across her shoulders. “You mean you’d make me walk the plank?”

“Where’s the plank?” Kit called in a loud voice.

Noah looked over at the dog. “Tripoli, I think she means it! You’re going to have to save me from getting torn apart by the sharks. Quick! Be my life raft!”

Kit laughed in gales, unable to stop. It felt so good to laugh, to let go of that professional barrier that always existed between them while on board the
Osprey
. The last month had altered their relationship subtly, and she relished the new intimacy with him. Finally Noah took the helm, guiding her to the chair so she could sit and giggle. The wind was brisk, and the tangy scent of the ocean was a delicious intoxicant. Occasionally Noah would cast a spurious glance in her direction, one brow crooked at a questioning angle. He guided the boat along the coast, rarely more than a mile offshore. Tripoli lazed at Kit’s feet, sleeping.

“Truce?” Noah hedged finally.

“You think you deserve one after those earlier remarks?” Kit demanded.

He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Let’s take a democratic vote by the crew.” He glanced down at Tripoli. “I’m sure I’ll get reinstated that way.”

“Let’s not and say we did. I don’t think there’s much democracy aboard this boat of yours.”

“I think you’re right. Feel like going down to the galley and getting us something cool to drink?”

Kit shrugged indifferently, feigning a yawn. “Sorry, I have a headache.”

It was his turn to grin. “Touché. I wish I had a mirror right now.”

“Why?”

“To show you just how lovely and relaxed you’ve become.”

Kit groaned, getting to her feet. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Opening the doors to the cabin of the boat, Kit stepped carefully down the polished mahogany steps. Bunk beds were built into one wall, the deep golden wood burnished and smooth beneath her fingertips as she made her way toward the tiny galley. Passing the bathroom, Kit spotted a mirror. Out of curiosity, she ventured in and looked at her reflection. The difference was startling! Noah was right—her gray eyes sparkled with happiness, her cheeks were flushed with life and her lips curved upward, free of tension.

Climbing back up to the deck with their refreshments, Kit handed Noah a soft drink and sat down in her chair.

“Thanks,” he said, meaning it.

“You’re welcome. You really do have a beautiful boat, Noah.”

“It’s my sanity when things start closing in on me over at the Coast Guard.”

Kit understood what he meant—the brutal number of hours and days he’d put in since Morgan had been branded a traitor. “You don’t get to do this very often, though, do you?”

“No, maybe three or four times a year.” He shared a warm look with her. “But until Garcia is caught, this is now officially your second home.”

Kit eyed him speculatively. “Maybe,” she hedged. “That’s all I need—a boat as a second home.”

“You’re teaching me to take time out from the job and relax.”

There was a difference in Noah, Kit conceded. When she had first met him, he’d been a driven officer who was married to his career for good reasons. But since she’d been living with him, he’d been taking more and more time away from his job. Weekends were spent relaxing whenever possible. They had a positive effect on each other, she decided.

Noah turned, catching her thoughtful gaze. “Besides, I like to fish for our dinner. Saves on grocery bills,” he teased.

Kit tried to ignore the fact that he’d said, “our” dinner. She tilted her head. “Tell me, Noah, why aren’t you married?”

Noah turned the boat in a westerly direction as they rounded an outcrop of rock, heading toward a small cove ringed with palm trees and a white beach in the distance. “I was planning on a family about five years ago, and then this fiasco with Morgan blew up in our faces. Since then I’ve had to devote all my spare time to keeping my own career intact from officers who wanted to see me leave the Coast Guard. No one wanted the brother of a traitor in the ranks. So, for a long time I slaved twelve hours a day, seven days a week to salvage my career and ensure that no one could drum me out before I put in the twenty years required for my pension.”

“It’s not fair that you or Aly should be punished like that,” Kit growled unhappily.

“Life is never fair. We just have to learn how to roll with the punches.” His eyes crinkled with sudden amusement. “Besides it’s only been recently that I’ve felt like settling down. I had plenty of wild oats to sow.”

“I’ll bet you did.”

“Now there you go again, accusing me.”

Kit grimaced. “With your good looks, I’m sure you have an army of women waiting in line to snag you.”

“Jealous?”

She clamped her mouth shut, embarrassed by his gentle taunting.

“Let’s put it this way. I’ve had a few serious relationships in the past and I enjoy women. Are you going to hang me for that?”

Kit approved of his honesty. “No. I’m the one who should get hung out to dry for the way I’ve fouled up my life.”

Noah shook his head. “Mistakes are allowed, Kit. It’s when you keep making the same mistake that it becomes stupidity.” He shared a smile with her. “Ignorance is forgivable. Stupidity isn’t.”

“For once we agree.”

Noah guided the boat into the cove. The blue-green water sparkled a crystal invitation as he slowly approached the sandy white beach. About ten feet offshore, he cut the engine and heaved the anchor overboard. He looked up at her.

“Well, are you ready to go snorkeling with me to catch our picnic lunch?”

She smiled and nodded, following him to the lower deck, where the equipment was stored in a large wooden locker. Kit slid out of her shorts. She felt immediate heat in her cheeks when she noticed Noah watching her with a hungry glimmer in his eyes. Almost immediately he veiled his gaze, and she took a deep, shaky breath in relief.

Noah pulled out several articles from the box. “Okay, here you go. One set of flippers, a face mask and a snorkel.” He handed them to her, then retrieved his own set of gear.

The rest of the day was a little slice of heaven for Kit. It started when she eased herself into the warm, welcoming waters of the cove with Noah’s steadying hand on her waist. She learned quickly with his instructions, and in no time they were swimming around the cove, watching hundreds of brilliantly colored tropical fish. The entire floor was carpeted with a fortress of coral. Tripoli had leaped off the boat earlier, immediately swimming to shore, happily exploring his new domain. Kit laughed as she saw the Doberman collecting fallen palm fronds on the beach as if they were prize bones.

For more than an hour, she experienced an intense joy with Noah at her side. He speared two sea bass. Afterward they swam to shore to roast them over the open flames of a small fire. Kit sat on a blanket sharing a lunch of fish, cantaloupe and potato salad with Noah. His body gleamed from the recent swim, and she enjoyed the play of muscles each time he moved.

“Sure you aren’t a fish?” Kit asked between flaky bites of sea bass.

“Probably am. I was born in Clearwater and learned to swim when I was five years old.”

“It’s nice to see someone really enjoy himself,” Kit said.

Noah sat cross-legged, balancing a cup of wine in one hand and his plate in the other. “I learned early on in this game to keep some distance between drug busting and my personal life, Kit.” He looked gratefully around the cove. “This place has been a real haven and heaven to me when the pressure gets rough.”

“I believe it,” she whispered. Her appetite over the past month had improved markedly, and Kit ate with relish. “I never separated narc work from my home life.” And then she added with a grimace, “I really didn’t have a home life.” Finishing off the meal, Kit put the plate aside and wrapped her hands around her legs to rest her chin on her knees. The cove was alive with color.

“You do now,” Noah said. “In all fairness to you, though, doing undercover work is totally different from sea-busting activity. I don’t live in the trenches the way you did. If we find one low-profile boat a day, that’s usually good hunting for us. You lived with the element, rubbing elbows with the pimps, the junkies and the dealers.” He gave her a keen look. “And you paid the price for it, too.”

Pleasantly tired, Kit closed her eyes, turning her head in his direction. “Too much for one, looking back on it,” she admitted.

Noah repacked the picnic basket, his lips thinning. “Kit, if you had a choice right now, would you quit narc?”

The question startled her. That, plus the carefully concealed strength in his voice. She lifted her lashes to study him. “Want the truth?”

Noah gave her a gentle smile. “Has there ever been anything but that between us?”

Managing a short laugh, Kit stretched out on the blanket before him, luxuriating in the rays of the hot sun. “That’s one of our unfailing attributes as a team, I’m afraid.”

“I find it an important one,” he countered.

Kit eyed him suspiciously, deciding not to ask him why. “That aside, yes, I’d quit narc today if I could.”

“Why don’t you?”

She frowned. “You read my personnel file. I’m up to my hocks with Garcia and the Colombian connection.” She rested her arm against her eyes, muttering, “Chuck needs me on this bust, Noah. I told him it would be the last one. I can’t take it anymore.”

Noah forced himself to sit quietly at her side, his heart contradicting at the pained admission slipping from her lips. He stared down at her. Kit looked almost ethereal, but he could also see strength and courage in the set of her full, promising lips. Not to mention that telltale flash of silver in her large gray eyes from time to time. He reached over, running his fingers lightly down her arm, and captured her hand briefly, giving it a squeeze.

“What would you do if you quit?”

Kit thrilled to his unexpected touch. As always, Noah had caught her off guard. She removed her arm from across her eyes and looked up into his strong, clean face. The intimacy between them was one of silent, mutual agreement, and it rattled her completely.

“I have a minor in teaching. I’d like to go back to college and get my certificate. Then I’d like to work with kids in the elementary grades.”

His green eyes darkened. “You’d be one hell of a teacher.” Noah felt himself growing hard with desire and fought to restrain himself. Frustration curdled in his throat. Reluctantly he forced a smile. “Let’s rest for an hour and then we’ll go for a swim,” he suggested, rolling over on his belly and lying next to her.

Kit’s lips parted, and she was aware of her rapidly beating heart. The need for Noah filled her. Without another word, she lay on her back and closed her eyes, excruciatingly aware of Noah’s body only inches away from her.

Chapter Nine

“C
ome on,” Noah coaxed, “let’s take one more swim around the cove.” He rose and offered his hand to Kit. After an hour’s nap, both were refreshed. Kit’s gray eyes shone, and as Noah saw desire lingering in their depths, it hit him physically. His strong, bronzed fingers wrapped around her hand and he pulled her gently upward. It would be so easy…so easy to pull her those last few inches that separated them into his arms, lean down and…

“No—” Kit whispered, alarmed as she looked into his hooded eyes and read his intent. Some small part of her fought her desire because it was wrong to entangle their professional relationship with a personal one. But the protest dissolved as she became helplessly ensnared within his sea-green gaze.

Noah maintained a hold on Kit’s hand, poignantly aware of her warmth. He saw her eyes grow dark, and felt himself being drawn into a vortex of heat. His grip tightened and he pulled Kit forward until their bodies met and touched like hot, molten steel. He knew he shouldn’t, but another part of him, the part that wanted to give her the happiness she had long deserved, won out. He reached out and gently caressed her cheek. Placing his finger beneath her chin, he gently forced her to meet his mouth. The dangerous world they lived in no longer existed. Only Kit and her beautiful gray eyes telling him so much did.

Something old and painful broke loose in Kit’s heart as Noah’s mouth gently brushed hers. She felt his hands cradle her shoulders, bringing her fully against him. Her breathing grew chaotic as she slid her hands up his arms and across his shoulders.