Alive at 5 (Entangled Ignite) (13 page)

He put one hand against the door, the other at her side, trapping her head between his large hands. He leaned forward, pressing against her hands, forcing her to use real effort to hold him at bay. “I told him to
thrill
you,” he whispered.

One hand moved from the wall down to her hip. He pulled her forward into him, leaving no doubt how much she was thrilling him.
Jesus, he felt big
. She arched her back as her arms, holding him at bay, gave way.

He dragged his palm down her back slowly, lingering on the spot where her lower back met her backside. “Did it work? Are you thrilled?”

She whispered into his ear. “Not quite yet.”

He sucked in a breath. “Pulling 9 gs wasn’t enough for you?”

So, he knew she’d done it. A little part of her swelled. “I must admit the ride took my breath away.”

“Now I’m going to do the same.”

His lips were warm as they pressed down on hers, gently but firmly. Desperate to feel even more, she bit down on his lower lip, enjoying the way his body tightened in response. She pulled him into her, as close as she possibly could, kissing him deeper. She wanted every part of her body touching his. Could he get any harder? She could only try.

“Are you wet yet?” he whispered into the kiss.

She’d been on the verge of an orgasm since that F-16 landed. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

His body stilled. He pulled back, looked right at her, and grinned. “Yes. Yes, baby, I want to know. Right now.”

The way his gaze lasered into her with such heated intent scared her. She swallowed and licked her lips, thinking for the first time of backing away. This was crazy. Crazy! They’d get caught for sure. Arrested. Embarrassed.
Fired!

His hands started roving again. One reached up and pulled at the zipper on the front of her flight suit. Slowly, he pulled it down. With his other hand, he stroked her backside, moving her back into him. A strong awareness of her own heartbeat filled her ears.

As if sensing her hesitation, he kissed her again. This time he deepened the kiss, and her shoulders relaxed, her arms falling to her sides.

She was so caught up in the taste of him, she barely noticed the flight suit slip off her shoulders, but she shuddered as the cool air hit her skin and jumped at the sound of her cell phone, in her jumpsuit pocket, hitting the floor. Holy cow, she was basically in a bra and panties. Her flight suit landed in a pile at her feet. “Zack—”

He continued the kiss, her plea lost is his mouth. His fingers found the inside of her thighs, and they dusted her skin as they traveled upward, leaving patches of tingling in their wake. She ached between her legs, and contemplated putting his fingers right where they needed to be to end this slow torture. She broke the kiss, letting out a slow moan.
Where was her control?
She had wanted to make him wait. She’d needed to tease him.
Then
taste him.

She pressed her legs together, trapping his fingers between her thighs. He chuckled and used just enough pressure to put space between them again.

A soft clicking sound pulled her out of her bliss. A grunt followed, making her jump.

“Did you hear that?” She pushed him back and searched for the source of the sound, but she saw nothing.

His eyes narrowed, and the lustful look retreated as he followed her gaze around the room. “What are you looking for?”

“Witnesses.” The hair on her arms stood up. The room was crackling with a weird kind of energy, as if they weren’t alone.

“Witnesses to what?” His body stiffened. And not in a good way.

She listened.
No sounds
. Shaking her head, she feared her imagination was playing with her. Her brain kept sending her mixed messages. She returned her full attention to Zack, satisfied she’d just imagined the sound. “Witnesses to my next ride.”

His eyes fired up. “You haven’t even told me about the first one.” He glanced over his shoulder one more time.

“What do you want to know?”

“Was your heart beating?” He rested the palm of his right hand on the left side of her chest, right above her breast. “Like it is now?”

“Yes.”

“Because you were afraid?”

“Because I was excited.”

“I want to feel how excited you are right now.” His fingers slid under her lace panties and stroked her between her folds. Goose bumps sprung up all over her arms, and her legs wobbled. She couldn’t wait to step out of the flight suit pooled at her feet, and cast off every bit of insecurity, sense of responsibility, and duty, that had been smothering her for far too long. She was ready to let go. Totally.

He ran his lips up her neck. She shivered and pressed her legs together as he softly stroked her clit. Waves of pleasure began to build. It wasn’t going to take her long. She was already jacked-up on endorphins and adrenaline. Her hands began their own frantic exploration of his lean, muscled back. “That feels so good.”

“You feel so good.”

A door slammed.

She froze.

Zack pulled away from her and wrenched around.

He’d heard it, too. “It came from that room.” She gestured to a door beyond the showers. “There’s a third entrance to the locker room.”

“Now you tell me?” He took off running toward the door.

Heart fluttering, she quickly adjusted her panties, pulled up her flight suit, and followed.

…

Jesus.
The wall of heat outside the locker room sucked the air out of Zack’s lungs even though he was in good shape. He did a quick surveillance of the area and the people strolling past—both soldiers and civilians—but didn’t see anything or anyone suspicious. So he headed back inside.

Samantha stood just inside the entrance of the ladies’ locker room. She was clutching her smartphone in her hand. She stared at him, looking like a terrified child about to get in trouble.

“You okay?” His chest swelled with the urge to protect her.

When she didn’t answer, he moved quickly to her side. “I couldn’t find anyone. I ran outside, but whoever was in here must have slipped back into the crowd. Of course, it didn’t help that I don’t know who I’m looking for.”

“Oh, he’s here,” Samantha said.

“Who? Robert?” Zack saw her shaking. He put his arms around her. It was cool in the locker room, but after the heat they’d been generating, this quaking must be due to something else.

She nodded against his chest.

“What makes you so sure? It could have been a woman who wanted to use the bathroom, and when she saw us she left.”
Or Monica spying on us.

“No. It was
him
.” Samantha shuddered in his arms. “He texted me a picture. I have my smartphone with me.”

He gently disengaged himself from her, dreading what he was about to see.

She handed him her cell. She’d enlarged a picture.

He held his breath. “Asshole!” Someone
had
been in the women’s locker room, watching them. His temperature shot up.

He examined the image. They’d been captured in full embrace, Samantha almost naked, both oblivious to the camera. Were there other photos? Probably.

He glanced around. He didn’t see any indication someone might still be hiding inside. Whoever had been there had probably left when the door slammed.

“Why would he do this?” she whispered.

“He?” Smartphone still in hand, Zack put both arms around her. Little tremors rippled through her and that made him furious. “You think Robert Fitzpatrick took this picture?”

“I think Robert Fitzpatrick is the X-Force company photographer. A guy who looked like him had a camera around his neck in that picture of the Fitzpatricks I saw online. That’s how I made the connection. It was the camera.”

“Robert, he’s the same guy who took pictures of us at the Orange Grove Sink?”

“Yes. He’s the one,” she said. “At least, I think it’s him.”

“Look at your phone. Does it say Robert Fitzpatrick texted you?”

“No. Just a number.”

“Call it,” he said.

“I did while you were outside. I got a generic voicemail message.”

Samantha’s trembling lessened so he pulled back a little. “What motive would he have to take these kinds of pictures of us?”

“It doesn’t make sense, does it?”

“Maybe Monica?” He had never trusted her. She’d come on too strong from day one. “She could have taken the picture and texted it to you. She’d have your number from the trip paperwork.”

Samantha nodded. “Maybe she’s just jealous?”

He glanced over her shoulder at the phone he still held in his hand. With her head pressed against the door, her long hair in disarray, and her eyes closed, Samantha looked wild and sexy. He’d bet Monica was jealous as hell. He had his lips on her neck, and his hands in her underwear. The picture wasn’t quite pornographic, but was definitely provocative.

Samantha’s eyes watered. “Whoever it was probably took others, and if something this graphic ever got out to the newspaper, the internet, YouTube, I’m fired. My career as a serious journalist would be over.”

His stomach clenched. He didn’t bother to argue the point. This picture could screw him, too. His bosses would ask him where the picture was taken, and he couldn’t lie. They’d find out he was still investigating his uncle’s case despite being barred from it.

“You know what we have to do now,” he said.

“Find and corner whoever did this.” She gave a half-hearted attempt at bravery, pulling away from him and throwing fisted hands on her hips. “The stakes just went up.”

For both of them.

Chapter Fifteen

Sam and Captain John Jacobs stood on the bow of
The Great Escape
, a live-aboard used for shark diving in the Bahamas. The seventy-five-foot charter fishing boat rocked gently, anchored twenty miles off the coast of West End, Grand Bahamas. They’d arrived yesterday, two days after that life changing F-16 flight.

Scuba divers called the area Tiger Beach because of a shallow sand bar below the surface where tiger sharks liked to feed. The X-Force Adventure Vacation Company called it Shark Heaven, the final stop on the advertised adventure vacation.

The glorious cobalt blue sky remained cloud free, and the sun cast streaks of light over the water. The rays of sunshine gave the water texture, and different shades of blue pressed out against the horizon looking like a handmade quilt.

Sam had little time to enjoy the beautiful view. She had another interview to do while continuing to keep an eye out for Robert, who had managed to hide from them—an almost impossible feat aboard a charter boat, even one of this size.

She attached a wireless microphone to the collar of Captain Jacobs’s T-shirt. She and George had continued to shoot video and interviews, knowing if they did prove these accidents were murders, they’d need the footage of the adventure vacation to help tell the story. They also had to keep up their cover. So, the ploy continued.

She wrinkled her nose. Neither the breathtaking scene nor the warm breeze could clear away the smell of melting fish goo. The disgusting, oily aroma crawled up her nose and anchored itself there.

She turned to George, who was setting up the video camera on a tripod in front of the captain. “You ready?”

George nodded.

“All right. Let’s get started.” She stood beside George, facing the captain, so he would look at her and therefore almost directly into the camera.

“Captain Jacob, what are these adventure vacationers going to do today?” She gestured to the five guys seated topside putting on their scuba diving gear, including Zack, who looked focused and serious.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen.” The tall, bearded captain spoke with a raspy smoker’s voice. He gestured to a plastic trash can on deck. Two crewmembers were wrestling the contraption they called “the chumsicle” toward the swim platform at the back of the boat. “We lower this trash can full of frozen fish guts into the water on a float. It’s gonna hover around twenty feet off the bottom, and as it melts the sharks will pick up the smell of blood in the water and come from everywhere. The idea here isn’t to feed the sharks, but to draw them to the bloody bait.”

“What keeps the divers from becoming bait themselves?” Sam asked.

“Good question. They have strict instructions to stay at least twenty-five feet away. Sharks, especially tigers, don’t like to compete for food.”

She wondered how you would judge that kind of distance underwater. She wouldn’t be caught dead putting as much as a big toe in the water that close to sharks.

Her plan was to stay on the boat and try to dig up some incriminating evidence on Robert the photographer or Monica the manager. Maybe see if either had left their smartphones on board or had a digital card with more pictures.

The captain had mentioned that Robert had boarded late last night, right before they departed West Palm Beach. The creepy guy had managed to avoid her and Zack by taking to his bunk in the bow almost immediately. They couldn’t very well barge into his cabin and cause a scene.
Patience
, Zack had said. And they still had no evidence on Monica, either. Sam thought it best to let him handle Monica.

“Captain, how do sharks usually act around the divers?” She continued the interview even as her mind wandered.

“They will be all over the place, but they’ll be thickest by the chumsicle. They’ll bump and sniff the bait while the divers observe and take pictures from a good distance.”

“What happens if a diver moves in too close?” George intended to dive with Zack, and she wanted her daredevil cameraman to have all the facts before jumping in.

The captain paused and gave her a cool stare. “You get bit.”

George’s head popped out from behind the camera. “Thought that didn’t happen much.”

“The sharks will warn you if you get too close, especially the tigers,” the captain said.

George met his gaze incredulously. “
Warn
you? What, these sharks have manners?”

A roll of laughter moved through the small group of divers watching the interview.

“Funny guy, aren’t you?” The captain walked straight up to the camera, so close his hot breath left a foggy imprint on George’s lens. “Want a physical example of what happens if a smartass like you doesn’t heed the warning?”

George mumbled from behind the camera. “Sure.”

The captain turned around so his backside faced the camera. Then he dropped his trousers. His white ass stuck out against the rest of his tanned body. In the center of his right butt cheek was a large scar, ragged and red.

A chorus of groans and one whistle washed over the deck.

“I told Sharon Stone to kiss my ass, and this is what I ended up with. Twenty-five stitches. I almost bled to death before the rescue chopper could get here.”

“Sharon Stone?” Sam asked, puzzled.

“We name the ones we can distinguish after movie stars. Especially the ones that leave their mark.” The captain pulled his pants up.

“But this is usually safe, right?” She feared for Zack and George already.

In dramatic fashion, Captain Jacobs threw one foot up on a bench next to him and glared into the camera. “Sixteen hundred people a year are attacked and bitten in New York City.” He paused and glanced around the top deck. “By other people.”

Sam also glanced around the deck. Most of the divers had stopped to listen. “Okaaay.”

“Four hundred people a year die from falling objects. Nine people a year die trying to get money out of vending machines.”

“You’re making this shit up,” George said.

The captain shook his head. “Seven people die each year from shark bites.”

“His point is…” Zack walked front and center, fully dressed in his wet suit. Looking sexy as hell. “Shark diving is really a very safe thing to do, if you follow the captain’s directions.” He focused on George.

Point made. Thank you, Zack.

“Thanks, Captain.” Sam took off his microphone.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Monica watching them from a seat at the helm. Determined to act as if nothing was up, Sam turned away, not even acknowledging her.

“Nervous?” Zack asked George.

“Hell, yeah.”

“Good.”

“Why good, dude?”

The two men stood face to face. Zack’s shoulders appeared high and tight in the black scuba outfit. “Nervous people pay more attention to what’s going on around them.”

She took a few steps closer so she could hear better. Zack must have sensed her. He turned so quickly her breath caught in her throat.

“But I’m also worried about the two-legged predators. Be careful, Samantha. Even on deck, it could be dangerous.”

She swallowed. “Don’t worry. I intend to keep my clothes on,” she whispered. “I’m safe on board with the staff around. Robert is diving, right?”

Zack shrugged. “I assume it’s his job to take pictures for the company.”

“You know, I’ve been thinking. Robert was the one who first told me about your uncle.”

“So?”

“So, he was working here as a photographer even back then. Doesn’t that strike you as odd? His family is rich.”

“Scott Fitzpatrick used to be rich. His funds were frozen once he was arrested.” Zack ran a hand over his chin. “But, yeah, Robert being here for so long is odd.”

“Zack, man, I’m ready to gear up. Can you go over my equipment with me?” George’s voice had lost the cockiness and now had a nervous ring to it.

As Zack and George walked over to where his stuff lay on the deck, Sam decided to check out Zack’s gear. He already had on his dive suit, but his tanks, mask, and regulator still sat on the other side of the deck.

A short, squat man drifted toward Zack’s tanks.

Holy shit!
Her heart stilled. “Zack, I think that’s him. Hey!” she yelled across the deck, taking long strides toward the guy.

The X-Force photographer had his back turned, but she thought it was Robert by the shape of his body. What the hell was he doing? He was standing right in front of Zack’s gear. “Don’t touch anything.”

The man backed off the dive gear as if he’d heard, but he didn’t turn around to acknowledge her.

She huffed across the deck. Glancing back, she saw Zack right behind her.

She reached the man first. “Hey, what are you doing?” She pulled on his arm. His skin felt unusually slick and cool.

His body stiffened, but then, as he turned, his muscles appeared to relax like a snake slithering out of an uncomfortable situation.

“Are you Robert Fitzpatrick?” She blew the words out before stopping to think if this was the best course of action.

“Fitzpatrick? You must be mistaking me for someone else.”

She squinted. The sun made it hard to get a good look at his face. In the picture she’d pulled up online, Robert Fitzpatrick had on sunglasses and a hat. She glared at the man. “I thought…”

Yes, this man had the same body type, but his head was shaved and his face seemed fatter. She couldn’t be certain…

“What’s going on here?” Zack demanded. She felt better now that he was standing next to her.

A flurry of questions flew out of her mouth like anxious butterflies. “What is your name, then? Where are you from? How long have you been taking pictures for the company?” Zack put a hand on her back. She took a breath as his dark eyes drilled into the man in front of them. Forget his subtle warning to slow down. She had to ask. “Were you messing with his tanks?”

The man’s emotions remained shuttered by calm features. “I’m sorry? Messing with whose tanks?”

“Mine.” Zack knelt at his gear and examined each piece.

“I’m Ian Fredricks. We’ve met before, Samantha.”

She noticed his long skinny fingers, and the smell of expensive cologne. Who wore cologne on a dive boat? The sunlight caught his irises, turning them into an unusual shade of gray.
Cold eyes
, she thought. The hair on the back of her neck crept into a standing position.

“Everybody knows you. You’re on TV.” The man’s lips curled up into a creepy, satisfied smile. “And people will know you even better soon. I’ve been busy snapping some very candid shots of you and your friend here. I intend to post them online when I get a chance.”

Zack stiffened. “I want to see all pictures first. You won’t post anything with us in it without permission.”

“But both of you already signed a release. Remember the pictures I took of both of you at the Orange Grove Sink and MacDill Air Force Base?”

Her throat constricted. He had taken professional pictures of them at both locations, but she felt certain he’d also taken that picture in the locker room. But she needed proof, and she needed to make sure he didn’t have any other photos before scaring him away.

Zack rose to his full height and towered over the man she thought was Robert Fitzpatrick. “I’d like to see those pictures, Ian.” He hit the name like he probably wanted to punch the man. Hard.

But Ian remained cool and crisp in his white cotton polo. “Fine. I’ll be glad to show them to you both. After the dive.”

What did that mean?

“I need to change.” The snake slithered below deck.

“What do you think? Is it him?” Zack asked as soon as the man was out of hearing range.

“I can’t tell. He looks different than in the Fitzpatrick family picture. Older. Rounder.”

“It’s him.” Zack continued going through his gear methodically. “I can tell by his energy. He’s practically taunting us.”

“Should we go after him?” She half wished he’d say no. The guy gave her the heebie-jeebies.

“No. He can’t escape. We’re on a boat. Surrounded by water. Besides, I have a different plan.”