Amber Beach (31 page)

She could tell by the position of the throttle that the
Tomorrow
had more speed available, yet Jake didn’t use it. Before she could ask why, he spun the helm, sending the boat hard to the left. Something slammed against the hull. From the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of a dark shape sliding away in a boil of foam. A log.

Jake spun the wheel back onto the old heading and gave the radar a flicking glance. Where there should have been one
image, he saw two. The second one was much smaller, but still many times bigger than the
Tomorrow.

And it was heading straight at them.

“Hang on”, he said grimly.

“I am!”

He slammed the throttle forward. The SeaSport’s bow exploded wave tops into wild sheets of spray.

The radio crackled. Most of the words were drowned out by the noise of going too fast over choppy water.

“… Conroy. Do you read me, Jake? There’s a ship in the radar shadow of the freighter. Change course to…” The noise of the
Tomorrow
slamming into a bigger wave drowned out whatever Conroy was saying.

Though Jake appreciated the warning, he didn’t have a spare hand for the radio right now. It was taking all of his skill to keep the
Tomorrow
right side up. Even the most seaworthy boat had its limits, especially at speed. He knew he was crowding the SeaSport’s.

Sheets of spray drenched the windshield. Salt water overpowered the wipers for seconds at a time. It didn’t matter to Jake. He was running on
radar,
skill, nerve, and necessity.

Honor didn’t bother screaming or pointing out the new blip on the radar screen. Obviously Jake had already seen it. There was no other reason he would have the SeaSport going flat out over choppy water. With unnatural calm she watched the
radar
screen. The gap they were racing toward closed in little jerks with each new sweep of the
radar.

The freighter leaned on its horn
again.
She looked out the window and saw an immense shape looming. Her breath locked in her chest. She couldn’t have screamed if she had wanted to.

The
Tomorrow
flew over the chop and across the freighter’s bow with seconds to spare.

No sooner had they cleared the freighter than a new threat leaped out. Jake had an instant to recognize the outline of a
big Alaska seiner before he brought the bow around hard. The SeaSport skidded, jerked, and bit into the water again.

They shot past the second boat. They were so close Honor could count the rust streaks streaming from the anchor chain. She knew she would be counting them in her nightmares.

The seiner’s wake hit them like a fist, but Jake was prepared. He had already chopped back speed and angled the bow to minimize the impact. Even so, the boat lifted and dropped sickeningly, slamming into the surface of the sea as though it were concrete rather than salt water.

Honor stared at the radar like a bird at a snake, waiting for the next piece of bad news.

The screen was clear of everything but a small boat racing toward them from the solid mass of the island ahead. Even as she spotted the Coast Guard Zodiac, it must have spotted them. The radio crackled to life.

Jake switched channels and picked up the microphone to answer Conroy’s query.

“Tomorrow
here. No damage.”

“Nice bit of driving”, Conroy responded. “Vasi’s seiner
couldn’t see you.”

“Didn’t the freighter warn him?”

“From what I gathered while you were outrunning them, the freighter’s radar has been ‘spotty’ and no one on board the seiner spoke enough English in any case. Or was it Russian they didn’t speak and the seiner’s radar that was spotty?”

Conroy’s sarcastic tone said plainly that he wasn’t impressed by the explanations he had heard.

“No harm, no foul”, Jake said.

“That was too close.”

“No argument here.”

“Maybe you should stay off the water for a while.”

“Officially?”

“Since when has common sense been official?” Conroy
shot back.

Jake laughed and signed off the air. Before he could hang up the microphone, another call came in on the hailing frequency. He listened to the request, switched channels, and looked at Honor before he turned on the microphone.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She nodded.

“You’re sure?”

“A few bruises on my rear end. No big deal.”

He smiled slowly, relief and something more, something hotter.

“Anything that happens to your rear end is a big deal as far as I’m concerned”, he said. “You fit like you were made just for me.”

“Stop talking about…”

A burst from the radio cut across her words. “Jake, it is Petyr. Profound apologies, my friend. Are you me listening? Ah, excuse please. Excitement too much. Are you hearing me?”

Jake looked at the microphone as though it had just bitten him. Of all the bad news he had heard since Kyle disappeared, Petyr Resnikov could easily be the worst.

“I’m hearing you”, Jake said into the microphone. “Which boat are you
aboard?”

“The freighter. The captain is quite angry, but you know how silly seafaring peasants are. He insists it was your fault even though his
radar
is, shall I say, inconsistent?”

“So I was told. What are you doing in this half of the world?” Jake asked bluntly.

Laughter came out of the speaker. “Ah, Jacob. You have not changed.”

“Have you?”

“Cheerfully, not a whittle. If you will come on board as soon as we dock, you and I may toast one another with some of Russia’s best vodka.”

Jake had no intention of getting aboard anything with Petyr Resnikov until he knew who was paying the Russian. “Not this time”, Jake said easily. “I’m doing something
else this afternoon.”

“But of course. Bring the beautiful, artistic Miss Donovan with you. If she is as charming as the brother Kyle, she will be a glowing companion.”

Jake glanced toward Honor. At the moment she looked more rattled than charming.

“Some other time”, he said into the radio.

Like never. He had no intention of letting Honor within a hundred yards of the elegant, rapierlike Russian.

“Ah, Jacob, you sadden me”, Resnikov said calmly. “May I insist? For – how do you say it? – reason of older times?”

The gentle tones didn’t mislead Jake. He had just been given an invitation he shouldn’t refuse.

“Meet me at the Chowder Keg in two hours”, Jake said.

Silently Jake turned off the ignition of his truck. He looked at Honor. She had changed into fitted black jeans, a bronze turtleneck sweater, and a black linen jacket. She wore a hand-wrought gold necklace. Its pendant was a stylized, rock crystal and jet spiral in the ancient yin and yang design. He knew without asking that she had designed it.

He looked across the sidewalk at the weathered, win-dowless front door that belonged to the Chowder Keg and wished he had chosen one of the town’s more upscale diners. It had been years since he had braved the smoke and sour smell of grease in order to eat what was arguably the best clam chowder in the Pacific Northwest. He had forgotten just how disreputable the place looked. And was.

Honor reached for the door handle on her side. Jake’s long arm shot across her and held the door closed. She yanked her hand out from under his as though she had been burned.

“Look”, he said. “This isn’t your kind of place. Too many guys from the fish boats.”

“You don’t know me well enough to know what kind of place is or isn’t my kind.”

His hand tightened over hers. He gave her a look that said he was remembering everything about last night.

“Honey, I know you from your forehead to the soles of your feet and all the sweet places in between. The Chowder Keg is hard, dirty, ratty, and rough. You aren’t.”

Honor knew she was probably blushing. She hoped the color would be written off as anger.

“You’re wasting time”, she said, refusing to look at Jake. “I’m going inside with you.”

“Why?”

“Guess”, she said through her teeth.

“You don’t trust me.”

“Aren’t you a clever boy. But we already knew that, didn’t we?”

For
a
few moments there were no sounds but those Jake
made controlling his breathing.

“You’re going to push me until I lose my temper, aren’t you?” he asked evenly. “Then you’re going to tell me what a nasty, overbearing, untrustworthy son of a bitch I am.”

“Why would I tell you something you already know?”

“Do you want to find your brother or do you want to keep
baiting me?”

Honor looked at the powerful arm barred across her body. Jake wasn’t touching her – but if she took a deep breath she would be touching him.

“Don’t bother to loom over me”, she said. “You need me too much to threaten me physically.”

“You need me just as much. Remember that and bridle
your tongue.”

For an instant Honor saw nothing except the hot rush of
her own blood darkening the world.

“Look who’s talking about pushing”, she said when she could trust her voice. “If you’re trying to make me lose my temper and rush off in a snit, forget it. Kyle means too much to me.”

“You love him.”

“Of course I do.”

“What about me?”

“What about you?” she retorted.

“You sure do fall out of love easily”, he said in a soft cold voice.

Honor flinched. Until that moment she had actually hoped Jake hadn’t heard her foolish, whispered declaration of love. “Easy come, easy go”, she said with a tight shrug. “Move your arm.”

“Look at me.”

She didn’t turn her head one bit.

“Stop acting like a spoiled child”, he said. “Petyr Resnikov is a shrewd, handsome womanizer who supposedly no longer works for the KGB. I don’t believe it. You shouldn’t. At best we might be able to use Pete to find the amber. At worst he’ll use us. If you don’t stop acting like I’m a bad smell, I can guarantee that we’ll be the ones who get used.”

“What do you want from me?” she asked tightly.

Jake looked at Honor’s stiff posture and was tempted to shock her by telling her exactly what he wanted, when he wanted it, and how he wanted it. But that wouldn’t improve the situation one bit.

“An act”, he said.

“What do you
mean?”

“I
want you to act like I’m an all-day sucker and you can’t wait to lick me. I’ll do the same with you.”

“I’m not that good an actress.”

“You were before Archer called the second time.”

She started to retort that it hadn’t been an act then. Just in time she saw the trap and bit off the protest. “I’ll do what I can.”

“You can start by looking at me.”

Honor clenched her hands. Then she deliberately relaxed her fingers and turned to look at Jake. Not his eyes, though.

She really didn’t want to see the male contempt in them for a silly, easy female conquest.

“Anything else?” she asked through pale lips.

“Pete will want to know what our relationship is.”

“I hired you to handle my brother’s boat.”

“And?”

“That’s what you’re doing.”

“Then why are we sleeping together?”

“We aren’t.”

“Wrong answer. If you think I’m going to lie awake in the boat wondering when some other
mafiya
hopeful will prowl through the cottage, you’re nuts.”

“No. I’m not sleeping with you.”

“Whether you sleep or not is your problem. Mine is making sure I’m the only one in your bed.”

“No.”

“All right. We’ll do it your way.”

At first Honor didn’t think she had heard correctly. Before she could ask Jake to repeat it, he was talking again.

“I’ll arrange your ticket to Tahiti and some husky types to handle your luggage.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Wrong again. You have two choices – me as your roommate while we look for Kyle, or Tahiti and bodyguards. Take your pick, Ms. Donovan.”

“You can’t force me to…”

“I can damn well make sure that you’re taken out of the game”, he interrupted savagely. “If you don’t believe me, keep pushing. The only way you’ll find out about Kyle will be in
the newspapers.”

This time Honor looked at Jake, really looked at him. There was nothing smug or superior about him. He was as coldly furious as she was. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought he was the one who had been betrayed rather than her.