Danger in Paradise (8 page)

* * * * *

Luke clenched his fists at his sides. The urge to follow after Hope clawed at him, but he stayed where he was in an effort to give her privacy. He’d seen her get sick through the kitchen window, but hadn’t wanted to intrude. She wasn’t the kind of woman to show weakness and while he respected that, she called to the most primitive, protective side of him. Whether it was because he thought she might be Anna, he didn’t know. But he was pretty sure that had nothing to do with it.

Last night he’d been more pissed at himself than the situation. He should have protected her. Then when that coconut had slammed against her head with a sickening thud, he’d lost ten years of his life. He’d have given his left nut to trade places with her in that instant. She’d hung there looking so helpless and there hadn’t been a damn thing he could do about it until they landed. And then to endure the torture of having to undress her. He’d tried to ignore her smooth, lean body but it had been damn near impossible to avoid looking at her the entire time. He rubbed a hand over his face as if he could somehow erase the memory of what she’d looked like. Unfortunately he couldn’t.

The woman might look like his childhood friend, but Maria had never made him feel the way Hope did. She was getting under his skin in a bad way and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. He wasn’t sure he wanted to.

Sighing, Luke pulled up his computer’s history. The screen flashed to life, but instead of a picture of Richard Taylor, he found a picture of the man’s son. He tapped his finger against the wireless mouse as he tried to put together the disjointed puzzle pieces in his head.

Hope was telling the truth about not knowing Richard Taylor. He was almost sure of it. Unless she led a double life as an actress, she’d been just as confused as he had. As he stared at Patrick Taylor’s picture, a thought entered his mind. He pulled out his phone and hit redial.

“Miss me already?” Kyle Vargas, his smart-ass partner answered on the first ring.

“Do me a favor and see if you can run Patrick Taylor’s records.”

“That’s the son, right?”

“Yeah.”

“No problem. Why? Should I be looking for anything specific?”

“Just a hunch I have. Find out where he went to college. See if he had any incidents there and see if he’s got a rap sheet.”

“I’ll call you as soon as I find anything.”

After they disconnected, Luke knocked on Hope’s door. If she wanted to be alone, fine. He had to make sure she wasn’t sick from her head injury, though. “Hope? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just resting.”

“Are you sure? I could—”

“I said I’m fine!”

He dropped his arm to his side, sighed, cleaned up the kitchen, and tried to think about anything but Hope.

So far, he’d had Kyle increase the Santiagos’ security just in case this had anything to do with them. He doubted it did, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He couldn’t call anyone other than his partner because he was supposed to be invisible, aka dead, for the next three days.  Sonja would probably go crazy not being able to contact him, but that’s the way it had to be.

After two hours and the tenth glance at his watch, he decided to knock on Hope’s door. He stopped when his cell phone buzzed. It was his partner again. “Hey.”

“I just emailed you a list of Patrick Taylor’s
indiscretions
. This guy’s a real winner.” Kyle’s voice was grim.

“All right, give me a second. I need to pull up my account.” He moved back to the kitchen table.

“Okay. By the way, Maria and Sonja called and they’re pissed they can’t get a hold of you. I told them you were out of cell range.”

He leaned back in the cushioned chair as his computer flared back to life. “They can deal. I’ll be back by Friday or Saturday.” If they didn’t have any news after three days, he’d think about giving it another two before taking matters into his own hands. They could only pretend to be dead for so long and he wasn’t letting anything happen to Hope.

“I think I managed to hold them off for a couple days.”

“Good.” In case anyone was listening to the Santiagos’ calls, the official story was that he wasn’t reachable by phone. And Kyle was only calling him from a secure location. He didn’t think Richard Taylor would look into their deaths once the man he’d hired gave him proof. And he had no doubt that man had concocted some sort of proof. He was obviously a professional.

“Have you pulled up your email yet?”

“It’s coming up right now.” He opened the attachment and scrolled down the list of Taylor’s indiscretions. After he got to the second page, he wanted to put his fist through Patrick Taylor’s face. “You weren’t kidding,” he muttered.

“Call me if it’s important, but if not, I won’t bother you until Thursday.”

They disconnected, and Luke tried to digest the expansive report Kyle had put together. Taylor’s father had covered up—meaning paid off—a couple women Patrick assaulted in college. He’d been charged with sexual assault on a minor a few times, but the charges never stuck. Which probably meant his father had paid those families off, too.

When he got to the third page, the door to Hope’s bedroom creaked open so he quickly shut down his email. He turned to face her, and it felt like a knife embedded in his chest. Her eyes were slightly puffy and red. It wasn’t hard to figure out the rest. Looked like his hunch was right.

He opened his mouth to ask what had happened with her and Patrick Taylor, but the vulnerable look in her pale eyes wouldn’t allow him. Instead he asked, “Do you want to take advantage of the weather and go swimming?”

The relief in her eyes was so palpable his gut twisted. He wanted nothing more than to comfort her. For the time being he’d hold off on his questions. He wouldn’t be the cause of her pain.

“Let me change.” Hope’s lips curved into a smile. Once again she disappeared into her room.

After changing into swim trunks, Luke left his phone, but brought two towels. He kept a gun wrapped in one and waited in the backyard. They were on a private beach, so he wasn’t worried about anyone stealing or discovering it. It was his just-in-case weapon.

The thought of being without any outside communication for the next three days was strange, but he couldn’t think of one other person he’d rather spend those days with.

That thought alone unsettled him. He was just getting to know Hope. He
wanted
to know everything about her, but she seemed determined to keep him at arm’s length.

A few minutes later she walked out the sliding glass door connected to her room wearing a blue one-piece bathing suit, carrying two disposable cameras and two underwater masks. His mouth went dry at the sight of her. Her suit covered everything, but the way the Lycra material clung to her curves had to be a sin. Looking at her made him think of pure sex. The suit molded perfectly to her softly rounded breasts and he could just see the outline of her nipples—

“You okay?” Her head cocked slightly to the side as she looked at him.

“What are those for?” he gestured to the cameras, knowing how stupid the question sounded, but he had to say something.

She tossed one to him as she walked up. “I thought it might be fun to take pictures.”

“You’re not going to bring one of your professional cameras?”

She shrugged as they walked toward the private sandy beach. “There isn’t a reef so the pictures won’t be that interesting, and honestly, I didn’t feel like pulling all my gear out. I’m still trying to grasp…” She shook her head and sighed.

He could understand why she didn’t want to think or work. Having someone try to kill you was definitely out of the ordinary for someone like her. It was out of the ordinary for him, too. At least now. Back in his military days he’d seen some action, but now he usually dealt with white collar criminals trying to rip off the Santiagos.

Not exactly riveting excitement.

To be honest, he was surprised she hadn’t freaked out yet. Most women he dated got annoyed if they had to wait too long for the valet driver. Hope was under an insane amount of stress, yet she hadn’t complained.

The grass sloped downward until they reached the beach. He dug his feet into the warm sand and tried to remember the last time he’d taken a vacation. Technically this wasn’t a vacation, but he had nothing to do and no one to bother them for the next few days.

They laid their towels out in the sand, but he made sure to keep his gun covered. No need to worry her unnecessarily. He could practically see the gears turning in her head. Unless he’d completely misread the situation, she knew who was after her and why. However, he couldn’t figure out what her plan was. And he couldn’t ask without admitting what he knew. Or thought he knew.

“How long has it been since you’ve taken a vacation?”

She glanced up at his question and laughed self-deprecatingly. “Is it sad that I can’t remember?”

“Good, now I don’t feel so pathetic,” he said as he walked with her down to the ocean. She didn’t seem as paranoid about her scars as before and he was relieved. He didn’t give a shit about something like that. If anything, they made her more beautiful. Hell, he had a few scars of his own. He’d served four years in the Marines in Force Recon. Half his scars were from training alone.

A few ripples played across the clear water as they waded in. Except for a handful of sailboats dotting the bay, they were basically alone. Exactly like he wanted. The salty smell enveloped them the deeper they went.

He decided a few small questions couldn’t hurt. If he gained her trust, she might open up to him. “Those were some pretty impressive moves last night.”

Without glancing in his direction she waded deeper. “I’ve been studying aikido for over a decade.”

Damn.
“Do you have any idea why someone is after you?”

“No.” She shook her head before completely submersing herself in the water. When she came back up, drops of water glistened off her eyelashes, face, and body. Her hardened nipples were visible through the sheer material of her suit and he tried to ignore his physical response. Not that it did any good. She was his living, breathing fantasy, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. It wasn’t even her physical appearance. No doubt she was smoking hot, but she looked just like his childhood friend. It was the way she handled herself. In what should be one of the toughest situations she’d possibly ever faced, she’d handled herself like a pro.

That alone was sexy.

He mentally shook his head. He couldn’t think about that. There were more important things at stake. “It’s just strange that—”

With a wave of her hand, she interrupted him. “Can we just take a break from all this for a couple hours? My head hurts from thinking about everything and talking isn’t making it better.” Her pale blue eyes silently begged him.

When had he turned into such a pushover? “Sure. Just point and click right?” He held up the plastic-covered camera.

She waded near and held up hers. “Yep, just make sure you use a flash at all times.”

“Why? It’s the middle of the day.”

“Water absorbs light at an alarming rate. Your suit will probably turn out almost black in the pictures.” She motioned to his dark red swim trunks.

Something tickled his legs so he looked down. She did the same. A sea of tiny silver fish rushed past them.

A playful grin pulled at her lips. “Come on. Let’s swim a little deeper.”

Before he could respond, she put her mask in place and dove under, camera in hand. He followed suit, but barely kept pace with her. He kept in shape by running and occasionally swimming laps, but she was an exceptionally strong swimmer. If they were on land, he had no doubt he’d be a stronger runner, but in the water she was like a fish. Or a graceful mermaid. He had to return to the surface for air more than twice as fast as she did.

There wasn’t a reef close by, but the colorful tropical fish and Hope in a bathing suit was enough entertainment for him. A huge sea turtle swam by, and he tried to take a few pictures, but forgot the flash. Yeah, he definitely wasn’t cut out for this, but admired that Hope could do this for hours and days on end. She somehow managed to keep herself buoyed down and still take pictures of a school of fish. She must have sensed him watching her because she turned around and smiled. She waved, but her eyes widened suddenly and she frantically pointed behind him.

He turned and came face to face with a funny-looking fish. It was striped red, brown, and yellow, and looked like it had spines. Almost like a dragon. Maybe she wanted a picture. He pulled up his camera again, but before he could snap a picture, Hope’s arm encircled his waist and yanked him backward. He tensed, but didn’t fight her. Instead he joined in kicking backward.

Seconds later they resurfaced. He started to ask what was wrong, but she didn’t give him a chance.

“Swim, now.” Her voice held no room for argument.

He matched her stroke for stroke until they were sitting in shallow water by the shore. He was slightly panting but she was barely winded.

“What was that all about?” He took off his mask and tossed it behind him. It landed in the sand with a thump.

“That was a lion fish, and if it had stung you, your leg would have swelled and knotted up.” She crossed her legs, then twisted water out of her hair.

“It didn’t look dangerous.” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to shake out the excess water.

Hope chuckled. “Trust me, you’d have been howling in pain if that thing had touched you. They’re not native to these waters, but for some reason they’ve been migrating across the ocean. Worse, they don’t have any natural enemies.”

Being stung would have been icing on the cake for how their week was going. The only thing he knew to stay away from was sharks so he couldn’t help but be impressed. “Uh, thanks then.”

She laughed again and leaned over toward him. Surprised by her casual movements, he instinctively moved back. He wanted to get close to her, but every fiber in his body told him what could happen between them if he let her get too close. “What?”

“You’ve got seaweed stuck to your face.” She reached out and her hand grazed his cheek. Her soft touch sent an electric jolt through his body.

Without thinking, he caught her wrist, encircling it with his fingers. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t pull away. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips as her eyes fell to his mouth. He watched her breathing slightly hitch as she brought her gaze back up to his. She was a hard woman to read but if her heart was pounding as loud as his, they were both in trouble. Neither said anything for a long moment. He could hear a few birds and a loud horn in the distance. Other than that, the sound of his heartbeat pounding in his ears overtook everything else. Including his ability to think rationally.

He knew what he was about to do was a mistake, but in the moment before their lips met, he couldn’t think of one good reason why he should stop.

Luke was going to kiss her. Hope knew it. She also knew it was a mistake, but she didn’t care.  Her entire body was on fire just thinking about it. That had never happened before. Men usually affected her with disgust or indifference. Not this searing need to feel his body against hers. Over hers.

Consuming her.

The second their lips met, all coherent thought fled. His kiss was soft and gentle, not what she’d expected from a man like him. Everything else about him was hard and intense, but he kissed her like a man with all the time in the world. He tugged on her bottom lip gently, teasingly. All the air left her lungs and she had to remind herself to breathe. As their lips and tongues danced, so much tension ebbed from her body.

Without much warning, his hands strayed to her waist and he shifted her so that she straddled him. The feel of her inner thighs sliding against his outer legs created an interesting friction. And the pulsing between her legs…she shuddered.

He straightened his position so she clutched his shoulders for support. Her body was undergoing an assault of new sensations. With her eyes closed, everything seemed intensified tenfold. The sound of the ocean, the feel of his hands caressing down her sides, the aching between her legs. Luke trailed his hands  higher until his fingers slid through her wet hair and pulled her closer. His grip wasn’t rough or tight. Which gave her another sense of security.

He pulled his mouth away and her eyes flew open. Inches apart, their gazes clashed. His eyes filled with lust, she knew he wasn’t going to stop. Not unless she told him to. He lifted his eyebrows in a silent question.
Did she want him to stop?
Unable to find her voice, she shook her head.

Something indefinable flashed in his eyes, but his head dipped and he raked his teeth over her neck before she could form any more thoughts. When his tongue flicked over her pulse point she jumped at the erotic gesture. Being on top of him gave her an advantage and made her feel almost powerful. More in control of the situation. Which was what she desperately needed.

She squeezed her legs together in a vain attempt to ease the growing ache. This was new to her. This growing need. She felt a little lightheaded, out of control. His mouth moved leisurely along her neck and collarbone as he tested her response. She arched her back closer to him, not exactly sure what she wanted, just that she needed him touching her. When she shifted her body, he rubbed a thumb over one of her hardened nipples.

It was over the stretchy material, not even on her bare body, but the effect was almost torturous. She jolted at the new sensations zinging through her body.

He paused and pulled his head back. One hand hovered on her bathing suit strap. “I want to see you.”

This was all happening so fast. Too fast though? Other than Luke’s piercing gaze, the sound of her heartbeat pounding in her ears was the only thing she was aware of.

Unsure of her own voice, she nodded. He pulled down the two straps of her suit, one at a time. The feel of them sliding down her arms made her shiver. And the possessive, appreciative way he stared at her did something strange to her stomach.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured against her neck as he kissed his way down to her breasts.

Her lower abdomen tightened when he rolled his tongue over a nipple. She was so close to finding release, she knew she wouldn’t last much longer. He hadn’t touched her anywhere else, and she was ready to combust. The juncture between her legs was incredibly wet. It made no sense, but her body was responding as if she’d been living in a convent for the past decade. In erotic little circles, he licked and teased her nipples with the same devotion he’d paid to her mouth and neck.

Her hands dug into his back as she tried to ground herself back in reality. It was useless. With each little flick she pushed closer and closer to orgasm.

When his hand moved between her legs, momentary panic threatened to settle, but he didn’t attempt to move the material separating them. He simply rubbed over her clit through her bathing suit and simultaneously sucked hard on one breast. And she came. Just like that.