Diamond Bay (16 page)

Tod Ellis gave her his bright college smile. "It's nice to
see you again, Ms. Jones. I thought I'd check in with you, make sure
everything's okay."

It was a pretty weak excuse for driving miles out of his way.
Rachel stepped around Joe and walked out to the car in an effort to keep Ellis
from looking toward the house. It wasn't likely that Kell would let himself be
seen, but she didn't want to take any chances. "Yes, everything's
okay," she said cheerfully, going around the car and standing at the door
so he had to turn his back to the house in order to face her. "Hot, but
okay. Did you ever find that man you were hunting?"

"No, not a trace. You haven't seen anything?"

"Not even at a distance, and Joe always lets me know if
anyone's around."

The mention of the dog made Ellis jerk his head around for a quick
look as if to check Joe's location; the dog was still standing in the middle of
the yard, his eyes locked on the intruder, low growls still rumbling in his
chest. Ellis cleared his throat, then turned back to Rachel. "It's a good
thing you've got him, living way out here by yourself. You can't be too
careful."

She laughed. "Well, actually you can. Look at Howard Hughes.
But I feel safe with Joe guarding the place."

She couldn't be certain, because of the dark glasses shading his
eyes, but she thought he kept looking at her legs and breasts. Alarm skittered
through her, and she had to fight down the urge to check her buttons; had she
buttoned the blouse straight? If not, it was too late now, and he had no reason
to think she had been in the house, kissing the very man he was hunting.

Then abruptly he laughed, too, and took off his sunglasses,
dangling them from his fingers. "I didn't come out here, to check on
you." He leaned his forearm on top of the open car door, his posture
relaxed and confident. With his clean-cut good looks he was accustomed to
approval from women. "I came to ask you out to dinner. I know you don't
know me, but my credentials are respectable. What do you say?"

Rachel didn't have to fake her confusion; it was real. She had no
idea how she should answer him. If she went out with him it would go a long way
toward convincing him she knew nothing about Kell, but on the other hand, it
might encourage Agent Ellis to come around again, and she didn't want that. Why
were they still here, anyway? Why hadn't they moved farther down the coast in
their search for Kell?

"Why, I don't know," she replied, stammering a little.
"When?"

"Tonight, if you don't have other plans."

God, this was making her paranoid! If they had seen Kell, then
this could be a ploy to get her out of the house so there would be no
witnesses. If not, she might make him suspicious if
she
acted too
suspicious. All this second-guessing could drive her crazy. Finally she went on
her instincts.
Agent
Ellis hadn't tried to hide his male admiration for her the first time they'd
met, so she was going to take his invitation at face value.
If nothing else, she might be able to get some information from
him.

"I think I'd like that," she finally said. "What
did you have in mind? I'm not much of a party person."

He gave her his boyish grin again. "You're safe. I'm not into
the punk scene, either. I'm too squeamish to stick safety pins through my
cheeks. What I had in mind was a quiet restaurant and a good, thick
steak."

And a roll in bed afterward? He'd be disappointed. "You're
on," Rachel said. "What time?"

"Say, eight o'clock?
It'll be sundown by then and cooling off,
I hope."

She laughed. "I would say you get used to it, but all you do
is learn to cope with it. The humidity is what gets you. All right, eight
o'clock it is. I'll be ready."

He gave her a little salute and folded himself back under the
steering wheel. Rachel walked back into the yard so she wouldn't get covered
with dust when he drove off, and watched until the blue Ford was out of sight.

Kell was waiting for her inside, his eyes narrow and cold.
"What did he want?"

"To ask me out to dinner," she replied slowly. "I
didn't know what to say.
Going out with him might keep him from being suspicious, or he could be
asking me out just
to get me out of the house.
Maybe they've seen you. Maybe they just want to search."

"They haven't seen me," he said. "Or I wouldn't
still be alive. What excuse did you give him?"

"I accepted."

Rachel had known he wouldn't be pleased, but she hadn't expected
the reaction she got. His head snapped around, and his eyes burned with black
fire, his usual cool remoteness shattered. "Hell, no, you're not. Get that
idea out of your head, lady."

"It's too late. It might really make him suspicious if I made
some weak excuse now."

He shoved his hands into his pants
pockets, and in petrified fascination Rachel watched them ball into fists.
"He's a murderer and a traitor. I've been doing a lot of
thinking since I recognized him before they blew up my boat, tying together
some details about things that went wrong when they shouldn't have, and Tod
Ellis is connected in some little way to every one of those plans. You're not
going out with him."

Rachel didn't back down. "Yes," she said. "I am. If
nothing else,
I
may be able to pick up some information that will help
you – "

She broke off with a gasp; he had jerked his hands out of his
pockets and reached for her so rapidly that she hadn't had time to move back.
His hard fingers closed on her shoulders in a grip that bruised, and he shook
her slightly, his face hard and set with rage.

"Damn you," he whispered, the words barely audible as he
pushed them between his clenched teeth. "When will you learn that this
isn't something for amateurs to play with? You're in way over your head, and
you don't have the sense to realize it! You aren't still in college playing a game
of Assassination, sugar. Get that through your skull!
Damn it," he swore again, releasing her shoulders and running
his hand through his hair. "You've been lucky so far that you haven't
blundered around and really screwed things up, but how long do you expect that
luck to last? You're dealing with a cold-blooded professional!"

Rachel stepped back from him, putting her hand up to rub her
aching shoulder. Something inside her had gone very still at his attack; that
stillness was reflected on her face. "Which one?" she finally asked
quietly. "Tod Ellis… or you?"

She turned and walked away from him, going into the bathroom and
closing the door; it was the one place in the house where he wouldn't follow.
She sat down on the rim of the tub, shaking; she had wondered occasionally what
it would be like if he slipped the tight rein of his control, but she hadn't
wanted to find out like that. She had wanted him to lose control when he kissed
her, touched her. Wanted him to shake with need and desire and bury his face
against her. She hadn't wanted him to lose control in anger, hadn't wanted to hear
what he really thought of her efforts to help.
She had been terrified all along of doing
something wrong that might jeopardize him; she had agonized over every
decision, and he had dismissed her from the start as a bumbling amateur.
She knew she didn't have his knowledge or expertise, but she had
done the best she could.

It was doubly painful after the way he had kissed her and touched
her, but now she remembered that even then he had retained his steely control.
It had been she who trembled and yearned, not him. He hadn't even lied to her;
he'd told her plainly that it was nothing more to him than casual sex.

Taking a deep breath, Rachel gathered herself together.
Since she was in the bathroom she
might as well shower now; that would give her straight, heavy hair time to dry
naturally and she wouldn't have to do anything to it except give it lift
and curve with the curling iron. She might be going out with Tod Ellis with all
the enthusiasm of attending an execution, but she wouldn't let him think that
she looked on it as anything other than a real date, and that meant taking
pains with her appearance.

She stripped off and got in the
shower, briskly shampooing her hair and bathing, not allowing herself the
luxury of brooding. Selfpity wouldn't accomplish anything except wasting time,
time that would be better spent considering how to conduct herself that night,
how to be friendly without being encouraging.
The last thing she wanted was for Ellis to ask her out again! If
he did, she'd have to make up some excuse. She'd told Agent Lowell she was
making a trip to the Keys; it had been pure fabrication, but perhaps she could
use the lie as an excuse for packing, planning and so on.

She turned off the water and dragged a towel off the top of the
shower door, then wrapped it around her head. Just as she started to slide the
door open and step out of the tub she caught sight of Kell's blurred image
through the frosted door, and she jerked her hand back from the door as if it
had burned her.

"Get out of here," she breathed sharply, snatching the
towel off her head and wrapping it around her body, instead. The frosted
surface of the doors gave her some protection, but if she could see him, he
could see just as much of her. Knowing that he had watched her bathe made her feel
terribly vulnerable. How long had he been there?

She saw his hand reaching out, and she moved back against the
shower wall as he slid the door open on its track. "You didn't answer when
I called you," he said curtly. "I wanted to make certain you were okay."

Rachel lifted her chin. "That's not much of an excuse. As
soon as you saw I was taking a shower, you should have left."

His eyes raked over her, from her wet, tangled hair to her
glistening shoulders and down to her slim, bare legs, which had rivulets of
water running down them. The towel covered her from breast to thigh, but it
would take only a tug to bare her completely, and his black, searching eyes had
a way of making her feel even more exposed than she was.

"I'm sorry," he said abruptly, finally lifting his gaze
to her face.
"I
didn't intend to imply that you haven't been a
help."

"You didn't imply any such thing," Rachel returned, her
voice sharp. "You came right out and said it." She felt both insulted
and hurt, and she wasn't in the mood to forgive him. After what he had said, he
had a lot of nerve to stand there eyeing her the way he was doing!

Suddenly he moved, hooking his right arm around her waist and
lifting her out of the tub. Rachel gasped, clutching at him for balance.
"Watch out! Your shoulder – "

He stood her on the fuzzy bath mat, his face hard and unreadable
as he looked down at her, his right arm still locked around her waist. "I
don't want you going out with him," he finally rasped. "Damn it,
Rachel, I don't want you taking any risks on my account!"

The towel was slipping, and Rachel grabbed for the ends to anchor
it more securely. "Why can't you give me any credit for being an adult,
able to accept responsibility for my own actions?" she cried. "You
told me Tod Ellis is a traitor, and I believe you. Don't you think I have a
moral responsibility to do what I can to stop him and to help you? I think the
situation is critical enough to warrant the risk! It's my decision, not
yours."

"You never should have been involved."

"Why not? You said yourself that you'll have to have help.
You've sent other people into dangerous situations, haven't you?"

"They were trained agents," he snapped, goaded.
"And, damn it to hell, I never lay awake at night burning to make love to
any of them."

She fell silent, her eyes wide as they searched his. His
expression gave away nothing but anger and a faintly startled look, as if he
hadn't meant to say that. The arm around her waist had her arched against him,
though she had wedged her arm between their bodies in an effort to hold the
towel. Only her toes touched the mat. Her thighs were inside his slightly
spread legs, his growing hardness nestled against the soft mound at the top of
her thighs.

They said nothing, both of them very aware of what was happening.
Their chests expanded and fell rapidly as their breathing quickened, and
Rachel's knees grew weak as she felt him grow stronger and bolder.

"I'd kill him before I let him touch you," he muttered,
the words wrenched from him.

She shuddered at the thought. "
I
wouldn't let him.
Never." Staring up at him, she shuddered again, as if she'd been struck
between the eyes. Tod Ellis had made her realize anew how much danger stalked Kell's
heels. She wasn't guaranteed three weeks with him; she wasn't guaranteed
tomorrow, or even tonight. For men such as Kell Sabin there was no tomorrow,
only the present; it was the brutal truth that he could be killed, that tragedy
and terror could strike without warning. She had already learned that lesson
once; how could she have been so stupid as to forget? She had wanted things to
be perfect, wanted him to feel as she felt, but life was never perfect. It had
to be taken as it was, or it passed by without a second glance.
All she
had with Kell was right now, the eternal present, because the past is
always gone and the future never comes.