A Thousand Kisses Deep (10 page)

She forced her eyes open, parted her lips to speak, but nothing came out. Sly McEwen was no longer there. He'd left her without making a sound.

Sly made it through the sump in under four minutes. When he surfaced behind a sizable rock, he saw that the short stocky guard, the one with the hairy face, had boarded Eva's skiff. He dived for the anchor attached to the skiff and moved it closer to the outcropping of rocks, carrying the boat with him on the tide.

When he surfaced, he heard the other guard yelling.

"Hey, Gino, what are you doing with the boat? Why did you pull the anchor?"

"I did nothing with the anchor, Ennis. A fish musta bitten the rope. You think?"

"It would have to be a big fish."

Sly saw Gino stand up and peer into the water searching for the reason the boat had gone adrift. Sly swam behind the rock again to listen to the exchange. "Where is she, Ennis?" Gino asked. "If we lose her we are dead."

"She likes the caves. She's just down there lying on a rock," Ennis assured his friend.

"Naked, you think? She has nice tits."

"I like her legs. You can dream about your hands on her tits. Mine are on her legs wrapped around my waist."

The men chuckled and exchanged more talk about what they would like to do to Eva Creon on an isolated sandy beach.

Sly grew anxious. He glanced at his watch, and knew that for someone in pain, minutes seemed like hours. He didn't want Eva alone too long in the cave. Leaving the knife with her had been a stupid idea. So was that crack about her using it on herself if he didn't come back. He didn't think she would be stupid enough to try to swim the sump, but if she thought he'd left her, would she slit her wrists?

He was angry with her, with good reason, but he wanted her alive.

Aware he would have to create a diversion to speed things up, he slipped away from the rock and swam beneath the boat. Nudging the boat with his shoulder—like a big fish—he heard Gino cry out in surprise.

"What was that, Ennis? Ennis, did you see it? Something hit the boat."

"I saw nothing."

Sly made another pass under the boat, rocking the skiff harder. On the third pass, he pitched the boat out of the water and forced Gino to lose his balance. As the man plunged headfirst into the water, Sly rocked the boat on its side, snagged Eva's bag and disappeared into the depths.

Four minutes later he found Eva where he'd left her. Her eyes were closed, and her hand was curled around his knife.

He left the water, opening her pack as he came to his knees beside her. He stripped off his vest and goggles, located the pills, then scooped her up and pulled her into his lap.

"Come on, Evy," he muttered, "open your eyes."

She blinked, stared up at him. "You came back," she whispered, her head cradled against his shoulder.

"Open your mouth."

She did, and he fed her the pills. She swallowed them, then took a swig of the juice he also found in her pack. She closed her emerald eyes seconds later and sank into him with a little shiver.

Sly leaned against a rock and curled his arms around her body. "Sleep it off," he said. "I'll be here when you wake up."

She snuggled closer and whispered, "I believe you."

Chapter 8

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^
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T
wo days later Sly stood on the deck of the
Hector,
an eighty-foot motor yacht, and looked out on the
harbor
of
Mykonos
at sunset. He was still waiting for Bjorn to return his phone call. The message he'd left two days ago had been short and to the point. Call me.

It was possible that Bjorn wasn't back from
Montana
yet, but patience wasn't one of Sly's strong suits. Oh, he could be patient if he had his enemy in sight, waiting for him to make the wrong move, but the Chameleon's whereabouts was still anyone's guess, and he hadn't figured out how Simon Parish fit in yet. He'd looked into Parish's finances, and so far all his investments looked legit. Of course, that wasn't unusual. Even lunatics could be geniuses.

When his cell phone rang, Sly pulled it from his pocket and looked at the number. Receiver to his ear, he said, "It's about time."

"I just walked in. What's up?"

"I need something."

"Ask and you shall receive," Bjorn said. "At least that's the way it's supposed to work."

"I need the file on Paavo Creon right away."

"Last time we spoke you wanted just a picture. Now you want me to steal his entire file?"

"Make two copies. Stash one, then bring me the other one."

"Bring you a copy? You mean fly to
Greece
?"

"Do we have a bad connection, or are you just trying to piss me off?"

"Since the Castle Rock mission, security at headquarters has been beefed up. It's as tight as
Fort
Knox
."

"It's always been tight. Besides, you like tight spots."

"Cute. I take it the investigation is paying off."

"Maybe."

"Just maybe?"

"Make up some excuse why you need to get into the archives. I want everything you can get on Creon."

"I'll see what I can do. How's the weather there?"

"Hot."

"And our little Eva? Is she hot, too? What's your take on the long-legged redhead now that you've gotten a closer look? You talk to her yet?"

"We've talked."

"And is she everything you expected?"

"Women are never what you expect. You know that. This one isn't even close." Sly watched as Parish's yacht, the
Ventura
,
docked a short distance away. Scanning the upper deck he saw Eva and Melita Parish standing along the railing.

He said, "Bring me that file as soon as you can."

"Anything else? Maybe some perfume for Eva, or some lingerie to impress her into thinking you're a generous guy?"

"She doesn't wear either."

"No shit?"

"No shit. See what you can find out about
Merrick
. Where he goes after work. Who he sees. What he does on his days off."

"What's that all about?"

"Pull his file, too."

"You want me to spy on
Merrick
. He's a damn legend at Onyxx, and you want me to—"

"Don't get caught. Gotta go."

After Sly hung up, he left the
Hector
to follow Eva. She wouldn't be hard to spot in a crowd. She was dressed in a white, off-the-shoulder blouse and a colorful skirt in shades of green, red and gold. Her hair was twisted and clipped off her neck, and as she walked the night breeze played with the hem of her skirt.

He studied her legs, recalled how satin smooth and shapely they were. He'd held her for over an hour in the cave while the pills worked on her migraine. After she'd been lucid enough to sit up on her own power, he'd insisted they stay another hour to make sure she was strong enough to make the trip through the sump. He'd worried about her the entire way out, holding on to her like before, he'd shared his air. Only this time, it had been different. His anger had cooled, allowing him to notice things, feel things. Things he was now having a hard time forgetting.

Dressed in jeans and a blue shirt, he left the yacht and began weaving his way through the islanders and tourists who had come to party in the streets after dark. Keeping his distance, he dissected the guard that trailed Eva and Melita. He was all business, staying close. He carried a gun inside his shirt at the small of his back, and a knife on his hip.

Neither would do him any good when the time came—Sly was determined to talk to Eva before the evening was over one way or another.

At Eva's suggestion Melita had jumped at the chance to spend the evening at a local taverna. It was no secret Simon's sister loved to dance.

It wasn't unusual to enjoy the weather and
Greece
's famous cuisine at the same time in an open-courtyard setting. But that wasn't the reason Eva had suggested Popeo's Taverna. It had been two days since she'd seen Sly McEwen, and she had no idea if he was still on the island.

If he'd left, her chance of getting the file before Simon's party was poor, and without the file, her hands were tied.

She glanced around, wanting desperately to catch a glimpse of him somewhere in the open. The taverna was busy, but not so busy that he wouldn't be able to spot her, and likewise, she, him.

She had dressed to be noticed, hoping that would draw him in. She would settle for just the sight of him, she decided—no words—just a glimpse to assure her he was still in the game.

She had mixed feelings about this man
Merrick
had sent her. She was wary of him, she would be stupid not to be. But in the cave he'd surprised her. She never would have believed a man who looked as he did could be gentle; not with what she'd read about him on Simon's computer. But she was wrong. The man was definitely not what he appeared to be, which warned her that he was even more dangerous than she'd first thought.

The idea that he might be watching her at that very minute sent a flutter into the pit of Eva's stomach. She had been with him half naked in the cave, and when she had awakened she had found herself cradled in his arms. She'd kept her eyes closed as she's listened to the rhythm of his heartbeat next to her ear. One of his big hands rested along her thigh, while the other had been drawing imaginary patterns along her cheek.

She'd lain so still, trying to keep her breathing even so he wouldn't know she was awake, but he had known. Finally he had said in his deep rusty voice, "You feelin' better? Headache gone?"

Eva followed Melita to an outside table. Popeo's was known for its grilled octopus and
souvlakia—
skewered meat and tomatoes served on pita bread. It was also famous for its music, and she knew before long Melita would be tapping her foot and swaying in time to the lively Mediterranean beat.

The table was sheltered from the seaside wind, yet visible enough to be seen if someone was looking for her.

"Ouzo?"
Nemo asked, smiling at Eva, then Melita. "Or something stronger?"

"Ne,"
Melita answered,
"ouzo
is fine."

The flavored aniseed drink was famous in
Greece
. Eva nodded. "Yes,
ouzo
is fine."

"I'll be right back," Nemo said.

Eva sent her eyes around the courtyard again and when she looked back Melita was watching her.

"Are you looking for someone?" she asked.

"Looking for someone? No."

"You seem anxious, and you look especially beautiful tonight." Melita reached out and touched a wisp of hair that had come loose from the clip. "You're not expecting someone, are you?"

Eva forced a laugh. "And who would I be expecting? Simon is away, and I know no one in
Mykonos
except for you and Nemo."

"I suppose you're right." Simon's sister sat back in her chair. She had the darkest eyes and hair of anyone Eva knew. Her hair was almost blue it was so black and her eyes so intense that there was no separation between color and pupil. Her skin was an almond brown, a gift given freely by the Mediterranean sun and her Greek heritage, Eva thought.

They were so very different and yet Eva felt a kinship with the young woman. They were close to the same age—Melita a little younger, she suspected. But that's not what seemed to bind them. It was their situation. They were both prisoners of circumstance. Though Melita never spoke of it, Eva knew she was not living at Lesvago of her own free will. It was true she wasn't guarded as closely as Eva was, but she was a prisoner nonetheless. Nemo watched her like a hawk.

Melita asked, "Where were you a few days ago when Ennis and Gino couldn't find you? I don't think I ever heard your side of the story."

"I went exploring the caves near the monastery."

"Yes, that's what they said. They also said your skiff went adrift, and yet the anchor was still attached to the rope. That's not possible."

"I agree. Do you believe that a big fish capsized my boat?" Eva asked. "That's the story Ennis is telling."

"Gino swears it is true. It would have to be a very big fish."

Eva played along, knowing it had been Sly who had upended the boat when he'd gone to get her pills. He'd offered the information to her while she'd been regaining her strength in the cave.

She said, "I saw no fish big enough to capsize the skiff."

"Then they were likely drinking again. I'll tell Simon."

"Don't, Melita. Please," Eva begged. "I would hate to see them punished for something so silly. No harm was done."

"All right, I won't tell Simon, but I'm going to ask Nemo to warn them about their drinking, and next time you go exploring, I'll go with you. The caves are too dangerous to go alone."

Melita had no idea how dangerous, Eva thought, envisioning Sly McEwen in her mind.

"Eva? Did you hear?"

She blinked. "Yes. I heard. I didn't spend all my time underwater. I also spent time on the beach." She glanced at one of her exposed shoulders. "I think the tan lines are almost gone."

"Tan lines?"

"Before Simon left he told me to make sure that there were no tan lines visible by the time he got back. I'm trying to make sure that, as Simon put it, everything is brown."

Her confession had Melita swearing softly, before her eyes drifted to the harbor. "That's why you've been in the sun so much the past two days."

"Yes."

Quietly, Melita said, "I'm sorry. I know it isn't easy for you. And though we've never discussed it—" her head turned back to level Eva a direct look "—I sympathize with you. Life with Simon must be a nightmare." She leaned forward and lowered her voice. "I tried to find out where the party was going to be held, but Simon wouldn't tell me. Nemo says there was some mention of it being held on
Milos
or Santorini. Simon referred to it as the island of paradise."

The island of paradise…
Eva could only imagine what that could mean to a man like Simon. How it could feed his colorful imagination.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Nemo appeared with the
ouzo.
Minutes later they placed their order with a waiter, Eva settling for a delicate fish soup, and Melita ordering a feather-light phyllo pastry of feta cheese and stuffed spinach.

Nemo sat at a table a short distance away watching over them, his knee bouncing to the lively music coming from inside the taverna. When the sun set, the courtyard lights came on, filling the intimate space with amber lights.