A Thousand Kisses Deep (11 page)

Their food arrived, and Eva's soup was delicious, as she had expected it to be. They ate in silence enjoying the balmy island breeze and the music. When their plates were nearly empty, Eva noticed Melita's eyes were wandering.

Suddenly she asked Eva, "Do you mind if I ask Nemo to dance with me?"

"No. Go ahead." Eva glanced at Nemo and saw he was staring at them. No, he was staring at Melita. It was then that she understood something that had eluded her over the past three years. Nemo watched over Melita like a hawk because he wanted to. There was something between them. Something they had successfully kept a secret from everyone.

"I'm going to freshen up and order an after-dinner brandy at the bar," Eva announced. "I'll meet you back here in a little while. Enjoy the music."

Eva lingered out of sight to watch Melita and Nemo as they joined the dancers, then she disappeared into the crowd. She visited the rest room, then steered herself in the direction of the bar and ordered a brandy. She was about to pay for the drink when a body wrapped around her and leaned in.

"I've got it."

Eva's heart skipped a beat. She didn't need to look to know who it was. His voice was deep and distinct, as powerful as the arm that stretched forward and slid the money to the bartender.

It was noisy, and the party atmosphere was perfect for two strangers to meet at the bar, Eva thought. She took a sip of her brandy to fortify her courage, then turned slightly and looked up into Sly McEwen's sober face.

He looked good. That's what immediately came to mind. It was a crazy thought. He'd shaved off the chin strap, but kept the sideburns. He wore faded jeans and a blue cotton shirt, a pair of sunglasses tucked into the pocket made him look like a tourist. A rich, bad-boy tourist.

"I was hoping you'd be close by." He leaned in a little closer, his thigh making direct contact with her hip. "Where's the guard?"

"Dancing with Melita. Is Sly your real name?"

"Will that be a problem?"

"No. I was just curious."

"It's short for Slayton. I'm told my father came straight from
Kilkenny
,
Ireland
."

It was awkward, standing there having what appeared to be a normal conversation with a man who was in the business of killing people. A man who wanted to kill her father. A stranger who had held her for over an hour while she slept off her migraine.

He glanced at her exposed shoulders, then lowered his gaze to her chest where her breasts rose and fell with each labored breath she took. "And you, Evka Amara Creon—is that a Slovakian name?"

"Yes, I suppose it is."

He knew her middle name. Knew about the migraines, and the pills. Knew she lived with Simon and how they spent their evenings in the backyard. What else did he know? Was there a profile on her somewhere like the one she'd found in Simon's computer on him?

"I've never done any research on the name, though I'm sure there would be something in my father's file at Onyxx," she prompted.

An anxious customer knocked into Eva at the bar, shoving her forward into Sly's chest. He reached out and pulled her more tightly against him, then gave the rude man a threatening look.

The man quickly apologized.
"
Me
sing-horite,
miss."

"Ne. Endaxi,"
she answered then looked back up at Sly. "He meant nothing by it." She followed his eyes and saw that he was staring at her hand flattened against his chest, her fingertips pressed to his warm skin and a smattering of hair in the open vee of his shirt.

She removed her hand and said, "There are balconies above the taverna. I'll meet you on the third level. It is more private than the others. Not many people go there."

She slipped out of his protective circle and started weaving her way through the crowd. She found the stairs, started up them as she scanned the dance floor. Nemo was wearing a bright-red shirt and she spied him easily as he twirled Melita in her full yellow dress. The timing was perfect, she decided. They were laughing and enjoying the music. Enjoying each other. They wouldn't miss her for a while.

To her disappointment two couples were already on the balcony when she arrived. They were both in passionate embraces, paying her no mind. Still, the situation made her feel awkward and she started back down the stairs, only to meet Sly on the way up.

"We can't be here," she told him.

He glanced over her head, assessed the couples and what had brought them to the private spot. Then he grasped hold of her hand and led her back up the stairs.

On the opposite side of the balcony was a small alcove. He took her there, and backed her into it.

Because she was at a loss for words, she raised her glass to her lips and sipped the brandy. As she was lowering the glass, he took it from her, finished it and set the empty glass on a ledge. He stepped into the alcove and backed her up, making it look like they had come to the balcony for the same reason as the other couples.

Eva opened her mouth to protest, but he spoke first. "Since you've had so much experience playing games, you should have no trouble putting your arms around my neck and pretending you can't wait for me to touch you."

She hesitated, and Sly wondered what she was thinking. Then she raised her arms and laced her hands around his neck. The action was stiff and unnatural. Wary.

"How's this?" she asked, looking up at him through her long wispy bangs.

"It'll do," he said, then slid his arm around her waist and brought her lower body against him. "How's the head?"

"All right. The migraines come and go. I might not have one now for a week if I'm lucky."

She avoided his eyes, stared at his chest.

"What's wrong? This doesn't bother you, does it? We've been this close before."

"It was dark in the maze."

"Then close your eyes."

She scowled at him.

"In the cave you slept in my lap."

"That was not my idea."

Sly decided not to examine what had happened, or hadn't happened in the cave. Or examine what had gone through his mind yesterday when he'd followed her to a private beach where she'd stripped off her bikini to lie naked in the sun.

"Where's the Chameleon?" he asked.

"The file first?"

He slid one hand over her hip and rested it there. Her skirt was lightweight and he could feel her through the fabric. Knew she could feel him, too.

She said a little breathlessly, "I thought you didn't like me."

"What makes you think I do?"

He saw her cheeks flush with color. Knew she wasn't going to answer him.

"Oh, that. Don't read too much into it," Sly lied.

"You're just doing your job, is that it? Like me, you know how to play the game."

"That's right."

"A painful job, by the feel of it."

He was in the middle of smiling down at her when he heard voices coming up the stone steps. He sobered, and said, "We're going to have to look a little more convincing in a few minutes. The game has moved to a new level. Kiss me."

He dipped his head and chased her lips as she wrenched back and tried to avoid his mouth. When she ran out of room, his lips slowly descended.

Her whispered protest left her mouth opened and Sly took full advantage, thrusting his tongue inside as he covered her mouth. She squirmed momentarily, then gave in to him with a little moan. He continued to kiss her as he gyrated his hips until the firestorm in his gut was an open blaze.

When he backed off, she opened her mouth to speak, but Sly laid a finger to her lips, then lowered his head and started kissing his way down her neck.

"Please…" she whispered, her hand now on his chest trying to push him away. "Please, stop."

Her voice sounded desperate. Sly slid both hands over her hips to palm her backside and bring her closer against him. "We're just pretending," he whispered, knowing he was full of shit.

For days he had been telling himself that she was the means to an end, just part of the job. But no woman had ever been able to get him this hard and bloodhound ready so damn quick.

She'd been burning a hole inside him since he'd heard her voice on the tape back in
Atlanta
. Seeing her pictures had only doubled his interest. In the maze she'd bewitched him, and yesterday watching her on the beach had sent him to bed with an ache so big he'd been up
all night. And now, tasting her lips had put the final nail in his coffin.

He wanted to hate her for Sully's sake. In fact, he'd managed it for about ten minutes after she'd confessed that she was
Merrick
's informant. But then the truth of her situation settled around the hate, and he couldn't deny that Eva was simply trying to survive in a world that someone else had created for her.

He knew about survival. Growing up with LeRoy had forced him to do all kinds of things he had known were wrong. Still he had done them anyway just to survive. And that's why he couldn't condemn her.

The voices on the stairs brought him out of his muse and he wedged his leg between her open thighs, then pulled her blouse lower off her shoulder. Angling his head, he kissed his way down to the exposed swell of one lovely breast.

"Come on, Eva," he coaxed, "pretend you like it. Pretend you like me."

She arched her back when Sly brushed his lips over the rise of her breast.

"That's it." He gathered up the soft fabric of her skirt and slid his hands underneath. When his palms cupped her satin-smooth ass, she shuddered violently.

"Please…" she breathed, trying to wiggle free.

He could have easily moved his fingers past the slight barrier of her panties, but he didn't.

He said, "Listen to the voices on the stairs. Sound familiar to you? Do you recognize them?"

For a moment she said nothing. Then, "Oh, God, it's Melita and Nemo."

The voices had become more discernable now, the couple had reached the balcony.

"Put your hands on me. Somewhere. Anywhere," he told her.

She did what he said, slid them down his chest and around his waist. She snuggled closer, lowered her head to his chest and brushed her lips over the skin in the open vee of his shirt.

"Where do you think Eva went, Nemo? She's not in the rest room or at the bar."

"She's probably back at the table by now. Don't worry, sweet. Come here. As long as we're alone…"

"Nemo, no. We're not alone."

"Just a quick kiss, Melita. It's been days. No one will see us up here. This is a place for lovers, and they are all too busy to notice us. Come on, Lita. Let me hold you."

Eva listened for Melita to say something in answer to Nemo's plea. She couldn't see them, but by the silence that hung heavy in the night air, she knew Nemo had won and Melita was now kissing him.

As the minutes lagged, she listened to Sly's heart beating strong against her ear, and the scent of him filling her senses. She was aware of his hands on her backside, holding her firmly against him in a way she had never been held by a man before. She reminded herself that they were pretending to be lovers, and it seemed Sly McEwen was as good at this as he was breaching iron gates and swimming like a shark.

Several more minutes ticked by, and then Nemo and Melita were talking again, their soft voices gentle with each other as they left the balcony.

The second it was safe, Eva wiggled out of Sly's arms and pushed his hands away from her. As her skirt drifted back into place, she said, "Don't ever touch me like that again."

He took a step back and relaxed his shoulder against the wall as if what they'd just been doing was all in a day's work and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket. Shaking one out, he curled his lips around it, returned the pack to his shirt, then lit up. "Did you know?" he asked around a puff of smoke.

"Did I know what?"