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Authors: Kay Hooper

BOOK: Aces High
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“I do remember that,” Skye offered, grinning.

Dane eyed him. “Uh-huh. Do you also remember where I caught up with you a week later?”

“Palermo?”

“Nice try. Casablanca.”

It was Skye's turn to wince.

Dane nodded firmly. “Casablanca. I wouldn't have been surprised to find you listening to sad songs, but in fact you were sitting under a tree playing poker with two Bedouins and a very suspicious Turk.”

“Did you bring me home then?” Skye asked hopefully.

Dane refused to laugh. “You had just bet everything in your pockets—and lost. The Turk was, to put it mildly, upset to find your pockets empty. By the time I got him placated,
my
pockets were empty, and I had one hell of a time arranging transportation back to the States.”

Skye cleared his throat. “I didn't give you any more trouble, did I?”

“None to speak of.” He reflected, then decided to speak. “Of course, it would have been a more comfortable trip if you hadn't been hell-bent on getting away from me.”

Skye was smiling a little. “Sorry. I wasn't thinking too clearly at the time.”

Dane nodded. “I know. I knew then, even though you wouldn't talk about it. Just don't put me through that again, will you?”

“God, I hope not!” He laughed suddenly. “It wasn't amusing at the time, and I'll bet you felt like shooting me. I have to admit it sounds funny now, though. Maybe I'll let you tell Katrina about it one day.”

Smiling, Dane got to his feet. “When do Jenny and I meet her?”

“Give me a little time to get to know her again. We're both different after six years. We have a lot of catching up to do, and quite a few things to put behind us.”

“Does she know you're a twin?”

Skye nodded. “Since you weren't working with me in Germany, I told her.”

“I'd wish you luck,” Dane said a bit dryly, “but you already have more of that than any man I know. Now that you have another chance with Katrina, maybe you'll stop wasting your luck by stepping in front of stray bullets and angry bulls.”

When his brother had gone, Skye remained where he was for a while, thinking. Dane's final words stuck in his mind, and he realized ruefully that his brother hadn't been deceived six years earlier—or in the time since. It didn't really surprise him.

Ties of blood, ties of love. The bond with his brother would never be broken, and the bond with Katrina had resisted all his wild, bitter, painful attempts to break it.

Now if he could only reach her….

Chapter 3

Katrina was up early the next morning. It was her habit to wake before the sun, and the staff of the hotel's smallest restaurant always had coffee and fruit ready for her when she came down from her suite. Today, as usual, she sat in her accustomed booth near the huge windows on the east side of the building, drinking her coffee and watching the sunrise. She had finished her breakfast, and the remains had been taken away.

Two things she no longer took for granted: fresh fruit and sunrises.

“Good morning,” Skye said. “May I?”

A bit startled by his sudden appearance, she looked at him and nodded, murmuring a greeting while he slid into the booth across from her. Her restless night and the events of yesterday had left her wary and uncertain, and she didn't quite know how to react to him today.

But Skye, his eyes bright and apparently rested despite the early hour, seemed perfectly friendly. “You used to sleep late,” he observed in a light tone.

“Things change,” she offered lamely.

He didn't probe. “True. Do I have a companion for the day, or has Gigi chained you to your desk?”

He was giving her an out, she realized, and she knew that if she claimed she had too much work to do, he wouldn't press her. Katrina hesitated, then smiled. “One of the assistant managers will cover for me.”

He nodded, obviously pleased. “I'm glad.” Then briskly he asked, “Do you have any ideas as to where Adrian might decide to ambush the governor while he's here?”

A bit relieved at the businesslike topic, she considered the matter, returning his gaze thoughtfully as he sipped his coffee and waited. “Anywhere, if he isn't particular about killing innocent people.”

“But he is,” Skye reminded her. “Or, at least, he has been recently. He's pulled off two hits in the last few months, both against very specific targets. That ambassador in Naples, and the general in Tangier. In both cases only his intended victims were killed.”

She shook her head. “But in a crowded theme park? How could he hope to single out one target when he means to use explosives?”

Skye looked reflective. “The governor visits every year, doesn't he?”

“Yes.”

“Does he have any favorite rides or exhibits?”

Remembering suddenly, Katrina nodded. “Several. The Haunted Mansion, the pirate ship, the Circus section, and the big Ferris wheel. He never misses those.”

“Then we concentrate there.”

“But the problem is the same. There are always lots of people around. Does it have to be explosives?”

“That was the threat,” Skye said. “And Adrian never makes empty threats. It amuses him to watch his intended victims take every possible precaution before he gets them.”

She grimaced. “A complete villain.”

“He isn't a nice boy,” Skye agreed dryly, then immediately went on. “The sun's up, and we have a few hours before the park opens. Want to get started?”

Katrina nodded and slid from the booth, stretching absently in the natural and unconscious movement of one early in the morning. Then she saw Skye looking at her with suddenly darkened eyes as he rose, and she hastily began moving toward the door. “Where to first?” she asked, disturbed at the breathless sound of her own voice.

“The Haunted Mansion is closest,” he said steadily.

“Right.” Very conscious of him at her shoulder, of his size and the curiously fluid grace of his stride, she walked with him out of the restaurant.

Sometime during the dark predawn hours Katrina had faced the inescapable realization that she felt too much for the man now walking silently beside her. Unwilling to define those feelings, she nevertheless knew there was something primal about them, something far stronger than her memories of what had once existed between them. Before, she had been emotionally young and innocent in many ways, still more girl than woman, and with a girl's recklessness. The passion between them had been astonishingly powerful, the pleasure she found in his arms intense beyond anything she'd ever imagined, yet she knew, looking back, that her very youth and inexperience coupled with the brief time they'd had together had protected her heart.

She had loved, but Skye had been right in believing that how much she had loved could be questioned. Knowing the answer now, she faced it. She had loved him with a girl's unconscious, unaware selfishness, and the loss of him, though agonizing, had not been crippling. She had survived.

But now…These feelings frightened her. They were too powerful, too compelling. It was desire she felt, but much more than that, sharper, more primitive, essential. Her mind was in turmoil, wary and confused, yet her body and instincts responded to him on a level deeper than anything she had ever felt.

She was no longer a girl, and she knew without question that her woman's heart could not be touched only lightly. Lessons in survival had built a wall around her heart and soul, and if she loved again, that wall would fall into ruins. If she loved him again—if, in the end, he left her again—there would be no surviving that loss.

“Katrina?”

She looked up at him and felt the breath catch in her throat, vaguely aware that they had reached the Haunted Mansion. In spite of the space separating them as they stood there, she could feel the heat of his big body and the sheer physical power that was like a living force inside him. She slid her hands into the pockets of her jeans, and fought desperately to ignore the fierce pull of compulsive attraction.

“Sorry. My mind was—miles away. How do you want to go about this?” Her voice sounded normal to her.

He shook his head slightly, as if throwing off some thought, and said, “First, the way the governor would—as a park visitor going on a ride.”

“I'll start it up,” she said, moving away from him.

Skye remained where he was, watching her walk toward a side door of the big Victorian mansion. He had told himself he could handle this, that he could be with her companionably, but he was finding his control was in little better shape than his pride was where she was concerned. For the first time in years he wished he had Dane's control, but their differing personalities and talents made that a hollow wish.

Skye had little of his brother's patience, virtually none of his tranquility, and where Dane was cautious, Skye was all too often reckless to the point of madness.

It did no good at all for Skye to tell himself that it would take care and caution this time to build the necessary trust between him and Katrina. And it was useless to remind himself that if he moved too quickly he could lose her forever. That was what he was afraid of—losing her. And because of that fear all his instincts urged him to grab her and hold on tight. His own nature demanded swift action. It quite simply wasn't in him to play a waiting game for very long; he had too many instincts of the hunter.

Just as his first savage impulse had been to make her respond to him physically, his compulsion now was to see beneath her composure and find the primitive emotions he felt himself. He knew he could reach her through passion. He knew it because he had seen and felt her response to him. And no matter how reasonably his mind warned of the dangers of following that path, he was fighting a losing battle with himself.

He moved finally toward the main door of the mansion, remembering how she had looked in the restaurant as she had stretched lazily. Lord, she was beautiful! Her fiery hair was confined in a single braid hanging down her back; her slender body, clothed in snug jeans and a knit top, was sexier than any other woman's he'd ever seen. It was all he could do to make his voice and words casual when he was with her, and he knew himself too well to believe he could keep himself from touching her for much longer.

She came out of the side door and walked to join him at the main entrance, composed as always. “I've turned on the power,” she told him. “The switch is inside beside the first car. Just get in and throw the lever, and the entire system is activated.”

“Come with me,” he said.

Katrina backed up a step, then drew herself up rather stiffly. “I'd rather not,” she said. “This isn't a…a favorite ride of mine.”

He reached out and took her hand firmly, leading her through the doorway despite her slight resistance. “You can explain the system while we go through it,” he said reasonably. “The cars are designed for two anyway,” he added as they saw the line of silently waiting vehicles perched on the double track that wound through the house.

“Skye, I'd rather not,” she said steadily.

If he had paused a moment to think, he would have realized why she was reluctant, but her hesitation seemed to him to be a desire to avoid being close to him, and his impulsive temper was ignited. “Get in,” he ordered roughly.

She glanced up at his face just once, then silently got into the car and sat on the padded seat, her hands clasped together tensely in her lap. He joined her and reached out to throw the switch that set the car in motion.

The half-shell-shaped car jolted forward, banging through a set of swinging doors and plunging into darkness. Skye heard a gasp beside him, and realized then, in a stark instant, what he was doing to her.

Oh, God! She hated enclosed places!

Especially when they were dark.

Swearing at his own insensitivity, he slipped an arm around her in the small car and held her tightly to his side, feeling her stiffen even more as eerie howls and moans erupted from the darkness all around them. The car wasn't moving very fast, but Skye didn't know where the nearest exit was and doubted that Katrina did; it wouldn't diminish her fears at all if they left the car and tried feeling their way blindly to an exit.

So he could only hold her and curse himself.

The car wound jerkily through the huge house, moving from total darkness through a variety of weirdly lighted rooms while various creatures leaped out at them and keening sounds echoed off the walls. In some of the rooms dioramas with mechanical figures acted out bizarre scenes, while in others the projected images of ghostly inhabitants danced or ate serene meals.

Skye thought the ride would never end, and the moment their car bumped against the others waiting patiently in the lighted entrance hall he climbed out, pulling Katrina with him—and straight into his arms.

“I'm sorry,” he said thickly, holding her tense, shaking body hard against his own. “God, I'm so sorry.”

“It's all right.” She tried to push herself back away from him, but he wouldn't release her.

“No, it isn't all right, dammit! Trina, I just didn't stop to think. My bloody temper…I wanted you with me, and I—” He had a vivid memory from their days together six years ago of her terror of closets and tiny rooms, particularly dark ones. Now he realized that the months she had spent in prison had very probably made those fears even stronger.

She looked up at him, her amber eyes only beginning to lose the look of terror. “I should have gotten over it by now, but…It was the cell in Germany and they turned out the lights so early…I've finally gotten used to elevators—” She caught her breath, her mouth firming as she stopped the disjointed words and held the fear at bay. “I'm all right now,” she finished in a much steadier voice.

Skye didn't let her go, hating himself for what he'd put her through. What little control he had managed was now gone. His body was reacting to her closeness wildly, and only the ache in his jaw made him realize that his teeth were tightly clamped together. He forced out words that emerged hoarsely. “I'm a thoughtless bastard, sweetheart, but I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know.” She sounded uncertain suddenly, gazing up at him with dawning awareness.

The soft pressure of her breasts against his chest inflamed his senses, and he half closed his eyes in a pleasure that was pain. “Lord, you feel so good against me. Trina…”

Katrina couldn't move. The urgency of his voice and words sent a flare of heat through her body until it settled deep in her belly to torment her. She felt her lower body move of its own volition, seeking, pressing against him, and a gasp tore from her throat when his body hardened instantly.

Skye made a rough sound and bent his head, his mouth finding hers in a kiss so deep and filled with need it was almost like a blow. Katrina would have collapsed if he hadn't been holding her so tightly, all her senses spinning in a dizzying rush. He was starving, she was starving, and the blood ran through her veins like fire.

She had forgotten this—or had it been like this before? She didn't know, couldn't remember. All she could do was feel. The stark power of his big, hard body made her shockingly frail, and the heat of him burned her.
What a life force he had.
Her body, moving against his hardening loins unconsciously, recognized only the raw virility it craved so helplessly.

But she tried to think, tried to remember the price she could be called upon to pay for this heedless passion, and when his lips left hers finally, she managed a whispered protest. “No. No, Skye, it's too soon.”

“It was almost too damned late,” he said harshly against her throat, his mouth moving caressingly, his tongue touching the pulse hammering beneath her soft flesh. “Six years…” His fingers found the elastic band holding the end of her braid and plucked it away, causing her unruly hair to swiftly unwind itself as though it were alive.

Katrina couldn't remember sliding her arms around his waist, but her hands were somehow probing the rippling muscles of his back through his black T-shirt, and when he widened his legs and pressed harder against her she felt her fingers dig into him.

“I want you,” he said gutturally, lifting his head. His blazing eyes caught her dazed stare and his arms were like iron around her.

She shook her head, unable to look away. “I can't think. Please, Skye, don't push me! You said you wouldn't—”

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