Awaken to Danger (22 page)

cuts through the waves. Wind plastered her clothes to her lithe body he now knew intimately well.

And with that knowledge came a possessiveness he couldn't deny. He wouldn't be Neanderthal enough

to voice it, but he couldn't ignore the primal pump of rage that still charged through him every time he

thought about that teenage kid stalking Nikki. A kid who happened to be the son of Will Watkins, Gary

Owens's sponsor.

The fact was now public knowledge, thanks to Billy Wade's outpouring to the cops. The kid swore his

old man owed Owens gambling money. They must have fought that night and Nikki saw the accidental

death that resulted. The boy had confessed to the hang-up calls, using pay phones to keep from being

traced. He swore he'd been trying to get the nerve to tell Nikki his fears about his father, thus the

hang-ups. He adamantly denied having anything to do with slashed tires and a loose railing. And the

Rohypnol? That must have been from Owens.

Carson's fingers gripped the wheel tighter. This was all getting too weird for his peace of mind, but he'd

had no reason to guess the kid at Nikki's school was the son of someone in A.A.

Reis was looking into Will Watkins's alibi that night. The military retiree had started out the evening with

Vic and Carson, going to a meeting, but that had wrapped up by ten. What about after?

Will had some hefty demons on his back, battling drinking and a gambling addiction. Or had it really been

the son, a jealous kid lusting after his teacher and trying to throw off the investigators in desperation?

At least Reis had solid leads to follow and Carson figured he would keep Nikki occupied and in his

sights at all times. He just hoped what he had to tell her today wouldn't send her overboard.

Talking about his alcoholism never ranked high on his list of favorite pastimes, but he was getting better at

vocalizing the feelings and experiences. Discussing it helped others just starting on the road to recovery.

However telling Nikki and seeing the disillusionment in her eyes would be tough.

Autopilot activated, Carson stepped away from the wheel, untying lines to slow the boat and ready to

anchor. Would she notice he'd brought them to the cove by the small battlefield landmark where they'd

made love for the first time? The trees looked like any other, and the two lopsided cannons could have

been from a dozen other sites. But he knew otherwise.

Damn. He was turning into a romantic sap. He welcomed the exertion to work off excess tension and the

protective need to keep Nikki close. Safe.

Nikki caught his gaze with hers. "I'm okay," she said as if reading his thoughts. "Nothing happened to me

last night."

He was in over his head with this woman.

Carson sidestepped away from her to drop anchor. "When I think of what
could
have happened to you,

all those times you were alone with that kid..."

Restless, edgy, he tossed the anchor into the harbor with extra force.

"I was never alone with Billy Wade for just that reason." Nikki stowed lines, already having picked up on

his routine with a perception and ease that further closed his throat.

Her words did little to erase hellish scenarios of other horrific possibilities. He was definitely in over his

head.

Carson closed the gap between them and pulled her to his chest, not as gentle as he should have been

but his emotions were far from temperate. "I just want to keep you safe."

"There's nowhere totally safe. Ever. For now could you stop thinking?" She stepped from his arms,

holding his hand and backing toward the hatch that led to the cabin below. "Just feel."

He followed her step for step along the slick deck, grateful for the reprieve from discussion she

unwittingly offered. He was only too glad to put off the inevitable. "There's nothing I want more than to

feel every inch of you."

"Then by all means—" her hand releasing his, she shrugged out of her windbreaker and hooked her

fingers on the hem of her pullover and tugged upward, right there out in the open air and cold "—indulge

yourself to your heart's content"

Heart?

He suspected the word wasn't too far off the mark when it came to this woman. Her windbreaker and

sweater fell around her feet, leaving her in her jeans and mint-green silky T-shirt.

His hands shook as he hauled her back into his arms, only a few feet away from the solitude below deck

calling to him.

With an empty bed.

Tangled sheets.

And Nikki.

They would get naked very shortly, no question about it, but first he had to taste her, fully, without

interruptions from stalker teens or inquisitive investigators. Wind gathered speed over the stretch of

ocean, encircling their locked bodies until Nikki shivered in his arms. From cold or desire? Either way,

reason to take this party downstairs.

Slanting his mouth over hers, deeper, hotter, he hadn't been this nervous about having sex with a woman

since
he'd
been the virgin. Maybe that was the whole point. This wasn't just about having sex. He was

making love to her, and as tenuous as their relationship was, this could well be the only chance he would

have to pour everything into loving her.

"Thank you," she whispered against his lips.

"For what?"

"For bringing me here, to this place where we found each other for the first time. For knowing the gesture

would be sweet and special."

And suddenly coming here didn't seem so sappy after all if it made her happy. Three steps down into the

galley, then they stumbled backward toward the sleeping quarters. The bed stretched from side to side,

no room to walk around, the mattress the only real place to sit—or lie—together out of the biting wind.

Yes.

As if she'd heard his thoughts, she moaned her agreement into his mouth. Minimal light filtered through the

rectangular portals, slanting illumination over the brown linens in their cave-like haven.

Her frantic hands tore at his jacket, then yanked his long-sleeved polo shirt past his head, sending it

sailing to the floor at the same time he finally managed to peel up her neon T-shirt and, heaven help him,

her matching green bra.

Damn, he loved her bright colors and the way they echoed the brightness inside her.

The boat rocked under his feet with the gentle slap of each wave against the hull, but the soft swell of

Nikki's breasts above the lacy cups rocked him even more. A chilly gust of salty air blasted through the

hatch, beading tempting breasts against satin, luring him to touch more of her. All of her.

His mouth exploring her neck, he reached behind to close the door. Darker. Warmer.

Alone.

Lowering her, he extended an arm to brace on the edge of the mattress until they stretched side by side

along the brown comforter. Shoes thudded—
one, two, three, four
—onto the waterproof flooring. "Do

you want—?"

"Yes. Totally. Want you to stop talking."

"Roger." He could think of better ways to occupy his mouth, especially since she seemed so intent on

getting them both in the buff ASAP. He clicked on the miniature lamp mounted to the wall, intent on

recording every inch of her to memory.

On her back, she scrunched down her jeans with an enticing wriggle and kicked them free, revealing

matching mint panties and oh-so-long legs. His pulse spiked, couldn't possibly jump higher.

And then she proved him wrong.

Nikki skimmed her foot up over his ankle, rucking up his jeans to burrow her toes higher, rubbing back

and forth, skin to skin contact all the more intense as the stakes rose for them.

He released the front clasp on her bra, desire pounding harder, pulling tauter. He grazed hot kisses down

her neck, lower, so slow, tormenting until she splayed her fingers through his hair and guided him to...

Yes.

He blew warm air over the heart of her a second before he tasted her essence—hot and moist. And

apparently just what she wanted if her gasps and sweet whimpers were anything to gauge by, her legs

widening to give him more. All. Her release came hard and fast, her clawing grip on his shoulders sending

a bolt of pleasure throbbing through him. He held her thighs and soothed her through the aftershocks.

Confined in the cramped hull, she grappled with his jeans, unbuttoning the fly one strained pop at a time.

Her hand slid inside and...

Uh, what was he thinking about?

His mind blanked, thoughts washed away along with all his blood flooding south. Jeans flew off as fast as

what remained of his restraint. Fishing a condom from his wallet, he sheathed himself and rolled on top of

her soft scented body, lowering himself, seating deep inside her.

Her legs locked around his waist, urging him to move, move again, endlessly with an urgency echoed

inside him. The boat undulated with waves that left her clinging tight to him for anchor. The surprise

surges heightened the pleasure, deeper, harder, then shallow and faster.

Until her toned legs demanded he give all. He gritted his teeth through the blinding drive to finish. But not

before her...not before...

Her scream sliced through his restraint like the hull of a boat parting a wave, the wake crashing into a

churning tumult that lasted and lasted, finally fading. Shuddering in the aftermath, he sagged on top of her,

her sighs heating over his neck. Her hands glided along his sweaty shoulders in feather light touches that

slowed along with her breaths at the onset of her nap.

Shifting to his side, he pulled her closer, holding her while she slept. No more delaying. He would have to

tell her about his alcoholism, something that could, and very likely should, send her running.

Why hadn't he done this back when the prospect of losing her didn't rock him even more than facing

combat?

Resting on her side, Nikki watched Carson's perfectly sculpted face as he slept, not a peaceful nap, but

restless, mixed with the occasional twitch as if he might wake at any second. The tiny digital clock blared

three in the afternoon, plenty of time to let him relax a while longer. She stretched her arm from under the

fluffy weight of the comforter and clicked off the tiny light, casting the cave-like cabin and Carson's

features in shadows.

She'd sensed a tension in him while they made love, connecting in some way that scared her to her

toenails. She hadn't known the emotions would come so fast, so thick, swamping her in more—deeper—

feelings for Carson than she'd ever dreamed. She wasn't so naive that she couldn't recognize the

explosiveness of how he made her feel in bed.

Four orgasms in one afternoon was nothing to sneeze at, although he seemed to tease them from her as

easily as an
achoo
.

She'd thought their first time making love had been special, even their abruptly ended encounter months

ago. Now she knew none of it had come close to what had been waiting for them. .

Because they knew each other better? Or cared more? Could things grow stronger?

The caring part scared her. Really scared her. Because she didn't trust him not to break her heart again if

they got closer. Her cold toes warming between his legs, she allowed her hands the unobserved pleasure

of touching him, stroking along his muscled arms that had held her close, down his chest and lower still to

his six-pack, tanned even in winter.

She couldn't avoid hearing whatever he'd wanted to say much longer. She'd chased off admissions with

sex earlier. But whatever he was holding back, his reasons for leaving her that had nothing to do with

work, would all come out soon.

Along with his connection in knowing Billy Wade's father, a man with a gambling problem.

Nikki flipped to her other side, away for distance, her toes already chilling just seconds after leaving the

warmth of Carson's legs. Deja-vu jiggled the vision in front of her as she fell asleep, taking her back to

that strange night.

Strange room.

Strange bed...

How had she gotten here in this strange hotel-like place? And who was talking, their masculine

voices so low she could barely distinguish the two from each other as she sprawled on the

bedspread?

She couldn't remember anything after she'd climbed into Gary's car, sleepy. So sleepy. Her head

pounded. Her stomach roiled. A couple of drinks shouldn't have done this to her. What was wrong

with her?

Voices. In the hall or in the room? She struggled to focus, but her heart in her ears pounded

louder than the whispers. She peeled her eyes open. Gary and another man stood at the foot of the

bed. So close, she should be able to hear them but the world kept kaleidoscoping in and out.

She studied the back of the second man. He seemed familiar, even in jeans and a leather jacket,

his hair trimmed military short.

His blond hair.

Panic clenched a vise grip around her throat.

The man in jeans and an aviator jacket turned in slow motion. No! built in her chest, crawling up

her throat to stop him and what she didn't want to see but already foresaw. The denial lodged in