In a Fix (27 page)

I raised my head so I could see his eyes. They were almost black in the dim light, low-lidded, his lashes shadowing his cheeks. He leaned his head toward me. My heart sped up, skipping randomly as I pressed closer to him, my lips parting in anticipation.

He pulled back. “Forget it. I’m not going to be a stand-in for Mark.”

Stung, I said, “It’s not like that.”

“It’s exactly like that, and I won’t take advantage of the situation. Regardless of how it may at times appear, I am not an asshole when it comes to women either. Now, for God’s sake, let me sleep.” He rolled away from me.

I stared at his back for a full minute, stunned by the rebuff. Finally, I turned away from him and buried my head under the pillow, confused. My adolescence had been fraught with dire warnings from my brothers that men were only after one thing, and I’d better be prepared to defend my virtue at all costs.

Ha. Defend my virtue? If I were an egg inside a chicken,
maybe
I could get laid. But I wouldn’t put money on it.

*   *   *

Much later, when I was still awake and Billy was sleeping like the dead, I heard Laura bustling in the galley. I knew it was Laura because if it had been Mark, I never would’ve heard him. The man moves in a bubble of silence.

I’d had time to do a lot of thinking, and figured maybe I owed her an apology for ditching her and a thank-you for the soup. Like I said, I can be big. I rearranged my toga and crawled toward the main cabin. A warm hand around my ankle yanked me back.

“It’s okay, Billy. A replacement guard has been sent down. Go back to sleep.” The sounds from the galley confirmed my statement.

“Fine. Go. Wake me when breakfast is ready,” he said, sleep muddying his voice. He was out again in a split second. I left him, and closed the curtain behind me.

Laura, looking bright and chipper, was pouring the coffee. She smiled at me—a genuine smile, not at all wary. I wanted to still hate her, but I couldn’t.

“I’d give you my last penny for a cup of that,” I said, smiling in return.

She laughed, a low, musical sound as beautiful as her face, and handed me a mug. “No need for that. It comes free with the pancakes.”

“Pancakes? You’re making pancakes?” Hope returned to my world, floating on the rich aroma of dark-roasted Arabica beans and the giddy expectancy of maple syrup.

“Mark said you might like that.”

“Mark would be right. Where is he?” I asked, casually looking back toward the quarter berths, wondering if they’d slipped in earlier without me hearing, and had slept there together, all snug and cozy in one of the small beds.

“He’s been out doing recon since we got here. He should be back soon.”

That was a relief. Maybe it was mean of me, but I was glad nobody else had gotten any last night either. Yeah, I can be petty as well as big.

“So, where are we?”

She shrugged. “Some little fishing village south of Visby. Mark can tell you more when he gets back.”

I sat at the table, not offering to help. I wasn’t about to display my kitchenly incompetence in front of her.

“Listen, Laura … I shouldn’t have taken off on you like that. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. No harm done.” She laid a griddle across two burners on the small stove and started it heating, then gathered the ingredients—she was going to make them from scratch, of course—and got out a mixing bowl.

“No, really. It was a dumb thing to do,” I said. “And thanks for the soup. It was delicious.”

She paused in her preparations and looked at me like she was debating whether to say something. Mark had probably told her all about my infantile crush on him, and this was where she would sensitively explain their undying passion for each other. My stomach tied itself into a great big knot while I waited for the anvil to drop.

“Ciel, Mark’s not always an easy guy.”

I snorted. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“What I mean is, try not to be upset with him. It’s just how he is. He’ll steamroll right over you, trying to make you live according to what
he
thinks is best for you.” She pointed her wooden mixing spoon at me, giving it a shake for emphasis. “Don’t let him.”

I sat back, a little shocked. Guess we weren’t going to talk romance. I was enormously relieved. “You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

“I am. On our first assignment together, I was fresh off the Farm—you know what the Farm is?”

“Yeah, Mark told me about it. It’s where baby spooks are born.”

“Something like that,” she said, stirring the pancake mixture. “I was a total newbie, and a girl to boot. Mark didn’t think I had any business working a dangerous mission—and he considers just about any mission that isn’t behind a desk dangerous. He did everything possible to get me kicked off the job and into an office somewhere. He was so overbearing, I almost quit. Luckily, I have a stubborn streak a mile wide…”

I felt a bond start to form as I listened to her misadventures with Mark. Damn. This, and she makes pancakes, too. Forget Mark. I was falling for Laura.

*   *   *

I didn’t wake Billy up until after my second plate of pancakes. Why take a chance on running short of batter? Besides, I was having too much fun talking with Laura. She’d been totally indignant on my behalf when I related how Mark had made me throw up with his horror stories about tough assignments. Even though she knew he only did it because he worried about me, she said he’d had no right to bully me away from a possible career choice.

It was great to finally have someone see it from my point of view—I was eating it up along with my breakfast. Of course, I couldn’t tell her what I really did for a living now, so I gave her the life coach story. She was impressed that I was running my own business, and I basked in the glow of her approval.

When I finally called Billy, he emerged from behind the curtain wide-awake and totally refreshed. He slipped in next to me at the table as he joked with Laura about not letting me near the galley, and complimented her charmingly on her culinary skill.

While she was making more coffee he laid a warm hand on my thigh, caught my eye, and mouthed,
Are we all right?
I nodded. I couldn’t stand feeling awkward with him, so I decided I just wouldn’t. He seemed to be in accord.

Once Billy was served, and a fresh stack of steaming delectability was left under an overturned bowl to keep warm for Mark, Laura excused herself to go check something on deck. She said she’d send Mark down when he returned. I wasn’t precisely anxious to see him again, but it was easier to contemplate after having talked with Laura. It was heartening to know I wasn’t the only one he had ever treated like an incompetent child. If she could overcome it, I could, too.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Billy turned to me with the devil in his eye. “So, you sure you’re not mad I didn’t boink you last night?”

You’d think I’d know not to expect him to remain circumspect while we were alone. He never—well, rarely—embarrassed me in front of other people, but it was his favorite pastime whenever it was just the two of us. I blushed, just the reaction he was going for, I was sure.

“No, I’m not mad. I’m fine,” I said, letting my irritation at his reminder seep into the words.

He dug into his stack of pancakes. “Because,” he said between mouthfuls, “I’d be happy to oblige. Just as soon as you’re over your crush on Mark, and I can be sure it’s me in your head as well as your bed. I’m afraid my ego won’t have it any other way.”

I shot a quick look at the cabin door; luckily, no one was there to hear. “Do we have to discuss this now? I know I was being pathetic last night. You don’t have to rub it in.”

“Oh, but I do. Payback for my aching blue balls.”

“I get it. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” I tried to scoot away from him. He put his fork down and stopped me with a hand on the back of my neck.

“Yes, it will,” he said softly. “I’ll see to it.”

He gave me the kiss I’d wanted a few hours earlier. It was long and slow, and maple-syrup sweet. After the first stupefying seconds, I melted into the experience as fervently as I had attacked Laura’s breakfast. Seemed his tongue was every bit as clever, and even more teasing, when he wasn’t using it to talk. I was quivering by the time he was done, my heart racing like I’d just run a fifty-yard dash. I might not have balls, but something inside me sure was aching.

He nibbled his way along the side of my jaw until he got to my ear, and whispered, “Try thinking about me for a while.”

“Sorry to interrupt y’all…” Laura’s softly amused southern accent penetrated the haze surrounding my brain. I just about choked, and scooted away from Billy as fast as I could. “… but I just saw Mark. He’ll be here any second.”

Chapter 25

Laura lifted a questioning eyebrow, but didn’t say anything else. She just shrugged and left, chuckling. Billy went back to eating his breakfast, cool as you please, while I sat there like a dummy, breathing hard and madly trying to think of something intelligent to say. I had zip.

This was getting too damned confusing for me. I wanted my life to be simple again. I wanted to go back to the Bahamas, be Mina and snag Trey for her. The Trey who owned an import business, not the one who was a CIA operative.

I wanted to have easy, uncomplicated-by-any-emotion-except-pure-lust sex, contractually sanctioned by my job, without being bombed by God. Was that so much to ask? And once my itch was scratched, I wanted to go back to being me and forget about it all until my next job. I was sure I wouldn’t be reacting this way to Billy—Billy, for Pete’s sake!—or to Mark either if I only had an adequate sex life of my own.

Mark came into the cabin and greeted us with a brief wave, intent upon food. Just what I needed. I could
not
be in the same place as both of them at once, not before I got my feelings sorted out. But I froze.

Mark got a plate from the galley and joined us at the table, sitting on the other side of me. It was too late to move. I was sandwiched between the Rock and the Hard Place.

I felt a little dizzy.

Mark served himself a hefty stack of the golden flapjacks, accidentally grazing my arm with the back of his hand as he reached for them. Goose bumps pebbled my skin; I adapted them away, but not before Billy saw. He reached for the coffeepot, brushing the fine, dark hairs of his forearm against my bare shoulder. More goose bumps, too fast for me to get rid of before Mark noticed them.

“Chilly, Howdy? I suppose we should find you some clothes,” he said.

“Might be a good plan,” I said, studiously not looking at Billy, who was choking back a laugh behind his napkin.

Mark glanced at Billy, but drilled his eyes into me. “What are you up to?”

“Me?” I squeaked. “I’m not up to anything!”

Billy took pity on me and changed the subject, asking Mark what he’d found while he was out. Mark cut me one last sideways glance, then turned his attention to Billy.

“They’re gathering at the ship-grave site.”

“What’s that?” I asked, eager to keep the conversation on something that wasn’t me.

“The place old sailboats go to die,” Billy said, all seriousness except for his eyes. I continued to ignore him, and turned to Mark for the real answer.

“Some Viking burial sites are made up of standing stones in the shape of a boat’s hull. Think small-scale Stonehenge for ancient Norse sailors. There are hundreds of them on Gotland, and one group of them in particular, near here, seems to be the focus of neo-Viking attention. They had to leave Visby faster than planned after their little stunt with the trebuchet.”

“So they didn’t get to launch the flyers?” I was pleased to have inadvertently thrown a monkey wrench in Per’s plans.

“Nope. And, by the way, apparently there are fifty Vikings ready to swear you were a dummy.”

Billy opened his mouth, but I cut him off with a glare. “Don’t say it.”

He couldn’t suppress his grin, but he didn’t make the comment. Instead he said, “I don’t suppose Per is a happy camper right now. What do you think he’ll try next?”

Mark shrugged. “Not sure, but I’m afraid it has something to do with Trey. Swedish isn’t my best language, but from what I could tell they do have him.”

“Well, why are we just sitting here? Come on—we have to do something.” I tried to stand, but didn’t get far, what with the table in front of me and the human bookends blocking me. They each took one of my arms, and simultaneously pulled me back down.

“Calm down, Howdy. We’re going to get him.”

“I assume you are not including Ciel in that ‘we,’” Billy said.

“Of course not. She’ll stay on the boat.”

“She will not!” I said.

Mark glowered at me. “I thought we had this settled last night. If I recall, your exact words were ‘It won’t happen again.’”

I glanced at Billy, squirming as I thought of my more recent usage of that phrase, and what it had led to. He gazed back innocently. Clearing my throat, I turned my attention back to Mark.

“That was before I knew the Vikings had Trey.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m holding you to your word. You are capable of keeping your word, aren’t you?” His eyes hardened even more.

“Damn it, Mark. You’re not being fair. I can help—tell him, Billy.”

“She can help, Mark.”

“There, you see!”

Billy stepped on my words. “She can help by staying on the boat and watching for suspicious activity around here. Leave her a cell phone—she can contact us if she sees anything.”

I slugged his shoulder. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“That’s an excellent idea,” Mark said to Billy. “I’m sure Ciel will like it much better than my plan to leave her in the cockpit locker while we’re gone.
If
she can be trusted,” he added, with a pointed look at me.

Damn him. He knew about my claustrophobia. I didn’t like to think he’d really do something like that, but Billy was right about one thing—Mark could be ruthless, especially if he thought he would be keeping me out of more trouble in the long run. He also wasn’t known for making idle threats.