Make Her Pay (14 page)

“I wouldn’t want you to get your hopes raised, only to be dashed. The chances of anything surviving all those years is very small, don’t you agree?” What had she been told by her own expert? “Paper doesn’t survive that long.” Unless it’s buried in a cold, stone cave. “But I must admit, I’m absolutely captivated by your story.”

She hadn’t spent nineteen years married to the shrewdest man in America and not learned anything. Keep your enemies close.
Very close
. And then destroy them without leaving a shred of evidence.

“Why don’t you stay here with me for a while so we can search together?” Solange suggested. “As you said, there is no hotel in Corvo, so you are at the mercy…” She smiled benevolently. “Or the
kindness
of strangers.”

Her eyes glistened with gratitude. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Bettencourt.”

“Please, call me Solange.”

“And I’m Brianna.”

Solange reached out a hand. “I’ve no doubt we’ll become good friends.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“IKNOW EXACTLY what happened.” Lizzie was wrapped in a wool blanket she’d found in the cuddy cabin, curled into the passenger seat as they trolled the empty waters seeking clues for the missing
Gold Digger
. “We did this the first week on the dive.”

“Hid from poachers?” Con asked as he dialed the number he had for the bridge again. “I thought of that. But someone should be answering the radio, even if they moved to escape detection.”

“Flynn made us go completely dark that time. The Captain took us about ten miles farther west, and we turned off the engines and lights. Paxton is totally paranoid about being caught.”

Con considered calling the Coast Guard, but Judd Paxton would not be pleased with that decision, so he settled for a text to Lucy to see if the Bullet Catchers had been apprised of the move. If they had, though, someone would have alerted him.

In the meantime, they had two choices: wait where the boat had been, or search for it in the vast blackness of the Atlantic Ocean.

“My guess is they’ll be back in the morning,” she said, tucking deeper into the blanket with a shiver.

“You should go below,” he said. “You’re going to freeze up here. I’ll watch for them.”

“Me?” She fluttered the blanket corner. “
You’re
the one with no shirt.”

“I’m fine.”

“
I’ll
say.”

Oh, boy. This might be worse than he thought. He gave her a half smile, but kept his gaze on the black horizon. “I think you’ve caught a case of hero worship.” And a serious misinterpretation of the events.

“Get real, Xenakis.” She smiled slyly. “The bare chest doesn’t suck, though.”

His half smile grew whole. “No? You wouldn’t give me the time of day, and now…” Now that she thought he was an undercover agent, she was suddenly a big fan.

“I took two showers with you. That’s the time of day in
my
book.”

“Life saving, both times.”

She shifted and wrapped the blanket tighter as he dropped back on to the captain’s chair with a frustrated sigh. “No one is out here, Lizzie.”

“Ten miles west, believe me. Try it, you’ll find the
Gold Digger
.”

“All right.” He kicked up the engines a little, watching the GPS. “We’ve got nothing to lose.”

He leaned back, one hand on the throttle, not minding the chill of the wind on his skin. But after about a mile, Lizzie stood up.

“Going down to get warm?” he asked.

“Nope.” She slipped behind him, opening her blanket like a cape to wrap it around him, snuggling them together.

The welcome heat was almost a shock.

“You have to be cold,” she said.

“I’ve been colder, but thanks.”

She leaned her head closer to his, her cheek silky as it brushed his face. “I know. I was there last time you had hypothermia, remember?”

“One of the best recoveries for hypo I ever had.”

She laughed softly, the sound transmitting from her chest to his back from the direct, close contact.

“How many times have you had it?”

“In BUD/S training? A few.”

“Is that SEAL training? I’ve heard about it. Was it as hard as they say?”

“No.” He laughed. “Way worse.”

“What made you decide to be a SEAL? And why did you quit?”

“Those two questions are so far apart, they don’t belong in the same conversation.”

“Really?” She inched around to see his face. “Tell me.”

The chill was gone completely now, replaced by her body warmth and by the slow simmer of arousal that tightened his jeans every time the boat bounced and her breasts moved against his back.

“Start with the first question,” he said. He’d end with it, too. “It was the Navy or…” Prison. “A tough life.”

“You said you grew up in Florida, right?”

“Tarpon Springs, home of the Greek Americans.”

She laughed. “Are you from one of those crazy Greek families like in the wedding movie?”

“No.” He maybe said it too harshly, because she eased around even more to look at his face.

“What was your family like?”

He shrugged. “Define family.”

“The people who raised you?”

“Friends, not family.”

“What do you mean?”

“My parents never married,” he explained, keeping the unusual tale to a minimum of detail. “My father was in the military and was killed on a black ops-type mission when I was a baby. He’d been some kind of bad-boy rebellion for my mother, I guess, since she was from an old mainline Philadelphia family.”

“So what happened?”

“She was really young, barely twenty, and probably really scared. Her family had basically disowned her for having a baby without a husband, and she was pretty lost in Tarpon Springs. No job, a baby, no family. I give her credit for lasting as long as she did.”

“What did she do?”

“Her parents eventually came down to get her, but they didn’t want the whole package.”

She sucked in a breath. “They didn’t want you?”

“You’d have to understand what kind of people they were.”

“Scum of the earth?”

His laugh was dry. “Proper. Very proper. They suggested adoption but she didn’t want to completely lose touch with me, and eventually some friends of my father stepped in and offered to take me. They didn’t actually adopt me, but they raised me. Her parents sent money.” At her incredulous look, he added, “It wasn’t as bad as it sounds.”

“What happened to your mother?”

“She’s fine. She’s had a good life,” he said quietly. “She met a guy and got married, and that time, she got it right. He was perfect for her-big money, big family.”

“Are you in touch with her?”

“Not much. She has other kids, all grown.”

“So what was that family like who took you in?”

“The Demakos family? Very poor. The father lived off the water, paycheck to paycheck. He needed every dime that my mother’s father sent.”

“Other kids?”

“One. Alix. He was…” God, how did he describe Alix? “Crazy, impulsive, and… really great to grow up with.”

“That sounds an awful lot like my sister,” she said, giving him a squeeze. “Are you older, younger? Close?”

“He’s dead.”

“Oh.” She came all the way around him then, getting between him and the console, blocking the western view with her pretty face and sympathetic eyes and toomany personal questions. “What happened to him?”

And this would be the answer to her second question-why he left the SEALs. “He was killed in a training mission.”

“Was he a SEAL, too?”

His jaw clenched and he leaned back, focusing on those amber gold eyes. “Yes. We went through training together.”

“So you were there when he died?”

If he had been, Alix wouldn’t have died. “Not exactly. You know, you are blocking my view. Would you mind moving?”

“One more question.”

He put his hands on her shoulders and moved her to the side. “No more questions. I want to find our boat.” He pulled the throttle back, looking from side to side, now that they’d traveled about ten more miles. Nothing.

“One more. How’d you learn to steal things like you do?”

For a moment, he considered telling her the truth.

Alix taught me how to take everything that wasn’t nailed down, and I got really good at it. So good that I was one of the best thieves in the country. You name it, I’ve stolen it. Right out of your precious museums
.

That’d burst her hero-worship bubble in a hurry. And cool the look of lust in her eyes, and shut that sweet little mouth he imagined kissing every time she got close.

“It’s just a talent I have,” he finally said.

She wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, moving between his thighs, her chest just below his chin as he sat and she stood. “It’s a talent that’s come in handy this week.”

“Lots of my talents have come in handy this week.” He tightened his thighs around her hips to punctuate that. “And if you don’t back off and stop looking at me like that, you’re about to find out about a few more.”

Her lips lifted in a slow smile. “Threat or promise, X?”

He was already going to be number one on her shit list when she figured out that he not only wasn’t her superagent here to save the day, but he was working for her sworn enemy. Could he make her hate him even more by taking what she was offering?

Probably. If he let his body do the thinking.

“You’re playing with fire, Lizzie.”

“Is that why I’m feeling so hot right now?”

She didn’t want to be warned. Didn’t want to be told no. Didn’t want to know the truth. “You could get burned.”

“So could you. Singed.” She hissed the last word and added the tiniest rock of her hips toward his.

He was already hard, already pulsing. “I’m asbestos, sweetheart. And you…” He snaked his hand through the blanket to her body, fingering the zipper of her hooded jacket. He dragged it slowly south, his knuckles grazing the rise of her chest on the way down. “…are not.”

“I can handle the heat,” she said, arching her back to let the blanket fall to the deck with a soft whoosh. “Like I can handle the cold.”

He clicked the zipper at the bottom, then flattened his hand on her stomach, sliding it up over her buttondown shirt. Her gaze widened as he spread his palm over her breast, the nipple budding from his touch and the chilly wind.

“Let’s just be clear, Lizzie Dare.” He popped the first button with ease. “I’m not what or who you think I am.”

She lifted one brow in an almost imperceptible nod of permission. “You don’t scare me, Con Xenakis.”

“I’m not trying to scare you.” Next button, open. “I’m undressing you.”

She smiled. “You think you’re some badass who’s going to break my heart or my spirit.”

“Never your spirit.” Third button, done. Too easy for a thief like him. “It’s unbreakable.”

She liked that, leaning closer, offering access to that last little button. “You forget I already pegged you as one of the good guys.”

He barely blew out a breath, his gaze leveled on the sweet rise of her breasts, the pale flesh pressing against a silky, lacy bra. Blood throbbed in his cock, his throat dry, his fingers itching for the touch he knew he was going to take. All he was about to take.

“Honey, you pegged me wrong.” His voice was gruff, raspy, honest.

He pulled her closer, smashing her body into his and standing slowly, his erection prodding her stomach, their gazes locked on each other’s mouth.

“I don’t think so.” Her eyes were dark with arousal, hooded with surrender. “I know exactly who you are.”

Then she was a fool.

He pushed her back on the console, pressing his hard-on against her crotch as he spread the blouse open completely.

He lowered his face to her breasts, opening his mouth over one and closing his hand over the other. He sucked, caressed, licked. Under him, her body pulsed in an instinctive rhythm, soft sounds cooing from her lips each time her hips hit his, the sound drawing him to her mouth and throat and lower to close his lips over her breasts.

She pulled him right into her, wrapping her legs around him and rolling up and down his erection.

He finally broke the kiss, pulling her to her feet before he stripped her bra off right there.

“Just know that you were warned,” he said, twisting the key to turn the engines off. “Go below. I’m going to anchor the boat here.”

She searched his face, unsure. “You’re not going to change your mind, are you?”

He could. He should. This was his chance to be the man she thought he was, a chance to demonstrate the code of honor that turned her on so much. A chance to do the right goddamned thing, instead of the easy, irresponsible,
wrong
goddamned thing.

Would he take it?

“Not a chance.”

Lizzie stripped to her bra and underpants, quaking with arousal as she rolled onto the lumpy triangular cushion shoved into the bow of the cuddy. The space was no more than a four-foot-wide envelope, barely big enough for both of them next to each other or on top of each other.

Which they were about to be.

She heard him winching the anchor in place, moving from bow to stern and back, then thudding down the three steps to the darkened cabin. She tucked into the blanket she’d brought down, wet and warm and ready for him.

He barely fit in the tiny space, depositing the backpack on the floor, his hot gaze searing her as he stripped off his jeans. She watched, mesmerized as his shaft released, stiff and dark, glistening at the top.

She wanted him to talk, to say something sweet or funny.

But he didn’t say a word as he crawled toward her.

And maybe that was better. She’d had enough of his cautions. She knew what she was doing-having sex with a man she found staggeringly attractive on every level.

Could she get hurt? Hell, yeah. A rogue wave could come up from nowhere and flip this boat, too.

Still silent, he reached down to his bag and dug in the front pocket, pulling out a foil-wrapped condom.

She couldn’t help smiling. “And you think you’re so bad.”

His gaze grew knifelike, slicing her with purpose. He started to pull down the blanket, exposing her breasts, running a finger over the lace of her bra, leaving a fiery trail in its wake. “I’m not thinking. I’m feeling.”

“Mmmm.” She bowed her back, inviting more. “Feels good.”

He took the blanket all the way down, his gaze following. As it reached her hips she wrapped her hand around his neck, pulling him closer, aching for his mouth on hers.

But he resisted. He ran a slow finger over the peak of her breast, slipping into the front snap and opening it easily, letting the silk slide away.

His jaw slackened as he admired her, thumbing one nipple gently, the touch burning and making her hips rise and fall instinctively.

“You’re beautiful,” he said softly, sending a thousand goose bumps over her.

She dragged her hand from his neck to his chest, fondling him the same way, tweaking his hardened nipple. “So are you.”

His response was a rueful smile, then he leaned in and kissed her. Lifting himself again, he shifted his attention back to her body. When his gaze lingered over her hips, she ran her finger over the lace of the pink panties, inviting him to do the same.