Pearl Cove (15 page)

Hannah looked at the tired bubbles that barely covered the top of her mud-colored beer,
but it wasnt the beer she was seeing. It was the past, when a young girl had taken one
look at Len McGarry and decided that he was her knight in shining armor, come to rescue
her from the green dragon of the rain forest. And no matter how much the voice in the
center of herself warned, Not this man, she simply ignored it.

Len was the first western man she had met in three years who wasnt a Catholic priest,
married, or old enough to be her grandfather. It was Lens wildness that drew her. It was
his laughter that convinced her. It was determination to escape the green hell that made
her endure the first uncomfortable bouts of sex. It was her own sexuality that finally
ignited, surprising Len even more than it surprised her.

She decided to make Len hers, and to hell with the consequences and the voice whispering
inside her, Not this man. Surely nothing could be worse than eating monkey parts stewed
over a sullen fire.

Very soon she discovered that there were worse things. One of them was confronting the
streets of Rio de Janeiro alone and broke, seeing her own future in the jaded, opaque eyes
of prostitutes. Then Len came back with cuts and bruises on his face and said, Fuck it,
why not get married? Its the one thing Ive never done.

She was so relieved she almost blacked out. When she could focus again, she was clinging
to him, watching him as though he was fire and she was freezing. She didnt notice the
other man with him until Len dragged her arms from around his neck and introduced her to
Archer Donovan.

The anger in the other mans eyes struck her like a blow. Archer didnt want her to marry
Len. She didnt know why, but she was sure of it. Just as she was sure that something about
Archer fascinated her. He watched her with such darkness, such savage intensity, silently
demanding... what?

She didnt know. Couldnt know. Wouldnt know.

So she turned her back on Archer and watched Len with eyes full of hope, certain that
everything would turn out all right now. Yet when she dreamed that night, it was Archers
face that haunted her, Archers silver-green eyes that followed her, Archers hands that
ignited the newly discovered fires in her body.

She hadnt understood her reaction then. She didnt understand it now. But it was real, as
real as the quickening of her heart and her body each time Archer touched her.

What are you thinking? he asked softly.

Hannah jolted, then sighed. The day Len came back for me in Rio.

He followed her glance toward the bar, where the two remaining prostitutes lit cigarettes
from the smoldering ends of other cigarettes. You wouldnt have ended up like that.

I was one night away from it, she said simply. Len and I were both looking for you. He
found you first.

Shocked indigo eyes focused on Archer. He never said anything about you looking for me.

No, he wouldnt have.

Is that why you were so angry with me when you first met me? Because youd spent the night
looking for me?

You were innocent, terrified, and completely alone. Len never should have abandoned you.
Thats why I was angry. It was as close as I ever came to giving Len the fight he thought
he wanted, no holds barred. All that kept me from beating him unconscious was that two of
us had a better chance of finding you than one.

In the dim light of the bar, Archers eyes were narrowed, feral. Dangerous. Hannah
swallowed uneasily. Ive often wondered why Len came back. At first I thought it was
because he loved me. But he didnt.

You touched everything that was good in him, Hannah. Thats all anyone can ask.

Pain drew her face into taut lines that the black wig made even more grim. It wasnt
enough. I wasnt what he needed. I only made him worse.

No.

Yes, she countered bluntly. After he was paralyzed he needed someone older, someone who
needed him less and could help him more.

Paralysis changed Lens body, not his soul. He wasnt an easy man when he could walk. He
wasnt an easy man when he went on wheels. You didnt make him what he was. You couldnt make
him different. Only Len could do that, and Len didnt want to.

If I hadnt made him marry me

You didnt make him marry you, Archer cut in. No one ever made Len do one damned thing he
didnt want to. He glanced down toward the dim, narrow hallway where the prostitute and her
trick had disappeared. Nothing moved in the shadows. Come on.

Relieved that they were leaving the depressing barroom, Hannah stood quickly. She made a
sound of dismay when Archer turned her away from the front door. Instead, he urged her
down the reeking hallway, opened the door to the mens bathroom, and looked around.

Empty.

Without a word he dragged Hannah past a stained urinal toward the single stall. What the
place lacked in size, it made up for in sheer quantity of dirt.

What if someone comes in here? Hannah asked, jumpy as only a woman can be in a mens public
toilet. What will he think?

When you change into this, he wont have to think. Hell be sure I hauled you in here for a
quickie.

While Archer talked, he rummaged in the duffel. Rapidly he pulled out a short black skirt,
black lace bikini panties, and a black-and-pink striped crop top so tight there wasnt room
for a bra beneath. A pair of black high-heeled sandals completed the outfit. What there
was of it. Without the jacket which Archer left in the duffel there wasnt much more
concealment in the clothing than in an Australian bikini.

What is that? Hannah asked, staring at the hot pink and black stripes.

Clothes. Yours, to be precise.

I dont think so.

Screaming pink isnt my color, he said blandly, dangling the stretchy top from his index
finger. Stripes dont do much for me, either.

I think youd look smashing in that. Every man needs a jockstrap that looks like an
embarrassed tiger. Its not a jockstrap. He held it out to her. Its a blouse.

No. And this is the skirt that goes with it. Not until you tell me why. Pink turns me on.
We didnt have it earlier and you did just fine. He smiled a remembering kind of smile.
Yeah, we did. Imagine what well do now. Hannah hesitated, then gave Archer a smile that
made him wish they were in bed. Im imagining.

She reached for the buttons on her blouse. Want to imagine with me?

Hell, yes. But I know better.

Reluctantly he turned his back and went to the pitted sink. If he watched her undress, he
would do something really stupid, like take her right here, right now, as though she was
bought and paid for with a twenty-dollar bill.

A turn of the tap told him this would be another coldwater shave. Grimacing, he pulled out
the disposable razor April Joy had only sent one and shaved off his mustache with swift,
painful strokes. He rinsed the sink carefully before he pulled out his own disguise and
looked it over.

The change of clothes began with simple and shockingly expensive black slacks and a white
silk shirt. A Krugerand on a heavy gold chain told him that he was expected to wear his
shirt in the European style, unbuttoned halfway to his belt. He wondered if April knew
that the chain would nip and gnaw at the hair on his chest.

The shoes answered his question. Though they took up most of the space in the duffel, they
were a size too small.

April must have laughed herself into a coma at the thought of his discomfort. She knew
everything about him, including his shoe size. She certainly knew him well enough to be
sure that he wasnt the type to flash a chunk of gold against his hairy chest. But once he
was dressed, he would be a fit partner for Hannahs outfit: money and barely bridled sex.

When he turned around, she was struggling to zip up the skirts back zipper. He stood where
he was and stared. Just stared. He had had her naked, had licked every bit of her, and
still he was rocked back by the sexy sway of her breasts beneath the tight top and the hot
curves of her long, long legs.

Why do they put zippers in skirts this tight? she muttered. Why not just spray the ruddy
thing on and be done with it?

Let me try it.

The husky timbre of Archers voice brought Hannahs head up. The blunt male appreciation in
his eyes made her feel sleek, sexy, and primitive as a cat in heat. I wish you didnt have
to shave your beard.

Why? he asked, walking around behind her. I liked the feel of it... everywhere. He gritted
his teeth and tried to think of all the reasons he couldnt do what he wanted to do. What
she

wanted him to do. The blood hammering through his body made it almost impossible to think.
Carefully he pulled up the zipper.

She cleared her throat. Thanks. My fingers kept slipping off the tab. Whats this stuff
made of? she asked, running her fingers up and down the skirt, from waist to midthigh hem.
It feels like silk, looks like silk, but doesnt wrinkle.

Archer looked away from the narrow, long fingers that were running up and down Hannahs
hips. I dont know what it is. Have you ever worn contacts?

Nope.

He held out a tiny box to her, explained the procedure, and demonstrated by opening a
similar box and putting his own contacts in. She looked critically at the result. His
gray-green-blue eyes were transformed into a muddy shade of blue.

I like the original better.

Ill keep it in mind, he said dryly. Give me the wig while you put in your contacts.

Trying not to think about the appalling condition of the sink, she leaned toward the dingy
mirror and went to work. She had one contact in and was blinking furiously when someone
hammered on the door.

Hey, mate, called a voice. I gotta piss.

Archer growled some words that made Hannah wince. She put in the other contact and looked
at herself. A pair of brown eyes looked back at her.

It was unnerving.

Put this on, he said, holding out the wig.

She looked from the neat French braid Archer had made in the wig to his blue eyes. You
keep surprising me.

Wait until you see what I can do with cosmetics. Youre joking. He reached into the duffel
and came up with a handful of makeup. Tell me that in a few minutes.

A few breathless minutes later Archer stood very close while he put makeup on her Hannah
looked at herself in the mirror again, made a startled sound, and leaned in closer over
the sink. Like the clothes, her makeup sent a message of expensive sex. Very expensive.
Very sexy. You werent joking.

Archer looked at the skirt flirting with revealing her tempting cheeks as she bent over
the sink. Before he knew he was going to do it, he slid one hand up between her thighs.
The skirt was like her, so tight that there was barely room for him inside.

She made a startled, husky sound as he eased aside the slim thong of her underwear and
stroked soft flesh until she shivered. Her eyes met his in the mirror while liquid silk
licked over his fingertips.

I dont have much wont power where youre concerned, he said, his voice gritty. Wont power?
she asked huskily. As in I wont bend you over my arm and make you scream with pleasure.
She hesitated, then sighed. Are you sure?

No, he admitted. The hammering came on the door again. With a curse, Archer forced himself
to stop teasing both of them. Put this on.

Hannah took the pink jacket that dangled from his big hand. It fit her perfectly. The hem
of the jacket skimmed the hem of the skirt. Now she looked like ultrahigh-class sin, the
kind only kings or mafia princes could afford.

Archer whistled softly. April Joy had outdone herself. It almost made him forgive her for
the black loafers that were gnawing on his toes.

The pearls have to go, he said after a moment. Someone who looks like you wouldnt be
caught dead in anything less than the best.

Hannah made a face at him, but removed the pearls and watched them vanish into the duffel.
He pulled out a tiny, sleek, black leather purse with a long braided strap and solid gold
designer initials on the side. Your passport is inside, he said.

She froze. Passport?

Rather than answering, he opened the bathroom door and ushered her out. The man pacing the
hallway began swearing.

Then his bleary eyes focused on Hannah. His jaw dropped and he forgot all about the beer
stretching his bladder. He stared at her until she vanished out the door into the alley.

Archer smiled rather grimly to himself as he shut the back door behind them. The man would
never forget Hannah, but he wouldnt be able to describe anything more of her than the
swing and sway of a very nice ass.

When they were out on the street, Archer smiled. You look very nice, Mrs. South. Thank
you, Mr....? South. Were married?

It says so on the passports. He took a ring box from his pants pocket. Here.

Hannah flipped open the velvet lid, stared, and looked hastily at Archer. Are these real?

Probably. Considering that April Joy went shopping with Archers money, almost certainly.
April would have relished spending every dime. But there was no need to tell Hannah that.
She was nervous enough about the rings as it was. Want me to get them appraised?

Openmouthed, she stared at the rings. The stones were set in what looked and felt like
platinum cool, heavy, hard. The wedding band was a wide circlet set with flush-mounted,
square, colorless diamonds. The engagement band featured a marquise-shaped silver-blue
diamond that was at least three carats, set with large, triangular, colorless diamonds on
either side.

I cant wear this, she said, swallowing.

Wrong size? He picked up the rings and her left hand. Easily he slid the rings into place.
Nope. Perfect. Lets go, sweetheart. We dont want to miss our plane.

She braced herself and didnt budge. Not until you tell me whats going on. Simple. Were
going after the Black Trinity.