Straight Through the Heart Page 7

  From the jewelry case someone had provided along with the new wardrobe, she chose gold hoop earrings and numerous bangles for her wrists. She looked prim but fashionable, she thought, as she examined her image in the mirror. Rich, too. The clothes were fantastic, their labels indicating that whoever bought them had pulled no punches where price was concerned. Had Eric chosen these and ordered them? The only opportunity he’d had was when she slept at his house. Maybe Mercier was responsible.

  When she emerged from the bedroom, he smiled his approval, slipping a cell phone into his shirt pocket. He had also dressed in white, wearing shorts, a knit shirt and sneakers. It emphasized the darkness of his skin. The man looked scrumptious, but she decided she preferred him blond and without facial hair.

  He stood immediately, resting his hands on his hips as he appraised her. “Excellent choice of apparel.”

  “Gracias. May we go now?” Dawn could not wait to get out of their rooms, or the goldfish bowl, as she was coming to think of it. Having to be seriously conscious of every single move and sound she made was driving her crazy.

  He reached for her hand and she gave it. The warmth of his palm and those long, strong fingers laced between hers felt reassuring. Confidence seemed to emanate from his pores and bolster her own. Not that she didn’t think she could handle the mission, but she knew she could never have done it on her own. He knew all the ropes. Master, indeed.

  Clay Senate, or Adil, as he was to be called, and Ressam joined them at the elevator. Dawn lowered her gaze to the floor, but only after a lightning-quick assessment of the men who would protect them. Ressam had left off his ghutra. Clay kept his. Both men wore slacks with floral cotton shirts worn untucked to hide the weapons she knew they carried. Covered up as she was, she felt naked without hers.

  She remained silent while Eric barked a few terse instructions to the men in Farsi. Were there cameras in the elevators, too? she wondered, then decided they were assuming so just in case there were.

  Maybe with so many international travelers and no rules governing surveillance, the nooks and crannies of everywhere contained wires and cameras.

  God, this was not what she had expected or trained for. Undercover work was not her forté. She much preferred doing sanctioned breaking and entering. Even the official hacking she had done on the computers back at headquarters before being transferred was preferable to this.

  Surely on the sailboat it would be safe to be themselves again, at least for the duration of their day trip.

  As if he had read her mind, Eric spoke. “Live it, Aurora,” he said quietly as they exited the hotel and headed for the car that she supposed would take them to the marina.

  Well, that killed that hope, Dawn thought. She had to become Aurora with no hope for a rest until this was over. “Yes, Jarad,” she replied softly. “With relish, I promise.”

  “Good little wife,” he replied under his breath. “Allah be praised.”

  Necessary role-playing aside, Dawn heartily wished she could kick him in the shins.

  Chapter 6

  “The Angeline? What a lovely name for a boat,” Dawn said softly as she stepped carefully on board the sailing yacht. “She is very beautiful.”

  Eric had gone ahead of her. Ladies first did not apply as far as he was concerned. He appeared to be enjoying this charade of theirs to the max.

  Dawn had kissed him last night, not just for any cameras that might be running, but also to show him he wasn’t calling all the shots, at least not between them. The problem was that the kiss had backfired on her and she had almost lost control of it, along with her good sense. The man was no novice when it came to lip-locks, that was for sure.

  He grasped her waist and lifted her onto the deck. “A top-of-the-line, forty-two-footer,” he replied to her observation about the boat. “Do you know anything of yachts, my sweet?” he asked, steadying her as if she were fragile.

  Dawn shook her head. “No, I have never sailed.” The absolute truth. All her life, she had hated deep water. It was not a phobia, exactly, and she could swim very well, but all the same she didn’t like deep water.

  She glanced warily at the man standing several feet away, watching him through squinty eyes. The brown face beneath his captain’s cap looked weathered, his body, lean and mean. His khaki shorts and shirt resembled a uniform. The white cap looked too new. She quickly lowered her gaze and covered her mouth with her hand as if automatically attempting to hide her face from him.

  “Our captain, Mr. Kerosian,” Eric announced, stepping between her and the man. “If you would go below, my dove, we will cast off. You may return to deck in a while when I come for you.”

  Dawn did as ordered, trying all at once to remain regal while hurrying to obey. She thought she had performed pretty well. Eric should have no reason at all to fuss about her stepping out of character.

  Once in the salon, her curiosity got the better of her. She tossed her tote bag onto one of the suede-upholstered lounges, then plundered through every inch of the efficient little kitchen, the head and the two sleeping cabins. It wasn’t on the scale of the private jet, but it was very luxurious for a relatively small yacht.

  Though this was supposed to be a day trip and they would not be sleeping aboard, Dawn figured she might never get a chance to examine a pleasure yacht like this one again unless she found she loved sailing and then won a lottery. Neither seemed all that likely. The boat was sleek, serene and ultracomfortable.

  “Is your stomach surviving, little landlubber?” Eric asked.

  “Admirably,” she answered, greeting him with a lift of her chin. “I believe I am a, how would you say it, an old salty.”

  He laughed and glanced around the salon, taking it all in much more quickly than Dawn had done. “Well done. Come above and we will watch together for dolphins.”

  Dawn retied the scarf to cover her hair and buttoned her shirt up to her neck. She didn’t want to risk sunburn through her artificially darkened skin. And there was her newly acquired modesty to consider.

  He took her directly to the bow where they stood against the rail facing forward, Eric’s arms braced on either side of her as he held the steel railing. She remained very still when he bent down and placed a kiss on her cheek, then settled his mouth next to her ear. “This is no ordinary sailboat for hire.”

  “I noticed,” she replied, not daring even now to abandon her persona. “You are a very important man who would never settle for the ordinary, even temporarily.”

  “No one can hear us here. The Angeline is custom-made, outfitted for a private and very wealthy owner, not for tourist day trips, even for one such as Jarad Al-Dayal. I want you to be prepared. I’m certain Quince arranged for this. We might be sailing directly to his stronghold now, wherever that is. Unless this trip is simply a diversion to keep us busy until he has verified my identity. I don’t believe Captain Kerosian knows which yet until he gets a call.”

  “I wish I were armed,” she said.

  One of his hands disappeared from the rail and a second later snaked around her waist to the buttons at the middle of her shirt front. Cold steel and a warm hand slid inside the gap he had unfastened. She sucked in her breath and he tucked a pistol beneath the waistband of her slacks. He smoothed the fabric down over the weapon. Dawn’s heart fluttered.

  “Your security blanket,” he murmured with another kiss near her ear.

  Dawn sighed her thanks and rested her head back against his chest, slipping back into her role as Aurora. For a long time they stood there, gazing out over the Aegean.

  Suddenly, she saw them. “Look! Dolphins!” she cried, pointing. “Just as you predicted.”

  “What a sight,” he declared as she turned to meet his gaze. “You are almost as beautiful as the moment I first saw you.”

  “Almost?” she asked, frowning at him.

  “But not quite,” he answered. “That is a sincere compliment, by the way.”

  “Then I thank you.”

  Why
had he said that? Probably to insure that she didn’t screw things up because of her independent nature. And maybe he figured she needed to hold on to her real identity. He must know how much she hated acting subservient.

  “You are doing great so far,” he said, corroborating her assumption about his praise. Yep, he was pulling strings. Handling her like a pro. What else should she have expected—that he was really interested in her as a woman?

  Having him take a serious interest in her was not one of her ambitions, anyway. As it stood now, she had only two goals. She wanted to be known as the best damn intelligence agent in her group, and to help enhance the world’s opinion of her profession, specifically female agents. To that end, she used every skill she had learned and threw herself into every mission, regardless of the personal danger. Her second aspiration did deal with men, in a way—she intended to steer clear of them emotionally and restrict her trust, at least in the personal areas of her life.

  She seemed to lack the necessary intuition that most women had, and therefore had suffered not one, but two relatively sharp kicks in the teeth. She simply was no good at figuring out men and how they thought, and this particular man gave new meaning to the word enigmatic.

  She didn’t need Vinland’s interest or his compliments, only his leadership on this mission and his respect when she did her job as ordered. This was business.

  Dawn looked back out to sea where the dolphins leapt in unison and admired their ability to stay in synch. She hoped that she, Eric and the others could perform as precisely as those dolphins did and get this mission completed.

  She could stand being Aurora, his compliant little wife, for a little while, but was in serious danger of losing herself in another way if the job with this specific Sextant agent lasted too long.

  The day wore on as they tacked around the islands. Dawn tensed a bit when they docked for lunch at a quaint little bay on Kos. She hardly tasted the food that Eric consumed with gusto. However, when they reboarded the Angeline a couple of hours later, no one had approached them about a meeting with anyone.

  Eric remained on deck and gestured for her to join him. “Shall we go for a swim? The captain says there is a perfect and very private inlet on an uninhabited island he knows about. We’re headed there now.”

  “Your idea?” she asked quietly.

  “Yes, but his choice of island,” he admitted, letting her know that this could be the rendezvous point with Quince if that was what the captain had been hired to arrange.

  “Sounds lovely. Shall I go and change?” At his insistence, she had brought a bathing suit and beach cover in her tote.

  “No, we will change after we get out there.” He got up and took her hand.

  She was getting way too used to holding hands with him, Dawn thought. But to anyone watching, she figured it would seem a natural thing for a recently married couple to do.

  Dawn hung back while the captain advised Eric that he would drop anchor just offshore and let the two of them swim to the beach. Damned difficult to do without someone noticing a gun tucked in your swimwear, she thought.

  “Impossible!” Eric declared, red in the face and spouting the proper outrage. “I insist you lower the inflatable for us. I will not allow another man’s eyes to view my wife uncovered enough to go swimming!”

  The captain shrugged as if it didn’t matter to him and set about doing as Eric demanded. Ressam gave him a hand with the inflatable, then stood away.

  In moments, she and Eric were motoring to the pristine, unspoiled beach that appeared to be shielded completely by rough, rocky cliffs.

  He cut the motor and they stepped out into knee-deep surf. She helped him tug the rubber dinghy up onto the shore where it would not be washed back out by the gentle waves.

  “So what do we do now?” she asked, her hands propped on her hips.

  “Stop looking so saucy and get out of sight behind that outcropping over there while you change.” He mugged at her and mouthed the word parabolics.

  Was he kidding? Parabolic mikes? Out here? She must have shown her disbelief because he nodded emphatically. Maybe he wasn’t paranoid. Or even if he was, who was she to knock that? It would probably be what kept them alive. She obeyed, as usual, and went behind the rocks. But she did not undress right away. What if there were cameras, too?

  Nonsense. Parabolic microphones that could aim and eavesdrop at a distance, she might buy, but video was a reach. Still, she scanned the cliffs very carefully, then looked out to sea. The Angeline was the only craft visible.

  That was when she saw Eric climbing up the face of one cliff, already about three-quarters of the way up. No rope, no belay pins, nothing but his bare hands and feet.

  Dawn covered her mouth to keep from crying out, startling him and causing him to fall. Instead she watched, fascinated by the play of muscles in his calves and forearms as he gripped, reached and gripped again. Terrified for him, she held her breath and prayed for his safety.

  The moments crawled by like hours. Finally, he hefted himself up onto the ledge and stood, surveying the portion of the island hidden from her view.

  He turned and looked down, waving. She raised her hand tentatively and waved back. Surely he would find an easier way down. Hope fled when he dropped to his stomach, legs hanging over the edge, feet searching for purchase.

  “Idiot,” she whispered to herself. “What the devil is he thinking?”

  Well, whatever that was, she refused to watch any longer. Instead, she whipped off her shirt. Careful to keep the large rock outcroppings between her and those who might view her from the yacht, Dawn had changed and reached the water’s edge by the time Eric joined her.

  “The place is clear,” he assured her. “I could see the entire island from up there and it’s uninhabited, only rocks and seabirds. No mikes and no cameras. I believe this is a test and also a diversion to keep us busy until Quince can check us out with his sources.”

  He zoomed past her and splashed into the water. Dawn followed. When he surfaced next to her after a dive, he said, “Might as well enjoy ourselves while we wait for the real summons. I figure we probably have a couple of days to kill.”

  She was in over her head in all respects. He looked so damn good with his muscles all wet and shiny, his teeth gleaming when he smiled, his eyes twinkling. She missed the incredible blue of his eyes that was nearly the same color as the azure water in which they swam.

  His hands gripped her waist as she treaded water to stay afloat. “Dawn, are you all right? You haven’t said a word. No one can hear us here.”

  She blew out a breath and raked her wet hair off her face. “Shouldn’t we be making a plan? Deciding what we should do when we meet with Quince?”

  “I told you already before we flew out. I make an offer, buy the gizmo with the information on it and we leave. Someone else will do the actual cleanup. My job is to get in, get the goods and get out. Yours is to identify the shooter if he’s there.”

  She moved her legs, brushing against his, wishing he would turn her loose so she could breathe evenly and get her equilibrium back.

  “You stay out of the confrontation so you can maintain this disguise for the next time something like this comes along?” she asked, trying hard to concentrate on aspects of the mission and not the proximity of that heat-seeking missile she felt against her stomach.

  He shrugged one shoulder and smiled. “Jarad’s persona has come in handy a few times. Hate to ditch a good alternate identity just to collar Quince myself.”

  “What if he’s copied the information? Suppose he intends to sell it more than once?”

  “He advertised exclusive use of it when he put out the word. He’s gotta know he’d get himself killed for double-dealing. No, all his bidders will be in one place and our people will make sure none of them leave with what they came after. I’ll outbid them all, anyway.”

  It sounded too easy to her. “So we just…buy it and go?”

  He smiled, looking straight into her e
yes. “I buy it and we go. You remain in the background, very low profile. Your only job is to see whether Quince is the one who killed Bergen or if it was a close associate of his who is present when we have the meeting.”

  She pushed at his hands until he released her. “I’m not in the mood to swim. Let’s go.”

  He turned her around so that she faced the beach. “Stay in front of me till we get behind the rocks. Jarad can’t let the others see that lovely bod of yours from the boat.”

  “They probably saw me get into the water,” she reminded him. “Jarad didn’t seem to care then.”

  “Yeah, but that thong is way too enticing to give them a rear view.”

  “It is not a thong!” she argued.

  “Close enough. That’s the one thing I didn’t choose for you. I asked for a modest two-piece swimsuit. Maybe they don’t even make those anymore.” He sounded so disgruntled.

  She half turned to glare at him. “You picked out the clothes? When?”

  “While you were sleeping. Now get a wiggle on. We’ve got to sit behind those rocks long enough for me to have my wicked way with you.”

  She shrieked in protest when he goosed her waist.

  “Not really,” he assured her, laughing. “Just for show.”

  Right. Dawn wished her pulse would quit racing. Her blood just would not behave when he was this close, especially not when he was talking so casually about having sex. Even the pretense of having it.

  “I can handle this,” she said to herself. “I can.”

  “Sure you can. Never doubted it for a minute,” he said, following close behind her as she waded out of the surf. “Now get your pretty little butt behind that rock. The captain’s binoculars are probably glowing red with the heat from his hands.”

  Dawn laughed with him. “You are impossible!”

  “Possible,” he argued. “Very possible. Try me.”

  “Not on a dare,” Dawn muttered. Not on a double-dog dare, she added to herself.

  They remained behind the rocks for about half an hour. Eric stretched out on the sand, head resting on his hands, and fell sound asleep. Dawn sat there fuming. The least he could have done was talk to her while they knew they had no listeners.