All Tied Up

“Right,” he agreed, messing with the thermostat before giving her his full attention. “As soon as we take care of some critical business.” Offering nothing more, he headed toward the bathroom.

She gaped at his back. “What does that mean?” But she was talking to air. He’d disappeared around the corner, and a second later, the shower came on.

Nicole shoved aside the blanket and shivered. Hugging herself against the cold, she stomped into the bathroom, finding Constantine already behind the curtain. “What critical business?” she demanded. “There’s a hurricane coming. A big one. We have to leave.”

The curtain moved and he peeked out at her, water clinging to his long, dark lashes. Then he disappeared without a word. She flung her hands out to the side. Unbelievable! She climbed into the shower and faced him, instantly finding herself pulled into his arms, one of her legs lifted to his hip, his body fitted to hers. He was aroused, and suddenly she was, too.

She gave him a frustrated look, pretending to be unaffected by their naked bodies pressed together. “Why didn’t you answer me?”

Mischief danced in his eyes. “Because I knew you’d get in the shower if I didn’t.”

Secretly, she thrilled at his response. “Answer now.”

“First and foremost, we have to make fast tracks down to the boat and pick up the money and supplies, before we can’t get to it at all. Then, we do some fishing, prior to disappearing until the trial.” His hand slid around her backside, fingers trailing the crease low enough to make her moan.

She reached behind her and covered his hand, struggling for coherent thought. “Stop. I can’t think. What the heck are you talking about? Fishing?” Surely, he was joking.

He grinned, apparently pleased with that answer. “Then don’t think.”

That wasn’t an option and he damn well knew as much. “Explain!”

A low, sexy chuckle slid from his lips. “We’re going to catch us a bad guy,” he said, derailing any further questions by kissing her, a fiery kiss that carried her into oblivion.

For only a moment, he raised his head, giving her a sizzling look before saying, “This is one of those times you have to let me do my job.” The words had barely left his mouth, when he penetrated her, sliding his long, hard erection inside her and stealing her breath. Suddenly, the meaning of his words wasn’t clear.

Did he mean, trust him to do his job, to get them out of here safely? Or trust him to give her an orgasm? Because as he began thrusting in and out of her, she was quite certain, the orgasm part was a sure thing.

***

AN HOUR LATER, Nicole sat next to Constantine, in the little Mazda he’d produced from who-knew-where, eating burritos from Taco Bell. The wind whipped furiously around the car; the clouds were dark and ominous, but no rain fell. According to Constantine, they were about ten minutes from the boat, having stopped to eat, and then they would begin the business of “fishing” for the truth. Translation: setting up Flores. She finished off a bite of food, listening to his plan to lure Carlos into the open and prove Flores to be innocent or guilty.

“It sounds dangerous,” she stated, wiping sauce off her hand.

Crumbling a burrito wrapper, Constantine tossed it in the bag. “Less dangerous than going public at the trial without dealing with this.”

Reluctantly, she agreed, wishing their fantasy hotel stay could have lasted a bit longer. There were no easy answers to any of this. No putting off reality.

She inhaled and exhaled. “Okay then. What do I do?”

“I shipped Flores a prepaid phone—”

“You’re kidding! When? Won’t they track the address you mailed it from?”

He gave her a reprimanding look. “You’ll never learn to trust me, will you? I bought the phone on the road the first night. I tossed a few bills at the clerk, and he mailed it for me.”

Tension rushed from her shoulders. “You really thought ahead.”

“You learn to do that when you live fighting for your life. I know Flores has the phone because I called him.”

“When?” she asked, surprised by this news.

He patted the car’s dash. “While I was nabbing our ride. He thinks things between the two of us are cool.”

“But that’s not the case.” As much as he wanted to defend Flores, she’d seen the darkness in his eyes when the man’s name came up, seen the doubt.

A muscle in his jaw jumped, his teeth clenched. “We’ll know soon enough.” He seemed to take stock of his emotions and, adopting a more businesslike, rather than bitter, tone, he said, “Here’s how this will play out. I’ll call Flores and tell him I need cash, that I can’t get to my funds, but that I’ll get back to him with the drop location. As soon as I hang up, you call him. Tell him I’m in a convenience store and you grabbed the phone. You’re scared. Tell him I’m on a vengeance trip, hunting Carlos, planning to kill him. Tell him you need help, and then give him the boat’s location.”