When She Was Bad...

“I have a confession to make. I called Luke while you were in the bathroom and he’s trying to get a line on the Frenchman. I didn’t mention either you or Irene. We have some time with regard to Evan and his friend, I think. After all, they aren’t going anywhere. They’ll still be here tomorrow, at least until noon.” He pressed another kiss to her palm and gave himself the pleasure of hearing her breath escape on a sigh. “So there’s really nothing either of us can do right now. If Irene’s on that island, Butch will locate her. And I have a feeling that she’ll be here on Escapade Island with the Monet a lot sooner than tomorrow at noon.” Which meant that their time together might very well be less than twenty-four hours. He was stunned at how that thought pained him. He wanted every last minute he could have with Pepper almost as much as he wanted the Monet.

“In the meantime, I bet I can take your mind off of Irene and Evan,” he said.

She smiled at him. “I’ll just bet you can.”

But when she turned toward the bedroom, he pulled her toward the outside door. “C’mon.”

“But we didn’t finish…the fantasy. You didn’t finish…”

Cole turned and the concern he saw in her eyes melted something deep inside of him. “Don’t worry.” He leaned down to brush his lips over hers. “We will. I will.”

“Where are we going?”

“To paradise,” he promised.

SHE WAS DEFINITELY in paradise, Pepper thought as Cole sent the sailboat skimming across the cove. The boat itself was a rental and only built for two people, three at the most. The sun was a bright yellow ball in the sky, the sand on the shore was a nearly blinding shade of white, and the water beneath the boat was impossibly clear and blue. She could even see the ripples in the sand that the movement of the sea had made.

But it was the speed rather than the beauty that she found so exhilarating. So freeing. Worries, responsibilities, even her anxiety about Irene and the Monet—everything was whipped away by the wind. Cole was right. They couldn’t have put a better man than Butch on the task of locating her. Then Irene could give the painting to Butch, and Butch could give it back. And if that little scenario didn’t go as smoothly as Irene had predicted, Pepper would find a way to handle it.

Out here on the water, she somehow felt confident of that. And that was the only difference. Time, which had seemed to slow since she’d first set foot on the airport tarmac, had almost ceased to exist. She wondered if that was what it must have been like in the original paradise.

“Perfect,” she murmured.

And so was the man who sat with his hand on the tiller. Through the amber-tinted sunglasses she wore, he looked like some kind of bronzed god. He was lean and hard, and dangerous. For some reason it was the dangerous quality that had appealed to her from the beginning. In a million years, she wouldn’t have suspected that she’d be attracted to that type. Maybe she took after her Aunt Irene in that regard.

Droplets of spray glinted on Cole’s skin, and she found herself wanting to taste them. She was almost getting used to the heat that grew within her whenever she looked at him. Almost.

He looked so natural sitting there guiding the boat across the water, as if he’d been born to do. But then he always looked so competent, so at ease. She envied that quality about him the most. And perhaps that was what drew her.

What else? She’d never before tried to analyze the attraction she felt for him. This was a man who’d desired her, pleasured her. She’d been held against that lean, hard body, pressed beneath it, and yet she knew very little about him.

She hadn’t wanted to know about him. Once she’d read his résumé, she’d convinced herself that the less she knew the better. But now, she was curious. What had she learned since she’d come to the island?

“Penny for your thoughts,” Cole said.

“I’m thinking that you’re a surprising man.”

“In what way?”

“For starters, you went along with my slave girl/plantation owner fantasy.”

He smiled slowly. “That was my pleasure. I enjoyed meeting Elena.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Really?”

He threw back his head and laughed. The bright sound was whipped away by the wind. “I believe I detect a note of jealousy in your voice.”

She lifted her chin and lied. “Not at all. I’m just thinking of all the ways I’m going to enjoy Adam.”

“Good. Adam is thinking about his next meeting with Elena right now. He’s thinking of just how he’s going to touch her.”

Pepper felt her insides begin to melt.

“Would you like to know where I’m going to touch Elena?”

Throat dry, Pepper could only nod.

“I’m going to touch her throat where that pulse beats so fast. It beats that way whenever she’s near me, and I want to feel it against my finger. I want to taste it.”

Pepper felt her hands tighten on the edge of her seat. She was so hot, and the breeze was doing nothing to cool her.

“But what I really want to do, what I thought about doing all morning while I sat through a boring meeting in my father’s office, is that I’m going to touch Elena just the way I asked her to touch herself the last time we were together.”

The image that filled her mind was so vivid that Pepper had to grip the edge of her seat hard or she would have slid right to the floor of the boat. How could he affect her this way with words alone? And he knew exactly what he was doing to her. She could tell in the intent way he was looking at her.

“I wish we weren’t on this boat,” he murmured. “I wish I could make you come again right now.”

If he kept talking, he might be able to do just that, Pepper thought.

“Duck your head,” he said in a different tone. “I’m going to bring her around.”

She did, and the boom just missed her head. The glance she got of the shore as the boat turned told her that they’d come very close to some rocks that were jutting out into the water at the edge of the cove. It gave her some satisfaction that he must have been as distracted by the fantasy as she’d been.

When she met his eyes, he was smiling at her. “We’d better keep Adam and Elena apart until we decide to beach this little boat.” He tilted his head. “Why did it surprise you that I would go along with your fantasy?” he asked.

She thought for a moment, then said, “I didn’t expect you to be…fun.” Or perceptive or sensitive, she added silently.

“Why not?”

“You’re always so quiet. At those Sunday gatherings, you’re always on the sidelines, watching my father make pasta or Matt fire up the grill. And then there’s your résumé. Ex-CIA? I’ve always thought that working for that outfit would be pretty grim. No offense.”

“You’re right. The CIA doesn’t offer a lot of laughs. That’s one of the reasons I took Luke up on his job offer.”

“More laughs?”

“Less grimness.”

“You must have gotten at least a few chuckles getting me out of scrapes.”

His smile widened. “I did enjoy the Parakeet Caper.”

The corners of Pepper’s mouth twitched. He was referring to her attempt to lure a flyaway parakeet off of the roof of a house. She’d climbed a nearby tree to try to talk the bird down. And then she’d gotten the idea of climbing along one of the limbs and onto the roof. A half hour later, she’d finally gotten the bird to trust her, but then she’d discovered that there was no way she was getting off the roof unless she could fly.

The Allibrandi family had called Rossi Investigations and, of course, Cole had come to her rescue.

“It wasn’t funny at the time,” Pepper pointed out.

“Hey.” Cole threw up a hand. “I didn’t laugh, did I?”

No, he hadn’t laughed at her—not ever. Not even when Luke and Matt had told that story and others at their Sunday gatherings. It occurred to her then that she owed Cole Buchanan for that and for other things.

“Thanks for letting me handle the situation with Butch this afternoon,” she said. “With the gun, I mean.”

“You did a good job. You had H scared.”

His praise sent a thrill through her. “Really?”

“He couldn’t predict what you would do, and that automatically gave you the upper hand.”

“Maybe there is hope for me after all.”

The smile faded from his face. “You have good instincts. You should trust them more and stop undervaluing yourself.”

Before she could think of something to say, he told her to duck again and brought the boat around.

“Is sailing all you thought it would be?” Cole asked once they were speeding across the cove again.

“Better.” She smiled at him. “Much better. I don’t want to go back to shore. I mean, the Elena in me does, but—”

“I know exactly what you mean.” With a laugh, he patted the seat beside him. “Do you want to try sailing her?”