Black Satin (LS 675) Read online

  It wasn’t until he dropped his hands to her hips and hooked his fingers in her bikinis that she came back to some state of awareness. “Cole …”

  He was busy devouring the side of her neck. “Mmmm?”

  “We can’t—”

  “Sure we can,” he interrupted, moving his lips along her shoulder, tugging her tank-top strap with his teeth.

  “The dolphins,” she said, then gasped when his teeth closed gently on the curve of her shoulder.

  “What about them?”

  She could tell he was answering automatically and would continue his carnal exploration until he’d covered every inch of her body—or uncovered it—unless she stopped him. It took a second longer to convince herself not to go on and let him. But she had to.

  “I’m not going to make love to you on the counter of the equipment shack,” she said, wishing she sounded a bit more forceful and a lot less breathless.

  “Fine,” he said, “just tell me where you want to go.”

  “I want to go to the dolphins.”

  He stopped then to look up at her, one brow quirked suggestively. “That’s different, but I’m game.”

  “To work,” she added, shifting restlessly under his erotic ministrations. Her control was rapidly eroding and she made one last effort. “Cole, stop. Please.”

  His hands and mouth left her skin simultaneously, the sudden loss of his touch almost causing her to tumble off the counter. He stepped away, but brought his face close to hers. “Okay, we’ll go play with your fish. But I want you to answer a question first.”

  “What?” She maintained eye contact, but it was difficult. There was a storm raging in his eyes, but not of anger at her sudden change of heart. It was desire. Dark, hot, the intensity almost tangible. She almost wanted to apologize for stopping him. Almost.

  “If we didn’t have a rescue mission hanging over our heads, would you have stopped me?”

  “That’s hard to answer,” she responded honestly, “since you wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

  Cole stared at her for a moment longer. “I’ll be waiting by the platform when you’re ready.”

  He turned and walked away, leaving her to wonder how he would have answered the question if she’d added, “Would you?”

  EIGHT

  Cole pulled back on the throttle and eased the boat closer to the upcoming key. Once he was certain of their location, he turned his attention starboard.

  Kira was perched on the side rail of the boat, balancing her weight easily even though the trip hadn’t been completely smooth. The moon wasn’t much more than a sliver, but it was a clear night and the sky resembled a swath of velvet scattered with diamonds. Cole grumbled silently that a little cloud cover would have been nice, but after an assessing glance at the waters ahead, his gaze soon returned to Kira. He’d barely been able to take his eyes off her since they’d left the canal at Dr. Dolphin’s an hour earlier.

  He watched the breeze whip tiny strands of hair around her face until one caught on her mouth. She snagged it with her finger, and he was forced to watch the silky piece slide across her lips. His hands tightened around the wheel as his body responded. Everything she did—sitting, breathing, staring—reminded him of the kiss they’d shared in the equipment shack two nights before. He shifted his attention away from her lips to the black cotton T-shirt she now wore. The moon cast the fabric a pale silver. Cole was riveted by the way it caught and clung to the fullness of her breasts. His fingers twitched as he remembered how soft they’d felt, how she’d responded even though he’d barely brushed his thumbs against them.

  He shifted, trying to ease the growing discomfort between his legs. It didn’t work. With a muttered oath, he tore his gaze away from her and put it where it belonged, on the snaking shoreline off the port side. He disciplined his mind to go over each and every detail of their plan. Nothing could go wrong. He simply wouldn’t allow it.

  Kira slipped off the railing and came to stand beside him. His body hardened further at her nearness. He clamped his teeth tightly together, disgusted with his increasing lack of self-control around her. What in the hell was he doing out here with her?

  Suddenly he wished he’d never seen Kira Douglass or heard of her crazy scheme to rescue a damn five-hundred-pound fish. He could be at Repo’s, emptying his soul into the sax right now instead of risking his life—not to mention his sanity—by getting himself involved in the exact type of activity that he’d sworn never to do again.

  “How much farther to the rendezvous point?”

  She kept her voice low; it barely reached his ears. He took one hand off the wheel before he’d even realized his intent. Instead of touching her, he aborted the instinctive move and rubbed his hand distractedly across his abdomen. “About twenty minutes.”

  “You’re certain your friend will be there?”

  “I wouldn’t exactly call him a friend.”

  Kira sighed in barely concealed irritation. Cole fought his own smile, telling himself it was better to maintain distance between them. Though he wasn’t sure if irritation was any better a barrier than frustration.

  “Whatever you want to call him then.” She angled a pointed look at him. “Though how you expect me to know anything about a person I just found out about thirty minutes ago is beyond me.”

  “I told you why I didn’t mention him before.”

  “And I still don’t like it.”

  “Well, that’s just too damn bad,” Cole shot back, allowing himself to be lured by the promised relief a good argument might bring to his nether regions. “You forget I saw your common sense in action in Repo’s. I’ve got enough to deal with trying to rescue your damn fish without worrying about you.”

  He watched Kira’s eyes sparkle with anger, her fists balled at her hips. He knew the fish remark would get to her. And damned if that didn’t make him want to kiss her too.

  “Your only obligation is to P.J. I can take care of myself.”

  Cole snorted, then made a smooth shift to the left, barely escaping the karate chop to the stomach she’d sent flying his way. He knew she was under a great deal of strain, but his role tonight was a bit trickier than she realized, and he couldn’t afford to let her use him as a punching bag to ease her frustrations. Whether he deserved it or not.

  Switching tactics, he tried to soothe her. “Kira, I know you think you can handle this, but Martinez is an unscrupulous bastard capable of doing just about anything to get what he wants.” He paused, cursing under his breath when he saw her flinch. He should have known he’d screw this up. He was not a soother by nature. “Hell, Kira, you couldn’t even take on Iggy. What makes you think you’d stand a chance against someone like Juan Carlos?”

  Eyes blazing, with her hair whipping around her head like some wild Valkyrie, Kira turned on him, pushing her face up toward his. “That was different! The guy was shoving crickets in my face and trying to make me deep-throat his iguana’s tongue!”

  Cole cut the boat closer to shore and shut off the engine. As soon as he was certain they wouldn’t drift into anything, he let go of the wheel and gripped Kira by the shoulders. Pushing his nose right up to hers, he whispered fiercely, “And Martinez makes Iggy look like Howdy Doody. After thirty minutes, you’d be begging to eat the damn iguana raw or anything else you had to do to get away from him.” Her eyes widened at the violence in his tone. “You’re not going with us.” The fury in her eyes died down a bit, and Cole relaxed his grip. Softening his tone, he said, “You’ve taught me everything I need to know, Kira. Reese and I will get P.J. back to the boat. After that, it’s your show.”

  He watched her swallow and groaned out loud when she moistened her lips before she spoke. “Reese?” Her voice was more croak than whisper.

  Cole swore, but a corner of his mouth curved slightly. “You got it out of me after all. He won’t be happy about that.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t give a flying—”

  “Shhh.” Cole placed his fingers acro
ss her lips. “He doesn’t have to know. If everything goes according to plan, you’ll never meet him.” He felt her biceps muscles contract under the hand he had on her arm. His other hand was still at her lips. He didn’t move it away, even though he knew she wasn’t going to speak. Rubbing his thumb over her bottom lip, he used every bit of his restraint to keep his mind on the topic at hand and off just how badly he needed to taste her again. The thought that this time he might not be able to stop at kissing was only marginal help. “We have it nailed down, Kira. Nothing will go wrong. I’d trust Reese with my life. Will you trust me with P.J.’s?”

  She shifted her mouth away from his touch. “I thought you said he wasn’t your friend.”

  “I did.”

  Apparently sensing he wasn’t going to elaborate, she stepped away. He didn’t let his hand drop. He wanted an answer. He just wondered if she knew how much he was laying on the line for her by taking responsibility for anything—anyone—besides himself. The seconds drew out to a minute, giving Cole too much time to think about just why he had agreed to this venture.

  She turned her face to his. “I trust you.”

  His grip tightened for a moment as he steeled himself against the urge to pull her into his arms. Instead, he released her and twisted the key in the ignition. The motor sprang to life with a soft purr. He angled the boat slightly away from shore. “We’ll be at the inlet in about fifteen minutes. When I give the signal, you take over the controls. From the moment we enter the inlet, hand signals only.”

  “Yes, Cole.”

  Cole shot her a dark look. “I’m trying to reassure you, so don’t get smart-mouthed with me, okay?”

  Kira raised her eyebrows, but her lips curved in a small smile. “Yessir.”

  Cole heaved a long-suffering sigh and ignored the throaty laugh that drifted back, to him as she headed to the front of the boat. His sigh turned to a groan as he watched her prop her long, well-toned, very bare legs against the side rail.

  “Cole?” she called softly.

  “Mmm?”

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you. Whatever happened to Elvis?”

  The boat jerked slightly, and Kira had to grab the railing to keep her balance. “Cole?”

  “I heard you.”

  A long pause. She’d expected a tossed-off answer, but a quick glance at him found him scrutinizing the shoreline of the key they were passing as if he expected an ambush, and she sensed she’d hit a sore spot. Why? Telling herself she was only pushing the issue because it would distract her from the mounting tension of the rescue mission, she swung off the seat and walked back to the console. “What happened to Iggy’s pet?”

  He kept his gaze pinned to the water. “How should I know?”

  “You did hide him in Repo’s that night to distract Iggy and the gang long enough to rig the bikes, right? Where did you stick him?”

  “Why all the sudden concern? Who says he’s missing?”

  “Paul found a flier on his car the other night with a picture of Iggy and Elvis asking for information on his return. He’s even offering a reward, Cole.”

  “So? Maybe the damn thing ran away. Wouldn’t you?”

  She ignored the sarcastic comment. “Where did you hide him?” When he remained silent and turned his intense scrutiny back on the shore, Kira leaned across the console. “You didn’t hurt the man’s pet, did you?”

  That got his attention. Cole swung around, his face an inch from hers. “It’s a bit late to start worrying about him now, don’t you think? Where was all this dripping concern when Iggy was shoving crickets in your face, huh?”

  “You know I’m thankful to you for getting me out of there. But just because I didn’t want to kiss the damn thing doesn’t mean I wanted you to hurt it!”

  Cole’s eyes widened a fraction, then narrowed dangerously. He turned away, his clamped jaw and squared shoulders telling her he was obviously insulted. For a brief moment she could have sworn he’d even been hurt by her assumption. Cole the invincible?

  A few minutes passed while she mulled over that startling idea. She even took a step back toward the front of the boat, but she just couldn’t leave it alone. She waited until he had to check the water in her direction, then said softly, “Just tell me what you did with him.” He looked at her, a muscle in his jaw twitching as if he was fighting the urge to answer. “Please? I won’t ask another question about it, I promise.”

  Cole cut his gaze quickly to his left, checking the shoreline, then back at her. “You never learn, do you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t make promises when you don’t know all the facts, Kira.” He leaned closer, his eyes boring into hers with an intensity that was just this side of mesmerizing. “And don’t ask questions unless you’re really ready for the answers.”

  Kira bristled at his implication but kept her gaze locked on his. “So, tell me.”

  Cole straightened away, cutting the engine back and turning the boat toward what looked like a solid shoreline. “I gave him to Axe.” Cole slanted a quick glance her way, a sardonic smile curving his lips at the question he must have seen in her eyes. “Okay, sweet lips, I’ll give you one. Axe is Repo’s cook.”

  Kira’s mouth dropped open. Unable to prevent the question from slipping out, she blurted, “Repo serves food?”

  Cole maneuvered the boat into an almost invisible slit carved into the mangroves that made up the shoreline. “Pay attention, you’ll have to steer this thing back out of here.” She would have responded, but as soon as the boat was fully into the tiny inlet, he motioned to her to keep quiet.

  Feeling as smoothly maneuvered as the boat he’d just tucked neatly away, she shoved her fists into the pockets of her shorts and took her place next to him. The inlet wasn’t much more than a tidal pond sunken into mangroves and dead coral. She spied a small pier, one end dipping perilously close to the water, proving it hadn’t seen any recent use.

  Cole steered the boat toward it. Once alongside, Kira threw a rope around the most stable-looking piling. Cole leaned forward and grabbed the end of the rope, motioning Kira to step back to the console. They switched places, and Cole grabbed the bags of equipment and gear they’d packed earlier. With the underwater transponder, oxygen tanks, and various other tools Cole felt the need to carry, it wasn’t a light load. He lifted them onto the dock, away from the sunken end, with ease.

  Turning back to Kira, he nodded, then placed his palms on the pier as if to lever himself up. But he paused for a moment. Kira held her breath, watching the play of muscles as they flexed under his black T-shirt. In that split second it hit her. She didn’t want him to go. She didn’t want him put at any risk by trying to get P.J. back. It struck her with the force of a Gulf hurricane that he had become more important to her than P.J., her institute, even herself.

  When or just how it had happened, she didn’t have the luxury of thinking about. The simple fact was she did care. And he had to go. But he didn’t have to go alone.

  As if he’d read her mind, he shot a look over his shoulder. In seconds he’d wrapped and knotted the rope around the piling and was at her side. Her hands were wrapped around the wheel and throttle, but his hands were on her face, holding her motionless a mere breath away from his own.

  “I’ll get him back,” he whispered. “Do it like we planned, Kira.”

  Had he spoken? She felt the fierceness of his tone almost more than she actually heard the words. Her hand shot up to caress his face, to savor one touch before he left, but she broke off the movement with her palm a whisper away from his cheek. When she spoke, she was careful to keep her voice soft. “Don’t do anything too risky.”

  Cole’s eyes, flat and emotionless a moment ago, gleamed for a split instant. “There’s always a risk, Kira.”

  His searing gaze held hers intently, commandingly. Suddenly Kira knew they weren’t talking about Juan Carlos, or tonight’s mission. But she couldn’t shake the feeling of imminent danger in the hours ahead.r />
  She reacted on instinct; her hand trembled violently next to his cheek but didn’t touch him. “Come back, okay? P.J. or no P.J., you come back to me, Cole Sinclair.”

  If his gaze had been hot a second ago, it flashed in response to her heated whisper with an emotion so primitive, her entire body began to shiver uncontrollably.

  As if with great force of will, he took hold of her hand, still next to his cheek. Never shifting his gaze from hers, he pressed it firmly against his mouth; his lips on her palm were a brand on her skin. Folding her fingers down into a fist, he stared at her a moment longer. Then, with a nod, he turned and leaped noiselessly onto the high side of the rotting pier.

  Kira’s heart was pounding wildly against her chest. Breath she couldn’t spare remained locked inside her lungs, useless, as she watched the pier rock dangerously under his weight.

  He quickly arranged the gear on his back, then untied the rope and tossed it down to her. He made the previously arranged hand motion telling her to head to the location he and Reese would attempt to steer P.J. to. Then he was gone.

  Kira dropped anchor around the bend from the spot where Juan Carlos’s hacienda-style home overlooked the natural cove in which P.J. was being held. She tugged hard at the rope, making certain it was tight, then moved to set up the transmitting device. She’d agreed with Cole that she had to keep the boat out of direct sight, since Martinez had powerful floodlights angled toward the water at the cove’s entrance that could be switched on without warning.

  She glanced starboard toward the shoreline, barely one hundred yards away. It was dense with stunted palms, sea oats, and mangroves. The old coral that lined the shore was jagged enough to prevent all but the very foolhardy from attempting to beach there. The information Cole had uncovered—probably from Reese, she now assumed—had shown this location to be the least patrolled, while still keeping her close enough for the sound of Rio’s signature whistle to travel. Cole had reluctantly agreed that she should have a backup transponder in case he was able to free P.J., but for some reason they were separated. Kira shuddered at the thought of something happening to Cole.…