- Home
- Donna Kauffman
Black Satin Page 12
Black Satin Read online
Page 12
She yanked her mind from that destructive path. She set up the equipment, checked to make sure the signal was transmitting, then lowered the speaker quietly overboard, letting it sink a few feet before tying off the rope to keep it from drifting. Nothing was going to go wrong. Reese and Cole would enter the cove underwater, dive down to the underwater gate in the fence that closed in the cove, and release P.J. Reese would slink off to remain mysterious somewhere, and Cole would take the small inflatable raft Reese was providing to meet her at the boat. With P.J. hopefully following close behind.
She focused on seeing P.J. again, repeating over and over that it would be okay. She quickly moved to the rear of the boat to check on the tarpaulin sling stretched across the cutaway section of the boat. Providing P.J. was healthy, she’d signal him to leap onto the sling just as they’d done dozens of times before when they performed routine medical checks. Only this time, he’d stay in the sling, with her keeping him wet, until Cole had steered them safely back to the institute.
Nothing could go wrong.
A split second later gunshots shattered the silence of the almost moonless night with a deadly staccato matched only by the sudden acceleration of her heartbeat.
Kira ran to the console and grabbed the marine binoculars, then moved to the front of the boat, aiming the powerful lenses up the coastline toward the opening to the cove. Not that she could see anything in the dead of night, but her protective instincts toward Cole and P.J. propelled her to action—she couldn’t just stand there, wringing her hands.
She strained to make out any movement on the water, wanting to see that inflated raft so badly, she was afraid she’d miss it for the tears misting her eyes. After a few moments of deafening silence, a burst of gunfire rang out again. Kira dropped the binoculars, her hand pressed between her teeth to keep from shouting Cole’s name. Something had gone wrong.
Deadly wrong?
She quickly checked the transmitter. It was working. She checked the illuminated dial on her wrist. He was late. She went aft again and leaned out over the end of the boat, straining to see any movement coming in her direction. Nothing.
For a split second she thought she saw a dark shadow, but it didn’t reappear, and she decided it was just a wave capping. She checked her watch again, debating the merits of sending out a low-whistled signal to P.J. that would make him leap out of the water. If he was free and heading her way, she’d be able to see him leap, but it might also make him a target if any of the gunmen were giving chase. Rational thoughts fought with chaotic emotions. She couldn’t risk giving the signal. What had gone wrong? How long should she wait before taking some sort of action? Had Cole been hurt?
She blocked the riot of questions from her mind and checked her watch again. He was very late now. There had been no gunfire for several minutes. She didn’t ponder all the ramifications of that, as she determined that it might be safer now for her to go after Cole.
She flipped open the trunk in the back of the boat and lifted out her diving gear. She picked up the oxygen tank she’d stowed away earlier, before Cole’s arrival at Dr. Dolphin, then decided it wasn’t that far to shore. It would only slow her down. If Cole was still out by the gate … Even with full diving gear she couldn’t get to him. He had the light she’d need to guide herself that far in the dark.
She stowed the tank back in the trunk and quickly shed her shorts and shirt. She straightened the straps of her swimsuit and swore under her breath when they twisted further under her shaky ministrations. Despite Cole’s inflexible rule that she was to stay on the boat no matter what, Kira had felt it important to be prepared for any possibility. In this case, she hated being right.
She tucked her sneakers inside the elastic leg bands of her suit, then slipped on the flippers, mask, and snorkel. Diving gloves were the last to go on. Taking one more look toward the cove and seeing nothing, she slid into the water. Shivering despite the warmer-than-average temperature, she headed for the shadowed shoreline.
Minutes later she slowed and began to tread water. Carefully, she reached down and removed one of her flippers. She tossed it onto a large piece of coral barely jutting above the water. The other flipper followed. Just as carefully she worked to put on her sneakers. It took a few minutes and many mumbled oaths, but once she had them on, she carefully approached the shore.
Her knees and elbows were bleeding, and there was a nasty scrape on her thigh, but she finally made it onto dry land. She tucked her snorkel and mask inside the gnarled roots of a dense mangrove patch and carefully picked her way toward the cove. The dense undergrowth wasn’t any kinder to her bare skin than the coral had been, but she barely noticed the pain. She edged around another stunted palm tree that hung out over the water, then ducked back inland for a few yards. Once she was able to climb through the tangle of mangrove roots back to the edge, she scanned the shoreline. She blinked once, then twice. The raft was there, bobbing against the coral. And if she wasn’t mistaken, it was occupied.
Oh, Lord, Cole!
The black shadow draped haphazardly across the small raft didn’t move so much as it shifted with the movement of the water. Almost as if he were asleep. But as Kira made her way frantically toward it she had no doubt that Cole was unconscious. Had he been shot?
She stumbled twice, biting the inside of her mouth to keep from crying out, and finally made it to the raft. Mindful of its precarious position, she grabbed at the rope, securing it to a small tree, and guided herself until she could lean against the rounded side. The raft was black and made of a heavy rubberized canvas.
“Cole?” He was on his stomach, his face turned away from her. She quickly checked for water in the boat. There was none. He hadn’t drowned. She pulled off her diving gloves and reached a trembling hand toward his neck.
Placing her fingers against the side of his neck, she felt a pulse. A strong pulse. She shifted her weight carefully until she was almost completely inside the two-man boat. She carefully ran her hands over his back and down his arms, checking for … she didn’t know. Bullet wounds? Kira shuddered, figuring it was the danger of the situation that made her feel strangely detached from Cole, even with her hands on his body. She scrutinized the sodden black T-shirt, but the color made it impossible to discern if he was bleeding.
Not stopping to consider what she’d do if he had been shot, she leaned over him and ran her hands down his legs, encased in black neoprene diver’s trunks that ended above the knee. She felt a strap of some kind around his calf. Figuring it might be a knife that she could use to cut away his shirt or pants if necessary, she stretched as far as she could to try and unbuckle it. She’d just gotten it loose when Cole surged to life under her. If she hadn’t grabbed his arm, she’d have fallen back into the coral-laden water.
“It’s okay, it’s just—” She broke off when she swiped the hair out of her eyes and realized the ones staring back at her were blue. Or maybe gray. It was hard to tell in the dark. But one thing they definitely weren’t was black.
“Who are you?” she blurted out.
“I might ask you the same question, luv.” His accent sounded strange, not quite British, but he didn’t give her the time to figure it out. “Hand me the knife like a good bird, then we’ll get around to introductions.”
Still stunned by the magnitude of her mistake, Kira held out the sheathed knife without even a word of protest. Then it struck her. “Reese,” she whispered.
NINE
Kara noted the infinitesimal moment of surprise before Reese’s face became an unreadable mask. “You are Reese.” She grabbed his arm and yanked it. “Where’s Cole? What happened to him? Tell me!”
The big man—blond she now realized as she looked at his eyebrows, though his wet hair looked much darker—carefully removed her hand from his arm. “Your concern is touching, but if you want to know how Cole is, then I suggest you get back to the damn boat you weren’t supposed to leave in the first place and ask him yourself.”
He’d sta
rted out in a soft tone, but by the end he was whispering so fiercely, she leaned away from him. It occurred to her that maybe there was a good reason Reese hadn’t wanted anyone to know who he was. But he wouldn’t hurt her. Not if he was a friend of …
Cole’s description of their less than amicable relationship played back in her mind. She glanced at the water behind her, then back to Reese. He was staring at her, no trace of emotion visible in his light eyes. Still in a state of semishock from the tangled events of the evening, she found herself unable to concentrate on what he’d just said. Instead, she said the first thing that struck her. “Are all smugglers as good as you two at hiding their thoughts?”
His jaw twitched lightly. “Is that what Sinclair told you?”
“He didn’t tell me anything about you. I sort of found out your name by … accident.”
“I don’t believe this,” he muttered, rubbing his shoulder. With a pained sign, he said, “To answer your earlier question—we tripped an alarm and all hell broke loose. I assume Sinclair made it back to your boat. That is, if you didn’t run off when you heard gunfire.”
Kira’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t much like this man. Whoever or whatever he was. “No. I waited, but he didn’t show up. So I left the boat anchored and swam to shore to see if he needed my help.” She ignored Reese’s disbelieving snort. It had finally sunk in that Cole was probably back at the boat with P.J. by now, and she was wasting time talking to a surly Australian. “Are the bad guys gone?”
He arched a blond brow. “So now I’m a good guy?”
“What I meant was, if we aren’t in any danger, I’d appreciate it if we could heave ho and get back to the boat. I have a dolphin to take care of.”
His eyes narrowed, cynicism replaced by disgust. “Yeah, he almost gets blown sky-high, and you’re worried about a fish. Figures.” He shook his head. “I’ve been trying to lure him back for over a year. Couldn’t figure out how a simple Sheila pulled it off.” He focused those eerie light eyes on her again. “But you’re a cocky one. Guess you just nagged him to death.” He snorted. “American women.”
Kira couldn’t decide which insult to address first, but she hadn’t missed the reference to the danger they’d been in that night. She had to get back to Cole. “Go to hell.”
“Already been there,” he shot back.
“Fine then, go back to Australia. At least there you won’t have to worry about being threatened by some American ‘Sheila.’ ” She turned to leave, but was immobilized by a firm grip on her arm. Kira wondered why Cole’s touch had affected her so intimately, while with Reese she simply had a burning desire to kick him between the legs.
“I’ll take you back to the boat. Keep quiet.”
“Yes, sir,” she said mutinously, once he’d let go of her. She could have sworn he snarled, but she decided to let it go and just get back to the boat and Cole.
She saw him start to reach for the small motor with his right arm, check the movement, then use his left instead. She’d been so angry at him, she’d forgotten she’d found him unconscious. “You’re hurt, aren’t you?”
“We’ll be there faster if you sit still,” was all he said.
There was a long stretch of silence while he maneuvered the boat off the coral. They had gone several hundred yards away from the cove when he spoke again. “Can you steer this thing?”
“Yes. Why, is your injury serious? Let me help.” She started to shift off her side of the raft, but Reese raised his hand, signaling her to stop.
“Follow the shore about another hundred yards, then head straight out. The boat should be in front of you.”
“Okay. But you’ll have to move over—”
“I was wrong to get Cole involved tonight,” he said abruptly. “Don’t let him follow me. Just tell him, mission accomplished.”
“Involved in what? What mission? I thought—” She never finished the sentence, because Reese had disappeared over the side. Alarmed, she looked out over the water in the direction he’d dived, but he didn’t surface. Just as she was about to head closer to shore, she saw his head break the surface near the coral. He waved her off. She turned the tiny raft around and headed in the direction of the boat. She prayed Cole was there with P.J. and that both were okay.
One thing was for certain. P.J. was going to be much happier to see her than Cole.
She spied the boat and wanted to whoop out loud when she was close enough to make out a dorsal fin protruding from the tip of the sling. P.J.! She settled for pumping her fist in the air and opened up the tiny-horsepower engine to its max, not caring if she made a bit too much noise. In the next instant a large black shadow loomed over the side of the boat.
She could see him gripping the railing and couldn’t stop the stupid grin from plastering itself all over her face even when he said, his voice filled with more than a little menace, “Don’t you ever follow instructions?”
She threw him a line, which he grabbed in the air, dragging her the last few feet. He reached down and pulled her into the boat. His strength still amazed her, and his touch had a wildfire effect on her pulse.
“Where in the hell have you been?”
“I can see you’re okay,” she said dryly. “How’s P.J.?”
“I checked the signs you told me to look for. He seems to be fine. Hard to tell with that damn smile always pasted on his face. I just wet him down, but we need to get a move on.”
As anxious as she was to reunite with P.J. and make sure he was all right, Kira was surprised at her sudden reluctance to turn away from Cole. Apparently, she did wear her emotions on her sleeve, because his fierce expression gentled a bit. He reached up to run a finger along the side of her face, pushing back the ragged snarled strands.
“You okay?”
His voice was a deep baritone that vibrated through her skin straight to her heart. “Well, I lost a few points to the coral, but I’m all right. Why, worried about me?” She bit back the urge to grin, even though she felt like shouting. Somewhere under that tough hide, he cared for her. And that was the difference. Cole was a man who’d locked away his soul because something had harmed it so badly, he couldn’t risk exposing it again. Whereas Reese apparently had no soul at all. That reminded her of the message she’d promised to deliver. “Reese said to tell you mission accomplished.”
Cole’s eyes fairly glittered in response to that bit of news. “You have the raft,” he said, as if just remembering how she’d arrived. “I’m playing nursemaid to a fish, and you’re out gallivanting around with Reese?”
Given Reese’s comments, she figured something else was going on tonight besides a dolphin rescue. She’d question him on that later, but right now she needed to know something else. “Jealous too?”
Cole yanked her up against his chest. “You just don’t know when to quit, do you?”
This time she couldn’t hide her smile. For all his fierceness, he was holding her against him, cradling her, as if determined to keep her near him. Safe. “Apparently not,” she said softly. “So why don’t you stop yelling and shut me up?”
Cole looked down into eyes that were sparkling with challenge and … desire. His mouth was on hers before he gave it conscious thought. She moaned, and he tried to tell himself it was that soft noise that put him over the edge without a fight. But his tongue was deep inside her mouth by then and he stopped caring why or how he got there.
He pulled her closer, leaning back against the console and tugging her between his legs. She was sweet and wild and so damn hot he couldn’t have taken his mouth from hers if his life depended on it. He moved his hands down her back and pulled her hips even closer. He began to rock her gently against him as he managed to leave her lips for the soft curve of her neck. He felt a pressure against his chest and realized it was her hands, trapped between them, curling into fists.
He couldn’t stop the rumbling moan in his throat. Kira gasped, and his lips were on hers, catching her breath. He felt his control slowly dwindle with eac
h murmur she made. It was a shock to him just how badly he’d come to want her. He needed to feel her not-so-soft hands on his skin. In his hair. Raking down his back. Grabbing his hips. He needed her to touch him in a way he’d never needed to be touched. In a way he’d always needed to be touched. In that moment he wanted to give himself to her, trust her, body and soul.
P.J. chose that second to start a running string of clicks and whistles that even to Cole’s untrained, preoccupied ears sounded unnatural.
Kira tore herself from his arms but didn’t run to P.J. immediately. Both of them were breathing heavily, staring at each other. If his expression mirrored hers, which he was afraid it did, they both looked a bit awestruck. Her soft gaze slowly focused as she continued to stare at him. She wore her emotions so plainly, it was almost painful to him to observe the transformation. Insecurity, pain, fear, all rushed in to fill the momentary breach in his control. He wished she hadn’t sensed the barrier he’d crossed.
But she had.
P.J. began to squirm, and she finally looked away, going quickly to the restless dolphin. Cole ruthlessly shoved the whole matter from his mind as he turned back to the console. In quiet, efficient movements he went about securing the gear and pulling up the anchor. A few minutes later he started the engine and called over his shoulder, “All set back there?”
“He’s a bit shaken up, but he’ll travel all right, I think.”
A bit shaken up. If she were describing him, it would’ve been a gross understatement. Cole watched for a moment as she switched on a small battery-powered lamp and aimed it at the dolphin’s shiny gray body. She doused P.J. with water from a large sponge, crooning softly to him. Damn, but that soft voice sounded good floating through the night air.
Cole had forced his attention back to the engine when her voice stopped him cold.
“Will Reese be all right?”
Cole stiffened. “Why shouldn’t he be? He said the mission was accomplished, didn’t he?” Cole knew he sounded unnecessarily harsh. He was getting real tired of hearing Reese’s name on her lips.