Riptide (10 page)

“Good man.” His head steward was on the ball and had thought ahead to what Bria might need. Even before Nick knew she’d be on board for a few more days.

They kept odds and ends of clothing in the storeroom for just this reason—when a guest found themselves light on luggage. Most of the collection was swimwear, but he presumed there’d be other items of clothing left behind by the occasional female guest.

After the men left, Nick locked and bolted the main door, then went through to his suite. A single light burned beside the large comfortable chair by the window, leaving the rest of the cabin in shadow.

The princess was curled up on the easy chair, head bent at an uncomfortable angle. She’d scavenged the
MENSA International Journal
off his nightstand, and it was spread open on her lap.

Nick felt a strange twist of emotions as he looked down at her. He couldn’t leave her like that, and the fact that she’d put him in the position of having to touch her was annoying. Slipping his arms under her, he shifted her so her body naturally rolled into his arms and against his chest. Been here done this, he thought, trying not to inhale the intoxicating fragrance of her skin as he carried her to his bed.

She’d showered, and her hair was still a little damp and smelled like his shampoo. But not. On her it was sensual; on him, it was clean. Hell. The feel of her in his arms had given him an erection the moment he’d touched her. More likely it had never gone away.

Obviously she had no intention of seducing him, or she wouldn’t have gotten dressed. There was a white toweling robe behind the bathroom door that he’d never worn that would have looked dynamite against her tawny skin …

No. She was smarter than that. Stripping would be too overt. Too obvious.

Christ … she was good.

Or was he paranoid?

The covers on his side had been thrown back as if a princess had slept restlessly, then gotten out of bed. Nick lowered her carefully to the crumpled white sheets. She mumbled in her sleep as he straightened her legs. He considered removing her jeans so she’d be more comfortable. Decided he was insane and opted for her being uncomfortable, and him being comfortable not having to share a bed with a semi-naked siren.

She was hard enough to resist when she was wide awake and fully clothed.

Crossing the room he turned off the lamp, plunging the cabin into predawn darkness before going back to the bed. Toeing off his shoes, he lay down on the wrong side. It was a huge bed, with plenty of room to leave a wide gap between them, but tonight it felt too damned small. Stacking his hands under his head, Nick stared up at the canopy of fading stars beyond the octagonal skylight as the sky gradually lightened to pewter.

He closed his eyes and forced his breathing to become slow and even as he concentrated on falling asleep. He didn’t need much—a couple of hours would suffice, but he needed at least that to be in top form.

Just as he was drifting off in a hazy relaxed state, she rolled over against him, flinging an arm across his chest. His breathing snagged as her nose nuzzled against his arm. His eyes snapped open. Hell.

Trouble.

Warm breath tickled his skin, cool silky, peach-scented hair slid over his arm, and his entire body participated in the feel and smell of her. Every muscle tensed as he tried to extricate himself from her light but invasive hold.

He knew she wasn’t asleep. Her breathing had changed, the relaxed state of her body wasn’t quite as relaxed as it had been moments before. Did she have no boundaries? Yeah, they were both fully clothed, but they were still prone, and in his bed. Strangers.

Cat and mouse?

“Hi,” she said softly.

Nick glanced down to see her sleepy eyes looking up at him through a tangle of silky black hair. His heart did a triple axel. “I thought you were asleep.” A man could hope. He found himself fingering a silken strand that clung to his fingers when he tried to release it. Static cling.

“I am.” She scooted up a little higher so the crown of her head brushed his chin. “Did he tell you why he did it?”

Nick hesitated. No need to tell her—yet—that Halkias had escaped and was still missing. “Not yet.”

“He will. Just freeze him with your eyes.”

He’d heard that before. Didn’t bother him any. His brothers had good reason to call him Spock. Emotions were messy, and inconvenient. “Did King Draven send you to me, Bria?”

“God, no. He’s not going to be happy I’m here at all. But I have to do something.”

She sounded sleepy and sincere, which made her good at what she did, not necessarily honest. “Did he use your money to invest with my company?” If her brother had stolen what she believed to be hers, she’d want the money back. And he’d have to find a way to give it to her. God. Was he grasping at straws? Hoping like hell her story was the truth?

Her version of the truth anyway.

Her laughter curled around him like sunlight. “I’ve been unemployed for almost a year, I don’t have any money. He only went back to Marrezo two years ago. Contrary to what Draven wants the world to think, our country is in deep shit right now. In fact, if there’s a layer below deep shit, that would about sum up the situation.” She sighed sleepily, and her breath tickled his throat.

Goose bumps rippled down his arms. “When Draven went back to claim the throne, there was no industry; the vineyards, after twenty years, were a complete mess, so no wine. Nothing left. It’s been dire. He managed to get a short-term loan, but that’s due in thirty days. Not,” Bria said bitterly, “that he told me any of this. He left that to our cousin Antonio to do.”

“He didn’t indicate to Logan that he was having financial difficulties, Bria. Are you sure?”

“Positive.” She yawned. “Who’s Logan?”

“My older brother. He’s CFO of Cutter Salvage.” At the moment, anyway. The Cutter brothers maintained a standing bet: whomever hauled in the greatest find would get to be CFO until the next biggest find came along.

Nick didn’t want to win it. He never did. He left the paperwork to his brothers and let them duke it out.

“He and your brother struck the investment deal a year ago,” he added. “Logan is savvy as hell, he didn’t get the impression this was a last-ditch effort to repay a banknote or anything else. Logan is a bloodhound when it comes to financial backgrounds, Bria, something would have popped up.”

“Obviously Draven wouldn’t want anyone to know he was on the brink of bankruptcy. Worse than that, even.” Her soft breast brushed his arm as she shifted slightly. “I guess he thought the salvage would pay off in time.”

“What happens if the loan isn’t repaid?”

“Marrezo reverts back to Italy.

“Not the bank?”

“In this case, Italy
is
the bank,” Bria told him. “If we default on the loan—” She huffed out a frustrated breath, which drew his attention to her breasts. Nick forced himself to maintain eye contact. But her darkly troubled, big brown eyes were a distraction too.

“With a blooded Visconti on the throne, we’ve got rights, but only barely. We’ve always had to pay a tithe to Italy anyway, but add a gigantic loan on top of that?” She shook her head.

“But that tithe wasn’t paid for twenty years between the time you left, and your brother went back, was it?”

“Yes, it was. Sort of an automatic withdrawal went into effect. But that fund was depleted by the time Draven got back. Marrezo was in arrears. He secured the loan…” She spread her elegant, expressive hands. “And here we are.”

Yeah. And here they were. Both of them wanting something they weren’t going to get.

“Like colonialism, but at least we get to do our own thing until we fail to pay. It’s a centuries-old agreement, but valid. I checked.”

“Would that be so bad?”

“Would it be so bad if America reverted to the Indians? Or England, maybe?” she asked rhetorically. “There are families who’ve lived on the island for twenty-five generations, Nick. There’s been a King Draven Visconti for five hundred years. So, yes. It’s important that the continuity of the country be maintained.”

Nick shifted uncomfortably under both the silken weight of her body and the new information she had given him. “Even if I wanted to, I can’t return your brother’s investment,” he told her, not for the first time. “It, combined with the financial backing of our other investors, was used to purchase equipment and hire specialized personnel. Until the treasure from
El Puerto
is processed, nobody gets a piece of the pie, because there isn’t any.”

She was silent for a moment. Then, softly, she began, “Couldn’t you—”

“Nobody,” he told her emphatically, closing the conversation cold. There was more riding on this salvage job than just the salvage and the financial windfall that would come down the road. Aries had told him emphatically, and in no uncertain terms, that nothing could be allowed to jeopardize the safe transportation of the diamonds to Cutter Cay, so they could follow the trail and close it for good.

The value of the diamonds could be counted in the millions of dollars, which was nothing compared to the devaluing of legal diamonds through the United States and South America if this smuggling and laundering operation wasn’t stopped.

Thousands died in the bloody diamond trade and thousands more would die if the counterterrorist group didn’t put a stop to one of the largest smugglers of conflict diamonds in Africa. The same people who were selling weapons bought from the purchase of the diamonds to warring factions in Africa. Hence the name blood or conflict diamonds.

He hated to draw a comparison, even in his own mind, but the stakes were a hell of a lot higher for the diamonds than the itty-bitty country whose fallback was Italian sovereignty.

Bria’s breasts rose and fell against his arm as she sighed, the sound of resignation. “It was worth a shot,” she murmured, then fell silent.

Nick listened to her breathe, but he knew she wasn’t going back to sleep. He counted her breaths, counted the pulse of blood in his jeans, and bided his time.

Finally, she stirred. “Fine. I’ll go home and hope to God my cousin can help Draven work out the financial problems. I don’t want to take you away from your diving. I’ll just contact the charter company and have them send another pilot out to pick me up. Maybe they will be able to send someone tomorrow. Besides, I paid both ways. The pilot had no right to leave me stranded.”

“We can discuss it later.” She wasn’t going anywhere until he got the green light from Aries. “Maybe you’d like to hang around and see what a dive entails.”

No good deed goes unpunished. He was damned if he did, and damned if he didn’t.

“Yes. Maybe…”

His fingers absently combed through her damp hair, teasing the scent of sun-drenched peaches and his own mint soap from the silken strands, and he changed the absent to intentionally.
Let’s see just how far you’ll run with this, Princess.

She licked her lips, more nerves than seduction, but it had the same effect on his already aroused body. He turned toward her, knowing he was playing a dangerous game, but here in the semidarkness, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

He touched his finger to her chin until she tilted her face up, and met his eyes. “Did you pleasure yourself in my shower, Princess?”

Her cheeks got sweetly flushed. “No.”

But he could see she’d thought about it. “Did you do the naughty in my bed?”

She looked him right in the eye, and murmured huskily, “Of course not.”

“Liar.”

She drew in a thin breath, and her lips parted to say … something.

Perfect.

Nick fisted her hair and crushed his mouth down on hers.

*   *   *

Bria closed her eyes and kissed him back with everything she had. The desire to taste him was all-encompassing, and she didn’t even think about resisting. She’d burned all day wanting to know if Nick Cutter melted, or stayed icy.

He went from frigid to a rolling boil between one swipe of his tongue and the next.

The hard ridge of his impressive erection nudged her hip. They were both fully clothed, and having him so near and yet so far was frustrating, maddingly so. Bria wanted to feel skin on skin. She wanted him to touch her intimately. She wanted her hands and mouth on his body—everywhere.

Lord. She wanted
his
mouth on
her
everywhere.

Maintaining the kiss, she rolled on top of him. He spread his legs, cradling her body hard against him, then curved his large hands around her jean-covered bottom to press her against the ridged length between them.

She kissed him ravenously, nothing held back—a first for her. In response, his fingers tightened on her butt. Heat swept through her at every point of contact. She jerked her lips from his, panting, gasping for air. He pulled her head back down to his.

Breathing was overrated.

She touched his face as his mouth slanted over hers. He used his teeth. She nibbled back. His tongue swept the roof of her mouth, she waited her turn impatiently. He pushed all her buttons and she reveled in it. His hard chest felt wonderful pressed against the softness of her breasts. Her nipples were painfully hard, and she rubbed herself against him like a cat in heat.

He murmured low in his throat, and slid his fingers down the back of her jeans.

She never had been able to resist playing with fire. Her childhood nickname had been
Fiammetta,
fiery one. For temper more than temperament at that age. But she’d always been hot-blooded and curious. And she didn’t resist the temptation. Tightening her arm across his chest, she fisted her fingers in his shirt.

The kiss was raw. Powerful. A riptide that dragged her under without a struggle.

Impulse had let her forget she was horizontal in the man’s bed. The instant his firm lips touched hers, she knew she was out of her league. Way out.

I’m in deep, deep trouble here,
she thought as her brain went hazy and her heartbeat spiked into the stratosphere. Oh, my God. The man could kiss.

This was no first kiss, no subtle invitation, nothing as polite as a tentative exploration between two strangers. No. This was shockingly hot, wet, and dizzyingly carnal. Nerves sizzled the instant their lips met. She breathed in his breath, tasted greed in the lavish use of his tongue and teeth. He nipped her lower lip, then laved it with his tongue before sweeping it into her mouth again.