Seducing the Accomplice (13 page)

She kissed him with airy brushes of her tongue until he began thrusting with his hips. She let her weight work for her, putting her hands on his shoulders for leverage. He had his hands on her hips, moving her with the thrusts, finding that place deep inside her. She was already building and cried out his name an instant before he moaned with his own release.

Afterward, she relaxed against him, wondering if she’d made a mistake letting go as much as she had. He seemed conflicted with the same thoughts as he continued to hold her close.

The timer on the bubbles stopped.

Sadie leaned back and found his eyes. His were a reflection of her confusion, a jumble of intense infatuation and fear.

Without saying anything or waiting for him to, she climbed out of the tub on the opposite side from the broken wine glasses and wrapped a towel around her, aware of him doing the same.

He picked up their suits and she headed for the master bedroom. When she reached it, she turned to shut the door, but Calan was right behind her.

“What are you doing?”

“You don’t think I’m sleeping alone after that, do you?”

It warmed her immeasurably.

Leaving the door open, he let his towel drop and headed for the shower. Sadie dropped hers and followed.

He already had the water running and she admired his ass as he stepped into the tub. She pulled the curtains closed as she stepped in behind him, watching him tip his head back under the spray, his eyes closed.

She took advantage of his preoccupation to take in his magnificent body. He grinned when he opened his eyes and caught her. Smiling, she took her turn under the water while he soaped up and shampooed his hair. His hands got her soapy as he touched her when they switched positions, he rinsing while she soaped her own body and washed her hair.

He waited for her to rinse. She could feel him looking at her. It made her smile again when she caught him. Turning off the water, they got out and dried.

Sadie toweled her hair and ran a brush through it. When she emerged from the bathroom, she saw Calan drawing the covers back on the bed. This felt so domesticated, like they’d done it night after night for a long time. A real couple. One who was comfortable together.

She passed him on the way to the bed, catching sight of him hanging free and growing longer and thicker. She met his eyes with a smile before crawling onto the bed. His hands on her hips stopped her from going farther. She looked over her shoulder at him, but his attention was on other regions of her body. He urged her to move back, so she did.

With her knees on the edge of the bed and him standing behind her, he slid inside, slick and hard. Her range of movement was limited so she let him do most of the work. She wanted to see him but she couldn’t. She had only the sensation of him pushing back and forth. He began slowly, a smooth, consistent mating, but then she heard his harsher breaths and then he moved faster, pushing harder.

Sensation swept over Sadie. She closed her eyes and just felt, until her entire body was consumed in a shuddering release. She called out his name over and over.

“Yes.” She heard his gruff voice and felt him pulsing.

The fiery moment cooled and Sadie wasn’t sure she was comfortable with the animal way they’d just had sex. It was the same at the villa. Calan seemed to sense that because he slid out of her and lay on the bed, opening his arm to her.

She curled next to him, forgetting her worries and not allowing herself to think about what would happen after they reached the U.S. If they reached it…

Sadie woke to bright sunlight streaming through open blinds. The white comforter was rumpled and she was alone on the bed, her backside exposed. Rolling onto her back, she let memories float into her mind and bathe her heart with euphoria.

Sometime during the night he’d awakened her, rolling on top of her and pushing her legs apart while he entered her. He hadn’t asked, he’d taken, and she’d eaten up his tender aggression. It hadn’t felt merely physical. His urgency had reached her. The resulting orgasm was the strongest she’d ever had, coming apart while he looked into her eyes and made love to her. Made love. She could think of no other label for it.

Had she dreamed that? No. But the way they were together was almost incomprehensible. How was this happening to her? How was this man making her feel so much for him in such a short amount of time? She wanted to stay like this forever. She wanted to stay with Calan forever.

The lovely euphoria died away and despondence took its place. She couldn’t have him forever. She couldn’t have him beyond her time with him now. If they survived.

Was it all the adrenaline she’d endured lately? Maybe the need for release had been so great that she was confusing real feelings with a basic need for serenity. Either way, it wasn’t smart for her to continue along this path.

Tossing the covers aside, she sat up. The cabin door was shut, but she heard voices coming from the main-deck salon. Calan’s team must have arrived.

She wasn’t in the mood to be around anyone. She’d rather be alone and sort out her feelings, which were getting too big for her after last night. Best if she left now, before Calan hurt her any more than he already had by making love with her like that. So gritty. And so many times.

Crawling off the bed, she stood and went to the window, where she saw a forest of sailboat masts and motor yachts. They’d reached the Bari Darsena Vecchia Marina.

Going to the door, she listened to the voices.

“Killing a man like Dervishi isn’t going to make this go away,” a man’s voice she didn’t recognize said.

“Not even if we made sure he got his money back,” another man said.

“I agree,” she heard Calan say. “We have to try another tactic. Find something on him. Reason with him that way.”

“Yeah. Speak his language. You leave me alone, I’ll leave you alone,” the first man said. “We come to an understanding with him.”

“Still might have to return the money,” yet another man’s voice said.

“Not if it’s going to be used for terrorism,” Calan said. He was emphatic. Of course he would be, with his past.

Sighing, Sadie left the door and went into the bathroom. She took her time showering, dreading facing Calan if he didn’t feel the same as her. How sweet it would be if they had real potential. But that’s not what the future had in store for her. And it was time to do something about that. Stand up for herself. Take matters into her own hands.

After drying her hair, she dressed in jean shorts and a white sleeveless top that hung just past her waist. Leaving her face bare of makeup, she grabbed her sunglasses and went to the cabin door. There, she paused to prepare herself before leaving the room.

Emerging into the openness of the galley and salon, two men sat on the sofa and two more stood near Calan. One of the men on the sofa had a huge duffel bag on the coffee table and he was sifting through its contents as if itemizing them. He lifted a pair of handcuffs and showed them to the man beside him with a grin. The other man shook his head in light derision and then saw her.

The rest of them noticed her at the same time. The man on the sofa dropped the handcuffs into the bag and sat back against the sofa. All of them were big, two of them huge. She felt like she’d just walked onto the set of
Ocean’s Thirteen
, with a young George Clooney and a hairy Andy Garcia sitting on the sofa, and a Matt Damon and a Brad Pitt standing by Calan. They were dressed like tourists in Hawaiian and solid pastel shirts and jeans. The only thing giving them away were their tactical boots. She didn’t have to see them bare-chested to know they were all armed. And each had on an earpiece.

“Sadie,” Calan greeted. The intimacy of his eyes didn’t match his voice. He was trying to hide their relationship. All business.

It made her stiffen. She’d expected his withdrawal, but she couldn’t stop the pain.

He gestured toward George Clooney on the sofa. “This is Reed Marshal.” He was George to her from now on. “Owen Rourke.” She nodded her greeting to the one next to him. “Eamon Dunne.” She shook Matt Damon’s hand. “And Merrick Hamilton.” She shook the Brad Pitt lookalike’s hand.

“Nice to meet you,” she said. “So, which one of you is the ex-spy?”

A momentary silence stretched.

“That would be Eamon,” Calan said.

“Is that your real name?” she asked Eamon. It wasn’t very common and had a hint of femininity to it, although the man was anything but feminine. He was a bigger version of Matt Damon and had facial features that made him seem more intense.

“My mother named me after her father, who was Irish.”

His dark hair and green eyes held traces of his ancestry.

“Everyone calls me M.”

“Just M?”

He left it at that and Sadie figured she better not push.

“I’ll go get us ready to leave,” George said.

A flash of panic hit Sadie. “Already? Aren’t we going to stay awhile?” Too late, she realized how transparent she was.

Calan frowned at her as though he’d hoped he wasn’t going to be right about her and she’d just proven him wrong.

“I’ll help you.” Merrick followed George out the double-glass doors leading to the aft deck and disappeared.

“I’ll move the money to the other boat,” M said, and only then did Sadie notice the big suitcase near the sliding glass door. M picked up the handle and dragged it on its wheels onto the aft deck. Owen followed him.

And now Sadie was alone with Calan.

“Like you, M knows what it’s like to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

There had to be a reason he was telling her this, and it didn’t take her long to guess. “He’s here because he wants to be here.”

“Yes, but there was a time when that wasn’t the case.”

“Well, then we do have something in common. What happened to him?”

“That’s not important. What’s important is you accept your circumstances until it’s safe to send you home.”

She didn’t want to argue about that anymore. “Why are you moving the money?”

“We can’t take it with us.”

“What are you going to do?” Now that he had a team…

“Convince Dervishi he’s better off not picking a fight with us.”

“You really think that’s possible?” Was TES that influential?

“There are ways.”

Maybe, but Sadie didn’t like thinking about them. Sighing her frustration, she turned and left the salon. Outside, she gripped the foredeck rail, longing to be on land right now.

She spotted M on his way back and watched him climb aboard without so much as a nod of acknowledgment. She looked toward the dock again. M reappeared, this time with Calan, and the two began loosening the moorings. As soon as they finished, Calan looked up at the flybridge and gave a thumbs up to George. Moments later, the yacht began to move. Bari slipped into the distance along with her dwindling spirit.

“Get below deck.”

Sadie looked up at M from where she reclined on one of the foredeck lounge chairs, not understanding why he’d said that. Demanded, more like. He’d been navigating the yacht for the past hour or so.

He looked down at her. “Now.”

Hearing the sound of another boat approaching, she turned to see a yacht headed toward them.

“We’ve got company,” M said.

Sadie wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or the rest of the team through his covert radio, but she left the flybridge and went down to the main deck. The other yacht was drawing closer, and she could see several armed men aboard.

She wasn’t one to swear, but she did now.

Just then, Calan grabbed her wrist and hauled her with him into the salon and back to the master suite. “Stay here.”

He left and shut the door.

Sadie went to the window and looked out. She couldn’t see the other yacht from here, but she did hear a volley of gunfire cracking the air.

“I am sure getting tired of this,” she muttered and scanned the room for a weapon. Opening her travel bag, she dug around until her hands came against the cool metal of the gun Calan had taught her how to shoot. She pulled it out and stared at it. Could she really fire this thing at another person? Pulling the slide back to make sure the chamber was loaded, she was about to go back to the window when a huge explosion accompanied a violent lurch of the yacht.

Losing her footing, she dropped the gun as she fell. Thrown against the wall near the bathroom, it took her a second or two to orient herself. Sitting up against the wall while the yacht pitched, she looked around for the gun. It had slid into the bathroom. She crawled there and picked it up, using the vanity to pull herself to her feet.

Another explosion hurled her against the bathroom doorjamb. Pain shot through her arm and she cried out. The yacht began to pitch toward the stern. Hanging onto the doorjamb, Sadie let go and let gravity help her toward the room exit. There, she opened the door and stepped into the hall. A roaring sound grew louder as she approached the salon. Reaching the room, fighting the rocking angle of the boat, she peered down the stairs leading below deck and chills of fear froze her for a second. Water. Rushing water. A rapidly deepening river of seawater was flooding the boat.

Sinking it.

And fast. They didn’t have much time.

Spinning around, she bumped into Calan. He had both their duffel bags slung over one shoulder. Taking hold of her arms, he glanced down at the gun and then back at her face.

“We’re sinking,” she said up into his face.

“I know. We have to get into the lifeboat.”

“What?” Her bloodless face felt cold. She understood they had to get off the yacht, but… “They’re shooting at us!”

“I know.” He took hold of her arm and helped her toward the glass door. “They won’t kill us. They want the money, remember?”

“Why sink the boat then? What if the money was on board?”

“They know we wouldn’t be that stupid.”

Yes, Calan had a
team
now, but still. “They don’t need all of us to make one of us talk.” She squinted beneath bright sunlight and craned her neck to see the other boat. She caught a glimpse of several men on the main deck, holding automatic weapons.