His Captivating Confidante (Secret Sentinels) (16 page)

“So wet,” he murmured. “So hot. Do you still want to swim, Kitten?”

“Maybe later,” she breathed.

Sweeping her up into his arms, he carried her to shelter of the dunes. The inky blackness of the night enshrouded them. Eager to touch and be touched, she let the sensations ebb and flow, washing over her.

His fingers roved from her ankle upward, tracing teasing circles everywhere they travelled.

His touch was pushing her past the edge of reason. The feel of that electrifying, all-consuming connection had her throbbing with need.

He stripped off his clothing, and her restless hands roved over his body, exploring the silk-over-steel landscape of his broad shoulders and muscular chest before journeying lower. Encircling his length, she stroked him boldly.

He groaned low in his throat. Delighted at the obvious effect she had on him, she smiled in satisfaction. “It seems I may have found the hidden treasure on this island.
X
marks the spot?” she queried in mock innocence.

Raw emotion flashed across his handsome features as he dispensed with her bikini bottom. His hot gaze swept over her reverently. Worshipfully.

“Gorgeous,” he breathed.

“Make love to me, Frank,” she begged, not caring if the plea sounded urgent. Demanding. She
had
to have him.

She was dimly aware of him shifting away for a moment; the rustling of foil telling her he’d grabbed protection. A heartbeat later, he was back at her side.

“
X
marks the spot you said, Ms. Knight?”

“Umm hmm,” she groaned, quivering under his touch as his fingers did wicked things to the territory in question.

And then he was towering over her, his gaze filled with hunger and something else—a vulnerability that took her by surprise. He was always tough and in control. She never thought she’d see him so exposed. Especially not because of her.

With one smooth thrust he filled her. Her body convulsed at the sheer pleasure of their merging. The look in his eyes told her he felt the depth of the connection between them, too. This
had
to mean more to him than merely satiating a physical need, even if he wasn’t willing to admit it.

The passion flowing between them matched the intense ebb and flow of the powerful ocean waters. Her eager moans were drowned out by the crash of the waves against the nearby cliffs. And then pleasure eclipsed everything else as he sent her spiraling over the edge.

“You’re not supposed to be an expert at this so soon,” he grinned, reaching up to tenderly stroke her face.

“Research,” she told him matter-of-factly.

Wrapped in Frank’s arms, with the glow of fireflies lighting the purple dusk and the sky draped in a gown of sparkly stars, she thought nothing could be more perfect.

“You’re smiling,” he drawled.

“Because I’m incredibly happy. Happier than I’ve ever been in my entire life.”

Because of you
, she wanted to add. But that would be going too far, and he’d certainly withdraw from her. This precious time would end. She knew it couldn’t last forever, but she wanted to hoard every incredible second of it for as long as she could.

“I’ll make a campfire and grab our dinner,” he told her.

Soon they were seated by the leaping, crackling flames, enjoying the picnic Damon’s chef had packed for them. There were buttery rolls, a selection of olives and cheeses, crispy fried chicken, potato salad, and a decadently rich chocolate torte.

Later they made love again under the canopy of stars, with just the balmy evening air for a blanket.

Lulled by the soft whispering of the waves and a full stomach, she lay in the shelter of his arms and slept.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Frank woke her just as dawn was breaking, and they made the return trip to Damon’s estate.

Back at the guesthouse, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror as they walked past. Her hair was windswept and her skin had been kissed by the sun, but the glow she wore had nothing to do with the elements.

It was the glow of a woman in love. The glow of a woman whose dreams had come true.

But Frank had made it clear that he wasn’t in this for the long haul, so she needed to keep her heart in check.

There was something else she needed to do—she had to tell him the truth about why she’d allowed him to tag along on her assignment. It was time to be honest with him. The fantasy she was living was only temporary, but if she didn’t want it to come tumbling down prematurely she had to tell him what Liz had asked her to do.

Summoning her courage, she decided there was no time like the present. “There’s something I need to tell you. I was going to talk to you about it earlier, before you sprung the kayaking adventure on me and I got . . . distracted. I didn’t want to spoil things last night by bringing it up, but it can’t wait any longer.”

He raised an eyebrow at her proclamation. “Sounds serious. Go on. I’m listening.”

“I wasn’t completely honest with you about my motivation for agreeing to let you come along on this trip. Actually, the reason I agreed to loop you in on this mission is because Liz asked me to. She told me there was a second shooter on the scene the night of the ambush. She was concerned you might be the target of a separate attack, and she was worried you weren’t taking the possibility you could be in danger seriously. She thought having you spend time here, on Damon’s island where security isn’t an issue, would be a good way to get you away from the thick of the action for a while.”

He cursed softly under his breath, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I can’t believe Liz took it upon herself to do that. I don’t need anyone to keep an eye on me. I’m a former CIA operative. I can take care of myself. The reason I didn’t tell you about the other shooter is because I wanted to keep you out of this mess, not drag you into it. She shouldn’t have meddled like that.”

“Liz wasn’t meddling. She was concerned about you. You’re recovering from a serious bullet wound, and you’re not supposed to fire a weapon until your shoulder heals. You’ve brushed off the threat as insignificant when there’s every possibility it’s anything
but
that. I’m here to help, but I’m sorry for not being up front with you. Do you forgive me?”

“Of course I do,” he sighed. “I’m not angry with you. That doesn’t mean I’m happy about it, but I understand why you did what you did.”

“I’m glad,” she told him with a grateful smile. “So what’s next?”

“After you hack into Damon’s computer files tonight to retrieve a copy of his client list, I’ll review it to see if there are any names that stand out. Hopefully we’ll find a thread that will lead us down a more productive path.”

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

After a busy day putting the finishing touches on the library project, Stephanie headed back to the guesthouse to get ready for Damon’s dinner party. Guests had begun arriving by ferry, and there was a flurry of activity around the mansion.

When she emerged from her bedroom, having changed into the lovely gown Larissa had chosen for her, Frank was just shrugging into his tuxedo jacket. He was so strikingly handsome she just stood and stared for a moment. But she couldn’t let the attraction she felt for him blur her focus. She needed to be on top of her game.

Remember the task at hand
, she silently scolded herself.
Less drooling, more action.

Catching sight of her, Frank whistled in appreciation. A tiny part of her had hoped the dress would knock his socks off—if the expression on his face was any indication, it had.

“You look stunning,” he raved, gathering her into his arms. “I think we should just stay in tonight and skip the dinner altogether. I want to keep you all to myself.”

Her cheeks flushed as she glimpsed the passion burning in his gaze. “That sounds far more interesting than dinner with a bunch of dignitaries I don’t know, but I have a job to do tonight, remember?”

“I wish I could handle this for you, but hacking isn’t my strong suit.”

“Don’t look so worried. Everything is going to be fine. I’ve done this before. There’s nothing to it.”

“Your idea of fine and mine are two entirely different concepts. Fine, in my book, is keeping you a thousand miles away from Damon Landers.”

“Coddle alert,” she warned, teasingly. “Let’s go. It’s time to party.”

Damon’s events drew the crème de la crème of the rich and famous. The theme of the meal was Italian, and the chef had outdone himself. He serving up a zesty panzanella salad along with delectable main dishes of spaghetti carbonara, and mushroom-and-spinach lasagna. Dessert was a rich
zuppa inglese
.

When after-dinner coffee and drinks were served, Stephanie excused herself, pleading a headache.

Frank rose from his chair when she stood up from the table, carrying out his part in the plan they’d orchestrated. “I’ll walk you back to the guesthouse.”

“There’s no need,” she smiled, waving off his concern. “I’m fine. I just need to lie down for a while. Stay and enjoy your coffee.”

After thanking Damon for his hospitality and wishing him and his guests a good night, she departed the dining room. She headed in the direction of the guesthouse, but as soon as she was satisfied that Damon’s staff were too busy seeing to the needs of his guests to pay any attention to what she was doing, she made a beeline for his study.

The door was locked, but she quickly picked her way into the room. Leaving the lights off so as not to attract attention, she booted up his laptop and began hacking into the system. Locating his client list, she downloaded the document onto a jump drive and stashed it in her purse before shutting the computer down.

Easy peasy. Maybe too easy.

Her classmates at the training academy teased her about her ability to sense squirrely situations before anyone else in the class, jokingly referring to it as her “Spidey sense.” That mysterious intuition had just roared into overdrive. Something definitely was off.

Seconds later the echo of footsteps sounded in the hall, confirming her suspicion. She carefully closed the laptop and backed up, flat against the wall. There was another door on the wall, but she tried it and found it was locked. She decided if the footsteps came any closer she’d exit through the window.

Suddenly, the door behind her opened and a figure shrouded in darkness grabbed her. His hand covered her mouth, muffling her surprised cry. Struggling against the arms wrapped like steel bands around her upper body, she tried to kick out at her captor, but he blocked the blow and dragged her into the next room.

“Going on a treasure hunt?” he asked, his deep voice laced with sardonic amusement.

She knew that voice.
Damon.

With the click of a switch, the room was instantly bathed in soft light and Stephanie’s assumption that Damon had been the one to whisk her out of the office was confirmed. She found herself standing in the middle of his bedroom suite, frozen in shock.

“
Ssh
. It’s okay,” he murmured reassuringly. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here to help. I’m going to take my hand away from your mouth, but don’t even think about screaming. It could cost us both our necks if you do.”

Damon had caught her with her hands in the proverbial cookie jar, but he didn’t sound surprised or angry. He addressed her in a tone of voice that was gently soothing. Slipping his hand away, he released his hold on her.

“I . . . what . . .” she began, stammering in confusion.

Placing a finger against his lips, Damon shook his head. “I need to go and make an excuse for why the silent alarm was tripped,” he whispered as the sound of voices coming from his office filtered out to them. He stepped away from her, meeting her gaze with calm assuredness. “Stay here, and I’ll be back in a moment to explain. Whatever you do, don’t leave this room.”

When Damon stepped out of the suite, she pressed her ear up to the connecting door. She could hear him talking to his men, explaining that he’d gone to his office to collect a brochure for one of his guests and in his haste had forgotten to key in the security code. To her immense relief, they bought the excuse, ribbing him about his oversight.

True to his word, Damon reappeared a few moments later. “I’m sorry I pounced on you like that. I didn’t have a choice. I had to get you out of my office before my security team found you in there. If they had, they would have expected me to deal with you. I know why you’re here—it has nothing to do with books.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she refuted.

“That’s a very convincing denial,” he murmured. “Sentinels has trained you well. You can relax, though. We’re on the same side.”

She arched an eyebrow, regarding him skeptically. “Care to elaborate?”

Loosening his tie, he shrugged out of his suit jacket. “I’m with the DEA. So is Vanessa. We’ve been undercover for the past two years, working our way up the seniority chain in Ivan Henderson’s organization. He’s involved in the Mafia, and we’re building a case against him.” He held his thumb and index fingers a hair’s breadth from each other. “We’re this close to bringing him down. If my men had caught you breaking into my office, I would have had to take action. As one of Henderson’s associates, they expect me to make any threats to his business dealings . . . disappear. You understand what I’m getting at, right?”

She nodded grimly.

“Earlier this week, they discovered my office’s computer system had been compromised. Tracking software indicated the breach came from this IP address, so they installed a silent alarm to alert them if another attempt was made. The alarm is triggered anytime someone enters my office.”

“I didn’t see a keypad for a security system.”

“You wouldn’t have. It’s hidden under the painting just outside the door. When I saw you leave the dinner table, I had a good idea what you were up to. Before I could make an excuse and break away from my guests to follow you, you’d already broken into my office. I keyed the disarm code in as soon as I got here, but unfortunately my security team had already been alerted.”

“How did you figure out I’m an operative?”