In Too Deep Page 5

  Silence pulsed. She didn't move. "I-I have a bit of a phobia about the dark."

  Yeah. He'd noticed. How to use the knowledge to his advantage? "You could always come in here with me," he offered lightly. "I'll keep the boogeyman away."

  She gave a small hiccuping laugh. "I'm not all that sure you aren't the boogeyman." But she didn't retreat shrieking in protest.

  Michael patted the mattress. "Come on. It's a king-size. I'll stay on my side, if you behave yourself and stay on yours."

  "This is probably not a good idea," she said in a husky little voice, taking the first step into his web.

  "We're both adults. I'm not going to ravish you. We both need to get some sleep. If having company facilitates that, then go for it."

  She padded over, bumped her legs on the foot of the bed, and felt her way around to the other side. Michael considered throwing the sheet over his nakedness, then decided not to. It was obvious she had lousy night vision.

  The mattress depressed as she sat down, then swung her legs up. She lay flat. He almost expected her to cross her hands over her breasts like a Victorian maiden. Instead, she surprised him by rolling onto her side and facing him. "Thanks."

  "No problem. Do you usually sleep with the lights on?"

  "Pretty much." She was quiet for a moment. "I know it's silly. I just hate the dark. I normally have a night-light. As long as it's not pitch-dark, I'm okay."

  "Some traumatic event in your past?"

  "Not that I remember."

  "Some traumatic event in your future?"

  She gave a little laugh. "I don't think so."

  "Will you be able to sleep now?"

  "Hopefully. Thanks."

  "No problem. 'Night."

  '"Night."

  Michael stacked his hands under his head and stared at the ceiling until he heard the soft sound of her even breathing.

  Once, she'd known she was safe, she'd fallen asleep as quickly as a child.

  Which was laughable. Without knowing it, Tally Church Cruise had presented herself like a sacrificial lamb stretched right out on his king-size altar. That Michael was going to use her was a given. He just needed to decide how.

  Tally didn't usually remember her dreams, but even as she dreamed, she hoped she'd remember this one. The bed was incredibly soft, the darkness somehow comforting and not the least bit scary. Her back arched as a man's hand skimmed, soft as a whisper, across her naked breasts. The sensation was achingly familiar, as if she knew the man intimately.

  There was no doubt this was a dream. Tally hadn't had sex in so long, she frequently imagined her body parts closing up from disuse.

  Clever fingers found her nipples, pinching, rolling until the nubs felt engorged and tender. She moaned. It felt too good. His slightly rough hands were featherlight on her skin. He cupped each breast in turn, taunting her nipples until they ached.

  The mattress shifted as he redistributed his weight. Then his hot, wet mouth closed around an aching peak.

  Tally found her fingers tangled in the silk of his hair, holding his head against her breast. He sucked hard, drawing the nub into the furnace of his mouth. Tally cried out as sweet pain shot from her breast to her groin.

  She was wet with desire, aching with need. She shifted her legs restlessly. Wanting him inside her, but knowing the anticipation was more titillating than the actual consummation. Tight as a bowstring, Tally arched her upper body off the bed when he bit down lightly on her left breast. Oh. God.

  She grabbed his head and drew his face up to hers. The kiss was hot, out of control, a frantic mating of tongues and teeth.

  Too good, too real to be a dre—

  Chapter Four

  « ^ »

  Michael dragged his mouth away from hers. Tally moaned a complaint. "Is that a yes?" he demanded.

  She breathed in the scent of him. Man. Heat. Need. "Y-Yes."

  "Sure?"

  In answer, she pulled his head down, and kissed him again.

  Michael's knee nudged her legs apart as he slid over her; he rocked against the very heart of her desire, pushing inside the juicy opening of her body.

  And slipped inside like a homecoming.

  He was huge, rock hard, and moving the moment he sheathed himself. The sensation felt incredible. Unbearably aroused, Tally wrapped her arms around him. The muscles in his back were hard under satin-smooth skin. She reveled in the feel of him. Inside and out. Desire pure, sharp, and out of control made her arch her hips off the bed. He plunged all the way to her cervix, then withdrew. His mouth opened against her throat. He plunged again, sinking his teeth into her neck. Not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough to send a bolt of pure sensation directly to where they were joined. His large hands clamped under her bottom, drawing her tightly against him as his fingers spread her cheeks.

  "Wrap your legs around me," he demanded, breath hot against her sweat-dampened throat.

  He withdrew; Tally followed the movement, raising her bottom off the bed, wrapping her legs high around his waist, opening herself for his penetration. He plunged deep.

  The shocking intensity of her orgasm went on, and on, seeming to last forever. Tally's body trembled as each ripple of sensation ebbed and flowed, echoing back on each other, drawing out the pleasure until her mind blanked. Brilliant colors showered the darkness. Her arms tightened around him as the planet slipped off its axis.

  When she finally came back to reality, head hung off the foot of the bed, she was as limp as an overcooked noodle, and Michael was still deep inside her.

  "W—" Tally moistened dry lips, and tried again. "Wow. You're really good at that."

  "I'm a man of many talents." His voice came soft against her ear, his breath brushing her cheek, her throat.

  "How many talents?" she wanted to know. Just to be prepared, of course.

  "How much time have you got?"

  She smiled into the darkness. Hey, she didn't have a problem with his ego. Judging by what she'd just lived through, he wasn't bragging. "What happened to my clothes?"

  With his weight on his elbows, Michael moved his hip in a maddeningly slow glide in. Out. In. "Technically they were my clo—Jesus. Do that again."

  Tally contracted her PC muscle again, and had the satisfaction of hearing Michael groan. He withdrew, then pushed into her again. She was ready, her vagina tight and slick, as she pulsed around him. She relaxed the muscle until he was almost in to the hilt, then tightened it sharply. They groaned in unison as he pumped into her tight opening hard and fast.

  He came in a hard, shuddering rush, then collapsed on top of her.

  For several minutes the sound of their harsh breathing filled the darkness. Tally mustered enough energy to raise a heavy arm and stroke his sweaty face. Her fingers brushed his eye patch, but didn't linger. Poor, wounded warrior. She raised her head and pressed a soft kiss to the cool fabric of the patch. Michael captured her face between his broad palms and realigned her mouth downward.

  "I love a woman with good muscle control," he told her thickly before crushing his mouth down on hers.

  Tally demonstrated again just how controlled those muscles were. Michael groaned as he lifted his head. "Anything else you're afraid of?" he asked laconically, bracing some of his weight on his elbows.

  Too weak to move, Tally's legs fell open on either side of his narrow hips. She liked the weight of him pressing her into the mattress. He was still semi-hard inside her, and her muscles flexed spasmodically around his shaft. "Thank God, no. And if I'd come up with this cure years ago, I probably wouldn't be afraid of the dark anymore, either."

  She felt the brush of his hand against her sweat-dampened hair. "Not going to scream bloody murder because I took advantage of you while you slept?"

  "Sorry, you can't take all the credit. I was awake for most of it," Tally said dryly. "I can't exactly claim maidenly modesty when I climbed into bed with you in the first place, can I?" Actually, she was embarrassed, now that it was over. Embarrassed tha
t she'd been so uninhibited, embarrassed that she was lying, quite naked, beneath this stranger. For once, she was glad it was dark.

  She wasn't in love with the man. Didn't know him. Yet it was the best sex she'd ever had. And she'd had some pretty good sex. Okay, that had been at least five years ago. But she hadn't forgotten. Still, this had felt waaay better. Comparatively speaking.

  He began to move again, his thick shaft engorging impressively as he pumped inside her, keeping the pace maddeningly slow and even.

  "Geeezzz," she whispered on a half moan. "What kind of vitamins do you take?"

  "Strong enough for a woman, but made for a man," he said, and she heard the amusement in his voice.

  "Amen." Tally squeezed her eyes shut, stopped talking, and went with the flow. There'd be plenty of time tomorrow for self-analysis and recriminations.

  The sky was a clear, cerulean blue the next morning. The water calm and well-behaved. It was as though the storm had never been.

  Under normal circumstances Michael abhorred using women as pawns in his ops. But Tally Cruise had been dropped into his lap like manna from heaven.

  She was a bonus. And eventually a prisoner of war.

  Nothing, not even a soft-skinned, wary-eyed female, was going to stand between him and his objective.

  Nothing.

  Church was going to watch as Michael took away everything he held dear. Then the man was going to die.

  A surge of adrenaline supercharged him.

  He'd left nothing to chance; yet, like a good soldier, he knew how to incorporate unexpected diversions seamlessly into his plans.

  He guided the Nemesis through the deep channel in the reef and into Paradise harbor with consummate skill. Tally stood at the outside rail, shading her eyes with her hand.

  "Isn't the clarity, and color of the water amazing?" She hung over the rail giving him a delectable view of her butt. "Oh! I can see tiny, bright yellow fish darting about down there."

  Her short hair ruffled in the breeze, and her long legs were spaced apart for balance. His orange shorts flapped about her knees, and his much-washed white T-shirt effectively hid her small breasts. Her breasts were sensitive. The nipples quick to peak when he sucked them into his mouth—

  "Did you say something?" Tally turned to glance at him over her shoulder, oblivious to the havoc she'd caused.

  He'd groaned. The sound should've been him pounding his head against the deck. "Just concentrating as I navigate the reef."

  "Okay. Just ignore me as I oooh and ahhh. No wonder my father calls his island Paradise. The name might not be original, but it's appropriate. Look at it. It's breathtaking. I wish I were an artist." She babbled on as he eased through the channel toward the small marina. "Wouldn't it be amazing to be able to capture all the blues and greens on canvas?"

  "Take a picture."

  "I don't have my—a photograph isn't the same. It doesn't have the same heart as something done with brush strokes."

  "Don't tell my brother that."

  "He's a photographer?"

  "Yeah. And a good one."

  "I bet if he came here he'd want to pick up a paintbrush."

  If Kane came here it would be to retrieve his older brother in a body bag to take home for burial.

  Michael brushed off the thought. Dead or alive, when he left Paradise, his job would be done.

  Paradise Island. Sleepy. Picturesque. Inauspicious. Home and headquarters of the Scourge of the North Pacific, Trevor Church. Island population, 132. So small, the damn thing wasn't on the map. It didn't look any different now than it had a year ago. Only this time, Lieutenant Michael Wright was no longer a Lieutenant. And this time he was upright, healthy, and ready to finish the war they'd started.

  Despite being in a protected inlet, the ire of the monsoon could be seen in downed trees, uprooted shrubs, and debris littering the beach and shell road leading into town. The small marina was a hive of activity. A dozen or more men were busily bringing various-size boats back to their slips.

  Michael eased the boat into an empty slip, then jumped onto the worn, weathered dock to tie her off.

  "Thanks for getting us back to terra firma safely."

  "Did you go to boarding school?" he asked lazily as he tightened the bow rope, then let it drop to the deck.

  She ran her fingers through her curly hair as she glanced around, then turned to look at him. "Frequently. Why?"

  "Frequently? "

  She grinned. "Often. Recurrently. Periodically."

  What a strange little bird she was. She swore in ancient languages, was as polite as a schoolgirl, was a sailor's wet dream in the sack, and couldn't hold a musical note in a handbasket. "I know what 'frequently' means." He motioned Lucky to stay onboard. The cat blinked, then gracefully jumped onto the wharf and began licking himself.

  Michael glanced back at Tally Ho. "I asked because you're so charmingly polite." He smiled. Don't look at me with trust and hope in those baby-blues, sweetheart. I'm a son of a bitch. I'm going to destroy you along with your scum-sucking father without a qualm. "Too bad you can't control what your eyes are telegraphing. Which is something altogether different."

  "That's your imagination." She dismissed the accuracy of his statement, but lowered her lashes fractionally, anyway.

  Michael's smile widened.

  "Of course I'm polite. How ungrateful would I be if I didn't thank you for saving my life?"

  He held up his arms so she could jump down, and she leaned down to rest her hands on his bare shoulders. Michael made sure he slid her all the way down his front. Very, very slowly. Then enjoyed the way her cheeks pinked, and her blue eyes sparkled as she looked up at him. "I did a little more than save your life," he reminded her.

  She took a small, retreating step out of his loose hold. "Um, yeah. To be frank, I'm trying to figure out how I got myself into a situation where I feel as though I have to apologize to you for"—she waved a slender hand in a vague description—"I'm… oh, damn… I'm embarrassed, all right."

  "Yeah? Well, don't be. We're both grown-ups. The pleasure was mutual."

  "Well, yes, it was…" She paused, then said in a rush, "Was I gray in the dark? Wait. Never mind." She put her hands over her face. "Oh, damn. I can't believe I asked you—forget I asked. Stupid. Stupid. Aggh! Forget it."

  Michael cupped her shoulders with his hands. She was as stiff as a board. "Are you trying to ask me if any woman would've done last night?"

  "Yes. No. Of course any woman would've done. We don't know each other. I was available—could we please change the subject? I'm really uncomfortable Monday morning quarterbacking."

  "Done it often?" he asked silkily.

  "No." She ran her finger through her hair self-consciously. "If I had, I'd be better at this, don't you think? Shoot. I didn't even remember until this morning that we didn't use"—she glanced around the busy dock to make sure no one was within earshot—"protection."

  Nice to know she'd been too hot to notice. "Yeah, we did."

  Those big blue eyes widened, and a slow smile curved her lush mouth. "We did? Oh. Ah… good."

  He lifted her chin with his finger. Her lashes fluttered. Oh, she wanted to block out the sight of him, but Tally Ho was just too straightforward. Too honest, for subterfuge. She reluctantly dragged her gaze to meet his.

  "I haven't had sex in more than a year, honey. And it's been offered. Plenty of times." He cupped her hot face and ran his thumb over her cheekbone. "Believe me. You weren't any shade of gray in the dark. I knew who you were. And you were glorious Technicolor."

  "Bless your heart." She smiled almost shyly. "You are such a gentleman, Michael Wright." Her pink cheeks made her eyes appear bluer. She pressed a soft kiss to his palm. "Okay. End of subject. Come up to the boardinghouse. I'll spring for breakfast."

  "I'll take a rain check on that. I'd better see to repairs on this old tub before I get settled."

  "Oh, shoot. I forgot my clothes in the dryer. May I?"

  "Go
ahead. I'll wait for you," he said absently, staring at her mouth.

  He quickly helped her back aboard. He was getting into the act a little too enthusiastically, Michael thought sourly. Screw it. She wasn't recreation, she was a pawn. Nothing more. The charming act was for her pleasure, not his. He'd better damn well remember that.

  He did a visual scan of the area. The marina, and a long stretch of sugar white beach, nestled in the inner curve of the island. A village comprised of a handful of small, whitewashed houses was tucked in the valley formed by the base of the volcano. Spectacular emerald green folds fanned out around the base of the peak like pleats in a velvet skirt. Several small hills, like bumps on a spine, trailed off to the south.

  Coconut palms swayed and rustled in the warm breeze, and scarlet hibiscus grew wild and lush in every direction, bright among the lush tropical foliage.

  Paradise Island was a grandiose name for a tiny, bean-shaped island in the middle of nowhere. To the north, the cone of a small volcano reared out of the lush vegetation. High, steep cliffs on three sides made it impossible to breach. The island might be small, but it was impossible to approach without being seen from any direction.

  And an unwary sailor would ground his boat if he didn't know exactly where the channel was. Church's precious cargo hadn't been brought in by tanker. The channel was too narrow, too shallow. No, the cargo had been transported bit by bit onto the island. What Michael was looking for couldn't be far inland. As small as the island was, there was no form of transportation, other than a few bicycles and some golf carts. Whatever was removed from the ships had to be carried. And what had been carried was extremely heavy. So. What he was looking for was close. Close to the marina.

  "All set." Tally tossed him the bundle of her clothes and accepted a hand down. "Thanks." She smiled up at him. "I'll see you later."

  A burly guy in khaki shorts and an open-neck shirt came down the jetty to meet them. "Made it through the storm, I see," he said unsmilingly to Tally.

  "Gee, Brian." Tally brandished a smile so friendly, it should've raised all sorts of warning flags to the guy. "I'm glad to see you, too. Yes. We did. Michael Wright," she said,