Quick and dangerous, p.1
Quick & Dangerous, page 1
Quick & Dangerous
The Quick Billionaires
Book 4
Whitley Cox
Copyright © 2019 by Whitley Cox
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
Cover Design: EmCat Design
Editing: SkyDiary Productions
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A few other books by Whitley Cox
The
Single Dads of Seattle
Grab book 1 here
https://books2read.com/HBTSD-SDS
*
The Quick Billionaires
Grab book 1 here
Quick & Dirty
https://books2read.com/QDirty-QBS
*
The Harty Boys
Grab book 1 here
Hard Hart
https://books2read.com/HH-HB
*
The Young Sisters
Grab book 1 here
Not Over You
https://books2read.com/not-over-you
*
Doctor Smug
https://books2read.com/DoctorSmug
*
Hot Dad
https://books2read.com/Hot-Dad
*
Snowed In & Set Up
https://books2read.com/SISU
*
Love to Hate You
https://books2read.com/Love2HateYou
For the husband.
I like your butt.
Contents
1. Chapter 1
2. Chapter 2
3. Chapter 3
4. Chapter 4
5. Chapter 5
6. Chapter 6
7. Chapter 7
8. Chapter 8
9. Chapter 9
10. Chapter 10
11. Chapter 11
12. Chapter 12
13. Chapter 13
14. Chapter 14
15. Chapter 15
16. Chapter 16
17. Chapter 17
18. Chapter 18
19. Chapter 19
20. Chapter 20
21. Chapter 21
22. Chapter 22
EPILOGUE
Chapter 1
Rob
“Fuck!” Rob Cahill yelled as he leapt off the powerboat into tropical seawater that immediately filled his combat boots. “Son of a bitch.”
“Miss the landing a bit there, eh, mate?” an Aussie tourist commented with a chuckle. He’d managed to make the jump and remain dry. Lucky prick.
Rolling his eyes and scrunching his toes in his soggy socks, Rob slung his backpack over one shoulder and trudged up the white sandy beach of Gili Air. From everything he’d read about this tiny little island off the coast of Lombok in Indonesia, it was a divers’ haven, laid back and the perfect place to unwind … or remain hidden.
There were three islands clustered together, known by most as “The Gilis.” Trawangan was the party island, Meno the island for lovers, and Air the island for everyone else. And that was Rob. His partying days were certainly over, and as for a love life … he took female affections when they were offered to him but had no time for anything serious. At least that’s what he told himself. Having retired from SEAL Team Six last year, he was somehow now busier than ever with his freelance PI business, finding people, their secrets and all for a pretty penny. So much for retirement. He hadn’t played one round of golf yet.
But he had a job to do. He’d been hired by the McAllister brothers, three billionaires, to find their long-lost sister. And she was proving to be a challenge. Nobody had ever given Rob a runaround like this woman. He’d been on her tail for nearly six months. His longest investigation yet. Just when he thought he’d tracked her down, the trail would go cold. She was running from something. But what?
His buddy and fellow SEAL Aaron had gotten a match through face-recognition software when he’d hacked into the Denpasar airport security cameras. They matched the blurry photo of twenty-seven-year-old Skyler McAllister that Rob obtained from her last known location on Koh Chang. The woman was certainly getting around. Never staying in one place for more than a few months, sometimes a few weeks. But Aaron had traced her here. She was in the background of someone else’s vacation Instagram post three days ago, and the location placed her on Gili Air. Now all he had to do was find her.
Shouldn’t be too hard.
He always finished the job. Always came through. Always found a way. He’d meet every person on the entire island if he had to. And if he turned up empty-handed, he’d move on to the next island.
He would find her. That was a promise.
But first, he had to find a place to crash for the night. Soggy, squelching boots and all, he made his way up the beach to a well-worn path wide enough for one vehicle. He needed to get the fuck out of these boots. Sure, he’d been in the trenches and worn filthy, wet, blood-covered clothes for days when he’d been a SEAL, but now he was a respectable PI, and this wet foot shit didn’t fly. He began making the circle around the island, hoping his instincts would kick in and draw him to his target.
Guest houses and hotels, bungalows and cottages lined the road on the left side, while the beach followed him on the right, calling him out for a swim.
Later. First, he had a job to do.
A dive shop on the left drew his attention. It had a large fake manta ray with a wide grin hanging up above the front door and a dozen or more scuba tanks standing sentry in front of the big picture window that said “Smiling Manta Dive” in stark white window paint.
“We’ve got a diving level for everyone,” came a friendly, melodic voice from inside. “Beginner, advanced, masters. You want to get your teaching certification? We offer that too.” There were a few chuckles from other people before the woman continued, “Or, if you’d prefer to simply float on the surface with a mask and snorkel, we rent those as well. Whatever your comfort level, we have it.”
Rob wandered inside, having to duck under the big manta ray to avoid hitting his head.
“Hi. Welcome to Smiling Manta Dive.” The voice belonged to a striking blonde behind the counter.
Rob blinked a few times, his eyes adjusting to the dimmer lighting, only to cause him to walk straight into a cardboard cutout of a scuba diver.
Abandoning her patrons, the woman raced out from behind the counter. “Whoa, you okay?” She grabbed him by the elbow to keep him from falling over. His backpack was throwing his balance all out of whack.
She snatched up the cutout and propped it back up.
By this time, Rob’s eyes had adjusted to the light inside, and he nearly swallowed his tongue. He’d never met anyone like her. And probably never would again.
She had a ring in her left nostril, grass-green eyes, rosy cheeks, freckles, dimples and the best smile Rob had ever seen.
She was staring at him curiously. “You okay?”
“Maybe he doesn’t speak English,” the female patron suggested. “Dude, do you speak English?”
For fuck’s sake.
Get ahold of yourself, man. You’re a thirty-seven-year-old Navy SEAL. Pull it together.
Gathering his wits, Rob tossed on his infamous panty-soaking smile. “I do. I also speak Spanish, some Italian, and my Arabic has been known to get me from point A to point B.”
The blonde’s face split into another incredible smile. “Well then, welcome to the Smiling Manta. Are you looking to dive?”
It was her.
He didn’t know how he knew, because she didn’t look at all like the blurry pictures he’d been going by, but it was her. He just knew it. She hardly had an accent, though, only the faintest intonation when she pronounced her th. To the untrained ear, it probably wouldn’t even be detectable. But Rob was not untrained. He was trained in everything.
This was Skyler McAllister.
He nodded. “Yeah, I’m here for a bit. Looking for a place to stay, too.”
He had to play it cool. She was obviously running from someone, so one false move and he’d either blow her cover and put her in danger, or cause her to panic and she’d flee. He needed to gain her trust first before he told her who he was.
Her emerald eyes twinkled. “I might be able to help you with that too. Just let me finish up with these folks, and then I can help you.” She made her way back around the counter and brought out matching diving masks, turning her attention to the couple once again.
While he waited, he brought up images of her brothers. He was ninety-nine percent sure this was Skyler, but he wanted to make sure. She was closest in age to Warren. They were less than a year apart. But she looked the most like Tate. Same eyes, same confident, almost cocky smile. And given the dark eyebrows and dark hair of her brothers, he’d guess she wasn’t a natural blonde. But she pulled the honey color off well. It certainly wasn’t a cheap off-the-shelf box job.
Had she changed her hair color every time she relocated? She’d changed her name a few times. The Instagram post she’d been mentioned in, even as a background dweller, had said her name was “Scarlett.”
She didn’t suit a Scarlett.
She suited Skyler.
Skye.
Forever changing.
“Hi. Sorry to make you wait,” she said, coming back out from behind the counter. The dive couple were making their way out of the shop, leaving just the two of them. “Is this your first time to the Gilis?”
He didn’t expect to find the long-lost McAllister sister so attractive. She was throwing him off his game. He needed to get a grip. He had a job to do.
“Hmm?” she probed. “You okay?”
Shit. He’d been too busy staring at those adorable freckles on her cheeks and nose. That nose ring was damn sexy too.
Get. Ahold. Of. Yourself.
“Sorry, yeah. First time to the Gilis. They’re beautiful.”
That smile. Fuck. It was going to be the end of him for sure. And her cute button nose wrinkled just a touch when she grinned.
“How long are you here for?”
He lifted one shoulder. “As long as I need to be.”
“That’s the spirit.” She beamed. “So you said you’re looking for a place to stay as well?”
He nodded. “Yeah, you know anywhere?”
“Yep. Smiling Manta has bungalows for rent just down the path. You get a discount if you book a dive package.”
“Cool. Well, then it looks like I’m booking a dive package.”
She wandered back to the desk and pulled out the same schedule book as before. “Sounds good. How much diving have you done?”
Well, he was on the SEAL Team Six dive team for five years, so a fair bit. But he couldn’t tell her that. No, the fact that he’d dived to depths that made most people claustrophobic, and in the dead of night detonated bombs underwater, blowing up drug cartel boats, was not something she needed to know … yet.
“Maybe twenty or thirty. It’s been a while though. Probably need a dive master to go with me.”
Her eyes alighted. “You’re looking at one.” Her bright white top teeth snagged her bottom lip as she provocatively ran her slender finger down the schedule book. “We’ve got a dive scheduled for tomorrow morning, and there’s still room on the boat. You interested?”
Boy, was he interested.
“Sure.”
Play it cool, man.
“And bungalow nine is available.”
“Sounds perfect.”
She grabbed a key off a series of hooks behind her and slid it across the glass-top counter, her eyes fixing on his. “Well, welcome to the Smiling Manta and Gili Air. I hope you enjoy your stay. Let me know if you need anything.”
He picked up the key. “I will.”
They stood there, eyes locked. A look of unease slowly slid across her face.
A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.
“Is there something else I can help you with?” Her chipper tone from a moment ago faltered.
Rob’s mouth split into a big grin. “Don’t you need my name and credit card information?”
Her ample chest rose and fell on an exhale of relief. “Oui!” A very forced chuckle made that ample chest bob. “Ah, Right. Sorry. I do.”
Reaching into the back pocket of his shorts, he pulled out his wallet, then handed her his credit card.
“Nice to meet you”—she squinted at his name— “Roberto Cahill.”
Oh fuck. The way she rolled the r in his name made his balls tighten up in his board shorts. This woman was dead sexy without even having to try.
“Rob. Just call me Rob.”
That infectious, carefree smile was back. “Nice to meet you, Rob.”
Was she flirting?
Damn, this mission was going sideways, and fast.
“Nice to meet you too … ” He lifted one eyebrow.
“Sky—” She paused, shook her head and blinked a few times, “Sorry, Scarlett.”
Rob pursed his lips together for a moment. “Nice to meet you, Scarlett.”
Chapter 2
Skyler
The man flustered her. Like seriously flustered her.
This was not good.
Skyler had to be alert and on guard if she was going to remain one step ahead of the Rubio Cartel and its thugs. She’d been running for so long, changing her name and hair so many times she had a hard time remembering what her real name was and doubted she’d ever get her chestnut hair color with the natural golden highlights back again.
But Roberto Cahill, or Rob as he preferred to be called, was a big, sexy piece of man that made her pulse quicken and her nipples pebble.
“I can show you to your bungalow,” Skyler offered, immediately kicking herself for doing so. The thoughts she was having about this man were not good. Okay, they were good, dirty-good in fact. Very, very dirty. But they were not safe. She was in no position to be taking a lover or hooking up with anyone. She needed to keep to herself and be ready to grab a new passport, hop on the next flight and assume a new identity at any moment.
It was those dark chocolate eyes of his, though, that made her lose her street smarts and think with nothing but her libido. Curse long lashes and soulful eyes. They would be the death of her.
“That’d be great.” His smile was enough to melt popsicles, let alone get any hot-blooded woman removing her bikini bottoms. But it was the subtle twang to his speech that had her practically fanning herself and swooning. Ever since the first time she watched Gone with the Wind with her mother, she’d had a weak spot for a man with a sexy southern drawl.
Her favorite line from the movie popped into her head.
You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how.
She bet Rob Cahill knew how to kiss. Those lips, those hips. She bet he knew how to do more than just kiss.
Down, girl.
Against her better judgement, she nodded and stepped out from around the dive shop counter. Damn, he was tall. Probably close to six feet four, with big broad shoulders and arms the size of tree trunks.
What those arms would feel like, wrapped around her. Protecting her …
“We going?” he asked, snapping her out of her daydream.
Merde. Did he know she was checking him out?
Probably.
Shaking her head to unclog the cobwebs of dirty thoughts, she tossed on the biggest smile she could muster. “You bet. Right this way.”
She walked out the front door and nodded at Budi, one of the Indonesian dive boat captains for the dive shop. “I’m just taking this guy to the bungalow. Watch the shop?”
Budi bobbed his head and brought his cigarette up to his lips. “Sure thing.”
They walked in silence for a while down the well-worn path until Rob’s voice startled her so much, she jumped.
“Shit, didn’t mean to scare you,” he drawled, grabbing her by the elbow to stabilize her. “I was just asking where the donkey carts are. Guide book said these islands don’t allow vehicles.”
Skyler spat on the ground. “They should be burning in a big heap while the poor, mistreated donkeys spend their last days frolicking in a field, but they’re mostly near the main dock.” She shook her head in disgust. “I love everything about these islands except that.”
Rob clucked his tongue. “They’re not nice to them, huh?”
“No,” she said flatly.
It was more than that, though. Animals didn’t deserve to be treated like slaves. There was no need for them on the small islands. Bicycles and feet were more than enough. When Skyler was eleven, her class had visited a farm and learned firsthand where their hamburgers came from. It was that day, that trip, that moment that she became a vegetarian. No animal would suffer or die for her ever again.
“Well, I promise not to take a donkey cart ride. The island seems small enough that my feet should do me just fine.”
“Thank you.”
Rob halted. His eyes grew wide as saucers, and something akin to panic dashed across his features. But he didn’t look around in fear like a normal person would; instead he just stared straight ahead as if in a trance.
“You … okay?” she asked, taking a step away from him.
Had he blinked? “That sound.”
“What sound?”
The cry of a baby down on the beach filled the otherwise quiet afternoon air.
