Quick and dangerous, p.3
Quick & Dangerous, page 3
She closed her eyes again and tilted her head up to the clouds. A serene smile fell across her lips as she continued to walk through the water.
“Not much of a people person?” he asked, loving that at this moment he could study her without her knowing. She was without a doubt one of the most gorgeous women he’d ever met. Her skin was lightly bronzed from her time in the sun. Her lashes fell long and feathered out against high freckled cheekbones, and her nose was the most kissable little ring-pierced button.
She breathed a half-hearted laugh. “It’s not that. It’s that peace can be hard to come by sometimes, so you have to take the little moments when you find them. I like people a lot. I’m an extrovert. If I didn’t like people, I’d find a job in a kitchen somewhere or make beds and clean rooms. I like people. But sometimes I reach my limit.”
“I don’t like people much,” he said.
Skyler opened her eyes again and turned to face him. The way the sun hit her eyes at that moment made them practically glow. Greens and golds of every imaginable shade stared back at him with open curiosity. “No? Why not?”
He grinned down at her. “I like specific people, but the human race on the whole is pretty fucked up. A lot of self-destruction, division, selfishness. We as a species are digging our own grave with the way we treat this earth … and each other. I’ve seen far too much hate, too much loss, too much death to think we’re a happy, nice bunch of fuckers.”
At this point she’d stopped and was now gaping at him.
“You are so right,” she said slowly. “I’ve never heard it put like that before, but you’re totally right.” She nodded, her face scrunching up into one of conviction. “You’ve converted me. I don’t like people either.”
Rob chuckled. “That’s the spirit.”
Skyler rolled her eyes, and they continued to walk.
“What about me?”
She bent down and picked up a shell from the water. “What about you?”
“Do you like me at least?”
“I don’t know you.”
“Would you like to?”
She shrugged, dropping the shell back into the water. “I’m a pretty boring person.”
He doubted that. In fact, he knew that wasn’t true. “I’m not.”
She glanced sideways at him. “You’re also not cocky at all.”
His grin grew wider. “Come to dinner with me at the Barracuda. I don’t know a soul on the island, and since you’re going to take me diving tomorrow, we might as well get to know each other. Become friends.”
She hesitated, and he watched as worry and the desire to flee paraded across her stunning features. “Okay.”
“I’ll come get you.”
She made her way up the sand toward the path but made it clear with her body language that she didn’t want him to accompany her. “I’ll meet you there.”
An hour or so later, Rob left his bungalow to find that dusk had finally settled on the sleepy little island. The sky was a wash of pinks and purples, and the mountains on Lombok appeared to be hiding in the shadows. After Skyler had left him standing there on the beach, he’d continued around the island himself. He couldn’t walk the entire way around on the sand, but damn near. He spotted the Barracuda Bar and noticed it was already hopping with people taking advantage of happy hour.
Rob hated crowds. Hated loud noises. The press of bodies, the cacophony of too many sounds competing with each other, it was not his scene. Hopefully, by the time they went for dinner, it was a hell of a lot emptier.
He headed back to his bungalow and reviewed the pictures he’d taken of Skyler’s fake passports.
He’d have to watch himself. In his head she was Skyler McAllister, long-lost baby sister to the pushy McAllister billionaires, but she had introduced herself as Scarlett. He needed to remember to call her that.
He stopped on one of the photos. Either she was wearing a wig or had dyed her hair a deep, dark red. Her eye color was also different. Was she wearing contacts now? He hoped not. The green was striking and suited her. She’d picked the name Sabine for this passport and claimed to be born in Santa Monica, California. Another passport claimed she was born in Boise, Idaho, while another said she hailed from Moncton, New Brunswick. She had a whole slew of passports varying in nationality, name and coloring.
Yeah, it was definitely going to take some finesse to get to know the real Skyler. She’d been masking her identity for so long, he wondered if she knew who she was anymore.
Enjoying the silence and solitude, before he was forced to interact with the public again, Rob closed his eyes. He was a terrible sleeper on a good day and rarely got more than three hours interrupted or five hours of sleep total. He’d learned to go without much sleep in the field, and the dreams that haunted him most nights kept him from getting much rest or REM.
But at the moment, the dreams were at bay, and he felt at peace. He’d finally found her. Within the week, he’d have Skyler McAllister safe and sound with her brothers in Tahiti, and Rob would head back home to Texas, check in with his parents for a week or two before taking on his next client. Perhaps he and his dad could finally have that round of golf they’d been talking about for the past year.
He was nearly asleep when a noise outside made his eyes flash open.
Grabbing his gun off his nightstand, he flipped off the safety and pressed his ear to the door.
Another moan.
Gun raised, he slowly opened the door.
Nothing. Nobody.
Creeping down the steps into the dry grass, he kept his ears peeled for another groan.
He wasn’t disappointed.
There were only about ten or twelve feet between his cabin and Skyler’s, and he could hear her shower running.
Another moan.
Rob’s eyes went wide.
The moan was coming from inside Skyler’s place.
Was she in there with someone?
He glanced over the railing to the front porch and could only see her sandals outside. That didn’t mean much, but she didn’t strike him as the kind of woman who would tolerate someone going inside with their shoes on, especially if she didn’t. It was common practice in Asian countries to remove your shoes before going inside. She’d been traveling in Asia for a while now, so it was probably second nature.
Another groan followed by an “Mon Dieu.”
Fuck! She was touching herself.
Rob’s cock immediately sprang to life in his shorts. He adjusted himself and rearranged things to alleviate the sudden discomfort.
“Oh!” came from inside the cabin. “Oh!”
“Fuck,” he groaned, shaking his head and making his way back to his own bungalow. He was hard as a rock now.
Once inside, he stripped and headed to the shower. The thought of Skyler and her hot little body all covered in soap as she brought her fingers between her thighs quickly got him there, and within fifteen minutes he was dressed again and feeling much better. Fuck, no woman had made him burn quite like this in a while. He needed to remain professional, needed to keep his distance.
This was quite possibly going to be the toughest mission of his life.
He hadn’t heard her door close yet, so he didn’t think she’d left. He needed to play it cool and not come off as a creepy stalker, so he decided to leave first. He’d head to the bar and wait for her there. Hopefully he could find them a table or pile of pillows away from noisy, annoying, Bintang-binging tourists.
He’d done some research, and decent beer was virtually impossible to find in this country. There were only one or two brands available, and according to WorldBeerAdvisor.com, both tasted like “swamp water with a hint of mule’s piss.” Guess he’d have to see if the bartender knew how to make an Old Fashioned.
Either way, he was on the job and couldn’t get drunk. But after the wild goose chase the woman had put him on, he needed a drink.
He also needed to keep his wits about him. Danger could be lurking around any corner, and the sooner he got Skyler to trust him, the sooner he could get her to safety. She had to trust him of her own free will, though. Otherwise, he’d never get her on a plane, let alone a private jet to go to three men she’d never met before, simply because they claimed to be her brothers. For all she knew, Rob could be working for whoever was after her and trying to pull a fast one. She had to trust him organically if he was going to get her to cooperate with him.
Locking his door, he headed down the steps and crossed the path. He’d spent so much time in sand in the Middle East that he should be tired of it. Especially since he’d had it lodged in some very uncomfortable places for a very long time. But beach sand was different. There was something so relaxing about burying your toes in it as you walked through the water. The way the surf sloshed around your feet and legs as you strolled aimlessly. And at night, it was even more calming.
Yeah, Rob needed more calm in his life. His mother didn’t understand why he’d decided to become a freelance investigator after he’d been discharged. She thought he’d come home and start work on the ranch, find a local girl to settle down with and start a family. He probably should have. Maybe he’d sleep better. But when he left SEAL Team Six, he didn’t feel like he’d done enough to help the world.
It was still so broken.
People were still ruining the planet and each other. If he couldn’t save the world on a large scale by being a part of an elite team of highly trained special operatives, then he could do it on a smaller scale and help those that needed it. He had a very specific set of skills, and there was no sense wasting them on his family’s cattle ranch.
“You’re going to have a heart attack before you’re forty,” his mother had said as they sat around his childhood kitchen table. His brother had driven over from the adjacent town, wife and kids in tow, and they were all having his mother’s mole. Oh how Rob had missed his mother’s chocolate mole. A family recipe passed down through the generations, from a tiny town in the heart of Mexico, his mother’s mole was what dreams were made of. And boy, had he dreamt about it. Many times during his time working overseas he would wake up salivating and with a rumbling stomach only to have to curb the pangs with some godawful granola bar from his pack.
“I’m just not ready to give it up,” he said, shoveling the decadent chocolate and chili sauce with chicken into his mouth. “Sure, I’m retired from the Navy, but I’m still able to work and do some good in this world.”
He also didn’t know where he fit into the real world, into society. Could he even do a nine to five job?
His brother Eduardo, or Eddie, as they called him, rolled his eyes. “Always were a bleeding heart there, Robbie.”
Rob ignored his brother. “I just want to do this for a bit, and then I’ll settle down.”
His mother’s dark brown eyes glowed. “And get married and have babies?”
Rob inhaled deep through his nose, glancing at his father for support. But the ex-admiral with salt-and-pepper hair just raised his hands in surrender. “The woman wants what she wants.”
“And I want more grandbabies,” Rob’s mother interrupted. She ran her hand affectionately over the back of her two granddaughters’ heads as she circled around the table, offering up more fresh, hot tortillas. Helen and Maren were four and six, and his parents were positively obsessed with being grandparents. His brother and his wife, Janeé, appeared happy. Married life seemed to agree with the majority of his family. But was it for Rob?
“Give him some time to leave the team,” his dad said softly to his mother. “You remember what it was like. Just because he left doesn’t mean he’s left.” His father’s blue eyes softened as they focused back in on Rob. He leaned over, placing his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Still having the dreams?”
Rob stiffened. He was having a lot of dreams.
“You going to the counselor the veterans’ office recommended?”
One head bob was all he gave his dad.
“You need to talk about this shit, son.”
Gritting his teeth, he faced his father. The man was a decorated admiral and had been a Navy SEAL before Rob was even born. He was a legend. He was also an advocate of mental health for veterans, having gone through years of night terrors and anxiety himself. It’d nearly destroyed his marriage, nearly destroyed their whole family until he reluctantly got help. And now he was passionate about the good talking to someone did. Yes, Admiral Malcolm Cahill, recipient of the Purple Heart, having served in both Vietnam and the Gulf War, who hadn’t shed a tear his entire life until the day his granddaughter was born, had embraced therapy with open arms. And now he’d tell anyone who would listen that the counselor he saw saved not only his marriage, but his life.
“I’m seeing someone when I have time,” Rob whispered.
“See them more.”
“I see them when I can.” He pushed up from the table, taking his half-eaten plate with him. So much for a calm, relaxing family dinner.
“Hey! Roberto! Wait up!” Shaken from his reverie, Rob spun around to follow the voice behind him. He was back on the beach, and a vision was jogging down the sand toward him. Her blonde hair billowed behind her, along with her long skirt. She was wearing a simple white tank top with thin straps—and he couldn’t tell if there was a bra or not; he kind of hoped not—and a flowing, calf-length skirt the same color as her eyes. He was stunned. With the sun behind her, she practically glowed. An angel on earth and she was headed toward him, of all people. The image of her pleasuring herself in the shower jolted into his brain, and he had to do everything in his power to keep his cock from getting its hopes up.
She quickly caught up to him.
“Good evening, Miss Scarlett,” he said, making sure to add a bit of extra twang and ramping up the wattage of his smile. He offered his arm. “I do declare you look quite fetching tonight. Care to join me for dinner? Or should I meet you there?”
Her lips twisted in a rueful smile, and she hesitated for a moment before acquiescing and looping her arm through his. “You do declare, do you?”
“I do declare.”
“Sir, you are no gentleman.”
He grinned, not bothering to look at her. They made their way up the sand. “And you, Miss, are no lady.”
Her laugh was light and carefree. “Big Gone with the Wind fan, are you?”
“It’s my mother’s favorite. My older brother’s middle name is Rhett, and if I’d been a girl, my name would have been Scarlett. She watches it at least five or six times a year. It was an easy birthday present to give her when I was a kid. Make her lunch and then sit and watch Gone with the Wind with her. You’d think I’d given her a ruby-encrusted tiara with the big deal she made over it all.”
He expected a lighthearted laugh or at the very least a feminine snort of approval, but instead he was met with bone-chilling silence. She’d grown stiff on his arm, and her gait had even lost its pep from a moment ago.
What the hell just happened?
“You okay?” he asked, stopping and releasing her arm. He brought her around in front of him, keeping her hands tight in his. “Did I say something wrong? Because it was just a joke, ya know. I do think you’re a lady.”
Her bottom lip jutted around and trembled just a touch. She looked up at him with those soulful, damp green eyes. She was fighting like a warrior to not let a tear slip out.
He tugged on her hands slightly. “What’s wrong?”
Sniffling, she pulled one hand free and wiped the rogue tear that had slipped down her cheek. “It’s okay. You didn’t say anything wrong. It’s just …” She let out a slow exhale, her chest shuddering as she struggled to compose herself. “My mother passed away recently, and Gone with the Wind was her favorite movie as well. We used to watch it all the time together. So your comment about your mom just brought back some fond memories of my own, that’s all. Nothing to worry about.” She pasted on a big, fake smile.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his thumb rubbing the back of her soft, dainty hand.
She chuckled half-heartedly. “You had no clue. It’s fine.” She twisted her hand in his and pulled him along toward the bar. “Come on. Happy hour is almost over. Let’s get a move on.”
He fell in beside her, their hands still clasped.
She felt good next to him. Too good.
Yeah, this was definitely going to be the most dangerous mission of his life … dangerous for his heart.
Chapter 4
Skyler
Skyler knew she was playing a dangerous game. Getting close to anyone was stupid. Not only did she not know a damn thing about Rob—if that was his real name—but now he, too, was in danger. She was a jinx. A chaos and catastrophe magnet. Anyone who got close to her, who loved her died. Her father, her mother, Nico.
Had Nico really loved her, though? Or had he always been after her brain?
She didn’t think she’d ever know the truth.
But that wasn’t a priority either. Her main priority, her only priority was staying alive. And she’d done just that these past few years on the run by keeping her distance from people. If she didn’t have any friends, lovers or otherwise, she was the only person with a target on her back. She couldn’t live with herself if another life was lost because of her.
But Rob seemed so nice.
She hadn’t connected with a person like this in such a long time that her body, her brain and her heart were aching from the attention overload.
They’d managed to find a table off in the corner, away from the throng of divers and backpackers who were taking part in the Barracuda music bingo. They were able to eat their meal in peace and hear each other without shouting.
