Burn (Page 97)

Yes. No. He was going to shoot you. She couldn’t find a voice to answer, could barely breathe. She forced herself to nod, then gave a stifled shriek as she caught the movement out of the corner of her eye, saw the gun coming up. Johnson wasn’t going down if he could help it, he was going to shoot. Her. Cael. One of them, or both, if he could. Instinctively she swung around and down with the shoe, ramming the point of the heel into the hand that gripped the rail.

Johnson screamed. He couldn’t hold on. He, his gun, the shoe … they all fell.

Chapter Thirty

IT WAS EVERYTHING HE’D FEARED. FOR A SPLIT SECOND he’d been looking at Jenner, not the armed security guard, and that distraction could’ve cost them both their lives.

"I killed that man." Jenner looked over the side, then turned and buried her face against his chest.

"You didn’t kill him, I did," Cael said, holding her close. Her body trembled and she felt too cool, but she was far from in a panic. "I tossed him over the rail, not you."

"But I … I finished him off." Her voice was soft. Logically, Jenner had to realize that she’d saved their lives, but she’d just played a part in killing a man and that shouldn’t go down easy, no matter the circumstances.

Damn, he wished he’d been able to get his hands on that gun before Johnson had gone over the side. He had a really bad feeling that said he was going to need it.

"Come on, let’s go back to the room."

She let him lead her, his arm tight around her shoulders. They took the elevator; if anyone got on at the Lido deck, they’d just think the lovers had been out for a late-night walk. The cut on his head wasn’t too bad; if anyone noted the blood and asked, he’d tell them he’d fallen and hit his head on the rail. It was a plausible explanation. He didn’t want Jenner to have to deal with putting on a false face even for the short time it took to get from one floor to the next, but he wasn’t going to make her walk down the stairs, either, not as shaky as she was.

Fortunately, they didn’t run into anyone in the elevator, so he just held her, silent until they walked into the stateroom.

"I told you to …" he began.

"Don’t," she said, turning in to him, pressing her face against his chest. "Not now."

He needed to tell the others what had happened, but that could wait until morning. No need to wake them up; it wasn’t like there was anything they could do.

Jenner’s tremble gradually eased. He tried to release her, but she grabbed his shirt with both hands and held on tight.

"I’d do it again," she whispered into his chest.

"Don’t think about it."

"He was going to shoot you."

Maybe. Maybe not. "I know."

"So I’d do it again." She tilted her head back and looked up at him. "Your head’s bleeding."

"It’s not too bad." If he wasn’t unconscious and his vision wasn’t affected by a river of blood, he was okay. A tap on the head wasn’t going to stop him now.

"I have a first-aid kit …"

He kissed her. Without thought, without command, without any reason other than he wanted to. For a long, heart-stopping minute he thought he’d lost her, and the only thing he’d been able to think was that he wasn’t ready to let her go. Not now, and probably not for a long, long time.

THE NEXT DAY, Tiffany smiled at the bartender and accepted the virgin Bloody Mary she’d ordered. The tomato juice and celery stick fit with her new "on the wagon" persona, as did the outrageous flirting, which wasn’t tough. The bartender was cute. Neither he nor anyone else could tell from her actions that anything was out of place.

Surveillance only Cael had told her when he’d recruited her for this job. Yeah, right. Now a security guard – admittedly a bad security guard, since good ones didn’t pull guns on passengers and pop them upside the head with the butt – was food for the fishes, and when word got out there would be hell to pay.

But it was well into the afternoon and she hadn’t noticed even a stir among the crew or the passengers. Frank Larkin was picking at his lunch in the outdoor cafe near the bar, where he was dining with one of the movers and shakers on the cruise, a man whose bank account put Larkin’s to shame. She turned that way, fiddled with her necklace and took a picture of the two with the tiny camera concealed there. And then, before he had a chance to notice that she was paying too much attention, she walked away, because last night’s escapade put them all at risk. They’d have to be extra careful from here on out.

She made a half turn, and immediately spotted the security guard who was watching Larkin from a distance. Her eyes scanned right past him; she saw Buttons standing by the rail, enjoying the view, and she headed that way.

Surveillance only, my ass. Every instinct she possessed told her there was more to this job than any of them knew. In the way of the biz, they’d probably know more than they cared to before it was all said and done.

GETTING INVOLVED WITH JENNER had been a bad idea. Cael knew better, but he didn’t regret a minute. Not a single minute, even though he’d let his dick complicate things beyond hope. He’d never before cared about anyone he’d been on a job with, and now he knew how dangerous it was. Faith and Ryan managed, but damn if he knew how.

He sat in a deck chair, legs stretched out, his mind on the days ahead. If Larkin’s bodyguards were not only armed but willing to use those weapons at the drop of a hat, what was going to happen when one of them came up missing?

Jenner walked onto the balcony wearing another of those sexy sundresses with almost no top, and he felt as if the air was sucked from his lungs. Damn, this was so incredibly bad.

She sat on his lap and gave him a too-quick kiss. His arm went around her waist. She smelled good, tasted good. He could almost forget why he was here, and that wouldn’t do.