Big easy secrets, p.7
Big Easy Secrets, page 7
* * *
Jameson watched Kinley as she pretended to sleep. Oh, he knew it was a ruse, but he wasn’t about to call her on it. He wanted to see just how far she was willing to take this little game.
He had to admit, he hadn’t expected her to go this far. And if he was a better man, he might have stopped things before they’d gotten here. But he wasn’t a better man. In fact, he was downright terrible.
Because there was no denying he’d wanted her from the moment she walked into the basement of his house. And faced with what his body had been begging him to claim, he couldn’t find the strength to say no or push her away.
In truth, this could blow up in his face. Kinley didn’t trust him. She didn’t trust anyone. She’d already called him on manipulating her, and if she found out he was still doing it, she’d be pissed.
But it was more than that.
He admired her. She was strong. Independent. Gifted and brilliant. And something deep inside his chest was tempted by the idea of her next to him.
She reminded him of his mother, which sent another tiny shard of grief and memory through his chest. Memories of her were of a happy, normal childhood. The life tragedy and circumstance stole from him.
He’d spent years trying to get back to that ideal in his head. The house in a neighborhood with a corner store and kids riding bikes down the sidewalk. And for years, he’d allowed himself to pretend.
On the surface, he’d bought himself exactly that. And then built a secret life he kept locked in the basement.
Kinley, she kept shattering his illusion.
Because despite everything, he could see her sitting on the front porch, waving at the neighbors with him.
But that wasn’t who she was. Or who she wanted to be.
So this entire situation had just vaulted from messy into downright chaotic. But no matter what, Jameson couldn’t dredge up the guilt or regret for what had just happened. He’d pay later, but the price would be totally worth it.
For now, he would simply appreciate the moment for what it was. Because it wasn’t likely to happen again.
Once Kinley was out of his bed and had what she wanted, she’d put those walls up between them again. The same walls she used to keep everyone out.
Kinley’s breathing evened, even if he could tell by the thump of her pulse against his shoulder that she wasn’t really asleep. To play along, Jameson shifted until he was more comfortable. His palm cupped the curve of her hip and he forced his own breathing to shallow. His muscles relaxed.
It wasn’t long, maybe twenty minutes, before Kinley quietly slipped from his bed. Through slit eyes, he watched her gather her belongings without bothering to put any of her clothing back on.
The door cracked open, spilling white light across her gorgeous skin. In any other circumstances, he might have appreciated just how radiant she was.
But not many men would be joyful to watch a woman they’d just spent hours in bed with, sneaking away like a thief in the night.
Six
Holy hell. She hadn’t expected that. Kinley’s world was still spinning. Never in her life had anyone made her feel the way Jameson did. And it wasn’t just the physical pleasure and unbelievable release. Releases, but who was counting?
It was more than that. The man knew how to make a woman feel...desired, powerful, sexy. Jameson Neally was a brilliant man and having all that intelligence and focus centered on her...
She’d never let anyone close enough to give her that. It was hard to connect to someone who didn’t even know her real name. She’d never in her life expected to want it.
But, God, she did. She wanted him. More. Now.
Which was dangerous, stupid and inconvenient. Kinley couldn’t afford any of those things. She had to remember that her security was in the wind along with her money. She needed those millions. The money was her only safety net. And while a part of her was beginning to think spending the rest of her life on this yacht with Jameson might not be the worst thing in the world...the rest of her couldn’t sacrifice her independence.
Not when she’d fought so hard and given up so much to find it. No man—or amount of unbelievably amazing sex—was worth that.
So things might have gotten a little carried away, but that didn’t change the overall plan. In fact, it might make things easier. Jameson had let his guard down and she could use that to her advantage.
Rolling onto her belly, Kinley snuggled into the crook of his arm and rested her head on his shoulder. She let her eyelids fall closed as she drew mindless patterns across his chest. The tempting weight of his arm curled around her waist as his hand cupped the curve of her hip.
His warmth seeped beneath her skin, but she forced herself not to give in. Not to fall asleep in his arms.
Slowly, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek mellowed as Jameson fell asleep. The weight of his hand slipped, falling to the bed beside her with a thump.
Still, she waited another several minutes. Patience was a virtue, after all.
Her brain spun, guilt, irritation and a clawing need for him mixing into a sludge deep in her belly. No, she would not feel bad about what she was about to do. This man had stolen from her. He’d tracked her and manipulated her.
She would not feel guilty for doing the same thing.
When she was certain he was asleep, Kinley quietly climbed from the bed. Jameson mumbled and shifted, his body settling into a more comfortable position now that she wasn’t stretched beside him. But he didn’t wake.
Kinley tiptoed through the dark room. Thank goodness every piece of furniture was bolted down so there was little to stub a toe on or stumble over. As she went, she grabbed up her dress, panties and shoes, scooping the entire mess into her arms.
She didn’t let out the breath she was holding until the cabin door closed quietly behind her. She didn’t bother to dress, but used the pile of clothes as a shield for the few steps to her own cabin. Inside, she quickly pulled on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Choosing to leave her feet bare, she set out for the stairs leading into the belly of the ship.
It was huge by most standards, but in the grand scheme of things it was only so big. It didn’t take her long to wind her way back to the server room Jameson had shown her the first day aboard.
Reaching for the handle, Kinley wasn’t surprised to find it locked. And while she did have the skills to pick it, she didn’t have the tools necessary on the ship.
A spurt of frustration shot through her system. Sagging against the wall, she rubbed the heels of her palms against her eyes. Think.
Jameson would have a laptop, a tablet, something he could easily access. Dammit, why hadn’t she thought about that and searched his cabin? Although that might have been living life a little too close to the edge with him sleeping right there.
Okay, so she’d search the rest of the ship now and if she didn’t find anything, would make it her mission to get into his stateroom again tomorrow. Alone.
She’d start on this level and work her way below. Maybe she’d get lucky and find something, if not Jameson’s laptop, maybe one of the crew had one.
The ship looked completely different at night. No sunlight or strategically placed lights illuminated the small rooms. She hadn’t realized just how few windows were on the ship until everything around her was pitch-black. Her fingers and hands became her guides as she felt her way down the hallways.
The eerie silence seemed to roar in her ears, along with the swish of her blood as it pumped through her veins. A loud metallic sound suddenly echoed through the hall, making her jump and gasp. What the heck was that?
Flattening against the wall, Kinley inched her way forward until she rounded a corner. Farther down, a rectangle of light spilled out from an open doorway. More sounds, voices, grinding and metallic clanks flowed out.
Creeping slowly, Kinley waited, pressed against the wall as she listened. A gruff, gravelly voice filled with frustration floated out to her. “I’m telling you that’s not going to fix the problem.”
Exasperation followed from a second voice, “I don’t care. Try it anyway. At this point, we have nothing to lose. Mr. Neally indicated that we needed to get the Queen running as soon as possible.”
“Whatever,” the first voice grumbled.
Taking several deep, calming breaths, Kinley pushed against the wall as she leaned around the jamb to take a quick peek.
Two men, one of them the captain, stared at a huge piece of machinery in the middle of the room. It took her several seconds to realize the other man was on his knees, a huge wrench in his hand.
As she watched, he dropped flat to the floor and wedged beneath whatever it was they were looking at. With a frown, he reemerged. “See, I told you that wouldn’t work.”
Eric shrugged and started to move. Kinley jerked back and quietly darted down the hallway.
Maybe her suspicions that the Queen didn’t really have a mechanical failure were unfounded and they were legitimately stranded.
Kinley wasn’t sure how she felt about that. A little more concerned than she’d been before. It wasn’t like they were sinking, but being stuck in the middle of nowhere didn’t exactly give her the warm fuzzies.
And maybe, just maybe, she’d misjudged Jameson, too. Which, after tonight, she wasn’t entirely certain what to do with. Did it change anything?
Probably not.
He might not be lying to her about the ship, but he’d been dishonest about plenty of other things. And he’d taken her safety net, left her vulnerable and alone.
Although she’d already been alone.
Learning that the Queen might actually be broken-down didn’t change anything else, though. She still needed to get her hands on a computer. Sitting idly by while Jameson tried to find her money...that wasn’t going to work for her anymore.
* * *
Propped up against the headboard, Jameson watched the picture on the monitor in front of him. The glow of the screen was the only light in the room.
It was one thing to think she might have been using sex as a distraction, but it was another to see the clear evidence of it. Oh, he wasn’t surprised, but there was a definite part of him nursing some wounded pride.
It wasn’t the first time in his life that he’d been used, although for some reason it hurt more. More than he’d expected it would.
The ding of an email hitting the cloning program had him jumping from one screen to another. Opening the message, his irritation mixed with pure anger and worry. The email was short, but crystal clear.
Return the money within forty-eight hours. We know where you are. With a picture of her stepping onto a plane, no doubt on her way to Tampa.
Goddammit. He shouldn’t be surprised, but there was a part of him hoping that he’d overreacted to the entire situation. The email—sent to Kinley’s personal, private account—suggested otherwise.
On the bright side, maybe he’d be able to trace the message and get somewhere. And even if they knew she was in Tampa, it wasn’t likely someone would be able to follow them in this open expanse of water. Not without the crew noticing.
Flipping back to the video monitoring program, he watched as Kinley skulked around the ship, switching from camera to camera as she moved quietly through the space. The minute she’d slipped from his bed he’d notified Eric that she was out and about and instructed him and the staff to stay out of her way, but keep an eye on her.
He wanted to surveil her plan. What exactly was she after?
Eric, smart man that he was, had taken it a step further and used the opportunity to cement the ruse that the Queen was broken-down. He’d have to congratulate his captain on the play.
She moved at will, clearly searching through the ship for something. He could only assume she wanted a computer considering her hesitation outside the work space she’d seen when they’d boarded.
Hell, he half expected to watch her pry open the lock. Not that it would have done her much good considering he’d secured everything inside. Just in case.
At least the search had kept her busy. Jameson was just about to close the lid on the laptop and call it a night—the staff was also keeping an eye on her and in an hour and a half her search had been fruitless—but when he realized the direction she was heading, he hesitated.
Coming up from below deck, she moved through the salon toward the staterooms. Her cabin was farther down the hallway, tucked into a corner running alongside the galley.
Jameson held his breath when she paused just outside his door.
The picture on the screen seemed to distort and wave as he waited. Breath backed up into his lungs and he wasn’t certain which he’d rather her do—come inside or keep moving.
If she came inside there wouldn’t be enough time to make the laptop disappear. He also wouldn’t be able to pretend that he wasn’t aware she’d sneaked out of his bed after sex. It would be easier if she kept going.
But what he really wanted was for her to open the door, walk into his room and demand something from him. Argue with him. Kiss the hell out of him as she’d done earlier. Let him touch and taste her again.
It would be messy, but it would be fun. And oh so enjoyable.
Which was probably why his heart sank a little when her quiet feet carried her away.
Closing his eyes, Jameson let his head fall back as he closed the laptop.
Crap.
His entire body was tied in knots over this woman. And if he was honest with himself, had been for months. Letting his body rule hadn’t been the wisest decision, but God, it had felt good.
She was lying to him and had used him. He was lying and manipulating her. Not a great foundation for anything, especially trust.
He wanted her more now than he ever had before. Kinley Sullivan was frustrating, complicated and enticing. Her story was twisted in ways that made him ache for her even as he worried she’d never be able to find her way out of the tangled mess of a corner she’d backed herself into. She knowingly antagonized dangerous people because she could. Because it was the right thing to do.
And while his own moral compass might occasionally get rusty, he appreciated what she did and the sacrifices she’d made to use her skills for good.
Because he did the same, even if no one in their world knew it. Hell, his cover for FBI and Homeland was so well-structured even Anderson Stone had had a difficult time connecting the dots.
He knew exactly why she did the things she did. His path to working for the good guys might have been a little less straightforward, but he’d still made it.
One thing was certain: Kinley never made things easy. But he supposed easy was often boring.
With a groan, he set the computer on the bedside table and tried to relax so he could fall asleep. When that didn’t work, he pushed up from the bed, gathered the clothes he’d discarded all over the cabin in his haste to have her and put them on.
This time, he was the one slipping quietly out the cabin door to roam the decks like a silent wraith. Only he wasn’t searching. He didn’t have to, considering he knew exactly where to find what he wanted.
In her own cabin.
* * *
She’d slept for shit. A combination of vivid, spicy dreams of Jameson kissing her, loving her, making her body hum with pleasure mixed with haunting memories and flashes of her worst nightmares. Experiences from her childhood that she’d thought were long forgotten.
The night she’d fled Vegas, scared and alone, certain her father’s men would find her before she made it to safety. Another night filled with warm, Caribbean heat and bullets popping against the trunks of trees beside her as she fled from a Russian mobster she’d pissed off.
Panic and desire did not play well together.
Her body was a mixture of physically exhausted and mentally charged. Her fight-or-flight instinct was in overdrive, but there was nowhere to go and nothing to fight.
Except Joker.
Which was probably why she was grumpy and less than polite when he walked into the salon where the staff had set out a buffet for breakfast.
Goddamn him for looking amazing while she felt like death warmed over. Her eyes were scratchy, her skin felt tight, and a dull ache pounded just behind her temples. While he shared a bright smile with the girl who’d just refilled the pitcher of cranberry juice.
“Aren’t you a ray of sunshine,” she grumbled, her voice spreading doom and gloom instead.
Cutting her a sideways glance, Jameson snagged a plate and filled it from the domed serving platters set along the sideboard. “And why wouldn’t I be?” Pausing beside her, he leaned into her personal space. His breath brushed against her cheek and the unencumbered strands of his hair tickled her neck. “That’s what happens when I have sex with a gorgeous woman.”
Her body responded to his words in a way that was pure torture...because she didn’t plan to do anything about the tingling awareness crackling beneath her skin.
But that didn’t mean she couldn’t give him a nice big dose of his own medicine. She was strong enough to play the game without putting herself in jeopardy. Wasn’t she?
Turning, she let her breasts brush against the hard plane of his chest. “At least one of us is satisfied after last night,” she murmured, a perfect, needling smile tugging at her lips.
His entire face went slack with shock. Kinley’s grin only widened. There was something so satisfying about setting this man on his heels.
From what she’d seen, very little bobbled his confidence and calm demeanor. So far, nothing much had ruffled his feathers and there was a power in knowing she could do it.
Even if she had to tell a lie to get there.
Unfortunately for her, it didn’t take him long to find his mental footing again.
