Bermuda Nights - The Boxed Set (33 page)

Kayla looked Evan up and down, her eyes glowing with interest. “And this brother of yours – does he look like you?”

He grinned. “In fact, he does, but I’m afraid he’s taken. He’s been dating a woman from Italy since his freshman year of college, down at the University of Miami. They’re pretty serious.”

She shrugged. “Ah well, can’t win them all, I suppose.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “So, just this one meeting? And then it’s all over?” Her eyes shadowed. “But what if Sven blames me? Thinks I’m responsible for him being caught?”

Evan shook his head. “We’ll make sure he thinks you’re being taken in with the rest of them, and that you’re let go due to lack of evidence of how involved you were. The same with Amanda here. We’ll make sure he knows I was acting alone.”

A tremor ran through me at that, but I nodded. I knew it was for the best, for all of us. The fewer people Sven had in his sights, the better.

Kayla looked at me. “You’re sure, honey? Maybe it’s better if we just don’t get involved. Let Evan and his team do what they can on their own.”

I shook my head, hooking my arm through Evan’s. “I want to get Sven out of commission permanently, and this is the way to do it. If we don’t make a solid case against him, who knows what other harm he could cause – both to others and to us.”

Kayla shuddered. “That’s for sure. I suppose you’re right. The longer we can put him away for, the better.”

I looked at her with concern. “But are you sure you’ll be able to play-act convincingly for this meeting? He’ll be watching for any signs of trouble.”

She laughed out loud. “Honey, I work at a bar in Boston,” she reminded me. “Lying is our way of life.” A grin spread across her face. “And I think this will be one of my favorite memories of the trip.”

I looked to Evan. “All right?”

He nodded. “Now for the real test. It’s time for us to go talk with Sven.”

Chapter 8

Evan didn’t even bother to knock. He put his key card into the door of the room that he’d shared with the band these past few months. He turned the handle. He pushed it wide.

Three pairs of eyes swiveled from where they stood in the center of the room in a huddle. Three sets of gazes locked onto him, then widened in unbelieving recognition.

Evan smiled coolly as he walked into the room. I trailed behind him, making sure the door shut with a solid click.

Sven found his voice first. “You’re … you’re all right?”

Evan rolled his shoulders. “Yeah, my feet are a little sore, landing on that balcony below us, but Amanda had it easy. She fell onto a deck chair mounded with towels.” He chuckled. “Those suites are stunning. Champagne and caviar. Since the owners were out, we took the opportunity to … avail ourselves of their king-sized bedroom.”

I slid my arm around Evan’s waist, looking up at him. “It was nice to finally do it in a proper bed.” I pressed my lips to his. The memory of our time together at the Nantucket Inn flooded my veins, and my kiss deepened …

Sven’s grateful laugh rolled around the room, and with effort I pulled myself back from Evan. Relief rose off of Sven in waves as he looked the two of us over. “I should have known that’s where you were.”

Evan raised an eyebrow, his arm still about me. “Why, were you worried about us?”

Sven waved a hand at the air. “No, no, of course not. I knew you were perfectly safe. Just curious how long you were going to take, that’s all. We’ve got an important meeting coming up, of course, and we want to be fresh for that.” He nudged his head at me. “Both of you.”

I grinned up at Evan. “Oh, we’re fresh all right,” I murmured. “Fresh and ready.”

Evan’s eyes went smoky, and Sven laughed again.

“I can see that.” He smiled. “Now we just have to hope that Kayla and Jeff are as in good shape when we land.”

Evan shook his head. “Jeff is out. Some crew members saw him man-handling Amanda earlier on the deck, and they’ve tossed him into the brig. He’ll be transferred to the Boston police once we land.”

Sven’s face creased with concern. “Maybe we could get him out if –”

Evan shook his head again. “It’s out of our hands at this point. There’s a hearing, investigation, and all of that. But not to worry – I’ve found us an alternative.”

Sven’s lips turned down. “Oh? And who might that be?”

“My brother, Brandon.”

Sven’s brows drew together. “Was he that one out in New York City? The one who was moving to Worcester?”

Evan shook his head. “No, no, that’s Sean. Brandon is my brother down in Miami. The Coast Guard guy. Knows his way in and out of boats; knows all sorts of things about shipping. He’ll be a great asset to us.”

Sven raised an eyebrow. “And he doesn’t mind this line of work?”

Evan shrugged. “He’s got a girlfriend who’s fairly demanding. He’s found it hard to please her on a government salary and has taken to ... supplementing his income. He’s quite talented at it.”

Sven nodded. “Sounds fairly ideal for us. Good.”

Evan drew me close, his gaze on the three men before us. “So, anything else? I need to get Amanda back to her room to help her get packed.”

Sven chuckled. “I’m sure you do.” He reached behind him, picking up the tux jacket which was draped over a chair. He tossed it to Evan. “You might need this; you left it on the deck.” Sven looked between us. “Pack up and get some rest. We’ll see you on shore about ten, at the Pickled Herring?”

Evan nodded. “I wouldn’t miss that for the world.”

Chapter 9

I pulled open the door to my room, then blinked in surprise. My suitcase was open on my bed, fully packed, everything neatly in place. Kayla’s suitcase was sealed up and sitting against her bed.

She smiled as I stepped into the room. “I had a burst of energy,” she explained, “and I didn’t know how long you’d be. I hope you didn’t mind.”

“Not at all,” I admitted. “I appreciate it immensely. And you even left me PJs and clothes for tomorrow.”

“Hey, I know how this works,” she grinned. A yawn split her face, and she chuckled. “Also, I am now exhausted. I figured this way we could put the bags out and get some sleep. We want to be as awake as possible for tomorrow morning.”

“The Pickled Herring at ten,” I agreed. My stomach rumbled loudly, and I put a hand to it. “But it seems I’m starving, so I’ll handle the luggage and go find food. We’ll let you get some shut-eye.”

“Sounds good to me,” she agreed, folding back her covers. She climbed onto the bed. “Just turn the lights out when you go.”

I closed up my bag and dragged it to the door. Evan was waiting outside and helped me get both of them in place in the hallway. I quietly closed the door behind us when we were done.

I looked up at him. “Is anywhere still open for food?”

He smiled. “Absolutely. The mid-ship café has the best nachos.”

“Sounds perfect. Can they make them to go?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Of course.”

I grinned. “Good.”

I could see the curiosity welling within him, but he simply walked me to the elevator, and in a moment we were stepping off near the café entrance. It seemed several other people had also been hit with late-night hunger pangs, for a few of the tables were occupied. Evan put in the request, and in a few minutes we were handed a large plate mounded with steaming chips and salsa, covered with saran wrap.

He looked at me, intrigued. “Now where to?”

My grin grew. “Follow me.”

We walked along the deck, up a flight of stairs, and down another hallway. I turned into the empty room. A scattering of tables and chairs clustered around a dark, empty stage.

He walked with me to the small, round table to one side, his steps slowing. He put the plate down on the table, then turned to me, taking my hands.

His voice was rough when he spoke. “This is where I first saw you, alight with my music.”

I nodded, my eyes lost in his. “This is where I first connected with you. I hadn’t yet seen your face or that perfect body of yours. I had only heard your music. I felt your music course through me, and it twined into my soul. I knew. Somehow, I just knew.”

His eyes were fathomless. “Oh, Amanda …”

I stepped to him, gently, a feather on the wind. My body eased against him as if we’d always been meant to fit just so. My lips were kitten soft, and his breath came into me as a sigh.

I turned him so his back was to the heavy, plush chair, and then I gently pressed him so he sat back in it. I soaked in the sight of him, in his freshly cleaned tux, the man who had, only hours before, risked his life to save me.

I stepped back, slowly twirling in place, my arms out. “This is where you saw me dance for you.”

He nodded, his eyes caught on me, soaking in the sight.

“For you,” I repeated, turning again, adding a sway to my hips. “Only for you.”

He swallowed, and I could see the heat of desire rising in his eyes.

I turned for him again. “I need some music to dance to. Sing for me.”

His voice was hoarse. “What should I sing?”

The corners of my mouth turned up. “How about ‘Black Magic Woman?’”

He nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. He began, his voice rich, rolling, resonant with power. It delved into my soul, twining around my heart, and I spun with it. I could see it in his gaze, that he was swept up in my motions, in the movement of my body in its crimson dress wrap.

We became one; one with the music, one with each other.

As he drew into the third verse, I danced closer to him, and he opened his legs, his hands coming out to stroke my legs as I drew near. The feel of his fingers sliding up my thighs sent a wave of moistness through my sex, and my breath left me.

I bent over, putting my hands on the chair back, on either side of his head. I rocked forward, lowering my cleavage before his lips, and he groaned, the song fading off into a mangled growl. His hands slid up to cup my ass, squeezing, and I brought my lips to his neck, gently sucking.

His groan was for me alone. “Oh, Amanda, you have me bewitched.”

“It’s a spell you’ll never break,” I vowed, dropping my hips so I pressed them against his. The hardness of his cock thrilled me, and his groan deepened as I rocked against him. Then I continued my slide until I was on my knees before him.

His hand slid into my hair, and his eyes were hot with need. “Amanda …”

I undid his belt, pulling the tongue free, then worked my way down the buttons. By the time I eased his cock out of his briefs, it was the hardest I’d ever seen it, throbbing with need.

I curled my hand behind my back, sliding the zipper down enough so my shoulders came free. The red fabric slid down my arms, coming to rest above the elbows. Now only the lacy black fabric of my bra shielded my breasts from his view.

His gaze soaked me in, his breath coming in long draws.

I reached one hand up to slide the opposite bra strap loose, then reversed. Then I curled my hands again, bringing them behind me. I arched forward, pressing my breasts against the black fabric of my bra, then looked up at him.

I kept my voice low. “Do you want me?”

His groan shimmered through me. “God, Amanda, yes. Yes. Yes.”