Controlling Interest (28 page)

“I'll probably dream about Big Macs. I'm hungry.”

“Me too.” As if to prove it, his stomach growled. “I don't guess you have a can opener on you?”

She shook her head. “All this food and no way to get to it.”

“No justice in this world.” Something softly touched the top of Natalie's head. Maybe his chin, maybe his lips.

She smiled and drifted off.

Matt pressed the LED button on his watch again. Its green glow softly lit the top of Natalie's head.

The last two hours, spent locked in a dark closet with a woman he not only enjoyed looking at, but whose mental and emotional processes fascinated and charmed him, had been an excruciating exercise in self-restraint. With Natalie tucked against him, his imagination kicked into overdrive.

He'd slept for a few minutes, but the injured shoulder kept waking him up, so he finally gave up and sat there praying. For Natalie. For himself. For Yasmine and whatever her problem was.

The Lord sure had peculiar ways of getting a guy's attention.

Speaking of getting people's attention, maybe they should stand up and yell or bang on the door again. Maybe somebody would pass by and rescue them.

Natalie sighed in her sleep, and he stayed put.

He'd always been restless, impatient. Reluctant to wait and listen. Surveillance was the part of his job that drove him crazy. Yeah, that and watching people cheat on one another. If he hadn't seen his parents stay together for nearly forty years, he wouldn't have believed people could commit for life.

Was he capable of loving one woman exclusively? What if he couldn't? Honoring his commitment to stay mentally pure was turning out to be harder than expected.

Natalie stirred, rubbing her cheek against the Polo insignia on his shirt. His heartbeat picked up. A sliver of light seeped under the door, and he could trace the outline of her brow and the glasses which had slid down her nose. He took them off.

Her lips curved. “Thanks,” she mumbled, rubbing a fist into her eyes. “Forgot 'em. Bugging me.”

He tucked the glasses into the front of his shirt. “No problem.” Actually, it was a big problem. The desire to kiss her was setting him on fire. He was going to move away. Right now. Right after he touched her cheek. After he lifted her chin. After he pressed the pad of his thumb against her lower lip and bent down to kiss it. After . . . whatever.

It was too late. She made a little humming sound and kissed him back, sweetly, without reservation.

“Matt, I think I'm falling in love you,” she said against his lips. “I tried not to, but I couldn't help it.”

Cold-water fear jerked him away from her. “What?”

“I said — ”

He put his hand over her mouth. Too fast. Too much too soon. “You don't mean that. You don't know me, I don't know you, and you'll be sorry you said it, the second we get out of this d-doggone pantry.”

Natalie stiffened and shoved his hand away. “I'm already sorry! Why did you kiss me if you don't . . . You've been looking at me like — ”

“Yeah, but that doesn't mean . . . For crying out loud, it was just a kiss.”

The second it came out of his mouth, he knew it was the wrong thing to say. He also knew it wasn't true. That had been way more than a kiss. It was a prelude to forever. At the moment, however, he had no idea what to do about it. His skin was clammy with terror.

“You're just like the rest of them. Worse!” She scrambled to her feet and stood over him, looking like a kitten that someone had squirted with a water pistol. “At least Bradley was honest about what he wanted.”

“Come on, Natalie, I don't want sex, if that's what you're talking about. I kissed you because you're cute and kind of funny, and it seemed like you wouldn't mind. If I'm not mistaken, you
didn't
mind.”

“That's beside the point,” she said through her teeth.

As far as he was concerned, it was exactly the point. But he could see she was in no condition to be reasonable. He put up his hands. “Okay, whatever. You stay on your side of the pantry, I'll stay on mine, and maybe somebody will get us out of here before we strangle one another.”

“Fine.” She backed against the door.

“Fine.” He moved back to the opposite shelf, which was all of two feet away.

They glared at one another.

Suddenly the door behind her opened from the outside. Ok-sana the Evil stood there. “Sorry sorry sorry. You come out now. But fast. Boat is leaving.”

“Leaving?” Restraining a shriek, Natalie leaped for the doorway, nearly mowing Oksana down.

She could hear Matt clattering behind her up the metal stairway to the first deck. She burst onto the open foredeck and ran to the railing.

The gangplank had been retracted. A smooth, widening expanse of brown Mississippi River stretched between the boat and the levee.

“Matt! What are we going to do?” She whirled and found him right behind her. He was bent double, hands on his thighs, gasping.

With laughter.

“Of all the harebrained, idiotic — ” He stood up and wiped his eyes. “I bet Yasmine's on shore somewhere, probably thumbing her nose.” He closed the distance between them and slung his arm around her neck. “We, my dear Watson, have been had.”

“How do you figure? She couldn't have planned this.
We
didn't know we were coming on board, so how could
she
have known?” Natalie shoved Matt's arm away. “It's just a bizarre coincidence.”

Matt just grinned at her. “Bizarre is right. Look, unless you want to go swimming and drown in that current, we're stuck on the Love Boat until it reaches New Orleans. Might as well relax.”

“Love Boat!” Considering his recent behavior, Natalie failed to see the humor. “I'm going to find the captain. Maybe he'll turn the boat around and take us back.” She turned to look at the rapidly vanishing Vicksburg shoreline. The boat had already chugged quite a way downriver.

“Knock yourself out.” Matt leaned over the rail. “I'm going to enjoy the cruise.”

Natalie glared at his back. “What's the matter with you? Don't you want to find Yasmine? Don't you want that reward?”

He looked over his shoulder. “Come on, it's just a matter of time. We'll eventually find her. She can't run forever.”

“Oh! You are impossible.” Natalie retraced her steps down to the lower deck. They were so far away from Vicksburg by now that even if they turned and went back, Yasmine would be long gone. The only consolation was that the Pakistani girl was clearly headed south. Maybe Natalie could make friends with Oksana and get her to part with more detailed information about Yasmine's goals.

Or maybe something else would occur to her. Matt didn't seem to be worried about the kink in their plans.

Love Boat
. Good grief. How could he kiss her like that, say she was cute and funny — or was that
funny-looking
? — then claim it didn't mean anything? He was a cad, just like Bradley. A piggish, good-looking, protective gentleman with the best belly-laugh she'd ever heard.

And he kissed like the guy in that old movie where John Cu-sack stood outside the girl's window holding a boombox over his head. What was that song? She couldn't think of it, with “Dixie” still screaming from the calliope speakers over her head.

Oh, phooey on him. She used to fall for a good kisser, but not anymore.

She was holding out for John Cusack.

“You two are stowaways.” Hewitt had pounced on Matt and Natalie shortly after they finally located Oksana in the lounge. The steward was stiff with outrage. “I can have you put in jail.”

“Been there, done that.” Matt put a brotherly arm around Natalie. He was giving up on this fasting thing. As much as they'd been thrown together, he might as well.

Natalie didn't seem to notice. She looked down her nose at Hewitt. “You can't put us in jail. It wasn't our fault.”

“Mr. Hewitt, I lock them in pantry,” Oksana whispered, twisting the rag in her hand.

Hewitt's head whipped around. “What do you mean, girl? Are you out of your Siberian mind?”

“I am from Ukraine, not Siberia.” Oksana's mouth firmed. “I lock them in because they chase my friend.”

Hewitt looked at Natalie. “You mean Yasmine? Where is she, anyway?”

Oksana ducked her head.

“She never came back from the stop in Vicksburg.” Matt speared Oksana with a look. “Isn't that right, Oksana?”

“I do not know.”

She was lying. Matt picked up a handful of cocktail peanuts from a bowl on the bar and crammed them in his mouth. He couldn't shake the truth out of her. He glanced at Natalie.

She took the hint. “Oksana, listen. What Yasmine doesn't know is that we don't want to hurt her. We wouldn't even try to make her go back to her fiancé if she doesn't want to go. We just want to talk to her and make sure she's okay. Her mother and father are worried about her, because she's never done anything like this. What if someone besides Matt and me is after her?”

Oksana chewed on her lower lip. “I do not talk to Hewitt.”

Matt caught the threat in the steward's chilly gaze. Whoa. Something else going on under the surface here. He stood up, moved closer to Oksana. “Come on, let's go through the buffet and sit down.” He intercepted Hewitt's protest. “Don't worry, I've got a credit card. We'll pay our way.”

“Oksana's working.” Hewitt grabbed her arm.

Oksana seemed to take courage from Matt and Natalie's support. “My shift is over.” She jerked away from Hewitt's hand and exited the lounge like a queen on a Mardi Gras float.

Matt grinned at Natalie as they followed Oksana to the dining room. “I think you made an ally.”

“I hope so, because I'm starving.”

In the dining room doorway, Natalie peered over Matt's shoulder, groaning. The buffet line snaked around the room and every table was full.

“Is okay,” said Oksana. “Follow me.” She led the way straight into the kitchen.

A tall black chef tending a Dutch oven full of sweet potatoes looked around and frowned at the invasion of his domain.

“Cook, these are my new friends — ” Oksana blinked at Natalie. “I do not know names.”

“I'm Natalie.” She pointed at Matt. “He's Matt.”

Oksana wilted onto a stool and put her hands over her face, her bravado disappearing like air out of a slashed tire. “Now I lose my job! Hewitt will throw me back in river like fish.”

“Oksana, you don't have to let the guy treat you that way.” Natalie put her hands on her hips and stared at Matt. “Tell her!”

Matt shrugged. “Of course you don't. You can sue the pants off him for sexual harassment.”

“Sue? I do not know this word. And I want him keep pants on!”

Matt snorted. “On second thought, I guess you do. Just tell him to take a hike when he bugs you. Be firm, like Natalie.” His gaze held hers.

“You — you — ” Natalie whirled to address the chef. “Have you got anything to eat? We've been locked in your pantry all morning and we're starved.”