Mission: Seduction (8 page)

Then there was the possessiveness he felt. It was so strong that the idea of another man touching Kelly was enough to send his temper into the clouds. She'd called that Adrien a big brother, but Rafe had caught him giving her looks of pure affection. As far as Rafe was concerned, the guy was lucky his head was still attached to his body.

Rafe acknowledged, though, that when she looked at him, there was nothing but desire there. He'd seen it at the waterfall before the snakes arrived. The connection he felt for her scared the hell out of him and at the same time made him truly happy. Never in his life had he been so—he wasn't even sure what the right word was—for a woman.

Rafe's smile beamed back at him in the mirror as he shaved. Since the moment he met Kelly, he hadn't been able to get the image of her out of his head. She was the first woman who'd ever made him think about promises and possibilities.

Way to get ahead of yourself, man. You've known her, what? Maybe forty-eight hours?

She was so easy to talk to and there was an easy grace about her. He'd watched her at the party the night before. People flocked around her. He liked that the only smile that reached her eyes was when she glanced at him, though. If he could bottle that smile, he'd make millions.

“Rafe?”

He patted his face with the towel and peeked around the corner of the bathroom to see Kelly waiting. “Hey, am I running late?”

“No, I'm about ten minutes early. I needed to get away from my mom. She's just full of advice tonight.”

Her hair had been pulled up on the sides, and she wore a little more makeup than he'd seen her in. It enhanced the beauty that was there, but it wasn't necessary.

Kelly rolled her eyes. “She did my hair, makeup, nails.” She held up her hands and wiggled her fingers. “And even picked out what I was to wear tonight.” She did a twirl in her bold red dress and then struck a pose. He liked the way it fit against her curves. She twirled around again to show him the back had been cut away, all the way down to her hip.

His mouth went dry instantly. All the blood in his body rushed to his groin. He wanted her.

Now.

“You don't like it?” The crestfallen note in her voice dragged his gaze back up to hers.

“You're beautiful.” He really couldn't give a damn about the dress. It was the woman inside that had him at full attention. Every nerve in his body was tuned in to her. That bow mouth with the full lips. Her fingers stroking the silky dress fabric. Even the way her right foot turned in, as though a thread of uncertainty coiled through her.

He had to stop looking at her or he'd slip that pretty dress off and say to hell with her friends at the bar. Exploring her curves until he memorized every dip and swell would be so much more fun. Clearing his throat, he rubbed the towel against his face.

“Let me finish getting dressed.” He pivoted on a heel. Sometime between shaving and her arrival, the twinge in his hip diminished. His body throbbed but with an entirely exquisite kind of pain.

He dropped the towel on the edge of the sink and paused. He was falling for her. He stood right on the edge of a sandbar, and she was the fifteen-to-thirty-foot swells sweeping in to topple him.

His leg ached at the memory, but his spine stiffened. Life kept throwing these top-heavy waves at him, but he hadn't drowned yet.

“Rafe?” Her voice beckoned from the other room.

Snatching his shirt from the hook by the door, he pulled it on and strolled back out. Her grin kindled a new fire in his blood. “I'm ready.”

He only hoped that was true.

11

K
ELLY
SURVEYED
THE
Bay Breeze as she and Rafe walked into the busy nightspot. A few months ago, after a particularly nasty tropical storm, the wildly successful club, which was big with the locals, had been ripped apart. As she scanned the rough-hewn wood tables and the teak bar that had remained standing for more than fifty years, it was hard to remember the decimation.

Everyone in the small community had pitched in to help rebuild their favorite bar. It had taken less than a week.

She loved this little slice of tropical heaven. The food came grilled, the alcohol icy and the music eclectic. Rafe's bemused expression absorbed everything from the band on the makeshift stage to the pair of waiters in khaki shorts and no shirts.

At the crowded tables sat young couples, old couples and a profusion of Kelly's friends, who shouted out greetings as she and Rafe moved through the throng to find a spot at the bar. “Interesting place,” he said.

“It's one of the best bars in the world.” She ordered a drink and bounced playfully to the rhythm of the drums. It was an obscure song that Adrien's band played, a combination of tribal beat and smoky jazz. “All the locals come here and it's like a big party every night.”

Rafe's gaze roamed the room. But each time he caught her studying him, there was no mistaking the heat in his eyes.

Maybe her mom did know what made men drool.

The looks he gave her made her feel powerful and sexy. Despite the cool breeze ruffling the torches on the deck, the air inside the club was stuffy.

“I should apologize for my mother, again. I
wasn't
expecting her.” Like anyone really planned for sudden disaster, but Kelly's mob often blew in like a tropical squall, sucking out the sunlight and lashing the beach with furious swells. At least when she had some warning she could surf the waves ahead of time.

“I didn't realize who she was at first, but I guess it makes sense, given Mimi's choice of profession. Did you ever consider modeling?”

He'd gotten a beer and every time his lips touched the top of his bottle she imagined them against her skin. “No.” The strangled word barely made it past the lump of emotion in her throat. Swallowing hard, she grabbed her drink just to keep her hands busy and away from him. “I liked surfing and there are some modeling gigs you can get with that. As for hours and hours of walking, posing and worrying about whether I'm tan enough or too tan? Nah. That and I like real food. Given what I do, I get to eat whatever I want.”

A mouthful of beer barely quenched the thirst she experienced. Had she ever wanted a man like this? No. The answer came quickly.

“So, why surfing?” That deep voice of his sent a lovely shiver up her spine.

“When I was a kid, Mom traveled a lot and Mimi was already hooked on the life. Me? Not so much. So I hung out with my dad. We lived in Newport Beach and his hospital was right near the ocean and he'd go in for consults on surgeries and then whisk me out to the water.” Her expression became wistful. Those were some of her best memories. Just her and Dad on the beach. He'd point out the waves, tell her which ones were great, which ones weren't. They'd paddle out together and catch the ride back in.

“You loved it.” Rafe's voice softened, his head tilted as he watched her. “It's written all over your face.”

“Yeah, I guess I never really thought about it before, but I was happier on the ocean than I'd ever been on land. I think Dad got that. We went surfing all the time.” She'd always thought of her dad as being somewhat absent from her life, but he'd given her the gift of doing what she loved best. At some point, she should probably thank him.

Right after she reamed him out for playing head games with her mother.

“And competing?” Rafe took another sip of beer.

She could stare at his mouth all day, the strength of his jaw and the softness of his lips.

“Complete accident.” She turned away from him and leaned into the bar. He twisted to mirror her pose, and closed the distance between them so that their noses nearly brushed. The rest of the bar faded, leaving just the two of them.

“Dad and I were supposed to meet, but he was stuck in surgery. It was hardly the first time, but I was sitting there, watching the waves, and this radio crew started setting up. And then more flags were coming in and surfers flooded the beach. Turns out a local meet was held there every year, but I'd never seen it. A guy came by with a clipboard, handing out numbers and signing people up. I think I was fifteen? I just decided what the hell, I wanted to surf anyway. So I got a number and the rest...well, the rest is history.”

Rafe chuckled, the warm puffs of breath tickling her cheek. “What did your dad say?”

“Well, I came in second and he was pretty impressed. But he was livid with the guy who signed me up because I wasn't old enough.” Wow, how had she forgotten that? Dad never got angry, not like that. He'd dressed down the coordinator in cool, precise tones and then given her a big hug, a kiss on the cheek, and insisted on buying her a celebration lunch.

“How'd you talk him into letting you compete?” He rested his chin on his fist, his gaze never leaving her.

“Do you really want to talk about this?” She loved competing, riding the wickedest waves. But it couldn't be that interesting to someone who didn't surf.

“I want to know everything about you.”

Her stomach did a little flip-flop. “He asked me if I liked it and when I said I did, he hired a coach—a former competitor—and even got me a tutor for school so I could travel. He told me I was old enough to know what I wanted. Until I was eighteen, he or someone in my family always went with me. It's funny, I don't always remember just how supportive he was that first year.” He'd gone to every competition he could, making sure to never schedule surgeries when she had a meet. She didn't quite remember when or why that had stopped.

“Sounds like he's a good dad.”

“Yeah, he can be. So what about your dad? What did he think of the Marines?”

Rafe smiled and shook his head. “He thought it was a good idea, but it did scare him a little. I told you I wasn't the best kid—truth was, I was a hellion. I got into trouble a lot because I was bored. Bored in school, bored with chores, bored with my friends. Life never seemed to be that exciting.”

“Typical teenager. I didn't think anything was exciting until I entered that meet.” Which was true. She didn't like all the usual stuff and while her parents were nuts about each other, they were also nuts about appearances. Competing took her away from that world, surrounded her with other athletes who liked to push themselves as hard as she did.

“Yeah, but I don't think you broke curfew, or rebuilt the principal's Mustang in the middle of the gym.”

His self-deprecating grin begged laughter and it bubbled up inside of her.

“Seriously?” She stared at him; his sexy expression gave way to one of pure impudence. “You seem so—I don't know, marine-ish. Straight-and-narrow kind of guy.”

“Yes, ma'am. The principal busted me for kissing a girl in the hallway one day. Gave us this long, humiliating speech before marching us inside to call our parents. So I got even. He loved that car. And I took it apart, and carried it inside a piece at a time. My parents really didn't know what to do with me. My brother was a star athlete and went to college on scholarship. It was probably just me wanting to rebel against all of those expectations.”

His sigh sounded bittersweet. “The last straw came when I got picked up for joyriding, the third time that month. Dad left me in jail for the night and wouldn't let Mom bail me out. I got lucky, though—the cop who arrested me was a retired marine. He told me I could put all my restless energy to good use or begin looking at wasting my life behind bars.”

“So you enlisted?” She couldn't picture him as the bad boy, the reckless thief. He was so damn upstanding and honorable.

“Not right away. For the most part, I kept getting off easy. But Dad told me that I had one more chance. If I got caught again, he'd leave me in jail, period. We got into a fight, the kind where you say stupid things you don't mean. I remember being full of self-righteousness up until I saw my mom's face. Her eyes were red-rimmed and full of disappointment. I had made her cry and it killed me. I went from being full of myself to feeling like a jackass. It took me a week, but I called that cop again and asked him about the Marines. He even drove me to the recruiter's office. We had a long talk and they told me if I pulled up my grades, straightened myself up and stopped treading on the law, then they might have a place for me.”

“They gave you a purpose. That's what surfing did for me. I wonder sometimes what would have happened if I'd stayed in my mother's superficial world. I'd probably be in rehab or something.” Still, no one was perfect, and she did admire all professions.

“My dad was always skeptical and my being in the military terrified Mom. But they watched, helped when I asked, and the day I graduated from Parris Island, they were there in the stands.”

“They sound wonderful.” She envied that affection, the fierce way he looked when he spoke about them and the devotion mingling with respect in his words.

“They were great. They died a while back, Mom first and then Dad. But they got to see me get it together and they weren't disappointed ever again by me.”

She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him. As bothersome as her parents were sometimes, she couldn't fathom burying one, much less both. “You're a good man. I bet you really miss them.”

His hands stroked her bare back. “You're kind to say so, and yes, I do.” Several minutes passed before his husky voice whispered in her ear, “Want to get out of here now?”

Hell, yes, she wanted to get out of here.

Finally they'd be alone.

Just then a man nearby cleared his throat loudly. As they stepped apart, Adrien thrust a guitar out to Rafe. “Come play.” It was a challenge, and it surprised Kelly. What was her old friend up to? If he embarrassed Rafe, she'd never forgive him. Hadn't the guy been through enough?

The crowd thumped their tables and yelled out encouragement. Rafe looked around the room, amusement and exasperation on his face. Giving her a light squeeze, he accepted the guitar. “You stay put.”

“You play?” She stared after him and he winked.

“I do a lot of things.”

“How did Adrien know?” He had never mentioned music in the letters they'd exchanged; of course, she couldn't tell him that.

Rafe shrugged. “We were in the gym, hitting the weights, and he told me he had a band. I play, too, so we found out we liked a lot of the same music. I'll be back in a few minutes.” He gave her a peck on the lips and her mouth craved more when he backed away.

She slid up onto a stool and kept her eyes on him. He put the guitar strap over his shoulder and grabbed a chair on the makeshift stage. When his fingers strummed the first chord, she held her breath.