Swept Away (34 page)

“I still don’t have his pieces in hand,” Ian said, “but give me his number and I’ll smooth things over with him.” Ian had recently started acquiring some rare art—just one of many shrewd investment moves Clark had witnessed from him over the past six months—and since Clark’s
business was art, he had hooked Ian up with collectors who were interested in purchasing such finds. As a result, Ian gave him a healthier-than-to-be-expected cut of the profits, enough to make it worth his effort—and enough to keep him solvent for a while.

“Not necessary—I can do it,” Clark said. Ian had never been anything but cordial and respectful to him, but given his generosity, Clark felt the need not to trouble him with such
tasks.

“Listen, Clark, if you need advance payment, just say the word.”

“No, no—that’s not necessary, either.”

“You’re sure?” Ian knew Clark was having money problems, which was a little embarrassing, all things considered, but Clark just tried to be grateful Ian was so willing to help. “Absolutely—I’m good for now. But about Klinger, any estimate I can give him?”

On the other end of the line, Ian sighed. “Afraid not—I’m still looking into the delay. Speaking
of which have you heard from Kat?”

Now it was Clark who sighed. “No, actually. You haven’t gotten a call from her, either?”

“No,” Ian said simply, but Clark felt the young man’s concern and could tell he was hurt by
Kat’ s neglect, as well.

“Not to worry. Debra spoke to Nina and apparently the girls had had a late night and were
sleeping in. I’m sure she’s fine—just busy with her friends. I’m sure she’ll call soon.” Kat’s
wilder nature had kept him worried through a lot of her teenage years—but he’d tried to adjust
to it once she’d reached adulthood, especially since she seemed to have her head on straight
about most other aspects of life. Still, he hoped the girls were being careful.

“Yeah, I hope so. I want her to have fun, but well, not too much fun.” Ian chuckled, and Clark did, too, but he didn’t think either of them were very amused.

He felt the need to put Ian at ease. “Don’t be concerned, son. I’ve seen my daughter become... well, a whole new tame sort of Kat ever since you two got engaged. And frankly, if anybody’s
having too much fun, it’s probably Nina.”

Both men laughed lightly, then Ian said, “Well, in a few days, this kind of thing will all be
behind Kat. Once we’re married, she won’t have time to be jetting off with her friends.”

To Clark’s surprise, his stomach flinched slightly. As much as he felt he knew what was best
for Kat, and as certain as he remained that it was Ian, he wasn’t used to anyone outside the
family trying to dictate her actions.

But then, Ian would be her husband. Definitely in the family. And a husband had some say
over what his wife did, and vice versa. And having Ian in the family that was going to be
very good for all of them. Ian had let both Kat and Clark know that once they were married, he
planned to sink some money into the gallery—another investment.

“Totally hands-off,” Ian had pointed out. Maybe there’d been a hint of anxiety on Clark’s face
when he’d made the offer. “No fears, Clark—I would never want to be involved in any aspect
of running the gallery. But, as you know, I’m starting to realize the investment value of art, and
besides, family helps family, right?”

If Clark believed in anything, it was family. His own had plenty of squabbles and
disagreements, but overall, they were a solid unit and everything he did was for them. Without
Debra and Kat, he wouldn’t feel nearly so driven to succeed. So even if it was a little
humiliating to have his new son-in-law bail him out of trouble, it was a workable solution that
would hold everything together. He’d decided to think of it as just another little bit of glue for
his family and their way of life.

When he hung up with Ian, he tried Kat’ s cell phone for the heck of it—only to hear the same
“unavailable” message Debra had been getting. After the beep, he laughed softly into the
phone. “It’s Dad, sweetheart. It would do your mother and me a world of good to get a call
from you. I know you’re having fun, but spare a minute for the old man?” He paused, missing
her, and worrying just a little. “You might consider calling Ian, too. Be careful, Kat. I love
you.”

He was sure she was fine—because Debra had talked to Nina, after all. Yet he suffered the
oddest inkling that something wasn’t quite as it should be.

Kat could be irresponsible, but not to call home after all these messages? Of course, Debra had theorized maybe her phone was dead, but to not call home at all while traveling? She knew they
worried, and this wasn’t like her. Hell, if Debra hadn’t talked to Nina, he’d probably be
booking a ticket to Vegas himself right now to make sure she was okay.

Maybe in one sense it had jarred him to hear Ian sounding as if he planned to monitor her
comings and goings, but Clark would rest easier once they were married, once he knew there
was someone dependable looking after her. Ian was exactly what Kat needed in her life, and
Clark was only thankful she’d had the foresight to recognize that when Ian had proposed.

Just then, his computer beeped with incoming mail. He looked up to see a message from
Debra. Odd—normally, she called. He clicked to open it.

Will you be home for dinner tonight? If not, I’m going out with Lita and Beth from the book
club to the new seafood place on Third.

He hit reply.

You should go. Have fun. C

Frankly, it was a relief—it meant he could work as late as he wanted without guilt. And given
that a big shot author had just asked her to read his next book, Clark figured he might get a free
pass right up to Kat’s wedding and maybe even after. Mr. Klinger wasn’t the only buyer Clark
needed to contact about the delayed goods—in fact, there were dozens of collectors who’d
committed to one or more pieces, and Clark didn’t want to lose any of them over a
miscalculated delivery. If he didn’t have much time to be with Debra right now, she’d just have
to understand.

And once Ian sank some cash into the gallery, things would get better.

Of course, Ian had recently informed Clark there would be future art coming in, as well, and he
would need Clark’s help to find homes for it all. So, the truth was, it might take a while before
the late nights were really over.

But it would be worth it for the money.

Brock sat in his sagging lounge chair watching Kat’ s ass sway toward the ocean in her little
white bikini. He crossed his feet at the ankles, put his hands behind his head, and enjoyed the
view. Sex had relaxed him more than he could have predicted. Here he was, on a private island
with a beautiful woman on a gorgeous day—no immediate worries and nothing to anticipate at
the moment besides hot sun, cool sand, and sizzling sex. Who knew—maybe he wouldn’t need
time off to recover. Maybe the next two days—and nights—with Kat would clear all his
troubles away.

He’d been trying to think this was all about sex, but now he had to admit there was more at
work between them. All those memories from when they were young, all those fantasies from
the ten years since he’d last seen her, and the way she made him feel. Not just all the passion
zipping between them and the erections constantly plaguing him, but the way she made him
laugh, the way he liked bickering with her, the way a mere smile from the girl turned his chest warm. Hell, just watching her move down the beach and into the water captivated him. She was
wading slowly in now, letting out a high-pitched, “Oooh!” when a wave crashed over her,
waist high.

He’d been scared shitless to see Carlos with that gun to her head, and he’d have given his life
for hers in a heartbeat. And not just because he was FBI and she was an innocent bystander,
and not just because he’d felt responsible for getting her into this mess. It had come from
someplace deeper.

So they had a history. And he enjoyed her company. And seeing her in danger had ripped a hole in his gut.

But hell, fantasize about a woman for ten years and she’s gonna have an effect on you when
she comes unexpectedly back into your life. That simple.

So it was okay if he was a little bit captivated with her for the next couple of days. As he’d
already speculated, maybe he’d return to the mainland with a clear head, ready to get straight
back to work.

Of course, he had no idea how he’d get to Omega Man after this. And surely Omega had
dispatched more worker bees to pick up the artifacts by now. He’d blown this mission sky-
high, and there was probably no saving it at this point. But he’d still have to try. And he’d have a hell of a lot of explaining to do. Shit—his boss would not be happy.

Just then, he reached down to the side of his trunks, patting the pocket against his thigh to
make sure Francisco’s key still resided there. That key was the only chance left for this case—
he only had to hope it opened a sturdy enough lock on a sturdy enough door that getting
through without it would be a challenge. Knowing that Francisco had wanted the key badly
enough to come back to the island gave Brock a little optimism.

But was the key the reason they’d come the first time, when they’d blown up Kat’s boat? No,
Brock had been lying there “dead” and they didn’t come looking for it then. So what had brought them to the island that first time?

Maybe they’d seen him swim ashore, as he’d assumed at the time, yet he couldn’t help
feeling like he was missing something here—like there was more to the story.

But figuring it out would have to wait, he decided when Kat came walking back toward the beach through the surf. She was a page in a swimsuit calendar, a scene in one of those guy’s fantasy beer commercials. Only she was a lot more that that. Which made him offer a slight,
suggestive smile at the mere sight of her. When she smiled back, something contracted low in his belly.

As she sat down at the water’s edge, facing the ocean, he suffered a niggling disappointment
that she hadn’t rejoined him at the chairs. So much that he pushed to his feet, soon lowering himself to the wet sand beside her as a thin, shallow ridge of water washed up under them to
recede just as quickly.

“Short swim.” He leaned his forearms on bent knees.

“Just wanted to cool off,” she said, dragging her fingers absently through the sand between
them.

“You look good doing that.”
“Cooling off?”

He gave a short nod and let her see the heat in his eyes. “Kitten, you look pretty damn good
doing about anything. I never should have let you out of bed this morning.”

She let her grin go sexy, too, now swirling her fingers in sensual little circles in the wet sand.
“Afraid you won’t be able to get me back in it?”

He laughed. “No—just thinking how good your tan body looked against that white sheet.” In fact, he’d been just about to roll over and kiss her good morning when she’d eased out of bed,
slid one of her little strappy tops on with a pair of panties, and announced she was going
foraging for breakfast since the donuts were history. She’d found some stale Cheerios, then
made some toast and announced that breakfast was served. He’d joined her at the table, naked, hoping to entice her with that tattoo she seemed so fond of, but every time he’d caught her
sneaking a peek, she’d darted her gaze away.