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Authors: Becky Barker

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #General

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BOOK: Undercover Virgin
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They shared a comfortable silence, passing the time listening to music and studying the darkness beyond the windows of the car. Rianna had picked up a map at the rest area, so she navigated them through southern
Kentucky
. By daybreak, they were nearing their destination.

"Where are we heading now?"

"I think
Somerset
is one of the largest towns in the lake area," she said. "It's not too big, but it offers the basics. If I remember correctly, there are several docks, and check-in times at the marinas are about the same as most hotels."

"
Marina
?"

"I'm planning to rent a houseboat if there's one available," she explained, glancing at him and wondering if he was going to bail out on her now. "The lake is huge, so you can disappear for days at a time without anyone checking up on you."

"You can actually stay out on the water?"

"It's been years since I was there, but I remember cruising around until we needed to refuel. At night, we'd set the anchor near the shoreline and stay put. Either way, you avoid contact with civilization."

"You've vacationed there in the past?"

"Once, a long time ago." The thought made her melancholy, but she tried to shrug it off. "How about you? Are you interested in staying or do you want to head on home? I don't see any possible way I can be traced now, so you don't need to feel obligated."

"I said I'll stick with you until Sullivan makes other arrangements."

"What about your family? Do you need to get home to a wife or kids or a partner of some sort?"

Tremont threw her a rakish grin. "'Partner of some sort'?"

"Partner, as in significant other or anyone who expects you home soon."

"Fishing for more details about my private life?"

The man really could be maddening. Rianna gritted her teeth. "I think it's important that I know the basics," she insisted.

"What you see is what you get," he finally said. "I don't have to account to anyone for my whereabouts. Not even Sullivan, since I already honored my promise to help you escape Haroldson's estate."

"No regular job? Are you one of those independently wealthy men who
risks
his life for kicks?"

Tremont's gruff chuckle rippled over Rianna like a sweet, sexy melody. Her heart thudded uncharacteristically. She scolded herself for the foolish reaction, realizing how desperately she needed sleep.

"I'm not rich, that's for sure. Unless you count the fact that I own my own little place. I'm self-employed. Nothing out of the ordinary."

No way would Rianna ever consider this man ordinary. He might prefer to think of himself that way, but she couldn't.

"Do you know anything about boating or fishing?"

"Not much."

Neither did she, but they were intelligent, resourceful adults. They could learn.

Conversation lagged as they covered the last hundred miles of their journey. The sun was rising behind them as they reached the outskirts of
Somerset
.

Their first stop was another convenience store and refueling station. They filled the gas tank and bought souvenir T-shirts. Then they freshened up with a change of shirts to cut the risk of being recognized. They'd drastically changed their looks since leaving the coast, but it didn't hurt to cover every angle.

Next they found a small roadside restaurant and took their time over breakfast and coffee. When the place started to get crowded, they drove into town. Rianna asked Tremont to stop at the local post office.

He stayed in the car while she rented a post office box and bought two padded envelopes. In one, she mailed herself extra cash and a fake driver's license at her personal P.O. box, knowing the post office was the safest place to hide it in case of another emergency.

She used the second envelope to mail all her jewelry to her adoptive
aunt
Margaret's address in
Maine
. It was a risk to mail anything so valuable, but the necklace, bracelet and rings were all gifts from Gregory. They held no sentimental value. If she ever got a chance to sell them, she'd make good use of the money, but she wouldn't be destitute if the jewelry got damaged or lost.

They spent the next couple of hours driving around the town and familiarizing themselves with the area. When the stores finally opened, they purchased additional clothing, more groceries and a few other necessities.

Rianna found a brochure with information on boat rentals, so she called several marinas until she found one with a recent cancellation. After learning that a houseboat was available immediately, they headed for the lake.

"What's the name of the place?" asked Tremont.

"It's called Beaver Creek Resort, and it's near
Monticello
. There are several marinas with docks and fuel stations, but the only one with
an availability
is Beaver Creek. This is the height of their tourist season, so we got lucky. I think they said they have one good-size houseboat for rent."

"What's good-size?"

She showed him the picture in the brochure. "There are several types, each in a different price range with different amenities and the capacity to sleep a different number of people. I guess ours is over sixty feet long.

"According to the brochure, it features a galley with a gas stove, refrigerator, running water, generator, central heat, AC, microwave, electric lights, deck furniture, gas grill, swimming ladder, power steering, and a sliding board off the top deck."

Tremont whistled softly. "Sounds like a small yacht, and looks like it must be top of the line."

"Nope, top of the line is a lot bigger, sleeps more people and costs more."

He shot a glance at her. "
Which brings up the question of how we're going to pay for this rental.
I don't carry around that sort of cash, we can't charge it to Uncle Sam, and we sure can't use plastic."

"I have several thousand dollars' worth of cash with me," she told him, earning herself another, longer, sharper look. "When I moved in with Gregory, he insisted on giving me an allowance and buying me designer clothes. I've been hoarding the money and even selling a few designer gowns."

His laugh wasn't pleasant. "So your lover is paying for our little hideout."

Rianna managed to keep her temper reined, but just barely. "He and all the people he's swindled out of money, including Uncle Sam," she returned succinctly.

The reminder of Haroldson cranked the tension between them again, so they grew silent, speaking only about directions. The road that led to the marina was sharply winding, and they drove downhill at a forty-five-degree angle for more than fifteen minutes before Tremont complained.

"You're sure this dock isn't in
China
?" he asked, as they kept going downward, mile after mile, in the seemingly endless spiral of a roller coaster.

"I told you the lake was carved out of solid rock. It takes a while to get down to the water."

She hoped the high rock walls would be an added barrier between them and Gregory's far-reaching network of criminals.

Chapter 4

«
^
»

T
he marina came into view just as she finished explaining, and she caught her breath at the sight. There were boats in all sizes and shapes. Some were moored while others were coming or going on the water. The whole place was bigger, more modern and a lot more commercial than she remembered, but the overall beauty still held her in awe.

Her heart thudded heavily in her chest as emotion ballooned inside her. She could visualize her parents holding hands, laughing and teasing while her brother chased after them, always skipping and chattering. There hadn't been many happy, carefree times for her family, but they'd shared one wonderful week here.

The precious memories brought a lump to her throat and a rush of rare tears to her eyes. She swiftly blinked them away as Tremont parked the car.

He turned more fully toward her, and Rianna knew he sensed a change in her. His demeanor underwent a subtle change, too.

She clenched her teeth and turned her head to avoid his probing gaze. She hated feeling so emotionally fragile. The memories were private and cherished, so she kept them carefully guarded in her heart.

"You okay?"

She wanted to allay his concern by responding in a crisp, no-nonsense fashion, but her voice failed her. To cover her awkwardness and give herself more time, she grabbed her bag and searched for a wallet. Once she'd found it, she opened the door and climbed from the car without a word.

Tremont got out of the car and followed her toward the marina. "Better tell me how we're registering," he insisted.

That had her pausing to regroup. She swallowed the last of her silly tears and turned to him. "Think we can get by with separate names and IDs?"

"Sure, it's common practice these days. We don't have to pretend we're married. We can just be lovers," he explained, his eyes challenging her to refute.

The suggestion sent a shiver of awareness over her, but she
humphed
, pretending the idea was too annoying to consider.

Since she was handling the money, the houseboat was rented under the alias Donna Elise Simons. The normal check-in time wasn't until
three p.m.
, but due to the last-minute cancellation, their boat was ready to be boarded.

They left the car in a hillside parking area and hauled everything onto the boat. A dock attendant gave them a quick tour and basic watercraft instructions. Shortly after
noon
, they were casting off and making their way toward less congested waters.

Rianna quickly accustomed herself to the hum of the engine and its steady vibration as they glided over water as smooth as glass. The sun shone brightly, making everything sparkle with a freshness that soothed her nerves within minutes.

Tremont settled behind the steering wheel, just inside the combined living room and kitchen area. He wore a short-sleeved blue T-shirt that made his pale eyes look darker and deeper. She alternately admired the beauty all around them and his physique. His shoulders and chest were broad, the strength in his arms apparent as he easily maneuvered the big boat.

His thighs, encased in tight, worn jeans, also contracted with solid muscle. The rest of him was lean and just as appealing. She silently admonished herself for mental drooling and tried to concentrate on the water.

"It really is gorgeous here, isn't
it.
"

"Yeah, and probably one of the last places Haroldson would expect his high-society lover to hide."

"I'm not really, you know," she insisted. At his searching glance, she bit back the words she'd almost blurted in self-defense. Knowing it was safer to let him believe she had the morals of an alley cat, she rephrased her response. "I'm not really a high-society type."

"If you say so," he muttered.

All of a sudden, Rianna felt the strength drain from her limbs. Exhaustion overtook her with unexpected speed and force. She stared blankly at the water, then Tremont.

"Something wrong?" he asked, concern creasing his brows.

"I'm tired."

His laugh sounded more like an abrupt bark. "I'll bet you are. You've been running on nothing but caffeine and nerves for days. Ready to crash?"

"Yes" was all she said. Then she moved toward the sleeping compartments, her feet and limbs feeling like lead. She fell across the first bed she found and dropped off to sleep within seconds.

* * *

Kyle spent the rest of the afternoon learning his way around the lake. A map hung above the steering compartment that displayed the overall size and shape of the waterways, but he needed to get his bearings.

Over one hundred miles long, the lake had winding waterways that covered sixty-three thousand surface acres with twelve hundred miles of wooded shoreline.

The entire shoreline was dotted with
sandybeach
coves surrounded by twelve-foot-high, boulder-strewn banks. They'd been told that boaters could drop anchor in the coves to picnic, swim or fish during the day and to sleep at night. He liked the idea of being able to find
their own
private niche.

When hunger and thirst eventually had him stirring from his perch at the helm, he let the boat idle and went to check on Rianna. He found her sprawled, facedown, on one of the double beds. She was down for the count.

The total abandon of her position made his stomach muscles clench. Her slim, pale arms were flung, spread-eagle, across the mattress. A wedge of creamy skin was exposed at the small of her back. Her jeans-clad rump was slightly elevated, and he had an insane urge to crawl into bed and wake her with caresses.

"Whoa, boy."

He issued the soft, urgent warning to his body as blood began to pool in his groin. An unexpected arousal burgeoned against the zipper of his jeans, pulsing to life and sucking the air from his lungs.

Heat crept up his neck as he fought the temptation to slide his body over hers and wake her with greedy hands and mouth. He wanted to explore every dip and curve of her feminine form, and lose himself in her softness. The urge was so primitive and shocking in its force that he shuddered. What the hell had prompted the sudden, intense hunger?

It was the ultimate in stupidity—a risk neither of them could afford. Kyle shook his head to rid it of lecherous thoughts. As tempting as he found his sexy partner, he couldn't afford to get any more involved with her.

Instead, he slowly slipped her shoes off her feet and eased her more fully onto the bed. She didn't so much as flinch, testimony to how soundly she slept.

He soothed himself with a cold beer, and then another, as he tried to shove Rianna from his thoughts. She'd probably sleep through the night, so he was left to his own devices. Normally, he preferred his own company, but her proximity kept him restless.

After slapping together a couple of sandwiches, he washed the meal down with a third beer, his personal limit,
then
went back to the helm. He found a cove to anchor in for the evening, where he could do some fishing. By the time dark had fallen, he was ready to call it a night himself.

He secured the front and back doors, and then carried his bag to the small compartment opposite the one Rianna had chosen. The bathroom was smaller than a phone booth, but Kyle showered, brushed his teeth and donned a pair of clean sweatpants.

After steeling himself to check on his companion again, he grabbed a blanket and covered her lightly, then quickly retreated to his own full-size bunk. He didn't expect to drop off easily, but the soothing sounds of the country night and gentle rocking of the boat soon lulled him to sleep.

* * *

The rising sun coaxed him out of bed the next morning, and Kyle quickly checked on Rianna. She was still fast asleep, but she'd apparently been up during the night. She'd shed her jeans and crawled under the covers, leaving only one long, bare leg exposed. The sight of the slim calf and thigh caused his blood pressure to rise, so he swiftly shifted his attention to her upper body.

His eyes widened a little as he studied her head. The red hair, obviously another a wig, was gone, tossed aside like lifeless vermin. In its place was a cap of light brown hair that parted down the middle and curved across her cheek. It looked as soft and shiny as corn silk.

Something inside him went soft, too, as he glimpsed yet another layer of the woman. Both the elegant blonde and the brassy redhead had been fascinating, but easily abandoned. Now Rianna looked sweet and natural and so desirable that he had to fight another fierce shaft of desire.

The real woman was slowly being revealed, like a flower opening its petals, and each new revelation intrigued him more. He wondered if her personality would undergo a similar transformation. She'd be experiencing an emotional letdown, so it would be a while before she even recognized her own personality. Not much use in speculating.

With that thought, he moved into the kitchen area and brewed a pot of coffee. While it was perking, he watched the early sunshine glisten on the water. A light morning haze hung on the air, but there were no other watercraft to disturb the view—just soothing, unblemished isolation.

It looked as though they'd have another warm, calm day on the lake. Maybe he'd swim in lieu of his usual run. Or maybe he'd check out paths along the upper bank. It was always good to have an escape route, however safe and isolated the location.

When the coffee was ready, he filled a cup and turned toward the narrow hallway. Rianna materialized in the doorway and they collided with a soft
thud
. She fell against him like a limp rag, her face buried against his shoulder. Kyle clutched her close with his left arm while he set down his cup. Then he tentatively rested his right hand at the small of her back.

Instead of moving out of his grasp, she burrowed closer, like a sleepy child. Her arms encircled his waist, a ring of fire that seared him
The
feminine warmth and scent of her made his pulse leap wildly, and his body come to full sexual alert.

"Coffee. I smell coffee," she mumbled innocently against his shirt.

The feel of her mouth moving against him, even through the cloth, made his muscles clench with excitement. Her breasts pressed into his chest, branding him with erotic fire.

He closed his eyes, savoring the sensual pull,
then
took a deep breath. He wanted to lock her tightly in his arms, ravage her mouth with his own until he'd forced her to wake up and accept the consequences of her actions.

Desire raged through him as Rianna drifted back to sleep in his arms. She obviously wasn't a morning person. Kyle clenched his jaws in frustration. He considered carrying her back to bed and having his way with her. As much as the idea appealed, he wasn't the sort of man who took advantage of women, especially vulnerable ones.

That didn't mean he couldn't enjoy having her close, he thought.

He tightened his grip, pulling her body snug against his own. A moan escaped him at the exquisite feel. Rianna moaned, too, then suddenly went rigid in his arms. Kyle grinned as her head jerked backward, and she stared at him in sleepy confusion.

He slowly loosened his hold on her. She eased her grip on his midsection, allowing her enough room to splay her hands on his chest. More heat.

"What?" she muttered huskily.

"You came in search of coffee and ran into me."

"You're—" she began, then cleared the huskiness from her throat and licked her lips.

Kyle wanted to suck each glistening lip between his own and then devour her whole mouth. The need was so strong that he had to fight for control. How the hell had he gotten so needy?

"You're very hard," she finally managed to say.

And getting harder with each breath he took. "It's a morning thing," he supplied.

Her brows puckered, lashes sweeping upward as the drowsiness cleared from her eyes. As she came more fully awake, she began to withdraw.

"A guy thing," she clarified for them both,
then
stepped out of his reach.

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry if I made it harder."

Kyle watched a rosy blush steal up her neck and over her cheeks as she realized what she'd just suggested. The flustered color made her all the more alluring.

"I'll survive," he teased, then decided to give them both a break from the escalating tension. "I just need some coffee."

"Coffee
,
"
Rianna
parroted
.

He reached for his cup, sipped it to see if it was still warm, and then downed the whole thing. Maybe the caffeine would knock some strength back into his knees.

After she filled her own cup, she refilled his.

"Thanks," he said. "I was just heading outside to welcome the morning. Care to join me?"

"Sure," she said,
then
preceded him through the narrow hallway between their sleeping compartments.

Kyle reached around her to unlock the door, held it open while she passed through, and closed it behind them.

BOOK: Undercover Virgin
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