Quick & Dangerous, page 4
The man was getting curious, though. He was subtle about it. She’d give him that. But as the night wore on, it was getting harder and harder to deflect his probing questions, especially when he busted out that Southern charm.
“How’s your rice?” he asked, having ordered himself a large pizza with extra arugula on it. At Skyler’s suggestion.
“It’s awesome,” she said between bites. “They’re extra generous with the pickled veg, which is really what makes nasi goreng.”
He scrunched up his nose. “Nasi is rice, right?”
She nodded. “And goreng means fried.”
“Ah. You’re a vegetarian, then? I noticed you didn’t order it with any meat. Or are you just trying to save money?”
“I’m a vegetarian.”
She had to stop herself from laughing out loud. Sure, she was playing the part of the starved backpacker, but in reality, she was loaded. Like crazy loaded. Her father had left her ten million dollars in his will, and she’d managed to make that sexy nest egg grow into something impressive.
Albeit at what cost?
She’d lost her mother because of it.
Nico was dead because of it.
She was on the run because of it.
She’d give away every penny if it meant she was no longer in danger and could see her mother again. Every damn cent.
But there was no going back. Her mother was dead, and Skyler was fighting for her life. She needed that money to keep her safe.
Only ever allowing herself to have one alcoholic beverage, she sipped on her Arak Attack, washing down the delicious fried rice. “We went on a field trip to a farm when I was a kid and I learned where hamburgers came from. Haven’t been able to touch meat since.”
Rob sipped his Old Fashioned. “My parents own a cattle ranch.”
Skyler blanched. “That’s …”
“A way of life,” he finished for her.
“I suppose it is.”
“So tell me, Scarlett … if that is your real name … where are you from?” His grin was big and boyish, and although his words were alarming, his soft brown eyes and the flush of his cheeks told her he was just playing.
“Where are you from, Roberto Cahill? If that is your real name?
If he wanted a challenge, he was going to get one. She was going to answer his question with a question until he stopped asking.
“Little town in Texas,” he said, laying on the drawl. “Your turn.”
She lifted one shoulder. “Same.”
Tossing his head back, he let out a whoop of a laugh. “So, we’re going to play it that way, are we, querida?”
Running her tongue over her bottom lip, she smiled at him. “Maybe.”
“Okay, then … what about your dad?”
“What about your dad?” she said sassily.
“He’s home in Texas making hamburgers,” he said with just as much sass back.
Oh, this was fun. Skyler’s face hurt from how hard she was smiling. “Funny, so is mine.”
“Really?” he asked, cocking one thick eyebrow.
She shrugged. “Maybe.”
Noise from out in the busier part of the bar drew their attention away from their little game. Rob became very still, his hand in a death grip around his fork and knife. Skyler’s pulse jacked up and her skin tingled.
Danger?
But the ruckus didn’t seem to be any more than a slew of new patrons, already well lubricated on libations, entering and looking for some fun.
The noise was beginning to get to her, as was the crowd. She’d always hated crowds, even before the shit show with Nico. When she was a kid, around eight or nine, Skyler and her mother had gone to watch the Tour de France. They were at a major checkpoint and the crowd was enormous. One person after another wedged their way between Skyler and her mother until, before they knew it, they were separated. It’d taken nearly half an hour for Skyler’s mother to find her again. And at that point, Skyler was a tearful mess who thought she was going to be lost forever.
Yeah, crowds were dangerous. People got robbed, trampled or snatched in big crowds.
“Want to get out of here?” Rob asked, nodding at a passing server. “I’m beat from travel, and crowds really aren’t my thing.” He pointed to his chest. “Not a people person, remember?”
Oh, thank God.
Nodding fervently, Skyler drained her drink and reached for her purse.
Not a moment too soon, either. Just as they were standing up to leave, another eight people with tanned faces and faint dive mask lines around their eyes walked in, hooping and hollering and calling for shots.
Skyler shuddered at the thought of being around so many people. She wouldn’t be able to hear herself think with all the noise, let alone remain out of all the selfies that seemed to always accompany drunk tourists.
“Ergh,” Rob said under his breath. “People.” He reached for her hand, and she let him take it. “Let’s go.”
Skyler practically skipped after him, letting him pull her down the path. “Lead the way, sir.”
His grin made her entire body tighten, particularly her nipples, which were probably beaming like headlights, seeing as she hadn’t bothered with a bra.
Rob’s eyes traveled down from her face to her chest, and although his smile didn’t grow, his pupils certainly did.
Merde.
Shit.
What had she been thinking, going braless?
Oh, that’s right, she hadn’t been thinking. At least not clearly. She was too drunk on shower orgasms and dirty thoughts of this sexy Texan doing unspeakably naughty things to her to remember that a bra was probably a good idea. Although she often went braless, or wore nothing more than a bikini top with zero support, she hadn’t really thought through the ramifications of such a dumb move until she was halfway down the beach and running toward him. If her breasts had been a cup larger, she would have given herself a black eye.
Twisting his lips to hide his smile from getting any wider or more obvious, he averted his eyes and tugged her along. “Let’s get you home and into bed.”
She stopped. “Pardon me?”
“You need to sleep. Big dive tomorrow, right?”
Oh Jesus. Her hormones were on overdrive right now. Not everything he said had an innuendo attached to it. Jeez.
They were still holding hands when they arrived at their bungalows. Somewhere down the beach, someone was playing the guitar, a sweet, unobtrusive melody with just the right tempo for a slow dance. The moon hung high in the clear sky, and geckos around the island sang their hiccupy song. In any other circumstance, it would have been the perfect end to a perfect date.
Releasing his hand, she glanced shyly down at her turquoise-painted toes. The man threw her off guard with those expressive eyes of his. She wanted to get lost in them. Get lost in Rob. Get lost in the night. But she couldn’t. They couldn’t.
Danger lurked around every corner, and this was not a date.
“So, thanks for dinner. You didn’t have to do that,” she said softly, turning to take a step up toward her cabin.
“It’s the least I could do for the warm welcome and helping me find a place to crash,” he said with a chuckle to his tone. “Besides, your meal was like five bucks. It’s not exactly going to break the bank.”
She spun around to face him. They were practically eye to eye now that she was up a couple of steps. The man was tall. She liked tall.
“Well, I owe you. I’ll grab the next meal.”
His eyes widened. “It’s a date.”
No. It wasn’t. And it never would be.
She made to go, but a big hand came into view right below her eye. Skyler froze. His finger poked her cheek.
What the hell? She jerked away, but his other hand grabbed her by the arm with scary fast reflexes. What exactly did he do for a living? What were those dog tags for? She remembered when he’d gone all weird and catatonic-like hearing that baby cry, and fear ratcheted through her. Oh God, they’d finally caught up with her. This was it. She’d been running all these years only to be taken down by a moment of weakness. She’d been wrong. What she thought had been trust and safety was actually a façade, a sham. He’d been playing her all day, gaining her trust only to get her when her guard was down and her heart was open.
Skyler’s breath rattled, and she trembled in his grasp. “Who are you?”
“Relax,” he breathed, his face now less than a foot from hers. His brown eyes glowed almost gold in the moonlight. “I’m not going to hurt you, querida. You’re safe with me.”
“Let. Go,” she said through gritted teeth.
His grip on her arm softened, but he didn’t release her. Then the same finger that’d poked her cheek came in front of her lips. “Eyelash. Make a wish.”
I wish to be saved from this madness. I wish for peace. I wish for safety. I wish for love.
Skyler swallowed, closed her eyes tight and blew.
Chapter 5
Rob
Skin soaked in sweat and pulse racing, Rob bolted up in bed.
Where was he?
He didn’t recognize the room, didn’t recognize the smell or sounds.
What he did hear was a wailing baby. Screaming for help.
He could help her. He had to. He had to save her.
Tossing his legs over the side of the bed, he shoved the gauzy mosquito net out of the way and stepped onto the cool wood floorboards.
There it was again. A long, lone wail.
He was at the window in two big strides, throwing open the drapes. It was still dark out.
Where was he?
Grabbing his gun from his nightstand, and not bothering with his shoes, he opened the front door. He had to find that baby. She was obviously in distress. Someone was hurting her.
His brain still hadn’t completely woken up, and images of the baby in Peru—the one he couldn’t save—flashed behind his eyes.
Stopping on the cool grass, he pressed the heal of his palm into his eyes. This wasn’t Peru. It didn’t smell like Peru, didn’t feel like Peru. Where was he?
Gun cocked, he let his eyes adjust to the darkness. He’d always had impeccable night vision.
He crept around behind his cabin, then continued on down behind the other ones in the row. The infant’s wailing grew louder, more desperate.
Picking up his pace, he followed the noise.
Another long, low cry. This one less frantic and more … defeated?
Ducking behind a closed and dark restaurant, he paused. The noise, the baby, she was here. He knew it. Now he just had to find her.
Peering around the trash bins, stacked crates and bushels of coconuts, he braced himself for the worst. He’d seen the worst, but after everything he’d witnessed in his years as a SEAL, things could always get even worse.
Suddenly, and nearly knocking him off his feet, a cat darted out from behind a tower of crates.
“Fuck,” Rob breathed, spinning to face the cat. “You little bastard.”
The cat stopped and faced him, then it stretched and let out the most painful, nails-on-a-chalkboard-sounds-like-a-baby-in-distress cry Rob had ever heard in his life.
“Motherfucking cat. It was you.”
The feline blinked up at him, its eyes glowing a haunting yellow in the moonlight. It was mangy-looking, with a kinked tail and patches of fur missing. But it wasn’t emaciated. It looked like it got three square meals a day—and then some. Probably lived behind the restaurant and pilfered scraps from the trash.
Shaking his head, he made to go, cursing the stupid animal as well as himself for being so gullible … so broken. Not every sound was a baby in pain. Not every cry was a child needing to be saved.
Making his way back to his cabin, he heard the cat wail again. This time it was met with another wail—another cat—from somewhere else on the island.
Good. They fucking deserved each other.
Trudging up his steps, he realized he’d left his door wide open.
Fuck. He really needed to get a grip. These dreams, these memories were killing him.
He wandered back over to the bed and sat down, closed his eyes and placed the heels of his palms against his closed lids.
It was a dream.
It was a fucking cat.
He wasn’t in Peru anymore.
But he also wasn’t home.
“You need to have a routine that you follow when these dreams happen,” his therapist had said. “Whether it be as simple as getting up, going to another room and getting a drink of water, or as elaborate as heading out for a run to clear your head, you need to do something to take you out of the dream. Take yourself out of that moment and plant yourself back in the now. Meditation is a good one. Even ten minutes of meditation a day can help with PTSD immensely. Pick a mantra that speaks to you and repeat it.”
“Out loud?” Rob had asked.
Dr. Boyd shrugged. “Or in your head. Whichever you prefer. But make sure the words resonate with you. Make sure they’re something you believe in.”
“I am here,” he said quietly, still sitting on the edge of the bed. “I am here. I am alive.” In through the nose, out through the mouth he breathed. “I am here. I am alive. I can’t save them all, but that does not mean I’ve failed. I am here. I am alive. I can’t save them all, but that does not mean I’ve failed.” Over and over again he said the words. Said them into the dark. Said them into the quiet. Said them to no one but himself until his breathing slowed and his brain calmed.
He was here. He was alive.
When Rob finally opened his eyes, the first signs of daylight were peeking in through the curtains. The sound of the adhan, or call to prayer at the mosque in the middle of the island, was low and soothing, and the faint shuffling sounds of local islanders making their way to work or prayer could be heard in the distance.
His watch said it was five o’clock. He still had plenty of time before the dive to go for a run and clear his head a bit more. The cool morning air and exercise would do him good. Exorcise the demons and dreams and prepare him for the day.
It’d been a good dive day. Even though Rob could have gone out and dived on his own and done just fine, he enjoyed Skyler’s company. She knew her stuff, and even though she’d only be on the island a short time, she already held a familiarity with the other dive masters and boat captain that could only come from someone who was naturally a people person. It was probably killing her, having to remain on guard and not make friends as she bounced around the world on the run. Meanwhile, that lifestyle suited Rob just fine. Having too many friends was overrated. He needed just a solid one or two who he knew would always have his back, and he’d have theirs in return.
He and Skyler had laughed and joked on the boat ride out to the site, and then their time in the water had also been a blast. And it didn’t suck following her around underwater, her taut little body tucked up in that tight wet suit that left very little to the imagination. Particularly that rocking ass. And the fact that she’d gone braless last night had forced Rob to take matters into his own hand once again the next morning during his post-run shower.
Had she gone braless on purpose? What was her angle?
Whatever her angle was, it was wreaking havoc on Rob’s self-control.
She was a job. He had to keep reminding himself of that.
They’d agreed to grab dinner again, only this time Rob wanted something more intimate and private. He couldn’t keep who he was or why he’d been after her a secret any longer. If his parents’ forty-five-year marriage had taught him anything, it was that secrets, no matter what they were, always came out. But it was how they came out and who revealed them that made all the difference.
He went back to the Barracuda and ordered a bunch of dishes to go, then stopped at the corner store for some water and juice. He tossed everything into the small backpack he used for day trips and made his way back to her bungalow. It was closing in on seven thirty, and already the sun was hanging low in the sky. That was one thing he didn’t like about being so close to the equator—the days were short.
He’d lifted his fist to knock on her door when it swung open.
“Heard your big clodhoppers thumping up the stairs,” she said with a sexy smile. “I take it your speciality was not stealth when you were a”—she waved at his dog tags— “man on a mission.”
His lip curled up at one side. “I’m stealthy when I need to be.”
She rolled her eyes and shut the door behind herself. “Sure, sure.” They fell in line with each other and walked casually down the path. “So where would you like to go tonight? The Turtle Air has thirty thousand Rupiah tacos until nine o’clock. Vegetarian and meat.”
“What’s the conversion?” he asked.
“Roughly about three bucks U.S., give or take.”
He nodded. “Maybe another time. I went and bought a bunch of dishes from the Barracuda earlier and thought we might head down the beach to a private spot and have a picnic.”
He turned to face her, even slowed his speed so he could get a real read on her expression. She seemed wary. But interested.
Slowly nodding, she shook off the unease and smiled. “I know just the spot.”
“Lead the way, Miss Scarlett.”
In less than five minutes, they were set up on the beach. He’d brought a few towels, and they were elbow deep in gado gado and mie goreng when he decided to go for it.
He tipped up his water bottle, took a long, healthy sip and fixed her with a face he hoped was equal parts serious and nonthreatening. “So, I have to come clean.”
“You’re actually a dive instructor and have just been yanking my chain?” she asked with a chuckle, taking a sip of her own water.
“Well … I am a trained diver, yes. But that’s not what I mean. I know who you are.”
Unease flooded her face. Her pupils dilated and her jaw clenched. She was getting ready to flee.
“I know you’re Skyler McAllister.”
Her hand shook as she put her water bottle down. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, buddy.” Her voice quavered as she tried to laugh away his discovery.
