Part 27 (1/2)

Suddenly nervous about making a good impression, she called out as she came up the gangplank. ”Hey, I'm a little early. I hope you don't mind.”

No answer.

Tentative, Kyra stepped on to the boat, which rocked gently with the water, b.u.t.ting up against the pier. She called out again and walked the length of the craft. On her second pa.s.s, she glimpsed the shadow of someone coming from be lowdecks. Then a male silhouette swung into view.

Before she ever saw his face, she knew by the way he moved. All the breath ran out of her in a little oof oof , as if he'd punched her in the chest. Reyes looked a little thinner, but still tall, still imposing. His knife-blade cheekbones seemed sharper, his eyes blacker than sin, and lacking all softness. He gazed at her for a long moment in silence. , as if he'd punched her in the chest. Reyes looked a little thinner, but still tall, still imposing. His knife-blade cheekbones seemed sharper, his eyes blacker than sin, and lacking all softness. He gazed at her for a long moment in silence.

”You,” she said.

”Me.”

”How did you find me?”

When I told you not to. She wasn't sure if that was what she still wanted. It had been nearly two months. Seeing him roused a painful ache. It twisted through her like a cyclone, leaving wreckage in its wake. She wasn't sure if that was what she still wanted. It had been nearly two months. Seeing him roused a painful ache. It twisted through her like a cyclone, leaving wreckage in its wake.

”Technically,” he murmured, ”you found me.”

G.o.d, he was so remote, so distant. Even the sunlight didn't seem to warm him; it merely glazed his raven hair with blue. He wore nothing but a pair of white swim trunks, slung low. They revealed the taut slope of his abdomen, the hollow of his hip. She felt like she could eat him with her eyes and tried not to show it.

”Semantics. Answer the question.”

”I was surprised to hear from Foster. He had a message for me-”

”Mia,” she guessed.

Reyes nodded. ”I called her. We . . . talked.”

Kyra winced. She could only imagine what her friend might've said. Please don't let him know I've been crying in my sleep. Please don't let him know I've been crying in my sleep.

”And? What did she say?”

”That she had reservations about putting you back in touch with someone like me, and that if I ever hurt you again, she'd hunt me down and kill me.” His expression said he took Mia seriously-as well he should.

”Oh,” Kyra said in a small voice. ”Anything else?”

”She asked if I knew anyone who could help you take a little money to Barbados, and she said she thought we had unfinished business. We came to an agreement.”

”You? Mia hired you you ? Knowing that you once tried to kill me.” She'd smack her friend the next time she saw her. Jesus. Talk about not needing enemies. ? Knowing that you once tried to kill me.” She'd smack her friend the next time she saw her. Jesus. Talk about not needing enemies.

”Not exactly,” he said in a voice so soft and low she almost lost the words amid the slosh of the waves. ”I do pro bono work sometimes, but this is more a labor of love. And let's be clear, Kyra. I never tried to hurt you. I was hired to, but almost from the moment I saw you, it was something else. Foster was counting on that.”

She closed her eyes, shutting out the bleak intensity of his eyes. Though he hadn't moved-he was eerie in his stillness-the angle of his hands gave her the impression he was fighting in silence not to reach out.

”How can I ever trust you?” Kyra gave a shuddery sigh. ”I wish-I wish we could turn back the clock. I wish you hadn't lied. I wish you were just that drifter I picked up, who made me feel like the most important person in the world.”

”You are,” he said quietly. ”I came from Thailand for you, because Mia said she could probably get you here. I'd have come from Zimbabwe, Outer Mongolia, or a prison in Central America. In truth, I came through h.e.l.l getting here . . . because for me that's anywhere you're not.”

”Oh, Rey,” she whispered, and put out her hands.

His fingers twined with hers and he drew her to him with exquisite tenderness, as if she were a dove that could die of fright in his hands. But that wasn't what she wanted. She stretched up and fisted her hands in his hair, pulling his mouth to hers.

He tasted of French vanilla coffee, rich and sweet. This powerful man trembled against her. He smelled of sea and suns.h.i.+ne, layered with a kiss of citrus. Kyra had never wanted anything more than his bare skin against hers.

She broke away, breathless. ”Is there a cabin?”

Kyra knew he wasn't Prince Charming. If anything, he was the prince of darkness. He had a record and a history of violence, but he'd never hurt her on purpose. She knew that now. And if it hadn't been for Foster's machinations, she would never have met him.

”Yes. We'll be several days on the ocean . . . if you're going with me.” His dark eyes said she had a choice-that he'd walk away and let her go, even if it killed him.

Like h.e.l.l.

”Not if.” She punctuated the words with a feathery kiss. ”When. But I want you first. I need you. I haven't been touched in nearly two months, and I miss you. I miss being part of you.”

”Kyra,” he said, touching his brow to hers. ”You never stopped.”

A little moan escaped her because her whole body streamed with warmth. It was almost too much. She tugged at his hand because she could could . She was just a woman with him. His woman. . She was just a woman with him. His woman.

In answer, he swung her into his arms and navigated the ramp that led down into the cabin. They pa.s.sed through a tiny galley, an equally small dining area with the table folded down, and into the berth. Reyes tossed her onto the blue-patterned bedspread.

”I don't think I'll have much patience,” he warned with a tight smile.

She moved her shoulders in a shrug. ”Then it'll be like the first time.”

”Better. Because I know you now.”

His hands moved on her, shaping the lines over her body. With his lips he found each new freckle, licking a path that drove her wild and left her writhing on the bed. Her bikini top disappeared with a twist of his clever fingers and he bent his head to her breast, his mouth full of heat and homage. With each touch, each brush of his lips, he said: You are the only woman in the world. The sun rises and falls with you.

She s.h.i.+vered in reaction as he worked the denim down her hips. The spandex of her suit was damp already; he had her twisting with need. Quickly she skinned the bottoms off and tugged at his trunks, but he slid down, his jaw sc.r.a.ping tender skin.

”What happened to not having much patience?” she demanded, as he rubbed his open mouth against her belly.

He gave an eloquent shrug, touching his lips to hers, petal soft. Then his tongue slid and delved. She cried out, pleasure spreading like fireworks along her nerves. Kyra cupped his head in her hands, and urged him on. With a fierce and devastating hunger, he devoured her, nuzzling her through one o.r.g.a.s.m, and then two. Her hips bucked, and she arched against his mouth, open to him, and wanting more.

When she felt boneless and spent, he slid upward, their skin sweat-slick. His weight pressed her down into the mattress. Dizzy and blissful, she heard him rummaging. A crinkle of foil, then he came into her, inch by delicious inch. Hard and hot, filling her up. Kyra felt the throb of his blood pulsing through him.

Nothing had ever been like this. Ever.

Instead of going wild inside her, he lay down, precious in his stillness, as if he wanted to imprint the feel of her body beneath him in case the memory had to last. Only after she, too tantalized for further patience, began to work her hips, did he move.