drying on the line. Cate ought to have been thinking about how she’d almost been killed by a truck, but instead, all she could think about was Tack’s hard body against hers, how every nerve ending in her body seemed to come alive. It felt like her body had been sleeping, and now, suddenly, every cell was awake, and they all wanted one thing. All she wanted to do was to press herself closer to him, to wrap her arms around his back and feel his sturdiness. She could feel his chest rise and fall and wondered if he felt it, too, this electric rush, this sudden, powerful want.
As she glanced up at his face, she saw his brown eyes studying hers, his eyebrows crinkled with worry.
“Are you okay?” he asked, keeping his body against hers, his bulk still protecting her from the rush of traffic behind him.
Considering all she wanted to do right at that moment was stand on her tiptoes and see if she could taste his lips, she already knew the answer to that question. I might never be okay again.
TACK WAS ALL too aware of Cate’s body against his, warm and pliant. The way she was looking at him right now made him want to kiss the life out of her, to make her moan with want. Nothing like a life-or-death situation to speed up the libido, he thought, but then wondered if saving her from a speeding truck had anything to do with the fact that he didn’t want to take his hands off her.
Her green eyes studied him, her pink lips parted as he waited for an answer.
“I...I’m fine,” she managed to say, but never broke eye contact. He’d always been able to read women, a talent he’d learned early when overnight in high school he’d grown a foot and put on thirty pounds of muscle. They’d gone from ignoring him to waiting at his locker, giggling and blushing all the while.
He could swear the way she craned her neck, the way she leaned into him, she wanted him. The thought sent a thrill down his spine. She wanted him. He had her pinned against the minibus, but she made no move to flee. Her eyes told him she wanted to stay right where she was.
The deep-seated satisfaction this little revelation brought him surprised even him. He wanted her to want him. He’d felt the desire to put his hands on her since he saw her waiting for him at the baggage claim.
He felt drawn closer to her and before he knew it, he was just inches away from her lips. All he’d have to do was drop down a little more...and he’d be kissing her. He wondered what she tasted like. He wanted to find out.
But he couldn’t. Not now.
With great reluctance, he pulled himself away. He saw a flicker of disappointment in her eyes. She wanted that kiss as much as I did. There was no doubt in Tack’s mind.
And then, another, not-so-nice thought popped into his mind. I could use that.
He wasn’t proud of himself for it. Didn’t like how the thought felt oily in his mind, but it was the truth. He had to use every advantage he had. He knew that better than anyone.
Tack watched Cate as she scurried to pick up the wrench and carried it back to the van. He reached out and grabbed the flat, easily lifting it and putting it underneath the carriage where the spare had been. They both climbed back into the minibus.
“Uh...we’re not too far from the resort,” she said, not looking him in the eye, a blush creeping up the side of her cheek as she settled into the driver’s seat once more.
Cate’s mobile phone came to life then, blaring an easy Caribbean tune, and Tack saw her grab the phone from her pocket. “Mark?” she breathed into the phone. “Yes, I’m on the way. Just had a flat, but...” She paused, listening. “No, a guest helped me change it.” For the briefest of seconds, Cate met Tack’s gaze and a deep blush swept her neck as she swiftly looked away. She might as well have been telling him how she felt about their almost-kiss. He wondered how a woman who wore her emotions so clearly on her face could plot to kill her husband, steal from him and flee the country with his only son. She looked to him like an open book.
Which was probably what made her so very dangerous.
Cate glanced away and pressed the phone to her ear. “We’re fine...Really...We’ll be there in two minutes...I will. I promise...Okay. Bye.”
She tucked the phone in her pocket and smiled sheepishly at Tack. “That’s my current business partner. He...” She paused. “He was just checking up on me. Wondering what was taking so long.”
“Protective?” More like possessive, Tack thought and then wondered why he felt a pang of jealousy.
“He just worries about me.” She smiled at Tack in the rearview mirror, but her answer didn’t make him feel any better. A man who called when a woman was ten minutes late from the airport had to be more than a business partner.
“Sounds like he cares about you. Boyfriend?” he asked, and wondered why the word felt so bitter on his tongue.
A laugh burst from Cate, and she shook her head. “Oh, no. Mark’s happily married. His wife, Carol, helps me run the resort, and they’ve got a fifteen-year-old daughter, Grace, who is an amazing high diver. Might even try to get a scholarship in the States.” Cate guided the minibus around the cliff bank and then took a right turn into what seemed like jungle.
The tightness in Tack’s chest eased.
“So, he’s not the boyfriend. Dating someone else? Or are you married?” Technically, he already knew she was divorced. Rick Allen had filed for divorce in her absence and had the courts push it through about a year ago.
Cate didn’t even flinch. “God, no,” she said, and laughed, flicking her long blond hair over one shoulder. The laugh sounded so genuine. “Too busy being a single mom,” she said lightly. No trace of irony in that at all.
“Oh, how old is your child?”
“He’s four,” she said, and he could hear the pride in her voice. “He’s an amazing swimmer. And so very sweet.”
“It’s probably none of my business, but...what happened to his dad?” Tack watched Cate carefully, studying her reflection in the rearview mirror and trying to pick up on any signs of discomfort, of deceit. Her narrow shoulders stiffened ever so slightly, he noted, but she kept her expression neutral.
“He died,” Cate said, voice flat. Her foot nudged the accelerator a little bit more. Seemed like she might want to get to the resort a bit faster.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No. It’s okay.” Cate shrugged and then turned, throwing an almost too-bright smile over one tanned shoulder. “Looks like we’re here.”
Tack glanced out the window and realized they’d taken a turn and were now out of the thick brush and into a cleared parking lot, with a three-story, white brick hotel sitting about a hundred yards from the pristine beach. The blue-green water of the Caribbean sparkled in the sunlight, and a sole, mature palm tree offered shade for a few empty white lounge chairs. Beyond that lay a boat moored at a long wooden dock. Tack could just make out the name painted on the stern: Lost and Found.
Indeed, Cate Allen, he thought as he looked at the lithe blonde who shut off the minibus’s engine.
