Burn: A Novel Read online

  She’d been standing with Faith and Cael, making enough conversation to give the impression that she and Faith were at least friendly acquaintances, smiling enough at Cael to give another impression entirely. For once Cael didn’t have a death grip on her elbow, mainly because he’d been forced to release her to shake hands with someone Faith introduced him to. Afterward she’d linked her arm through his, so he wouldn’t suffer from anxiety and his issues with trust—namely a complete lack thereof. She had leaned against him very slightly, tilting her head to smile up at him, hugged his arm to her breasts. In short, she’d acted like a besotted fool.

  The captain, Emilio Lamberti, was making an amusing little speech in a charming Italian accent, and they were listening to him. Half-listening, anyway. As it was at most cocktail parties, the din of conversation had died down only a little when he began speaking.

  Then, in one of those almost-accidents that happen in crowds, Jenner heard a loud laugh somewhere behind her and automatically turned to see what was happening, at the same time Frank Larkin had abruptly decided to move from the spot nearby where he’d been most of the evening, which was why she and Cael and Faith had been stationed where they were, though only Faith had been turned so she could see him. He had stepped to the side to avoid someone who inadvertently moved into his path, Jenner turned, and they each stopped short of plowing into the other.

  She felt the sudden tension in Cael’s arm as he, too, turned around, but he couldn’t move her away without being conspicuous about it. Without hesitation she laughed at the close call and held out her right hand. “Mr. Larkin, I’ve been wanting to meet you. I’m Jenner Redwine. We’ve seen each other in passing because I’m in the suite next to yours. Thank you so much for hosting the cruise. It’s been absolutely marvelous, and of course it’s helping so many worthwhile charities. The Silver Mist is a ship to be proud of. Have you always been interested in ships and sailing?” If there was anything she’d learned since moving to Palm Beach, it was how to bullshit with the best of them.

  Larkin took her hand and shook it, clasping his other hand on top of hers as if to hold it in place. A practiced smile wreathed his face. “No, I’ve never been a sailor,” he said genially. “The ship is an investment, but she’s a beautiful one.”

  His hands were clammy, Jenner noticed. And … was there something wrong with one of his eyes? No, when she looked again, she couldn’t see anything different about it, so it must have been a reflection from the crystal light fixtures overhead. On the other hand, there was no mistaking his expression, and she didn’t like it.

  Gently she withdrew her hand under the guise of making introductions, as she indicated Faith. “Have you met Faith Naterra?”

  “We’ve met, very briefly,” said Faith, smiling her lovely, charming smile as she, too, held out her hand. “But it’s always nice to meet again.”

  “And this is my friend, Cael Traylor,” said Jenner, because it would be too odd if she didn’t introduce him when he was standing right there. The two men shook hands, said the appropriate things, then Cael slid his hand around her waist.

  “Are you ready to leave, sweetheart?”

  There was a warning glint in his eyes as he smiled down at her, but it wasn’t needed. She had no intention of doing anything that would jeopardize whatever he was doing. “Yes, please.”

  “I was just about to leave, myself,” said Larkin, but before he could say anything else the captain finished his little speech with a reference to Larkin, holding out his hand to indicate the host. Larkin had to smile and accept whatever compliment the captain had given, and Cael used the opportunity to steer Jenner out of the lounge, his hand moving from her waist to its customary grip on her elbow.

  She was getting damned tired of being dragged around like a recalcitrant child. At the first opportunity she angled her body so no one could see what she was doing, then jerked her arm as she stooped to pretend she was picking up something from the floor. Cael had to release her arm or twist it out of place, as well as make it obvious to anyone behind them that he had a death grip on her. When she stood up, with a smile in place, she took his hand and laced their fingers together.

  He slanted another of those warning glances down at her, but another couple was following them to the elevators so he couldn’t say anything. Instead he lifted their clasped hands and brushed a kiss across her knuckles, then lightly bit.

  The bottom dropped out of her stomach at the touch of his warm mouth.

  Cold panic wound itself around her spine. She knew that feeling, knew what it meant. Damn it, she was not going to be that galactically stupid. Captive falling for captor was such a cliché, such a moronic thing to do. Not that she thought she was falling in love with him, but lust was something different, and could make a woman act just as dumb.

  She’d been in almost constant contact with him since the first night on the ship. She’d fought with him, kissed him, slept beside him. She’d read once that a woman’s pheromones were transmitted by air but a man’s were transmitted by touch, in which case she had Cael Traylor’s pheromones all over her, interfering with her thinking and making her want to get naked with him so he could transfer even more pheromones.

  “I need a shower,” she muttered to herself.

  “He’s slimy,” Cael agreed absently as they stepped into the elevator. He held the door for the approaching couple, then punched the button for their deck.

  Thank God he hadn’t had any idea what she was thinking! Then she mentally paused, and rewound. That was the first thing any of them had let slip about Larkin, and it wasn’t anything to do with why they were spying on him, but the comment was still telling. Cael thought Larkin was slimy.

  Odd, because she hadn’t liked him, either. Neither had she specifically disliked him, though she was inclined more toward that side of the fence, but he hadn’t done anything to make her fall one way or the other. That said, there was something slightly off about him that made her want to keep her distance.

  There were more implications in that simple, two-word sentence than she could immediately wrap her brain around. The first, most obvious one, was that if Cael thought Larkin was slimy, then he considered himself the good guy in whatever scenario they were working. The second one was, good guys didn’t kill innocent hostages.

  Maybe.

  ONE OF THE ADVANTAGES of his cover was that no one thought twice if he and Jenner “retired” early in the evening.

  Earbuds in place, Cael watched the monitors and listened. The button camera Matt had affixed to the plant container gave him a nice view of the parlor, where Larkin now stood alone. He’d returned to the suite not long after Cael had brought Jenner back. Faith and Ryan had had the honors of keeping track of him until then. Damn, he wished Jenner hadn’t bumped into Larkin, because he didn’t want to become too prominent on the bastard’s radar, but the meeting had been accidental and unavoidable.

  She’d handled herself well, far more smoothly than he’d expected. If he’d expected anything, it was that she would seize the opportunity to bust his chops, but she had been pitch-perfect in her response. She’d surprised the hell out of him, and scared him to death, too. Any time Jenner behaved, his instincts started screaming at him to watch out.

  As he watched and listened, he glanced at Jenner now and again. She was trying to get comfortable in the chair, where she was presently cuffed, but it wasn’t easy. Tough shit. He’d tried letting her go to bed unrestrained—at least until he turned in himself—thinking he could watch her and do his job, but damned if she hadn’t been up and down, flitting around in the bathroom, going to the parlor for a book that had obligated him to stop what he was doing and follow her. She’d read for maybe five minutes, then she’d been up again, rearranging the clothes in the closet and whatever the hell else she could do to take his attention from the job at hand. Finally he’d grabbed her, pushed her skinny little ass in the chair, and cuffed her to it. He couldn’t afford to be distracted.

  Not t