Burn: A Novel Read online

  Johnson didn’t let the gun waver at all. It was still aimed at Cael’s chest, and that sight made her knees feel weak again. The weakness didn’t last; she wanted to be a partner, not a hindrance. “Maybe I’m being too hasty,” she said, letting the shoe fall a bit. “A lot of people think three-ways are just peachy. Maybe I should give it a try. What do you think, big boy?”

  Johnson looked a little shaken at that question. Finally, the gun shifted, just a little. Johnson looked at her and his eyes narrowed. “Hey, I recognize you. You two have the suite next to Mr. Larkin’s.”

  Cael moved like a snake striking, grabbing the guard’s arm and pushing his gun hand away, then he delivered a cross to the man’s jaw. Jenner stumbled back a half step as she tried to get out of the way of the blow to the man’s jaw. Johnson stumbled back, too, into the rail. He gathered himself, the gun came back around and Cael went for it, but Johnson wasn’t letting go so easily. He shifted, freed his gun hand from Cael’s grip, swung out, and popped Cael in the side of the head with the weapon.

  Cael’s head snapped around; Jenner choked on a cry as a streak of blood bloomed just above his temple, she instinctively rushed toward him as he began to go down, dropping, as if he were falling to his knees. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Johnson shifted his aim until the gun was pointed at her. He actually smiled.

  And Cael’s direction shifted. Instead of going down he shifted his weight and surged upward, hitting the armed guard under the chin with his head and sending Johnson reeling backward so hard the armed man slammed into the railing and almost tumbled over. Cael helped, grabbing one leg, lifting, and giving a shove.

  Johnson went over, but fighting for his life gave him strength and speed; he managed to catch the rail with one hand as he fell. He hung there, which couldn’t have been easy, considering how fat the railing was. Two hands might give him a chance, but as Jenner looked over the rail she saw that he still hadn’t let go of his gun. Cael lunged toward her, the words ripping out of his mouth as he reached for Johnson. “Are you all right?”

  Yes. No. He was going to shoot you. She couldn’t find a voice to answer, could barely breathe. She forced herself to nod, then gave a stifled shriek as she caught the movement out of the corner of her eye, saw the gun coming up. Johnson wasn’t going down if he could help it, he was going to shoot. Her. Cael. One of them, or both, if he could. Instinctively she swung around and down with the shoe, ramming the point of the heel into the hand that gripped the rail.

  Johnson screamed. He couldn’t hold on. He, his gun, the shoe … they all fell.

  Chapter Thirty

  IT WAS EVERYTHING HE’D FEARED. FOR A SPLIT SECOND he’d been looking at Jenner, not the armed security guard, and that distraction could’ve cost them both their lives.

  “I killed that man.” Jenner looked over the side, then turned and buried her face against his chest.

  “You didn’t kill him, I did,” Cael said, holding her close. Her body trembled and she felt too cool, but she was far from in a panic. “I tossed him over the rail, not you.”

  “But I … I finished him off.” Her voice was soft. Logically, Jenner had to realize that she’d saved their lives, but she’d just played a part in killing a man and that shouldn’t go down easy, no matter the circumstances.

  Damn, he wished he’d been able to get his hands on that gun before Johnson had gone over the side. He had a really bad feeling that said he was going to need it.

  “Come on, let’s go back to the room.”

  She let him lead her, his arm tight around her shoulders. They took the elevator; if anyone got on at the Lido deck, they’d just think the lovers had been out for a late-night walk. The cut on his head wasn’t too bad; if anyone noted the blood and asked, he’d tell them he’d fallen and hit his head on the rail. It was a plausible explanation. He didn’t want Jenner to have to deal with putting on a false face even for the short time it took to get from one floor to the next, but he wasn’t going to make her walk down the stairs, either, not as shaky as she was.

  Fortunately, they didn’t run into anyone in the elevator, so he just held her, silent until they walked into the stateroom.

  “I told you to …” he began.

  “Don’t,” she said, turning in to him, pressing her face against his chest. “Not now.”

  He needed to tell the others what had happened, but that could wait until morning. No need to wake them up; it wasn’t like there was anything they could do.

  Jenner’s tremble gradually eased. He tried to release her, but she grabbed his shirt with both hands and held on tight.

  “I’d do it again,” she whispered into his chest.

  “Don’t think about it.”

  “He was going to shoot you.”

  Maybe. Maybe not. “I know.”

  “So I’d do it again.” She tilted her head back and looked up at him. “Your head’s bleeding.”

  “It’s not too bad.” If he wasn’t unconscious and his vision wasn’t affected by a river of blood, he was okay. A tap on the head wasn’t going to stop him now.

  “I have a first-aid kit …”

  He kissed her. Without thought, without command, without any reason other than he wanted to. For a long, heart-stopping minute he thought he’d lost her, and the only thing he’d been able to think was that he wasn’t ready to let her go. Not now, and probably not for a long, long time.

  THE NEXT DAY, Tiffany smiled at the bartender and accepted the virgin Bloody Mary she’d ordered. The tomato juice and celery stick fit with her new “on the wagon” persona, as did the outrageous flirting, which wasn’t tough. The bartender was cute. Neither he nor anyone else could tell from her actions that anything was out of place.

  Surveillance only Cael had told her when he’d recruited her for this job. Yeah, right. Now a security guard—admittedly a bad security guard, since good ones didn’t pull guns on passengers and pop them upside the head with the butt—was food for the fishes, and when word got out there would be hell to pay.

  But it was well into the afternoon and she hadn’t noticed even a stir among the crew or the passengers. Frank Larkin was picking at his lunch in the outdoor cafe near the bar, where he was dining with one of the movers and shakers on the cruise, a man whose bank account put Larkin’s to shame. She turned that way, fiddled with her necklace and took a picture of the two with the tiny camera concealed there. And then, before he had a chance to notice that she was paying too much attention, she walked away, because last night’s escapade put them all at risk. They’d have to be extra careful from here on out.

  She made a half turn, and immediately spotted the security guard who was watching Larkin from a distance. Her eyes scanned right past him; she saw Buttons standing by the rail, enjoying the view, and she headed that way.

  Surveillance only, my ass. Every instinct she possessed told her there was more to this job than any of them knew. In the way of the biz, they’d probably know more than they cared to before it was all said and done.

  GETTING INVOLVED WITH JENNER had been a bad idea. Cael knew better, but he didn’t regret a minute. Not a single minute, even though he’d let his dick complicate things beyond hope. He’d never before cared about anyone he’d been on a job with, and now he knew how dangerous it was. Faith and Ryan managed, but damn if he knew how.

  He sat in a deck chair, legs stretched out, his mind on the days ahead. If Larkin’s bodyguards were not only armed but willing to use those weapons at the drop of a hat, what was going to happen when one of them came up missing?

  Jenner walked onto the balcony wearing another of those sexy sundresses with almost no top, and he felt as if the air was sucked from his lungs. Damn, this was so incredibly bad.

  She sat on his lap and gave him a too-quick kiss. His arm went around her waist. She smelled good, tasted good. He could almost forget why he was here, and that wouldn’t do.

  “You should’ve stayed in Hawaii,” he said, a tickle of warning crawling up his