A Dangerous Arrangement (8 page)

Marina shuddered.

To her surprise his arm came around her, and he rubbed her shoulder, whether to warm her or comfort her she wasn't sure. She only knew she had to fight some basic instinct that was urging her to move closer.

‘Does this one look familiar?' he asked.

She forced herself to keep her eyes on the iPad.
This man needs your help.

‘Not really. It's just so hideous.'

She didn't want him to shift, didn't want him to stop stroking her arm so she continued to look through the artwork. ‘Many of these are similar to what I saw. The guns were definitely the size of rocket launchers not smaller handguns, and they were aimed directly at the user.'

‘I remember you mentioning that, so I didn't get my hopes up.' He blew out a breath. ‘At least it's a start.'

Marina pointed with her index finger. ‘It's more the centre part of the image that's not right. The snake bit.'

To her disappointment, he removed his arm and slid the iPad closed. ‘I apologise for making you look at those on such a beautiful day and in such a magical place.'

She wanted to add ‘and with the perfect companion'. But she reminded herself he wasn't. They were from different worlds.

‘What happens now?' she asked as they stood up.

‘I'll leave you to enjoy the rest of your morning with your companion.'

His words were like a fast stab wound, and Marina's stomach contracted. ‘That wasn't what I meant.'

‘I know. I deliberately misunderstood you.'

‘Why?'

He smiled a little. ‘Because I want to know about the guy with the beard.'

‘Vlad?'

‘Is that his name? He's very protective of you.'

To her surprise he held out his hand, just as he had in the gondola. Again, she slipped her hand into his, warm ripples of pleasure pulsing through her body as his fingers closed around hers.

Marina glanced sideways at him as they began descending the steep stairs. She wanted to believe he was probing because he was interested.

‘We've been friends for many years.' She'd led him to believe she had a love interest on board, a decision she regretted now.

He stopped and looked at her, brows pulled together in a frown. ‘Friends?'

Marina's spirits lifted and her heart began to race. ‘Yes. He and Elena are my best friends.'

‘And Elena is …?'

Dean Logan wanted clarification!

She smiled. ‘His wife.'

‘
Oh
.' He nodded, as if she'd told him the most enlightening piece of information he'd heard in weeks.

Marina laughed, and her heart skipped two beats when he raised his eyes heavenwards and gave her a rueful smile.

‘Subtle, huh?'

She nodded. ‘Really subtle.'

Heart pounding, she watched him put the iPad on the nearest seat, then one strong arm circled her waist and drew her towards him. She went slowly, allowing her eyes to drift closed as his other hand came up and slipped beneath her ponytail.

‘Is this alright?' His beard shadow grazed her cheek as he massaged her neck. ‘Or should I go about it in a more indirect way, and sign up for violin lessons?'

A delicious shiver sensitised Marina's skin and a hungry fire stirred deep within her body. It was all she could do not to turn her head and crush her lips against his. But he was taking his time, building the kind of sweet anticipation that weakened a woman's legs along with her resolve.

The difference between man and boy.

Wanting more, she opened her eyes and laid her hands on his chest. ‘I'm afraid my books are closed, so a direct approach will be necessary.'

He smiled that brilliant smile, his lips a hair's breadth above hers. ‘The answer I was hoping for.'

He kissed her, claiming her mouth with warm, firm lips that moved over hers with just the right amount of pressure. She clung to him, breasts heavy and aching while he tasted her like a vigneron sampling a best reserve rarefied wine.

She whimpered, and he deepened the kiss, stroked his tongue across her mouth, asking a question. She answered by parting her lips, fire surging along every nerve pathway as his tongue finally found hers.

The world spun away, reducing Marina's awareness to only him. She slid her fingers into his hair, urging him closer, aware of his laboured breathing, his strengthening hold, his hardening body.

‘Excuse me.'

They jerked apart to find a middle-aged couple trying to negotiate around them on the stairs.

‘Excuse
us
.' Dean kept his arm around her waist as they moved aside for the couple to pass.

When they'd gone, Marina rested her forehead on his chest and struggled to bring her own breathing back to normal.

‘Wow.' Dean's chest vibrated in silent laughter and he ran a warm hand up and down her back. ‘I think I need a cold dip in the ocean.'

Oh no!

Anything but that.

She lifted her head and her heart squeezed as she looked into his handsome face. ‘I'm not wearing a swimsuit, and I said I'd catch up with the others.'

His eyes twinkled. ‘Who said you'd need a swimsuit? This is Europe.'

She reached up and traced his jawline with her index finger. ‘I'm a conservative American, remember?'

He dropped a kiss on her forehead. ‘How could I forget?'

‘So, what are your plans now?'

‘Well.' He took her hand and they headed towards the exit. ‘I was in Cannes when all this began. I flew to Venice, so at present the yacht is somewhere off Sardinia. My plan was to meet up with them somewhere along the coast, but then I got your call. I had a day to kill, so it was no trouble to ride the extra distance down here and show you these in person.'

Marina looked down at the iPad in his hand. ‘I'm sorry I wasn't more help. You're running out of time, aren't you?

‘With the encryption thing? Another two days, but that's the least of our worries. We'll pay the thousand bucks he's asked, but we're not hopeful. We're sure the encryption's a smokescreen, that the five days' grace he's given us is actually time for him to get away with the real prize.'

Marina looked at him. ‘The designs?'

He nodded. ‘For the new Mach V. This guy worked in my office. He wouldn't take that kind of risk for a measly grand to decrypt the files, when he could have done it remotely. He wiped our backup tapes, infected every computer with a data-destroying worm. He even went as far as corrupting our remote server backup.'

‘I can't believe it.' Anger welled up inside her at the injustice of it all. ‘The son of a bitch.'

He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. ‘God, I love it when you say that!'

Marina smiled. ‘As long as it's not aimed at you.'

‘I seem to remember you calling me that once.'

They were back in the car park now. Up ahead, two men were standing by Dean's bike, pointing at it, discussing it.

They hung back, waiting for the men to move on.

Marina glanced sideways at Dean. ‘This whole thing sounds like it's been a well-planned operation from the very beginning.'

‘There's no doubt the company's been specifically targeted.'

Marina shuddered. ‘I can't believe I lived under the same roof as him for six months. I mean, he was probably planning this the whole time and I had no idea. I thought he was some introverted gamer.'

‘Don't worry about it now, you should enjoy the time you have in Taormina. What's your next port of call? Sorrento?'

‘Yes. I disembark in Sorrento.'

His eyes widened in surprise. ‘The itinerary said the ship goes all the way to Portofino, then Livorno and Rome.'

‘It does, but we're only booked for half of it. A saxophone trio takes our place in Sorrento.'

‘I didn't realise that.'

The men up ahead wandered off, and they covered the remaining distance to the bike. Dean leaned against the seat of the machine and drew her to him until she stood between his legs. ‘Why don't we pick up lunch and take it to one of those deserted little bays we saw from the amphitheatre?'

Marina rested her forehead against his and smiled. ‘Have you seen the length of my hair? It takes forever to dry, and I have a performance. Can we have lunch in the town square instead?'

He pressed his face into her hair and inhaled deeply. ‘I'd love to, but I wouldn't take the risk. If the paparazzi spot us, your face will be splashed across the front page of every tabloid in Europe.'

His words doused the heat in her veins like a splash of iced water. ‘What?'

He gave her a strange look as she stepped back, breaking his hold.

‘I'm well known here, more so than in Australia. At home, no-one cares if I'm rich or famous. All they care about is whether I can captain the country to an America's Cup win.'

Sweat broke out on Marina's brow, the thought of her photograph being plastered across every rag in Europe too awful to contemplate. She needed to get away.

‘You know. I really should catch up with the others.'

‘
Hey
.' He frowned and snagged her hand. ‘I've scared you.'

‘Horrify would be a better word.' She hadn't realised he was so high profile, and she was already jittery someone would recognise her without parading around with Mr Eligible.

‘It's not
that
bad. Rask is my head of security. Outmanoeuvring the paparazzi's his favourite pastime. They rarely get near me.'

When she didn't say anything, he turned and put the iPad in the storage compartment then took out his helmet.

‘Without Rask,
this
is a great disguise. I've ridden across Italy without any problem, but sitting in a cafe in the middle of Taormina is asking for trouble.'

Marina nodded, and her heart squeezed at what she was about to do. ‘I understand. Please don't hesitate to send through any further images that you'd like me to look at. In the meantime, I'll see if I can try and remember more.'

His eyes narrowed. ‘Well, that was formal.'

‘Bearing in mind what you said, I think it's best.'

‘Best for
who
?'

‘Both of us.'

She knew she sounded like a bitch, but she'd gone to extremes to keep the entire trip a secret, and to blow everything now because she found Dean Logan dangerously attractive would be foolish. She could lose her career over something he probably looked on as a dalliance.

‘There's no need to give me a ride back into town. I'll sightsee on the way. It's not far.'

He opened his mouth to say something, then stopped, cool annoyance flashing in his eyes. ‘Whatever you say.'

Marina looked at him one last time, committing him to memory. Tall, broad and athletic, he looked every bit the rugged Australian male he was. Outdoorsy—eligible—successful.

Unable to say ‘goodbye', even though she knew this could be the last time, she forced her lips to form the words, ‘Well, thanks again.'

There would be no shortage of women where Dean Logan was concerned.

To her surprise, he took her by the shoulders, leaned forward and kissed her, first on one cheek, then the other. European style. ‘Ciao, Marina.'

‘Ciao.'

Before he could say any more, she turned and began walking down the hill.

A few minutes later she heard the Harley roar to life, and then he rode by, one black leather glove raised in farewell.

Chapter Nine

The Tyrrhenian Sea, off Sardinia

‘Are you all done, Mr Rask?'

Hektor Rask looked around to find Alain's girlfriend standing behind him.

‘Danika … yes.' He reached for the plate containing the cold remnants of his dinner. ‘Sorry, I didn't hear you.'

The diminutive chef and housekeeper always managed to catch him by surprise.

‘That was very nice.' He passed her the plate. ‘Thank you.'

She smiled and bobbed her head a little. ‘Can I get you anything else? I have pastries left over from the party.'

Rask pushed back his chair and stood up. ‘My dear, you have to stop feeding me. The skills you learned at that culinary school in Paris are making me too jolly.'

Rask liked Danika, more than he liked her boyfriend. She went about her work in a quiet and unobtrusive manner, to the extent he sometimes forgot she was on board. And then suddenly she'd turn up, like now, to pick up a plate or ask if it was okay to clean his stateroom, always warm and unpretentious. Unlike Alain, who came off as superior and aloof.

Rask hooked his thumb in the direction of the bridge. ‘I'll relieve Alain so he can eat.'

Alain was at the helm, watching the readings from the radar, sonar and Global Positioning System. They were headed towards the Napoli Coast, with no fixed destination in mind. The plan was to meet up with Dean somewhere, but as he'd taken a detour to Sicily, the operation remained an hour-by-hour one.

Alain looked around.

‘You should eat,' said Rask. ‘Put the ship on autopilot. I'll keep watch while you're in the galley.'

The slim, blond Frenchman did as Rask had asked, decreasing the rate of knots and engaging the autopilot.

Alain departed with a nod, and Rask stood at the helm, looking out over the ocean. The yacht sailed itself, but the bridge still needed to be manned at all times. Occasionally the sonar would pick up something unexpected, like a submerged shipping container that had fallen off a passing freighter, and their course must then be altered quickly.

But he didn't expect anything to happen in the next ten minutes while Alain ate dinner. Conditions were mild, and they'd made quick time since collecting the chopper and leaving Cannes. More importantly, visibility was good. Apart from the occasional white top, the ocean stretched before him like endless folds of shiny black silk.