SeaChange (10 page)

“I want you to stay on the boat when I go to meet Wen’s
contact tomorrow afternoon,” he said as they sat on deck, watching the sunset.

“I was planning on checking with the hospitals and local
police.”

“No offense, blondie, but you kinda stand out down there. It
isn’t safe for you to be out in public right now.” She chewed on that one for a
while, so he added the clincher. “Look, we’re pretty sure these guys have a
mole in the U.S. Do you honestly think they won’t be hooked even tighter with
the local cops? I know you want to find Brad, but it won’t do him any good if
you get yourself killed. You could even lead the bad guys right to him.”

She sighed, slouched back into the seat. “Damn, I hate it
when you’re right. You promise you’ll check for me?”

“I promise someone will. Wen liked you, and he doesn’t like
a whole lot of people. He said he’ll do everything he can to find you friend
and believe me, he has the resources to do it.” Yeah, both human and otherwise.
Jake had first met Wen during World War Two, when the agent had been springing
American prisoners from Japanese POW camps and had recruited Jake to help. Jake
didn’t know exactly
what
Wen was, but neither of them had visibly aged
in all the time since. And Jake had never once seen Wen in the daylight.

“He’s not American-born is he?” Heidi asked. “His accent was
just a little too perfect, if you catch my drift.”

“Wen doesn’t talk much about his past. I’m pretty sure he’s
a U.S. citizen now, but no, I don’t think he was born here. And I’m not about
to ask him. If he answered, he’d probably have to shoot me.”

“This is too weird.” Heidi shook her head, as if to clear
out the cobwebs, and her silky hair bounced, grazing Jake’s cheek. Then she
leaned her head against his shoulder and he took a deep breath of her clean,
fresh scent. “I find it hard to believe that anything the past few days has
been real. I mean, I am so not the type to be hanging around with secret
agents.”

“Don’t look at me, I’m just a retired dot-com-er.” He wound
an arm around her shoulder, pulled her a little closer. It felt right, having
her snuggled against him.

“Yeah, right. And I’ve got some oceanfront property for sale
just south of Tucson.”

“Anybody ever tell you you’re a very skeptical lady?”

“Not skeptical, observant. Scientific method, and all that.
Goes with the doctorate.”

“Ah. Well then, same goes. I am so not the type to be
hanging out with eggheads,” he teased back, enjoying the banter. “Yet here we
are.”

She chuckled, laid her hand on his knee. “Yep. Here we are.
Miles from nowhere.”

“So, wanna get nekkid?”

Her reply was a wicked, sexy grin.

“Race you downstairs.”

Heidi shrieked as Jake tackled her to the bed, rocking the
entire boat.

“Gotcha,” he murmured, nuzzling the side of her neck.

“I’m not usually like this, you know.” She tilted her head
to the side, giving him room to play. The hard ridge of his erection pressed up
through the thin layers of their clothes.

“Like what?” Kisses and nips punctuated each word. “Hot?
Horny? Hedonistic?” Then he lifted her shirt and closed his lips around her
nipple, bra and all, making her squirm. “Wet?”

“Promiscuous,” she managed. She fumbled with the fly of his
jeans until she had his erection free, took hold of it with her hand, and
squeezed. His hum of pleasure vibrated on her breast, so she did it again, then
panted. “I don’t usually hop into bed with guys I’ve just met.”

“Good to know.” He paused to pull her shirt and bra over her
head, then switched breasts, using the tip of his tongue to toy with her taut
nipple. “I’m glad you made an exception.” When she leaned closer he took the
hint and drew the whole peak into his warm, wet mouth.

Then there was nothing more to say. Their remaining clothes
were tossed aside as he played her like a Stradivarius in the hands of a
master. With a gentle push he rolled her to her back, came down on top of her,
his head still between her breasts. He rubbed his cheeks against them,
yesterday’s rough three-day stubble having gone soft and silky. Then he tickled
her.

Just a little feathery touch, right above her hip. The
surprise made her jump, and she nearly bucked him off, but he straddled her
thighs and grinned down at her. “Ticklish.”

“No,” she lied, but her quivering lips probably gave her
away. He did it again and she couldn’t help giggling like a twelve-year-old. “Stop
that!”

“Make me,” he taunted, both hands now going for the
sensitive skin of her armpits.

She shrieked and lunged, managing to catch him off guard.
She nipped at his neck, discovered he was ticklish too. The battle was on. They
rolled and tumbled across the bed in an ever-escalating contest to be on top,
squealing and laughing at the top of their lungs.

“Uncle!” she called finally, pinned down. He looked down at
her with a feral gleam in his gorgeous dark eyes. “You win.”

“And what’s the prize?” he asked, licking his lips. The
corners of his eyes crinkled, giving away the laughter he was trying to
suppress.

She rolled her hips, dropped her voice an octave. “What do
you want?”

“You.” The word was practically a growl.

“I think that’s doable.” She was getting wet again just
thinking about it. She’d never had anybody who wanted to play in bed before,
and it was more arousing than she could have ever imagined. Her whole body was
quivering with excitement.

“Oh, I think you’re very doable,” he replied with a smirk. “In
fact, I can think of a lot of ways I’d like to do you. But the guy from the DEA
will be here in about an hour, so we’re not going to have time for all of them.”

“Damn.” She was panting, both from exertion and desire.

“Yeah.” Then again, so was he. She wiggled against his cock.

“So how about you just fuck my brains out now, then we get
around to the other stuff later.” She squirmed underneath him, trying to free
her legs so she could spread them.

“Sounds like a plan.” He swooped down and took her mouth in
a ruthlessly carnal kiss. No quarter, no mercy. He forced her lips open, thrust
his tongue inside and plundered. His thighs were iron bands, refusing to let
hers open, but the rock-hard penis rubbing against her belly let her know that
it wouldn’t be long.

It wasn’t. Only a few seconds after she’d forgotten to
breathe, he stretched his legs, lying full-length on top of her, and broke the
kiss. She gasped for breath like a landed fish, then reached up and pulled his
head back down, returning the favor. This time he let her take the lead,
plunging her tongue into the warm cavern of his mouth, seeking and exploring.
With another quick shimmy of his hips, her legs were apart and he was pushing
inside. He used her moment of surprise to regain the lead in the kiss too, and
he forced her head back against the pillows as his tongue thrust in time with
his cock.

All the teasing and play were gone now. This was just mating
at its most primal, instinctual level. She twined her legs around his waist,
pulling him deeper, and then she moaned at the sensation of being utterly
filled. Apparently size did matter, more than she’d ever believed. Or maybe it
was just Jake, so strong, untamed and purely alpha, filling a need she hadn’t
even known was inside her. A need to be mastered, in bed if not anywhere else.

His hands gripped her shoulders from beneath, slamming her
up to meet each thrust. Her arms were clamped around his shoulders, her short,
ragged nails probably tearing into his skin. Sweat slicked both of them,
allowing their skin to slide rather than stick as they moved. She nipped at the
strong tendon cording his shoulder. The ocean taste made her stomach flutter
and the walls of her pussy clench. His breath caught in a little grunt of
pleasure, so she nipped again, harder, and reveled in his guttural moan.

He started pounding harder, and she bowed her spine to take
him in, her own breath coming in short, harsh gasps. Pleasure spiked through
every pore, raced along every nerve. When he twisted his head to bite the side
of her neck, she squealed his name, and the climax slammed into both of them
like storm-surge waves crashing onto a rocky shore.

Which was a little cliché, she thought a few seconds—or
maybe hours—later, lying beneath Jake and trying in vain to catch her breath.
But she was a marine biologist, after all. Waves were what she thought about.

He went to the meeting with images of Heidi burned into his brain.
Whether she was fully dressed and laughing in the sunshine or sprawled naked on
his sheets, she was the most incredible, unforgettable woman he’d ever known.
And that was dangerous. He needed to clear his head, keep his focus, and he’d
never had trouble doing that before. He was worried about her alone on the boat
even though he knew she was more than capable of taking care of herself. He’d
left her his nine-millimeter Browning, after she’d shown him she knew how to
handle it.

“I grew up in rural Minnesota,” she’d said with a wry
chuckle. “I could field dress a deer long before I could drive a car.”

He’d also left her his cell phone, with Wen’s number and
Marinucci’s on speed-dial. He carried his diving knife and another phone, a
disposable he’d picked up on the way to the meeting. He didn’t want to bring
anything to this meeting that could be traced back to him.

Wen’s contact had chosen the anonymity of the crowd, a safe
choice in a border resort town. Trying to push all thoughts of Heidi out of his
head, Jake scanned the place for exits and problem spots before he sauntered
into the popular tourist bar. He shook his head at the crowd of American
college students and local kids, and winced at the volume of the hip-hop
blaring from the DJ platform. It was uncomfortable to his greater-than-human
hearing, but it was useful. The noise would make overhearing anyone’s
conversation difficult if not impossible. The darkness of the windowless club
and the smoky haze would make identifying faces tricky as well. He skirted
dancers, tables full of chattering Americans, and skimpily clad waitresses to
take a position on a chrome and black vinyl stool at the very end of the black
lacquer bar, leaning his back against the wall.

“
Patrón
,
por favor
.” Spanish had been one of
his first languages, his father’s native tongue. Jake had spent enough time in
Mexico to pick up the local dialect, and with his dark skin and hair, he knew
that no one would take him for a gringo. His cut-off jeans and faded blue
T-shirt were equally unremarkable. A few of the girls smiled at him, mostly
Americans who wanted to be able to brag about a fling with a native when they
got home. He didn’t smile back. While he might have normally taken one of them
up on the offer, today they didn’t even look appealing. When the bartender, a
perky young thing with dark hair to her waist and a toned body in a too-tight
tank top, handed him his drink, he ignored her appraising look as well. She was
cute, even willing, but she wasn’t Heidi. Instead he nodded his thanks and
sipped the tequila sparingly. Alcohol didn’t affect him as much as it did most
humans, but today he needed to have all his wits about him.

“
Bueno
.” Another darkly tanned man sank down onto the
stool next to Jake’s and called to the bartender. “
Cervesa
,
chica
.”

Apparently dismissing him as uninteresting, she handed him a
Corona with a lime wedge stuck in the top of the bottle, then moved on to a
group of younger, rowdier men at the other end of the bar. The other man
chuckled. “Makes a man feel old, doesn’t it,
compadre
?”

“You have no idea,” Jake replied in Spanish.

“A friend of mine says you want an introduction,” the other
man observed, also in his native tongue. He lit a short, hand-rolled cigarette
and Jake caught the tang of marijuana mixed with the stronger scent of tobacco.
“To a local business leader.”

Jake sipped his drink and nodded slowly. Then he spoke with
measured Spanish phrases. “I have come across a—business opportunity in
northern California. But I need to find a supplier who can handle the volume.”

“Ah. This business opportunity, is it in the import
business, perhaps?”

“It is.” Jake nodded again and sipped his drink, trying to
appear only faintly interested.

“And the scale?”

“Large, but not enormous.” Jake waggled his fingers in a
so-so motion. “Perhaps two or three shipments of merchandise per month.”

“That is good,” the other man mused, his expression
thoughtful, noncommittal. “I may know an exporter who would be interested. Now,
would you be setting up in competition with older, more established retailers?”

“Not directly. My brother has taken a job as the head
groundskeeper of a small private college. Currently the students must go into
the San Francisco area to do their shopping. This limits their purchasing
ability. My brother would like to make things more convenient. It is a very
expensive school, you understand. Bored young people with unlimited disposable
income.” This was the story that Jake and Wen had concocted on the phone that
morning.

The Mexican nodded, blew a smoke ring into the air. “Are we
talking about home-grown merchandise, or something more refined?” They both
knew they weren’t discussing souvenir blankets.

“Definitely refined. Homegrown is already easily available,”
Jake returned. In other words, cocaine, not marijuana. A much higher profit
margin.

“I see. And do you have a transport method?”

Jake nodded. “I own a boat—I cruise up and down the coast
all the time. Another brother is in San Diego—he drives north on a regular
basis.”

“This sounds like a most interesting opportunity,” the man
said, sipping his beer. “I do know a man who could supply you with high-quality
merchandise on a regular schedule. I will see if he is interested.” He stubbed
out his cigarette and drained his beer bottle.

“His rates are—reasonable?”

The Mexican waggled his hand. “They are standard, for the
export business. There is a great deal of overhead, you understand.”

“Of course.” Jake named a figure suggested by Wen. It was
low, but high enough to raise interest and make it worth negotiating.

The other man hesitated. “That will be between you and my
friend. I will tell him your terms, then I will call you.” He handed Jake a
cheap cell phone, which Jake slipped into the front pocket of his jeans.

“Fair enough,” Jake agreed. “I will be in the area until
lunchtime tomorrow. Assuming, that is, that I can find a
chiquita
to
come back to my boat with me. Otherwise, I may leave earlier.”

The other man looked around the crowded room and gave a
snort. “I do not think that will be a problem.”

Jake shook his head. “It never is,
amigo
.” He held
out his hand, the other man shook it firmly, neither willing to show any
hesitation or weakness.

“
Adios
.” The other man turned to walk away.

“I prefer
hasta la vista
,” Jake replied under his
breath. He had every intention of seeing this man again.

* * * * *

Heidi had stayed below as Jake had instructed, but she wasn’t
sitting back and waiting. Jake had had a point about her being easy to spot in
a crowd—one Heidi had actually already thought about earlier in the day. Six-foot-tall
blonde women weren’t all that common in California, let alone in Mexico. While
she couldn’t do anything about her height, hair was easy to change. They’d
stopped at a drugstore on their way back to the boat and she’d picked up some
supplies, just in case.

She read the directions on the box carefully, then mixed the
chemicals before stepping into the shower and squeezing the mixture onto her
hair. Afterward, she wrapped her hair in her own aged beach towel, then used
the mirror to rub the mixture onto her eyebrows as well. Once it was all in
place, she padded out into the salon to look for something to read while she
waited.

Pausing at the bookshelf that lined one wall, she scanned
the titles. There were at least six languages represented and she didn’t doubt
for a moment that Jake spoke each of them with perfect fluency. Retired
dot-com-er, her left butt cheek. Several of the volumes were fifty or more
years old, and all looked worn but well cared for. He might have picked them up
at a used bookstore or an estate sale, but she had no doubt he’d read every
last one. He might or might not have any formal education, but she’d bet her
ass he was every bit as intelligent as any professor she’d ever met.

Among the books was a row of paperbacks by John MacDonald,
which caught her attention. Jake had mentioned the Travis McGee series. In fact
he’d claimed the character was his role model. Well, she needed something to
distract her and he didn’t have any of the romance novels she usually read for
fun. Even if she didn’t end up liking the books, she could consider it
background research. Jake Delos 101. One thing she’d already figured out was
that he was almost compulsively well organized. Sure enough, the books were
lined up on the shelf in order of publication date. Selecting the first one,
she padded into the other room, flopped down on the bed and started to read.

Jake felt a moment of fear when he didn’t find Heidi waiting
anxiously in the salon. He’d been sure she’d be pacing the floor, waiting for
his return or ready to shoot an intruder. There was no sign of a struggle, no
damage other than a half-full coffee mug on the dining table. His muscles
tensed and his heart rate quickened as he dropped the bags he’d been carrying
and strode across the floor to the master cabin.

There she was. Right where he’d left her. But what…

She looked up as he entered the room and smiled.

His breath caught at the sight of her. “Your hair! What did
you do?” Her beautiful platinum-blonde tresses were now an unremarkable shade
of dark walnut brown, as were her eyebrows.

“Relax,” she said with a laugh. “You were the one who said I
stood out like a sore thumb.”

Jake stared at the brown-haired Amazon in his bed. She was
still gorgeous, she just didn’t look like his Heidi.

“Besides, it will wash out in a week or so,” she said,
taking pity on him. “I thought about cutting it too, but somehow, I couldn’t
quite talk myself into that.”

“Good.” It was a sensible, rational thing to do, he told
himself. Nonetheless, the idea of her cutting off those magnificent tresses
horrified him. Slowly he forced his breathing back to normal and took a moment
just to enjoy the view. Despite the change to her hair, the sight of her still
filled him with longing.

She was sprawled on her stomach across the neatly made bed,
with her knees bent and her bare feet waving in the air, showing off her
chipped pink toenail polish. She’d tidied up while he was gone, he noticed, and
dressed again in her figure-hugging top and shorts. Shifting to sit up, she
kept her finger carefully holding her place in the paperback she’d been reading
when he came in. She was more than halfway through it.

“This is really good.” She held up the book.
The Deep
Blue Goodbye
.

Damn, she was hot, smart, funny, psychic, and she liked
Travis McGee novels. He was sunk.

“How’d the meeting go?” she asked.

“It went.”

“Did you learn anything?” Her bright-blue eyes stood out
even more beneath the dark brown brows as they searched his expression.

“Not really. This was just a go-between.” He held up the
cell phone. “I’m supposed to get a message later about meeting with the actual
supplier.”

She rolled her eyes. “More waiting.”

He nodded. “And we can’t go too far out from shore or I’ll
lose the signal. But there is some good news.”

She cocked her head.

“I caught a ride out to your campsite. Apparently the record
keeping is bad enough down here that our bad guys hadn’t found it, or they didn’t
look. I couldn’t bring everything, but I recovered your suitcase and your
laptop.”

She lunged at him. He barely kept his footing as she flung
herself into his arms and rained kisses on his face. “Thank you, thank you,
thank you!”

He laughed. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re happier
about the laptop than the clothes?”

“Are you kidding? That’s a whole month’s worth of research.
Clothes can be replaced.”

“Wait until I give you your wallet and cell phone,” he
teased. “I also called Wen. He’s going to have one of his guys recover your car
and the rest of your gear. Does that earn me another kiss?”

“Damn straight!” She planted one on his lips that rocked him
to his toes. They were both breathing roughly by the time he pulled away.

“Any more of that, and dinner’s gonna be really late.”

“You brought food?”

“Umm-hmm. Which, if you recall, it’s your turn to cook.”

“Yeah. Here’s hoping you brought something simple then. I’m
no gourmet.”

“Steak fajitas easy enough?”

“As long as I don’t have to make the tortillas from scratch.”

“No, I bought some fresh ones in town. Fresh salsa, too.”
And tequila. He needed her to sleep again tonight so he could swim.

“In that case,
amigo
, fork over the frying pan.”

He’d even brought her flowers.

The cheerful bouquet was stuck in a plastic tumbler, making
Heidi smile every time she looked at it. Jimmy Buffet and James Taylor
serenaded them from Heidi’s MP3 player, which along with her speakers had been
among the belongings Jake had recovered.

They sat out on the deck to eat. Jake’s call had come in
while they were cooking, and now they were headed toward Ensenada for the next
day’s meeting at noon. They’d anchored in a cove south of town, and the sun was
just starting to descend in the sky when they sat down on cushions to eat, the
large platter of food between them, not bothering with plates. They ate with
their fingers, in companionable silence. Jake had shed his T-shirt and she
watched the sunlight play off the ripples on his golden skin.

“So I get what you mean now about being retired until you
run out of money, then going back to work again. Doesn’t sound like a bad way
to live.” At least it didn’t when John MacDonald wrote it. She wasn’t sure it
was a lifestyle her Midwestern Protestant work ethic could ever quite come to
grips with.