It was after ten and God only knew what kind of trouble Elle had managed to find for herself in the past several hours.
“Gone.”
“What do you mean, ‘gone’?”
Tom shrugged. “She left around six, duffel bag slung over her back, and headed out into the jungle.”
“And you didn’t stop her?” Zane growled.
“Why would I? People go to the waterfall all the time.”
“Couples go to the waterfall. Tell me someone else was with her.” Part of him hoped she’d taken that damn yuppie along, not that he’d be able to save her from a poisonous snake or a broken ankle when she fell off a path, but surely the man could run for help. Part of him dreaded the idea of her heading off into the dense vegetation with someone else. Someone who wasn’t him.
“Nope, she went alone.”
“Goddamn it.” Zane slammed his hand against the frame of the door, not caring that the room seemed to shake around him. Of course she’d gone out there alone. Idiot.
And he hadn’t told her not to. He’d meant to. Last night. But he’d been distracted by that moron following her, and then by her dominatrix routine and the sleight of hand that she thought she’d pulled on him.
Oh, he’d been perfectly aware the moment she pulled that key card out of his waistband. She was good, but he’d been trained by the CIA.
He’d let her take it, wanted to see what she would do with it. The minute she swiped that card through any of the doors, he’d know it—and hopefully learn exactly why she was here. What she was searching for.
He’d checked the log before he’d left his house this morning. He knew she hadn’t used it. And now he knew why. She wasn’t even on resort property.
“You stay here. You’re running the Nest today,” Zane growled.
“But I’ve been on all night.”
“And you’ll be on all day. Maybe next time you won’t let someone wander into the jungle alone.” Turning around, he was halfway down the corridor when he picked up his two-way and yelled into it, “And tell Marcy where I’m going!”
Elle was hours ahead of him, but at least he had a decent idea of where she’d gone. At a steady walk, it would take him about a half hour to get to the waterfall. If he’d been in the city, it would have taken him about twenty minutes—it was only about two miles away. But the path wasn’t straight, and the going was rough and crude in several places, winding back on itself to avoid sharp drop-offs that the dense trees and bushes hid.
Fear had him moving faster. A vision of Elle lying at the bottom of one of those drops, her body broken and bloody leaped into his brain. The vision was quickly overlaid with the memory of Felicity as he’d seen her from their apartment window, dead on the sidewalk below.
He’d been too late to save her. He wouldn’t let that happen to Elle. He couldn’t lose her, too.
Zane burst into the clearing just in time to watch Elle pull her T-shirt over her head and drop it onto the mossy ground at her feet. With a flick of her ankle, her shorts joined the pile. Her skin glowed beneath the sun, a damp sheen from the heat making the tanned surface glimmer.
She wore nothing but a pale pink bra and a matching pair of boy shorts.
The underwear covered just as much as—if not more than—most of what passed for bathing suits by their female guests. But somehow, what Elle wore was far sexier. Maybe it was the forbidden element. She hadn’t intended anyone to see her strip down to her bra and panties and plunge headfirst into the shallow pool.
The anger and fear that had dogged him the entire sprint here was now mixed with all-consuming lust. The mixture was dangerous…deadly.
Without thought, he charged after her.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Startled, Elle spun, spraying water around her. Droplets clung in her hair, diamonds against the fiery red.
“What are you doing here?” Surprise was soon replaced with lazy calculation. Her eyes narrowed and she stared at him for several seconds before she fell over onto her back. Her hands played languidly across the surface as she floated in the water.
Her bra was soaked, the pale pink turning almost transparent as her breasts jutted up out of the water. He could just see the darker circles of her areolae and the peaks of her tightened nipples.
“I told you I’d be watching.” His voice sounded gravelly, even to his own ears, filled with craving and crusted with the last dregs of his fear.
She shook her head. “You’re wasting your time.”
Zane shrugged his shoulders. They both knew that was a lie, but he wasn’t ready to tip his hand about the key card, so he said nothing.
Matching her conversational tone, he walked closer to the bank. Toeing off one shoe and then the other, he left them on the path. “Are you stupid or just suicidal?”
“Neither,” she said, lifting her head out of the water long enough to shoot him a taunting grin.
“You have to be one or the other to walk into the jungle alone, without telling anyone where you were going.”
“You managed to find me.”
“Luck.”
A smile played across her lips. “Don’t sell yourself short, Officer Edwards.”
“Special agent.”
Her smile grew.
He waded into the water. She flicked her feet and moved farther away. Grabbing the hem of his shirt, he tugged it over his head and flung it onto the sandy bank.
He’d stopped long enough to put on some shorts before heading out to the waterfall. He didn’t bother taking them off, and surged into the water after her. This time, he was the one with the element of surprise.
He grasped her ankle, towing her back through the water toward him. She thrashed. His eyes closed to protect himself from the flying wall of water that washed over him. She rolled like a gator, flinging her free foot and twisting his arms. He didn’t lose his grip.
“Let me go.”
“Not a chance.”
With his free hand, he reached down for her, intent on dragging her out and giving her a solid piece of his mind. Somewhere between intent and execution, it went completely awry.
He’d meant to grab her arm. Instead, he got a palm full of silk-covered breast as she squirmed in the water.
She stilled. His body loomed over her and she stared up at him.
The clear water did nothing to cover her body. It only amplified what he’d been dying to get a glimpse of for the past few days.
She was beautiful. Perfect. And her nipple peaked beneath his palm, pricking his conscience and urging him on all at once.
He tried to move back, but her body arched into his hold, following the warmth of his hand.
Her face was blank, but her eyes burned as she watched him. They’d both been fighting this. He’d tried to make it go away, but it wouldn’t. In fact, it was only getting stronger. Each time he saw her, he wanted her more. And considering he’d done nothing but watch her since she got here, he’d definitely been playing with fire. Zane reached for her. She didn’t move away, she didn’t come closer. She stood there, the muscles in her chest expanding and contracting on her labored breaths. His own lungs felt starved for oxygen. No, starved for her.
Burying his hands into the hair at her nape, he pulled her to him and took what he wanted.
And she let him. Her body arched back in his arms, giving him better access to her mouth. Her arms hung limp at her sides. But he could taste her desire, could feel the heat of it coming off her skin in waves, mingling together just as their mouths and tongues collided.
He scooped her up into his arms. The walk to the beach was endless and immediately forgotten as soon as he laid her out on the ground close to the forest floor. Fallen palm fronds, soft wildflowers and spongy moss that seemed to grow only close to the water cushioned the ground and provided the perfect bed.
He followed her down, rolling onto his side so he could look at her. She stared back, the passion-soaked haze gone from her eyes. Her lips pulled down into a frown as she said, “We probably shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Nope.” She was right. There were so many reasons he should keep his hands off her—forefront in his mind was that he really didn’t think he could trust her. And considering he had enough trouble trusting people these days… But his body wouldn’t seem to listen. So here they were, together, in a secluded clearing on a private tropical island. And he wasn’t going to be the one to stop the inevitable.
He reached for her, his hands skimming across the smooth plane of her stomach, as his lips tasted the curve of her shoulder. She was sweet and slightly salty from her hours under the sun. The tropical floral scent he’d assumed was artificial seemed to be embedded deep within her skin, quintessentially Elle and definitely not from some bottle. It was exotic, just as she was, and reminded him of steamy, moon-soaked nights. Nights he wanted to spend with her.
Zane watched as her eyes closed in bliss. As sexual caresses went, he would have put both low on the scale for what might have caused her pleasure. But the reality was stamped across her face.
He moved his mouth closer, trailing kisses across her collarbone to the sensitive curve of her neck.
“Just so we’re both clear,” she breathed out, before rolling beneath his hand to grab for him.
Her fingers dug into his skin, pulling him closer to her body. What she was saying was hard to miss, and still he had to ask.
“You’re sure about this?”
Rearing up on her elbow, Elle looked down at him. She was fierce and beautiful and full of life. Her skin glowed with energy, not just some sprayed-on tan but the vitality of a life lived to the fullest. Her silvery eyes flashed at him, a reflection of the need pulsing through his own body. A half smile tugged at the corners of her lips, timeless and mysterious. As if she knew things he’d never understand. Had experienced things she’d never share with him.
Although, he hadn’t really asked her to. He had plenty of secrets and a history of his own. Things he couldn’t share. Memories he wouldn’t let taint this moment.
Elle was here, and right now he didn’t want to be anywhere else.
“Shut up and kiss me,” she whispered.
8
ELLE WATCHED THE PLAY of emotions as they crossed Zane’s face. If he had any idea of the glimpse into his mind that he’d just given her, she was sure he would have bolted back to the safety of his hidey-hole, the resort.
She didn’t know his story, but she could guess. And in the grand scheme of things, it really didn’t matter. She didn’t need to know him in order to enjoy the physical explosion he could tease from her body.
She wondered just how many women Officer Edwards had been with since he’d come to this place. She was absolutely certain she wasn’t the first guest to have been attracted to the resident cop. Lots of women fell for that man-in-uniform, save-the-world, Superman complex that he hid beneath his stern outer shell.
She wasn’t one of them. Wouldn’t be one of them.
Pushing up onto her knees, Elle reached behind her and snapped open the catch of her bra. She let it glide down the length of her arms to fall into a wet puddle across his body. She enjoyed the hiss that leaked through his teeth, wondering if it was because the cloth had been cold and wet, or because he liked what she’d revealed.
Without waiting to find out, she rose to her feet. The boy shorts she’d put on this morning were by far the least sexy underwear she owned. At least, she thought so. But the look in Zane’s eyes told her maybe she needed to reevaluate. Certainly, they were less than cooperative as she tried to peel the clinging material from her wet skin. Somehow, what she’d meant to be enticing was quickly turning into a moment of embarrassment when they rolled into an uncooperative ball of cloth just as she tried to get them over her hips.
That is, until his hands swept hers away. She looked up from her struggle to find Zane on his knees at her feet. She had a brief moment to think,
I could get used to this,
before his hands settled on her body and coherent thought fled.
With gentle tugs, he worked the soggy material down her legs, cupping one ankle to steady her when she lifted a foot so he could toss the panties aside.
His hands grasped the globes of her ass, pulling her closer toward him. His mouth touched down on her stomach, his tongue dipping to swirl into her belly button. A tug of something deep inside followed the rush of slick need between her thighs.