Touching Paradise (16 page)

Curious, he opened the box. The samples were in larger containers, the exact locations marked, and not in Victoria’s messy scrawl. Darius must have sent her a new partner.

Good. Darius was finally catching on.
 

Frowning, Koenraad did some quick calculations. He planned to investigate this on his own, right? So why not save himself a long boat trip? With Victoria working that area, he wasn’t going to take Monroe anyway, so going to Curaçao would just be a waste of time.
 

Working quickly, he helped himself to parts of those samples and quickly labeled them. He put them into the box he’d brought, then made the smaller samples as Darius had requested. He moved fast but his hands were steady. If someone asked what he was doing, he could always tell the truth, that he wanted to check his own samples, but he preferred to keep this to himself.

When he was finished, he flipped the box’s flaps over the top to shield the contents from casual observation, then picked up the package and headed back the way he had come.

“Leaving already?” Darius asked.

“I’ve got company waiting,” Koenraad said. “You need me, you have my number.”

He smelled Victoria as he approached his boat. While objectively her scent was pleasant, Koenraad’s lip curled in disgust. If she had boarded
The Good Life
, he was going to throw her into the water.

“Nearly missed you.” Her voice, falsely warm, made him grit his teeth. She had come up behind him, and he turned; Victoria wasn’t the kind of woman he felt comfortable leaving his back to.
 

“I don’t have time for this, Victoria.”

She inhaled, her delicate nostrils expanding slightly. Her large pupils went wider. Koenraad expected her to make a comment about Monroe, but instead she lowered her head with a little smile. “You can spare five minutes for the mother of your son.”

Her words knifed through him. She stepped closer. “That’s what I want to talk to you about,” she said. “Brady.”

“Nothing to discuss.”
 

“I think I know where he is.”
 

“What?” he asked hoarsely. A hot surge of adrenaline shot through his veins, and he struggled to control his physical reaction. He needed to be careful. “No,” he said. “You don’t get to come out here and use Brady against me.”

“You’re so vain. Not everything is about you.” Her cool eyes roamed over his face. “I think he’s still alive, and I think he might even be in the area.”

“Did you catch his scent?”

“No,” she admitted. “What I’m saying is that so long as I’m here, I might as well help in your search.”

“It’s been two years. What makes you think I’m still looking?”

“You were a few months ago.”

“Well, I’ve stopped.” He stared into her eyes. “I’ve gotten on with my life, and so should you.” He was referring to the impossibility of a future for the two of them, but she clearly took his words to mean something else.

“I’m his
mother
,” she said. “And I know he’s alive.”

Koenraad clenched the box tighter. “Based on what?”
 

It seemed like an eternity before she answered, and that pause played with his peace of mind. “Female intuition,” she said finally. “A mother can feel these things.”

“Three weeks after you lost him, your mother’s intuition told you he was dead.”

Irritation flashed in her eyes. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
 

“Stay away from me.”

It wasn’t until he was well out of sight and scent of the dock that his shoulders finally relaxed. Victoria was playing games. She’d finally learned that she couldn’t lead him around by his cock, so now she was sinking her claws into his emotions. She didn’t know a damned thing, but she’d managed to rattle him nonetheless. The last thing he needed was her shadowing him under the pretense of looking for Brady.
 

With the
sick
in the water, it would take her more than a few days to track him down, but if she was determined enough, she’d be able to do it.
 

All the more reason to get this mystery solved so that she could be on her way.

Chapter 15

Monroe walked around the six-foot-long model ship in the middle of Koenraad’s library. She wondered if he’d made it, and if so, how long it had taken. She stretched out a hand and touched one of the white sails with her fingertip, then drew her hand lightly over the delicate rigging.

The detail was staggering. The ship’s decks gleamed. In fact, she almost expected tiny, sunburned sailors to come above deck and start lowering the sails.

She straightened and looked around the library again. There had to be several hundred books on the built-in shelves, and in one corner was a wooden ladder that was connected to the second level. The theme was clearly nautical, and this was the most fully furnished room that she had discovered in the mansion, though there were several sections she hadn’t explored at all.

She passed through the kitchen, got a glass of cool water, then wandered out the back.

An ocean breeze played with the ends of her hair as she stepped from the stone onto the warm, shifting sand. The architect had designed the building around the beach, she realized, because there was a sharp turn to her left that mirrored the shape of the mansion’s hallways.

She wandered over that way, passing an enormous and immaculate pool. The point of maintaining a pool when the ocean was a stone’s throw away eluded her. Status symbol, probably. Good for parties. She wondered if chlorine irritated shark skin, then laughed aloud when she realized how crazy it was to even think about that.
 

Continuing on, she saw that the ocean here actually formed an inlet the size of a city block. A frown settled on her face as she stared at the rocks heaped on both sides of the inlet’s entrance, and she discerned the outline of an open gate. It was so well disguised that if she hadn’t been staring directly at it, she never would have seen it.

So the architect had caught and tamed a part of the ocean. Impressive. She made her way down the beach for a closer look.

The calm water was so clear and blue that it nearly broke her heart. The Hudson wasn’t going to be a good substitute, that was for sure.
 

She took another sip from her glass as she waded out, ankle-deep, then deeper, up to her knees, the bottom of her dress clutched in the same hand that held the glass.

The water didn’t seem deep, and it was so beautiful. Small fish darted just a few feet beyond where she stood.
 

She considered going inside, changing and coming out for a swim. Salt water was a lot more buoyant than the pools she was used to lounging beside. And there weren’t really any waves in this corralled bit of ocean.

She felt safe here.

Because of Koenraad.
 

Hell. She was going in. This was a private beach, and she hadn’t heard a single boat or seen any signs of other people since she’d arrived. She didn’t need to bother with a swimsuit. She emptied the glass into the blue water and watched as the wind carried the last few drops so that they fell in an arc.

A flash of movement caught her attention.

For a moment she couldn’t make sense of the dark shape in the water. A mass of seaweed? No, a fish. Maybe a Nassau grouper. But too large even for that.

Coming toward her now.

Her body froze, and she stared wide-eyed at the dark shape. The triangular dorsal fin and tail emerged from the water, the animal’s silhouette now unmistakable.

It was a shark, no doubt about it. Not a gigantic one, but four feet long was big enough that she shouldn’t be in its domain.
 

Large enough to kill a woman.

Her feet came unglued from the sand, and she backed up until only her ankles were in the water. The beach here sloped so gently that she knew she was safe, out of reach.
 

She shaded her eyes with her hand and furrowed her brow, trying to see clearly. Now that she knew shark shifters existed, she had to wonder if this was a shark or a shifter.
 

The shark was now clearly visible, and while it was hard to tell what its dark eyes were tracking, she felt it was watching her.

Of course it was. There wasn’t any other reason for it to be in this exact location.

She walked a few feet to the right, and the shark followed. It never stopped swimming, she noticed, and she remembered hearing something about certain shark species being unable to breathe if they stopped moving. That they needed to force water over their gills.

She went back to the left, and the shark mirrored her movement in the water. The creature was graceful, beautiful.
 

There wasn’t anything predatory in its actions. It seemed… curious, like it wanted to come closer. If it had been a dolphin, that would have been her conclusion.

Maybe it was a young shifter? But if so, why not change shape?

“Hi,” she said. She waved at it, then dropped her hand because she felt incredibly stupid.

The animal rolled a bit, its huge, dark eye studying her. Its tail thrashed and it swam out, circled back. Every time it turned its head, the skin over its gills rippled. It seemed… delicate. Monroe had the unsettling impression that for all those razor-sharp teeth, the animal was fragile.

It abruptly swam away, quickly disappearing into the clear water. Either it had gone out toward the sea, or it was so well camouflaged as to be invisible. A shiver ran down her spine.
 

Probably it had hoped to take a chunk out of her leg. Sharks weren’t dolphins. They weren’t known for being playful.

She waited a few minutes to see if it would visit again, but there was no sign of the animal, so she headed back inside.

As she passed the pool, she smiled to herself. Well, she’d discovered one reason to have one next to the ocean.
 

There were many doors leading back into the mansion, but she’d had enough exploring for the day, so she retraced her steps and entered the way she’d come out, near the library.

A dark shape moved toward her, and she jumped before she realized it was Koenraad.

“Were you out there long?” he asked, an edge to his voice.

“Not really,” she said, blinking as her eyes struggled to adjust to the relative darkness. “I saw a shark. It…” Her voice trailed off at the look on Koenraad’s face.

“That’s very rare,” he said carefully as they walked past the library. “I think it’s better if you stay away from the water here. It’s really not safe. I should have been clearer.”

“I did wonder if it was a shifter. Is there any way to tell?” she spoke with too much enthusiasm, trying to cover her embarrassment.
 

“No.” He took the empty glass from her hand and pulled her into his arms, and she could feel that his body was completely tense.

Oh, god, suppose he’d changed his mind about her staying? “Is… everything alright?”
 

“Work problems,” he said. A non-answer. It wasn’t her business, but there was something she could do to make him feel better.

They were in a hallway, standing next to a sturdy wooden table with a built-in shelf that ran the length of it. She imagined it was for books, but it was bare. No dust that she could see, though. Maybe it had something to do with the ocean breeze that came in through the windows.

Above the table and shelf, the elegant blinds over the windows were partially drawn. They were upside down compared to normal blinds, and light poured in over the top. Koenraad seemed to glow in the pool of yellow that slanted over him.

Monroe slowly sank to her knees, her hands fumbling with the thin, rope-like drawstring of his board shorts.

“What are you doing?” he asked hoarsely.

She smiled up at him and slowly flicked the tip of her tongue along her lips. “Returning the favor,” she said. She tugged the shorts down. It wasn’t easy because the waistband was getting hung up on something large and hard.

Koenraad’s cock sprang free, and she nearly gasped at the sight of his hard, smooth shaft. Was any part of this man not perfect? Even his scar was beautiful.
 

She sighed as she wrapped her fingers around the shaft. She could feel the kicking pulse of his heartbeat in her fist. So steady and warm.
 

Squeezing the base, she directed the swollen head toward her mouth. She licked the warm skin, slid the tip slowly and sensually into her mouth, more for her own pleasure than for his. Oh, he tasted sweet. If all men tasted like this…
 

He groaned, and she had to pause until she mastered her smile.

Being on her knees in front of Koenraad felt good. Felt right.

She began to bob her head up and down on his length. His hand came to rest in her hair, and a little groaning sigh rumbled out of his throat.

“That’s good,” he murmured.
 

If he could still talk, she needed to kick it up a notch. She slid her hand down the base so she could take more of him. She gave her head a twist at the end of each bob, swiveling up and down on him. He pulsed in her mouth, growing even harder.

“That was nice,” he said, his voice choked as he pulled away. She reached for him, and he gripped her elbow and pulled her up to standing. Clearly, he wanted her to stop.

Her heart sank. “Nice?”

He set the glass on the table, then trapped her face in his hands and stared into her eyes. A smile played at the corners of his mouth. “You know what you’re doing, don’t get me wrong, but I’d much rather be inside you.”

Then he crushed his mouth against hers. There were no gentle nips this time. He urged her lips apart and kissed her deeply, almost violently.

Like he needed her and couldn’t wait another second.

He kissed like he fucked. Deep. Urgent. Like he was barely clinging to self-control. His kiss tasted of black licorice, dark but almost sweet.
 

Then he pulled away, leaving her gasping.

In a smooth motion, he turned her and pressed her upper body flat on the wood table. The surface was wider than she’d realized… her head wasn’t in danger of hitting the shelf, which was a good thing as she was pretty sure the shelf would win.