CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Miller would be the first to admit she didn’t know a lot about boats—nothing at all really—but it wasn’t the jungle and there was a solid roof over her head, so she wasn’t going to complain. It probably helped that the nausea had disappeared within a few minutes of the injection, so she was feeling a little more confident as she studied her new lodgings.
Elias had been right. This was an expensive piece of equipment. He’d checked it thoroughly, weapon in hand, before they’d hauled the rest of the groceries, supplies, and new clothing purchases on board.
“I can’t believe that people live like this,” she said, looking around wide-eyed. “It’s bigger than a house. And look at the quality of the floors and cabinets. I keep thinking about Titanic. All that opulence and the ship still sank.”
“Probably not the best movie reference for the circumstances,” Elias said. “The boat’s been boarded,” he said. “As I’d expect it to be. They left a footprint on the deck. And I found a couple of bugs while doing my search. I’ll have the computer scan for others.”
“I’m assuming you’re not talking about bed bugs and cockroaches,” she said.
“No, the other variety.”
There was an unassuming panel on the wall, much like in the railcar, and Elias placed his hand on it. The interior came to life, panels opening in the walls and extra control panels appearing with all the gadgets and knobs that she assumed made the boat run.
“Elias Cole, agent number zero zero four,” he said.
Agent confirmed by voice recognition . . . the computer said back.
“You’re agent 004?” Miller asked. “Seriously?”
He winked and said, “Run diagnostics.”
The Devil’s Due was last boarded at twelve-twenty-three p.m. Tanks are full and engine systems are functioning at one hundred percent. Temperature is dropping at a steady and rapid pace, and thunderstorms are expected in exactly twenty-three minutes. It is suggested to find a secure location to anchor.
“Any signs of tampering or discovery?” Elias asked.
No signs of tampering, and security was not breached.
“We’re free to talk,” Elias told her. “As soon as I placed my hand on the panel we became shielded. The only place we’ll have to be careful is out on deck. There are so many long-distance listening devices it’s always better to be safe than sorry.”
“Why would they board? Do you think they know we’re here already?” she asked, eyeing the lone footprint.
“Unlikely,” he said. “Cordova’s men have their finger on the pulse of everything that happens on the islands. They know regular tourists from tourists with ‘money.’ It’s obvious we came in with money. They’ve got our identities, and they’ll put our backgrounds through the paces, so we’ll keep our fingers crossed the agency did a thorough job there and aren’t going to leave us high and dry.”
The clouds rolled across the sky, turbulent and gray, and the wind caused ripples across the water. The boat rocked beneath her feet, but she didn’t feel the waves of nausea she expected. She was keeping her fingers crossed that Elias’s magic shot would do the trick. Things might be different once they actually got out onto the water.
“I’ve got to tell you,” she said, “I could go the rest of my life without ever seeing rain again after last night.”
“I can promise this is going to be a totally different experience,” he said. “Unless your Titanic premonition comes true, and then we’ve got other problems to deal with.”
The yacht was beautiful and a sleek white with two blue stripes down the side. The trident she’d become familiar with was painted on the hull. Windows surrounded the main living and kitchen area, letting in watery light. White leather bench seats lined the walls in a U shape beneath the windows, and a dining table for six was bolted to the center of the teak floors. The kitchen cabinets matched the floors and the countertops were the same bright white as the leather cushions. There was a spiral staircase that led both up to the top deck and down below to the lower cabin.
“Bedrooms are down below,” Elias said. “Take your pick. I’d like to put a little distance between us and the mainland. There’s a little cove that’s close that backs directly to the mountains. Anyone approaching would have to do so by water. It gives us a little extra time to prepare.”
“We’re going out there?” she asked, wide-eyed. “Now? What about the storm?”
“We’ve got twenty-three minutes,” he said. “We should make it just in time. Then we can enjoy dinner and see how bad that four-dollar bottle of wine is going to be.”
“I’ll let you test it first,” she said. “That’s why I got the beer. It’s almost impossible to screw that up.” She took her new clothes and toiletries and squeezed herself down the small staircase. She caught her balance and held on to the stair rail as Elias slowly guided them away from the dock.
The downstairs area was huge. There was a common sitting area and game room, and there was a bedroom suite on each side with a private bath. The king-sized beds each faced windows that looked out onto the water, and other than the color scheme—one in blues and golds and the other in purples and silvers—they looked identical. She hoped there were blinds because she’d never been a morning person, and she had no intention of becoming one.
She chose the purple and silver bedroom and put away her new clothes—mostly long pants and layering pieces, along with a few loose dresses like the one she was wearing, and then she realized she hadn’t needed to do much shopping at the market. The closet was fully stocked with different sizes and brands of clothing. And the shoes . . .
“Oh, man,” she whispered, eyeing an entire wall of the closet. “I could get used to this.”
She checked the drawers and saw lingerie and underthings, all with the tags still on them, and she selected some and then went into the bathroom. After the last twenty-four hours, she was never going to take hot running water and soap for granted again.
If she was being honest with herself, she needed some time alone—to reevaluate things. The Elias she’d gotten to know over the last several days wasn’t what she’d expected from the man who’d left her so sexually frustrated a couple of months before. She still didn’t understand why he’d done it, but she’d come to understand him a little better, and she realized he wasn’t the kind of man who would hurt her on purpose.
He had a strict moral code, and she could tell by the way he talked about his mom and sisters that he had an appreciation and respect for women. He was funny, and wasn’t afraid to laugh at himself, and she loved talking to him. She liked him. And good grief, did he turn her on. If she believed in the happily-ever-afters she wrote about, he’d be exactly the kind of man she was looking for. But she didn’t believe. And she wasn’t looking. But that didn’t mean the physical need for him wasn’t there. In fact, the more time she spent with him, the harder it was to resist. Especially if he kept kissing her.
Thinking about his kisses wasn’t helping. Her skin was sensitive, her nipples rigid, and her body primed. Even the water droplets sluicing across her skin were too much. It would be so easy to slide her hand down to the damp folds between her legs. To take the edge off. And she realized if she did, it would be Elias’s touch she imagined. The substitution would never match up to the real thing.
She turned the water off with a flick of her wrist and stepped out of the shower before she could give into temptation. The towel was soft, but it was still too much against her sensitive skin. Maybe she should just let things happen. It was sex. A physical release. It’s not like he had to declare undying love. All he had to do was follow through and not leave her hanging.
It was best to just let nature take its course, like a mature adult in charge of her own sexuality. The bathroom was fully stocked with toiletries, and she found creams to smooth on her face and body. She’d gotten some sun walking to the market that morning, and her skin had a nice healthy glow to it by the time she’d moisturized.
She put on the panties and then walked back out to the bedroom to the large closet. If she helped Elias make up his mind by slipping on something a little sexier than she’d normally wear, then who was anyone else to judge. It’s not like she’d be holding a gun to his head. The choice was his to make.
There was a white sundress that caught her eye, and when she slipped it on and looked in the mirror she knew it was exactly right. It draped loosely, all the way to the floor, and just skimmed her body.
She took a deep breath and headed back upstairs, and she watched him for a second at the helm, completely at ease and in control as they cut through the water.
“Have you ever seen that movie Overboard?” she asked, coming up behind him.
“Let me guess,” he said. “You saw the shoe closet.”
“I might have had a small orgasm. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Pour yourself some four-dollar wine, and get comfortable. I’m trying to move us into a safe location to wait out the storm, and also keep us from getting ambushed in the night. There’s a little inlet up ahead, and anyone wanting to board us will only be able to reach us by water.”
She took the wine from the refrigerator and unscrewed the top, pouring herself half a glass of the pink liquid and then moving to the windows to see the view. She saw what he meant when he’d said they’d only be reachable by water. There was a small inlet that butted up to a steep cliff, and there were no other boats docked there. She didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad sign.
Elias expertly maneuvered the yacht into the inlet, and immediately the cliffs protected them from the wind.
“Where’d you learn to drive a boat?” she asked. “As a SEAL?”
She saw him wince, and then he cut his eyes in her direction, his mouth open as if he were going to say something. But he just froze and stared at her.
“What?” she asked, knowing exactly what he was thinking. It was written all over his face.
“Nice dress,” he said, his gaze lingering on her breasts. And then he blinked and focused his attention back on the water. “First of all, you don’t drive a boat. You sail a boat.”
“Oh, my apologies,” she said, brows raised. “I hope the mariner police don’t arrest me.”
“Smart-ass,” he said, grinning. “But to answer your question, I could handle one of these babies long before I was a SEAL. I grew up on the water. Like I said, I’d have much rather spent my days fishing than going to school. Of course, I didn’t get to captain anything like this, but learning on something not quite so nice helped me understand the workings of boats from the inside out.
“I’ve always been comfortable on the water. So being a SEAL seemed like the natural course I’d take. I couldn’t ever imagine myself doing anything else, really. When I take vacation time it’s always the first place I go. I’ve got a boat down in the Keys.”
He got them settled and shut down the control panel. “The security here is set up to let us know when anyone is approaching, so we’ll be fine. Plus, we’ve got a great view of the show.”
The way the interior of the boat was designed made it look like you were part of whatever was happening outside. And at the moment, Mother Nature was putting on a hell of a show. The rain came down in sheets and visibility was limited too far out, but they could still see the waves crashing violently against the rocks.
“It does this every day?” she asked.
“Afternoon storms. But this one seems a little out of the ordinary,” he admitted. “I checked radar and the forecast and it looks like we’re in for something a little stronger than usual, but it should all clear off sometime during the night. Why? Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m feeling really good, actually,” she said, surprised any medication could’ve been that effective. Especially considering the hell she went through the last time.
“Good, then watch this,” Elias said. “The cliff is blocking the wind, so we should stay dry.”
“What?” Miller asked, confused.
He hit a switch, and the row of windows slowly started to slide open. It was a surreal feeling—the sway of the boat made it seem as if she were standing on the water, the precipice of the storm at her fingertips.
The air was cool and she felt the sea spray against her face. “That’s incredible,” she said.
“Such power. And we’re part of it. At least for a time.
“We might as well start dinner if you’re hungry. We’re going to be stuck here for a while if the radar is anything to go by.”
She was surprised when he joined her in the kitchen, and not just to hand her a beer, though she took it gladly. They’d bought fresh shrimp at the market, along with pasta and the ingredients to make a lemon butter sauce, and she set everything out, letting her mind wander as the storm blew in.
“This could be a problem,” she said, watching the lemons roll from the counter to the floor. She was still trying to find her sea legs, shifting her weight to find her balance.
“Put them in the sink until you need them,” he said. “The boat is equipped with a stabilizer for the pot on the stove. Just be careful not to fill it too full so the water doesn’t slosh out. I’ll put the bread in the oven.”
They worked with ease, and it wasn’t long until the smell had her stomach rumbling. The temperature had cooled things off, but she was warm in the kitchen, and a fine mist coated the all-weather seats beneath the open windows.
“I spent the flight trying to pinpoint various landmarks your brother notated in his letter to you,” he said. “We’ll need to start out early in the morning, catch the tide so we can get there a little quicker. Time is of the essence.”
“Okay, but I can’t promise to be awake or fully functional. I’m used to working night shift. I usually only see the times before ten in the morning if I’ve stayed up all night.”
“I’ll make sure the coffee is on a timer for you,” he said, moving things to the table. It had transformed again, and in the center were indented areas to hold the bowls of food so they didn’t slide off the table. Holes appeared next to each place setting indention that were just the right size for drinks.
“I really need to get one of these tables,” she said.
“It’s a supercomputer, plus a lot of other things,” he said. “But at the core she’s a computer.”
“She?”
His lips twitched. “Her name is Elaine. She’s a patented design, and there aren’t any other organizations in the world who have technology like her.”
You are correct . . . Elaine said. I am one of a kind.
“She listens all the time?” Miller asked, slightly freaked out by the thought.
“When she’s activated,” Elias said. “But she can be put in sleep mode and still have the full capability to know what’s going on around us. She also has the ability to answer questions at her discretion, using the data given. Elaine, what’s your favorite movie?”
I have thousands of movies in my database, but I have to say, my personal favorite is Rear Window with Jimmy Stewart. We should watch it sometime.
“It’s one of my favorites too, Elaine.” He looked at Miller and asked, “What kind of music do you like to listen to?”
“Depends on what I’m writing at the time. Usually movie soundtracks or the old standards—Nat Cole and Billie Holiday.”
“Elaine, play Billie Holiday and form a soundtrack with similar music.”
Good choice, Elias. I enjoy the standards. It seems we have quite a bit in common.
Miller raised her brows, certain that she detected a flirtatious tone in Elaine’s voice. Elias winked at her and grinned. “Thank you, Elaine,” he said as Billie Holiday came on and asked where her lover man could be.
“That’s incredible,” Miller said. “And kind of terrifying. I’m not sure I like the idea of a computer that has that much thinking capability.”
The expression on her face must have given her discomfort away because Elias said, “Elaine, go to sleep mode. I’ll control manually for the evening.”
As you wish . . . And Miller would have sworn she sounded hurt at the dismissal. I will look forward to being woken in the morning. Good night.
They brought the food to the table and dished it into their bowls, breaking off pieces of crusty bread and making small talk, enjoying the music on low in the background. It seemed so . . . normal. Like they’d done it a thousand times before. And she guessed they had, though it had never been just the two of them. There was always a group.
“What I was saying before we started talking about computers,” he said, “is that I’ve located at least one of the markers your brother wrote about. There’s a cleft rock the locals call Corazón Roto. Or ‘broken heart.’ We can use that as a starting place and venture out from there. The waterfall angle is a little more difficult. Waterfalls are pretty prevalent on the Triangle Islands, but I’ve marked out the ones that are tourist attractions.
“We’ve got to remember that during the course of your brother’s journey, he stumbled across the wreckage of your parents’ plane. We can assume it was untouched and that it’s in a remote location. There are two waterfalls that fit this description that I was only able to see from the satellite map imagery. There’s no documentation of them otherwise that I can find. But it looks like the terrain is pretty treacherous, and it’s at least a day hike from Corazón Roto.
“I’ll get the boat as close as I can to the coordinates, and then we’ll have to take off on foot and try to re-create your brother’s steps. The bad news is the waterfalls are in opposite directions, so if we choose the wrong one it’s going to add at least another day to our journey.”
“And if neither of them is what we’re looking for?” she asked.
“Then we’ll go back to the drawing board.”
“What about the pillar he mentions?” she asked.
“I’ve got no clue on that one,” he said. “The mountain areas are pretty dense with jungle, but it could mean anything. A felled tree or something else resembling a pillar. The Galápagos Islands were discovered by the Incans some sixty years before the Spanish ever got here. There are ruins on the main islands, but it’s possible there might be some around here.”
“Part of me hates him for this,” she confessed. “As much as I love my brother, I hate that he’s brought this back to the surface. I’ve spent my whole life trying to forget my childhood. Trying to move past the grief of their death.”
“I hate to say it,” Elias said, “because God knows he and I rarely saw eye to eye the last couple of years we were SEALs together. But maybe he really does have an explanation worth listening to, like he said in his letter. Maybe there’s something bigger that he has no control over.”
She shook her head. She was just so angry. Angry at all of them.
“You’ve got to let it go,” he said. “You can be angry at them and still forgive them for what they did to you. It’ll eat you up inside if you don’t.”
“You know this from experience?” she asked.
“I know what it feels like to be eaten up with anger and the need for revenge. And I know you reach a certain point where it gets harder and harder to become the person you were before. Until you become a person there’s no coming back from.”
She looked away, giving him time to be lost in his own thoughts, and went back to her dinner. It didn’t take them long to eat. “I’ll clean up the dishes,” she told him.
“I’ve never actually heard anyone volunteer to do that before,” he said. “When I was growing up we took turns. My sister Janelle always managed to have band practice, too much homework, or a stomach bug that kept her from getting to experience her turn.”
“Smart girl,” she said. “And where is Janelle now?”
“She’s a schoolteacher down in south Texas,” he said. “She’s got three kids. She’s the middle child, so she has the syndrome. I expect she’ll have a fourth kid before too long so she doesn’t give her own middle child the same endearing personality traits she had growing up.”
“You have a second sister?” she asked, wanting to know more about him. He rarely talked about his personal life, and she could understand why now that she knew they were all considered dead to everyone who’d ever known them.
“Yeah, Katie,” he said. “She’s just finishing up her last year of college. She’s going to take over the world. She was always the bossiest little thing, but she was cute. I was in high school when she was born.”
“I bet that made things interesting,” she said, imagining how a teenage boy would react to the fact that there was physical proof his parents still had sex.
His eyes laughed as they met hers. “It was mortifying. But not surprising. My parents never could keep their hands off each other. Now that I’m older, I realize how nice that was to see growing up. They love each other like crazy.”
The sadness in his eyes kept her from asking any more questions, even though she instinctively knew he’d answer whatever she asked. Miller watched him from her periphery as he cleared the table. When he was done, he grabbed another beer, taking her at her word that she was fine doing the dishes by herself. She appreciated that. Most men would try to impress by insisting on helping. But she could tell Elias had been raised well. He did things without having to be asked, and he did them without fanfare or looking for praise. It was refreshing to see. She’d dated some really interesting “men” who needed constant praise.
She’d always enjoyed mindless tasks where she could let her mind wander. It was the best way to work out a problem or a plot. He grabbed another beer and then turned off the lights over the table, which had transformed back into a flat surface now that they were finished eating, and it cast the front half of the yacht into darkness and displayed the brilliance of the storm to its full potential.
The group of seats were moveable, and he arranged them so there were two pressed together like a chaise, and then he put two more together for her. He dropped back onto the first one and propped his feet up. She’d never seen his bare feet before, though she’d never really had reason to.
“What are you thinking?” she asked as she dried the last of the dishes and put them away. “You don’t usually look so relaxed.”
“I was thinking it’d be a hell of a time to go fishing.”
“You’re kidding. You’d fish in this?” she asked in surprise. “That’s insane.”
“When you go deep-sea fishing, you play the hand God deals as far as the weather goes. It’s a hell of a good time.”
Miller grabbed a bottle of water, but she didn’t take the seat next to him. She was restless. Her mind wouldn’t shut down. All the variables of what could happen. The worry for Justin. The thought of discovering her parents’ plane and wondering if she’d come across their bodies.
She lifted her face to the salty breeze and let her senses take over—the smell of the sea and the crash of waves against the rocks—the rain thunderous as it slapped against the water, and Nat Cole singing about being too young to be in love.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, repeating the earlier question.
His voice was close, but she didn’t turn around. And then he moved in so their bodies didn’t quite touch, and he twined his hands with hers. There was nothing sexual about the connection, but she felt as if she’d never been more intimate with another human being. There was something inherently magical about the moment, and if she could have, she’d have picked this frame of time to last forever.
“I’m thinking this is one of those moments that will still be with me when I’m ninety and my bones are brittle and my eyes cloudy with age.”
“It’s a good moment,” he said, and leaned down to place a soft kiss on the back of her neck.
A shudder went through her at the touch, and he turned her slowly so she was loosely held in his arms. And then he began to move her to the music—Ella this time—her voice heartbreaking as she sang of stardust melodies.
She was floating. It was the only way to describe what it felt like to be in his arms. She’d liked to think herself cynical and worldly and aware when it came to matters of the heart, but being slow danced in Elias Cole’s arms was one of the best feelings she’d ever had.
She didn’t know how long they danced. The songs changed over time and again, and there were moments she didn’t hear the music at all—only his slow, steady heartbeat as she rested her head against his chest.
It was the most natural thing in the world when his lips found hers. Her sigh mixed with his and her heart thudded in her chest, her body pressing into him as if to say finally.
It was different than the last time. It wasn’t a lust-hazed, frantic kiss. There was tenderness, a care that hadn’t been there before, and when his tongue stroked hers she felt the pull of desire low in her belly.
Her hands stroked and caressed, while he made love to her mouth, dancing her slowly toward the chairs he’d moved together. She felt small next to him, his body hard where hers was soft, and the heat of him enveloped her. Her hands roamed across his back and up his broad shoulders, to the muscled biceps that made her want to take a bite out of him. Their mouths parted briefly as he pulled her sweater over her head, but she barely noticed. Her fingers were busy tugging at the hem of his shirt, lifting it so she could feel the taut muscles of his stomach.
She wanted to commit every sensation and feeling to memory. The gentle sway of the boat and the dampness of the rain across her skin. The way his hand felt against her back as he unclasped her bra and left her bared before him, and his soft swear as he helped her take his shirt off. The way her hands fumbled with the button of his pants before she pushed them and his briefs down, and the weight of his body as he followed her onto the makeshift bed.
Hands moved with more urgency, his mouth devoured her lips, her neck, and his lips finally found her nipple, his tongue swirling around the taut bud. She felt every suckle in the pulsing of her clitoris. Her skirt was rucked around her thighs, and she wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him closer. But he kept kissing his way down, across her stomach and to the elastic waistband of her skirt. He tugged it gently and she lifted her hips, and he pulled it and the black panties she wore from her legs and let them drop to the floor.
“Please don’t make me wait any longer,” she begged.
He came down on top of her, his breathing ragged as her arms came around him in a lover’s embrace.
“No, I won’t,” he said. “We’ve waited long enough.”
His hands locked with hers, and she reveled in the heat and weight of his body, the hardness of his muscles combined with the coarse hair on his chest that brought new sensations across her breasts. She opened for him, her legs twining around his waist.
“Miller,” he said, his eyes steady on her. And then he slid into her, and she saw brilliant light as her eyelids fluttered closed. “No, look at me.”
It was too much. But she did as he asked. Her body moved fluidly with his, a different kind of dance this time, but beautiful in motion.
She felt the pressure build inside her, her hips rising and falling to meet his. Their skin was damp with rain and passion, and her hands slid up his back, gripping his shoulders and trying to find an anchor in the storm raging around her. Cries escaped her lips, and she heard him chant her name over and over again.
The orgasm rolled through her, building and building in intensity, and she cried out his name as he finally let go and emptied himself into her.