Chapter Eleven
He was one of the suspects, and she was in his room. Getting this far, close enough to retrieve her mother’s ring, sent her excitement soaring. With each step forward into the room, she tried to slow her breathing. Calm down. She’d never get it back if she blew this lie right now.
In an attempt to steady herself, she skated her hand over the smooth wood surface of the dresser. Then along the soft cotton sheets on the bed. She kept her small bag open and across her shoulder, cell phone on as Bear had instructed. The fact that Bryan was listening in gave her the confidence to see this thing through.
Kenna didn’t see any of the stolen items out in the open. Which meant she’d have to search for them.
But where and how? Now she regretted her stubbornness in pushing Bryan’s help away. He’d probably know exactly where to look. She lowered her hand to where her phone rested inside. She needed to distract Michael enough so she could talk with Bryan and search the room.
Michael came up behind her, standing close enough that she could feel his arousal against her backside. He bent to kiss her shoulder, working his way up the column of her neck to her jaw. He tried nudging her face toward him, but she stepped forward and turned around.
“So,” she said. “This is a nice room.”
“It’s even nicer now that you’re in it.”
She held off a groan. Bear heard that played-out line and was most likely laughing right now.
Michael placed a hand at the base of her spine and pulled her toward him. “So how do you want to do this?”
Spotting a bottle of pinot on the cabinet across the room, she beelined for it. “Why don’t we get to know each other a little more first?” She lifted the bottle with a grin.
His expression slipped, showing disappointment, before he recovered. “Sure.” He took the bottle from her and opened a drawer by the windows, pulling out an opener and two goblets.
Keeping her distance, she walked the room. He came up behind her and kissed her bare shoulder again, making her jump slightly. A glass of red wine came into view, and she snatched it as if it was her savior.
Michael placed his hand in hers and pulled her with him to the bed. He tugged, and she collapsed next to him, nearly landing in his lap. Scooting a few inches away, she readjusted herself and cleared her throat.
“You seem anxious,” Michael said, sliding a thick piece of her hair over her shoulder.
“Not at all.” She worked to not recoil from his touch. Michael’s fingers were soft and smooth across her skin. He had the hands of a man who crunched numbers all day. There wasn’t anything wrong with that, but it wasn’t her kind of man. She liked someone who wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. A man whose fingers were rough and callused from manual labor. Someone who could handle anything at a moment’s notice. No matter the situation. Michael seemed like the type who was really good at calling someone else to do the dirty work.
He deposited his drink on the nearby table, then tried to take her glass from her while leaning his face close to hers.
“Mmmm, this wine is sooo good,” she said, gently pulling it back and taking another drink.
His face fell, and he settled next to her, brushing his knuckles down her arm.
“You smell so good,” he said, nudging his nose in the crook of her neck. “What perfume are you wearing?”
“None,” she said, trying not to notice the fact that he wore way too much. A very distinct scent of sweet vinegar and lemon. It was giving her a headache.
“Oh.” He froze. “Well, it must just be the essence of you. I’m addicted to it.”
She closed her eyes and held off another groan. Yep, Bear would’ve heard that generic line, too.
She couldn’t stall all night, she knew that. So it was time to put her plan into action. Mission: Get Michael Out of the Room commence.
He continued to root in her neck, so she braced an arm behind her on the bed and leaned away from him. “You know what I could really go for right now?”
“What’s that?” Michael smirked with hidden meaning behind the expression.
Definitely not that, buddy.
“A hot shower.” She tried to make it sound more sexual than she’d meant. Not the most thought-out plan, but it was something. Hopefully she could keep him in the bathroom long enough to find something incriminating.
His eyes widened slowly, and his smirk turned into a full-watt grin. He was on his feet in seconds, bringing her with him, nearly making her spill her wine. She righted her glass just in time. Thank goodness. That would’ve been a waste of decent wine.
She lifted her chin as she downed another healthy mouthful of wine, then placed the glass on the table beside his. “Want to get the water ready? I’ll be in shortly.”
Michael hurried into the bathroom.
Kenna reached into her purse and pulled her phone out, holding it at her side.
“Almost ready?” Michael peered around the doorway.
She walked to the bathroom door and glided a finger down the bridge of his nose. “Go ahead and get in. I’m just getting myself ready for you.” His eyes showed impatience before she closed the door. And she winced. Getting herself ready for him? God, this was embarrassing.
Sounds of Michael getting into the shower, then “Ready when you are!”
“Yeah, yeah,” she mumbled to herself. “Coming!” she said loud enough for his benefit.
Propping her phone between her shoulder and ear, she whispered, “If you were a bad guy and you wanted to hide something in your hotel room, where would you put it?”
“In the safe,” Bear’s tense voice came back. “But if he’s smart, it’s gonna be locked.”
Worth a try. She opened the closet and turned the small black handle on the door of the safe. “Yep, locked.”
“Check all the drawers and under the bed.”
Kenna pulled the drawers open, one by one, and upon finding them empty, she shut them and moved onto the next. She got down on her hands and knees, and using the phone’s screen for light, she looked under the bed.
“Nothing,” she said. “I don’t see anything.”
“Luggage,” Bear said. “Where’s his luggage?”
“Good idea.”
She went back to the closet—
“Kenna?” Michael said, and then the shhh of the shower door opening.
Shit!
She pushed the bathroom door open and peeked around with just her shoulder, neck, and head. With her strapless dress, it made it look like she wasn’t wearing anything.
“Yeah, stud?”
He had soap in his hair that dripped down the side of his head. Thankfully, the steam in the room saved her from getting a full frontal view of his goods. “There you are. I thought you’d left. Come on in. The water’s fine.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“Yep,” she said. “Just taking off my very slinky, barely there undies.” She spun, pulling the door closed behind her.
She rested her back against the door and put the phone back to her ear. Undies? God almighty, what was wrong with her?
“Barely there undies?” Bear said with a smirk in his tone.
“Shut up.”
Stepping forward, she slid the closet door open and pulled his luggage out, quickly unzipping the two suitcases to search inside.
Empty.
Empty.
Empty.
Damn it.
“Nothing,” she said in a hushed screech, heart racing. “I don’t see anything! It’s not here!”
“Your assignment’s over,” Bear said. “Get the hell out of there. Now.”
“But—” Kenna hesitated to do another sweep of the room. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She must have missed something. The items had to be here. This might be her last chance. She had to—
“Kenna?” Michael said. “Kenna, come on. I’m getting all pruney.”
Right. Time to go.
“I’m sorry, Michael,” she shouted as she passed the bathroom. “You’re nice, but I can’t do this!”
She ripped the entry door open and dashed down the hallway toward the elevators.
Once the gold doors opened, she threw herself inside and wilted against the wall, waiting for the quick jolt of gravity. Despair hit her sharp and fast. That sham was for nothing. And despite the fact that Michael had sex on the mind, he still seemed like a genuinely okay guy. A bit ordinary in his advances, but she couldn’t hold that against him. He was decent. Deep down she knew Michael wasn’t the thief. So now she felt doubly bad for thinking he was and for leading him on when she’d had no intention of going through with it.
She was no closer to finding her mom’s ring than she was before.
Despair gave way to helplessness, which quickly morphed into anger. If she couldn’t control getting her ring back, she needed to blame someone for it. And the easiest target at the moment was the man who caused her to lose the ring in the first place. The man she was starting to have feelings for again. Starting to trust again.
Trust. Trust wasn’t something she freely gave anymore. Bryan had shown her how detrimental it could be. When she relinquished control, when she gave him the reins and let him guide her future, she ended up with nothing but disappointment and a broken heart.
If Bryan had come home all those years ago like he’d promised, that ring would’ve been safely on her finger and unavailable to steal. Sure, it wouldn’t have stopped Claire’s watch or Estelle’s brooch from being taken, but at least Kenna could help find those items with a clearer head.
Instead, Claire and Estelle would lose out anyway. And Kenna would have to leave this island without her most precious piece of jewelry—the final goodbye to not only her late mother, but also to Bear.
He’d done this to her.
…
Tyke paced the carpet in his suite, waiting for the sound of Kenna approaching. He’d opened the door twice already and looked down the hall. He continued pacing. Walked out onto the patio, gazed out at the ocean, listened to the sound of the waves crashing, then came back in and paced some more.
His room was on the ninth floor; Michael’s room was on the sixth. The wait for her to travel three floors was excruciating. The image of her in another man’s room—making sexual promises, no matter how fake—was more than he could process. Thinking about Michael touching her. His lips on her. Tyke had heard more lips smacking onto skin than he cared to.
His hands curled into fists as he stomped across the room. He opened the mini fridge, looked in, but couldn’t focus enough to see what was inside, so he slammed the thing closed.
Finally, he heard someone sliding the card into the door and then the handle clicking open.
She walked in and he released a long breath.
Thank Christ.
Without acknowledging him, Kenna dropped her bag onto the dresser closest to the door and then walked across the room, sliding the door open to the balcony. Once outside, she leaned on the railing with folded arms, her head falling forward and shoulders lifting up and down on deep breaths.
He followed her out, resting back against the glass door. “You did good tonight. You were smart and kept your cool.”
“Gee, thanks,” she said, not turning.
He pushed to stand. “I’m serious. I was impressed.”
She snorted. “Because that was my main focus. To impress you.”
His jaw locked down, and he worked hard not to lash out at her. It was their thing. Going at each other like a pack of rabid dogs. She’d say something sarcastic, and then he’d go back at her with something hurtful. He knew she was frustrated at not finding the missing items, so he was trying to be patient.
But he was Tyke, and his patience only went so far.
“Kenna,” he said, moving toward her, stopping just before making contact.
She whirled and shoved him in his chest. “I don’t belong to you anymore. Get that through your big head, okay?”
He stumbled back a step. “What the hell are you—?”
“You don’t have the right to make me feel this way,” she went on, her eyes blazing. “You’re the one who didn’t come back, remember? Not me.”
He touched his chest to hers. “I know what the hell I did. You don’t have to keep reminding me.”
“Yes, I do!” she shouted into the dark night. “Because you don’t listen!”
“I don’t listen?” He let out a sharp laugh. “Look in the mirror, sweetheart. You’re the one who went traipsing into some other man’s room with the pretense of sex.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Traipsing? You’ve got a lot of nerve, Bryan. If you hadn’t…” She slammed her lips together. “Maybe I wouldn’t have had to be in another man’s room if you hadn’t…if you hadn’t…” She looked away, her jaw working.
“If I hadn’t what?” he said, bringing his face closer to her level. “Go ahead. Say it. What did I do this time?” He’ll just add it to the list.
“I had to do it,” she bit out, ignoring his question. She was staring to her left at the vast expanse of darkness. A few faint glows from some of the resort activities below illuminated the outline of her face. When she brought her gaze back to him, her eyes were hard and unwavering. It was turning him on, watching that fire ignite and burn out of control. “I had to go to Michael’s room. I had to act like I was interested in him. My ring is gone, and I need to do whatever I can to get it back. Whatever it takes.”
He brushed the backs of his fingers down her cheek. In a rasp, he said, “I told you I’ll handle it. I’m gonna get it back for you.”
She let out a dark chuckle. “Like I’m going to trust you to keep your word.”
His hand dropped. How the hell was he supposed to prove to her that in this instance she could trust him? He was going to come through for her. He might’ve failed her in the past, but just this once he was going to make things right.
“Kenna, I know it goes against your naturally stubborn-ass nature, but please. I’m begging you. This is what I’m good at. Let me do it. Let me make this right for you.” He paused. “I have to make this right.”
She blinked a few times, her gaze thawing to blue liquid as she digested what he’d said.
Come on. Give in.
“I…I can’t,” she said almost to herself. “I can’t. I have to do this. It’s up to me. I went into Michael’s room on my own, and I’ll do anything else I have to on my own.”
“Don’t torture me like that anymore,” he said, jealousy rising again.
She started, her eyes displaying her surprise. “What?”
“Don’t do that again,” he repeated. “It was complete torture. Knowing where you were and who you were with, not being able to do anything but listen. The sounds of another man touching you. Putting his mouth on you. It took everything I had not to march in there and break his fucking neck.”
Kenna swallowed, but she didn’t look away.
“Worse,” he went on, heat beginning to course through him. “I started picturing me in that room with you.” He ran a hand down her side, gripped her thigh, and hoisted it up over his hip.
Her breath hitched.
“Everything,” he said in a strangled voice. “I remember every goddamn sound you used to make when I touched you. It fucking haunts me every time I close my eyes.”
He spun them so her back was against the glass door. He pulled her other leg up around him and stepped into her spread legs, covering her with his body. He dipped his mouth to her throat, running his tongue along the warm, bare skin, giving him the satisfaction of hearing her quick inhale.
“Bryan,” she breathed, gripping his shirt like she was ready to rip it off.
“This,” he growled. “This was what I was doing to you. Not him. Me.”
“W-what else?” she said. “What else did you do to me?”
He grabbed hold of the tangles at her mid-back and tugged. Her chin flew up and her back arched off the door, exposing the rest of her neck. He took full advantage, working his way up with his teeth and tongue.
She locked her legs and writhed her core against him.
Pulling back slightly, he cupped one of her breasts over her dress. “Now these…these are a hell of a lot bigger than I remember.” He kneaded her through the fabric, but it wasn’t enough. Forcing her strapless dress down toward her stomach, he coaxed her tits from the tight hold. They fell out, heavy and full. They were his for the taking. He roughly played with one nipple, which was now at full alert. Squeezing her breast, he tipped it up and sucked the ever-loving fuck out of the thing.
Kenna groaned loud and forceful, which sent his desire into overload. Goddamn, he missed that sound.
Bracing an arm under her ass, he reached between them, searching for what he knew would be his undoing. One quick slide of his fingers against her heat, and she gasped. He wanted more. A hell of a lot more.
Tyke wrapped his fist around the front of her panties, feeling the smooth, silky skin underneath, and gave the skimpy fabric a forceful tug. It shredded in his hands and fell to the balcony floor beneath his feet.
When he touched her without any barrier, feeling her wet and ready for him, it made him so hard he didn’t think he’d ever find release. He couldn’t. He’d been this way from the moment he’d left, and he’d continue this way for the rest of his life. Only with Kenna. She was his ruin.
“Bryan,” she said, her voice soft and pleading. “Oh God, Bryan.” Grabbing at the hem of his shirt, she jerked it upward.
“Forget it.” He sure as hell wasn’t taking either hand away from her to help get the shirt off.
“But I want to see you,” she whimpered. “Touch you.”
“You wanna touch something? Here. This is what I need you to touch.” He pulled back enough to pop the button of his shorts and lower the zipper. His erection sprang out of his pants, and with the way she started working herself against him, it landed just right to ignite his climb.
She moaned as she slid along his shaft in long, fluid motions.
He closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to her shoulder. Fuck. He wasn’t even inside her yet, and he was ready to blow.
“Kenna,” he said, clamping a hand onto her full hip. “Slow down.”
“No.” She reached for his dick and lifted herself up, trying to seat herself on him. “I…I want…I don’t know. Just do it.” Her voice was wild. Frantic.
He wanted her. More than anything. He needed the release, and he wanted to be the one to give her one. But not like this. Not because he was jealous out of his mind and because she was desperate to forget.
They had a shit ton of baggage and sleeping together tonight wouldn’t do anything to solve that. If anything, it would make it worse. She deserved not to be screwed over. He’d done that enough for one lifetime.
He stopped moving and loosened his hold on her ass. After a few seconds, she got the message and stopped, too.
She glanced at him with a confused expression. “What is it?”
“Kenna…”
She must’ve seen something extinguish in his eyes, because hers hardened and her lips pinched. She wiggled against him, which didn’t do anything to help his hard-on die. He let her drop, and once on her feet, she looked up at him and cracked her palm across his cheek. “Fuck you.”
Kenna stomped into the room, slamming the glass door closed behind her.
He stood on the balcony, dick hanging out of his pants, staring after her.
He’d lost his head. Coming on to her. Touching her. Then slamming on the brakes, which probably wasn’t the smartest move. But he couldn’t think clearly around her.
He wanted Kenna. He shouldn’t. He didn’t have the right. But damn if he could convince himself otherwise. Fuck, what he wouldn’t give to go back in time. Back to when she was his. Back before all the shit. Before fate threw him a curveball of epic proportions.
Before 9/11 hit, and he suddenly felt patriotic and wanted to do something about it. So he’d enlisted. Wasn’t until he was overseas, fighting for a cause he didn’t understand, getting sent on missions he didn’t agree with that he realized the error in his ways. He’d promised Kenna he’d come back to her. They’d start their life together.
But then his convoy was blown up. The docs gave him the bad news. And suddenly, everything they’d planned had evaporated around him. Poof. Gone. So he decided to walk. To give her the chance to lead a full and fulfilling life. Without him.
And when this week was over, he was going to have to do it again. He’d have to leave her knowing that no matter how bad it hurt, it would be nothing compared to the agony of knowing if she stayed with him, he’d never give her the one thing in the world she always wanted: a family.