“I’m doing everything I can.”   The head of ship’s security prowled the small cooking area angrily.  “I don’t need an amateur telling me how to do my job.”

Gina Ryan cleared her throat.  “Um—he’s not exactly an amateur, Tobias.  Trace is in the Navy.”

“So what?  If he was any good, he’d be in the Marines.”

Since Trace O’Halloran happened to be a Navy SEAL, he simply smiled.  “Ex-jarhead, eh?  I should have figured you for that.” 

“Yeah, I’m an ex-Marine.  And I’ve got my men working on that video feed,” the security officer said stiffly.  “I’ve also got a computer expert coming aboard to beef up the galley network when we reach Mazatlan.”

“Not good enough.”

Gina shook her head.  The men were striking sparks off each other, playing like it was a boy’s club with a boy’s rules.  Those rules were partly what had driven her out of her last job.

But this wasn’t Seattle, and she wasn’t running ever again.

 “We’ve got to do something to stop this sabotage.”

“Let her think she’s winning, then ambush her from a rearguard action.  Remember, all warfare is based on
deception.”

“What is that, some kind of Navy motto?”

“No, it’s Chinese.  Very old military advice from a genius named Sun Zi.”

Gina scowled at the stairs leading up to the passenger decks.  “So I can’t just go kick her butt?”

“Nice for instant gratification, but not a long-term solution.”

“Okay, how about I grip her throat and strangle the last ounce of life out of her?”

“Nix on the strangulation, too.  It’s illegal.”

“What kind of date are you?  Can’t a girl have any fun?”

Trace O’Halloran’s lip curved.  “Is this a date we’re having?  I thought it was more like a security consultation.”

“It’s turning into a little of both.  Sort of.  Did I say thank you?”

“Not recently.”

“Thank you.  I mean it.”  Gina stood uncertainly, then gave in to pure instinct.  Leaning close, she kissed him fast but thoroughly.   Their mouths clung.  Somehow their tongues slid close, teasing with sheer heat.  She felt his hand rise, skimming through her hair.

She meant to pull away but somehow that plan went out the window.

There was more, she thought dimly.  With this man there would be fire and surprise and risk.  But she sensed the risks would be worth it.

She bit his lip gently and felt him do the same, following her lead smoothly.  When she teased him with her tongue, she gave the same response.

Her knees turned weak.

Oh, the man was good.  Way too good for her.  He knew moves that she’d never heard of.

Then his breath caught.  She felt his hands tense on her cheek.

Nice to know that he was feeling a little shaken too.  Gina had never felt a kiss burn so deep.  Her own heart was hammering so hard that she rubbed her hand protectively on her chest.  When she pulled away, he watched her in tense silence.

No answers.  Only more questions.

So she’d keep it casual.  “Okay.  Now we’ve got all the unpleasantness over with.  First kiss syndrome and all that.”

His eyes were very dark.  “I’m hoping there will be more.  I like how you taste, Gina.”

She blew out a little breath, aware of people passing.  “No fair saying things like that.  I’m trying to stay calm here.  In case you forgot, this is a public place.  Gossip on a ship can be murder.”

She stepped away, feeling his arms tighten, then release her reluctantly.  “You didn’t have to come along, you know.  Blaine is my problem.”

“Are you kidding?”  He moved easily beside her.  “This is the most fun I’ve had in three days.  A few hours ago I was ready to stick a fork in my eye, just for the distraction value.”

“You really are having a terrible cruise, aren’t you?  Usually people love our ship.  There’s always something exciting happening on board.”

“It’s not the events.  The facilities are fine.”  Trace cleared his throat.  “It’s the female passengers—too much grabbing.”

“You mean being stalked?  Welcome to the brave new world of high seas cruising.”  Gina glanced down at his hand.  “You could try wearing a wedding ring.”  Then she shrugged.  “Probably wouldn’t make any difference.  A man like you would always be fair game.”

Trace muttered and shook his head he matched his stride to Gina’s.

“Not that I’m criticizing,” Gina muttered.  “If a woman wants serial sex, that’s her privilege.  Ditto for the man.”

His eyes cut to hers.  “And you don’t?”

“Personal question.  This is a security consultation, remember?”

“And a partial date.  You need to eat and I’m prepared to feed you.”  His eyes darkened.  “All night long, if you want.”

Her breath tightened in her chest.  Yes, she wanted to say.  But this man was a near stranger, and she didn’t have sex with strangers.  Not even strangers who had saved her life.

She avoided his eyes and walked faster.  “You really don’t have to come with me to my cabin.  I doubt I’ll be attacked in the corridor or pursued across the aft deck.”

“I’ve finally got something to do.  You think I’m giving that up now?  I was one step removed from body restraints and enforced confinement until this happened.” 

Gina shook her head.  “You really are an alpha-personality, aren’t you?”

“Name of the game.  You must know about that, running a busy kitchen.”

Gina rolled her shoulders.  “Tempers can turn short when we’re counting down the final minutes before a major event.  The funny thing is, when you work together long enough, you know how to turn an angry comment into a joke.  The laughter keeps us steady, able to cope.”

He held open the door as they reached the end of the hall.  “Your field style is admirable, Ms. Ryan.”

Gina felt a blush cross her face.  Ridiculous.  Why should his compliments leave her breathless?  “I have a feeling your field style is pretty good too, Lieutenant.”

But she wasn’t thinking about his skills at fighting.  She was imagining him in bed, rugged and fierce.  She imagined finding out how that tough body looked and felt naked under her fingers.

And that though led to serious mental meltdown.

After they took an elevator down two decks, Gina stopped outside an end cabin and dug in her pocket for a card key.  “You really don’t have to stay—“

“I’m staying,” Trace said crisply.  “Then I’ll walk you back to the kitchen.  Tobias is nobody’s fool, and he seems to think you should take basic precautions.  Now go find that list of missing emails that he wanted.  I’ll be right outside.”  His jaw hardened.  “Just don’t take too long or I may decide to come in, and then we’d get very distracted fast.”

Gina stared at him.  “I appreciate what you’re doing.  But if you’re expecting this to go anywhere—well, don’t.  You’ll be disappointed.”

“Go?”  His face was unreadable.

“Don’t play dumb.  As in a relationship.  As in a week of uninhibited shipboard sex.”  She shook her head.  “It’s not happening, Trace.”  

“Don’t worry,” he said calmly.  “I won’t crowd you.”

Which wasn’t exactly an answer, Gina realized.  But he didn’t seem  ruffled by her warning, so she let the subject drop.  After all, a gorgeous man like this could pick and choose, and there was no reason he’d pick her.

He waited at the door while she searched her desk, found a sheet of notes, and then flipped out the desk light.  When she looked up, he was studying at the room.  “What?”

“You don’t spend much time here, do you?  No posters.  No photos.  No knickknacks.  Strictly a place to sleep.”

For some reason the on-target assessment made Gina uncomfortable.  “Sleeping is all I have time for, outside work.”

When he didn’t move, she frowned at him.  “What now?”

“Something’s off.  You just don’t strike me as a cook.  You look more active.  A lot more cynical, too.”

Another assessment that struck deep.

“Things happened.  One day I woke up and said, ‘Gee, why don’t I make a mango chocolate cheesecake today.’”

Flippant was best.  Things weren’t going to get personal, after all.

She waved the paper as she walked past.  “I never wondered why three of my emails would go missing at once.  I should have paid more attention.”

“Everyone’s got 20/20 hindsight,” Trace said dryly.  He stood outside the door, legs apart, body relaxed but alert.  Full bodyguard mode, Gina realized.

She didn’t know why the thought was so comforting.  She wasn’t in any real danger, and she could handle Blaine.

She hoped she could.

“Be prepared.  Things will probably get nastier before this is over.”

Gina closed her door and started walking, her expression fierce.  “So what do I do next?”

“Watch your back.  Trust no one.  Back up all you important computer files and hide them in a safe place—better yet mail a copy to yourself.”

Gina sighed.  “Defensive paranoia.  Gee, there’s a positive life philosophy.”  She stopped walking so suddenly that Trace almost ran into her.

“Increase your perimeter surveillance.  Then update your base of operations and security.  Work on field of fire and enemy reconnaissance.”

“Field of fire?  That’s a little dramatic.”

“Symbolic but very real.  Protect your back always.  Keep records, lock your computers, and watch kitchen access at all times.”

That made sense, Gina thought.  Why hadn’t she started sooner?  “You’re really into this stuff, aren’t you?”  Gina shivered a little. 

“It’s what I am.  What I do,” he said flatly.

Gina heard the edge in his voice.  “I think I’ve heard enough.”

“Since you asked for suggestions, you get the whole enchilada.”  Trace’s eyes narrowed.  “I’d say there’s someone inside passing information to your competition.  It may be someone very close to you.”

She shivered again and then felt Trace’s linen sport coat slide around her shoulders.  Still warm with the heat of his body, it enveloped her in the energy of the man in a way that was palpably intimate.  She caught the smell of citrus and leather. 

The faint male scent of him.

Here, she thought blindly.  Here was the need, like rain after months of dry days.

Here was the hunger, sprouting through urgent, parched earth.

Because she wanted to touch his hard jaw, she closed her hands and turned away.  Forgotten on a deck chair, a paperback book shot across the deck.  Carried by the wind, it struck her ankle.

She stumbled, wincing.

He pulled his jacket tighter across her shoulders as the wind picked up.  In the process, his hand grazed her breast.

Gina shivered.  Neither moved, struck by an aching awareness that made them feel alone beneath twilight sky and racing waves.  Caught in a racing shimmer of nerve and need, Gina would have done anything to feel more.

But he had warned her clearly.  He was tough and temporary.  She’d seen enough to know that he was a professional who got the job done, no matter the risks or the odds.  That kind of man would never get too close, and he’d walk away without a backward glance.

So why did she suddenly want to be pulled against that rugged body, to lose herself in the anonymous crush of his strong arms?

Because strangers didn’t ask questions.  A man like this would have no expectations of a shared future.   He wouldn’t press her or make demands.

Hot, detached sex.  Amazing, impersonal sex.  That’s what he’d want.

Okay.  Right now that sounded good to her.

She didn’t have time or energy to play games, explore his interests and build a gradual relationship.  All she had was now.

So instead of moving away, the way she had planned, Gina leaned in closer, surprising herself as much as him when she felt her breast meet his open palm.

His mouth tightened.  “What are you doing?” he said roughly.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Obvious enough.  But why?”

“Why not?”­

He looked down at his hand, fingers open, unmoving against her blouse.  A muscle moved at his jaw.  “This isn’t you, Gina.  You’re a white-picket fence, three-and-a-half-kids kind of woman.”

“Was,” she said, feeling a little dizzy and a little frightened.  “I used to think I needed those things.  
Now I know I don’t.”

“You don’t play fair, you know that?”  He took a harsh breath.  He seemed to use raw force of will to step away from her.  His hands rose slowly, settled at her shoulders and then tightened.  “What happened to make you change?”

Gina leaned into the wind, feeling it cut across her shoulders.  “I…grew up.  It happens to everyone, I’m told.”

She watched him pull his jacket tighter around her, turning his back to block the wind.  “I’m not asking you for your life story.  So why are you questioning me?”

“Because this all feels… wrong.”  He frowned.  “Because you look tired and just a little wobbly.”

She was definitely feeling tired and more than a little unsteady on her feet.  She hadn’t been sleeping well, hadn’t been able to relax for weeks.

“So carry me back to your cabin.”  She linked her hands behind his neck and let herself soak up the heat of his body.   “Ply me with wine and talk me into bed.  You might get lucky tonight, Navy.”

He muttered beneath his breath.  “I’m not going to take advantage of you when you’re tired and distracted.”

“If I want this, it’s not taking advantage.”  She was irritated, confused.  What did a woman have to do to get seduced?

 “Want what, Gina?  Say the words.”  His voice fell.  “You want hard, impersonal, sweaty sex all night in my bed?  Lock the door, anything goes—you’re okay with that?”

She gripped his jacket, feeling her hands tremble, trying to hide her jolt of nerves.  She fought a wave of unsteadiness and raised her chin, defiant.  “I just said that, didn’t I?” 

“Yeah, you said it.  But I’m not buying.  Something’s going on.  Hell, you’re so cold you’re shaking.”

“Fine, you’re not interested.  Goodbye, adios, sayonar.”  She felt a little disoriented.   More than a little drunk, too, even though she’d had next to no wine.  “In that case, I’ll just find someone else.”  She blurted out the words, seeing the deck dim in the gathering darkness.  She swayed slightly, but pushed away his steadying hand.  “Don’t need any help.  You deliver a nice, clean brush off, Lieutenant.”

“This isn’t a brush off, damn it.”

The back of her head throbbed.  The pain was different from anything she’d had before.  When she moved, she felt slow and clumsy, like someone trying to push through Jello. 

What was wrong with her?

“Look at me.”  The voice was too rough, too close.  He held her chin, staring at her face.

She shoved at his hands.  “Go away. You brushed me off, remember?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Don’t know.”  The words slurred just a little.  “C-cold, I think.  Maybe…flu.  Need to go.”   She stared around her, blinking.

Twilight had bled into night.  The sun was a thin line of gray in the west trapped by black water.

Rubbing her forehead, Gina tried to drive away the knife points of pain at her neck.  “Going…going inside.  But just for the record, this has been a really r-rotten date.  Probably my fault.”

She faced the wind, gripping his coat when the wind picked up.  “No.  Your fault.  You asked all the questions, made the lame excuses.”   Things felt blurry,  and when Gina rubbed her forehead it felt like slow motion.  “Going now, Navy.  Don’t feel so good.  In f-fact—“

He caught her as she fell.

#

Trace still wasn’t sure exactly what had happened.  Gina had simply plummeted.  Now she was draped over his arm like a wet towel.

He remembered she had rubbed her head, then taken one of the pills from a bottle in her pocket.

Headache remedy, hell.

He slid an arm around her waist, steadied her against his chest, and managed to take her pulse.  It was slow but steady.  Her color was passable if a little pale, but she’d been pale before.  Thigh to thigh, he guided her down the deck.  She stirred once, shoving at his arm and muttering something about crème fraiche and a candy thermometer.

Trace almost smiled.  She was off in a world he knew nothing about, and she was damned good at handling that world. But he couldn’t get the idea of pill tampering out of his mind, and it was making him see red.  He thought about carrying her down to her cabin in the crew area, but he didn’t want to cause attention. Better to go back to his cabin one floor up and let her rest until she came around.

A young couple passed, smiling as they saw Trace’s arm around Gina and her head on his shoulder.  The very picture of romance, he thought wryly.

Except she was out cold.  And he was pretty certain it was because of tainted medicine

Keeping one arm around Gina, he started walking toward his cabin.

*     *     *

Five minutes later he had her settled on his bed.

She snuggled closer and sniffed his neck.  “Cinnamon.  Smells good.”

Her hand slid along his chest and worked under his shirt, pulling him closer.  “Nice.”

Uh-oh.

Trace tried to ease away.   “Time to hit the sack, honey.”

“Mwggh.”  She buried her face in his chest.

“Back to earth.  Let’s get you tucked in.”

But Gina moved restlessly, one arm stretched across his shoulder.  Her other hand tunneled under his shirt.

Trace began to sweat.

Focus, dog-brain.

He tried to maneuver her onto her side, but she rolled onto her back.

Then, with a little sigh, she slid back onto his chest.

Trace’s jaw locked as her hand worked beneath his belt and burrowed toward the hot, aching skin beneath.

Trace bit back a curse as her hands closed around him.  This was major trouble.  He didn’t want or need complications, yet here was an unforgettable complication staring him in the face.

Gently, he pulled Gina’s hand out of the red zone and rolled her across the bed.  She muttered a protest and tried to pull away, but he ignored her.

His hands only shook a little as he verified she was breathing well.  Her color was good and her pulse normal.

Meanwhile his own pulse was a little unsteady. 

He’d seen more women naked than he could remember, so there was no logical reason for the sight of a fully dressed woman stretched out groggy on his bed to leave him fully aroused.

But the evidence was unavoidable.   The tight stretch of his zipper reminded him how long it had been since he’d had a woman in his bed.

No, not going there.

Grimly, Trace pulled off Gina’s shoes.

She twisted, tangled in his sheets, muttering something about rose petals and buttercream.  Cooking again.

He took a harsh breath and forced his eyes away from her breasts, outlined perfectly against soft white cotton.  But the minute he looked down, she twisted restlessly.  Every movement gave him a glimpse of long, trim legs and gorgeous thighs with curves in all the right places.

He cursed softly.  He couldn’t deny the personal attraction.  He couldn’t pretend that her body didn’t drive him right up the wall.

What in hell was happening to him?  They were strangers with absolutely zip in common.  This woman’s life was wedding ganache and lemon cream; his life was free fire zones and high-yield det cord.

But she was here now, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her.  Sweat trickled down his forehead as he fought a dangerous temptation to do a whole lot more than just look.

She was smart and prickly and sexy and he would have her moaning for him in seconds, making soft, breathless sighs as he wrapped those sexy legs around him and brought them both to brain-gelling climax.

“Brioche.  Cheesecake—not done.”  Gina twisted restlessly and shoved his quilt aside.  Her lacy sweater pulled up, revealing a glorious curve of stomach and the edge of red panties. 

He tried hard not to stare at the bright line of red lace.

CODE NAME: BIKINI
June 27, 2007