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“I’m sorry I disturbed you.” She started to swing her legs back over the chair, but he didn’t want to let her go just yet.
“Why do you read out loud like that?”
She looked back, obviously wishing she’d been able to succeed with her abrupt dismissal, but then stopped and shrugged.
“I spend a lot of time in front of a computer. Sometimes the surroundings are noisy, so I read out loud while I work, it makes it easier to concentrate. I guess it just got to be a habit. I never really noticed.”
“That makes sense.”
She tipped her sunglasses back up on her face, fully covering her eyes. “Sorry again for bothering you.”
“No problem.”
When he lay back on his towel, all he could hear was the slosh of the waves and the voices of the volleyball players. He almost asked her to start reading again.
SARAH HELD her book in front of her face, but she couldn’t concentrate on Rose and Russell’s antics anymore, not that she had been all that into it in the first place. The sex being described on the page had heated up considerably when the man behind her had decided to share his opinion on what a woman felt when a man was inside her.
It was something Sarah tried not to think about too often. She knew a lot about sex, more than she wanted to. She was exposed to the seedier side of it as part of her job, and suffice it to say it was nothing like what Rose and Russell were experiencing.
She snorted softly to herself. Nothing about sex was like what Rose and Russell were experiencing. Sex could be fun and relaxing at best, and as for the worst, well, she wouldn’t go there. She saw too much of it in her work. Her job allowed her to think she’d made a difference in the world, but along the way, she knew something inside her had been irrevocably lost.
That sense of loss, combined with scars from her past, had left her sleeping alone for several years now. She’d gotten used to it and even preferred it; she knew how to take the edge off when she really needed to. Men were an unnecessary complication, and sometimes a dangerous one.
So why, when the gorgeous man sleeping on the sand behind her had looked at her in just that particular, teasing way, and had offered her a smile that made her toes dig down in the sand, had she not shut him down as hard as she usually did? Why had she talked with him—even flirted a little—and felt a…tug? She wanted no part of tugs.
Tugs led to pulls, and pulls led to grasping, which inevitably led to sliding, pushing, rubbing and thrusting—ahhhh!
She threw the book down on the sand, disgusted and appalled that just thinking about it had her nipples poking through her tank top and her thighs flexing slightly in response to her unwanted desire.
This was totally out of character. She wanted to kill Ian for sending her on this vacation.
“It sucks that bad, huh?”
And sucking. Yes, tugs could lead to sucking, too. And licking…. Oh, damn, just stop already!
Sarah drew a deep breath. Logan had spoken to her again, but she was determined to just ignore him this time.
“I thought you were napping.”
So much for ignoring him.
Vacation was obviously playing havoc with her normal sense of independence and self-control.
“I couldn’t get back to sleep. I was too worried about what was happening with Rose and Russell.”
She wanted to laugh and had to choke it down.
“The usual. Piercing and poking and such.”
“Sounds painful.”
“Some people are into that.”
“Are you?” The question was baldly stated and openly curious. He was flirting with her. Well, she would put an end to it.
“No.”
She rose, struggling with the stupid beach chair once again. The stupid joints wouldn’t bend, corroded by salt or age or something, and she grimaced, putting as much muscle into it as possible. The chair gave way, the metal bending under the force of her efforts, the joints popping altogether.
“Ouch. You sure wrestled that into submission.”
Didn’t this guy ever quit? Still, something about his light, teasing tone and comment broke through her annoyance, and she shook her head, chuckling lightly.
“It really wasn’t a fair fight.”
“Understandable. The chair is clearly an unworthy opponent.”
Was he suggesting that he would be worthy? She stood, picking up the broken chair, looking down at Logan and feeling that stupid, aggravating tug yet again.
Okay, so he was eye candy. Lean and tall, he lay over the sand with the kind of reckless sexuality that probably made women turn to jelly with just a glance, though he didn’t seem to be posing. He wasn’t leering or posturing, he was just…lying there.
His lean legs stretched out before him, feet half-buried in the sand. The light scattering of dark hair over his legs continued upward, gathering into a light seam over his flat stomach that thickened a bit on his chest. He had strong shoulders and tight, well-shaped arms. Nice chin, good cheekbones. Firm lips. He was what she’d always thought of as “whiplike”—thin and sinewy, stronger than someone might assume at first glance. Probably fast.
There was a straight, white scar on his shoulder, about two inches long, and she almost asked him where it came from when she realized she’d been staring.
Damn. When caught, pretend not to notice, and then run as fast as you can.
He was looking up at her silently, waiting for her to finish her obvious inspection. He wasn’t the outdoorsy type, she guessed. His skin was not quite as light as hers, but it was clear he wasn’t used to being out in the sun.
“You’re going to burn if you stay out here much longer.”
With that clipped statement, she turned and walked toward the sidewalk.
She hadn’t made it halfway across the beach when she realized he’d caught up and was walking beside her. He stood just a little taller than she did, which meant he was at least six foot, maybe a little more, since she came in at five-ten in bare feet. When his arm brushed up against hers, she subtly stepped to the side as she kept walking, not wanting the contact.
“I’ll vouch for you that the chair broke when you sat in it and let the vendor know he should be lucky if you don’t sue him.”
“It didn’t break when I sat in it.”
“Just trying to save you an argument.”
She slid him a sidelong glance. “He won’t argue with me.”
A moment of silence as he digested that.
“Where are you from?”
“Brooklyn.” Regardless of where she lived now, or where she was born, she would always be from Brooklyn.
“Really? Your accent is certainly that of a New Yorker, but I wouldn’t have guessed Brooklyn.”
“I don’t have an accent.”
“Okay. Right. So what do you do in Brooklyn?”
He was not going to be easy to discourage. She looked at him through her shades, knowing he couldn’t see her eyes. She wasn’t really annoyed with him, she was irritated with her entire situation at the moment. She let that fuel her tone as she shut him down, once and for all.
“Listen, slick, thanks for the conversation but I’m not interested, okay? Have a nice nap.”
Turning to walk away, she didn’t look back as she left him standing quietly behind her.
LOGAN STOOD on the sand and felt put in his place, good and proper. Granted, he hadn’t dated in a while, and his social skills were probably a little rusty, but…ouch. And given the classic male sense of the hunt, wanting to go after things that presented a challenge, he was even more interested now.
He watched her hand the chair to the sidewalk vendor, who appeared to be apologizing profusely, his eyes level with her breasts the whole time he spoke. Sarah put one hand on a cocked hip and shot the other one to the guy’s chin, nudging his eyes up to meet hers. Whatever she said to him had those shocked eyes widening and he nodded quickly, handing her money back and not letting his gaze dip south again.
Logan smiled widely to no one in particular. It was clear Sarah was a woman who could take care of herself and who didn’t suffer fools lightly.
She’d shut him down, but he hadn’t mistaken her slight flirtation with him earlier, when he’d caught her reading. And even as she told him to pack sand, so to speak, her nipples budded endearingly against the soft material of the tank she wore.
Was she as interested as he was? He felt a curl of heat in his belly and knew he wanted to find out. He was male, she was gorgeous and he was on vacation, right?
Normal physical desire, effectively erased by the enormous stress he’d been under, suddenly thrummed through his bloodstream again when he pictured Sarah’s mouth. He could imagine kissing her, tasting her, and let himself imagine her wrapping those lips around him in the most intimate way….
He dropped back to his towel just in time to stretch out on his side lest anyone notice the somewhat untimely erection that sprang to life in response to his thoughts. He was reacting like a horny teenager, but he didn’t really mind, though true, it was inconvenient to be sitting here in public with a boner. It took him by surprise that he wanted her so distinctly. He took a deep breath to calm down and reminded himself why he was really here.
Finding out what had happened to Melanie, his partner for eight years on the Baltimore police force, that was his goal. Mel had had some problems, sure—especially right before she’d disappeared, she’d been on a disciplinary office suspension after having a few too many one night while on duty. She’d been dumped by her fiancé. And shortly after that, she’d had a violent encounter in an alley, as well. Both had left her nerves frayed, and her normally sound sense of judgment weakened by self-doubt. But she was a good cop, and a good partner. Logan believed that then, and he still believed it.
She’d thrown the suspension back in their faces, taking vacation time and heading to Virginia Beach. It was the last anyone had seen of her until some ugly photographs had surfaced during another investigation—explicit, pornographic footage in which Mel was clearly the star.
The department was concerned about its public image, but they also considered her trouble waiting to happen, and no one seemed to surprised she’d gone off the deep end and gotten involved with a bad crowd. A really bad crowd, by the looks of it. Though they’d made the appearance of an investigation, there was no concern about foul play, since she was obviously alive in the photos, and they hadn’t taken too seriously the fact that no one had heard from her in three months. That was six months ago, almost to the day, and though it seemed logical that she wouldn’t want to stay in contact with her friends and family, Logan’s gut told him there was more to it, and he couldn’t let it go.
He couldn’t drop it, though he’d been warned to do so. He knew Melanie, had spent hours every day with her, seen her put her life on the line just like every other cop did. She wouldn’t have just dropped everything to leave town and pick up a gig as a nude model—a polite description of what the pictures illustrated—even if she was going through a really rough patch. Something was very wrong, but he couldn’t seem to convince anyone else of that. He needed evidence.
So he’d made it his personal mission to find her again, or at least to find out what had happened to her. Doing so had taken over his life, interfered with his work, though he’d tried to keep his investigation low-key. He wasn’t in love with Mel, but she’d been a good cop and deserved better than she was getting.
She’d been a close friend; he’d met her family. He’d eaten dinner with her parents. And he knew firsthand what it was like to lose people who were close to you, what it was like to lose family. How could he face her family or tell them he’d given up?
The trail had led him here. But he had to be smart about it, because he’d been ordered to take a mandatory leave when he’d tried to make his case to the captain, to show him the new leads he’d found. When they’d refused to budge and turned their backs he’d lost it completely, blowing up in front of everyone in the captain’s office.
His job was on the line, but he wasn’t going to let it go. He had to make sure it looked like he was having a genuine vacation. He didn’t think anyone was watching him—he wasn’t that important—but he’d rather be safe than sorry.
And how better to do that than to engage in a vacation fling with a beautiful woman? As a cover, it had numerous advantages.
He pictured Sarah in his mind’s eye and smiled. He wouldn’t be working every minute, and maybe she would provide the perfect distraction. She wasn’t going to be easily convinced, but then, he’d always enjoyed the hunt.
SARAH WAS still mumbling to herself as she pushed her key into the lock on the door of her room and froze, finding it open. Someone was inside.
She pushed the door open a little more with her fingertip, silently, slowly, holding her breath until she had it open far enough that she could see inside, though part of the room was blocked from view.
She heard humming, and frowned. Someone sounded pretty happy in there. Definitely a female voice. She was relieved she didn’t have anything with her worth stealing. She’d left all of her computer equipment back in Norfolk. Ian’s orders, damn him. But she still didn’t like the idea of anyone going through her stuff.
A young woman moved into her line of vision. She was pulling some faded flowers out of the vase by the window and replacing them with fresh ones. Not exactly burglar behavior. Sarah pushed the door open and stepped inside, sighting a small service cart she hadn’t spotted from the crack in the door.
The maid.
She sighed heavily, feeling the tension drain away, irritation returning. She hadn’t spent much time in hotels or inns, and hadn’t even considered that there would be a maid in her room. She hadn’t even slept in the room yet, what was there to clean up?
Her suspicions suddenly seemed silly, even to her. It wasn’t like the small, quaint town of Cape Charles was a hotbed of crime—they left the door to the main house open all day, even when no one was around. Sarah couldn’t quite get used to that fact. Her suspicions were misplaced, the result of city living and the extreme boredom she was experiencing at the moment.
The young woman turned, smiling, and that smile faded suddenly. Sarah experienced a pinch of guilt as she realized she was standing there scowling at the girl for no good reason. She could feel her cheeks all bunched up. She tried to relax, though she couldn’t quite manage a smile. The maid wrung her hands, apparently feeling caught in the act even though she obviously hadn’t been doing anything wrong. Sarah felt like a jerk.
“I-I’m sorry, we try to be out of the rooms before—”
“It’s okay. You just startled me.” At the girl’s doubtful glance, she reiterated, “Really. Thanks for freshening the flowers.” Sarah didn’t know what else to say—was she supposed to tip her or something?
“You’re welcome. I’ll just get out of your way now.” The young woman rolled the small cart to the door and stopped. “Thanks for not being angry. I really need this job in the summer to save money for college. But we’re supposed to be out of the rooms when guests are around. It’s just that I forgot to change your flowers this morning, and figured I could stop back and—”
“It’s okay. What’s your name?”
The girl blanched, and Sarah realized she probably thought she was going to be reported.
“Ivy.”
Sarah smiled, trying to prove she wasn’t the wicked witch of the east. “Thanks, Ivy. And don’t worry about getting in here while I’m not around. After a few more days of this, I’ll need the company.”
“What do you mean?”
Sarah sighed, sitting on the bed, waving her hand around aimlessly. “I’m not used to…this. There’s nothing to do, no one around.”
“You don’t like the quiet? It’s why most people come here.”
“Not me. My boss is an ass—uh, idiot who thought I needed a break and he made the reservations for me. He thought I was wound a little too tightly and needed to relax.”
Ivy kept quiet, her fingers poised on the doorknob, and Sarah felt the need to clarify.
“I just like my work is all. I don’t get burnt out. He doesn’t seem to get that.”
“What do you do? Are you a model?”
Sarah blinked, surprised. She knew she wasn’t ugly, but she’d never thought of herself as model material.
“Oh, no way. I’m a cop.”
She almost smiled as Ivy’s eyes widened in surprise.
“A cop? Like, a real one? A detective like on CSI?”
“Not like that, but I work in a special unit with the Norfolk police department.”
