Smart and Sexy
“Then why warn me off?”
He looked at her, and she let out a long breath. “Because he wanted it all for himself,” she whispered, and felt her eyes fill.
Noah looked at her, muttered, “Fuck it,” and pulled her close.
“He won’t be that far behind us,” she said against his chest, voicing her fears out loud as adrenaline kicked into her system. “It won’t take him, or the others, that long to find another flight.”
“No,” he agreed grimly, holding her tight. “We’ll definitely have company. Look, it’s not too late. We can get Brody to come get us, and get Shayne’s brother involved. Get restraining orders, and—”
“And what?” she asked. “The fact is, Alan screwed those guys. Unscrupulous or not, he owes them that money.”
“Fine. The money is theirs. Let them find it.”
“Noah—”
“Look, you can’t really believe that even if you manage to find it and hand it over, this whole thing is just going to go away? That they’re going to just let you go?”
She stared at him, then squeezed her eyes shut and covered her face.
He gently lowered her hands, and when she found the courage to open her eyes, he was watching her with that deep, penetrating look that never failed to catch her breath.
“You’re not alone,” he said.
Was it wrong to want to melt into him at that? She was a strong woman who wanted to handle herself and her problems by herself, but…but she ached for him. Needed him in some fundamental way that felt right. Definitely not a concept she was used to. No, she wasn’t alone. She was with a man who’d, so far at least, never let her down.
Never would.
The marvel of that was enough to drop her to her knees, but he was standing so close she couldn’t have dropped anywhere.
“You’re not alone,” he repeated, looking tall, big, fierce. Gorgeous. “Say it.”
Her heart kicked it up another gear. And other parts of her body, too. She felt warm, too warm, and…sort of as if her skin was too tight. If he didn’t touch her, she thought, she was going to die. “Noah—”
“Say it, Bailey.”
“I’m not alone,” she whispered, putting a hand to her chest to keep her heart from bursting right out. And then there were the other reactions going on, all erogenous zone-based.
Adrenaline, she told herself. Just sheer adrenaline.
“Now believe it,” he demanded.
“I’m not alone,” she repeated again. “Because I have you.”
He nodded. He had his hands on the sink behind her, on either side of her hips. His arms were bent so that their faces were level, their mouths a mere breath apart.
“So now what?” she managed just a little hoarsely.
“Now…” Nudging her back against the counter, he invaded her space, and everything within her leapt to attention.
He kissed her jaw, sank his teeth into her earlobe, and let out a slow breath in her ear.
She shivered wildly. “We should probably go back to our seats.”
“Yeah. Have you ever made love on a plane?”
“No.” Already breathless, she wrapped her arms around his neck. She’d never made love on a plane. “I never really thought we could—Oh,” she murmured as he lifted her onto the narrow counter. Her entire body went on high, hopeful, quivering alert. “Here?”
In answer, he slid his hands to her thighs and pushed them open. Then he stepped between them, slipping his hands beneath her bottom to haul her up against him.
“Okay, here,” she said desperately, and almost before she got the words out, he’d shoved up her skirt, hooked his fingers in her panties, and tugged them down.
“The attendant—” she gasped, but then he’d opened his jeans and pushed inside her in one movement, and talking was beyond her. So was thinking.
He let out a low, raw sound of pure pleasure, and gripping her hips, nearly pulled all the way out.
A soft cry escaped her.
She couldn’t help it, she needed him back in, needed him hot and hard and throbbing inside her, right now, now, now.
“Shh,” he said, and covered her mouth with his to ensure it, and then, oh, God, and then he began to move. Suddenly all her fear and anxiety and nerves…everything…went away. Flew away. Her existence went from overwhelmingly complicated to amazingly, shockingly simple.
Just as it always did when she was with him.
How did he do that?
She didn’t know, just held on, bringing his mouth back to hers, letting him and everything he was work its magic.
The approach to Cabo was smooth enough, but Noah found himself white knuckling the armrests regardless. The location was the stuff of his nightmares, made all the worse for being the passenger, with absolutely no control.
So much for being over himself.
He needed to work on that.
The pilot banked the aircraft, and Noah caught a good upfront view of the landscape, specifically where he’d fallen out of the sky and hit the desert-like hills.
“Noah?” Bailey was looking at him with concern and regret lining those gorgeous baby blues. “You okay?”
“Perfect.” He felt a drop of sweat run down his temple. “Is it hot in here? I think it’s hot in here.”
Bailey didn’t say a word, just entwined her fingers with his and held on tight.
He found himself pathetically grateful, and for the first time since…well, ever, he wanted to set his head on someone’s shoulders and let go.
Bailey’s shoulders.
Wasn’t that a kick. He wanted to reach out to the woman who was causing him all this grief.
The pilot banked to the other side, just to give everyone a view of the ocean, and Noah’s stomach flipped over and revolted. He’d had that view as well, thank you very much, up close and personal. He didn’t need to see it again.
Jesus.
Landing anywhere close to this place was never going to be smooth enough for him.
“Excuse me, sir. Are you all right?” This from the female passenger on the other side of his aisle.
“Yes,” he said as lightly as he could through his clenched teeth. Bailey was holding his hand, stroking his arm, and still, still goddamnit, he was sweating. “I’m fine,” he said. “Fine.”
Bailey just kept touching him, and he tried his damnedest to suck it up because he was making her feel even worse about getting him down here, but he just needed a damn moment.
Or two.
When they finally touched down, he resisted the urge to kiss the ground. They made it to the terminal without him further humiliating himself and without any other incident, but Noah had no doubt that that streak of luck and fortune would not be lasting long.
Not when Bailey was around.
She was sharp as hell, she made him smile, hell, she made him want to walk around singing for crissakes, and she was gorgeous to boot.
No doubt, he had a major thing going for her, but there was no question—she had a knack for bringing the trouble.
He’d been momentarily sidetracked while helping her to join the ranks of the Mile High Club in the airplane bathroom, but now that he was thinking with his head, at least his big one, some of the euphoria from the great sex began to fade.
That they hadn’t been able to put their hands on the so-called hidden money was a bad sign.
Her brother showing up at LAX was a bad sign.
Bad signs all over the place, and it made him feel edgy. He was missing something, something big.
That much he knew.
What he didn’t know for certain was if Bailey was missing it, too, or if she just hadn’t shared it yet.
He hated that thought.
They got through the airport and car rental without seeing any action and were on the road in a beat-up old Blazer, old being the operative word, driving down the main drag, surrounded by the dry salty heat of Cabo, when his cell phone began vibrating. “Fisher,” he answered.
/> “You’re not skiing, you’re not boinking a ski bunny, and you’re not piloting Trouble-Walking to Cabo. Where the hell are you?” Shayne demanded.
“Do you really want to know?”
“You’re already in Cabo.”
“Bingo.”
“You flew commercial.”
This wasn’t a question, but a statement of disbelief. Noah glanced over at Bailey, who was watching him. She had her window down. The wind was playing havoc with her hair, which she was trying unsuccessfully to hold back. With her arms lifted, attempting to corral her hair into submission, her neck was exposed.
She had a little bite mark right beneath her ear.
His.
And just beneath the bite was a patch of red skin, from his two-day-old beard.
He’d marked her.
The thought should have disgusted him, but apparently he was just Neanderthal enough for the opposite reaction.
He wanted to pull the falling-off-its-own-axis Blazer over to the side of the road and haul her into his lap and start all over again. He wanted to put his hands back on her, and while he was doing that, he wanted to be buried deep inside her body, his mouth on hers, swallowing those sexy little panting cries she made as she came—
“Noah?” Shayne said.
“Yeah.” He tore his eyes off Bailey and her body. “I flew commercial.”
“Oh, Christ. You’re in deep.” This was also said with disbelief. “You’ve fallen and can’t get up.”
“Shayne—”
“Maddie said you were in love with her, but—”
“Maddie needs to mind her own damn business.”
“We are her business,” Shayne said.
Noah pinched the bridge of his nose. “Is there a point to this?”
“Sure.”
“Are you planning to get to it anytime soon?”
“Look, man. I know she means something to you. That’s new.”
Noah didn’t say anything to that. Yeah, she meant something to him.
Everything.
And yeah, it was new. Not to mention a little unsettling.
“You’re going to see if you can find the money and get those guys off her butt.”
“Yes.”
A sigh sounded through the phone. “Maddie’s going to give you a whole ration of shit.”
“No, she won’t. She thinks it’s romantic. Stupid, but romantic.”
He got another long-suffering sigh. “You’re making the rest of us look bad, dude.”
“Got to go.”
“Fine, but given the situation, you’re going to get yourself in more hot water, right?”
Yeah. Of that much, at least, he was quite certain.
“Give me your location. I’ll fly down there and provide the getaway.”
“You don’t have to—”
“No shit, Sherlock. Location.”
Noah knew it wasn’t just the getaway. Both he and Shayne knew that being here was a problem for him. And then there was the commercial airline factor. If he could get out of the return flight…“Meet us back at the Baja airport in a few hours.”
“Done.”
Still debating with himself over whether having Shayne come was a good idea or a bad one, Noah shut his phone.
Bailey directed him along the main drag. It was only early afternoon, but the heat beat down on them as they drove, the Pacific Ocean tumbling the shores on the right, the hotels and resorts lining the beach.
“It’s up ahead,” Bailey told him. “Turn right here.”
Instead, he drove right by the construction site.
“Noah?”
“Hang on.” He turned into the next property, which was, surprise surprise, yet another hotel. He drove along the far side of the parking lot until he found a vacant space, and pulled in.
They had a perfect view of Alan’s resort. The Fun and Sun’s lot was still unpaved, and opened to the hotel itself, which competed for attention with the two hotels it was sandwiched by.
The site was far messier and more disorganized than either Mammoth or Catalina, with equipment and huge piles of materials like brick and mortar lying everywhere.
But there was no doubt, the place had that same deserted feel as the others.
“I don’t see anything,” Bailey said. “No cars, no movement.”
“Which, as we’ve discovered the hard way, means nothing.”
Yeah, Noah was quite certain of two things as he sat there in the Blazer next to Bailey and surveyed the situation. One, the money hadn’t yet been found.
And two, they weren’t alone. “I’m assuming there’s a suite here where Alan stayed, just like the others.”
“Yes.” Bailey eyed the buildings, which had been designed and built in a slow-arching half circle around a natural bay, only feet from the waves.
The hotel itself was one building, with a series of bungalows, all undoubtedly pricey and absolutely showy, and all clearly designed for the Hollywood celebrity crowd.
“One of those bungalows was built as a prototype, to show off during tours while construction went on.” Her voice changed, almost indelibly so, but he knew her now, and he heard it.
A new tension.
“This way,” she said before he could figure out what exactly was wrong. She got out of the Blazer.
He followed, and ignoring the sun, the heat, the salty air, hooked a hand around her elbow and pulled her back around.
She avoided looking at him.
Ah, hell. “What is it?”
She merely pulled free and turned her back on him, and a full five-alarm raced up his spine.
She was omitting again, which didn’t bode well.
Chapter 22
“Bailey,” Noah said quite calmly to her back. “What’s wrong?”
What was wrong? Was he kidding? Bailey whirled around to face him. “You mean other than my life is in shreds, and that I have guys with guns after me, and oh, yes, let’s not forget the fact that my brother is very likely a lying, thief bastard to match my dead husband and father.”
“Yes,” he said without giving in to her. “Besides all that.” He