Capture

‘So find out. I want the names of everybody who can swim and anybody who was off-site this morning. And I want them yesterday. Got that?’

Darnley’s voice is low and fierce. He’s making calls while we change for lunch. While I’m in the en-suite he speaks fast. As I walk back out he’s already sliding the phone into his pocket.

So he does think we had a snooper. I swallow. What else goes on around here? Or is he still rattled about this morning? Maybe he’s not used to me making a stand. Something about that cut him deep.

Lunch is light and tasty, small portions of chowder with crusty bread and fresh butter from a local farm, followed by peaches. He says little, but watches me throughout. When I drain the last of my zingy local wine he gets up and holds out his hand.

‘Where are we going?’

‘Where do you think? We’ve things to discuss.’

I bite back a grin as he leads me into the bedroom and pulls me down beside him, his eyes dark with need. At a faint movement in his jeans I feel a surge of heat so explicit I wonder if he can sense it. The gleam in his eyes hints that maybe he does. He peels up my thin sweater and nuzzles deep in my breasts as he hauls me up to lie over him.

‘Have you thought about what I asked you to do here? Or did that stuff this morning change your mind?’

With an effort I drag myself back to the main reason I’m here.

We’re here for a few weeks on a kind of working vacation. He’s supervising the launch of his training facility here on the West Coast while he waits for the results of his international deals to get shareholder or government approvals. After that he’ll have an international workload and I’ll be at work here, doing some specialised teaching – literacy, mainly. But till then he’s all mine.

And while I’m here I’m not just arm candy. What he was trying to tell me this morning I already knew – that the recruits are handpicked for special security ops.

The idea is that young people, some troubled, all unusual, are referred here from the military, secret services, special schools, even remand centres for short, intensive courses in security work. It means they get a boost to their confidence and maybe a new start. The work is risky but he’s got a lot of agencies on board –including the Principal at my specialist academy in Boston.

And with his special brand of Darnley magic he’s even arranged for me to come out here and help. But the final decision rests with me. I’ve still not said I’ll do it for certain.

I grin. ‘The work sounds great, just what I like. Plus I’ll be living here, with you. Seriously tempting. But –’

He runs his hand over my flank, making me shiver as his fingers search out the swelling mound of my rump, exposed and quivering where I straddle his hips.

‘But?’

I narrow my eyes. ‘It might have been easier without being turned into a public porno.’ He fondles me from behind, his fingers exploring and insistent. I shudder as I lean back into his touch and at the same time try to balance.

‘So?’ He’s grinning, enjoying my fight to focus while he’s tormenting me from the rear. ‘You’ve still not answered the question.’

‘If I’m joining the team?’ I say sweetly. ‘I’ll let you know when I’ve looked round.’

In fact I’d give my right arm to be here and his sardonic grin warns me he’s guessed. But something in his look makes me shiver – and even more determined to hold out.

‘Be my guest,’ he says softly. ‘Better start looking now.’

My inspection starts with his broad chest, his skin salty on my tongue as I lick eagerly around his tight little nipples and pretend to pin him down by leaning hard on his biceps, well aware that at the least flex of them he’d overpower me utterly. And the longer we stay and play, the longer before I have to face the curious stares of my new students, who’ll just love having a skinny-dipping teacher who frolics in boats …

Truth to tell, working this close to my fiancé may be tricky. His temper’s uncertain, to say the least. And if he’s as hard to please at work as he is in bed I’ll have my work cut out.

Now his dark look sends tremors through me as I make my way slowly down the hills and valleys of his chest-scape. I can sense his impatience as I swiftly unfasten his jeans and free him for inspection.

His breathing speeds up as I close in on his eager, jutting manhood, now only inches from my lips. I can feel the warmth from his thighs, where his business centre lurks in its dark mat of springy hair, eager for attention, even more eager when I start to give it some.

Down here he’s newly clean and vividly rampant. The light, elusive scent of his shower gel mingles with the dark Darnley-aroma of his crotch. It works havoc on my heightened senses. For some reason the light, teasing touches of my lips and my tongue inflame him even faster than usual. With a low growl he soon takes control and kneels up over me, his thighs like carved columns at either side of my face.

‘Take it deep. All the way.’

Whoa. Where did this come from? I do it quickly, my mind racing. He had a shock last night – right after the scrawled graffiti greeted our arrival. And then there was that business in the boat … Is this some kind of delayed reaction?

I take him deep, eager to please, gulping the last couple of inches to tease him with my clutching throat, but this angle is awkward. His remote, faintly amused gaze warns me my struggle turns him on, so I persist, biting back my protest, making sure he can see me strain.

Whatever he wants. I gasp air when I can as he starts to slide in and out of my eager mouth and I yawn my throat open to receive him, to please him …

Is this helping? Will it soothe him? Is this what keeps him sane? Or is it simply taking control that grants him peace? And why is he so casual about that face I saw? I’m still shaky over it. Since when did seaweed wear goggles?

What is it he’s not telling me?

As he eases me away from his cock and throws himself back down on the covers, it hits me all at once that maybe I’m missing a trick here. He’s mad as hell.

This is a family with secrets. And out here Darnley’s got secrets too.

And maybe one of them is he’s scared for me.

He leans up and kisses me on the mouth, his lips light but his gaze hot. ‘Sunny side up? Or sunny side down?’

He’s grinning now, calm and relaxed, and all at once it’s me who’s tense. I raise myself up and gaze down at him. ‘Are you OK about these – hitches? The paint, that face? I know you said to expect weird things – but how weird were they? Tell me.’

He frowns. ‘Why?’

I swallow. ‘It’s just – you should tell me when you worry about things.’

He tips me off and rolls over on top of me, his erection jutting into my belly, hot and hard, still close. I feel a faint throb in response as he moves gently against me, pressing me cruelly close to my peak.

‘I’d sooner not. Not when what I worry about is you.’

He fastens on my mouth for a long, hot kiss and then shifts into position with our mouths still fused together. When he releases my lips he rests on his hands and slides right up inside, each thrust of his loins a jolt of possession, a statement of love. My mind empties of everything but his power and his heat as he rams into me, filling me up, over and over, the dark gleam in his eyes pinning me down as effectively as his muscled forearms, his tight grip and his fierce hunger.

This time we come almost at the same moment, me tipping over the edge just seconds before he does. Maybe my spasms fire his climax – maybe it’s simply the ecstatic moan of pleasure that escapes me as he jolts me into my final bliss. Our embrace fuses us together for long seconds.

We finally stretch out to relax, then I twine around him and nestle in the crook of his arm. I’ll keep my questions for later. This close, I sense he’s still keeping something back.

The glint in his eyes is a warning. Something’s not going to plan. And I’ve an uneasy feeling that it’s somehow linked to me.

* * *

At last we set off for the complex. We cross the highway and drive towards the foothills in Darnley’s flashy new convertible. With the wind in our hair and an open road it makes a welcome change from the cushioned privacy of his limo. Without his driver we feel reckless, like kids.

On the way he fills me in on some of the detail about his new venture, his hand straying constantly from the steering wheel to stroke my thigh.

I try to focus as he does this, but it’s an effort.

‘There’s renovation work still going on. The new intake’s on short, intensive courses, just to give them a taster, a feel for the conditions some of their future employers may expect.’