Becoming Rain (18 page)

Chapter 28

■ ■ ■

CLARA

I've never seen Warner's brow quite so furrowed. “Anything closer than that and we risk being spotted.”

“I'll be fine.”

“They likely wouldn't do anything until you're in deeper waters. It'll be twenty minutes to reach you, if we gun it.”

I laugh it off to alleviate my handler's worries, even as mine linger. “Relax. If so much as a hair on the back of my neck spikes, I'll fake a stomach bug and grab one of the Jet Skis. It's that simple.” Luke's too genuine to be able to hide his suspicions of me, I remind myself. He has no clue.

But what about Aref?

Luke said that the billionaire businessman, who
must
be a part of this ring, specifically asked that he bring me. Has Aref discovered who I really am? He'd have to have a ton of money and powerful connections to crack through the agency's undercover operations files. But, based on what I saw of him, if anyone could pull it off, it would be Aref.

“Relax, Warner. This is a great opportunity to get intel. Drinking, intimate setting. Seriously, I'll be okay.” After a pause, I add, “Sinclair seems to think so.” I've already had a call from the big boss telling me as much.

Warner folds his arms over his chest, his jaw tense. “He called you again?”

“Like you said, he wants to win this case.”

Warner answers with a head shake, clearly unimpressed. His eyes drift down to the plunging neckline of my red silk dress. Luke warned me beforehand that the invitation calls for formal attire; that Elmira likes to go all out when she throws these “little gatherings.” I feel ridiculous, leaving the condo dressed like this mid-afternoon. “Did you get your own cabin, at least?”

I wonder if Warner's like this with all his female undercovers. My gut is beginning to tell me that he isn't. That the extra attention, the way he drops everything for me—including his girlfriend's sister's wedding—may have less to do with his devotion to the job and more about an interest in me. It's too bad I just don't feel the same way about him. Maybe I would, if I weren't on this case. Maybe when I'm done with it, things will change.

“I don't know, big brother. I'll figure it out. That's the least of my worries.” A conflicting storm of trepidation and excitement brews inside me. Luke's words from the other night rang true—I know he meant what he said about not pushing me—but will it be the same when I'm lying next to him in a bed?

And how exactly will
I
feel?

I stoop down to scratch Stanley's ears. “You be good for Uncle Jack, you hear?” Stanley responds with a yelp and a few licks of my hand. “See? He's okay with me going. Be like Stanley.”

“You want me to lick you?”

I smack his stomach. “And if I don't come back with the yacht, Stanley's all yours.”

Warner glowers at me.

■ ■ ■

“We're so happy you could join us, Rain.” Elmira somehow manages to make her London accent sound seductive. She's in another long, flowing dress, this one as black as her hair. A plunging neckline and smattering of diamonds hanging from a gold chain diminish the fact that she has next to no curves.

She certainly has the princess genes in her.

“Thank you for inviting us,” I offer as a man in an all-white suit swoops in to collect my overnight bag wordlessly.

“Cabin Five, please, Gabriel,” Elmira directs him with a graceful wave of her delicately toned arm. “And our other guest will be in Cabin Six, right across the hall.”

I glance back to watch Gabriel slip Luke's bag from his hand, admiring the tailored silver-gray suit he arrived in at my condo.

“Luke said you may be more comfortable with your own room,” Elmira explains, a curious flicker in her obsidian eyes.

“If it's not putting anyone out.”

“We have just enough room.” She pauses. “You look surprised about these arrangements.”

The truth is, I'm floored. This guy is given the perfect excuse to get into bed with me for a night, use the old “Oops. Sorry, I was asleep,” cop-a-feel move, and he's not using it? In fact, I'm sure he's setting himself up for a lot of inappropriate questions and obnoxious comments, if these men are an eighth of what the guys I work with are like.

“Come.” She turns up the stairs to the second deck, giving me the view of her bare, slender back. It's way too cold to be dressed like that. “We'll be setting off shortly. Let me introduce you to everyone.”

I follow her, pausing to glance back once. To find Luke's eyes on me.

■ ■ ■

“She couldn't decide between the Tuscan villa or a cottage in Provence, so I just bought her both,” the blond drones, taking an extra-­long sip of her Champagne, perched on the edge of the couch.

“Your mom's lucky to have such a generous daughter,” the redhead next to her says, eyeing her freshly painted blood-red lipstick in her compact.

Half an hour sitting on this couch and all I've heard about is how much money these people have and how much they spend, how frivolously. Maybe that's why I've somehow managed to pour three glasses of Champagne down my throat, despite being mindful. In fact, I'm in need of a refill. It's going to be a long night, and I should be more careful.

At least I've had no indication—no odd looks, no whispers, no anything—to suggest I should be worried about a late-night dive with an anchor tied to me. Yet.

I haven't learned one valuable piece of information, relegated to the wives' circle while the men congregate on the upper deck. Is this how it always is with these guys? Wives dependent on their husbands for their money, sipping on Cristal while the men make their covert deals. At least, I assume that's what they're doing up there. Successful criminals are successful because they're
always
looking for the next opportunity. If they'd put that kind of dedication toward a legitimate life, most would still do quite well.

I want to slap each and every one of these women's faces. Even Elmira sits with them, quiet but smiling, her attention seemingly riveted to the vapid circle of chatter.

“Excuse me.” I wave my empty glass in the air as I make my way over to the server. There are several staff onboard, graceful ghosts who appear with food and drink at the right moment before disappearing into the background once again.

I can't go back to that pit of shallow minds, but simply storming in on Luke may not be the smoothest option. So I instead wander over to the rail and admire the coastline in twilight, my last chance before everything is shrouded in darkness. Astoria's city lights line the water's edge in the distance, and beyond them is the jagged border of the mountains.

A gentle rocking and cool breeze makes me pull my jacket tight to my body. The entire afternoon traveling up the Columbia River from Aref and Elmira's palatial North Portland home has been . . . enchanting. Hours of nothing but scenic views—valleys and forestry and inlets—has made me struggle at times to remember why I'm here to begin with. And that there is a cover team following along the coastline in a car, worried about getting to me before my body is tossed overboard.

Even with my heightened senses, the exponential increase in danger, I'll miss this when I'm back in Washington, D.C., knocking on cheap motel doors again.

“Have you ever driven along it?” Elmira sidles up to me, her gaze settling on the Astoria–Megler Bridge ahead, a four-mile-long architectural masterpiece highlighted by the purple sky. A full drink in her hand, a slight swagger in her movements. She's drunk. I may be slightly tipsy too, but I can handle myself better than most.

“Not yet.”

“You should have Luke take you. Great views. There are plenty of beautiful pictures to take from up there.” She pauses. “You're not from around here, are you?”

“No.” I give her the thirty-second cover story spiel. It comes so naturally to me that I almost believe it myself now.

“I've never been to Washington, D.C. I hear it's nice.”

“It's nothing like this.”

“Will you be staying long, then?”

“Not sure.”
Depends how secretive your husband and Luke are.

She nods slowly. “I'm heading back to London in July.”

“With Aref?”

She sighs. “Depends on what kind of business he stirs up here. His family's company is well run and he gets bored easily. He's been
very
bored as of late.”

Bored. A great excuse for risking felony charges.
Idiot.
I should never be surprised and yet I always am.

“You've thrown a nice party,” I offer genuinely.

“That's what I do. Throw parties,” she murmurs dryly, sipping from her glass.

A loud, unattractive howl sounds behind us and we both glance at the three overdone women laughing on the couch.

“They certainly like everyone to know how much money they have, don't they?” Elmira muses, a derisive smirk touching her lips.

“I've noticed.”

“People who grow up with nothing and suddenly have everything don't know how to behave around it. They end up looking like cheap reproductions and sounding like tacky fools. I wish they were forced into charm school before being handed any checks.”

Interesting thing to say about the guests at her party. “So they're really not your friends?”

“I tolerate them. They're certainly not like me. Or you.”

I fight the urge to laugh, and give myself a pat on the back for fooling even the born-and-bred wealthy likes of Elmira.

She glances up to the third deck, to the male-dominated party. “Aref does business with these people, so I play nice and don't let them see me cringe at every asinine comment that comes out of their mouths.”

I smile. “I have a few relationships like that.” That basically sums up my life, listening to and laughing at what scumbags have to say while I set them up for a takedown. Luke is the first target that doesn't make me cringe. That I actually look forward to seeing.

With a sly grin, she turns her back to the water to face the group, dropping her voice. “The blond in the blue dress? The one chattering on about buying houses for her mom? That's Laurel. She was an escort. That's how she met Philip. He paid her to suck his cock and I guess it was true love.”

I choke on a mouthful of Champagne, hearing such a crass word come from such seemingly refined lips. “Really . . .”

A wicked giggle escapes her. “And Celia? The redhead? She was the nanny, hired by the wife. Broke the marriage up when the baby was just five months old. Her real name is Peggy-Sue but she changed it about a year ago. Said Celia sounds more distinguished.”

I meet her impish grin with one of my own. “I like this game. What else you got?” This may be easier than I thought.

Her face twists. “The big bald man standing on the other side of Luke? He spends one night a week at the RiverPlace hotel with his boyfriend. His wife, Carla—the curvy one in the black lace dress—has no clue, but that could be because she's too busy fucking the seventeen-year-old pool boy, so . . .”

“So cliché,” I joke, an edge of unease sliding its way in. This is the kind of stuff surveillance teams pick up. “You seem to know an awful lot about everyone.”

“Aref makes it his job to know who he's going into business with.”

And the people around them, obviously. I feel her dark eyes on me as I take a calm sip, training my focus on Luke while my senses go into overdrive. What exactly is Elmira telling me right now? Has Aref been looking into me? What could he possibly find out? Not much. I've stayed in role. But I think back to that comment earlier, about taking photos on the bridge . . . It could have been coincidence, or it could be a hint that they know about my classes.

That they've been following me.

Suddenly I'm gauging the depth of the water and distance to the shore, wondering if I could actually make it down to the Jet Skis in time, wishing I were a stronger swimmer. But I can't think like that. I have to assume nothing. Playing the curious new girlfriend is the only direction I can take. “Any juicy info on Luke that I should know about?”

The breeze carries her low, throaty chuckle as we both turn back to face the dark waters. “Well, you definitely don't have to worry about where his preferences lay.”

“That's good. What else?”

She sips her drink slowly, her words deliberate. “He's too trusting, wouldn't you say?”

I struggle to keep my face stoic, even as I feel the blood drain from it. “I don't know about that. I do know that he really likes your husband.”

“Aref can charm anyone he needs to in order to get what he wants. He is, first and foremost, a businessman. There's a reason he and his family are so wealthy.” She pauses. “Luke likes Aref because Aref wants to be liked.”

I frown at her warning tone. Or maybe I'm just paranoid. “Are you saying he shouldn't trust Aref?”

Dark eyes flicker to me. “I'm saying that Luke may be getting in over his head, and that is not a good place to be with these people.”

A sinking feeling hits the pit of my stomach. Is Luke in danger? “Why are you—”

I gasp as strong arms suddenly wrap around my body.

Chapter 29

■ ■ ■

LUKE

Two hours of listening to these guys talk world politics and business is about all I can take. Partly because I'm not interested, but mostly because I have no fucking clue what these guys are talking about. Islamic rule? A Scottish referendum? North Korean missile launches?

I guess I should add CNN to my lineup of reality TV and sports. Too bad I hate watching the news. I can't talk about business with Aref around these guys. So when I saw Rain leaning against the rail, her sexy, sleek curves calling to me, I had my excuse to detach.

“You two enjoy yourselves. Take a tour, if you'd like. There will be another course of appetizers circulating soon,” Elmira says, shooting a hard look at Rain before drifting away.

Rain's body is rigid beneath my fingers. “What was that about?”

“I just don't know how to read her.” With a deep sigh, she shakes her head. “It was nothing. How's your night?”

Standing behind Rain, holding her like this, gives me easy access to her slender neck. I dip my nose into it, inhaling the scent of her—rose petals—my eyes stealing a glance at the swell of her breasts.

Remembering the night she gave me a millisecond's worth glance at them at the window last week. It seems she's more comfortable getting undressed for me from thirty feet and two glass panels away. If that's what she needs to do for now, I'll grin and bear it. From what I've already seen, it will be well worth the wait.

“Much better now.”

Her body finally relaxes into mine as my arms tighten around her waist, her ass pressing into my hips, about the exact time that my dick begins to harden.
Perfect.
Well, at least she knows she has my full attention.

When I asked Aref for two cabins, he laughed at me. Part of me wanted to take advantage of this situation, even if just to lie next to her. But, after last Saturday, I know that the likelihood of me controlling myself is near zero, so I figured I'd heed Jesse's advice. “Follow her lead.” She has an out. If she decides she wants to climb into my bed, it'll be 100 percent her choice.

And I'm 1,000 percent ready.

Sure enough, another waiter circulates with a tray of shrimp in minutes.

Rain groans. “I think I'm going to explode if I keep eating.” Her hand moves to her lower belly. Without hesitation, I cover it with mine, the width expanse of my fingers splaying over hers, feeling the seam of her panties through her dress with the tip of my pinky. She tenses for just a moment but, after taking a deep breath, she falls farther into me.

“How are the wives?”

She rolls her head until her cheek leans against my chest, and in a low voice, she admits, “Arrogant and boring. Listening to them makes me want to gouge my eyes out with a spoon.”

“So . . . good?” I chuckle.

She flashes a grimace at me. “Sorry. They're just not my type. You know, the kind you can never fully trust.”

I smile. I want her to enjoy this night, but I'm happy she's not
that
type. More and more, these women aren't my type either. My type is quickly becoming Rain, and only Rain.

I can't keep my mouth from grazing that soft curve at the base of her neck.

She stiffens momentarily before her head falls back, giving me easier access. “You were up there for a while. Anything interesting?”

“No. They were talking politics, mainly. I could have used that spoon on my own eyes after you did, actually.” I let my words drag over her silky skin with my lips. “Hopefully I can get Aref by himself later.”

Her chest heaves with a quick breath and my arm automatically tightens, fighting the urge to curl my hand up and around one of those perfect tits. “You have business to talk about tonight?”

“Yeah, but only a bit, I promise.”

“That's okay, I understand.” She turns into me just slightly. “How well do you know him, anyway? You said you just met?”

“Aref wants a partnership with us and I need to test the waters to find out exactly what his terms are.” I'm probably saying more than I should but, I swear, her body is yanking the words out of me.

“Do whatever you have to do. We're here all night.” There's a pause, and then, “What kind of partnership? With the garage?” Her hips grind back into me and my mind goes blank, momentarily.

“Uh . . . no. But it has something to do with cars.”

Her free hand rises to slide over my cheek, her trim nails scraping against my light stubble. “We should spend some time with Aref and Elmira tonight. Get to know them better.”

“Sure. We can do that.”
Or we can spend the rest of the night in your cabin; to hell with Aref and Elmira, and Rust, too.

Taking her hand in mine, I lead her around the corner, out of prime view. I spin her around in my arms and press her up against the railing, my hand behind her to soften the impact of the metal bar against her back.

The burn in her eyes, the sharp peaks at the front of her dress where her nipples have pebbled, the way her hand settles on my chest, sliding over the contours, makes me think she feels the same way that I do.

But I wait. Something I don't ever remember doing. I wait for her to make the first move. I begin to think it's not going to happen, and then I see the decision flicker across her face. She nods at me, like she can read my mind. That's all I need before my hand's weaving through her long hair at the base of her neck and I'm crashing into her mouth, tasting the sweet Champagne she just finished on her tongue.

If this were any other girl that I've ever been with, we'd be halfway down the stairs to my cabin by now. As it is, I don't know how I'm going to actually get any sleep with her across the way. “Stay with me tonight?” slips out before I can help myself. I quickly follow it up with, “Just to sleep, that's all. I promise.”

She doesn't answer, closing her mouth over mine again, her palms sliding flush up the length of my stomach and chest, one chilly tip finding its way between the buttons of my shirt to slip under, grazing my skin.

I can't help myself anymore, my hand groping her ass through the smooth silk, ready to lift her onto the ledge and press myself in between her thighs.

A horn blasts nearby.

“Coast Guard!” someone hollers in the background. It takes Rain's palms pushing against my chest to catch my attention.

“Hey.” She giggles, her cheeks red.

I lost control with her again. It's too easy. “I'm so sorry.”

“It's okay.” Her nervous fumbles with that dragonfly necklace make me wonder if it really is okay, but then she gives me a quick pat on the chest and a kiss on the lips before slinking away and rounding the corner.

At some point while we were distracted, a few guests decided it would be a good idea to break out the coke. Rain and I watch as they scramble to snort every last line already laid out on the table before the Coast Guard boards.

Aref marches over to us, his strides much quicker than normal. “If you have anything that you don't want them to find, I suggest you deal with it quickly. We won't be allowed in our rooms while they search.”

“Does this happen a lot?” I ask.

“It's happened once or twice to me since I bought this yacht,” he admits. “What can I say? It attracts a lot of attention.”

“But how can they just do that? Don't they need a warrant or something?” Luke asks.

“Not on a boat. They have full jurisdiction on U.S.-sanctioned open waters,” Rain says and then presses her lips together.

“She's right. They can jump onboard and tear this place apart.” He winks at Rain. “But, please, continue enjoying yourself. We'll be rid of them soon.” As he's turning, I catch the easygoing smile slide off his face, replaced with a frown.

He marches away, shifting over to another couple, I assume to warn them of the same. “I hope this night doesn't end up in handcuffs,” I mutter quietly, as the lit-up Coast Guard boat—dwarfed by the size of Aref's yacht but looking threatening all the same—speeds toward us.

“Why would it? Do you have something to hide?” Rain asks.

I smile down at her, roping my arms around her waist. “Nope. Not a thing.”