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Authors: Kay Hooper

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BOOK: Captain's Paradise
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He was still frowning a little, but understanding had dawned. “What if it doesn’t work, Robin?”

She managed a faint smile. “Then you’re the rescue team.”

Michael hesitated, but he had a good idea of what she had in mind and there was a chance it would work. If he had been partnered with a female agent on an assignment, he wouldn’t have hesitated at all; as it was, he was worried about Robin and uncertain of her abilities. “Are you sure you’ve done something like this before?” he asked finally.

“Yes. And for the same reason. To get information.”

“Wait here,” he said, and headed next door to the pawnshop.

Robin closed her eyes briefly and commanded herself to stop shaking. Still, it took a ridiculous amount of time to remove her shoelaces because
her hands trembled so. She arranged her long hair in two ponytails and used the laces to tie them just below her ears. Then she bent and rubbed her hands in the dirt that had collected against the building; some of the dirt was also transferred to her face.

Michael reappeared suddenly beside her. “I did my best,” he told her, handing over a long silver chain and a bundle of dark cloth.

She put the necklace on, satisfied with the big silver crucifix that showed clearly against her black windbreaker. Then she stepped into the dark pants and pulled them up over her shorts; they were too long and the waist was far too loose, but the baggy appearance was what she’d wanted.

“How do I look?” she asked, gazing up at him.

Michael had an odd expression on his face, and his voice had rough edges. “Like the littlest hobo. Robin—”

“Good,” she said, cutting him off. “I’ll try to be as quick as I can.” She hoped desperately that he couldn’t see her fear.

He bent his head suddenly and kissed her, briefly but firmly. “Be careful,” he urged.

Robin found herself at the door without being aware of moving, thinking vaguely that it wasn’t at all fair of him to have done that just when she needed all her wits about her. Then she took a deep breath and went into the tavern.

Michael waited tensely by the window, never taking his eyes off the scene inside. He could feel as well as see all conversation and activity cease when she walked in, and he silently approved the timid way she glanced around. With the baggy clothing and hairstyle she looked about twelve years old, and it was clear that appearance made the men doubtful enough to do nothing while she walked slowly to the end of the bar where Jack sat.

Tensing even more now, Michael almost held his breath as the big man looked at Robin. She must have said something, for Jack nodded and she climbed up on the stool beside him, sitting with hunched shoulders and a hesitant tilt to her head. Immediately the crowd of men seemed to
lose interest, and returned to their former activities.

Michael found himself smiling in admiration. By God, she’d done it! Now if she only could get the information and get out of there in one piece.

Robin had never been so terrified in her life. It hadn’t even been this bad when she had woken up to find herself in the possession of white slavers. And she knew why, of course. Because this time someone was counting on her to get the job done. This time someone else expected her to be strong.

“Who sent you to me?” Jack asked her in a rumbling voice.

She fixed her gaze on the big gold crucifix he was wearing, and didn’t have to try to make her voice timid and shaky. “I think he said his name was Dane. He said you might be able to tell me where I could find the
Dragon Lady
.”

“Whatcha want with that tub, kid?”

Inventing as she went along, Robin answered
softly. “Mr. Sutton offered me a job a while back. I need to talk to him.”

Jack was chewing on the stub of a cigar, his eyes narrowed against the rising curl of smoke as he stared at her. With a short laugh he said, “You don’t want no job that bastard offers you, girl. Do yourself a favor and forget the idea.”

With a facility that had been hers since childhood, Robin allowed tears to form in her eyes, and let her voice quaver. “I have to find that boat. Eddie works on that boat, and I have to find him.”

“You don’t look old enough to have an Eddie,” Jack said, but in the world-weary tone that expected budding adolescents to have dangerous boyfriends. “In trouble, eh?”

Robin let her eyes skitter away from his. “I have to find Eddie,” she repeated dolefully.

Jack sighed and shifted the cigar to the other side of his mouth. “Girl, Sutton’s carrying valuable cargo, and he ain’t going to want no crying girlfriend pestering one of his men.”

“I won’t pester him,” she said, allowing hope
to creep into her voice. “I’ll just stand by and wait till Eddie’s shift ends. Unless … they’re at sea?”

Jack grunted in brief amusement. “None of us are at sea with the waters boiling like they’re from hell,” he muttered.

Robin didn’t react to his awareness of the law enforcement activity all around the coast but merely looked at him with a spaniel-like expression. “Please tell me where the boat is,” she begged.

Almost angrily he said, “It’s no skin off my nose if you want to get your silly ass shot off. Sutton usually anchors in a cove off one of the Ten Thousand Islands. They call that island the Maze, and for good reason.”

“Thank you,” Robin said breathily, sliding off the stool.

“Here.” He reached out suddenly and stuffed something into one of the pockets of her windbreaker. “Hop a bus back to Iowa, or wherever you’re from. Now, get outta here.”

She nodded and moved quickly back to the
door, relieved to find no further attention paid her by the men in the tavern. Immediately outside the door Michael took her hand and drew her into the shadows.

“Anything?” he asked.

His hand felt very warm, and Robin knew her own was ice cold. “Yes,” she murmured, trying to get the shake out of her voice. “An island in the Ten Thousand group. It’s called the Maze. He said Sutton usually anchors in a cove there.”

“I know where it is. Good work,” Michael said sincerely, then asked, “What’s that?”

Robin was staring in astonishment at two hundred-dollar bills she had pulled from her pocket. “He—he gave me this. Told me to get a bus back to wherever I was from.”

Michael grinned a little. “What line did you give him?”

“I said I was looking for my boyfriend, that he worked on Sutton’s yacht. He, that is, Jack assumed I was pregnant.”

Still holding her hand, Michael began moving away from the tavern. “You must have touched
his soft spot if he gave you two bills,” he said philosophically.

“I can’t keep the money!” she protested.

“You’ll have to. It wouldn’t be in character to give it back. Besides, do you really want to go back in there?”

“No. But it isn’t right.”

Patiently Michael said, “Then we’ll stop at a church somewhere and you can put it in the collection box.”

Robin sighed but walked beside him without further protest. She knew she was stupid to feel guilty about accepting money from a man like Jack under false pretenses; it was probably ill-gotten gains anyway. Still, he’d been kind to her in a rough way, and she couldn’t help but feel bad about it.

“How did you guess they wouldn’t bother you in there?” Michael asked curiously as they walked.

“It made sense.” He seemed to have forgotten he was still holding her hand, and Robin wondered why she didn’t pull it away. “A girl dressed
like I am, probably pretty young and down on her luck—but wearing a religious medal she could have pawned. A cop told me once that some of the roughest men still have a tendency to respect ‘good’ girls. I took the chance.”

“You sure did.” He squeezed her hand briefly. “And you pulled it off. You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that.”

Still fooling them all!
Robin’s bitterness grew when she realized that the aftermath of fear had left her feeling weak and shaky—as always. Oh, damn, why couldn’t she conquer her fear? Why couldn’t she find some hint of courage inside herself?

“Thanks,” she said tautly, and immediately changed the subject because she felt like a fraud. “Are we going back to the boat?”

“After we stop for supplies, I think we’d better. And we should head for that island right away. The crackdown on boats in these waters won’t last longer than a couple more days, I’d guess. Once the heat’s off, Sutton could decide to bolt.”

For the first time, Robin wondered what he planned to do when they found the yacht. If Sutton was indeed an old enemy, then Lisa’s position was decidedly precarious. From what Robin had heard, Sutton was just as likely to enter into a gun battle with a Coast Guard vessel as he was to surrender to them.

In a small voice she said, “We can’t just tip off the Coast Guard about that yacht, can we?”

After a moment Michael said, “I don’t know, but it’s doubtful. One hint of trouble, and Sutton’s likely to throw the girls overboard. And they won’t be in any condition to survive that.”

“Then how can we help them? How can we get them and Lisa off the boat safely?”

“I don’t know, Robin.” Michael walked on steadily, not looking at her. “I just don’t know.”

It wasn’t over, Robin realized, going cold inside again. The worst wasn’t over. She’d had some vague idea of alerting the proper officials and standing by while the girls and Michael’s sister were safely rescued. But she realized now
that it wouldn’t be so easy, or so simple. Finding the yacht wouldn’t be enough.

She forced her voice to remain steady. “We’ll need some kind of backup once we find the yacht.”

As they turned in the direction of the marina, Michael stopped suddenly and faced her. They stood before a tavern slightly more upscale than the one Robin had gone into, and the hellish glow of a red neon sign in the window lit Michael’s face and made his grim expression all too obvious.

“No, Robin.”

“There must be someone you can trust!”

“That isn’t the point.”

“Yes, it is,” Robin insisted, and felt a flash of bitterness spurred as much by her own self-doubts as anything else. “But it has to be you, right? Just you alone, and never mind that you’re way the hell outnumbered.”

“Robin—”

The ice was cracking, and fear was the reason. Fear for him. Nothing mattered except this terrible
hunger for him, clawing at her until she was raw and helpless. He’d get himself killed, and every instinct she could lay claim to surged in protest. The feelings tangled inside her in wild confusion.

She jerked her hand away and forced a hard laugh. “I hate heroes, I really do. They make the rest of us feel so damned inadequate!” Then, horrified to have said that aloud for the first time, she shoved her hands into the pockets of her windbreaker and hurried past him. She knew he was behind her, but he didn’t speak and didn’t attempt to catch up. Robin was blessed with a good sense of direction, and even with her thoughts and emotions in turmoil was able to find the marina easily.

She found herself alone once she reached the boat, and realized only then that Michael must have stopped somewhere to get those supplies he mentioned. Miserable, she went below and took a shower in the tiny bathroom, making use of the first opportunity she’d had to wash away the salt of her enforced swim of last night. She found
another pair of cutoff jeans and a short-sleeved green blouse, then went up on deck to allow her hair to dry in the night breeze.

The marina was well lit, and she saw Michael easily when he returned almost an hour later carrying two boxes of groceries and supplies. He didn’t look at her as he jumped aboard and took the stuff below, and Robin felt even more miserable.

Typical Robin, shooting her mouth off, she thought. She’d had no right to say that. He was worried to death about his sister—and he was an agent, for God’s sake; of
course
he was courageous enough to deal with Sutton alone. He would too; she knew he would. Heroes, sure. And
she
had to be attracted to them.

Especially attracted to Michael Siran.

Robin groaned inwardly and rested her forehead on her upraised knees. Oh, Lord, she was doing it again! Like ore to a magnet, she couldn’t help but give in to the attraction of strong men … only to find herself resenting them, because
she, a coward, could never feel equal in such a relationship.

That was all it was, of course. All. Just an attraction, and these other tangled feelings didn’t mean anything at all. She was a dumb woman with an insane fascination for strong men. Nothing more.

Desperately, she went on lying to herself.

Eyes closed, she felt more than heard soft footsteps on the deck, and became aware that Michael had sat down on the padded bench across from the one she occupied. She heard the snap of a lighter, and looked up to find him lighting a cigarette, face expressionless.

“You want to tell me what that was all about?” he asked when the lighter was back in his pocket.

She cleared away the lump in her throat. “Nothing. It wasn’t about anything. I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have said it.”

“I want to know why you said it, Robin.”

“Just forget it, all right?”

“No.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and looked at her steadily. “There’s something
going on inside you that I don’t like, something that’s tearing you up. So what’s this crap about heroes—and your feeling inadequate?”

She stiffened. “It’s nothing. I told you.”

Michael began frowning. “Robin, I don’t know what you think I am, but if you’ve got some image of armor and a white charger, you can forget it.”

“Not that kind of hero.” Robin heard herself, and she couldn’t believe she was saying this; she had never told anybody about her stupid fixation. “Not the storybook stuff, all pretty and white and bloodless. The real thing, Michael, that’s what you are. You and men like you.”

“Robin—”

“Oh, I know all about men like you.” She knew her voice was shaking, but the words burst out nonetheless, like waters from floodgates. “My father, my brothers, uncles—all cops. My father. He’s a cop like you, the kind of cop you don’t read about in the papers. He earns scars instead of medals, just like you do, I’ll bet. He hasn’t any nerves and doesn’t know what fear is.
Like you. Pressure never gets to him, and he never doubts himself and his abilities, and he’s always in control. Like you.”

BOOK: Captain's Paradise
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