The Spy Who Left Me (16 page)

This was her Ty, and just as he knew how to kiss her, she knew how to kiss him. She ran her fingers through his tousled hair, traced the soft, delicate rims of his ears with her fingertips, ran a fingernail lightly down the back of his neck until he shivered beneath her touch, and pressed her breasts against his rock-hard chest.

This was her Ty, but new and exciting. She’d never kissed a man with a mustache. Never kissed
him
with a mustache. Deep down, she realized that’s what made its tickle erotic, the scrub of his beard tantalizing.

He cupped her butt and pressed his pelvis against hers until she felt his hardness. She tilted her head, opened her mouth more fully to him and kissed him back, deeply, with all the hunger she’d felt since coming to Hawaii.

He let go of her bottom and put one hand behind her head, tantalizing her with his tongue as he took the offensive, holding her as if he’d never let her go.

She looped her arms around his neck and moaned softly, losing all track of time, all track of everything but Ty.

“Uh-hum.” A man cleared his throat.

Thanks to Ty’s skill with his hands, lips, and tongue, she hadn’t even heard the man approach.

Ty dropped his hand from her neck. She pulled back from him guiltily and looked at the ground.

“We should probably get a room,” Ty whispered in her ear. “Your bed. Tonight. Don’t lose the mood.” He took her hand and squeezed it.

Then he dropped her hand and turned to greet the man with an exterminator logo on his shirt who’d just walked up. “Hey, dude. What’d you find? Are we being overrun with roaches?”

Saved from my own folly by the exterminator.

Heart pounding wildly, Treflee turned and walked away, toward the plantation house. She was so confused by her reaction to Ty, she barely registered that Laci had disappeared from the lanai. Why should she be so disappointed by the appearance of the exterminator and having to cut their act short? Ty had just been running with the cover story, hadn’t he? He was joking about bed. He had to be. But she was shaking.

Halfway to the house, Faye and Brandy ran out to greet her. They flanked her, joining her in lockstep. She acknowledged them with a nod of her head.

“Going back to the house?” Faye asked.

Ignoring the warning look Treflee shot them to leave her alone, Brandy caught her arm. “I wouldn’t go in there just now. Laci is hacked off at you.”

“At me?”
So she had seen.
Treflee slowed down. “Why? What have I done to her?”

From her other side, Faye cleared her throat. “She thinks you’re poaching.”

Poaching? Poaching!
Treflee wanted to scream. Poaching her own husband, stupid pigheaded man. She was trying her best to get rid of him. Sort of.

She opened her mouth to give them a piece of her mind, and shut it again just as fast. Call her patriotic or simply foolish, but even as upset and confused as she was, she couldn’t out one of the U.S.’s top spies. She refused to be involved in a Valerie Plame–type affair.

“I didn’t know she was so into Hal,” Treflee said evenly instead. “All we did was have lunch.”

Brandy applied enough pressure on Treflee’s arm to draw her to a halt. “She saw you kissing Ty.”

Treflee took a deep breath. “
He
kissed me.” She shrugged and shook her arm free from Brandy’s grasp. “He’s a player. Half his job around here is to flirt with us.”

“It’s a big deal to Laci,” Faye said. “Look, we aren’t the enemy. We’re just trying to help you out and keep the peace around here. Laci’s great on so many levels. Really a good, loyal friend. But she’s possessive about guys. You don’t cross her. Things get ugly.”

Brandy nodded along as Faye talked. “Why don’t you take a nice stroll on the beach until the storm clears? Give us a little time to talk her down.”

Treflee’s gaze bounced between the two of them. She didn’t care two nickels if Laci was hacked off. “I’m going to my room.”

She strode off toward the house. The other two girls hung back.

Just inside the door, Laci confronted her. “I saw you kissing Ty.” She blocked the way to the stairs and rooms above.

“Yeah?” Treflee tried to push past her.

Laci was a brick house, totally unmovable. Her green eyes flashed wildly with fury. And her sunburned face turned an even darker shade of red. She should have worn sunscreen. She was going to pay for her folly with a fresh batch of freckles.

Treflee held her ground, getting angrier by the second that some other woman had designs on
her
husband. For as long as Ty refused to sign those papers, he was still hers, which gave her the right to kiss him if she damn well felt like it.

She glared at Laci. “It was just a kiss.”

She meant it. Contrary to what Laci thought, it
was
just a kiss. Treflee would be a fool to think it was more.

Without warning, Laci shoved Treflee. Caught off guard, Treflee tumbled back against the wall, rattling the house and knocking a hanging glass vase full of plumeria off its hook in the process.

The vase crashed to the floor and shattered on the hardwood just as Tita waddled into the room from the kitchen, carrying a large gift basket filled to overflowing with home-baked goodies, fruit, and macadamia nuts. “What’s this!”

Laci backed off and away from Treflee. Treflee shook herself, a prize fighter loosening up after a blow.

Tita set the basket down on a sofa table and surveyed the damage. “What happened?”

Laci shrugged. “Sorry.” She pointed to the mess. “Put this on my bill.” She glared at Treflee and stalked off, leaving her to explain.

Treflee squatted to pick up the pieces of glass and avoid Tita’s intense gaze. “Vacation jitters.” She tried to laugh it off, make light of it. “She got too much sun today. She got burned. Badly. She could use some aloe from your garden.”

“I’ll cut some for her and bring it up to her.” Tita put a hand on Treflee’s arm. “Leave it. You’ll cut yourself. I’ll call the maid to clean up.” She reached beneath Treflee’s arm and tugged to pull her up.

When Treflee stood, she found Tita studying her. “This is about Ty?”

The woman was perceptive. Treflee nodded.

Tita shook her head and let out a deep sigh, mumbling beneath her breath in Hawaiian. “Fighting over a man is bad business. When will you learn, my little
ipos
?” She shook her head again. “It will only get you into trouble.”

CHAPTER NINE

Treflee begged off the afternoon and evening activities to rest. But there was no rest for the weary.

Carla popped in to check on her when she got back from snorkeling. “You shouldn’t have crossed Laci. The girls warned you.” She checked Treflee again for late-breaking signs of a concussion from her smack-down by the surfboard. “She’s making life miserable for all of us! You don’t know how she can pout and rant.”

Treflee had a fair idea.

Carla pronounced her concussion-free and sat on the edge of the bed next to her, pleading with her. “Look, I know you’re going through a bad divorce. Hot guys falling all over you has to be a big boost to the old ego.” She paused, looking like she was trying to properly frame her words. “But what’s a vacation romance to you, in the long run? It’s not like it’s going to last.”

She has no idea
. Still, Carla’s words stung.

“You have the handsome Hawaiian-looking guy,” Carla continued. “Can’t you just let Lace have Ty to herself? Let her sink or swim on her own without competing with you?”

As if she were a femme fatale, a siren who could turn men on or off with a glance! Carla’s faith in her should have been flattering, but uncontrollable jealousy aside, Treflee faced a dilemma. Wanting to oblige and stay as far away from Ty as possible on the one hand, and forced to stick to a cover story that Ty might decide to renege on again at any second on the other. All weighed against her own safety. Face it, she needed his protection. Which meant staying close to him no matter what.

Treflee bit her lip. “I wish it was that simple.”
Too true.
“But I can’t give him up just now.”

*   *   *

At dinner served family-style in the plantation dining room, Ty was absent. Greg presided and happily announced, “Get to bed early tonight. The van rolls out of here for the volcano at four
A.M.
sharp! We don’t want to miss the sunrise at the House of the Sun.”

“Four
A.M.
!” Treflee stared at him. “You’re kidding?”

“Nope. Sunrise is at six-fifteen. Two-hour trip. Do the math.” He grinned. “Dress in layers for cool-weather bike riding. It’ll be thirty degrees colder at the crater than down here. Bring your overnight bag, rain gear, and camping clothes. We’ll be tent camping near Hana tomorrow night. Weather looks great. Nothing but sunshine in the forecast, but things can change quickly up on the mountain and on the windward, tropical side of the island.”

“Bike riding! Camping!” Treflee turned to glare at her conniving cousin. “You never said anything about bike riding and tent camping.”

“Last-minute change of schedule just before we left. It looked like fun.” Carrie shrugged. “Be glad we’re driving to the top of Haleakala and riding down, not the other way around.”

“I didn’t bring bike-riding gear.”

“Don’t worry.” Carrie winked. “They provide mountain bikes, helmets, pads, and rain gear.” Her smile widened. “I brought an extra pair of bike shorts you can borrow.”

Yeah, great consolation.
Carrie was two sizes larger than Treflee. A new suspicion dawned. “Just how long is this bike ride?”

“Twenty-eight miles.” Laci spoke from across the table to her for the first time all meal, radiating enjoyment over Treflee’s dismay. “What’s the matter? Not in shape for a downhill cruise?”

Treflee wanted to smack her, or even merely tap her lightly on those red, burned shoulders of hers.

Carrie interceded. “Anyone under ninety who’s ridden a bike in the last twenty years can make this trip.” She smiled at Treflee. “You’ll do fine.”

Maybe.
But not at four
A.M.
! That was strictly Carrie’s territory.

And how in the world was Ty planning to protect her in a tent?

She had visions of sharing a sleeping bag.
Oh, boy! Best not to think about that.

*   *   *

At ten
P.M.
, Treflee lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling fan lazily turning. She’d showered and set the alarm for three-thirty. Five and a half hours—way too little sleep for an eight-hour girl like her.

Dead tired, bruised, and sore, she couldn’t sleep. Living a spy’s life was too complicated. She’d bungled everything, including her relationship with Laci. The last thing she needed was Laci as her enemy. She had enough of those already.

And more than her share of bruises. The ones on her neck had gone from red to deep purple. And now she had bruises on her head, arms, hips, thighs, even her butt, from her surfing adventure.

Her skin was dry from the salt water. She’d slathered herself in the coconut oil from Mrs. Ho. And put the guava lip balm on her lips to avoid sun chapping. She wore her cami and shorts. Trying to feel somewhat sexy and less like a disaster site, she’d spritzed on her favorite perfume, with the result that she smelled like a well-perfumed and somewhat exotic fruit salad. Try as she might, she wouldn’t be able to sleep until Ty rattled the door and tried to break into her room.

Oh, yes, she knew he’d give it the old spy try. He’d promised and he
always
kept his promises.

She looked through the dark toward the door and the dresser she’d slid up against it. She wasn’t exactly trying to thwart Ty. She was trying to put aside temptation.
Hers.

After this afternoon, she didn’t trust herself to resist him. Her heart raced just at the thought of him in her bed. Which was very bad indeed. If she slept with him, she’d lose her resolve and her heart. She’d take him back and be right back living the lonely, frightening life of a spy’s wife. Always worried he wouldn’t come home. Always yearning to make a family with him.

She sighed, wishing she had those divorce papers so she could get him to sign them before she changed her mind. What, exactly, was she supposed to do about them? How could she possibly recover them? And why, oh why, would anyone besides her or Ty want them?

She thought about telling Ty. She had no doubt he could deal with whoever took them much better than she could. But she hated the thought of his reaction. No, it was probably better to conceal their very existence from him. It was just one more secret to keep.

Thinking of Ty—where was he? He’d disappeared after the exterminator left, not to be seen again, the coward.

Why hadn’t he tried to break into her room yet? Sorry, but old wifely habits die hard. She wouldn’t be able to sleep until she knew he was back safely and completely unable to penetrate her room.