“I see.”
“Kate, just because I was more interested in your body than in your mind doesn’t mean I thought you didn’t have one.”
She took a step back, her cheeks flushing red. “Sam, we agreed—”
He muttered an oath and held up his hands. “Sorry.”
“No problem.” She cleared her throat and turned to the table. “We’d better get started.”
Ursula hated the water. She’d never learned to swim. The only reason she owned a bikini was that she looked so scrumptious in one.
She lifted her arm to hold her hat against the breeze and inhaled deeply. “I just love sailing,” she said. “It’s so exciting, don’t you think?”
The boy nodded quickly, his gaze riveted to her cleavage. His frame hadn’t yet fleshed out, and he looked all coltish arms and legs in his swimsuit, but the gleam in his eye was all man.
Ursula twitched her shoulders so her breasts jiggled, hiding a smirk when she saw the boy’s eyes widen. Teenagers were so easy to manipulate. This one appeared to be sixteen, maybe seventeen, and like all adolescent males, he could be led around by his sex drive.
He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing like a cork. “I have a sailboat.”
Of course, she knew he had a boat. She’d noticed him drag up some little thing with a rainbow-striped sail on the sand ten minutes ago. It was the only reason she was giving him this free show. She needed that boat now that she’d had to abandon her plan to leave Montebello by plane.
The past twenty-four hours had been simply dreadful. When she’d reached the airport yesterday, she’d found it crawling with security. She’d been smart enough to work her way past them, but when she’d seen the cop behind the ticket counter, checking everyone’s ID, she’d known it was no use. She wouldn’t be getting on a plane anytime soon.
There weren’t many choices open to her. Either she continued to hole up in the hotel room she could no longer afford until the heat at the airport died down, or she had to leave this godforsaken island by water. And she hated the water.
She should have known better than to team up with Gretchen Hanson. Sure, they’d been childhood chums in Shady Rock, Colorado, but Gretchen had always reminded Ursula of a rat. The woman must have spilled everything the instant she’d been caught. Now the police knew Ursula’s name, and the photo from her driver’s licence was on wanted posters all over the country.
It was dangerous to be seen in public—with a face and body as outstanding as hers, she naturally drew attention. Yet she could have saved herself the trouble of donning the sunglasses and concealing her hair under her hat when she’d decided to troll the beach for prospects this morning. This kid hadn’t looked at her face yet.
“A sailboat. How marvellous.” She paused and tipped down her sunglasses, giving him a slow, suggestive perusal. “And I’ll just bet you’ve got a big one.”
“B-big?”
“I like them long and sleek. Is yours?”
“My…”
“Your boat, honey. Is it big?”
“She’s a twenty-three-foot catboat.”
“Ooh, sounds yummy. Are you… experienced?”
“Uh…”
She adjusted her hat and leaned toward him. “I meant at sailing.”
“Yeah. I’ve been sailing for years.”
“I can see that,” she murmured, drawing her fingertips along his scrawny forearm. “You have such lovely muscles here.”
His jaw went slack. “Uh.”
She sighed, giving her breasts an extra heave. “I wish I knew someone who could take me.”
“T-take you?”
“For a sailboat ride.”
“I could take you out.”
“You? What a great idea. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“We could go now.”
“Mmm. Evening would be so much nicer. The moonlight, the darkness.” She traced his wiry little biceps with a fingernail. “It’s so romantic.”
His Adam’s apple threatened to bob out of his throat. “I, uh…”
“How far have you gone?”
“What?”
“Have you ever gone all the way?”
He shifted from one foot to the other, his body twitching with discomfort. “Sure. Lots of times.”
“Wow.” She rested her fingertips on his chest and leaned closer still. “All the way to Tamir? You must be a really good sailor.”
“Tamir?”
Ursula hid her impatience. The hormones that were raging through the kid’s system were starting to shut down his brain. That’s what she was counting on, but not before she got what she wanted out of him. “You know. Tamir. The island that’s nearest to Montebello.”
“Uh, my mom won’t let me go that far.”
She flicked her little finger teasingly against his nipple. “Do you always do what your mommy says?”
His breathing was getting shallow. “The currents are t-tricky. Sometimes the swells can reach ten meters, and my cat’s not—”
“I would be very, very grateful to get a ride to Tamir.” She rubbed her knee lightly between his thighs. “Very grateful.”
“I, uh.” He inhaled quickly, beads of sweat popping out on his upper lip. “Oh, geez.”
“Would you like a sample of my—” she dropped her hand to the front of his swim trunks “—gratitude?”
He trembled and pushed himself against her hand. His eyes were glazed. “Oh, geez. Oh, geez.”
“We could meet here at sunset.” She glanced up and down the beach. This cove was practically deserted, except for some kids tossing a Frisbee and a handful of sunbathers. And speaking of a handful, this boy felt about ready to burst. He’d probably never been this close to a real woman, let alone felt one touch him. How tiresome. She squeezed lightly and withdrew her hand. “It can be our secret, hmm?”
He fumbled for her wrist. “Sure. Whatever you say. Just do that again.”
It was easy to twist out of his grasp since his palms were so sweaty. Unconcerned with the state she was leaving him in, Ursula turned away, wiping her hand on her thigh. “Later, honey. When we’re on the way to Tamir.”
Chapter 5
It was hard to believe that such a change could take place in twenty-four hours, but the quiet office Sam had led Kate to the day before was now a hive of activity.
Because of the special nature of their assignment, they had been able to bypass the Navy’s usual requisition procedures and had commandeered equipment from every available source. Telephones and a fax machine had been hooked up, along with a row of computers. A printer chugged away in one corner, spewing out maps of the surveillance grid and the course each boat would take. Uniformed men and women, some from the navy, some from the Montebellan police, moved purposefully at their tasks.
The unconventional fleet was already taking shape. In order to keep the operation from the public, only members of the Montebellan police had been asked for the use of their private vessels. The response from the police had been overwhelming. Offers of everything from cruisers to runabouts