A desperate search…
Schoolteacher Gracie James has never seen more danger than her kindergarten grade classroom, but when she goes searching for her missing sister, she’s thrown into a world of sex, crime…and passion. Following a hot lead, she sneaks onto a stranger’s boat—and gets caught. Their one-sided conversation convinces her of two things. One: the guy is seriously sexy. Two: he knows something about her sister. Oh, yeah. And did she mention he’s sexy?
And a sizzling attraction…
Jake Alexander, former cop, is staking out a yacht brimming with criminal activity, for an insurance company, when a woman, dressed to kill and totally irresistible, stumbles into his dangerous undercover op. If he hadn’t tackled her, she’d have tottered straight onto the questionable yacht in those ridiculous high heels. Then she’d be dead. Or worse. As much as he’d like to kick her off his boat, he can’t risk her going off on some hare-brained scheme—but he can’t keep her around to muck up his job. Oh, yeah. And did he mention she’s distracting as hell?
Lead to dangerous desire…
Unfortunately, she has a keen mind of her own. And a body any man would die for. Jake’s attempt to keep Gracie safe quickly morphs into a reluctant alliance. And a whole lot more… But Gracie finds herself knee deep in more trouble than she bargained for, with secrets revealed and the criminals coming after her. Unless they find a way to trust each other, they’re finished. Oh, yeah. And did they mention they’re in love?
Information:
Title: Dangerous Desire
Author: Annie Seaton
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Length: 179 pages
Release Date: September 2013
ISBN: 978-1-62266-134-3
Imprint: Ignite
Excerpt:
© 2013 Annie Seaton
Chapter One
“You okay there, lady?”
Heart pounding and dry-mouthed, Gracie James turned to the brawny security guard standing behind her. Putting on a childish giggle—God knew she heard plenty of them every day in her kindergarten classroom—she looked up into a battered face and tried to look sexy and apologetic at the same time.
“Sorry to be a bother, but my heel got caught in the grate at the bottom of the ramp and then I dropped my purse.”
His gaze traveled slowly down her body from the plunging neckline to her bare legs and she fought the urge to tug at the bottom of the tight dress, which just skimmed the tops of her thighs. He bent and retrieved her purse. He was so close to her, the top of his head brushed against her leg.
“Off to a party on the Midas?” He handed the purse to her and gave her a knowing look, obviously used to scantily dressed women in killer heels walking by.
“Yes. That’s where I’m heading.” She clutched her purse in one hand and smoothed the other hand over the tight fabric, trying to play the role of a seasoned partygoer. “Which way do I go?”
The guard smiled, his fleshy lips spreading even wider as his lecherous gaze remained fixed below her waist.
“Go to the end of the fourth dock and turn right.” He pointed to the floating concrete walkway, which ran down the center of the marina, without removing his slick gaze from her butt. “The Midas is right at the end. She’s too big to come into any other berth.”
“Thanks,” Gracie said, trying to inject confidence into her voice even though her heart was pounding and her legs were shaking. All she wanted to do was keep walking, preferably in the other direction. “I’ll be off, then. Don’t want to miss the party.”
“You won’t miss anything, babe,” he said. “Parties on the Midas last all night. Legendary here in the tropics.” He laughed and winked at her. “I knock off at midnight if you want to meet me for a drink?”
Gracie took a deep breath and gave him what she hoped was a coy glance. “Oh, I bet you say that to all the girls. Thanks, but I’m actually meeting up with a friend.”
“See you in the morning…maybe,” he replied finally, looking her in the eye and Gracie repressed a shiver—God, he was almost salivating.
She took a deep breath and walked along the dock in the direction he’d indicated. Turning and heading along row B-4, she knew his lewd gaze was fixed on her departing rear end and this time she did pull at the hem of her dress as she hurried along on the four-inch heels.
More than five hundred vessels of all shapes and sizes crammed the deep-water berths; multimillion-dollar vessels and smaller boats were moored side by side in parallel rows. Flickering lights reflected on the still water and music drifted across from the huge, luxury motor cruiser sitting at the far end of the marina. Gracie kept her gaze firmly fixed on the huge boat until she reached the end of the dock. She turned to see if the security guy was still watching her, and she relaxed with a small, relieved sigh. He’d gone back into his little booth at the base of the ramp and his gaze was fixed on the television flickering in the corner.
First hurdle crossed.
Despite twenty-four-hour security, Gracie had figured if she was dressed to kill, she’d look as though she was going to a party on the boat despite having no invitation. Life on the one hundred and twenty foot luxury yacht where her sister had been working as a housemaid over the tropical winter was one continuous party, according to the daily e-mails from Regan. But the e-mails had stopped suddenly three weeks ago when she’d told Gracie she’d been invited to stay on the boat for the trip down to this marina and since then Regan hadn’t returned any of her increasingly worried e-mails or texts. Her phone went straight to voice mail and Gracie was sick with worry. Even if she didn’t approve of Regan’s lifestyle—which sometimes teetered on the edge—they had always kept in touch.
Regan had the exotic and flamboyant personality, and Gracie had always been the boring sister. Gracie had put aside her share of the small inheritance from their mother and had eked out a living working part-time jobs while she’d gone to university and then she’d settled into a teaching career. Regan had flitted around the world on her half share.
But no matter how Regan had led her life, she had always been there for Gracie and was her only living relative. She’d looked out for Gracie when their mother and grandmother had died in the same year and had waited until Gracie had finished high school before she had taken off on her travels.
Ten years later, she still tried to tell her baby sister what to do, particularly now that Gracie was thinking about getting married.
“He just wants a nanny for his kids—he doesn’t give a shit about you.” She could still hear Regan’s voice the last time they’d Skyped. Regan had threatened to drive over from the coast and confront David about the way he was treating Gracie and ask him why he really wanted to marry her.
“You’re worth more than that. When are you going to wake up and realize there is a life out there to be lived?” As usual, her sister had shown her displeasure at Gracie’s choices. Gracie kept her opinion of Regan’s lifestyle choices to herself. She hated confrontation. But Regan had never been able to understand why she’d moved to the outback to teach and Gracie knew if she didn’t tell David she wouldn’t marry him, her sister would—with guns blazing.
Now she shook her head and turned onto the dock leading to the last mooring. She was worried sick about Regan’s disappearance. She knew there was something wrong because Regan would have wanted to know what had happened with David.
Earlier in the day, walking through the marina in the hot tropical sunshine, Gracie had scoped out the marina and knew exactly where the luxury motor yacht was moored. Strolling up and down the rows licking an ice cream, she had blended into the crowd of tourists ogling the multimillion-dollar boats moored in Abel Point marina. She had stood back and watched for a while as a crew of workers had washed down the large vessel. A couple of female deckhands in skimpy white shorts and bright blue-and-gold bikini tops had chatted away in another language as they had polished the trim on the side of the boat. An older man who had dragged a water hose from the water station on the boardwalk had stopped beside her.
“Looking for a job, love? They’re hiring housemaids at the moment.” He had looked her up and down with interest. “Just go on over to the marina office.”
“Er…no thanks,” she had replied hesitantly. “I’m actually looking for someone.”
“Yeah? Who?”
“Regan James? She was working on the boat up in Cairns.”
“Not this boat. Never heard of her.” He’d pulled the hose sharply and it snaked past her feet.
Gracie pulled her phone from her pocket and followed him closer to the side of the dock. “This is her. Have you seen her around another boat, maybe?”
He took the phone and frowned before he held it out to the other deckhand standing near the water station. “Mick, you know this girl?”
A younger guy with a blond buzz cut sauntered over and looked Gracie up and down before taking the phone from the older man. “What did you say her name was?”
“Regan. Regan James.” Gracie had caught a look as it passed between the two men.
“Nuh. Don’t know no Regan,” he said.
With a flick of his head, the older man had gestured for the crewman to follow him and they had disappeared through a doorway on the bottom deck. Gracie had stood there for a few moments watching the girls work until a prickle of unease had skittered down her spine and forced her to look up. The older man had pointed her out to a man in a white uniform standing in a large glass doorway on the top deck. She’d turned away and sauntered casually back along the boardwalk despite having a feeling she was being discussed.
Now she was back and the full moon hung low in the east, casting a soft and mysterious light across the moored boats. All was quiet as a song ended and the loud music faded away to nothing. The occasional creak of a boat rocking in the gentle swell and a sail flapping in the breeze did nothing to disguise her footsteps. Afraid someone would hear her walking by, she bent down and removed her shoes, looping her fingers through the straps as she made her way quietly to the end of the boardwalk.
If the conservative parents at the little outback school where she’d taught kindergarten for the past two years could see her now, she’d probably be out of a job. Skintight, red, sparkly dress, four-inch heels, and heading for a party on a tycoon’s yacht. The butterflies in her stomach confirmed for her, she was way out of her comfort zone. Even shopping for the clothes this afternoon had made her nervous.
This was so not my scene. Not at all.
Of course, she wasn’t going to try to board the yacht and join the party just yet. She was going to check it out before she decided on her next move. Gracie swallowed and put one hand to her throat, trying to dislodge the fear stuck in there like a lump of stale bread. It was much easier dealing with snotty noses and tying shoelaces than skulking around a marina with million-dollar boats docked along each boardwalk.
As a private eye, I’d be a dismal failure.
Her worry about Regan warred with irritation. At this rate she’d end up a total mess. If her big sister had managed to stay out of trouble before, Gracie would have simply gone to the police, but that was not an option. She bit down on the worry and the anger and tried to put a positive spin on her thoughts. Hopefully Regan would show up tomorrow, they would laugh about Gracie’s overreaction, and they could spend a couple of weeks on the coast, having a vacation together.
Thank God it was the start of the summer holidays and school didn’t go back for six weeks. Plans formed in her mind as she kept walking, and she turned left onto the last dock, ignoring the guard’s directions to turn right.
Moored at the end of the row of berths opposite the Midas was an old wooden single-hulled sloop with peeling paint and tattered sails, out of keeping with the luxurious yachts moored alongside it. She’d smiled to herself this morning when she’d read the faded name on the side of the boat. Pretty Lady was more in her dotage than her name suggested. The old boat rocked gently in the waves rolling in through the channel of Pioneer Bay from the Whitsunday Passage. Each time the water level dropped from the wash, it exposed the barnacles clinging to the battered hull. Gracie had walked past it twice during the day and each time there had been no sign of life on the old tub. The view from the old boat looked straight across the narrow channel to the berth where the Midas was moored.
Now she stood for a moment in the shadows before moving slowly across to the old sloop. Looking around once more to check that no one was watching her, she jumped across the narrow expanse of dark water and landed quietly on the deck. It was surprisingly smooth beneath her bare feet. She hitched impatiently at her dress as it crept up past her thighs and longed for a comfortable pair of shorts and a T-shirt, as she made her way to the back of the boat. A soft scraping sound set her heart pounding and she paused midstep, breath held, listening intently. Goose bumps ran down her arms and she held her shoes and bag tightly against her stomach, not moving. The boat rocked slightly again and she leaned her back against the side of the cabin in the middle of the deck to keep her balance.
Only the boat rubbing against its mooring.
She let out her breath and inched along the boat until she reached the narrow V of the back deck. Looking across the water, she had a perfect view of the deck of the Midas. The music was blaring again and voices and laughter drifted across the narrow channel between the two boats, as did a distinct aroma of marijuana. Gracie searched around in the dim light for the best vantage point before she spotted a life jacket on a peg. She reached up, pulled it down and then made a seat in the shadows. Settling down, she sat cross-legged watching the boat to see if her sister appeared.
A large group of partygoers in bathing suits milled about on the middle deck. Some were dancing while others sat around watching a scantily clad woman pole dance at the back of the deck. One of the girls who’d been polishing the trim that morning stood on the top sundeck on the side closest to the old ketch and her voice carried clearly across the water. A skimpy white bikini exposed an eyeful of tanned skin, and her arms were linked through those of a man on each side. Another woman in a red sarong stood in the doorway watching and Gracie gasped, scrambling to her feet. She leaned against the side of the boat to get her balance, putting her other hand over her eyes to block out the bright light reflecting on the glass door next to the woman. It looked like Regan—long, dark hair and olive skin—but before she could get a good look, the woman turned and stepped back inside.
She was sure it was Regan. So why the hell wasn’t she answering her messages? And why had that guy said he’d never heard of her?
“I’m ready, who goes first?” The European accented voice floated across the water. The young woman in the bikini had climbed up and was sitting on the railing, and for a moment Gracie thought she was going to dive into the water. One of the men moved across and held her waist and she leaned in and wrapped her arms around his neck pulling his head close to hers, while the other man crouched down. Only the top of his head was visible as he disappeared between her legs. Giggles punctuated by moans of delight drifted across the water. Gracie gasped and put her hand over her eyes.
Oh, God, Regan, what have you got yourself into this time?
Gracie stood and took a deep breath. What the hell was she going to do now?
She should have known she’d never be able to carry off trying to get on the boat. It was a stupid idea.
Little Miss Boring Schoolteacher. Way out of your league.
God, the Country Women’s Association Hall in Ashby Downs had been the venue for the most recent party she’d been to and they’d had tea and scones. There was no way she could confidently step onto that boat. Regan had always had to egg her on in their childhood escapades but this time it was out of the question.
Totally.
But I have to.
Going to the police and reporting Regan as a missing person was not an option. She had a few minor indiscretions in her past, and if she turned up and discovered Gracie had been to the police, she’d be really pissed off. Besides she was almost sure it was Regan she’d glimpsed on the top deck. So all she had to do now was confirm it and everything would be fine.
Deciding to go back to the hotel for the night and rethink her plan, Gracie gathered up her shoes and purse and tiptoed along the front of the boat. She stumbled as it rocked slightly and she paused, listening, but there was only the sound of the water slapping gently on the side of the hull. The hair rose on the back of her neck and she moved quickly past the cabin. Gracie gripped the side of the boat and looked across at the dock. The gap between the boat and the floating pontoon had widened with the movement of the tide and she took a deep breath preparing to jump across the oily water to the concrete.
…
Jake Alexander had been watching the woman since she’d climbed onto his boat. He’d smothered a smile when she had covered her eyes as the action across the water heated up. The nightly activity on the Midas had been the same since he’d started this surveillance job. Same stuff, same drugs, different participants. He was well used to it.
It hadn’t helped his libido. Stuck on his old yacht with no company, he left quietly in the early hours each morning to drive back to his house up the coast. He would file his nightly reports and upload the photographs, shower, and try to catch some sleep before replenishing his rucksack with food for the next nightly stint. It had been a boring three weeks.
His interest had been caught by the comings and goings of some characters well known to the Queensland Police. Some shady characters he’d encountered through the past few years had made a few nocturnal visits. Each night was the same and he’d witnessed a variety of activities with a procession of beautiful women. Christ, he’d even learned some new tricks for his repertoire. Not that he was getting an opportunity to try any of them out. He was going to be stuck on his old tub as part of this insurance job for a while yet. As soon as it was over though, he’d be catching up with whichever of his female friends was up here on vacation. And if there were none around, it was always easy to find a female vacationer looking for some fun in this tropical playground.
The boredom of the night had disappeared when the blonde beauty in the red dress had dropped onto his deck and had inched along to the back of the boat. Jake had stood inside and watched through the small hatch as she briefly leaned against the side of the cabin near the hatch. He wondered what she was doing on his boat; she was so close he could have put his hand out and touched her. At first, he thought she was under the influence of something and had stumbled on to the wrong boat.
God knows, there was plenty of whatever one wanted around here.
Lucky she hadn’t ended up in the drink. But he soon changed his mind about her sobriety when she had silently and purposefully made her way to the back of the boat and had set up a vantage point with one of his old life jackets. For a moment, he wondered whether the insurance company had put another surveillance officer on the case, but soon dismissed that thought. They would have told him if that was the case, and besides, the old boat belonged to him and had nothing to do with them—or the police.
Jake had stood silently in the cabin and had watched the woman while she had observed the yacht. Even in the soft light, he could tell she was a looker. Although she didn’t have the jaded look of many of the women he’d seen over the past weeks, she was dressed provocatively. The soft moonlight had highlighted her loose blonde hair and he’d gotten a good look at her curves and long, bare legs as she’d crept across the deck. Her body was well toned and she looked as though she’d be more comfortable in a jogging outfit and runners. He grinned as she hitched impatiently at the short red dress plastered to her curves. And very nice curves they were.
Maybe she’s with Customs?
He wasn’t supposed to know the luxury vessel was being monitored by Customs and Border Protection officers but he’d put two and two together during an interesting conversation with his mate, Ben, a detective from the local police command.
They had sat on the rooftop deck of the bar at the marina, surrounded by tourists who had disembarked from one of the day tours out to the islands.
“Shame you’re not with us anymore. This current operation would be right up your alley, Jake,” Ben had said.
“Don’t rub it in. It’s hard enough sitting behind a camera all night watching all those local crims getting on and off the boat…I feel so bloody useless.” Jake had taken a swig of beer and had glared at his ex-partner. “What’s going down? Are they dealing from the cruiser?”
“Can’t say. But just pay extra close attention to who gets on and off. All I can tell you, it’s a customs job.” Ben had tapped the side of his nose and changed the subject, obviously aware he’d breached confidentiality. “So what’s your job all about? Why are you spending every night on that old leaky tub of yours? Who’s the insurance company after—Rodrigo Cabal?”
“The Brazilian guy?” Jake asked. “I don’t know. It’s strange. It’s got more of a police feel than an insurance job. I just have to record the comings and goings on the motor cruiser and take photographs of whoever gets on the boat.” He shook his head. “Bloody boring work.”
Ben had slapped his thigh and laughed. “And from all accounts, there are a few ‘comings’ on the boat.”
Jake had groaned at Ben’s joke. “I really don’t know what they’re after, because the CCTV in the marina picks up whoever boards the boat. It’s got me buggered. But hey, it pays the bills.”
“I honestly don’t know why you’re doing it.” Ben looked out across the water and shook his head. “You have an amazing house around the bay, three fabulous cars, and all the money you could ever need. And you live in one of the most beautiful places in the world, yet here you are taking on a shitty job that bores you to tears.”
“Makes me feel useful, I suppose,” Jake replied. Even he could hear the bitterness in his voice. He stretched his leg out in front of him looking down at the scar on his calf, still red and angry, six months after the last operation. The scar stretched from his knee to his ankle and he brushed his fingers across the indentation where the bullet had gone in and shattered his knee. If it hadn’t been for that split second, he would still be working with Ben in the job he loved. And a job he’d been bloody good at.
Medical retirement sucked. Big-time.
After he’d been shot, he’d endured months of surgery and rehabilitation; the bullet had shattered his tibia and kneecap and he’d ended up with a metal plate in his leg. Then he’d been moved on to a plastic surgeon for a massive skin graft operation.
Movement on the deck outside brought him back to the present and he stretched his leg so the stiffness in his knee wouldn’t hold him back. The woman stood and turned toward the dock, and Jake followed her silently to the front to the boat.
Hell, I can track a quarry in broad daylight without being seen. This one was a snack.
As she put her hand to the side of the boat to step up, Jake swiftly covered the last couple of yards before placing one hand over her mouth and pulling her back against his chest. Her mouth opened beneath his hand, and she twisted in his grasp. Holding her firmly, he pulled her down to the deck. Warm, smooth skin pressed into his legs as her dress rode up high above her panties.
“Shh,” he warned in a low voice. “Don’t make a sound. I won’t hurt you.”
He pulled her back into the cabin, and she twisted trying to get out of his grasp. Her lips opened beneath his fingers and he increased the pressure on her mouth with his flattened palm. The slippery fabric of her dress made it hard to keep a grip on her, and he bunched his other hand tightly in the material around her waist. As she pulled away, he lost his balance and they fell through the open door ending up on the cabin floor in a tangle of limbs.
“Fuck!” Pain shot through Jake’s knee and he let go of her. Carefully pushing himself up to his feet and trying to protect his knee, he could hear her scrabbling away from him in the dark. He reached down and grabbed her bare foot.
“Be quiet, for fuck’s sake,” he repeated tersely. “I said I won’t hurt you.”
In the dim light coming through the small hatch, sheer terror filled her expression. Wide-eyed, she lay on her back half under the table, pulling her dress down to cover her bared thighs. He held out his hand and she looked at it for a long moment, before placing her trembling hand in his. Pulling her to her feet in the narrow space, he braced himself on his good leg for balance. Her soft breasts pushed into his chest as he pulled her up and he jumped as a jolt of desire shot straight to his groin. He put his hand on her shoulders and tried to ignore the reaction of his body, disgusted with himself.
Christ, she’s got eyes as wide as rabbit caught in a spotlight and I’ve got a hard-on? I’ve been on this job too bloody long.
What he had to do was ignore his reaction and find out what she was doing on his boat. All his instincts were screaming she had something to do with what had been going down on the Midas and she wasn’t going anywhere till he found out.