Page 13 of Beachcomber Danger

Most people would have kept their yacht at a marina. Not Gable. He kept his nearby because he went out often. He came by his boating pastime genuinely, not as an affectation of wealth. This was one of the points Dane posted in the man’s favor. So far Gable was in the black on Dane’s score card of who owed who how much, but the card wasn’t full yet.

When they got to the yacht and boarded, Dane sat in the main salon with Shana on the long white leather couch. They’d been in the salon of a yacht before on a case, but Dane preferred not to dwell on that violent encounter. The engines purred as Gable piloted the boat out of the harbor.

“How far out do you suppose we need to go?” Shana asked.

She sat forward with her elbows on her knees, looking at him sideways. Her hair fell in lush waves, some tendrils falling across her face, obscuring her eyes in a sexy peek-a-boo way. He slid up against her, meeting his hips to hers and feeling the contact like they were two magnets—hot magnets. The attraction was strong and their body heat so high he was surprised there wasn’t steam coming off the spot where they touched.

“I figure a fifteen-minute ride ought to do it.” His voice came out huskier than he’d wanted it to. This was serious business. He needed to have a powwow with the Governor. The Secret Service men had proved they weren’t trustworthy, proved they didn’t trust Dane and Shana. And last, but not least, they had proved that they didn’t intend to let Dane and Shana do a thing they didn’t know about. They had something in mind for Dane and Shana and they were telling them very little of what that part was.

“This is nerve-wracking,” she said, leaning into him.

“What? The boat ride?”

She didn’t snort or punch his arm or laugh at his joke. Instead, she gave him the full deep and open depths of her green gaze with nothing held back. Her vulnerability was breathtaking.

“Knowing the Secret Service is keeping us under their thumb to use us for some purpose and not telling us.” She paused. He ran his thumb across her full lips, her cheekbone, her temple. He wanted to kiss those plush lips, wanted to kiss the worry out of her, wanted to promise her everything would be all right, that he’d protect her. He had her covered. But he didn’t because she would hate it.

“We can’t trust them, Dane.”

He touched his forehead to hers and pushed his fingers through her hair, wrapping a hand behind her neck and holding her with the other.

“I know. We got this.”

She grunted a laugh then because he’d thrown her words back at her.

There was no way in hell he wanted Shana in this with him. But there was no way in hell she’d let him go it alone. And in truth, he’d be lost without her, wouldn’t he?

“Don’t try and do this without me.”

She was a mind-reader, but he wasn’t going to let her know that.

He pulled her in for a tight hug, for himself as much as for her. It lasted until Gable came down the stairs from the pilot house.

“How far out do you want to go or do you have somewhere in particular in mind for this joy ride?”

“Another five minutes worth and then anchor it.”

“Aye-Aye, captain.” He saluted Dane and went back up to man the controls. Lucky for Dane the man was big on intrigue. He’d have to crush Gable’s hopes eventually, but it was necessary. He couldn’t let his billionaire movie-mogul friend in on this action and had mixed feelings on having involved him this far.

But sometimes you needed the help of friends to get the job done. Dane, in spite of his unworthiness, had always had good friends and he’d been a team player since his special ops days. Peter had had a hell of a time breaking him from his loner inclinations, but he’d done it. And Dane had been a team player ever since—with one minor breach, a dark time Dane couldn’t afford to think about right now.

Instead, he slipped his phone from his pocket and put it on the glass cocktail table where it clicked loudly.

“Ready to call?”

“No. I can’t use either of our phones for this call.”

The engines shut off, eliminating the low-level drone from the background. A beat later he heard the chunky metallic sound of the anchor lowering. Gable came down the stairs again, this time he took a seat opposite Dane.

“Now tell me what this is all about. No one will be listening out here.”

“Give me your cell phone.”

Gable’s eyebrows knit, but he did what he was told. Dane took it.

“I can’t read you in on this one, my friend.” Dane’s face reflected his implacable seriousness.

Gable looked stunned and leaned back.