Читать книгу Deadly Engagement - Elle James - Страница 12

Chapter 3

All the way to the McGregor B and B, Emma coached herself.

“Yes, he’s great looking and knows how to dive. That doesn’t mean he’s unmarried or available.” Though she hadn’t noticed a ring on his finger. “Ring or no ring, I don’t need a man in my life.” One lying, thieving bastard was enough to keep her from going down that path again.

Her hair blew out behind her, drying in the wind generated by exceeding the speed limit along the curvy coastal highway. The entire drive out to the B and B, she couldn’t stop thinking about how his hands felt resting on her waist, warm, large and strong. Nor could she get over the urge she’d had to fall back against him and feel the solid wall of his chest against her back.

She couldn’t drive fast enough to get away from her thoughts or the man who’d generated them, now following her to Molly’s.

Thank goodness the B and B was several miles out. It gave her time to gather her wits, so that when she pulled up in front of the quaint old mansion, she wouldn’t be drooling over a man she’d just met.

Emma climbed out of her Jeep and tried to smooth her hair into some semblance of order.

Molly McGregor burst through the door, her face wreathed in a smile. “Emma, honey, so glad to see you. It’s been ages.” She hurried down the stairs and engulfed Emma in a hug.

“Hey, Molly. Don’t be silly. I was here a week ago. Clam chowder night, if I remember correctly.”

“Two, sweetie. It’s been two weeks since I had the chowder.” Molly held her at arm’s length and stared into her face. “You look tired. Are you taking care of yourself?”

Great, not only was her hair a mess, she looked like a hag. “I’m fine. Just got through with a dive, and you know how the water takes it out of me. I brought you a guest.”

As if on cue, Creed’s black SUV pulled in beside Emma’s Jeep and he got out.

Molly’s brows rose as Creed straightened. “Oh, my. And I thought I was doing you a favor,” she whispered. In a louder voice, she held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Molly McGregor, owner, operator, chief cook and bottle washer of the McGregor B and B.”

“Creed Thomas. Nice to meet you.” He grasped her hand and smiled down at Emma’s friend.

A stab of something unfamiliar jolted Emma, followed by the sudden urge to break through their connected hands. Instead she cleared her throat. “What’s for lunch?”

Molly blushed and released Creed’s hand, her own hand rising to push her strawberry-blond hair behind her ear. “Lunch,” she sputtered. “What was it? Oh, yes, seafood chowder.” She waved toward the house. “Do you want to settle in your room first, Mr. Thomas?”

“Call me Creed.” He smiled again at Molly.

A stab of irritation spiked Emma’s blood pressure, and she bit down hard on her lip to keep from saying anything. What was wrong with her? She never got angry. And why should she care a fig if Creed Thomas smiled at her friend Molly? The woman deserved a little flirtation; she’d been living the life of a nun since she’d taken over the B and B. And Creed Thomas was a handsome man.

As Molly led Creed into the house, Emma studied the insurance adjuster. Dressed in his shorts and a pullover, he displayed muscular legs, a tight abdomen and shoulders broad enough to fill any doorway. He didn’t look like any of the insurance adjusters she’d ever met. In fact, he looked more like a cop or bouncer at a bar.

Sure, he was great to look at, but he didn’t follow directions and he’d disrupted her search for the Anna Maria. And from the sound of it, he’d be diving with her again tomorrow. Emma knew Dave could use the money. The more divers he had on board, the more he made to help him pay off his loan on the boat.

She couldn’t forbid him from taking on more divers. At least Creed would be diving in the rocky shallows at Cape Churn, and he’d proven he was capable.

Emma hoped they spent less time on the submerged yacht and more time searching for the Anna Maria.

Molly led Creed up the stairs to a door off the upper landing, ducking inside with him to explain the facilities.

Emma wandered around the great room shared by all the occupants of the B and B. The house had been left to Molly and Gabe McGregor on the deaths of their parents. Unable to afford the upkeep on the huge old house, Molly had converted it into a comfortable and thriving bed-and-breakfast. She seemed happy about her work and what she’d done with the place and was content with her choices in life.

Gabe had met the young artist Kayla Davies, the love of his life, who’d moved into the old lighthouse cottage.

Emma had made friends with Kayla, and they’d met for coffee once a week down by the marina until Kayla had her baby.

As Molly descended the stairs, she smiled at Emma. “Such a nice man. Where did you find him?”

“I didn’t find him, Gabe did. He came out on the dive boat with us today.”

“Oh, a diver?” Molly nodded. “Come, help me set the table. You can fill me in on Mr. Thomas.” She marched into the dining room and pulled plates, bowls, napkins and silverware from an antique buffet.

“Creed,” Emma corrected, opting to place the plates. “He wanted you to call him Creed. Anyone besides us three having lunch today?”

“No. The other guests are out enjoying the sunshine. It’s just the three of us.”

Emma groaned. “I’ll be a third wheel.”

“As if that could happen. We’re just having lunch. Emma, you can be so melodramatic at times.”

“I’m much more comfortable cleaning up scraped knees and diving than I am talking at a dinner table. Besides, he’s not my type.”

“What type would that be? You haven’t had a type since Randy left town. And that type you can do without.”

A stab of anger, guilt and longing settled over Emma. She’d thought she had a type once. Had even been engaged. Randy had been attentive, loving and accepting of her sometimes crazy work schedule at the hospital. He’d also been lying, cheating and stealing from the funds raised for the new hospital wing.

“Besides, if anyone is a third wheel,” Molly continued, “it would be me.” Gabe’s sister laughed, her joy of life infectious, making it hard for Emma to hold on to her anger or her guilt. Still, she didn’t want to tell Molly about the new guy in town. Her own thoughts about him were far too confusing, and she hadn’t had time to process them thoroughly.

“So, where’s he from?” Molly wasn’t going to let her off lightly.

“I don’t know.” Emma folded a napkin and laid it on the plate.

“Why’s he in town?” Molly persisted.

“He’s an insurance adjuster, or something like that. He came looking for a yacht his company insured.” At least Emma had one answer. Please, Molly, no more questions.

“Is he married?”

Emma stepped back. “Why don’t you ask him?” She hadn’t thought to inquire, nor was she interested. Having been engaged once, she had no intention of repeating that heartache. “He’s not wearing a ring, if that matters.”

“Good grief, woman. You’ve been in the man’s company for how long, and you haven’t gotten the basics?” Molly shook her head.

“I’m not interested.” Emma headed for the kitchen. “Don’t we have some chowder that needs to be served?”

Molly followed. “If you’re not interested in the man, then do you mind if I am?”

With her back to Molly, Emma poured the pot of chowder into an empty soup tureen. The thought of Molly dating the handsome diver didn’t sit right with Emma, and darned if she knew why. “Be my guest. He’s all yours.”

“Am I interrupting?” The object of their conversation pushed through the swinging door into the kitchen.

Emma spun, her face heating.

Molly clapped a hand over her mouth and giggled like a schoolgirl.

Pushing her embarrassment to the side, Emma answered, “No.” Thanks, Molly. Let’s not be too obvious about who we were talking about.

Emma lifted the heavy tureen and shoved it toward Creed. “Do you mind taking this into the dining room?”

“Not at all.” He carried the container into the other room as if it was as light as a feather, the door swinging closed behind him.

Molly burst out laughing, her eyes filling with tears. “What timing.”

Emma grabbed Molly’s wrist. “Let’s get this straight—I’m not interested in Creed Thomas, and I don’t want to talk about him. Got it?”

Her lips still trembling, Molly nodded. “Got it.” She grabbed a basket of bread sticks and pushed through the door, a smile on her face. “So, Mr. Thomas, are you married?”

Emma groaned, glanced around for a door to escape through, then thought better of it. No telling what Molly would be saying to the newcomer. Emma might need to be there to make sure she didn’t get in trouble. She armed herself with a pitcher of lemonade and followed Molly.

Creed glanced across at Emma as she entered, the lemonade in front of her like a shield to ward off handsome men and her attraction to them. Damned if it wasn’t working.

“I almost got married once, but it didn’t work out.”

“Why, if you don’t mind my asking?” Molly happily quizzed.

Emma almost turned around, lemonade and all, and retreated into the kitchen. Molly didn’t know a stranger and wasn’t afraid to ask the tough questions.

Creed’s voice made Emma stop before she’d half-turned. “Seems she liked my partner better.”

Something tightened in Emma’s chest, and she turned back to the dining room.

The diver had answered Molly, but his gaze captured Emma’s.

Emma knew betrayal and loss and, by the look on Creed’s face, he knew them intimately, as well. A brief flash of connection blazed between them.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” Molly reached out and touched Creed’s arm. “That must have been hard for you.”

Creed shrugged Molly’s hand from his arm and held out a chair for her. “Not too hard. The incident made me realize that a commitment wasn’t in the cards for someone in my line of work. I’m away too often.”

Caught up in the conversation, despite her best effort to remain immune, Emma asked, “Insurance adjusting keeps you away from home a lot?”

Creed rounded the side of the table and held Emma’s chair for her before he answered. “I investigate special cases. It takes me all over the country and sometimes the world.”

Emma sat, her attention captured by his nearness and the scent of sun, salt and ocean permeating the air around him. “You’re kind of like a government agent then, like the FBI or CIA, only for a commercial company?”

He scooted the chair back across from Emma and folded his long form into it. His moves were smooth and deliberate as he settled, his gaze rising to meet Emma’s. “My job’s not as glamorous.”

Caught off guard by his pointed stare, Emma blurted, “You don’t strike me as an insurance agent.”

“No?” His smile spread across his face and warmed some long dormant areas inside Emma. “What do I strike you as?”

“A bouncer, a cop, or maybe a spy or special agent.” But not an insurance adjuster.

His lips twitched, and his eyes twinkled. “Now, if I was actually a spy or special agent, would I tell you I was?”

Emma’s breath caught. The impact of his sexy smile hit her like a hammer to the chest. “Of course not.”

“And if I did...” His eyes narrowed dangerously.

Molly laughed and finished. “You’d have to kill her?”

Her heartbeat racing as if she’d been running, Emma hated admitting the man affected her far more than he should have.

Then Creed laughed, breaking the tension in the room. “Nothing quite so dramatic. Suffice it to say, I’m one of the good guys, working to keep insurance rates down by finding, reporting and sometimes recovering lost, stolen or damaged property.”

Emma’s eyes narrowed, her focus sharpening on the man. His words rolled off his tongue effortlessly. Maybe a bit too easily. As if practiced.

“You must have been to some exotic places. Sounds interesting.” Molly lifted the ladle, dipped it into the chowder and scooped some of the creamy liquid into a bowl, handing it across to Creed first.

“The job sounds too good to be true,” Emma commented, accepting the next bowl. “How does one luck into such a position?”

Twirling his spoon in his fingers, Creed’s smile slipped. “By getting fired from my previous job for ratting out a bad egg.”

“That doesn’t sound good. Why would you get fired for doing the right thing?”

“The bad egg was my boss.”

“Oh.” Molly’s wide gaze dipped to her chowder.

“I take it he wasn’t happy about being outed.” Emma sipped chowder from her spoon, the rich flavor barely registering. Her attention had been riveted to the man she’d been trying to ignore since he walked on board the dive boat earlier that day.

“No. His supervisor chose to believe him over me.”

The rest of the meal passed in silence.

Emma finished her chowder and immediately stood. “I hate to eat and run, but I need to get back to town.”

Creed stood, dropping his napkin on the table.

Molly pouted. “You can’t stay and chat?”

“No, I need to get some things done before tomorrow.” She really needed to get away from the man who was already occupying too much of her time and space. She reached for her bowl.

Molly raised her hand. “Oh, honey, don’t worry about cleaning up. It’ll give me something to do.”

“Thanks for lunch. As usual, it was great.” Emma hugged Molly and shot a look at Creed. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. If the weather holds out, I’m leaving the dock at eight. Don’t be late.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He popped a sharp salute.

Emma frowned. The man had all the bearing of one who’d seen military service. What had he left out of his hard-luck story?

No. She reminded herself that she wasn’t interested.

“Bye, Molly.” She nodded toward Creed. “Mr. Thomas.” Then she left the dining room, striding across the living area to the door. She made it all the way down the front porch before she heard a voice behind her.

“Ms. Jenkins.”

Her feet came to a halt, and she braced herself before she looked up into the dark brown eyes of Creed Thomas. “Yes, Mr. Thomas.”

“Please, call me Creed.” He smiled, letting the screen door close behind him.

“Creed.” She tipped her head, staring up the steps at him, trying to ignore the way her heart fluttered. “What is it you want?”

“Since I’ll be your diving partner again tomorrow, could you tell me what it is you’re looking for? What is this Anna Maria Officer McGregor mentioned?”

She hesitated. It wasn’t as if the Anna Maria was a huge secret. Anyone who’d grown up in Cape Churn knew the story of how it had disappeared off the coast of Oregon in the late seventeen hundreds. Some thought it was a legend with no substance. “It’s a Spanish galleon that sank over two hundred years ago. I’m getting close to finding it and only have three days left to do it.”

“Why only three days?”

Since her fiancé had died in a car accident while absconding with the funds destined to build the children’s wing onto the small Cape Churn Memorial hospital, Emma had fought to find a way to recoup the loss. As a nurse, she didn’t make the kind of money needed to pay back that large a sum. Not anytime soon. She’d hoped to convince the board of directors not to cancel the wing the community needed so badly until she could come up with a way to repay the amount. Her last hope was the project she’d been working on almost since she’d been old enough to fit into a pair of fins.

So far, she hadn’t found any physical evidence that the Anna Maria had gone down off Cape Churn. But Emma hadn’t given up hope, nor would she as long as she could dive and explore the ocean floor. But the next three days were her last hope of finding it in time to change the hospital board of directors’ minds, thus redeeming herself for introducing Randy to them.

Emma stared out at the ocean, visible between the branches of red alder trees.

“I’m sorry.” Creed descended to the same level as Emma and took her arms in his grasp. “I didn’t know that would be a hard question.”

Her gaze dropped to where his hands rested on her arms. God, she liked how strong they were and how warm and safe they made her feel.

She stiffened, hating that she could so easily have leaned against him and forgotten the burden she bore from her past mistakes. Emma stepped out of his arms. “Let’s make a deal. I’ll tell you about the Anna Maria when you tell me the truth about why you are really here?”

His hands dropped to his sides. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You know I came looking for a boat that went down. We found it.”

“And you’re sticking to your story about being an insurance adjuster?”

For a long moment Creed stared down at her. She could almost see the lie poised on his tongue, as his lips pressed into a tight line. “That’s my story.”

It didn’t explain the vibe she was getting. The man seemed too disciplined, too sure of himself to be just an adjuster. “And the job you were fired from?”

He glanced away, a dark shadow clouding his gaze. “I was a navy SEAL.”

Her head shook side to side. “No wonder you knew so much about diving.” She laughed, a short, sharp burst that lacked any humor. “I feel like you’re playing me for a fool.”

“Never.” He gripped her arms again.

She shook her head. “Oh please, don’t spread the lies thicker.”

“No really. I think you’re a great diver, smart and too pretty for your own good.”

Butterflies fluttered in her belly at his words. He thought she was pretty. “If we’re going to be dive buddies, don’t lie to me.”

He grinned. “Does that mean you’re going to let me dive with you again?”

“You’re a SEAL. You don’t need me to dive.”

“I need Dave’s boat.”

“Why?” She stared up into his eyes. “You found your boat.”

“I need to see if it or anything in it is salvageable.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Why should I help you?”

“Because you know where to look and you know this area. And, admit it, you kind of like me.” He reached out and brushed a thumb across her cheek.

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Her insides warmed. Was she that transparent?

His grin disappeared. “I have a favor to ask.”

He stood close enough that she could smell the salt of the sea on him. She swayed toward him. “Yeah?”

“Could you not tell anyone about finding the yacht?”

She straightened. “Why?”

“I suspect it was carrying stolen or illegal property, and someone might want to recover it.”

“But you want to get to it first.”

“That’s the idea.”

“How do I know you’re not the crook?”

“I guess you’ll just have to trust me.”

“What if I don’t?”

“That would be a shame.” He gripped her arms again, his head dipping close to hers, his mouth within kissing distance. “Then I’d have to steal this kiss.”

“Oh, no, you’re not.” Her heart raced, her breath seizing in her lungs.

“If I’m not stealing it, then you’d be giving it to me freely.”

“Never,” she swore, her gaze firmly fixed on his descending lips.

“Oh, sweetheart, never say never.” He bent to capture her mouth with his, pressing down hard.

She gasped, her teeth parting enough that his tongue slipped through, stroking the length of hers, wiping away all thoughts of lies, subterfuge and treachery. Emma couldn’t think past how incredibly wonderful his lips felt against hers, his chest pressing against her breasts and the hard ridge of his fly nudging her belly.

When he came up for air, he whispered, “You’ll keep our secret?”

She scrambled for a brain cell and what to say next. “Why is it so important?”

“It could get really dangerous if you don’t.”

“For you, or me?”

“Both. Can you pretend I’m on vacation and you’re my dive master, taking me out to dive the reefs?”

“That would be lying.” She couldn’t drag her focus off the way his lips moved to form words.

“I don’t want the danger to come to you. Please,” he said, the word a puff of air tickling her mouth, a soft reminder of how his kiss stirred her.

“Okay,” she whispered, though she suspected the danger was not in the yacht or what it held, but with the man holding her in his arms.

Emma climbed into her Jeep and drove away, her head lost in a fog of lust and longing. When she neared town, her gaze fanned out over the harbor, and she spotted a shiny white yacht resting in the center. She wondered if anything Creed had told her held a grain of truth. It was still early in the summer season for the yachts to start filling the cape, and how coincidental was it that this one showed up the day after the other yacht sank?

For that matter, how likely was a former SEAL like Creed to take a job as an insurance adjuster? Not likely. If not an adjuster, what was he and why had he lied to her?