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As her climax burst through her, she let go of him and slumped forward, bracing her hands against the mattress on either side of his head.

  The contractions subsiding, she dipped her head and gave him a long, hot, amazing kiss.

  “Carr,” she said like a litany when they parted.

  He smoothed the curtain of her silky hair off her face. “Finally.”

  Her head cocked, she smiled slightly. “There’s more, though, right?”

  His erection pulsed. “I certainly hope so.”

  Leaning back, she straddled his hips and ripped open his shirt, buttons pinging against the walls. The rest of their clothes followed in a flurry of greed and anticipation.

  Naked, condom securely in place, Carr rolled on top of her, his hands loving every curve and inch of exposed skin. He fit between her legs, and she wrapped them around him, inviting him into her warmth.

  As he surged inside, it seemed he’d waited an eternity to be part of her. Pleasure skated down his spine, even as the urgency to move, to satisfy the clawing need deep in his gut became overwhelming.

  Fancy words deserted him. Nothing but the slap of their bodies against each other mattered. Chasing fulfillment. Searching for solace.

  Primal, human and instinctive, they knew they had to reach the pinnacle to survive. Maybe tenderness would come later. Maybe not. Their chemistry was as intense as she was distinctly unpredictable.

  But as a man who thrived on control, he gloried in losing it when she gripped him hard with her hips, rolled him to his back and let their bodies explode.

  MALINA, her body slick with sweat and satisfaction, slid weakly off Carr’s body.

  Every nerve tingled, vibrated…shimmered. Her skin felt alive as it never had before. She wanted to hold the feelings before they slipped away. For once, she wanted vulnerability and defensiveness to last instead of fighting to banish them, instead of considering them the highest form of weaknesses.

  She did trust him, even if she might never be able to tell him.

  The gentle rock of the waves beneath the boat lulled her as her eyelids drifted closed, but a nibble on her fingers brought her back to awareness.

  Of what she’d done. What she’d risked. What she still longed for.

  “Are you still with me?” he asked, his voice husky.

  “Barely.” She knew she needed to find her clothes and leave. She couldn’t seem to come up with a logical reason to move, though her instincts demanded she do so. “I’ll come back around,” she managed to say as she rolled to her back.

  He spooned his body along her side, sliding his thigh over hers, letting his fingers drift up and down her bare stomach.

  Shivers raced through her, reigniting desire.

  His lips brushed her shoulder. “Soon?”

  A smile bloomed from deep within. She looked over at him, into the dark brown of his eyes, letting her gaze drift over the jet-black waves of hair that surrounded his remarkable face. He was beautiful. “You’re insatiable,” she said instead.

  “Is that a crime?”

  “I’ll check my regulations manual and get back to you.”

  “I look forward to the consultation.”

  “That’s not going to be now, is it?”

  “I’m a lawyer. We get paid to talk. It’s instinctive.”

  “And that is the most succinct speech you’ve ever made.”

  “You’ve inspired me.”

  Something about the tenderness in his tone, which hadn’t been there before, put her on edge. “Look, this isn’t going to be a thing, right?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “A thing?”

  She sat up, wishing she could pull a blanket over herself but not wanting him to know she was uncomfortable. “I mean, we’re just blowing off steam, aren’t we? This case is stressful. You’re involved in an atypical situation. It’s only natural we’d come together in a way that’s more than a professional bond.”

  “And that’s the longest speech I’ve ever heard you give,” he said lightly, though he ceased his rhythmic strokes against her belly. Rising, he snagged his pants from the floor and stepped into them. “Am I correct in assuming you’re committed to focusing all your energy on this case?”

  What was this about? “You are.”

  “And aren’t you concerned for your job if anyone finds out about us?”

  She shrugged. “I guess. But then I don’t expect you to go shouting about it all over the island or the Bureau.”

  “You’re taking a risk being with me,” he insisted.

  Screw being uncomfortable. Now she was pissed, though mostly at herself.

  She rolled off the bed and grabbed the first thing she found on the floor—which turned out to be his white dress shirt—and shoved her arms into the sleeves. “Yeah, I suppose I am.”

  “And your work is your life.”

  Facing him, she crossed her arms over her chest. “And so?”

  “So logic would dictate that I mean something to you beyond someone to casually blow off steam with.”

  She heard hurt beneath the insult, which was exactly what she didn’t want. This was supposed to be simple—chemistry plus hot guy times proximity equals sizzling night. Why was her life so damn complicated these days?

  She wanted to run, as she never did, had never even been tempted to do. “As nice as this was, I really should go.”

  He grabbed her wrist and held her gently but firmly in place. “This might be a great many things, but nice isn’t in the top fifty.”

  6

  NODDING, Malina sat on the bed.

  It was ridiculous to deny that sleeping with a colleague on a case was out of character. Carr was certainly too intelligent to buy that excuse.

  “My life seems destined to be overly convoluted at the moment,” she said. “And my work really is my life.”

  “You still have a right to be away from the job.” He sat beside her. “I just want to be part of it. I want more than a one-night lay. Don’t you?”

  Hadn’t she sworn to keep focused on her future? To toe the Bureau line and get her career back on track? And hadn’t her mother shared her story of giving up her dreams of going to Paris to study art so she could stay in Kauai to run the family surf shop? Hadn’t she vowed, to herself and her mother, that she would consider her decisions carefully and not compromise her goals?

  But then nothing and no one had ever tempted her like Carr Hamilton.

  “Yeah,” she found herself saying. “I guess I do.” She smiled feebly. “I’d like to hang on to you for at least a week.”

  Thankfully, he returned her smile. “That long, huh?”

  “I’m not much of a long-term woman.”

  An odd look crossed his face. He reached out and very gently tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “That’s too bad. I’m a long-term man.”

  “But you’ll settle for the rest of the night?”

  He leaned toward her, his lips nearly touching hers. “For now.”

  She curled her hand around his neck, bringing him closer, giving over to the arousal he inspired.

  Did she even have a choice in resisting him?

  No matter how logically she tried to dismiss her need for him, the hunger refused to abate.

  Frankly, she’d always thought the adage about not being able to help who you were attracted to was a bunch of romantic nonsense. You either chose to give in to your urges or not.

  But as his mouth moved over hers, his tongue enticing and awakening every nerve ending in her body, she truly understood irresistibility for the first time.

  Pressing her back into the mattress, he parted the shirt she wore—his shirt—cupping her breasts in his palms, his thumbs gliding over her distended nipples. She closed her eyes, absorbing the pleasure of him. A need she’d never felt with any other man washed over her, pulling her further under the spell of their desire.

  She liked being surrounded by him. His clothes on her back; his body warm, bare chest brushing her front. As she wrapped her l
egs around him, the bulge of his erection met the heat between her thighs. He moaned against her lips, and she angled her hips, deepening the contact.

  Even through the cloth of his pants, she could feel him pulse with raw lust, and yet, there was something inherently wonderful about holding back, taking time to let the hunger grow.

  He drew his mouth down the side of her neck, leaving tingles in his wake. He moved slowly across her collarbone, sliding the tip of his tongue down, down until he reached her nipple. With barely a flick, he sent pleasure racing along her spine. She buried her fingers in his thick, silky hair, holding him against her as her heart rushed to keep up with the need building low in her belly.

  Seeming to understand, he rocked his hips against hers. The friction sent a burst of pleasure through her. Still, she craved more.

  She was a slave to his touch, and yet she knew he’d let her assert control in a heartbeat. There was comfort in that realization, deepening the bond she knew they already shared.

  Briefly, he rolled away to ease out of his pants and take care of protection while she shrugged out of his shirt.

  She sighed as his body rose over hers, as his lips glided across her cheek.

  She welcomed him inside with a thrill of unfamiliar emotions and a flood of anticipation. He drew her arms over her head, his hands linking with hers as he moved in an easy rhythm, as if he could endlessly ride the waves of desire.

  The tenderness in his touch was seductive, maybe even more so than the wild, aching climax from before.

  As stimulating as talking to him could be, he didn’t need words now. Breathy sighs and moans of longing and bliss were easy to read and respond to. As the pleasure rose and she chased fulfillment, she acknowledged she’d miscalculated. A week wouldn’t be enough. Would a month? A year?

  She gasped as she came, the powerful pulses draining her body and emptying her thoughts. Squeezing her hands, he followed, and she strained to hold on to the euphoria, the connection that seemed, at the moment, unbreakable.

  When his breathing returned to a calmer rhythm, he rolled to his side and pulled her back against him. She shut out all questions and doubts, dragged the blanket on top of them and let sleep take her.

  “OH, HELL, that’s my cell phone.”

  Crawling to the end of the bed, Malina pawed through the heap of discarded clothes. She winced when she saw the number on the screen. “Malina Blair.”

  “Agent Blair, it’s Sam Clairmont.”

  Double hell. It wasn’t just the office calling, it was the boss. “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m interested in the progress of your case. Could you stop by the office later today and give me an update?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “In fact, it’s curious you’re not already here. You’ve worked every Saturday since you arrived.”

  The quiet, casual tone didn’t fool her for a second. “Yes, sir. I know. I’ll be there.”

  Heart pounding, she flipped the phone closed.

  “Problem?”

  Malina glanced back at Carr, who’d sat up, his broad, bare chest exposed above the white sheet. “He knows.”

  “The SAC? About what?”

  “About us.” Naked, she leaped from the bed, then pulled on her dress from the night before. Damn. She’d have to go home and change first. “I gotta go.”

  “I’ll take you.”

  After scooping her knife sheath off the floor, she glared at him. “I can handle this.”

  “I’m sure you can. I meant I’ll take you to your car—it’s still at my house.”

  “Right. Thanks.”

  He stepped into his pants, and she fought to ignore the fresh onslaught of lust. He did have the most amazing body. “And Sam can’t possibly know about us. Don’t let that silent stare of his get to you.”

  She forced herself back to the problem at hand—her supposedly all-important job. “He knows something’s up.”

  “Admit nothing.”

  She glanced around, looking for the blond wig. “Thanks, Counselor.” She didn’t feel guilty about last night, she assured herself as she located the wig under the bed and stuffed it into her bag. What she did after working hours was nobody’s business but her own.

  Was she compromising her case by sleeping with Carr? Maybe. He was a witness. He could someday be called upon to testify in court.

  And yet he was also part of the team, even if he wasn’t an agent. The SAC knew she’d used Carr’s connections—as well as the man himself—to work undercover at the party.

  However, she didn’t think he’d necessarily approve of the undercover work she’d done after the party.

  Unfortunately, Carr was right—this thing between them was too powerful to deny. She wanted him enough to risk professional censure. There was no point pretending their relationship didn’t matter a great deal.

  She fastened her knife in its sheath to her thigh, then tugged her dress down to cover it.

  Carr pulled the wig from her bag and handed it to her. “In case somebody’s watching us.”

  “Right.”

  She should have thought of that herself. And she would have…eventually.

  She needed coffee and a blisteringly hot shower before she faced the SAC.

  After setting the wig, she headed through the cabin and outside. It was breezier and cooler than the day before, and Carr laid a jacket around her shoulders as he joined her on the dock.

  She thanked him, and he smiled, looking a little distracted, as if he, too, was lost in thought about the turn their relationship had taken. He’d zipped up a black leather jacket over his own chest. No doubt the now buttonless shirt he’d worn yesterday would have been a bit exposing.

  They didn’t talk on the drive to his house, but Malina didn’t find the silence uncomfortable. Carr might be able to discourse with the best of them, but he apparently knew the value of quiet as well.

  As a woman who lived alone, had few female friends and worked in a male-dominated industry, she appreciated his restraint, or maybe, knowing Carr’s successful record in court, his instinctive ability to read his audience.

  “Would you come in a minute?” he asked as he helped her from the car.

  “I still have to go home and shower and change.”

  “Please? I have something I’d like to give you in private.”

  She narrowed her eyes in suspicion, but nodded, then followed him inside. Truthfully, she was afraid of going back inside his spectacular house.

  She might never want to leave.

  As soon as she stepped across the threshold, she turned to him. “So?”

  From his jacket pocket, he pulled out a plastic Baggie, which he handed to her. Inside the Baggie was a fingerprint card.

  “They’re Simon’s,” Carr said before she could ask. “He was very careful to hold on to the same glass all night. Did you notice?”

  “I did.” And she’d cursed the fact that she had no cause for a search warrant on Mr. Mystery and his floating cocktail party.

  “I slipped into the master suite and lifted these off his hairbrush.”

  “You—” She ground her back teeth against the spurt of annoyance. “You could have been caught.”

  “But I merely wanted the full tour. I’m thinking of buying a similar boat myself.”

  She hated to admit he was so damn smooth, he’d probably pull off such a convenient excuse. She slapped the card against her palm. “This is also not admissible, Counselor.” In fact, she was more than surprised he’d cast aside so many investigative rules—ones he had to be aware of.

  “It doesn’t have to be. I’m sure you’re clever enough to get a warrant for prints and/or DNA if you need them later. Besides, I’m just an innocent and concerned civilian, offering my assistance to the overworked members of law enforcement.”

  “You think a judge and/or jury will buy that?”

  “I can practically guarantee it.” He grinned. “In the meantime, wouldn’t it be interesting to see if Simon Ell
erby is who he says he is.”

  “Have I mentioned this is my case?”

  “Several times.”

  She glanced down at the card, then back at him. He’d done what she couldn’t—or rather wouldn’t—do. She was sticking hard and fast to the rules these days.

  As unfamiliar as that idea was.

  “Thank you,” she said simply, tucking the prints in her bag.

  “Good. I want payment.”

  FOR THE FIRST TIME since he’d met her, Carr knew he’d caught her completely by surprise.

  Her eyes lit like blue flames. “No kidding. Payment?”

  “Definitely.” Before she could give in to the obvious urge to slug him, he grabbed her by her waist and pulled her against him.

  He kissed her with an effort to remind her of what they’d shared and all that he wanted beyond the now.

  Her body molded to his, her heat infused his veins.

  Dear heaven, he wanted her, and the idea that she didn’t want him as much was torture. He’d have to find a way to reach her, to convince her that a successful career didn’t always lead to a happy life. That giving up everything for one thing was too great a sacrifice.

  As he knew all too well.

  Aware of her other obligations, he pulled back before he wanted to, but he kept his hand against her cheek, knowing she’d retreat quickly.

  She knocked his hand aside as she stepped back. “A kiss as payment?”

  “Sure. I have money.”

  When she sighed, he closed the distance between them. “Take your evidence, talk to Sam, then come back here for dinner.”

  She looked skeptical. “You cook?”

  “I’ll make sure dinner is available,” he clarified. “Come on. I’ll be waiting all afternoon, wondering what you get from the print.”

  “Your larcenous print, you mean.”

  “Technically, larceny is taking something with the intent of depriving the victim of that item permanently. Simon still has possession of his fingerprints.”

  Saying nothing, she crossed her arms over her chest.

  He was so crazy about that slightly annoyed, secretly amused look, he nodded. “Yes, that print.”

  Was he actually stooping to using the case as an excuse to see her?