Page 56 of Grant’s Flame

“Go back to sleep, baby,” I soothed. “But do me a favor and put some clothes on in case something’s going on. I don’t like you naked if someone barges in here. It sounds like someone’s come aboard.”

“What? Aren’t we still really far away from land?”

“Yeah, I think so. I don’t know for sure, though. There are a lot of small islands between here and the coast, but they’re uninhabitable.” I whispered it all, conscious that our conversation could likely be heard directly above.

“So, what the h—” Rio cut her own rasp short as new shouts erupted above. Whoever it was, was very angry. My experience with both our yacht crews, for the journey to Hawaii as well as this leg, had only been pleasant. The aggressive vibe from this overheard exchange did not line up with anything I had experienced.

Shit.

Something wasn’t right.

And damn it, I didn’t feel safe leaving Rio alone in the cabin to go investigate.

“For fuck’s sake, Blaze, I said get dressed like ten minutes ago. I’m serious,” I said tersely when I noticed she still hadn’t moved from the bed.

“I was trying to listen,” she retorted, pointed up toward the ceiling. “And I didn’t want to make noise.” She went to the dresser and yanked a pair of pajama bottoms from one of the drawers, and I crossed the room to her while she tugged them on.

Taking my T-shirt from her trembling fingers, I waited for her to look up at me. “Don’t be scared.”

“I’m not.”

“Then why are you shaking?”

A shrug, fast but telling. “Tired, I guess.”

I narrowed my eyes and helped her slide into my shirt. We both knew that excuse was bullshit, but now wasn’t the time to get into it further. I bent low, kissed the tip of her nose, and then tugged her back to the bed.

“In you go, my love. Let’s worry about all the drama on deck when the sun rises. You wore me out, sex fiend.”

She giggled, and I was positive it was my favorite sound on the entire planet. My own smile started as a grin but kept spreading across my face like a run in a woman’s pantyhose. It went from one side to the other in no time, and there was no explanation of how it had happened.

“All right, Tree,” she said, scooting down into the covers. “What’s the big, cheesy smile about?”

“Oh, that’s all your fault.” I smoothed the blankets up to her chin and then sat on the bed’s side by her shoulder.

Rio gazed up at me with her big brown eyes. In the dim light, her pupils were overtaking her irises, making her look even more like a porcelain doll than usual. So exquisite. So breathtaking. So mine. I couldn’t fight the conclusions anymore. I didn’t even want to.

“My fault?” Her smile broadened too. “How so?”

“It’s so good to hear you giggle. Not just laugh, Rio, but no shit”—I shook my head while grinning again—“giggle. Music to my ears.”

Her grin faded a little, but not in the way that usually made my gut clench. Just the opposite. Despite her sudden seriousness, my senses were lighter.

“Music,” she repeated, as if I’d just spouted a whole poem for her. “Really?”

“Really,” I affirmed, gliding a soft touch between her chin and the blanket. The strange scuffling across the boat had my protective instincts—and the need to show them—cranking to new highs. “Baby, your happiness is more important—”

But I never had a chance to finish the thought.

Our cabin’s door banged open like a shotgun opened fire on the thing from the other side.

The panel flew so wildly, one of the hinges tore from the short screws holding it in place, causing it to hang askew and grind to a halt in the carpet.

“Fuck!” I barked. At the same time, Rio let out a frightened shriek. Instinctively, I shielded her with my body, pressing her back against the bed’s headboard. If someone wanted to harm my woman, they would have to go through me first.

“Twombley! Grant Twombley!”

But it wasn’t her they were after.