Chapter 14

CHAPTER14

Griffin had to get her out of those wet clothes. Mostly to keep Marin from freezing to death, but also for his own sanity. Standing in the sailboat’s salon shivering in that damn translucent T-shirt and clingy shorts, she was a teenage boy’s wet dream. The vision was doing crazy things to his body and Griffin was long past an adolescent. Not only that, but he wasn’t sure they were out of danger yet. He needed to think clearly. And he wouldn’t be able to do that until they were separated by the closed bathroom door.

Digging through the closet where Ben kept the beach towels, Griffin pulled one out and wrapped it around her.

“P-please, tell me th-this is your boat.”

He shook his head. “It belongs to Ben.”

Her shoulders seemed to sag with relief. He almost laughed at her unflagging sense of right and wrong. She was worried about a little B&E when not more than two hours ago, she’d killed a man. Despite the fact that it was in self-defense, the act would likely haunt this sensitive woman for years to come. He hated that she’d been exposed to this nightmare just by being in the wrong place at the wrong time. But he was going to make it right. He had to.

“Sit.” He guided her down to the bench seat. Kneeling down, his numb fingers struggled with the wet laces of her sneakers before he was able to pull one shoe off and then the other. He rubbed her shriveled feet with a towel.

“You need to dry off, too,” she said.

Just touching her skin was helping Griffin to warm up. He decided it was better not to mention that, though. He left her on the bench so he could reach into the small lavatory and turn on the water in the shower.

“There isn’t a separate stall,” he explained. “The whole room serves as the shower. But there’s a removable sprayer with plenty of hot water that you can use to wash yourself off and warm up. The soap and shampoo are on the shelf behind the toilet. Do you have enough strength to do it yourself?”

Please say you do,he silently pleaded. If Griffin had to get her naked, she’d never make it into the shower.

A faint blush spread from her neck to her cheeks. She nodded before standing on unsteady feet and walking into the bathroom.

“Just hand me your clothes and the towel through the door,” he instructed. “I’ll see if I can scare up an extra T-shirt of Ben’s for you to wear.”

When she closed the door, he began rummaging through the drawers in the sleeping cabin at the bow of the boat. He pulled out several pairs of board shorts, a Smashing Pumpkins concert T-shirt, and some old sweat pants of Ben’s that Griffin recognized from their days at West Point. At the sound of the bathroom door opening, he froze, imagining her body naked and pink from the cold water. The visual made him hard and hot. He heard her drop her clothes on the floor before the door closed again. The lock clicked. Griffin couldn’t decide if he was disappointed or insulted. Neither. He had work to do.

After he toed off his sneakers, Griffin peeled off his jeans and his boxer briefs. His T-shirt was next. He dried himself off before pulling on Ben’s sweat pants. Then, he scooped up Marin’s wet clothes and hung them along with his on a clothes line in the aft cabin. The water was still running and, if he was not mistaken, Marin had begun to hum quietly. Griffin dug into the fanny pack he’d bought on the Cherry Blossom. He needn’t have bothered; his phone was completely waterlogged. His service revolver, too.

Griffin then searched the cabinets for food. He found tea bags and immediately filled a saucepan with some water and set it on the stove to boil. In another cabinet, he found a box of Teddy Grahams, better known as Ben’s crack. They’d have to do for tonight.

While the water boiled, Griffin unlocked the cabinet beneath the charting desk and pulled out a burn phone and .35mm pistol Ben always kept onboard.

He powered up the phone and immediately texted Adam. “Great night for stargazing.”

He was loading the gun when the water shut off.

The bathroom door opened a crack. “Did you have any luck finding clothes?” she asked.

“Here.” He placed a dry towel and the T-shirt into her outstretched hand.

The burn phone chirped. “Sounds like a fun date. Meeting friends in Old Town tonight. Will bring coffee in the morning.”

Griffin relaxed a bit knowing his friend had the situation under control. Adam would secure the perimeter of the marina making sure he and Marin were safe on the sailboat tonight.

He responded back. “Grab me a couple of souvenir T-shirts while you’re out tonight, too.”

Marin emerged from the bathroom just as the water began to boil in the pot. When she reached up to adjust the towel she’d wrapped around her head like a turban, the T-shirt rode way up her toned thighs. Griffin’s mouth went dry. He must have made some sound because her free hand tugged the hem of the shirt down. His gaze refocused on the pink skin of her fingers still dotted with dried blood. She’d nearly scrubbed her hand raw trying to wipe off the bloodstains.

“Come here,” he said as he reached above the stove and pulled down the first-aid kit.

She stood before him and Griffin marveled at how Marin could still smell so femininely delicious after bathing with Ben’s obnoxious woodsy soap. He tried to ignore the painful tightening of his junk in the already snug sweat pants. Instead, he dug the petroleum jelly out of the kit.

He held his palm out. “Let me have your hand.”

There was a brief hesitation before she did as he asked. Using his thumb, Griffin gently rubbed the petroleum jelly over the bloodstains.

“Will that work?” She leaned in to inspect what he was doing and Griffin got another whiff of her musky scent.

It would work to get rid of the stains, but sadly, not her memory. “Yeah.” He continued to massage her hand.

Marin sighed contentedly and Griffin felt it all the way in his groin. The chirping of the burn phone made her jump. Griffin snatched it up and looked at the message.

“Your chaperones are in place. If you can’t be good, be careful. B”

Smart asses.Griffin snapped the phone closed as he let out a relieved sigh.

“Are your friends coming to get us?” Marin asked as she wiped off her hands.

“We’re staying put here tonight. There’s a team of agents just outside keeping watch. The guys in the speed boat never saw us. Adam will have the Coast Guard pick them up. We’re safe where we are.”

Marin nodded, but with little enthusiasm.

“I found some tea bags and some cookies.” He gestured to the pot of water on the stove. “We’ll have to make do with that for food.”

“And you found a gun, too, I see,” she added.

“It’s always better to be prepared.”

She wrapped her arms around her midsection. “I just want this to be over,” she whispered.

He reached up and caressed her face. “You were amazing today.”

Marin leaned her cheek into his palm as tears welled up in her eyes. “I killed a man today.”

The ache of her words nearly broke him. “I believe I owe you a thank you for that.” He leaned in and took her mouth in a gentle kiss.

She amazed him every time with how sweet she tasted.

“I need to shower before I stink up the place with the perfume of the Potomac,” he murmured after reluctantly releasing her mouth.

She shot him a guilty look. “I might have used all the hot water.”

That was probably a good thing. A cold shower was just what he needed right now. “I’ll make do.”

* * *

The breeze picked up outside causing the sailboat to sway gently from side to side. Marin rinsed her bra and panties out in the galley sink and hung them back on the line. While sipping on a cup of tea, she finger-dried her hair and braided it to the side. Then she explored Ben’s boat. Anything to keep her mind off the sexy man in the shower who kept doing things to make her like him. Like kissing her.

There were three sleeping berths—two at the back and one up front. All three had double beds with a door that separated them from the main cabin. Griffin was already using one as a makeshift laundry room. The other aft cabin resembled a jail cell without any windows, so Marin wandered to the one at the bow of the boat. This one featured three-foot-long horizontal windows on either side of the bed and a tiny porthole at the front. Marin climbed up onto the bunk and dragged a blanket over her bare legs.

Moonlight illuminated the narrow teak ledge that surrounded the bed and Marin was drawn to the photos Ben had displayed there. Some looked like they were of his family, but one in particular caught her eye. It was a photo of Ben, Adam, and Griffin holding a swordfish. All three men sported wide, carefree grins and a great deal of sexy, tanned skin.

“I actually caught one that was bigger, but Adam let it get away.”

Marin started at the sound of Griffin’s voice. The picture frame slipped from her fingers, landing on the bed. She hadn’t heard the shower stop or the bathroom door open. Yet there was Griffin filling the small doorway to the cabin. And sucking all the air out of it, too.

Her breath caught at the back of her throat at the sight of him. His arms were stretched above him as he gripped the doorframe, giving Marin an eyeful of his sculpted chest, complete with a happy trail of dark hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his skintight sweat pants. Dark stubble still shadowed his jaw making him look like a pirate. The way his eyes were devouring her, she was apparently his booty.

He let out a pained sigh. “You should get some rest while you can.” He brought his arms down to his sides where they hung rigidly.

“When did you last sleep?”

His face grew taut. “I’ll sleep when you’re safe.”

“But you said I was safe right now?”

Griffin dropped his chin to his chest and swore quietly. “You know what I mean, Marin. I’ll sleep when this is over. And it will be over shortly, I promise. Right now, I need to figure out how all the pieces fit together in this case.” His expression became shuttered. “Sleep well.”

With that, he pulled the double doors closed. Apparently, she was safe from her attackers, but not from her pirate bodyguard. Marin sighed heavily and tried to relax. The sound of Griffin’s footsteps as he paced the salon didn’t help. Returning the picture frame to the ledge, she let her fingers wander over the other few objects Ben kept by his bedside. She picked up a Rubik’s Cube, intending to play with it for a while, but it wasn’t a puzzle. Instead it was a hollow box; one filled with condoms.

The foil packets fell out over the bed. Marin scrambled to retrieve them all and put them back into the box.

“Well, we know what Ben uses his sailboat for.” She began to giggle.

It was only a matter of seconds before she was laughing hysterically. The doors flew open and Marin shoved the condoms behind her back.

Griffin glared at her. “What the hell is so funny?”

A snort escaped her throat and Marin doubled over, falling back onto the bed as her body shook with laughter. Griffin crawled over her trying to see what she was hiding. When his hand accidently skimmed her thigh, they froze. His body hovered over hers, its heat warming her. His breath fanning her cheek grew ragged. He wanted her as much as she wanted him; the evidence of his desire lay hard against her stomach.

Marin had entrusted Griffin with her life—several times. Trusting him with her heart was a whole different story, however. But her body wouldn’t settle down. Maybe it was the trauma of the past several days. Or perhaps it was that “something” that continued to hum between them. Either way, she was restless and punchy and she wasn’t going to get any sleep. Not alone, that was for sure. Tonight, she was going to take what she wanted. She lifted her chin and pressed her mouth to his.

“Marin.” Her name left his mouth as a groan.

She took advantage of his parted lips to make her own desires known. Griffin lowered his body into hers, pressing them deeper into the mattress. One of his hands fisted in her braid while the other one skimmed the side of her breast.

“You shouldn’t be distracting me,” he murmured against her neck. “I’m supposed to be your protection detail tonight.”

Marin giggled again, finally showing him the contents of her hand. “I have all the protection we need.”

Griffin buried his face into the mattress beside her head. His body trembled on top of hers. When his gaze met hers again, he was struggling to keep his face serious.

“Does this mean you’re not mad at me anymore?” he asked.

“Oh, no, I still am,” she replied solemnly. “Very mad at you. But I may be dead tomorrow; so I might as well take advantage of you while I have the chance.”

He cupped her face between both his hands. “You’re not going to die tomorrow or any day after that. I won’t let anything happen to you, Marin.”

“Anything could happen, Griffin. All we have is right here and right now. And I want you. Right now.”

His face relaxed into a resigned smile. Marin reached up to brush his hair back.

“Two rules,” he stated.

Her hand stilled. “Rules? You have rules?”

“Rule one. At no point during the night may you refer to me as ‘sweet cheeks.’”

She stifled the giggle that bubbled up. “And rule number two?”

“I can’t do this if you’re wearing Ben’s T-shirt.” He looked so serious. “I’ll just keep imagining his ugly mug in the cabin watching us.”

“I thought it was implied that I’d be naked,” she teased. “But given that I’m already well acquainted with your performance issues, I’ll happily comply with both your rules.”

Griffin stalked off the bed and Marin worried she might have pushed him too far. But then he was stripping out of his sweat pants and she swallowed a moan at the sight of him flaunting his arousal.

“I told you this once, I don’t have performance issues. But I guess you won’t be happy without a demonstration, will you?” He gestured to the T-shirt. “Rule number two.”

Marin quickly shimmied out of Ben’s shirt and tossed it out the door. She shivered at the wicked grin on Griffin’s face. He grabbed her ankles and dragged her body to the end of the bed so her feet dangled off. Spreading her knees wide, he stepped between them.

Marin’s body quivered. “Griffin, I—”

“Hush,” he commanded as he knelt down between her legs. “Or there will be a rule number three.”

She lifted her head to argue with him, but he was studying her body with such undisguised hunger she flopped back down in embarrassment.

“I’ve told you this before, but I don’t think you can hear it enough,” he murmured. “You’re beautiful, Marin Chevalier. Damn gorgeous, in fact. Do you know that?”

Marin hoped he didn’t expect an answer because her throat had become choked up again. She squeezed her eyes shut to stem the tears that threatened. His lips found the inside of her thigh and she bucked off the bed when his rough beard abraded the sensitive skin there.

He chuckled softly. “You’re very tense. Before we get to the demonstration of my sexual proficiency, I think I might need to let you fly solo.”

With that, his mouth moved to her core. Marin moaned loudly as she fisted her hands in the sheets. She had no argument with the proficiency—she would call it artistry—of his tongue. Within minutes, she was soaring over the edge panting his name.

Griffin kissed his way up her torso all the while repositioning her on the bed. Marin’s body grew warmer and more agitated with every touch of his lips. She reached for his shoulders and dug her fingernails into them.

“Please,” she pleaded.

His lips sealed around her nipple and her body arched against his mouth. She twined her fingers through his hair, holding his head to her breast. Griffin’s finger slid inside her and she squirmed.

“No,” she whimpered. “I want you inside me.”

He lifted his mouth from her breast. “For someone who doubted my abilities, you’re very impatient.”

But he moved further up her body so his erection was poised at her entrance. Marin couldn’t make out his eyes in the moonlight, but his lips were turned up in a sly grin. The sound of the foil packet ripping filled the small berth. Marin noticed his fingers shook slightly when he sheathed himself. Then, Griffin slid slowly inside her. She sighed with each gentle push.

When he’d filled her to the hilt, his lids drifted closed as he paused to seemingly savor the moment. It was costing him to take his time. That much was evident by the tightness of his expression.

“Your equipment seems to be adequate,” she remarked.

His eyes snapped open. “I haven’t had any complaints yet.”

Marin didn’t like the feelings the thought of him being with other women brought on. She squeezed her muscles around him. “If you don’t hurry up, I might complain.”

“Do you like it when people rush you in the kitchen?” he demanded.

Marin threw back her head and laughed until Griffin captured her mouth in a hot, glorious kiss that scattered her wits. He began to move inside her and the gentle rocking of the boat heightened the pleasure of his movements. Their tongues dueled; he slid in and out of her, moving in time with the current. She moaned into his mouth as the fever began to build inside her again.

Griffin’s pace never wavered and Marin became frantic for more. She freed her legs from beneath his to wrap them around his waist. The change in position brought more friction where she needed it. Panting now, she scratched her fingers down his back impatiently. He nipped at her mouth, but he didn’t hurry his cadence. A powerful wave of pleasure teased Marin, but she couldn’t seem to reach it.

“Griffin!” she pleaded.

He brought his forehead down to hers. “Is this what you want, Marin?” He shifted his position slightly and moved within her using more energy. Marin shattered beneath a thousand points of light, her body convulsing in places she didn’t know existed. She was gasping for air beneath closed eyes when she realized he’d stilled above her.

When she lifted her lids, she was met by Griffin’s hot, triumphant look. She would have rolled her eyes at him had her body not been so sated. With a groan, he began to move, driving into her with such intensity that she came again. This time, Griffin followed her over the edge, sighing her name next to her ear when he collapsed on top of her.

* * *

“Mmm.” Griffin scraped his spoon against the plastic bowl. “I never knew oatmeal could taste that good.”

He glanced up as Marin sashayed through the salon, Ben’s T-shirt riding up her thighs slightly.

“All it takes is some doctoring up,” she explained. “I found some chocolate in one of the drawers. And I chopped up the Teddy Grahams for the cinnamon topping.”

“You know you should really think about becoming a chef,” he teased.

She stuck her tongue out at him playfully. But then she grew quiet as she washed the pot at the sink.

“Hey.” Griffin got to his feet and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind.

He inhaled the musky smell of sex that clung to her skin and the need to have her again gnawed at him. But as much as he wanted a round two, not to mention a round three, something was troubling her.

He hoped like hell it wasn’t regret. “What’s wrong?”

She sloshed the water around the sink. “I love being the pastry chef at the White House.”

“And?”

“And I feel like I’m never going to be able to resume my normal life again.”

He brushed his lips along her neck. “Nonsense. I told you this will all be over soon.”

Marin pulled out of his embrace. “But I don’t even know what this is.” Tears welled in her eyes.

Griffin took the pot from her hands and guided her over to the table. “Sit,” he commanded.

When she did, he picked up the dish towel and began drying the pot. “What do you want to know?”

“You and Agent Morgan said the creepy guy I saw on the stairs was after me. But who were those guys who attacked us today?” She swallowed roughly. “The one I killed.”

Sighing, Griffin put the pot away and sat down beside her. “They were speaking Greek. If I had to guess, they’re part of a counterfeiting ring.”

“Counterfeiting ring? How do they fit into this? I thought you were investigating art thieves?”

“I work for the Secret Service’s Criminal Investigations Division. We concentrate on ferreting out counterfeit bills within the US monetary system. And the crooks who print them. Most people don’t realize that was the agency’s original mission when it was created. For the past couple of years, I’ve been working out of the New York office taking down the money makers.”

“You went there after you left the President’s protective detail?”

Griffin tensed at her question. He wondered how much she knew. Given her friendship with the First Lady and the head housekeeper at the House, he guessed she knew the entire sordid story. He nodded.

“And you work with Agent Morgan?”

He tried not to flinch at Leslie’s name. The last thing Griffin wanted to do was to discuss his and Leslie’s colleagues-with-benefits relationship with Marin. Even if it was in the past. “On this case, yes. She heads up the FBI task force. We’ve been trying to track down a ring of counterfeiters responsible for flooding the US with fake hundred dollar bills. They have ties to a crime family in Greece.”

“But they steal art, too?”

Griffin scrubbed a hand down his face. “Apparently. This gang’s claim to fame is a person known as The Artist. He makes the bills look unbelievably realistic. We had no idea The Artist was forging art until we stumbled on the originals from the White House.”

“Agent Morgan said that your only clue was a White House dish towel. And that led you to me. Why?”

Was it his imagination or was she getting defensive? He decided she deserved the truth.

“Several of the money laundering drops occurred at Chevalier hotels.”

Marin’s mouth dropped open. “What? Does my grandfather know that? My brother Sebastian is going to freak out.”

“We were never able to link anyone at the hotels to the counterfeiters, Marin. It was all circumstantial as far as we can tell.”

She stood up abruptly. “Then if everything was circumstantial, why was I the prime suspect?”

Griffin didn’t have a ready answer to offer her. At least one that he wanted to admit. After a few moments of charged silence, she turned for the front cabin with a huff.

“Wait.” He wrapped his fingers around her wrist before she could storm past him. Sighing heavily, he tugged her onto his lap. “I told you before, I was attracted to you the moment I saw you,” he admitted. “I concentrated on you as a suspect because I wanted to be near you. Plain and simple. And that’s definitely not the way we’re trained to conduct an investigation.”

“Why did you leave me that night?” she whispered.

Jesus, she wanted her pound of flesh.

He swallowed roughly. “Because you scare the hell out of me, Marin. This scares the hell out of me.”

Her mouth curled up into a contented smile as her body relaxed into his. “Because I’m irresistible?”

“Something like that,” he replied.

“Well, you’re pretty irresistible, too, you know.” Her hand traced a path down his bare stomach.

Griffin’s body shot to attention. “Is that so?”

“Mmm.”

His chest seemed to be occupying her entire focus. When she leaned in to draw her tongue over his nipple, Griffin nearly exploded.

“Back to the bedroom. Now.”

With a sensuous laugh, she straddled him instead, pressing his body into the banquette seat. “Oh, no you don’t. This time, we’re playing by my rules.”

She reached into his pocket, presumably to grab a condom, but she lingered a minute to stroke him. Griffin hissed in frustration when she squeezed his balls.

“Once again you’re overdressed, Agent Keller.”

Griffin wasted no time shucking his sweat pants down to his knees and kicking them the rest of the way off. She tore open the condom and reached to put it on him.

“Rule number two,” he protested.

Marin laughed again before stripping out of Ben’s T-shirt.

“Better?” she asked.

He was eye level with her amazing breasts. “Hell, yeah.”

As she rolled the condom on him, Griffin reached up and undid her braid, combing his fingers through her silky hair. She leaned forward and kissed him, enclosing them in a curtain of her hair. He let her have her way with the kiss for a moment before lust propelled him to take over. The heat built between them as their kisses grew more frantic. Reaching down between their slick bodies, Marin guided him to her entrance. It took every ounce of strength he had not to explode when she sank down on him. His chest constricted and his mind went fuzzy from the sheer pleasure of her body closing around him.

“This isn’t scary,” she said. “This is the only thing during these past few days that’s felt real. And perfect.”

She began to move on him and all coherent thought deserted Griffin. All but a wisp of an idea that perhaps Marin was right.