Blue Moon Dragon Page 3

  Jack pulled away as abruptly as he’d grabbed her. They stared at each other for a long drawn-out moment. She moistened her lips and his dark gaze followed the movement. Game, set and match, bad boy.

  “Right.” He straightened and took a giant step away from her. “We’ve established we can manage a kiss without looking as if we’ve never done it before.” He glared at her, obviously in an attempt to regain control. She wasn’t about to relinquish her advantage, no matter how much he glowered.

  His body was interested in sex.

  Sex with her.

  All she needed to do was push harder until he crumpled.

  Without warning, doubt flitted through her mind, sinking tendrils deep. Could she act with sexual aggression? She quashed the negative thought. Nah, men were easy. And damn if she would turn twenty-six without knowing sexual pleasure with Jack.

  Jack glanced at the diver’s watch on his wrist. “We’d better go to this blasted meeting. While we’re there, I want you to take note of the faces. If there’s anyone you think is familiar or is mentioned in the file, take note and tell me later.”

  Emma nodded. “I’ll just change before we go. I thought I’d check out the pool after the meeting.”

  Jack watched the sway of her hips as she walked over to her bag and rummaged through the contents. She fished out something small enough to hide in her fisted hand, then sashayed into the en suite and closed the door. His dragon released a low growl of need.

  “Fuck.” He rubbed the heels of his hands over his eyes and dragged in a huge breath. He was in trouble and was man—taniwha—enough to admit it. What the hell had happened to the brown sparrow from the office?

  The creak of the door jerked him upright. He turned and experienced an instant roar of approval from the taniwha. This was no brown sparrow standing proudly in front of him. Emma Montrose was one curvy, confident, sexy woman and she scared the crap out of him. Her breasts were poured into an itty-bitty red top that barely contained them. Then there were acres of smooth, pale skin before his gaze hit the brief bikini panties shielding her femininity. With her Marilyn Monroe figure, she reminded him of the curvy film stars of the fifties. Add in a little more height and you got Emma Montrose—a luscious armful of femininity.

  “Is that all you’re wearing?”

  “I have a sarong.” She grabbed a square of red-and-white patterned material from her bag, wrapped it around her hips and tied it with a knot. “I think I’ll buy another from the gift store to take home as a souvenir.”

  “What about a thing for the top? A towel?” He gestured at her breasts in their itty-bitty top. Anything to screen her lush curves from his sight.

  Emma tossed her head. “I’ll get a towel at the pool.”

  “Won’t you get cold?”

  This time, Emma shrugged and her breasts jiggled enough to distract him. “The sun has come out and it looks as though the wind has died. Besides, the brochure says there’s nude bathing—”

  Jack ripped his gaze from her cleavage to stare at her in shock. “Over my dead body.”

  Emma planned to be difficult. The defiant tilt of her chin confirmed her obstinate gene. How had he missed her stubbornness? She’d always scuttled out of his way, giving a creditable impression of a frightened bird.

  This Emma was no sparrow.

  Jack jerked open the door and stood back. “Let’s go.”

  She exited with a sashay, the pert wiggle of her hips drawing his eye. Sweat coated his skin while his cock jumped to high alert. Jack debated his reaction. Curse a blue streak or laugh hysterically? One thing was for sure. They couldn’t share a room without the simmering attraction between them boiling over. Oh, yeah. No wonder George had belly laughed. His boss had probably noticed Emma’s crush. The joke was well and truly on him.

  Jack followed her along the brightly lit corridor and outside.

  The sea, pungent and briny, called its siren song, trying to entice him to shift and slip into the cool waters. He forced himself to concentrate. Instead of facing temptation tonight, he’d wait for Emma to fall asleep, then leave to do some investigating. With luck, he’d be able to check out Mahoney’s office and find something to further their investigation. Or blow the whole case wide open and save his taniwha butt in order for him to hightail it home to safety and his scruffy tomcat.

  Emma paused by a garden full of colorful blooms. She trailed a hand over the lavender border. “Do you prefer to swim in a pool or the sea?”

  “The sea.”

  “You live by the sea, don’t you?”

  “Yeah.”

  She made a small huffing sound. “Do you live by yourself?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No pets?”

  “I have a cat. What’s with the questions?”

  “I’m your significant other. I should know these things. I live by myself but have loads of friends. I hate swimming in the sea—long story, but I almost drowned. I’ll tell you one day. I’m twenty-five years old and my favorite food is hokey pokey ice cream. Oh, and chocolate. I love chocolate.”

  “This is where the meeting’s taking place.” Jack opened the door and ushered her inside, relieved to end the questions. There was one thing worth knowing about a woman and that was how easy she was to bed. As a taniwha, he needed that type of information. He did not need to know her personal likes and dislikes.

  The large meeting space was packed to capacity and most of the women were dressed in similar outfits to Emma’s. In fact, Jack felt distinctly overdressed in his shirt and shorts.

  Jack directed her toward two empty chairs and settled at Emma’s side. He scanned the men and women sitting either side. Damn, crowds made him antsy. They were so bloody happy. Shit, make that horny. He could hear their rapid heartbeats and their naughty whispering. The majority of them looked as if they needed a bedroom.

  He glanced at Emma, and saw the sexy flush on her cheeks, the kiss-swollen lips. Fuck, he didn’t need this distraction. Jack forced his mind back to the job. Given the opportunity tonight, he’d scour the island, check out the private marina and wharf.

  A young woman walked up to a microphone followed by several others. All of them, except one—an older man—were dressed in a uniform of black shorts and blue T-shirts.

  “Good afternoon!” the man shouted.

  Well, damn. Jack sat up straighter on recognizing him once he turned in their direction. Rueben J. Mahoney himself. Interesting. The owner wasn’t always at the resort. His presence made the back of Jack’s neck prickle in the way it did when an investigation was advancing.

  “Welcome to Mahoney Resort. We have a great week planned with lots of naughty fun especially for couples!” A roar of approval greeted Mahoney’s words. “I know you’re anxious to begin your holiday, so I’ll hand you over to Lissa.”

  “Welcome! Sounds as if you’re ready to party.” With a laugh, Lissa—a bubbly redhead—held up her right hand in a bid for silence. “To start the fun, I want you to look under your chairs. Two lucky people should find a red heart sticker.”

  A buzz of chatter rippled free as everyone stood to peer under their chairs.

  “I’ve got one!” Emma shrieked.

  Jack winced. “That figures.”

  “Could the two lucky winners come up here to collect their prizes? We have a bag full of sex toys and games for you to spice up your week.”

  Emma bounded up to the stage with the red sticker clutched in her hand. A man in his fifties followed hot on her heels.

  Jack swallowed a groan when one of hostesses on the stage presented Emma with her prize. Reuben J. Mahoney kissed her on the cheek and tossed her a joking remark. Jack gritted his teeth as he heard the drawl of the man’s voice but not the actual words.

  The desire to curse and shock the hell out of the little old lady and her bright-eyed husband sitting next to them rode Jack like a demon jockey with spurs. Contrarily, the dragon roared with excitement and anticipation. Bit by bit, his strength and determination to
stay the heck out of Emma’s panties was being eroded. Jack sighed and finally accepted the truth.

  He was a dead man, but at least he was gonna die happy.

  Chapter Three

  Emma blinked at him in an innocent manner. “It wasn’t my fault I won the spot prize.”

  Jack suspected she wasn’t the slightest bit sorry. The twinkle in her blue eyes spoke of mischievous pleasure, and her attitude rubbed against his horny taniwha.

  “What are we going to do now?”

  “I am going to do a reconnaissance of the resort. I thought you were going to the pool.”

  Her bright smile dimmed before bursting into life again. The sight flipped his stomach with foreboding. What the hell was she up to now?

  “I think I’ll go to the beach instead of the pool.” She lifted the large package and waved it in front of him. “Not to swim. I can sunbathe and check out my loot.”

  Jack froze and slowly nodded. She couldn’t come to much harm on the beach.

  One hour later, Jack finished his quick whistle-stop tour of the resort. He checked out the gym, the swimming pool with the spa pools and sauna facilities. There was a health spa he’d poked his head inside, then promptly retreated but not fast enough. As an excuse he’d ended up making an appointment for Emma for a massage and something to do with seaweed before he could escape.

  He’d checked out the golf course, the archery area and the petanque pit, where guests played the French version of outdoor bowls. Then, he’d hit one of the walking tracks that skirted the property and led to Stoney Batter—the World War II gun placements and connecting tunnels—if a guest was willing to trek for two hours. He discovered several other paths of various lengths, which led to points of interest, along with tennis courts and numerous water sports available to entertain the guests.

  The private beach stretched the length of the resort golf course. At the end of the beach, a river mouth emptied into the sea, the sand changing to thick river mud. Hundreds of mangrove trees grew in the oozing sludge. They were full of bird life but not very hospitable for humans.

  The resort covered a lot of ground—a fact that made Jack’s life difficult, because it would be easy for a drug ring to operate without detection. He made a mental note to check for day guests.

  Jack turned toward the beach to search for Emma. The sand crunched under his sandals once he stepped off the footpath. The surge and retreat of the waves lulled him as he scanned the vicinity. Halfway along the beach, four males crowded around a beach towel. He caught a low drone as one of them spoke and the answering feminine laugh.

  Emma.

  Jealousy struck hard and without warning. His steps lengthened, and his taniwha growled in displeasure, ready to kick butt.

  “Emma, there you are.” He kept his voice low and even—or tried to. His dragon let loose with a roar that squeezed past his control before he could blink.

  The four men visibly backed away from Emma.

  She sent him a chiding look and pursed her rosebud pink lips. “Darling, this is Carlos, Daniel, Justin and Doug. They wanted to know what I’d won in my prize.”

  Jack made a concerted effort to contain his displeasure, but unsuccessfully since the four men retreated farther from their previous huddle around Emma.

  “We’d better get back to the bar. The girls should have finished in the spa by now,” one of them said after they’d exchanged wary glances.

  “Nice to meet you.” Emma beamed. “And thanks for the hints. I’m sure they’ll come in handy.”

  “See you ’round,” another of the men said.

  Jack managed a brief nod of acknowledgment and waited in broody silence until they left. He yanked his shirt over his head and dropped onto the sand beside her. All it took was one look and he almost drooled. She smelled of coconut lotion and her skin gleamed, drawing his gaze to the red top and her plump breasts.

  “You could have been a bit more polite.”

  “Why? What hints?” If she wanted sex tips, she should ask him.

  “About the best way to use some of the toys I won. Do you have some input for me?”

  Jack went from pissed to boiling hot in seconds flat. The woman had a smart mouth and he was just the man to cure her of the malady. He sprang, pushing her down until she lay full length on her towel. A small oomph escaped her as he covered her, squashing her breasts against his bare chest. He thrust his thigh between her legs to hold her in place, ignoring the squeak of surprise.

  She opened her mouth, probably to complain, but he halted any protests by plundering her lips, sliding his tongue into the moist cavern beyond, just as his taniwha demanded.

  She froze, then softened beneath him, her hands gripping his shoulders to hold him closer. Her fingers slid across his back then lower to cup his arse.

  Jack ripped his mouth away from hers. “What the devil are you doing?”

  “I’ve wanted to cop a feel of your butt for ages,” she confessed a trifle breathlessly. “It’s…ah…very nice.”

  The sensation of her hands sliding over him, even though he wore shorts, sent his libido soaring into overdrive. His cock hardened with painful intensity until it felt as though his shorts were several sizes too small. A groan formed deep in his chest and without conscious thought, he started a little exploration of his own.

  Smooth skin greeted his touch. He trailed his fingertips across her rib cage and higher to cup one breast. The hands on his butt stilled and when their gazes connected, he saw her wide eyes held a trace of shock. Jack traced the edge of her itty-bitty top with a forefinger then dipped beneath the tight fabric to the smooth flesh beneath. Maintaining her gaze, he leaned over and let his tongue trace the same path. Her scent filled his nostrils—the same lavender and roses he’d noticed earlier plus coconut from her suntan lotion—as he licked over the slope of one breast.

  Not enough. Not nearly enough. He peeled the red material from her breasts, revealing taut pink nipples to the afternoon sun and his gaze. Proud and full breasts that enticed and enthralled him.

  She made a tiny sound. Jack couldn’t decide whether it was shock or one of encouragement.

  Then her lips parted and white teeth flashed in a grin full of challenge. “You gonna stop there?” She rolled slightly, reached behind her back, and Jack heard the faint click of her bikini top closure. The red fabric slid down her arms. A shrug made the material fall away, leaving her topless and vulnerable to his gaze.

  A breath hissed through his teeth. He couldn’t have stopped to save himself. His heart thundered and his taniwha stretched and stirred, prodding him to continue. Slowly, he lowered his head to take one pink nipple in his mouth. Jack closed his lips around the taut peak, the need to do everything all at once riding him hard. Like a man who hadn’t eaten for days, he feasted. Savoring the flavor of her—the texture. Gently biting. Tasting her and tormenting himself with her silky skin and sinful curves.

  Dicing with danger.

  Emma cradled his head, her fingers entwining in his hair, urging him onward. He drew hard on her nipple and she bucked beneath him, brushing against his groin.

  “Harder,” she murmured in a dreamy voice. “That feels so good.” Emma had no pretense in her. She was innocence and honesty wrapped in a bow.

  And he wanted to take this to a conclusion. Jack pulled away far enough to scrutinize her face. Her eyes were closed and her lips curled up in a dreamy smile. That smile jerked him back to reality.

  Jack rolled away, trying to ignore the gleam of her nipples, still wet from his mouth. He wasn’t interested in anything more than a roll in the sack. Getting his rocks off.

  “We’d better go.” He stood and handed his shirt to her so she could cover up. “We have a job to do. Mucking about on the beach isn’t getting it done. Besides, we’ve got this dinner thing.”

  * * * * *

  “I can’t believe it,” Jack muttered, glancing at the huge box Emma carried. He rolled his eyes while the taniwha inside stomped a Maori war dance an
d combined it with a few exuberant high kicks, judging by the feel of his bouncing gut. A year’s supply of condoms. “I’ve never met anyone with such dumb luck.”

  “I can’t help it,” Emma said cheerfully without a trace of remorse or embarrassment.

  Hell, no. He’d been the one who’d caught the flack. Lots of jokes and pats on the back—all with the same message. He should eat lots to keep up his strength. Sure, it was all in good fun, but the sly innuendo wore thin after a while.

  Worst of all, Emma’s win had called attention to them. Everyone in the whole damn resort would recognize their faces. It was difficult to skulk around on an investigation when everyone was busy snickering.

  “What are you going to do with a year’s supply of condoms anyway?”

  “Use them,” Emma said sweetly.

  Jack’s fists clenched at his sides, and he felt as if someone had kicked him in the gut. The thought of Emma using the condoms with another man fueled his temper—not that using them with him was a better proposition. This afternoon had been a mistake. He wasn’t going to touch her again. She was commitment through and through. He was free and easy—a different species of fish altogether.

  Jack opened the restaurant door for Emma and stood back as she sashayed into the night air in her short black dress, which showed far too much skin for his liking. Gritting his teeth, he stalked after her. Colored lights lit both sides of the path that wound between lush plantings of native ferns and trees and strategically placed rock carvings.

  In the bush on the far side of the resort, a lone morepork cried. Its mournful call echoed through the still night. Jack heard the rustle of small creatures scurrying for cover from the owl. Waves rolled into the shore interspersed by laughing and shouting from the couples still celebrating in the bar after the gala dinner.

  Even though it was almost one in the morning, he’d have to hang with Emma to give everyone time to settle in for the night. It was either that or hit the bar. He shot a glance at his partner. Temptation shot through him, fast and hard. He wanted her. Perhaps a drink would be the better option.