Blue Moon Dragon Page 8

  They walked over to the receptionist’s desk, and Emma scanned the gym. There were five, no, six beefy young men wearing the resort’s uniform. Not a scrawny specimen among them. Even the two women employees she saw bore impressive muscles but it might be a coincidence. Jeesh, how was she going to discover the truth? Perhaps they needed to check the premises during the middle of the night when no one was around. Maybe the offices and places that were off-limits to guests.

  “Jamie can do a fitness test, but she’ll be another five minutes since she’s with a client.”

  “That’s fine,” Emma said.

  “Come with me, and I’ll show you where to wait.”

  Emma followed her guide through a narrow corridor she hadn’t noticed earlier. They passed two offices then came to a third room. Her guide opened the door and gestured Emma inside.

  There were charts on the wall with illustrations depicting people doing different warm-up exercises.

  “See if you can follow the diagrams and do a few stretches while you’re waiting for Jamie. She won’t be long.”

  “Thanks for the tour.” Emma smiled and fluttered her lashes, keeping up the image of witless to the end.

  Her guide left, leaving the door slightly ajar. Emma debated if five minutes would be long enough to explore the offices next door and decided to risk detection. She was halfway out the door when she heard several masculine voices in the office close to where she stood. Bother. Emma dithered, wondering what to do.

  Raucous laughter suddenly filled the air.

  “The couple in room 243?”

  Emma stiffened. Shit, were they under investigation? She edged out, flattening against the beige walls so she could eavesdrop.

  “Oh, yeah,” a loud voice said. “They rut like rabbits all night long.”

  Emma’s mouth dropped open. Rabbits? Someone had heard them? How mortifying!

  “What do they look like?”

  “Both tall. The guy looks dangerous. Not the sort to meet in a blind alley on a dark night.”

  “What about his partner?”

  “A bit big for my tastes.”

  “What are you talking about, dickhead? Her ass is fuckable,” a third person said. “I’d ram one right up her anytime.”

  Emma’s jaw sagged so much it was a wonder it didn’t hit the ground. These men had not only heard them, they’d watched them as well. But how? Why? Emma groped for understanding.

  “How’s the take for this couple?”

  “Through the bloody roof. We’ve earned more in three days than we made for the whole of last week.”

  People paid to watch her and Jack have sex? That was disgusting. Heat flooded her body followed closely by anger. Making love to Jack was private, dammit. Strictly because that was what Emma was doing—laying out her heart. The idea of other people watching…

  “They’re filming tonight and intend to release it as an amateur movie. It should win a prize for sure as well as make a ton of money.”

  Emma felt her face turn scarlet. Her teeth gritted so hard they were in danger of cracking. A tic burst into life in her jaw.

  They were not going to get away with their home movies.

  Chapter Six

  Footsteps at the far end of the passage galvanized Emma to action. She whipped back inside, easing the door shut behind her. Oh, boy. She had to get a grip. Warming up. That was what she was meant to be doing.

  Emma sprinted over to the closest poster on the wall, rapidly read the instructions and attempted to emulate them. The muscles at the back of her thigh groaned in protest, sending a wave of jagged pain the length of her leg. She winced and eased up on the stretch. Cripes, if she’d known sex with Jack would be so strenuous, she would’ve gone into training first.

  “Though why you’re worrying when Jack has told you there’s not going to be any sex once we’re off the island,” she muttered. Thinking of sex brought her back to the main problem.

  Movies.

  Of her and Jack.

  Naked.

  The door flew open and a tall redhead stepped inside. “Oh, good. You’re warming up already. Excellent.”

  Oh, she was warming up all right, and busy thinking of payback.

  “You look as if you’re ready. I’ll weigh you, take some muscle-to-fat ratios then we’ll test your existing level of fitness. But first, I’ll get you to fill in this form with your medical history.”

  Emma stopped torturing her limbs and accepted the paper and pen from the woman.

  Three quarters of an hour later, she teetered from the room on weak, rubbery legs. Jamie was a sadist.

  She slowed as she passed the offices, but the men had gone so she had no way of identifying them. Though she’d recognize their slimy voices if she heard them again. That was for sure.

  The thought of putting them in their place reinvigorated her and she picked up the pace from a teeter to a stomp. At reception, she stopped to learn the gym hours. A little recovery time wouldn’t go astray. She’d come back later to do her first training session and ask more questions. Right now, she’d find Jack and let him know of her discovery.

  Jack found her first. As she strode along the beach, a hand curled around her upper arm, jerking her to a stop. She whirled, ready to defend herself then relaxed. “Jack.” She straightened, tossing her head as his dark glower hit her. At least, she assumed he was glaring because the line of his mouth was straight and firm. Difficult to confirm since he wore sunglasses.

  “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

  “I didn’t know you cared,” Emma said sweetly. No mistaking her tone for anything but snide and bitchy. Despite looking for him, he wasn’t forgiven for blowing hot and cold. Jeesh, that sort of behavior was part of a woman’s agenda. Men were supposed to be black and white, not shades of marbled gray.

  “I was worried.” He took a closer look at her face and had the effrontery to stroke a finger across her flushed cheek. “What’s wrong?”

  Emma jerked from his touch and stalked farther along the beach before dropping onto a clean patch of sand. With legs outstretched, she stared out to sea. She felt rather than saw Jack sit at her side. He could’ve put a shirt on, dammit.

  “I’ve been at the gym. I wanted to follow up on something I heard from the bartender yesterday. While I was there, I overheard some men talking. Our room is bugged.” She turned to Jack, feeling the full thrust of anger and indignation and loss of privacy sweep through her again. “They’re filming us having sex. They’re going to sell it on the Internet.”

  The concern faded from Jack’s face and he suddenly seemed more alert. Dangerous and in private investigator mode. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking because of the glasses shielding his gaze. Bother the man and his rigid control. Just for once, she’d like to see him lose his cool.

  “Aren’t you going to say anything? Frankly, I’m pissed. What are we going to do about it?”

  “We aren’t going to do anything.”

  “What?” Her screech of outrage scared a foraging seagull. It took off into the air with a startled cry. “You knew? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t think you’d be able to keep up the act if you knew we were under surveillance.”

  Right. This just kept getting better and better. “You could have given me the benefit of the doubt.”

  “I wasn’t sure if they were onto us or not. It seemed better to ignore them and watch developments.”

  “And?” She didn’t bother to hide her testiness.

  Jack rolled toward Emma and tugged at a short springy curl just behind her ear. She was ready to blast him but he spoke first. “Someone is watching us right now.”

  Jack watched her as he fingered another curl. He’d never seen her in this mood before—curt, irritable. Plain bitchy. He liked it.

  “What are you doing?”

  “We’re going to give another show for our audience. Let’s see how your acting skills shape up.” Her blu
e eyes narrowed, making him want to laugh. “I dare you.”

  She landed on top of him before he could blink, knocking the air from his lungs. Her leg slid between his, her thigh riding high against his groin. Instantly his cock lengthened, and he knew by the gleam in her eyes she recognized her effect on him.

  “I was thinking of a kiss.” But his body had other ideas.

  “Well, what’s stopping you? Don’t say the audience is putting you off,” she mocked.

  Jack glanced up and down the beach. Empty, apart from the guy over on the far balcony. And he wouldn’t see them either if they moved closer to the gnarled pohutukawa tree a few feet away. The sun streamed from directly overhead, and Jack didn’t need to check his watch to confirm the time. Almost midday.

  Cupping her face in his hands, he savored the buzz of his waking taniwha simmering beneath his skin. “Nothing stopping me at all.”

  He closed the distance between them so her breasts brushed his naked chest. Surprised she was even talking to him, let alone letting him get this close after this morning, Jack wasn’t about to shrink from her challenge. He covered her lips and kissed her, really kissed her, thrusting his tongue deep into her mouth.

  “Get a room, why doncha,” a loud masculine voice hollered. He followed up his suggestion with a shrill whistle.

  A feminine giggle joined his sniggers.

  Where the hell had he come from? Jack lifted his head, his gaze touching on her lips. They were pink. Swollen. And he enjoyed caressing them more than he should. “Guess we’d better go to lunch. See if Mahoney has arrived back from the mainland. I heard the receptionist mention he’d left. He was away overnight.”

  “Have you found anything helpful?”

  “Nothing. Just a gut feeling.” Jack stroked his finger across her silky cheek. His instincts were working overtime, but he couldn’t be sure if it was edginess because of the blue moon or intuition about the case.

  “All the male employees are big. Muscled.”

  Difficult not to notice them, then there were the security guards who patrolled the perimeter of the resort. Keeping people in or out? Hard to say. “Did you notice the trophy cabinet at the gym?”

  “Bulging with shiny trophies.”

  Jack rolled off her and climbed to his feet. He extended a hand and helped her stand. “I’m going to search the admin offices tonight.”

  “What time? How are we going to get around the watcher problem?”

  “I’m not taking you with me.” Jack didn’t want to worry about her, but one look at her face told him she intended to argue. “We’ll talk about it later.”

  They walked along the beach, heading toward the main resort area and the restaurants.

  “What are you doing this afternoon? I’m going to do a hike around the far boundary of the resort. I want to check out a couple of boats I saw this morning.”

  Emma nodded thoughtfully. “That would be a good way to get drugs either on or off the island. This is so frustrating. We haven’t learned anything new. We don’t know anything more than we did before we arrived.”

  “A lot of investigations go this way,” Jack said. Fuck, she thought she was frustrated. Try being a taniwha with a blue moon on the horizon. His mind turned to sex. One-track bloody thing.

  “I have a hair appointment. I thought I might be able to worm something out of the hairdresser or at least hear the gossip in the salon.”

  Jack glanced at her curly brown hair and shrugged. She couldn’t get into much mischief at the hairdresser’s.

  “Okay. I’ll meet you on the beach near the pohutukawa tree at six to discuss how we’re going to get around our voyeurs.”

  “Perhaps we could stage a fight.” The twist of her lips mocked him. “It wouldn’t be difficult shouting at you.”

  Jack grinned before sobering. He seemed to do that a lot lately. Smile. And usually it was Emma related.

  “Don’t laugh,” she snapped. “I still haven’t forgiven you for this morning. You should know that I’m big on revenge so watch your back. You never know when I might strike.”

  Jack stilled at the idea of Emma plotting revenge. A fight. His mind immediately darted to the part after the fight. The making up… Alarm bells tolled inside his head. Hell. Emma Montrose was wriggling into his head, and it was bloody uncomfortable with her wedged in there. Made him think—impossible things—involving a future.

  They walked into the restaurant, and some of Emma’s poker partners gestured them to join their table.

  Emma waved back and hurried over, giving Jack no option but to follow. She’d changed since they’d arrived. She seemed more confident. More everything. Heads turned as she walked past. Jack intercepted an avid, hungry gaze eyeing Emma’s arse. He speared him with a dark scowl, his taniwha growling approval when the guy hastily turned away to make a selection from the buffet.

  “Is everyone having a good time?” the hostess purred into her microphone.

  The diners roared back a resounding yes, and she beamed.

  As Jack dropped into the seat at Emma’s side, he noticed several of the resort hostesses trot onto the stage bearing boxes.

  Without warning, his gut churned.

  “We have several appropriate gifts for males and females. In this barrel, I have discs bearing the name of each guest. A roaring sound filled his head as she read off the first name. A couple at the table on the far side of the room sprang from their seats. Jack relaxed fractionally on hearing the second name. Not theirs.

  “And finally,” the hostess said. “Jack Sullivan and Emma Montrose.”

  Jack and Emma shared a telling glance, and it was obvious to him they were thinking the same thing. They were being set up, and if they were the focus of attention they couldn’t wander the resort at will.

  Amidst much clapping and ribald shouts, he and Emma made their way up to the front to accept their prizes.

  “What have you got?” one of Emma’s new friends asked.

  Almost afraid to look, Jack ripped away the pretty steel-gray bow and tore the black wrapping paper from the box. He lifted the lid to an array of sex toys, scowled and replaced the lid.

  “Toys,” he said.

  “Emma?” her friend asked, curiosity shimmering in her voice.

  Emma glanced at Jack, her brows rising in a silent question. He shook his head. She tugged the tape from the pink parcel and peeked inside.

  A soft gasp emerged, and Jack noticed she seemed a bit flushed.

  “What is it?” Each of her friends leaned forward to peer inside.

  “Ohhh,” said one. “That’s the newest model vibrator out. Wish I’d won that!”

  “Why would she want a vibrator if she’s got Jack?” another said.

  Emma sneaked a look at Jack and found him staring at her. A flush ran the length of her body and crawled into her cheeks. But in truth, the vibrator wasn’t such a bad prize to win. Once they finished this assignment, she might need it, because finding someone to fill Jack’s position would prove difficult.

  Half an hour later, Emma finished her lunch and checked her watch.

  “I’d better go. My appointment is in ten minutes.”

  “I’ll walk you out.” Jack stood and picked up the box she’d been given as well as the one he’d won.

  “Where are you two going? Are you off to try out your prizes?”

  Emma smiled politely, but the same anger she’d experienced earlier in the gym clawed up her throat to choke her. They’d probably been set up so that they won—props—to enliven the movie that was being shot with them the star performers. She wondered what other prizes she and Jack would win during the rest of their stay.

  They left the restaurant with neither speaking until they were ensured of privacy.

  “We’re being set up.” Jack gestured at the boxes he carried with a jerk of his chin.

  “That’s obvious. Just what I wanted. My sex life plastered all over the Internet.”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll get them.�
��

  “That’s a promise,” Emma snapped, still smarting each time she recalled the males she’d overheard in the gym. “We’ll bust their asses for both drugs and illicit filming.”

  Jack grinned. “That’s my girl.” He leaned forward to kiss her square on the lips.

  Emma’s heart somersaulted. If he wasn’t interested, why was he kissing her? They didn’t have an audience. Men. She sure as heck didn’t understand them. Her lips softened under his, and she pressed into him even though the two boxes he carried dug into her ribs. Every breath she took was full of his scent. A groan built deep in her chest. Her pussy heated, moistening her panties. A perennial situation when she was around Jack. All she needed to do was think of him and her body prepared for his possession.

  Their lips slid together. Sipping, nibbling, tasting. Mating. Her stomach swirled.

  Jack pulled away with a curse, and they stared at each other for a long moment.

  “I’ll see you on the beach at six,” he said. “Don’t be late.”

  * * * * *

  Jack paced the sand beneath the old pohutukawa tree and checked the skyline again. The last rays of sun brightened the horizon, but there was still no sign of Emma.

  A couple paddled in the small waves that rushed to shore, slowly making their way toward the main part of the resort. It was a Middle Eastern night tonight so Jack presumed everyone was preparing for another night of frivolity—drinking, eating and dancing late into the night.

  He paced away from the tree and shivered at his body’s reaction to the pull of the moon. Even though it wasn’t visible yet, edginess stalked him. He glanced down at his tented shorts with a wry twist of lips. Damn, he needed Emma.

  The vibrations of approaching footsteps made him turn.

  Emma.

  Jack found himself smiling—an automatic reaction. He couldn’t seem to stop.

  His gaze scanned her from the top of her head, down her curvy form and long legs to her feet. Whoa! His gaze darted back to her hair.

  “Hi,” she called. Her body language screamed self-conscious, alerting him to the fact he could hurt her if he didn’t say the right words. An opportunity to blow this budding relationship apart.