Donovans 01 - Amber Beach

don’t trust me.”
    “Aren’t you a clever boy. But we already knew that, didn’t we?”
    For a few moments there were no sounds but those Jake made controlling his breathing.
    “You’re going to push me until I lose my temper, aren’t you?” he asked evenly. “Then you’re going to tell me what a nasty, overbearing, untrustworthy son of a bitch I am.”
    “Why would I tell you something you already know?”
    “Do you want to find your brother or do you want to keep baiting me?”
    Honor looked at the powerful arm barred across her body. Jake wasn’t touching her—but if she took a deep breath she would be touching him.
    “Don’t bother to loom over me,” she said. “You need me too much to threaten me physically.”
    “You need me just as much. Remember that and bridle your tongue.”
    For an instant Honor saw nothing except the hot rush of her own blood darkening the world.
    “Look who’s talking about pushing,” she said when she could trust her voice. “If you’re trying to make me lose my temper and rush off in a snit, forget it. Kyle means too much to me.”
    “You love him.”
    “Of course I do.”
    “What about me?”
    “What about you?” she retorted.
    “You sure do fall out of love easily,” he said in a soft, cold voice.
    Honor flinched. Until that moment she had actually hoped Jake hadn’t heard her foolish, whispered declaration of love.
    “Easy come, easy go,” she said with a tight shrug. “Move your arm.”
    “Look at me.”
    She didn’t turn her head one bit.
    “Stop acting like a spoiled child,” he said. “Petyr Resnikov is a shrewd, handsome womanizer who supposedly no longer works for the KGB. I don’t believe it. You shouldn’t. At best we might be able to use Pete to find the amber. At worst he’ll use us. If you don’t stop acting like I’m a bad smell, I can guarantee that we’ll be the ones who get used.”
    “What do you want from me?” she asked tightly.
    Jake looked at Honor’s stiff posture and was tempted to shock her by telling her exactly what he wanted, when he wanted it, and how he wanted it. But that wouldn’t improve the situation one bit.
    “An act,” he said.
    “What do you mean?”
    “I want you to act like I’m an all-day sucker and you can’t wait to lick me. I’ll do the same with you.”
    “I’m not that good an actress.”
    “You were before Archer called the second time.”
    She started to retort that it hadn’t been an act then. Just in time she saw the trap and bit off the protest. “I’ll do what I can.”
    “You can start by looking at me.”
    Honor clenched her hands. Then she deliberately relaxed her fingers and turned to look at Jake. Not his eyes, though. She really didn’t want to see the male contempt in them for a silly, easy female conquest.
    “Anything else?” she asked through pale lips.
    “Pete will want to know what our relationship is.”
    “I hired you to handle my brother’s boat.”
    “And?”
    “That’s what you’re doing.”
    “Then why are we sleeping together?”
    “We aren’t.”
    “Wrong answer. If you think I’m going to lie awake in the boat wondering when some other mafiya hopeful will prowl through the cottage, you’re nuts.”
    “No. I’m not sleeping with you.”
    “Whether you sleep or not is your problem. Mine is making sure I’m the only one in your bed.”
    “No.”
    “All right. We’ll do it your way.”
    At first Honor didn’t think she had heard correctly. Before she could ask Jake to repeat it, he was talking again.
    “I’ll arrange your ticket to Tahiti and some husky types to handle your luggage.”
    “I’m not going anywhere.”
    “Wrong again. You have two choices—me as your roommate while we look for Kyle, or Tahiti and bodyguards. Take your pick, Ms. Donovan.”
    “You can’t force me to—”
    “I can damn well make sure that you’re taken out of the game,” he interrupted savagely. “If you don’t believe me, keep pushing. The only way you’ll find out about Kyle will be in the newspapers.”
    This time Honor looked at Jake, really looked at him. There was nothing smug or superior about him. He was as coldly furious as she was. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought he was the one who had been betrayed rather than her.
    “Where do you get off being angry?” she demanded. “I’m the one who got screwed!”
    “So that’s it,” he said. “Forget all the huffing and puffing about truth. My crime was