Drake Sisters 07 - Hidden Currents

Kathie, thanks for your hours of hard work in research and editing.
    And thanks, of course, to Dr. Christopher Tong, my own personal brainiac who can do anything, and I mean anything. You always come through for me, no matter the deadline.

    1
    â€œHAVING fun, Sheena?†Stavros Gratsos rubbed his palms up and down El e Drake’s bare arms to warm her as he stood behind her at the railing of his large yacht.
    Al around them the sound of laughter and snatches of conversation drifted past her out to the shimmering Mediterranean Sea.
    Sheena MacKenzie, El e’s undercover name—and her alter ego. Sheena could sit at any dinner table and rule, her polish and sophistication and air of mystery guaranteeing she’d get attention. Devoid of makeup, with her hair in a ponytail, El e Drake could slide into the shadows and disappear.
    They made a nearly unbeatable combination, and Sheena had done exactly what El e needed her to do—she’d lured Stavros and kept him interested long enough for El e to poke into his glamorous life and see what she could turn up—which, so far, was . . . nothing.
    El e couldn’t read Stavros’s thoughts and emotions the way she did others when they touched her, and that amazed her. Her psychic ability to read thoughts was disturbing most of the time, but there were a very few who seemed to have natural barriers and she had to purposely “invade†if she wanted to see what they were thinking. El e rarely ever intruded, even when she was undercover, but she would have made an exception in Stavros’s case. She had been investigating him for months and had found nothing to either clear him—or to point toward his guilt.
    She glanced over her shoulder at Stavros. “It’s been wonderful. Amazing. But I think everything you do is like this and you know it.†Stavros always put on the best parties and his yacht was bigger than most people’s homes. He served the best food, had the best music and surrounded himself with intel igent people, fun people.
    In al the months she’d been watching him, she had yet to discover even a hint of criminal activity. Stavros had been kind and generous, giving mil ions to charities, supporting the arts and working out deals with his employees in a hands-on discussion that avoided laying off an entire group of workers. She had come to respect the man in spite of earlier suspicions, and she was ready to go back to Dane Phelps, her boss, and write a very strongly worded report that the rumors concerning Stavros were wrong—except that his aura indicated danger and a strong penchant for violence. Of course, some of the men her sisters had chosen as their mates had that same vivid color swirling around them.
    â€œI held this party in your honor, Sheena,†Stavros admitted. “My elusive butterfly.†He tugged on her arm to turn her around so that her back was against the rail and she was caged in by his body. “I want you to come to my island with me, to see my private home.â€
    Her heart jumped. According to rumor, Stavros never took any woman to his island. He had homes al over the world, but the island was his private retreat. Most undercover operatives would have relished the opportunity to enter Stavros’s private sanctum, but her boss had been adamant that she not go, even if the opportunity presented itself. There was no way to communicate from that island.
    Stavros took her hand and carried her knuckles to his mouth. “Come with me, Sheena.â€
    She tried not to wince. Sheena. She was such a fraud. This was the man she should fal in love with, not the worm—he-who-could-never-be-named—who had broken her heart. Here was Stavros, handsome, intel igent, wealthy, a man who solved problems and seemed to care for many of the same causes she did. Why couldn’t he be the man she fel madly in love with?
    â€œI can’t,†she said gently. “Real y, Stavros. I want to, but I can’t.â€
    His eyes darkened, became stormy. Stavros liked his way and was definitely used to getting it. “You mean you won’t.â€
    â€œI mean I can’t. You want things from me I can’t give you. I told you from the beginning we could be friends—not lovers.â€
    â€œYou’re not married.â€
    â€œYou know I’m not.†But she should have been. She should have been settled in