Too Close
Chapter 94
Shading her eyes, Kate looks out at an azure ocean. "It's beautiful, Babe, like a photograph from a tourist brochure, but I always assumed that most of those were touched up."
"They probably are," Rick guesses, "but this island has no brochures. If anything, the presence of the general public is discouraged. Fortunately, the owner is a Derrick Storm fan."
"Not Nikki Heat?"
"Don't take it personally. He's more into guys who can press 400 pounds, but it's nice to know that my books cater to a diverse readership. Nikki has a universe of fans of her own, and of course, I'm the most fervent of all."
Kate grabs a handful of Rick's back end. "Of Nikki or the woman behind her?"
"The real woman has the strongest grip on me, but I'm more than happy to explore the subject further. In the mood to try out our bridal bower?"
"Sounds like a plan. You know, you already carried me over the threshold," Kate reminds Rick as he scoops her up and heads for their bungalow.
"Yes, but now I'm delivering you to a much more interesting destination." Striding across white sand, Rick kicks open an unlocked door and crosses the dwelling's main living area to lay Kate on the brightly colored spread of a king-sized bed. "How does it feel?"
Kate pats the bedding next to her. "Lonely."
Rick dives to her side, his fingers sliding beneath her gauzy sundress to ease it over her head. "No sun in here."
She reaches for the buttons of his parrot and palm tree emblazoned shirt. "And you don't need this." Her fingers dip under the elastic waistband of his swim shorts. "Or these either."
Rick's lips find the slim band of silk forming a final barrier, pressing a kiss to the smooth surface before sliding it down the length of her legs. His mouth travels upward, blazing a trail to the creamy globes straining for his attention. His tongue circles one pink bud and then the other, while the tips of his fingers reach down to do even more intimate duty.
Kate heats at his touch, her breath coming in gasps as she bucks beneath his manipulations.
Rick feathers a final kiss to the scar between Kate's breasts before his mouth takes the place of his fingers. As she plunges her fingers into his hair, pulling him more tightly against her, Kate's moans vibrate through the tropical air. The rattan headboard creaks and the light wood of the bed frame groans beneath them as shuddering waves surge through Kate's body.
She stills for a moment, catching her breath before her questing lips find Rick, firm and hot. The tip of her tongue teases him as she rides taut muscle of his thigh. Her mouth encases him, her fingers caressing the sensitive root of his masculinity. Tasting the first drops of his response, she pulls back, her encircling hand leading him to share their deepest joining.
Kate arches as he thrusts, brushing her palms over the dampening skin of his back. She can feel the pressure rebuilding within her, and their releases explode in unison, driving the strength from their bodies and the air from their lungs. Side by side, they lay hand in hand; awareness slowly edging its way past their lovers' daze.
Perusing Circuit Magazine to get the lay of the security business in New York, Ken notices an ad that seems like pure serendipity. The Allendale Agency is up for sale. He's vaguely familiar with the firm. They provide security for world leaders visiting the United Nations, some of whom the company has under surveillance. If he can afford the purchase, owning Allendale would fit perfectly into his plans. He can start by sending an email off to the address given for inquiries. When he finishes that chore, he can have a look at listings of current theater offerings. Martha must be appearing somewhere.
Martha examines her face in the mirror, not her favorite thing to do in the past two decades, but a professional necessity. Her present appearance didn't seem to be off-putting to — what was he calling himself — Ken Bruderlin. Well, his wasn't either. The work was as least as good as one could get from the overpriced Park Avenue scalpel wielders favored by some of her contemporaries.
She's occasionally thought about getting a few things tightened herself, but there's little point to it. The world is full of ingenues, and the theater needs women with the maturity to play mothers and grandmothers. As she's kept telling herself over the past twenty-plus years, character roles are more interesting anyway, as have been the men who've played opposite her. But no one, including either of her husbands, was as fascinating as the man she remembers as Jack. Hell! That probably wasn't his real name either. It doesn't matter. Ken still has the same magnetic pull that drew her to his younger self. She just hopes her dreams of a real reunion can be fulfilled.
Castle stretches contently in the hot tub. "I should get one of these for the loft."
"It would be nice," Kate agrees, paddling her fingers in the warm water, but I doubt the floor would support the weight, and you do have the spa at the house in the Hamptons."
"We have the spa out in the Hamptons," Rick corrects. "It's as much your beach home now as it is mine. Everything I have is yours. You know that."
"I think you can keep Boba Fett for yourself," Kate replies playfully, "and that smelly cheese you like so much."
"Well, when you get right down to it, you can keep radicchio, and — ugh — kale. But that still leaves us a lot to share. And right now I'm thinking about what we want to share for lunch. There is a small restaurant near the main house for guests who are unwilling or unable to feed themselves, but we have a full array of staples in the kitchen as well as some delectable additions. The island has its own gardens, and the fruits and vegetables all look fresh. I'm told that the fish is caught daily and would have been stowed for us just before we arrived. The roast beef didn't look bad either. Our host keeps a small herd of cattle."
"Sounds like if he wanted to, he could hunker down here forever." Kate sighs, snuggling into Castle's shoulder. "Imagine having your own little world like that. No bad guys to worry about. No bureaucracies. No traffic jams. It would be like living in Paradise."
"Barring the occasional hurricane," Castle responds. "But I can't see you wanting to live that way for very long. The Kate I know couldn't be content strolling among the lilies of the field. After a short time, you'd be champing at the bit to kick a little ass. And I'd be just as impatient to watch you do it. Speaking of kicking ass, are you ready to take your sergeant's exam? You won't have much time to study when we're back in the city."
"I think I'm as ready as I can be. But," she adds, as her fingers wander across his thigh, right now I don't want to think about what happens when we're back home. In the here and now there's only you and me, and I'm going to enjoy every second. That includes stuffing our faces with some of that roast beef."
Castle pulls himself out of the tub and reaches for a towel. "You're on! Last one to the kitchen washes the dishes."
With steps punctuated by shared laughter, they sprint toward their honeymoon nest.