Risking It All. Stephanie Tyler
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It was all part of the pattern.
A pattern he blamed on his mother’s love for Johnny Cash, the singer. It was an ironic twist of fate, since her son wasn’t sure any woman would ever be able to walk the line for him. His mother hadn’t been able to for his father, and that betrayal always stayed with him.
Rina didn’t fit that pattern at all. Dedicated. Determined. And those serious brown eyes that noticed everything. She was adorable, even when pissed off, her accent deepening.
He flexed his hands as even now he thought about running them along the swell of her breasts until she said his name in a way that signaled passion, not annoyance.
The fact that he was still bothered about her had him tossing and turning last night after he’d followed her back to her hotel, told him something was definitely up with this one. And that it went beyond needing to grab that tape she’d recorded at the surf shop. The one she’d likely ditched at her editing facilities before hitting the beach, but after Justin had moved onto other surveillance as per the DEA’s orders.
He and Justin had come up with an alternate plan to grab the footage of the surf shop, once Cash assured him that Rina was a filmmaker and not any kind of undercover agent herself. Cash would run interference with Rina. Justin would grab the Bobo footage, as well as the footage of Cash. Which would mean getting the keys, since the industrial building that housed the documentary’s production offices would be a real bitch to break in to and attracting attention was not a main goal.
There was no way Cash could be seen in that video, even if it did somehow hold the balance of her future as a professional filmmaker, like she’d said. He’d worked too hard to screw it up on something like that. Besides, he didn’t need the ego boost, no matter how hard she’d tried to sell him on the idea.
The DEA would have his ass if he messed this up now, and his CO would take the rest and stomp it if Cash allowed a traceable image of himself on film that was possibly distributed worldwide.
He didn’t remember being filmed yesterday, but then again, when he was being pulled into some of the biggest waves Pipe had to offer, he was more concerned with getting his adrenaline rush and coming out in one piece. Because his CO would kill him if he came back from vacation hurt. And really, he could understand that, since his job necessitated that he be ready for action at a moment’s notice.
Still, putting himself—and keeping himself in danger was all part of the game to keep him sharp, to let the fear find him so he could conquer it over and over. He liked to meet life head on on a daily basis, to stay busy enough so he didn’t have to think about the one thing he refused to meet head on.
Besides, it would be too big of a blow to his pride to let a wave—or anything else—take him down. He’d been battling them, and the stormy past they represented, for a while now, and as long as he could keep his head above water, he was winning.
And he was all about winning.
“Hey, can you take us to shore? There’s someone I’ve got to find,” he said to the captain of the small boat even as he muttered something about now he hated having a goddamned conscience under his breath. The day had been a bust, anyway. Nothing to see out here but waves, and unfortunately, waves weren’t the only thing he had left to find.
“I thought we were surfing,” Mike said, once Cash was through having the conversation with himself, and the boat had turned around. The salt sprayed their faces as the craft picked up some serious speed.
“We are,” he said. “You’re just going to do it for the camera today.”
RINA HADN’T BEEN ABLE to do anything at all with the film. She’d worked through the better part of the night before she’d finally given in and slept with her head down on her arm on the console, then woken up with marks from her watch on her cheek and a bad attitude. She’d tried to fix the video with a determination she hadn’t even known she’d possessed. But, in the end, even Stella, normally her biggest cheerleader, had to admit that it just wasn’t good enough.
Rina knew she was going to have to reconfigure the whole thing, and that she and Stella would need to choose something else to send in with the grant proposal. None of the other men fit in with the theme of hero as well as Cash had, and she shook her head at the irony of that, especially since her hero turned out to be some kind of shady character.
Typical.
Five days in Hawaii and her one trip to the most beautiful beaches on earth had turned into a complete and utter disaster.
Stella had eventually dragged her away from the editing room, forced her to shower and put on something fun and cute. And then they’d gone to dinner, but ended up with an hour’s wait at most places, and settled in at the nearest bar instead.
“You’d better slow down, or you’ll never be able to fix that film in the morning before we leave,” Stella told her. But Rina batted her friend’s back away when she tried to take away the Mai Tai.
The third, very strong Mai Tai she’d had over the course of two hours. “Stel, maybe if you talked to him…”
“From what you said, he sounded pretty adamant about it.”
“But you’re his type.”
“How do you know that?”
“You’re every man’s type. Tall. Thin. Blo-o-o-ond.” She strung out the last word and Stella laughed.
The two women looked as opposite as night and day, and Rina often bemoaned Stella’s tall, slim figure while she had to work to keep her own curves under control. Stella also had long, blond hair and deep green eyes that had men drooling after her. Rina had always done fine with her share of guys, but if Stella wasn’t such a good friend, she might seriously hate her.
“It was your job to convince him. Besides, you seemed very proprietary,” Stella reminded her.
“Not anymore,” she said. “Not when he’s an arrogant, obnoxious, ‘look at me I’m a surfing God’—”
“Talking about me?”
She almost fell off the stool when she heard that low, sexy “do it to me baby” voice behind her.
Hold it together, she told herself firmly. You don’t owe this guy a thing.
“Not everything is about you,” she said, turning to look up into his eyes. Big mistake. That electric current she’d felt running between them was still there and strong, and yes, it certainly was all about him because he looked just as good dry.
“Well, that’s a shame,” Cash said, and when did his eyes get bluer?
“Can I help you with something?” she asked finally.
“Actually, this arrogant, obnoxious, surfing God is here to help you,” he said.
“You’ve already done enough,” she said. “We had a fight,” she told the dark-haired man standing next to Cash.
“Who won?” the man asked, and Rina reluctantly pointed a finger at Cash, who shook his head and looked up toward the sky as if some divine intervention could save him from all of this.
“Mike, this is Rina,” Cash said.
“Mike, your friend ruined my video and threatened to call my boss,” she said, and noted that Stella watched the whole scene with growing amusement.
“She doesn’t seem that uptight to me,” Mike said to Cash.
“You told him I was uptight?”
“You are uptight. Too much city and not enough of the beach in you,” Cash explained.
“And I suppose you’re the man to change all that, right? The one to set me on the path to a Zenlike relaxation, beginning with what? I’d bet you’d suggest a mind-blowing orgasm,” she said, before she could stop herself, because the Mai Tai’s were in control now.
Funny