Read By Break of Day (The Night Stalkers) for Free Online Page B

smelled. Her lips were warm and soft. He’d half expected them to be made of as much steel as her spine and attitude. Instead they gave and molded to return his kiss.
    “Mrgrmmmph!” It seemed like a happier sound; he was fairly sure it was.
    When the blow came, it didn’t connect with his jaw.
    Instead, her fist hit the center of his chest and only just hard enough to knock them apart.
    “Shit, Roberts!” Kara cursed. “You can’t be doing something like that.”
    “Sorry, ma’am. Warned you it was inappropriate.”
    “You kiss me and you call me ma’am? Crap! You really are from Texas.”
    “Born and bred.”
    “Like your horse who keeps secrets so well.”
    He nodded. “Much like. Except she’s a she and I’m not. There’s also the matter of a different number of legs, though I do hope that I kiss better than she does. She tends to slobber a bit.” Also, this conversation was not the least like any he’d ever had with a woman he’d just kissed. Whose lips still hovered close enough that he could feel the warmth of her words on his cheek.
    Kara took a step back and bumped against the rail.
    Justin forced himself to lean back against the gray steel of the superstructure still cool with the night. It brought some tiny bit of rationality back to him.
    He rubbed at his jaw. “Odd, I don’t feel a slap.”
    “You were expecting one?”
    “Must admit I was.”
    “And still you kissed me.”
    He slid his hat back on. “Seemed worth the risk. You taste sweet, Kara Moretti.”
    “Do not be saying shit like that.”
    “Give me a reason not to.”
    She narrowed her eyes at him for a long moment before tipping her head toward the rail she was leaning on. Her hair swung like a wave softer than those rolling by behind her.
    “You want a reason? Fine. I’ll give you two words. Hat. Ocean.”
    The woman did know how to make her point.
    Still, he didn’t have a palm print in red on the side of his face. Made it downright difficult to not be grinning as he looked down at her.
    * * *
    Men had stolen kisses from Kara before.
    When they were both six, her nearest cousin had claimed first rights…and his nose had bled all over his cannoli.
    Carlo di Stefano, now turned opera singer, had won her first real one at thirteen. Hadn’t earned the slap until he’d grabbed onto her breasts that had only recently put in an appearance.
    There’d been others, some welcomed, many rebuffed.
    And she had fully expected to be rebuffing Justin Roberts.
    Instead she’d barely resisted melting against him at the Peleliu ’s port rail.
    “That will never do.”
    “What won’t?” He still leaned back against the communication structure’s gray steel, looking ever so much like he was a cowboy leaning up against a fence post in the middle of some Texas prairie rather than wearing a sand-colored T-shirt, Universal Camo ACU trousers, and tan Army boots.
    “You kissing me and me not…” She trailed off because it sounded stupid to say it after not doing it.
    “…slapping me so hard that I see stars for a week.”
    “Yeah, that.” She couldn’t help but smile. He read her far too easily.
    “Don’t be doing that!” Justin’s voice was suddenly sharp.
    “What, slapping you?”
    “Well, I appreciate you not giving me what I deserved. But stop that smiling thing you’re doing. It’s what has gone and got me in trouble in the first place.”
    Kara bit her lower lip and tried to look somewhere else to hide her smile. Behind her lay nothing but the calm Mediterranean; Turkey was out of sight over the horizon. A small cluster of fishermen worked the water out near the horizon with a net and a couple cranes. Even though she traveled alone, not many were foolish enough to approach a ship the size of the Peleliu uninvited.
    Fore and aft offered no view, just the narrow service walkway. Upward ranged several stories of communications structure, then a couple stories more of radio masts and radar.
    Straight ahead.
    Justin