No Chance

by Christy Reece

  “I sent divorce papers more than once. They were returned, too, with no explanation. After a while, I gave up. Since I never planned to marry again, I figured if you were interested in a divorce you could find me.”

  Despite the knowledge that he had every reason to believe she had wanted to end the marriage, Skylar couldn’t deny the deep hurt. All it had taken was one lousy phone call from someone who sounded like her and he’d been gone.

  Sinking down on the chair again, she wrapped her arms around herself. “I still can’t believe my father would do anything like this. What if I had wanted to get married again? I thought I was a widow.”

  “You’ll have to ask the bastard when you see him again.” He stood and grabbed his keys. “And I plan to be right there with you.” He stalked to the door. “I’ve got some things to take care of. There’s food in the minifridge if you’re hungry. Don’t answer the door for anyone. There’s a gun on the nightstand. You know how to use it?”

  He barely waited for her small nod before he added, “Use it if anyone tries to break in. Understand?”

  In too much shock to do anything but nod again, she watched Gabe go through the door and heard the click of the lock.

  And in her mind, two things whirled around and around like a spinning top. Gabe was alive! They were still married!

  nine

  Gabe closed the door to the apartment and then slumped against it. A wave of killing fury, like a volcanic eruption, surged through him. Gritting his teeth, he fought as it tried to control and devour him. He was known for his focus while on a mission, but it took every bit of willpower he possessed not to throw Skylar on a plane and go to New York to beat the shit out of Jeremiah James. The man’s prejudice and arrogance had almost destroyed two lives.

  And dammit, how stupid he’d been. How fucking stupid he’d been.

  Pulling in rasping breaths, Gabe knew he had to get out of the building into open air. His claustrophobia didn’t usually hit him unless he’d been indoors too long, but the crushing pressure in his chest told him if he didn’t get outside soon, implosion was imminent.

  His long legs eating the distance like a cheetah’s, Gabe ran down four flights of stairs at a record-breaking speed. Shoving open the door to the outside, he drew in deep breaths. Air, thick and heavy with humidity and promising a thunderstorm, was like a healing nectar coating his tortured lungs.

  The vibration of his cellphone in his pocket reminded him that other issues were more important than his need for revenge. Once Skylar was safe and the creeps who’d kidnapped her stopped, he’d deal with his bastard of a father-in-law. For now, his priorities were set.

  “Yeah?” he answered.

  “Mr. Grump?”

  Despite his anger, Gabe couldn’t prevent a small quirk to his lips at Angela’s favorite name for him.

  “Yes, this is Mr. Grump.”

  “Sir, there will be a slight delay in your package pickup. We won’t be able to arrange for delivery until Monday.”

  Knowing it’d do no good to question why Skylar couldn’t be flown out until four days from now, Gabe didn’t bother to argue. The heat must be high for it to take so long to get her out.

  “Please bring the package to your usual slot. Also, please be sure to wrap the package appropriately. And be prepared to show the appropriate documentation.”

  Meaning disguise Skye beyond any possible recognition, be prepared with every document imaginable, and be ready if sugar went to shit.

  “Sounds good, Peaches.”

  He heard a snicker as she ended the call.

  Gabe’s eyes swept the area as he pressed a button for another incoming call.

  “You okay?”

  Cole Mathison’s gruff words broke LCR protocol, telling Gabe that he needed to get his act together. Standing on a street corner and staring into space might look normal in some neighborhoods, but not here. Attracting attention of any kind was a risk he couldn’t take.

  “Yeah. Fine. Delivery’s set for Monday.”

  “Need anything?”

  “No. I’ll handle the details.”

  “I’ll be around,” Cole answered, and ended the call.

  Gabe didn’t bother to look for the man, but he knew he was there. Hard to disappear when you’re six-five and weigh about two-thirty. Somehow Cole could do it. And there was no one else he’d rather have watching his back than Cole.

  Taking one last breath of open air, Gabe turned around and headed back inside. He felt only marginally less murderous than he had before. His only priority right now had to be getting Skye out of Brazil. Then, when this job was over, he would hunt Jeremiah James down and beat the ever-living shit out of him.

  Skylar wrapped the towel around her. After Gabe left, she’d had the intense desire to get clean. It had been more than a week since she’d taken a bath and those men had put their filthy hands on her. Now her body tingled and felt almost raw from the scrubbing, but she had to get their prints off of her.

  Exhaustion from her ordeal, worry for Kendra, and the shock of seeing Gabe alive were taking their toll. Her limbs felt as if every bit of blood had been drained from her body. If she didn’t get into a chair soon, Gabe would find her on the floor when he returned.

  But first, she had to find some clothes to put on. She might technically still be married to the man, but he was now a stranger to her. Having him see her without clothes wasn’t something she could deal with right now.

  She pulled open the closet door and released a ragged breath. Nothing but hangers. Turning, she headed for the dresser against the wall. If nothing else, maybe Gabe had some underwear she could put on until he could find something suitable for her.

  She pulled the drawer open and found a pair of jeans. Her size! She pulled them out and then her heart almost stopped at the sight of what was underneath the jeans. With trembling fingers, she withdrew the white cotton T-shirt with the big colorful fish on the front. It had been her favorite shirt to wear on the island.

  And even after all these years, the sweet memory lingered.

  Eight years ago

  Kalamina Island, South Pacific

  Sitting on the sandy beach, the early morning sun blazing down on her, Skylar gave a deep, appreciative sigh. Had she ever felt so alive? So free? She glanced at the man lying beside her. Or so much in love? Unable to be next to him and not touch him, she leaned over and pressed a kiss to Gabe’s ear. “Let’s go to the other side of the island today and pretend we’re tourists.”

  “Should be easy … we are tourists.” His face buried in his towel, the muffled, sleepy tone of his voice told Skylar he was almost asleep.

  “No we’re not. You’ve been here three weeks. I’ve been here almost two weeks. We’re practically natives.”

  Gabe rolled over on his back and looked at her. Despite the heat of the sun searing her skin, Skylar couldn’t help but shiver. Those midnight blue eyes just did it for her. Every time. When he turned them on her, she felt as if her insides were turning to mush. And he knew it, too. A glimmer of satisfaction entered his expression when he saw her shiver.

  “You want me to kiss you, don’t you?”

  That gravelly, sexy voice did it for her, too. Skylar could only nod her head.

  “Then come down here.”

  Resisting the urge to throw herself on him, she slowly leaned down. When she was inches from him, he pulled her to meet him and pressed a quick, very unromantic kiss to her mouth. Then he pushed her away and sat up.

  “If we’re going to look like tourists, we have to dress like tourists.” He stood and held out his hand. “Come with me. I have the perfect outfit in mind for you.”

  Ten minutes later, they left the gift shop with Skylar giggling like a ten-year-old girl. Gabe had bought her the silliest-looking T-shirt, with a bright, colorful fish on the front. And he’d bought himself a wide-brimmed straw hat and thick sunglasses with a plastic nose attachment. Every time she looked at him, she burst into laughter.

 
; “I see you’ve found your clothes.”

  Gabe’s deep voice jerked her from the past. Skylar whirled around with a gasp. The anger she’d seen in his eyes was gone, and while that should have made her feel better, it didn’t. Now there was no emotion at all. The look reminded her of when they’d first met. Each day they’d been together, it had faded just a little more. But this grim, hollow expression had a granite-like permanency.

  Keeping a tight grip on the towel wrapped around her, she held up the fish T-shirt. “You kept my shirt.”

  He shrugged. “After you called me and broke it off … or after someone called me and broke it off, I left. Since you said you weren’t coming back, I figured that meant you didn’t care what happened to your clothes.”

  She clutched the shirt to her chest. “I left the island … after you … after I …” Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes briefly. Don’t think about it. “I didn’t ask what happened to my clothes—or yours—for a long time. When I did ask, I was told they were donated.”

  If possible, his face went harder, more remote.

  “Why keep my shirt … after all this time?”

  Another shrug, this one with a sarcastic edge. “A reminder of how stupid I’d been.”

  The words shouldn’t hurt. It had been eight years. They were different people now. Didn’t love each other anymore. And maybe he never had loved her.

  Unable to respond with any kind of appropriate zinger, she nodded and said, “I’ll go change and then I guess we need to talk.”

  His eyes swept down her body and for the life of her she couldn’t control that damn shiver that only he had ever been able to create.

  Before he could comment on it, she took the shirt and jeans, marched into the bathroom, closed and locked the door. Damned if she was going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that even after all these years he could still turn her on with one small look.

  His heart pounding like he’d been running sprints, Gabe watched Skye disappear into the bathroom. He knew that look. Hell, how many times had he fantasized about it over the years? When her eyes turned the blue of a sky right before a storm, and her breathing increased to tiny, sexy pants, she wanted one thing. Skye had wanted to kiss him. And damned if he didn’t want that, too.

  That one taste he’d had earlier hadn’t satisfied the craving. A stupid move he’d told himself not to make … a weakness he couldn’t afford to repeat again. The ache had only increased. Hell, he knew better than anyone, nothing could satisfy his craving for Skye. Even back then, the moment he’d had her, he’d wanted her again, and then again.

  Gritting his teeth, Gabe ignored the hard-on from hell and cursed inwardly. Wouldn’t be the first time he’d had to ignore what he couldn’t have. The phone on the bedside table rang, effectively dousing a need he could do nothing about.

  He grabbed the phone. “Yeah?”

  “Get someplace secure. We need to talk.” Noah’s hard voice slammed Gabe back to reality. Something was very wrong if Noah was calling him here.

  “Five minutes.”

  Gabe hung up the phone and turned around. Skye stood at the door. He ignored how the blue in the colorful fish on the shirt enhanced the color of her eyes. It had been the reason he’d bought the shirt for her. That and the way it emphasized her beautiful breasts. His eyes lowered to the luscious mounds and that familiar gut punch slammed into him again. Shit.

  “I’ve got to go out for a few minutes. Someone’s watching the building. You’re safe, but know where the gun is and use it if you have to.”

  Her eyes were wide with the knowledge of what he’d been thinking. She knew what turned him on, how he liked it, what he liked. Swallowing another curse, Gabe stalked out the door again.

  Three minutes later, he was in the back of a greasy, run-down restaurant dialing Noah. Valenti’s had been a friend to LCR for years. This was one of the few locations in South America that Gabe knew was secure.

  “What’s up?” he asked as soon as Noah answered.

  “We started searching for Kendra Carson, Skylar’s friend. Looks like we’ve got bigger problems than just one missing girl.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Ten girls from various states have disappeared over the last year, six in just the last two months. The modeling scam was a new one, but all the disappearances sound too similar not to be related. All were interviewing for some kind of seemingly glamorous job. All between the ages of seventeen and twenty-five.”

  “A ring?”

  “That’s my guess. Most of the girls are from broken families. All have been runaways.”

  “Vulnerable,” Gabe muttered.

  “Yeah … and impressionable.”

  “You want me to work it?”

  “Yes. You and Cole. Bring Skylar here before you take her home. Maybe she can shed some light on Kendra that’ll help us.”

  Gabe refused to acknowledge the relief that Skye would be with him for a few more days. He was setting himself up for another stupid disappointment. One he was pretty damn sure he wouldn’t recover from this time.

  He forced his mind to the business at hand. “You still in Florida?”

  “Yes.”

  “We’ll be there on Monday.”

  “Sounds good. In the meantime, get what you can from Skylar. We’ll put the rest of the pieces together when you get here.”

  Gabe hung up the phone and headed back to the place he’d stashed Skye. So what if he spent another few days with her? It wouldn’t change the outcome. When they returned to New York, they’d both get a chance to confront her father. Then she’d go see her lawyer and finally they could both put the past to rest.

  It was what he wanted. And he was sure it was what Skye wanted, too. He ignored the tightening of his chest at that thought. A few days ago, he’d been prepared to find her and end their marriage. This situation only made it easier. So why the hell did he suddenly feel as though he’d just jumped off a cliff and all he saw below him was a gaping black hole of nothingness?

  * * *

  McKenna rolled out from under Victor’s naked, sweating body. She had to get away from him before she barfed all over both of them.

  “Where’re you going?”

  “Bathroom.”

  “Bring me a beer when you come back.”

  Without answering, she scooped her clothes off the floor and walked on shaky legs to the bathroom. Turning on the shower to the hottest setting, McKenna almost threw herself into the shower. Why this experience today bothered her more than other times she couldn’t say. She only knew that this man would never touch her again. Using her body as a sexual weapon wasn’t something she did on a regular basis, but if she deemed it necessary to save a life, she did it. But never again with this bastard.

  Hot water poured down on McKenna as she scrubbed every place Victor had touched. She ignored the sting of soap on the bite marks and scratches. Sanitizing herself was worth the pain it caused. Besides, she’d had worse.

  She couldn’t stay in the shower as long as she would’ve liked. Not only had she not immediately returned with his beer; once was never enough for Victor. Which was one of the reasons she hadn’t carried the beer to him. He would have kept at her for hours—she’d learned that the hard way.

  She jerked as Victor pounded on the door. “Hey, bitch. I didn’t tell you that you could come in here and take a shower. And what’s the idea of locking the door? I gotta piss.”

  “I’m coming.” As her mind scrambled for the best way to handle the next few minutes, she grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her soaking body. If Victor saw her naked, saw the bruises and bites he’d marked her with, that would turn him on faster than anything. Another mistake she’d never repeat.

  She unlocked the door and stood back as he pushed it open. Giving her a glare, he went to the toilet, kicked the lid up with his foot, and urinated.

  McKenna took advantage of those few seconds to dry as much of her body as she could, then quickly pulled her
jeans and T-shirt over her still-damp body. Bra and panties would just have to wait.

  “What’re you doing?”

  She whirled around to see a naked Victor caressing his hardening penis. Just as she figured, he was getting ready for round two. Damned if that appendage would get near her ever again.

  “I figured you needed to get back to your other job.”

  Cold eyes assessed her. McKenna kept the “too stupid to live” expression on her face. It always served her well with these kinds of bastards.

  Finally he nodded. “You’re right. Can’t afford to lose this one. I’m going to make another little movie. I’ll have to double the ransom to make up for losing the bitch. I paid a shitload of money for her and got nothing.”

  His mind lightning quick, Victor had no problem jumping from one evil thought to another. The malevolent grin on his thin lips said it all. “The bastard’s got the most proper British accent you ever heard, on top of having balls of steel. He’s pissed me off more than once. I’m going to film cutting his tongue out and send it along with the tape. That’ll earn me some extra dough … and it’ll keep the bastard quiet, too.”

  McKenna swallowed the nausea that surged at the image in her mind. The thought of that happening to anyone was bad enough. But she’d seen Lucas Kane on television. Tall, golden perfection. And he had the most beautifully cultured British accent. The first time she’d heard him speak, she’d felt such odd tingles all over her. Victor’s words only made her determination greater. She would make sure he never got a chance to harm him.

  Running a towel through her short, damp hair, she giggled like the insane idiot he thought her. “I took Edmond’s knife before those mortuary people got him. It’s got the sweetest edge … perfect for slicing off a tongue.”

  Victor grinned his approval as he continued to stroke himself. “That’s why we make such a good team, baby. You are one fucked-up bitch.”

  Funny, that was the first time she’d ever agreed with Victor.

  A hand on her shoulder jerked Skylar from a restless sleep. She blinked up at the man looking down at her. It was still such a surreal thing to see Gabe’s face. She was incredibly grateful that he was alive, but the awfulness of what had happened tempered that joy. Her father … dear sweet heaven … her father had betrayed her in the worst way.