The Ultimate Romantic Suspense Set (8 romantic suspense novels from 8 bestselling authors for 99c)

by Lee Taylor

  But then again, why would they?

  The water rolls and swells, burning my eyes as the wind blows spray into my face. I bury my head into the water and swim steadily, pacing myself. A rock formation is my reference point, and I stay to the right of it.

  Birds flutter and circle above me. A swell throws seaweed over me, and I swallow water. Push, keep pushing. My life has funneled into stroke, stroke, kick, kick.

  I don't know how much time passes. But my arms ache and I'm breathless. Taking my bearings, I find I'm no closer to the beach than when I started. Despite the sun, I'm cold, gasping and shivering. The current swirls around me as I push toward the breakers.

  A wave crashes over me and sends me spinning like I'm inside a washing machine. I'm flailing, trying not to panic when another one breaks and dunks my head underwater. A wicked cramp radiates from my calf and seizes my thigh. I bob like a cork, lifting my head just enough to take a breath, but the waves pummel me, and I sink under each trough before popping up on the other side.

  Shadows creep behind my eyes along with flashes of light, and cold fear threads through me as I suck in water.

  Oh, God. I'm not going to make it.

  Mama. Emily. Zach!

  Chapter 24

  I fight for every breath in the churning water. The shoreline flickers like a distant mirage, and a large shadow approaches behind the crest of the next wave. A shark? I gasp, my heart hammering, expecting a thrashing set of jaws to clamp down on me. Instead, a shock of blond hair shakes from the surface, and Zach tugs me into his arms.

  "Sorry I couldn't get here sooner." He pulls my chin up in the traditional lifesaving posture.

  I'm coughing and sputtering, my mind racing. "But, I thought you set me up."

  He lets go and stops paddling. Oops, wrong thing to say to a guy trying to save my life.

  "I didn't mean it . . . One of their demands--"

  He steadies me in the water. "Let's get onto the beach before you start the accusations."

  I'm tongue-tied, unable to sputter a response. The best thing for me is to lie still and float while Zach drags me away from the waves breaking over the rocky ledges. We swim parallel to the beach until a swell lifts and throws us on the sand.

  Scrambling to my feet, I reach for Zach. He lets the next wave wash over him as he crawls on his hands and knees. The lower left leg of his jeans drags behind because he's missing his prosthesis. Fortunately he still has a sneaker on his right foot.

  I grab ahold of him, and he loops his arm around my shoulder. Using me as a crutch, we stagger up the beach before collapsing on the hot sand littered with bits of wood and broken shells.

  Zach is still catching his breath while I crouch with my hands on my knees and cough, spitting out seawater. His white shirt is torn and unbuttoned almost to his waist.

  Head down, I stretch my cramped muscles, my mind as disarrayed as my hair. If Zach wasn't behind the kidnapping, who was? What happened after I told him about my father?

  My temples throb to the constant pounding of the surf, and I can't get over those haunting blue eyes--the ones I saw right before everything turned bloody.

  What if my memory's returning? What if I saw the killer? Do I really want to know who it was?

  Turning my back to the biting wind, I scan my surroundings. Tufts of long grey-green grass clump between craggy rocks; there appears to be a trail crawling toward a line of spindly trees where a tin shed sits.

  Zach pushes off the ground and shuffles on his knees toward the rocky path. I rush to his side, but I'm not sure how I should respond to him. The last time I saw him, he was about to have sex with the redhead, and then I was attacked.

  He peers at me from under his brooding brows. "I can't believe you thought I had anything to do with this."

  Maybe it's not Zach directly, but he must have led them to me. How would he have known I'd go to his place though? Or had he lured me with the redhead, knowing I'd turn jealous? Then again, no one forced me to charge in there with a knife. What had gotten into me?

  I gather my hair and twist it under the collar of the jacket, trying to appear unconvinced. "I was talking to you when I was attacked."

  He rubs his five o'clock shadow and grimaces. "You freaked out and went delirious. I tried to calm you down, but some guys wearing masks barged in and grabbed you. By the time I put on my leg, all of you were gone."

  Sounds plausible.

  "How did you find me? I didn't have your cell phone."

  "No, but someone had it." He blinks and looks toward the ocean. "The GPS tracker showed it heading down the peninsula toward the harbor. I also received a text telling me to meet you at Yaringa Boat Harbour in front of my father's fishing boat."

  How convenient . . .

  "Your father's boat? Doesn't that mean Vic and Tom were helping you?"

  Zach rubs his hand over his matted hair, exposing a partially clotted gash. "Of course not. If they were, would they have bashed me on the head and tied me up in the galley?"

  My heart softens at the sight of his wound and guilt floods over me. Of course, Zach wasn't behind this, at least not purposely.

  Gingerly, I wipe his hair, being careful not to touch the wound since it had been washed clean by the salt water. "I saw blood smeared on the deck. I'm sorry they hurt you."

  His shoulders sag and he seems uncomfortable with me touching him. I let my hand drop.

  He stares at the sand. "If I had both legs, they would never have carried you off. I could have taken them. Instead, it took me the entire boat ride to work Dex's knife out of the sheath and wiggle it in position to cut my bonds."

  I turn Zach's hands palm-up. His wrists are chafed and nicked in places. Tears well in my eyes. "You saved my life."

  "I almost lost you. I saw you struggle and go under a few times . . ." His Adam's apple bobbles, and he peers at me with the cutest little boy pout.

  I'd have to be a cold-hearted witch to stay angry at him, so I throw my arms around his neck and plant a kiss on his scratchy cheek. "I haven't even thanked you. You're my hero. Always."

  One side of his face lifts as he begrudges me a smile. "I still have the universe to save . . . or at least figure out how to get us off this island."

  I want to forgive him of everything, but Vic and Tom used his father's boat. There are still too many questions, and more urgently, I need to get Zach on his feet so we can find my brothers.

  I pull him from the ground. "Let's get off the beach before the tide comes in."

  "I can stand on my own."

  "I know you can." I tug him closer so he has to lean on me. "Let's see if we can find a stick up there, or maybe there's something useful in the shed. Anyone live here?"

  "Nope," he says. "Unless you count the goats." He nods toward a hillock where two kids frolic around their grazing mother.

  "Are they tame?"

  "Dunno." He grins. "Why don't you try and catch one?"

  Zach is so good-natured, he almost makes me forget my troubles. He points to the wildlife and landmarks along the way, easing the tension between us. It takes time to navigate the steep trail with him using me as a crutch, but the terrain finally levels into a grassy meadow.

  Suddenly, a giant grey bird marches toward us, flapping his wings and hissing like a dinosaur.

  I jump and almost topple Zach. "What's that?"

  "Cape Barren geese. They're mean buggers." Zach chuckles.

  The goose lowers his neck and charges. "Honk, honk, hiss."

  "Stand your ground." Zach flaps his arms and hollers at the top his lungs, sticking out his nose as if he's about to charge. I wish I had a camera to record this. He looks so silly, but apparently it works.

  The goose stops mid-charge, then lifts his head and acts as if he didn't see us. It's quite pretty, with a black-tipped yellow beak, red socks and black webbed feet.

  "Have they accepted us?" I ask, when the rest of the geese ignore us.

  "Not really. He's saving face and doesn't want
us to think he's afraid, but he knows I'm not backing down. Remember, if they attack, don't run or they'll bite your bum." Zach pinches me and grins mischievously.

  His mood seems to have lightened, so I pinch his tight behind. He waves his arm and honks, sticking his nose close to mine, and I surprise him with a playful peck on the lips.

  This time, his smile lingers. I can feel his confidence increase with each step we take toward the spindly trees. Zach hangs on a dead tree and cracks off a dried branch. He twirls it around and stabs it in the ground. It's more like a walking stick than a crutch, but he's happier and uses it to lope ahead of me to the shed.

  My heart races, and I wonder if Ben and Dex are inside. The shed is surrounded by soft grass and consists of a patchwork of corrugated tin with plastic greenhouse panels for the roof. A rusted water tank leans against its side and a pebbled path leads to a screen door.

  Zach opens the weathered screen. I step in, squinting as my eyes adjust to the low lighting. "Dex? Ben?"

  The interior is littered with leftover supplies: empty water jugs, a torn blue tarp, reels of fishing line, a topless ice chest and an old camp cot.

  "Why would they be here?" Zach asks.

  "Tom and Vic say they're tied up on this island and will die unless I find them."

  "What did they do that for?"

  "I don't know, Zach. Their boss, most likely your father, had some demands."

  "You think my father's behind this?" He wipes a hand through his hair and points to the camp cot. "Sit. Tell me what this is really about."

  I'm bone weary so I sink onto the cot without complaint.

  Zach lowers himself to the ground in front of me. "Why would anyone want to kidnap Ben and Dex?"

  A cloud lowers over me. Charade over. I'm going to have to level with him if I want his help. "They're my brothers."

  Zach's eyes pop wide. "Seriously? But that means--"

  "My father's Anson Ping."

  "Why didn't you tell me?" His voice is barely above a harsh whisper.

  "Tell you?" My lips tremble. "You'd turn him in."

  "He killed my mother. He should face justice."

  My heart thunders and my stomach is sick. I put my head down, elbows resting on my knees. "This is why we can't be together."

  "We're not talking about us." He grips my shoulder, his voice firm. "Besides, your father is not you."

  "But you must hate him." I avoid his gaze, all too aware of his firm fingers tightening with anger. I bet you hate me too.

  "How do you expect me to feel?"

  Looks like Zach got what he wanted. I brush his hands off and stand. "I still have to find my brothers."

  "I'll go with you." He grabs his stick and props himself up. "I know this island well."

  "What do you care?"

  "I'm still your friend."

  "How can we be friends? You'll never forget who murdered your mother."

  "No, but I don't blame you or your brothers." He takes my hand. "Can't you give me a chance to show you?"

  My lips tremble. He says the exact words I yearn to hear, but I can't believe he means it. He may think he can put it behind him, that he won't blame me, but what's to say he won't resent me?

  "How can you turn against your mother's memory to help us? Don't you care about revenge and family honor?"

  "I care more about you." Zach brings me closer, looking like he's about to kiss me.

  And I you.

  I let the moment pass and lower my face, my heart twisting into a knot of misery. I don't have Zach's optimism that the murder won't affect our relationship. It's too big to get over, and even if he feels this way now, what about next year, or the year after?

  He clears his throat. "If your brothers are here, we should be able to find them. There's nothing on this piece of rock except for this hut, the beach and two caves on the other side. I used to camp here when a couple of buddies and I kayaked across the strait."

  "Thanks, Zach." I wipe my hair from my face. "I'm glad you're helping me."

  We leave the shed behind. The path inland takes us up a granite cliff. We struggle step by plodding step over the ridge to the highest point on the island. All around us, the sea sparkles like a blue-green jewel. In the faint distance lies another island, but there are no signs of any boats nearby.

  Zach points to a wide-mouthed bay. "If anyone dropped your brothers off, it'd be on this side where they can anchor. This is also where the kayakers land. If we're lucky, someone will come by."

  "Hope so. How are you holding up?" It has to be hard for him to hop each step. If my muscles are screaming sore, imagine his solo foot and ankle bearing all the stress.

  He tilts his chin and winks. "Doing okay. Let's go."

  Another thing I like about him--he never whines.

  Descending the hill proves more difficult. I walk in front to steady him, letting him use me and the stick to break his downward momentum. It's slow going because I have to test each step carefully.

  A slithering rustle in the brush causes me to slip. Zach catches himself with the stick and bends to pull me up.

  "Are there snakes here?" I ask, my heart thumping in my throat.

  "Probably." Zach prods the bushes with his stick.

  "Poisonous?"

  "Yes. Black tiger snakes. But they usually eat birds and small reptiles. Nothing to worry about." He flashes me that million-dollar smile of his.

  Great, that's so reassuring.

  We find the first cave, but it's barely a hollow in the granite wall. And there's obviously no sign of anyone, not even footprints.

  I creep under the shade to rest. My clothes have dried stiff, and bits of salt and sand cling to the threads, as well as to the tiny hairs on my arm.

  "Is there any water around here?" My tongue feels like cotton, and my head throbs a steady beat.

  Zach eases himself down on the cool floor next to me. "There's a cistern that collects rainwater near the other cave closer to the beach. Ready to go?"

  I'm still catching my breath, and I rest my head on his shoulder. "I can't decide if I'm more thirsty or more tired."

  "If I could, I'd walk down there and get you the water." His breath is warm on my ear.

  "No need to prove anything." I wrap my arms around his waist. "You're better than any other man on this planet."

  "Doesn't help us now. Let's get going." He groans as he stands and avoids my gaze. Did I say something to upset him? I feel bad because whenever I try to boost his ego, it backfires.

  Once we're outside the cave, the temperature rises and I unzip the windbreaker, not caring if Zach sees my torn blouse. He's not looking my direction anyway. We hike through a flatter track between reedy bushes and emerge beside a rock formation.

  "Here's the second cave," Zach announces.

  I step in and let my eyes adjust to the dimness. The floor is solid and relatively free of sand. People have left things behind: a pair of broken sunglasses, plastic bags and a razor.

  "Hello, anyone here?" My voice echoes, but no one replies.

  "Doesn't look like they've been here, either," Zach says from the entrance. "No footprints or signs of recent movement. What exactly happens after you find your brothers?"

  I lean against the rock wall. "I untie them and make sure they don't die of thirst. Vic and Tom said your father or whoever their boss is will free two of my father's children when he turns himself in. The third one, likely me, will be released after he signs his vineyard over to your family."

  "Wow . . . I can't believe my father would do this." Zach ducks and enters the cave. "Kidnapping is far from justice. I hope he comes to his senses and sends someone to rescue us."

  "Me too, but first, we have to find Ben and Dex. Is there anywhere else they could be?" I tear at my hair with frustration. My mouth is parched, I'm sweaty and every muscle in my body is in pain. I don't know how much longer I can take this.

  "Let's get some water and search the coves near the beach," Zach says.

 
; The thought of water has me on my feet. I let Zach lead the way until we come to a rough section with a rockslide. Again, balancing between me and the stick, Zach is able to slowly hop his way onto the sand.

  He heads toward a set of poles leaning against each other. A piece of corrugated metal is attached to the side facing the beach, probably to block the wind.

  "The water is just beyond the bush kitchen." Zach points with the stick.

  Sure enough, a circular rock-hewn wall is set partially into a hollow area in the granite. Zach lopes over, taking big hops with the aid of his stick. I peer over the lip of the pool. The reflection of the sky glimmers back from the dark water below.

  A ceramic mug attached with a dog leash hangs from an eyehook drilled into the rock. Zach lowers it into the water and pulls up a cupful. "Drink up."

  The water tastes sweet, cool, and so refreshing, not a trace of salt. I hand the cup back to him and after he drinks, he draws another mugful and says, "For you to wash your face."

  "I . . . are you sure you don't want another drink?"

  "I'm good, but you should get the salt off your face. You're starting to burn." Even during the most trying circumstances, Zach is a gentleman.

  The water cools my face and soothes my stinging eyes. When I finish, I notice Zach's face is beet red, and the top of his ears are burnt. Inspiration strikes, and I remove the windbreaker and pull my camisole from my body.

  "What are you doing?" Zach's eyes gravitate to my bra before returning to my face.

  "Your ears are burnt." I tie the camisole around his head, carefully avoiding the scalp wound.

  "Thanks, that feels better." He pulls me into his lap and caresses my cheek with his rough fingers. "You know what I like about you? Your kind heart."

  "It's just a piece of cloth." I swallow, not wanting to melt at his words and drown in the blue depths of his eyes.

  "It's more than that." His voice is husky. "Everything you do shows me you're in love with me."

  "Wh-what?" Heat rushes to my cheeks. "How can you assume?"

  "I've known for a while."

  Well this is backward. Don't people usually confess their own love instead of pin it on the other? He sounds so arrogant and assured.