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Romancing the Alpha: An Action-Adventure Romance Boxed Set

Page 65

by Zoe York


  — SIXTEEN —

  A cold shiver rippled down Seth’s back.

  Tobin put his hands up. “Hey man, you got what you wanted. Just take it and go! We didn’t do anything.”

  There was a glint of steel and a blur of motion as the man smacked the barrel of his gun across Tobin’s cheek. Tobin grunted and dropped like a stone; Julie let out a horrified squeak. Seth heard his own guttural shout of protest while the men leaning in from the cockpit roared like spectators at a boxing match.

  Seth leaned over his brother, cussing under his breath before getting kicked away by the man with the gun. He tumbled backward, and the hand he held up to ward off whatever came next was covered in blood. His brother’s blood.

  “Fuck, man,” Tobin muttered from the floor, cupping his cheek.

  “On your knees!” the man shouted.

  Tobin was already there; Julie folding to the floor. Seth threw a frosty look at the intruder before complying. Rapid-fire Spanish mixed with English ensued, and a second man advanced with something bristling in his hand. He yanked Tobin’s hand away from his face and forced it behind his back, jamming his wrists together and wrapping something around them.

  Cable ties, Seth registered. The man was tying Tobin up. Did that mean the three of them would be left tied up or tossed overboard to drown? The intruders didn’t seem to know either, judging by the tone of the discussion.

  Then the radio squawked with a static-laced voice. “Serendipity, Serendipity, this is Bluegrass, Bluegrass. You still there?”

  Everyone froze, and the voice came on again.

  “Serendipity, Seren—”

  The closest man clubbed the radio with the butt of his gun, sending bits of metal and plastic flying.

  Seth stared at the remains of his radio and growled. His brand new, four-figure radio, bought just for this trip.

  The second man stepped over Tobin, shoved Seth down, and yanked his hands together. He had no choice but to comply; struggling only made the cable tie cut deeper into his skin.

  The man turned to Julie next, and every instinct in Seth blazed. Kill man. Protect woman. Protect his home.

  Julie’s eyes were defiant, but her cheeks were pale. Christ, if they touched her…

  The man pulled her to her feet and yanked her hands behind her back. Then he stopped with an appreciative cluck.

  Julie paled, and a hundred ugly scenarios flashed through Seth’s mind. He braced his right foot against the floor, collecting his body to spring off his knees and into action — any action.

  The man brushed a hand down Julie’s back then turned to his colleagues with a grin.

  “Maybe we take a second prize tonight,” he purred to the others.

  Seth dipped his right shoulder down, ready to body check the man. What he’d do after that with his hands tied behind his back and three guns trained on him, he didn’t know, but he wouldn’t just stand there while they had their fun.

  The man’s left hand slid an inch lower. Lower, past the hem of her shorts. His right hand slid along Julie’s waist.

  Every muscle in Seth’s body tensed as he prepared to spring. Not. Letting. That. Happen. Never. Every leaden thump of his heart was a vow.

  Then a godawful crackling sound broke the still air, and all eyes swung toward the door. The radio on the police boat erupted into a harried mix of static and guttural shouts.

  Seth’s ears strained to make sense of the noise.

  “Capitán! Capitán!” The man outside in the cockpit motioned at Hernandez. “Capitán!”

  A jumble of Spanish followed, and even the man ogling Julie looked pained. Were they being called away on another mission — a legitimate one? Maybe getting called in to report?

  Hernandez’s eyes flashed, and he gripped his gun tighter as if squeezing off a couple of rounds might ease the frustration so evident in his face. His jaw clenched. “Vamos.”

  A stone rolled off Seth’s heart. At least, that’s what it felt like when the man next to Julie stepped back. He scowled, whipped a cable tie around Julie’s wrists, and shoved her so hard, she went sprawling across the floor. Seth nearly did the body check then.

  Cable-tie man stomped past, kneeing Seth in the ribs, punching Tobin’s back. Seth struggled to stay upright as pain flooded his taut nerves — along with relief. The men were all stamping up the stairs. Away. Out.

  “Señorita Steffens.” Hernandez paused at the doorway, motioning with his gun.

  Seth managed to lean right, blocking a clear shot at Julie. Just in case.

  “I suggest you forget what happened here and get out of my country,” Hernandez said. “Soon. Because remembering…” The man paused in his warning, tut-tutting with his head. “That would be bad. Very bad.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Seth saw Julie roll to her back. Her lips were moving, formulating some clever reply, but she bit it back. Barely, judging by the angry twitch of her cheeks.

  Then mustache man was gone, too, and multiple footsteps resounded through the hull. There was a thump, shouted orders, and the roar of the other boat’s engine, followed by an ear-splitting scrape along the length of Serendipity.

  The roar receded into the distance, and they were alone.

  Alive.

  Kicking, more or less.

  The taste of bile filled his mouth as he imagined the alternative.

  His eyes swung to his brother’s blood-smeared face. Tobin twisted, then groaned and gave up.

  “Julie,” Tobin sighed at the ceiling, “you sure got some ‘splaining to do.”

  — SEVENTEEN —

  “We need to get out of here first,” Julie said, twisting her hands where they were bound behind her back.

  Seth could see her contorting, trying to work her hands free. He figured it should be at around this point that the average woman — hell, the average man — would break into tears and collapse in a puddle on the floor. But Julie’s eyes were flashing anger, not fear. She was flopping around like a fish on a line and muttering under her breath — a whole flood of expletives, all of them aimed at one man.

  “Professor Fucking Gregory Leeds, when I get my hands on you,” she started. With a roll and a heave, she flopped over to her stomach. “Sisters of Mercy Convent in Matigúas, my ass,” she panted, wiggling into a tripod position with her forehead and two knees under her body, her butt in the air while her hands continued writhing behind her back.

  “You’ll only make it tighter,” Seth warned, casting around for some sharp object. Too bad he ran a tight ship — there was nothing loose lying around. Not from his perspective on the floor, at least.

  “We don’t have much time.” Julie grunted as she pushed herself up on her knees.

  Seth didn’t like the sound of that. But Tobin beat him to the question. “What do you mean, not much time?”

  She shook her head and heaved to her feet, swaying there for a minute before blinking and taking a step aft. She started picking her way past Seth’s sprawled limbs, then Tobin’s as each of them struggled to sit up.

  “They’ll be back when they realize…” She trailed off.

  “When they realize what?” Tobin barked.

  Silverware clinked as she rooted around in the galley and cursed. “Tobin, tell me how close I am.”

  “You’re changing the subject.”

  “I’m trying to find something to cut us free.”

  Smart girl. Seth nodded to his brother. Julie might not be able to see what she was reaching for, but Tobin could. “Come on, tell her.”

  “There’s a knife on your left. No, my left. Wait, that way,” Tobin started.

  Seth could hear her sigh of exasperation. “Just tell me hot or cold.”

  “Cold. The other way. Warmer. Warmer…”

  Seth heaved his body up, only to slam into the underside of the table built into the center of the cabin. Some pirate he made.

  “Warmer,” Tobin went on as the silverware continued to rattle. “Hot! Hot! There!”

&nbs
p; “Got it,” she said.

  Seth tried standing up again, and this time, he made it to the seat beside the table. Julie, meanwhile, was turning around, then turning back, then facing forward again, trying to figure out how to work the knife in between her bound wrists. Her gaze flipped to Tobin and paused there for a moment, weighing her choices. Whether to hand him the knife and let him cut her free, or to use it to cut his first, maybe?

  Another second’s hesitation then she turned to Seth instead. His inner audience gave a little cheer.

  “Here, take it,” she said, shuffling over so she was back-to-back with him. “Got it?”

  He lurched to his feet and let his fingers search around. Past the fabric of her khaki shorts, past the light cotton of her shirt — there. His fingers found hers and traced their way to the knife — the six-inch kitchen knife that badly needed sharpening. Great.

  “Got it.”

  “Tobin, can you see? Tell him where to aim,” she said.

  “Move a little,” Tobin started. “OK. Um, stick the knife, well, I mean, put it, I mean…”

  “Tobin!” they both shouted at the same time.

  “I can barely see your hands,” he complained.

  “How’s that?” Julie asked, bending forward at the waist so that he had a clear view of the space behind her back. Seth knew because the motion shoved her perfect ass into his and sent a series of completely inappropriate images through his mind. But now was really not the time, so he forced himself to concentrate on the knife clutched awkwardly between his fingers.

  Silence. Nothing. He looked toward Tobin and found him staring at Julie’s long, lean legs and perfect ass.

  “Tobin!” he barked.

  “Right.” Tobin blinked. “You need to get the tip in closer.”

  Seth clenched his jaw. “Closer where? I don’t want to slit her wrists.”

  “With that knife?” Tobin scoffed. “It’s way too dull.”

  “Great,” Julie muttered.

  He tried again, his fingers jittery with either numbness or fear. Whichever.

  “Hey,” she whispered, softer now. “Relax. I trust you.”

  It wasn’t just the words. It was the tone, the way her body scooped alongside his. Julie, trusting him with her life.

  Like his heart could pound any harder.

  “Yeah, but do you trust him?” Seth tried joking it off by aiming an elbow toward his brother.

  She cocked her head at Seth, locking her blue eyes on his. “Trust him? Mostly. Now get to work, captain.”

  It took three minutes — and decade off his lifespan, Seth figured — but he did it. Got the knife behind the cable tie, sawed away from her until he heard an audible snap. He froze, waiting for a warm trickle of blood to signal he’d missed badly, but there was only a happy squeak and a flutter as Julie’s hands flew up. She was free.

  Seth blew out a long, grateful breath. He wished he could see her face. Wished he could hug her. Wished…

  Her hands were already on his, the blade slipping easily into place, reminding him there was no wishing, only action. Another snap, and his hands were free, too. His moment to spin around and face her.

  But Julie was already stepping over to Tobin.

  “Cut me, baby,” his brother joked. Even with a bloody face, the guy was a charmer. Julie didn’t even crack a smile, a woman on a mission.

  Then Tobin was free, too, and Julie was climbing up the steps to the cockpit.

  “The coast is clear,” she announced. The second part was quieter. “For now.”

  What did she mean, for now?

  “Julie, what’s going on?”

  — EIGHTEEN —

  What was going on? Julie leaned her elbows on the edge of the cockpit, staring out over the sea. Part of her was keeping lookout, but the other part was ready to dry heave, and not from seasickness. She’d been such a fool.

  If I can ask you for one more favor before you go, my dear? The professor had looked so honest, so sincere when he said it.

  Sure. Anything, she’d stupidly replied.

  I have a gift and some documents for an orphanage we support in Matigúas. The post is so unreliable, you know. And since you’re heading that way…

  He might as well have added, And since you’re such a trusting idiot, you’ll smuggle this package over an international border for me.

  She’d figured he had some scam going, old Professor Leeds. But something small-time, as it seemed just about every second person in Guatemala did. His jeep was much too new, his accommodations near the excavation site flashier than anyone else’s. The place had a pool, for Christ’s sake!

  Drive carefully, my dear.

  She should have read the subtext: Watch that the corrupt cops don’t run you down then chase you out to sea. ’Cause you’ll be on your own then, my dear.

  But she wasn’t alone. That was the one good thing about all this. Some kind fate had brought her Seth.

  Seth, who was stepping up to her now, running a calming hand over her back when he could have been screaming for answers.

  God, what had she done? Not only had she stumbled into hot water, she’d dragged Seth into this, too. He’d terrified her even more than that jerk who’d fondled her ass and suggested to his comrades that they stop for a little fun. Seth had started bristling like a papa bear, growling and flashing the evil eye that promised hell and beyond if they touched her. Even from his trussed-up position on the floor, she swore Seth looked twice his usual size. Big and bristly and lethal in that don’t-fuck-with-my-woman kind of alpha male way.

  If he had jumped the intruders, they would have shot Seth dead. His heroics would have been for nothing. If it hadn’t have been for the radio calling the cops away… She shivered, trying not to imagine her own rape. His murder. The horrible end.

  Another set of feet joined them on deck. Tobin. He’d been in danger, too, and had a gun smashed across his face. He could have lost an eye — or worse.

  “This is all my fault.” Her head was hanging so low, she could barely hear her own voice.

  “No, it’s my idiot brother’s,” Seth said. “He’s the one who announced our position to everyone in radioland.”

  She heard Tobin sink into the seat behind her. “I know.” His voice was distant, hollow. It didn’t sound like the first time the brothers had been through that exchange.

  Funny how they each played a role — so perfectly that she doubted they were even aware of it. Seth was the responsible older brother who did all the right things. Tobin was the rebel, the party boy, the carefree surfer — the one who could be counted on to make mistakes. Then along came this boat and knocked them out of their little worlds. Tobin could take some real responsibility while Seth could loosen up.

  Back home, she’d never have fallen for a guy like Seth. But out here, in sailor mode, the appeal of a man in transition toward something better was hard to resist. She wanted to smooth the last city edges off him like the sea works on a pebble, rolling it over and over until it was round.

  Except he’d ditched her two months back, right?

  Her heart gave a little twinge underneath her ribs. He hadn’t ditched her. Not exactly. She had pinned the blame on him too quickly. A little like Seth was doing with Tobin now, when it wasn’t Tobin’s fault.

  She straightened her back and sat up to face them. “No, it’s my fault.” She put a finger under Tobin’s chin and tipped his bloody face up. “My fault.” God, she hated those words. Didn’t have much practice with them either. But it was true, and she had to live with it. “Someone must have seen me heading to Serendipity, and how hard could it be to guess where we went?”

  A wave slapped the side of the boat — a reminder that they had to get going before Hernandez discovered what she’d done. “Anyway, I’ll explain once we get going.”

  “Going? Where?”

  She looked at the inky seascape. To the west lay the lights of the mainland. To the east, the dark splotch that was the little island. Beyond i
t, the silvery, rippling sea.

  Where to go?

  There was really only one choice, and that was straight into trouble.

  — NINETEEN —

  Julie was still eyeing the mainland, a haunted look shadowing her face when Seth took her by the shoulders and turned her gently around.

  “Julie, talk to me. Explain.” He made sure it came out the way he meant it — a plea, not an order.

  “Yeah, explaining would be good,” Tobin added, not quite as diplomatically.

  Seth watched her eyes slide to his brother, then wince. “Let’s get you cleaned up first.” Her shoulders lifted then fell in a deep breath.

  They filed back into the cabin, where Seth pulled out the first aid kit while Julie turned a light on Tobin’s cheek.

  “Shit,” Seth said. He knew it was bloody, but hell, his brother’s wound was worse than he’d thought. Julie dabbed the blood away, revealing an inch-long gash and a purplish-red swelling the size of a fist.

  “Not that bad,” Tobin muttered, giving that lazy wave he specialized in. Except Seth didn’t buy it, not one bit. Tobin’s knuckles were white where his hands gripped the chart table and his back was uncharacteristically stiff. Seth looked his brother up and down, wondering how often Tobin had shown the world that same dismissive veneer when he had to be hurting inside. Wondered how he’d ever missed it before.

  Shit, maybe his kid brother was more of a man than he gave him credit for.

  Julie spread out the first aid supplies on the chart table then pushed back Tobin’s hair to clean his cheek.

  “Ouch,” Tobin said, though he quickly drifted into that dreamy state that house cats get when curled on their favorite armchair. Getting petted. In the sun. Except Tobin’s spot was nearly cheek to cheek with Seth’s girl. Her body was so close, it was nearly brushing his.

  A heat wave pulsed through Seth’s veins. This was exactly why he hadn’t invited her to the boat before. His brother had a way of charming more than just the proverbial pants off women, and even the smartest ones went all fluttery when they met him.

 

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