Luc would have a fit if he knew what she planned. It had taken several changes of clothes to find a full skirt with a belt to help hold the weight and a deep enough pocket to hide her father’s service revolver. Every exposed step of the walk from the mailbox to the cottage, she was conscious of the weight of the box and the hidden gun banging against her thigh.
As she approached the front door, the setting sun reflected off the windows in blinding golden starbursts. She blinked and tried to focus on the ground ahead. Her cockeyed plan needed two clear eyes and a truckload of good luck to succeed.
She stopped ten feet from the door, lowered the package to the ground and backed a couple of steps away, palms open and hands spread wide. Her heart raced as adrenaline coursed through her body.
The door cracked open and the tip of a rifle poked through.
###
A bead of sweat ran down Luc’s neck as he lined up his shot. Eva was completely exposed in that wasteland of a garden. Every step she took towards the door added more gray hairs to his head. In vain he’d argued all afternoon to take her place and make the delivery but she refused to be swayed.
“Seb’s my responsibility. I have to be the one. Don’t you think the kidnappers will suspect something is fishy if you show up in my place?”
Of course she was right, but it didn’t make the waiting any easier. Halfway up the garden slope and she was still moving. “Far enough, Eva,” he muttered. “That’s enough. Why aren’t you stopping?”
“Hey, boss, the boys are in position. The place is surrounded. How many guns you see?” Samuel eased into full length commando position on Luc’s right and sighted along the barrel of his rifle.
Luc flicked a glance at him, checked the boys on his left, and focused back on the door. He needed Eva to stop short of the house so he had a clear shot. If they came out. “One at the door and another at the left hand window. I’ll take the door. Did you see any more from the side?” Luc flexed his trigger hand and resumed his grip. He sighted the gun at the window then trained it to cover the door. The man and the gun directly threatening Eva.
“Couldn’t spot any other guns but the boys have the back covered. Miss Abbott’s car and Seb’s bike are in the shed. Wish we knew how many are in there and if they’ve got more guns.”
“At least two. One to drive the car and another, the bike. They probably took the bike to make Eva think Seb was out and buy themselves more time.”
“Pretty weird, eh, boss? Any ideas who took Seb?”
“My money’s on the Russian. He hasn’t been seen since yesterday. His accomplice is anyone’s guess.”
“Piece of shit, no-good bastard. I’d like to wring his neck for what he’s doing to poor Miss Abbott and Seb.”
“Get in line, Samuel. I’ve got first dibs on him.” And he planned to see the bastard went to jail and the key was thrown away.
Out of the corner of his eye, Luc saw Samuel grin. “Thought so.”
“Don’t look so smug, Samuel. I’m marrying that woman, come hell or high water.”
“’Bout time, boss.”
Luc grunted at Samuel and held his breath until Eva stopped about ten feet from the door. Slowly, she placed the box on the ground and stepped back a couple of paces. “Atta girl, keep going. Get out of there—”
He wished there’d been some way to know what the note had directed her to do. The suspense was killing him. She stopped again, palms spread to show she was unarmed. What did they expect, for Chrissakes? That she’d go in guns blazing?
“Boss, there’s someone at the other window. That’s three.”
“She’s not moving. Get out of there, Eva. Come on, baby, leave now.” Adrenaline surged through him. Watching the woman he loved walking into the devil’s lair was wrong on every level. His muscles wanted to propel him down there and put his body between her and the line of fire. Against his screaming instinct, he pressed into the earth. She wouldn’t thank him for putting her life above Seb’s.
Light glinted off the barrel of the gun in the doorway as the shooter signaled Eva to come forward. Luc’s heart pounded and he swallowed the shout clawing to escape him. “No. Don’t go inside. For God’s sake, don’t give them another hostage.” The barrel rose and pointed directly at her.
She bent and retrieved the package, straightened, and stepped towards the house. Luc was halfway to his knees when Samuel grabbed his arm. “Wait, boss.
That was Seb I spotted through the other window.”
“Damn it, she’s going inside. I’ve got to—”
Samuel maintained an iron grip on his arm. “Wait, boss. Soon be dark, then we can get close. We’ll get them out.”
Chapter Eighteen
Eva sidled through the narrow opening allowed by the man behind the gun, and the door slammed shut, catching her skirt. The package was ripped from her hands and someone grabbed her arm and tossed her onto a wooden chair. A strip tore from her skirt and hung in the door. She held her breath, not daring to look and direct the kidnappers’ attention towards her pocket. Hand trembling, she slowly moved her fingers down to the torn patch. Cool and solid, the bulge of her gun remained out of sight in her pocket.
She shifted in her seat and eased upright. Shaking fingers brushed hair off her face. In the corner of the flagstone floor below a window, Seb lay trussed with heavy rope. Pale and bruised around the face, he didn’t move.
Was that blood on his cheek? In the rapidly dimming light, it was impossible to tell.
“Seb, are you okay?”
A solid body stepped in front and blocked him from her view. Under his right arm he held the dummy package. She tipped her head back and stared into Stefan’s bearded face. Cold, dark eyes pinned her to the seat and all the air whooshed from her lungs.
Stefan. Mind blank, she stared at him numbly.
“He not be okay for long if you don’t do what you are told.” His heavy accent added menace to his threat.
Stefan must have had her under surveillance as soon as she crested that rise on the track. Thank goodness Luc had known where the cottage was. If he’d been in the Jeep when she pulled up, they’d probably have been shot before they got out of the car. Their strategy had bought her enough time to get into the cottage but she prayed Stefan wouldn’t open the box immediately.
In her peripheral vision, she saw him raise his left hand. Lamplight glinted on metal. He had a knife.
Stefan tossed the blade, caught it, hefted it and leaned in close. Cold, sharp metal pressed against the skin of her throat. “Be good if you want your boy safe. Understand, boss lady?”
If she nodded, would the knife cut her?
“Do you?” Stefan wanted an answer. She swallowed the lump of fear lodged in her throat and the knife tip stung like a bee. A trickle—of blood?—ran down her neck. She offered a breathless yes.
He flicked the knife away and wiped the blade on her skirt. “Good. Now, you stay there. If you good, I not tie you up. If bad, I kill him.” He jerked a thumb without looking at Seb’s prone body. “Did you tell anyone you were coming here?”
“You told me not to. Please—is Seb okay?”
“For now.” Stefan carried the box to the window and stepped over Seb’s prone body.
Footsteps rang on the flagstones behind but she didn’t dare turn her head.
“Hey, Stefan, this ain’t the deal I signed up for. You said no one would get hurt.”
Oh, God, it was Kowalski! Sleazebag. No wonder she had taken a dislike to him.
Stefan didn’t bother looking at the journalist. He stood to one side of the window and peered into the almost night outside. “Shut up, you fool. I told you, whatever it takes. That necklace is mine.” He moved back into the room and stood toe to toe with the reporter, his face thrust into the American’s. “What? Did you think I could say I want it and she would hand it over? American fool. I take back what is mine.”
“Sure, man, okay. Don’t sweat it.” Kowalski backed away, palms warding Stefan off. �
�I just want the story you promised me. It’s cool.” Stefan returned to look out through the other window.
Dissension in the ranks. How could she use that? Eva risked a quick look around the cottage. Three rooms, kitchen out back, bedroom behind her and the main room where they were grouped. Kowalski had come from the bedroom. Was there anyone in the kitchen?
Directing her attention to Stefan, she asked, “May I have a glass of water, please?”
“What you think this is? Hotel?” Stefan’s gruff tone boded badly for Seb and her. He had to be her target if she got the chance. Kowalski didn’t seem likely to hurt, let alone kill, anyone.
“I’ll get it, Stefan.” Kowalski scrambled for the back room and a moment later she heard water gushing from a faucet and the low murmur of voices.
Three of them. Who was the third? Could it be young Ben? He was Seb’s friend and the least likely to be a kidnapper. She bided her time and convinced herself they were going to get out of here alive.
Kowalski came back and handed her a glass filled to overflowing with rust-coloured water. It slopped over her skirt as he shoved it at her without a word and retreated into the bedroom. A pistol hung from his right hand as though he had little idea what to do with it. Eva placed the glass under her chair without drinking. At least she now knew there were three men to contend with.
Arrogant but cautious, the Russian surveyed the terrain in front of the cottage. What if he spotted Luc and the boys? Would he kill Seb and her straight away? He slipped the tip of his knife beneath the thick twine of her package and sawed it off. It fell on Seb’s chest. Heart in her mouth, she tried to swallow her fear. Seb hadn’t moved. She had to be strong for both of them. She had to be strong until Luc rescued them. Because she’d done what he’d told her not to do. Refusal to go into the cottage hadn’t been an option. Not at the point of a gun. Now, the best way she could help was to distract Stefan.
“Did you set fire to the shed?”
“Of course.” Stefan tossed the answer her way without bothering to look.
“What did you hope to achieve?”
“Frighten you away so I could look for necklace. But you wouldn’t go to Martineau’s home so I went to airport early on day you took joy flight and nicked oil line on helicopter. Gave me most of evening to search.”
At least she knew who was responsible for the accidents but knowledge wasn’t her main goal. She wanted his attention on her to give Luc the best chance of approaching undetected. Eva edged forward on her chair. “Stefan, why do you think the necklace is yours?”
“Not think, know it is.”
“It belonged to my ancestor, Josephine Dubois. How could it be yours?”
Stefan cast her a look filled with loathing and menace and she shrank back in her chair.
“It was given to her by her lover, Ivan. He had no right to give away Russian Imperial jewels to his whore.”
Whore? Anger rose at the slur on her ancestor’s character. She fisted her hands in her lap and gritted her teeth. How quick men were to label women who dared to love freely, outside of marriage. Like her. Was she carrying Luc’s child? Was there another life at risk? She pressed her hands to her stomach and promised her maybe-child protection and love.
“You don’t know her husband didn’t purchase the necklace for her. He was a wealthy man.”
“I know truth. Woman in man’s bed destroys his honor. Ivan was a fool and a traitor to Mother Russia.” Stefan’s attention was firmly on her face as he dug in his pocket and withdrew Josephine’s diary. He waved it in her face with a flourish then slapped it on the table by her side.
An oil lamp spilled a small circle of light onto the table while the rest of the room grew dark. Corners filled with threatening shadows that twisted and jumped in macabre dance with each puff of wind over the lamp.
Stefan twitched the curtain into place and crossed to the table. He pulled out a chair, sat and lifted the package, weighing it in his hands. He shook it then placed it in front of him. “Okay, no one’s out there. You came alone. Let’s check the contents.” He ripped off the brown paper wrapping.
Eva shifted on the seat so her body shielded her hand movements. She bunched up the material of her circular skirt into her left hand and felt for the pocket opening with her right. Her fingers closed around the handle of her father’s service revolver. An Abbott didn’t allow others to do their work.
Stefan fumbled with the string on the inner wrapping, grabbed his knife and slit it open, revealing the locked jewelry box Eva had selected to serve as the dummy case. Since neither of them had seen the real necklace, she hoped Stefan expected something similar to what she’d given him.
“It’s locked. Where is key?” His black eyes bored into her, demanding she surrender it. He pushed back his chair and stood. “Well?” His gaze flicked to her chest and the gold necklace that slipped out of sight between her breasts. Did he think the key was on her chain? Please don’t let him frisk me.
“I...it’s... I forgot to bring it.” Could he tell she was lying?
Luc had suggested leaving the key on her kitchen table beside the ball of twine. “Anything to slow him down.”
His gaze narrowed on her. He drew the knife toward him, picked it up and tapped it in his palm. “You forgot?”
She nodded. “I was anxious about Seb and I left it on the table at home.”
“Humph. No matter.” He turned back to the box, inserted the tip of the knife under the lid and twisted. The lid sprang open and the lock flew through the air and landed with a metallic thud on the floor between them. He pulled the oil lamp closer and prodded the satin bag she used to protect her silk stockings. His lips pulled up in what might pass for a smile. “I know you have it all the time. Like you, I would not admit if I had it. Now—I wait too long for this moment.”
He pulled open the drawstring of the bag and shoved his big hand inside.
Eva tightened her grip on her revolver. She inhaled and exhaled as Luc had taught her to do, visualising the shot she would make when Stefan discovered the deception.
Seconds slowed into micro-seconds as though she watched a movie flick past, frame by slow frame. Stefan frowned and withdrew his hand from the bag, his big fist clenched around the contents. He dropped the bag and leaned down close to the lamplight.
Eva eased off the chair and backed towards the door, eyes fixed on his profile. His big fist opened. There, in the middle of his palm, lay a single emerald on a gold chain. Her mother’s necklace and the only emerald she’d ever owned.
For one frozen moment, Stefan and the necklace formed a tableau she would never forget.
With a roar, he hurled the jewelry into the corner. It whizzed past her head. His fist closed around his knife. “Bitch. I want Imperial necklace. Where is it?”
Kowalski and Ben raced into the room, the boy unarmed. He cast a look across at Seb and went green around the gills.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded at the box. “In the lid, the key.”
Stefan glared at her, his eyes never leaving her face as he reached for the box. He raised it to chest height and flicked a glance inside. “What is key for?”
“The necklace—the Imperial necklace—is too valuable to be kept at home. It’s in a bank safety deposit box.”
“Why you give other one? What purpose?”
“As a sign of good faith. It’s Sunday. The bank isn’t open on the weekend.”
“So, we wait. In morning, you go to bank and bring it here. If not, young boss dead.”
She whipped up the gun, clapped both hands around it and pointed it at Stefan’s heart. This close there was no way she would miss. “Stay back, all of you. You should have believed me, Stefan. I told you I don’t have it.”
“I not believe you. Now, I kill boy. Then you.” He lunged towards Seb.
Eva aimed and squeezed the trigger.
Chapter Nineteen
Darkness provided cover as Luc, Samuel, and three of the boys crawled up
to the house on the blind side. Luc flattened himself against the wall and peered around. There was one gun in this corner room and at least one more rifle inside. He peered across the house front to the far side. A patch of black, deeper than the night, slipped into place beneath the far window. Samuel was in place. It wouldn’t be much longer.
Hugging the wall, Samuel edged closer to the window while he commando-crawled below the window on his side and took up a position between the window and door. Surprise was crucial. Samuel peered around the ledge, ready to make the call when he saw what was going on inside. Faint light lit his face from within the room. Luc tensed, waiting for Samuel’s signal.
A gunshot exploded inside. Luc spun around and kicked in the door. It splintered and gave way, banging against the side wall. He charged through, gun at the ready, as Samuel smashed the window glass and trained his gun on a figure that emerged from the back of the house. He yelled, “Drop it!” and a small firearm clattered to the floor.
Eva was standing, smoking gun in hand and a fierce expression on her face. Like a lioness.
In the corner, Seb lay bound and unmoving. Standing between Eva and him, Stefan Lutchenko clutched his left shoulder. Blood oozed between his fingers. His left hand released its grip on a knife. The blade fell, point first and clanged on the flagstones.
Luc trained his gun on the Russian and moved between Eva and the kidnapper.
Seb groaned and tossed his head from side to side. The sound seemed to release Eva from her warrior stance. She raced past Lutchenko without looking at him and dropped to her knees beside the boy. She eased him up and rested his head on her lap and stroked his cheek. “Seb, are you hurt? Speak to me.”
Luc kicked Lutchenko’s knife towards Eva. “Use that to cut Seb’s ropes. And you”—he turned to the Russian. What he wouldn’t give for five minutes alone, bare knuckles, man to man with him—“Attempted murder and kidnap—you can look forward to a very long jail sentence. You won’t be seeing the outside of a jail until you’re a very old man. As for these other two, aiding and abetting will do for starters.”
Winning the Heiress' Heart Page 17
