Niko's Stolen Bride

by Lindy Corbin

  Her gaze latched onto his and he found himself drawn into the brown-green of her stare. “Would it be that simple for you?” she asked with the drip of acid in her tone.

  He knew it wouldn’t. Healing would come slowly over many months. Sometimes, even years later the pain could still sneak up and surprise him in a weak moment. Unwilling to open that old wound, he hedged. “I’m not you.”

  She stood, facing him, her gaze locking with his as a flush reddened the delicate peach of her skin. “Today was supposed to be my wedding day. I’m supposed to just forget it? I spent months planning the ceremony by the ocean, the flowers, my dress…”

  Two steps and he was there, one arm sliding around her waist as he pulled her against his chest. He pushed his other hand under the silkiness of her golden brown hair, cradling her head into his shoulder. “Stop,” he commanded softly. “Don’t think about it.”

  Good advice for himself as well, he thought with grim humor. Her body against his was an enticing pleasure. The softness of her breasts flattened against him, her abdomen pressed into his hips, her legs tangled with his all roused some primal instinct to pull her so close they were inseparable. With an effort, he kept his grasp light. She had other things to be concerned about than his uncanny receptiveness to the slightest physical contact with her.

  “How can I think of anything else?” she bit out as she placed her palms against his chest and pushed out of his arms. “It’s humiliating. They’ll all know about Frank.”

  “Then we will give them something else to talk about. Come away with me,” he urged.

  She ran a hand through her hair and seemed to stare at the slow smile that had edged across the corners of his mouth. “They’ll think we ran away together,” she said, desperation edging into her tone.

  “Perfect.”

  The look she shot him was deadly. “I’ll look like a slut who left Frank to chase some guy I just met. You may not care what they think, but I have to live with these people the rest of my life.”

  “Would it be a bad thing if your family thought you were having an affair with me? Let’s make them wonder who was really left at the altar.”

  Kara was silent for a moment. “We could never pull it off and, frankly, I’m not sure I want to try. Once they see us together, they’ll realize there’s nothing between us.”

  She was denying what she’d felt when they kissed. Denying him. He wouldn’t allow it. “I disagree. You liked me well enough when we met in the bar.”

  “I was half drunk,” she protested.

  “You weren’t drunk this afternoon.”

  It was a low blow. He knew it as soon as he said it.

  “I was upset.” She stepped closer to him, the lines of her body so tense that she trembled. She jabbed a finger into his chest. “You’re just like your sister. You’ll say anything, do anything to get what you want. If you could get past your big Greek macho ego for one moment, you’d know that was all there was to it. I told you, it is over.”

  He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly through his lips. It was understandable that she’d jump to the conclusion that he was cut from the same cloth as his half-sister. Far from it. Not only had they been born from different mothers, he’d often wondered if he was more American than Greek. His thought processes didn’t line up with Elaina’s or his half-brother Gabriel, both raised by his father in Athens. Or Kara’s either apparently. “I’ve never forced a woman. Never had to.”

  “Then don’t make me the first. Take me back to Sanibel.”

  Her voice was uneven there in the darkness. He wished he could read her expression. His muscles strained against the need to drag her into his arms and remind her how good it felt there. He managed to get one word out from between clenched teeth. “No.”

  The force with which he spoke seemed to rock her for a moment before she recovered. “Are you insane? This is kidnapping.”

  He gave a sharp laugh. “Hardly. You’re cruising the Caribbean on a luxury yacht. People saw you come aboard under your own power. Who is going to believe you’re unwilling?”

  “What exactly are you talking about, Niko? My willingness to accept a free cruise or to be your bed partner?”

  She was smart. And accurate. He wrapped his hands around her upper arms, the back of his thumbs brushing against the softness of her breasts under her thin jacket. “That part is your decision. The rest is mine.”

  She jerked her arms from his hold then turned and stepped away, out of the shelter of the side walls of the ship. The wind picked up her hair, blowing it about her shoulders and nearly tearing the words she said into the night.

  “I’m not ready to move on, Niko. It’s too soon and that’s not fair to you. Let me go.”

  He laughed, a quick hard sound that sounded odd to his ears. “I’m far beyond caring about what is fair.”

  He stepped up behind her, caught her flying hair in one hand and pushed it to the side to expose the curve of her neck. He pressed his lips to her nape, pushing her jacket aside to feather light kisses across her shoulder. Gooseflesh rose under his touch and he soothed it with the warmth of his mouth, open against her, teasing, as he savored the flavor of her skin on his tongue. “I know that you’re vulnerable and I am taking advantage of you.”

  “Then stop.” Her tone was severe.

  “I would if I could.”

  He leaned into her, merging the heat of their bodies, allowing her to feel the heaviness of his desire against her soft, rounded backside. His breath quickened as he felt a slight increase of her weight against him. He yearned to move against her, pull her close as he had when they’d danced and have her melt into him until they were one. Her perfume filled his nostrils as he closed his eyes and blindly sought the tender skin of her neck again.

  He felt her slight shudder and his focus narrowed to nothing but the moment and this woman. “I want you now, even if you cry out Frank’s name in the depths of your passion.”

  “And what you want, you get?”

  He barely caught the sound of the whispered words. “Not always, but this time yes, I think I must.” Circling her waist with one arm, he clasped the narrow curve of her side below the rib cage and used the leverage to turn her to face him. She refused to look up, staring steadfast at the center of his chest.

  “You know I can’t. I need to sort things out. I just want to go home.”

  The strain in her voice touched some inner core in him that her anger hadn’t. She was close to breaking. This strong, beautiful woman had been brought to her knees, made fragile by the actions of a dishonorable man. He wanted to take the pain and fear from her, to replace the regrettable memories of the last days with good ones. He dragged one of her arms free from where she had them wrapped around her, sliding his palm against the cool knit of her jacket until he reached her fingers. Slowly, he lifted her hand to his lips, kissing each slim finger in turn before turning her hand to press a kiss in her palm. When he touched his lips to the sensitive turn of her wrist, her fingers clenched on his. Tugging on her arm with gentle persuasion, he pulled her close.

  “I can’t wait, glykia mou. And neither can you.” He felt the slight tremor that passed through her though she didn’t speak. “This moment will never come again. Whether this connection between us is for tonight, tomorrow or a week, I don’t want to fight it anymore.”

  He released her fingers and splayed his hands across the soft fabric that covered her back, massaging the tense muscles there with gentle movements. “Stay with me.” He whispered the words against her lips, waiting for the answer with his mouth centimeters above hers. His grip tightened, his whole body tense with the need to haul her against him and demand that she stay, but he waited. It was her decision, unless she decided against his wishes. Then it would be his great pleasure to convince her to see it his way.

  She jerked back, breaking his hold. The wind rushed between them, cooling his skin. She turned her face up to him, her gaze searching as if trying to read his expression in
the dim light. “You can’t keep me on this ship, Niko. As soon as we reach Nassau, I’m going straight to the airport.”

  Disappointment flowed through him, replaced by tension and regret. She didn’t trust him. Frank had done this to her, made her suspicious and wary. He shrugged, pretending a lack of concern. “If you must.”

  “If I don’t, we’ll both regret it.”

  He stared at the stubborn jut of her chin as her hair whipped around her shoulders. Perhaps she was being the wise one here. Yet, with the taste of her skin on his lips and the sensation of her softness pressed against him, it was hard to think rationally. He had the gut feeling that he had just failed at something very important. He wanted both to run from her as fast as possible and to never leave her side.

  He sighed, running his fingers through his hair in irritation. “I’m regretting it already.”

  Chapter 6

  Kara jerked awake, gasping as the bed tilted under her and she rolled to the edge. She surged upward, disoriented in the darkness. Voices sounded in the stairway outside her room.

  “Niko!” someone shouted urgently. “A boat. Coming fast. No lights.”

  Kara switched on the bedside lamp and slid from the bed. Elaina hadn’t packed night wear for her, so she’d lain down in her clothes. It took her a moment to shake herself awake, then she wrenched open the door.

  Niko was coming from his room, pulling a pair of jeans up over his hips. She caught a glimpse of dark briefs and an expanse of torso partly covered by the tee shirt slung over one shoulder. Her breath caught. He was model perfect with sculpted abdominal muscles, shoulders and biceps that would make any body-builder envious. And any woman drool.

  His gaze met hers briefly as he pressed a button on the intercom panel near the stairwell. “What’s happening,” he demanded.

  Eduardo’s voice came through the system, the strain in his tone magnified electronically. “Cigarette boat. Came out of nowhere. Followed when I changed direction. I think they’re going to try to board.”

  “Where’s George?”

  “I am here,” the other man called as he appeared from the lower deck, a pair of shoes dangling from his long fingers. On his belt hung a leather holster that held a long, narrow knife, its carved handle shot with silver.

  Kara’s eyes locked on the knife before she looked up to meet his unreadable black gaze. He bent and quickly slid his feet into the shoes he held. Normally, she would be embarrassed, appearing rumpled with her hair wild, but the intensity of the men’s actions spoke volumes. They had no time to be concerned with her.

  Something was very wrong.

  Niko hit the button again. “Where are we?”

  Eduardo told him and he cursed harshly under his breath. “Send out the distress call on the VHF radio, Channel 16. Maybe the Defense Force will pick it up. George and I will prepare.”

  Niko bit out a few short orders to George in rapid-fire Greek. The younger man whipped around, taking the stairs two at a time as Niko turned back toward Kara.

  “The Defense Force?” The words hung in the air between them as he pulled the shirt he carried over his head and straightened it over the flatness of his stomach.

  His shoulders squared as he turned toward her. The planes of his face were hard, his eyes shadowed into deep pools by the irregular light. “The Royal Bahamas Defense Force. Basically, they’re like the U.S. Coast Guard.”

  Her small gasp must have been audible to him.

  Catching her hands with his, he pressed his lips to the backs of each before he spoke.

  “Stay here. It will be all right.”

  Her fingers clenched on his as dread pounded out a rhythm in her ears, then she released him. She would not cling. “What’s happening?”

  “Nothing good, but we can handle it. We are well prepared.”

  “Who–?”

  “No time.” He shook his head, his frown so stern that her questions died in her throat.

  “Stay in the room,” he repeated. “The ship will pitch as we take evasive maneuvers, so lay on the floor. I don’t want you to be hurt.”

  She stretched out a hand to him, but he was gone, bounding up the stairs, barely hitting the first landing before he disappeared. Stepping back into the room, she jerked her arms into her jacket then searched for her shoes, pulling them on with hands that shook. As she balanced on one leg to tie the laces of her tennis shoes, she heard the change in tempo of the motors and the ship swung crazily to one side. The door slammed shut and she fell against the wall, her shoulder smashing into the wood panel.

  Kara straightened, rubbing her shoulder. She stared at the door, feeling the blood drain from her face. Preparations, evasive maneuvers, a distress call. She’d read the headlines and feared she knew what it all meant.

  Boarders. Drug smugglers bent on taking over the yacht. Some crazed would-be Captain Hook looking for rich and easy prey. Someone was trying to take the Black Magic.

  Pirates.

  Were they armed, desperate, dangerous? How far would they go to gain such a prize? What would they do with its crew? Or a passenger?

  As she yanked the laces tight on her other shoe, her gaze fell on the anklet that Niko had given her. Hopefully, it would bring them the protection that he’d expected. In the bathroom, she ran a brush through her hair and grabbed a band to confine its length.

  A shouted command rang out from above. The ship’s engine roared as the Black Magic swerved, righted, then swerved again. A flat, hard report sounded, like a gun shot.

  Stuck below, Kara could only guess at what was happening. She hated the confinement. What difference would it make whether she was below or topside if the ship were taken?

  She staggered as she made for the door. Falling against it, she barely held herself upright as the ship changed direction again. Yanking it open, she crossed the landing to the stairs.

  As she emerged into the main cabin, she realized that she couldn’t go out on the open deck. She risked falling overboard as the ship continued to shift course, but more importantly, Niko would kill her for disobeying him.

  A sharp yell came from the stern. She swung in that direction, staring hard through the dark tinting of the sliding doors. A brilliant spotlight flared, swung and shot a beam of blue light across the black water. It pinpointed a low-slung boat a hundred yards behind them. Spray shot up behind it, testimony to its speed. It looked powerful and fast, reminding her of racing boats she’d seen on television. Like the Black Magic, it was painted some dark color that blended with the waves.

  A blast sounded, like steam released from an overheated boiler. The world burst into a dazzling glow of bright white. Kara sucked in her breath, waiting for the explosion. For a second, she saw the outline of Niko’s body against the light. With his height and broad shoulders, he was unmistakable. Her fear spiked. He was out there on deck, unprotected.

  The burning glow seemed to hang in the sky for long seconds before it faded into a trail of spent smoke. Everything went dark again. Nearly blinded by the change in light, she stood in the middle of the room while gunshots rattled outside with a muted clatter like caps from a child’s pistol. They whined, thudding into the ship’s hull.

  This couldn’t be happening. It was like a scene from an action movie. She’d never enjoyed watching them and didn’t want to be a part of one now.

  The ship changed course again, zigzagging through the dark sea. She lurched against a sofa, reaching out to catch herself against the padded arm before falling onto the cushions. Her knee banged painfully into the low coffee table that sat in front of it. Twisting, she searched the dark outer deck, straining desperately to be sure Niko hadn’t been thrown overboard.

  For a moment, she could no longer see him. An iron band of fear tightened around her chest and she struggled to breath. Then she spotted him near the railing, one hand grasping the smooth, rounded surface, the muscles in his arm standing out with strain. She heard his voice as he shouted an order to someone. George, most likely, just
out of her range of vision.

  It was sheer instinct that made her push up from the sofa and start toward the glass doors. She had to do something. Anything.

  The ship swung wildly once more. She stumbled, going to one knee. The sudden sharp pair brought more coherent thought. If she went bumbling out on deck, she would be a liability. Yet, she couldn’t bear to retreat below again.

  The pilot house door was to her left. The Black Magic was plowing straight ahead while the roar of the following boat seemed to be falling back. She sprang up, ran for the door, feeling down the edge until she found and grasped the handle. Wrenching it open, she stepped inside. The heavy metal panel slammed shut behind her as the ship tilted again.

  Eduardo was at the controls. Reeling, she fell to one knee to avoid crashing into his chair. He leaned to swivel the cushioned leather chair next to him toward her and held it steady.

  “Sit.”

  The one terse word was welcome enough. Slamming into the chair, she rotated it forward and grabbed for the padded edge of the control panel. Digging her fingers into the soft leather, she steadied herself and took a deep breath that shuddered through her.

  “They’re sh–shooting at us,” she said when she could speak again.

  “I thought I heard a couple of hits. We’ll have to get that repaired.”

  Something about his tone struck an odd note. She didn’t expect him to be as frightened as she was, but some level of concern would be understandable. “You’ve been through this before?”

  “A few times. Black Magic is a fast yacht and we’ve never been boarded. Always a first time, though.”

  She stared at the older man, slowly registering his grin. “You’re enjoying this?”

  His grin widened at the note of incredulity in her tone. “Perhaps, just a little.”

  If she’d ever doubted it before, she now knew the truth. Men were crazy.

  The thunderous boom and whoosh of air came again, and the glow lit the night sky at least half a minute before falling behind them. Ahead of them, gray in the brightness, lay nothing but empty ocean.