“The what?”
This time, Kane tipped the glass back and finished his drink. “The mob. Or one of them.”
The mob? Holly’s gut told her that the mob arriving at the same time they were sent to steal the necklace wasn’t a coincidence.
So, what had Mira Burke neglected to tell them, and how was the mob involved?
Chapter Five
“Beautiful day to be on the water, isn’t it?” Kane asked.
After the revelation about Enzo, they’d both been quiet, and she suspected his train of thought mirrored hers. Still, he didn’t say anything, and neither did she. Not yet. She needed time to watch and listen.
And besides, the terror of being on the water—so much water and who knew what lurked beneath the surface—got in the way of her normal thought processes.
“It’s gorgeous,” she replied as she gripped the edge of the bench seat and tried to appear relaxed despite the terror that raced through her every time Kane adjusted a line or the sails flapped. For what she was sure was the hundredth time since they left the dock, she wished she had a lifejacket on. None of the others wore them, and if she wanted to fit in, she needed to suck it up.
Kane seemed oblivious to her fear, and despite her snafu and the encounter with organized crime, this was the happiest she’d ever seen him. Periodically, he closed his eyes and held his face to the sun, oblivious to the fact that the wind had blown his hair into an unrecognizable mess. Almost humming with pleasure, he nudged their rudder into a better position.
Yes, happy. It was unnerving and appealing, and she hated to admit it, but if he had longer hair and a tri-corner hat, he’d be the hottest commander on the water.
“Want to take the tiller?” he asked.
She, on the other hand, would have been the passenger who didn’t know jack about the water. Didn’t care about the water. And wanted to do nothing more than stay in her cabin and ignore the vast amounts of H2O surrounding the boat. “No thanks,” she said, toasting him with her drink. “I’d probably wreck us.”
“On what?” he asked, arms open wide. There were a few small islands off the port side, and the other boats trailed in their wake, but none were within striking distance.
She could see herself managing to hit something anyway. “We might lose.”
“Who cares?”
“We might lose to Enzo.”
“Good point.” He adjusted the tiller. The front sail caught the wind, and the boat sped up, rising on its edge.
Holly squeaked again before she could stop herself.
“You okay?”
She nodded. “I’m fine. I’m fine. Just do what you have to do.”
“You’re not enjoying this,” he said.
What gave it away? Her grim smile, the white knuckles, or the way she squeezed her eyes shut when fear overwhelmed her desire to be brave. “I’m fine,” she managed to say.
His right brow rose. “I might believe you if you hadn’t said, ‘I’m fine’ three times.”
“Just get us to the buoy and back in one piece.”
“Wow. Now that’s a ringing endorsement for the joy of sailing,” he said, adjusting the tiller so the boat slowed, and the edge fell, sloshing water over the railing and onto them both. “Better?”
“Suit yourself.” But she breathed easier. Not that she planned to admit it, because she’d have to confess about her inability to swim.
You. Are. An. Idiot. The voice inside her head told her.
She had to fit in, and she needed Kane to fit in—not watch out for her. She could take care of herself.
Shutting her eyes, she let the warmth of the late afternoon sun seep into her muscles until the tension eased. One more deep breath and she opened them again, ready to work. She looked over Kane’s shoulder at the competition trailing behind them. Enzo and Rachel were gaining.
“Can we go any faster?” she asked.
“If you were a sailor—maybe,” Kane replied.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m on the water. There’s drinks. I have half-decent company—”
“Gee. Thanks.”
He continued as if she hadn’t spoken—“and I don’t have to pretend to be something I’m not. This is as close to perfection as it gets.”
“As long as you’re happy,” she said. Enzo was closer now, leaving the other six boats far behind as they caught up to the Blind Ambition.
She wished she wasn’t scared. She wished she could swim.
Enzo and Rachel came alongside. “You said you could sail,” Enzo shouted over the wind.
Kane shrugged as if he didn’t have a care on the world, but Holly knew better. No one liked eating crow—especially an HRS agent. His hands tightened on the tiller, making the muscles in his shoulders and neck stand out. It was his eyes that made her gasp. They’d gone to flint again.
Not a commander, she reassessed her earlier opinion. A pirate.
But he held both his temper and the lead until Enzo edged closer, his boat inches from theirs.
“What the hell are you doing?” Kane shouted, adjusting the rigging so the boat veered away from the Glory.
Enzo followed, eyes narrowed. Rachel sat in the cockpit, her pale skin almost gray.
She was scared, Holly realized. If Rachel was frightened, then Enzo was out of control. “Be careful,” she shouted. “He doesn’t seem stable. Maybe we should speed up.”
“You think?” Kane adjusted the sails again, keeping ahead of the other boat, but barely.
Enzo didn’t let up. Gaining an advantage in the breeze, he left them in his wake. Holly let go a sigh of relief. “I thought he was going to be stupid.”
“Don’t underestimate him.”
Despite the heat of the day, a shiver raced through Holly’s spine. She stole a glance behind them. The other boats were almost out of sight. “Do you think he’d hurt us? He seems determined to win.”
“This a political fundraiser, and he must have an agenda, so I’d like to say no, but still… Coming about,” he shouted.
Holly ducked as the boom swung over her head. The main sail reversed direction, snapping when it filled with air again. “What are you doing?”
“Heading back to port. Never underestimate a mobster’s ability to be a competitive idiot.”
As much as she hated losing, Kane was right. Besides, this wasn’t a pleasure trip. This was work, and antagonizing another guest was only going to make them stand out.
As if on cue, the Glory came about as well, trailing in their wake but gaining.
“Hang on,” Kane said, the boat rising on edge as he spoke.
Holly grabbed the rail as the wind whipped hard and her braid loosened. Strands of her hair beat against her cheeks.
“It’s okay. It’s okay,” she whispered the chant. “Please don’t wreck. Please don’t wreck.”
“Watch out,” Kane shouted, but Holly sensed it wasn’t directed at her.
She peeked through her lashes to see Enzo on their tail.
“Coming about,” Kane shouted. Holly ducked, and the small boat took a sharp tack toward a cluster of small islands they’d spotted earlier. Enzo smirked as they sailed out of his path.
Maybe this was enough. Maybe he’d leave.
Her gut told her otherwise. Kane had challenged him, and someone like Enzo took that as a personal affront that had to be dealt with. The thought no sooner flickered through her mind than their adversary tacked to follow.
“What an ass,” Kane said, hands clenching and unclenching.
“What now? Race back?”
He shook his head. “Not with you in the boat. We hide.”
Holly watched as the other boat rounded the far side of one of the bigger islands. “I think he’s leaving.”
“He’s not. Hang on.” The boat lifted on edge for a third time, and they headed between the small specks of land.
Holly swallowed down the fear that rose in her throat. “Are you insane?” Her fingers ached from grippi
ng the railing. “This is a boat. Not a car.”
“I’ve seen Enzo wreck a boat so he could win. He tried to cut off a competitor, miscalculated, and ended up with his bow in the side of their boat.”
“We’re not even in the race anymore.”
“He won’t care. We pissed him off and, to Enzo, that means payback. He won’t be happy until he scares the hell out of someone.”
“How can anyone get away with this kind of behavior?”
“Money. Power. Take your pick.” He pointed at a small island to the left. “I’m not putting you in danger over a race. We need to get ahead of him, and I think we can conceal ourselves over there.”
Kane was scared, she realized. He was scared for her.
That frightened her more than Enzo. She’d seen her partner nervous. Annoyed. Pissed. But this was new.
Her mouth went dry, and she started searching for the life jackets. No sign of Enzo as Kane angled the boat toward the small sanctuary.
“Faster. Faster,” he muttered under his breath.
She lifted up the top of a plastic crate next to her bench seat. Grease-coated rags. A jumper cable. No lifejacket.
The Glory rounded the end of the other island, her main sail open as far as possible—her keel so high that both Rachel and Enzo sat on the edge of the boat, legs hanging downward into the cockpit.
“Kane!”
“I see them.”
They were impossible to miss, since they were on a crash course with Ambition.
The Ambition jerked as Kane dodged the other vessel.
“Coming about,” he shouted over the flap of the sails.
Holly ducked and slid to the other side of the boat, but as their boat cut through the water, there was the sound of splintering and the Ambition ground to a halt, tossing Holly to the rear of the cockpit and against Kane.
What the hell? Had they hit something?
A metallic screech cut through the confusion, and with a groan, the mast swayed forward. Backward. Forward again. Holly stared in wide-eyed horrors as it fell toward them.
Before she could scream, Kane picked her up and tossed her into the Atlantic.
…
“Holly!” Kane yelled her name as he surfaced, spitting cold ocean water. He’d tossed her overboard as the mast came down, then followed. The last thing he’d seen before he hit the water was Enzo’s face. Mouth open and eyes wide in shock.
Kane heard a shout and caught a glimpse of his partner on the other side of the listing boat. She looked panicked, but otherwise, she seemed unhurt. Better pissed and soggy than a concussion from being brained by a steel mast. Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught a final glimpse of Enzo as he sailed away.
He was sure the mobster hadn’t meant for them to wreck, but that didn’t mean he was going to stay and help. In Enzo’s pea-sized brain, that might mean accountability—not something people of his affiliation were known well for.
Heat rose from Kane’s core, radiating outward and keeping him warm in the frigid waters. Screw the mission. Once he and Holly were back at the mansion, he was going to kill Enzo if he ever got hold of him.
Holly’s shout became a shriek, and he put the need for retribution on hold. He had bigger worries. He rounded the bow and spotted her flailing in the shallow water, gulping saltwater in her panic.
He side-stroked over, his feet touching the bottom on the third pull of his arms through the water. There was rock beneath his feet, and he noticed the abrupt change in the color of the water from a dark blue to lighter blue—indications of a shallow peninsula of the edge of the tiny piece of land.
Well, that explained what happened. They’d hit bottom.
Holly continued to scream and thrash.
Good grief. “Stand up,” he shouted, making his way to her side.
Somewhere in her fright, she must have heard him. The thrashing ceased, and she rose, the water coming to her shoulders but no higher. She stared up at him. Blond hair sticking to her skin. Blue shirt floating about her with her eyes wide and wild. Her breath came in small gasps.
“Are you going to live?” he asked.
She took a single, deep breath, and the fright disappeared with a speed that made him wonder if he’d misread her. Before him was the confident partner that he knew and sometimes wanted to strangle.
“What do we do?” she asked. “Can we call for help?”
He shook his head. “No mast. No antenna.” He pulled his soaked cell out of his pocket. “Is yours onboard?”
She shook her head. “Back in the room. I didn’t want it to get wet. Someone will see us. Right?”
If they’d been on the edge of the island chain and facing the sound, perhaps. That wasn’t the case, and there was the issue of them being off course. “Maybe, but it’s going to be hard with the sails down.”
“I take it Enzo isn’t going to let anyone know what happened?”
Enzo? He was an ass, and once they were rescued, Kane planned to beat the crap out of him for putting Holly in danger. “Not today. Tomorrow. Probably.”
Any longer and the mission would be over.
Next to them, the boat groaned, listing sideways. Enough talk. Unless he acted fast, they wouldn’t have any supplies for the night. He grabbed one of the ropes hanging over the edge. “Get to shore. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“We can’t stay here? The boat’s dry.”
“See how she’s leaning?” he asked, pointing toward the wrecked craft. “She’s on the edge of a drop off, with a hole in her hull and filling fast. One wrong move and she’ll slide into deeper water. So no.”
“I can help,” Holly said.
The boat slid toward them, the weight pushing her on the slick rock.
“Shit.” He dragged her out of harm’s way. “Get. To. Shore.”
“No. We’re partners.”
Now she choose to play with others? Figured. She never listened, but now wasn’t the time to argue. “Wait here, and be ready to catch.” Using the tangle of sail and rope hanging over the side of the boat, he scaled the craft, landing in the cockpit.
The boat slid again, this time tilting toward the deeper water.
Hurry. Hurry. Hurry.
He did not want to be onboard, or anywhere near her, when she sank. He tossed the remaining food into the small, plastic ice chest. “Heads up,” he shouted, tossing it over the rail toward Holly.
There was a splash. “Got it,” she yelled.
Making his way down into the already flooding cabin, Kane located the few blankets provided. They were wet.
“Dammit.” He jammed them under his arm anyway. With luck, they could start a fire and dry them. The ship slid a few more feet.
Grabbing the first aid and rescue kit from the storage space under the bench seat, he made his way back to the deck. The ship tilted. This time, there was no stopping it. He jumped overboard, landing next to Holly.
“Is that it?” she asked.
“It is. Now go. Go. Go.”
The panic in his voice set her in motion, and he followed her as she struggled through the water, the growing suction of the boat lifting her off her feet. He leaned against the current and caught her by the waist before she was swept toward the sinking craft. She didn’t argue but kept one hand on the cooler and the other around his neck.
He had to get them out of the water. His focused on the shore still thirty feet away and pushed forward, not daring to look backward.
Slowly, the water level dropped as he walked. Behind them, the boat gave a final groan and rumble as it sank, expelling the remaining air.
He stopped mid-step, a maelstrom of emotions warred within. Shame at losing the boat. Regret he had let Enzo get to him. Relief that Holly was safe.
“You can put me down now,” she said, her voice muffled by his shoulder.
He tightened his hold on her, letting the final emotion win the battle. This was what counted, he reminded himself as the warmth of her skin touched him through the chill of t
he water.
“Kane?”
“Of course.” He set her on her feet.
She released her hold around his neck, but instead of letting go, her hand slid down his arm, and her fingers laced through his.
Hand in hand, they waded to the shore. Once her feet were on dry land, Holly set the cooler down, released her grip, and flopped into the dark sand. Kane took a seat beside her, setting the supplies he’d saved between them. There was nothing around them but water and a few pieces of land that were barely large enough to qualify as islands. No sign of the other sailboats.
From his vantage, the “island” they landed on appeared bigger than the others. Spanish moss hung from a small forest of dogwoods and sugar maples, and a trail of paw prints—raccoon or maybe possum—skirted the edge where water met land.
Not the worst location, but either way he sliced it, they were stranded.
Idiot.
He knew what he had to say. “Sorry I got you into this.”
“It’s not your fault,” Holly said with a shrug.
It didn’t work that way. “I’m the captain, so actually, it is.”
“It was a race that involved drinking. How were you to know that Enzo took it so seriously?”
No excuse, though he wished it were. “He’s a rich boy with no sense of right and wrong. That should have been my first clue. Even if he wasn’t, I shouldn’t have let him push me into this situation.”
“I think you did the right thing,” she said, patting his thigh. “If he’d hit us farther out, the boat would have sunk over deeper water, and we wouldn’t have had the chance to save anything.”
He smiled, glad that she could see the bright side even if it was hard for him to do so. “Thanks,” he replied.
“We lived. It’s a good day,” she said, lowering herself to her elbows, her face pointed toward to the sinking sun.
A good day? What was a bad one in her rose-colored world?
Shaking his head, Kane opened the rescue kit. There wasn’t much. Medical supplies. No matches. A thermal blanket.
And under the blanket—a flare gun.
Finally. He held it up like an award.
Holly shot upward. “Yes! How many cartridges?”
He dug inside the kit again. “One.”
Undercover With the Enemy Page 6
