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Kidnapped!

Page 15

by Jo Leigh


  “I have to get to the weapons, Tate.”

  “Find another way. I won’t be able to stand it if something happens to you.”

  He pulled her close, putting his arm under her neck, positioning himself so he could look into her eyes. “I’ll be here,” he said. “I won’t leave you.”

  She believed him as best she could. The closer they came to the island, the worse her fears were becoming. Michael tethered her to the earth, to sanity. If he were gone—

  “Hush,” he said. “Stay with me. Don’t be anywhere else but right here.”

  She nodded.

  He kissed her. It was long and languid and she touched his skin wherever her hand landed. In the days and nights that had sailed by, she’d learned the heaven of familiarity, the comfort of knowing she couldn’t make a mistake.

  She pleased him. She knew it, and it brought her an extraordinary confidence. If she could bring that feeling to her whole world…

  “A little help?”

  She looked at him, startled out of her reverie. “With what?”

  “Panties.”

  “I don’t think they would look that good on you, but, sure, give it a try.”

  “Oh, you’re hilarious.”

  “Come on, Michael,” she said, turning her head fetchingly to the side. “Haven’t you ever wanted to try a walk on the wild side?”

  “The masculine wild side, sure. Panties? That’s a big no.”

  “What a chicken. You’d probably look adorable.”

  “The last thing in the world I want to look like is adorable.”

  “Right. You’re a lumberjack and you’re—”

  “Hold it right there. You want to see some wild-side action? How does a little spanking sound?”

  “Hmm. Your bottom all red and rosy?”

  “Not mine.”

  “Oh, then no. It sounds terrible.”

  His mouth opened, but no sound emerged. Finally he just shook his head.

  “Don’t worry, Michael. You don’t have to understand. Just smile and say, ‘Yes, dear.’”

  “Yes, dear,” he said as he dutifully smiled. “But just for the record, this isn’t over.”

  “No?”

  “It’s just going to take me a while to figure out my strategy. I’m thinking a surprise visit in the middle of the night. Something kinky but not too startling.”

  “All for me?”

  He nodded.

  She pulled his head down so her mouth was an inch from his ear. “Add some leather to that mix, big guy, and I’m all in.”

  “Oh, shit,” he said as he got to his knees and pulled her into a kiss that went on and on.

  He didn’t have to remind her again about the whole panty situation. She got naked, fast, tossing her clothes somewhere away, and then she got him naked, too.

  By that time he was hard for her, hard all over. She liked to run her hands over his chest and feel the hard buds of his nipples beneath her palms. He liked it when she tweaked him there, and she was happy to oblige.

  He’d figured out a lot of her favorite things, too. Like now, when he used two fingers to get her ready for the main event. And how he nipped at the tender skin just below her ear until she shivered with pleasure.

  Then oddly, his pace slowed until she pulled back to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

  He shook his head, but the look he gave her was as pensive as she’d ever seen him.

  “Michael?”

  “I would never hurt you.”

  “I know that.”

  “Maybe. But I want to say it anyway. I miss a lot about my old life—the pace, the adrenaline. It was good for me and I was good at it. But meeting you…”

  She swallowed and held her breath, afraid to speak or even breathe lest he stop.

  “Meeting you has changed every damn thing. But I want you to understand something.”

  He held her tighter, bruising her arm. She didn’t care, not at all.

  “I’m going to get you out of this. And when you go back to your real life, you won’t be the same person. You’ll be stronger. Better.”

  His eyes searched hers with amazing intensity, but he was starting to scare her now. This wasn’t the speech she’d hoped for. She didn’t know how she knew, but she knew.

  “I’m going to miss you. But I want you to know I’ll be rooting for you to have the life you deserve. You will. You’ll be able to travel. It kills me to say it, but you’ll have your pick of men. The world will be yours. All you have to do is take it.”

  “So you think I can have any man I want?”

  “I know it. You’re beautiful, and that’s the least of it. Don’t you settle for anything less than the best, you hear me? Any man—the goddamn princes of the world—would be lucky to know you, let alone love you.”

  She couldn’t have stopped her tears if her life depended on it. His sincerity slipped into her heart, and she knew it would be there forever.

  He was also telling the truth. Not about the men who’d line up for her but that he wouldn’t be in that line. This was going to end. One way or the other, Michael was going to leave her. She didn’t want it to be so, but even a woman who’d lived most of her life in the land of magical thinking could see that he couldn’t continue as her bodyguard. Not after all this.

  “Tate?”

  She sniffed. “Hmm?”

  “We still have right now.”

  There was something so sweet about his voice, about his face. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for being my safe place. For seeing so much in me. I’ll never forget you.”

  “You’d better not,” he said as he laid her down, as he moved between her legs. As he entered her body as completely as he’d entered her heart.

  16

  THEY DOCKED AT FIVE that morning. Tate held on to Michael as she listened for new voices, a chance perhaps to get someone’s attention.

  He squeezed her shoulder and kissed her on the temple. She instantly calmed. Not Zen calm or anything, but she could feel the tension ease from her shoulders.

  “I know it’s wishful thinking on my part,” she whispered after hearing nothing but Jazz’s voice on deck, “but, hey, we have to try.”

  “We do, but I’d feel a lot better if you were off the boat. There’s a much greater chance you can get away.”

  “I don’t want to go.”

  “I know,” he said.

  “They’re so damn secretive at the bank. We’ll be taken into a private room. It’s not like going to a bank in New York.”

  “Just do what we talked about.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “You’ll be great. I have complete faith in you.”

  “Well, that’s just insane.”

  He laughed, then he tilted her chin up. There wasn’t much light, not enough to make out every detail, and yet she could picture every inch of his face. She closed her eyes, holding the image still and strong so that when she was out there she could bring it back.

  His kiss was gentle and sweet, a tender counterpoint to last night’s urgency.

  After the anchor went down, the boat rocked with a whole new motion. For two hours they lay entwined. Kissing sometimes, touching everywhere. She tried so hard not to think of this as the end, but she wasn’t strong enough.

  “Michael?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I know what you said last night makes sense, but I can’t let it go. If…When we get back to New York, I want—” She felt him tense, and that made her stumble, but she really needed to say this now. “I want you.”

  His chest rose, but it didn’t fall for too many heartbeats.

  “Was that the wrong thing to say?”

  He exhaled and pulled her closer. “No, not at all. I’m really flattered.”

  “Screw flattered. Talk to me.”

  “I’m going to resign,” he said. “That’s a given. But I doubt all will be forgiven. You’re father’s not going to be happy with me. And he’s right. I was supposed to protect y
ou and I put you in danger.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “I did. Charlie is my fault. I should have cut him off years ago. I should have figured that he’d know how to break into my safe. I was stupid and you’re paying for it.”

  “Okay, you have to stop that right now. I know you had nothing to do with Charlie’s plan. You’ve put your own life at risk to take care of me. So don’t even try to go there.”

  “Even if I don’t, you’re father already has.”

  “I’m not my father.”

  “And for that I’m most grateful.”

  “Michael. I’m not kidding around.”

  “I know you’re not. And believe me, I’m goddamned amazed that a woman like you could want me. I just don’t think you should make any promises. Not yet.”

  “I’ve run from promises my whole life. If I want to make one now, I will.”

  “Okay, then. Promise away.”

  “Please don’t make light of this. I’ve never felt this way before. Not ever. You’ve been a revelation. Not just because you know how to make me tremble, but because—”

  He didn’t say anything. But he held his breath again.

  “Because of how you see me. I had no idea this was even possible. All I can call it is simpatico. It sounds too fancy for what I mean, but—”

  “No. I get it. I understand completely.”

  She allowed herself a little grin. “Told ya.”

  “Tell you what,” he said. “When we get back, we’ll take a look at how things stand. Just you and me. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Now try and sleep.”

  “Ha.”

  He kissed her temple one more time. “Rest, then. Rest.”

  FOR THE FIRST TIME since they’d kidnapped her, Ed came into the cabin. It was just past eight and she hadn’t slept a wink. She’d been too busy thinking, not about the day ahead or what she’d have to face but about a future filled with Michael.

  Of course, her father wouldn’t approve, but that was too damn bad. She hadn’t told him, not in so many words, but she loved Michael. Loved him in a way she’d never dreamed for herself.

  “Get dressed,” Ed said. “I want you ready in one hour.”

  He looked like an island millionaire. He wore an elegant Hawaiian shirt—which seemed contradictory but wasn’t—khaki pants, deck shoes and a Panama hat to cover his bald spot. His tan was deep, his Rolex top-of-the-line, and the diamond on his pinkie could have been used as an anchor.

  He turned to Michael. “Make sure she looks good.”

  Before Michael could say a word, Ed left, locking the door behind him.

  She sat on the bed in her T-shirt. It was already starting. Her pulse pounded, her breathing grew labored. She closed her eyes so she wouldn’t see the narrowing of her vision.

  “Come on, kiddo,” Michael said. “Don’t project. One foot in front of the other. You need to shower, right? That’s not scary. You’ve done that a thousand times before.”

  She nodded, then looked up at him as her thoughts took a right turn. “Michael, you have to promise me that you won’t kill Charlie.”

  “What?”

  “Promise me. I know you’re going to fight and do all your spy stuff, and you can feed every one of these bastards to the sharks as far as I’m concerned, but you can’t kill Charlie.”

  He straightened his back and flexed his jaw, and it was so easy to see the warrior in him. He’d been on his best behavior when her life had been at risk, but the moment she was off the boat…She tried to feel sorry for Jazz, but she couldn’t. He deserved everything Michael would give him.

  “Michael, please. If you do, you’ll regret it forever.”

  “Don’t ask me to make that promise, Tate.”

  “Why not?”

  “I have no idea what I’m going to be facing once you’re gone. Please don’t tie my hands that way.”

  “All right. But will you try?”

  “I will.”

  She stood and went right into his arms. “That’s all I need.”

  He took her by the shoulders and looked at her with his green-gold eyes. “I need so much more.”

  There was nothing gentle about this kiss. She felt it to her toes, to her chromosomes. She needed to be strong for this. To come back to him.

  He broke away. “Go on. Get ready. Remember, one step at a time.”

  It wasn’t easy, but she managed to do just that. Shower, makeup, hair, the clothes Jazz had bought her in Florida. When she finally looked in the mirror, she knew she looked just as privileged as Ed. In fact, she looked as if she could have been his daughter.

  It had been so easy to step back into the habits of years. The hair not just curled but coiffed, after lessons from some of the most sought-after stylists in the world. The makeup might not have been hers, but she knew how to work it. Subtle in every way. Elegant and understated. To be flashy was to be vulgar. To be one of them.

  And how would it be to live with—hell, date—one of them? A man who was her chauffeur, for heaven’s sake? The talk would be incessant, the censure obvious at every gathering. She didn’t give one solitary damn, as she’d never fit in anyway. But what about her father?

  He cared so very much. His life was a monument to wealth and everything wealth brought. Including this.

  While Michael insisted on blaming himself, she looked elsewhere. As much as she loved her father, her kidnapping now seemed inevitable. After Lisa, it had only been a matter of time.

  He’d instilled in her a number of wonderful things: her social responsibility, her respect for hard work. But he’d also raised her to be a victim.

  That she had spent so much of her time in captivity not feeling like a victim was a tribute to Michael. And herself. She couldn’t forget that. She’d done remarkably well, considering.

  There was a brief knock at the bathroom door. “Tate?”

  This was it. She had to go out now, leave Michael behind, act her ass off. She had to be strong and there was no one to depend on but herself.

  She took a deep breath and opened the door.

  Ed was there along with Jazz. They looked her over as if she were a prize pony. She felt the heat rush to her face, but she kept it together. Head up, shoulders back, an air of detachment. At least that part was easy.

  “You look good. Now all you have to do is keep your mouth shut and sign the papers.” Ed touched her hair and she didn’t even flinch. “Make it look real, sweetheart, and you’ll live to see another day.”

  Ed turned to Jazz and gave him a nod. Ed stepped closer to her and pulled a gun from the back of his waistband, while Jazz went to Michael’s side, next to the bed.

  “What’s just as important,” Ed continued, positioning the barrel of the gun in her side, “is that your boyfriend here might live, too.”

  Before she could even take a step or be scared about the gun, Jazz pulled Michael’s right arm straight out, laid it palm up on the edge of the bedside counter and smashed it with the butt of his weapon. She heard the bone snap like a twig, followed instantly by Michael’s sharp cry.

  The blood drained from her head and she gasped for breath as she struggled not to throw up. She could see exactly where it was broken at the wrist.

  She turned on Ed and slapped him across the face, the sound not nearly loud enough.

  He lifted his weapon, his whole face red and furious. She knew he might pull the trigger, but all she wanted was to punish him for what he’d done, then turn her wrath on Jazz.

  “Tate, no!” Michael, holding his arm tight against his side, stepped forward, his left arm out to pull her away.

  Ed trembled as he stared at her and she could see the war in his eyes. He wanted so badly to kill her, but it would cost him dearly. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  “You have no reason to hurt him. I’ve agreed to give you my money. That’s what you’re after. Not him.”

  Ed took another step closer, and now the barrel of the gun touched
her temple, the same place Michael had kissed so tenderly. “If you try anything stupid again, I’m going to give Jazz here a call. He’s going to break the other hand and then he’s going to shoot out the right kneecap, then the left. By the time Jazz is finished there won’t be a bone in his body that isn’t broke. You got that?”

  The thought brought up the bile in her throat, but she couldn’t break down. Not now. “Yes.”

  “Good.” He put the weapon back in his waistband, then covered it with his brightly colored Hawaiian shirt. “Let’s go.”

  She looked at Michael’s hand, already swelling. “He needs a doctor.”

  “When it’s over,” Ed said. “He’ll get all the attention he needs. Come on.”

  He led her to the door, but just before she stepped through, Michael said, “Wait.”

  She turned.

  “I love you,” he said. “I think I have for a long time. Just know that, okay? Know it.”

  WALKING OUT OF THE room was like death. The sun shone warm on her skin, the water sparkled blue and the wind smelled of the sea—and it was all gallows.

  She kept hearing that sickening snap over and over in her head. All she wanted to do was kill Ed Martini and Jazz and, yes, Charlie, too, and get back to Michael. It hurt her that he was in pain, that Jazz could injure him so easily.

  Too easily.

  God, Michael had let that horrible man hurt him to protect her. Because Ed had the gun on her.

  Her steps slowed, but Ed’s hand on her back led her onto the small sea taxi, where he sat her down so close to him his aftershave filled her nostrils. She stared at the shore, at Seven Mile Beach, while Ed told her he was now her uncle Ed—Ed Martini, her father’s best friend. That the money was being transferred to his account temporarily and that William would come soon to make different arrangements.

  Then he made her repeat everything he’d said. By the time she’d done so for the fifth time, they had docked. As she stood, he touched her arm, her back, then her arm again, and it was all she could do not to slap him over and over until he took her back to the boat, to Michael.

 

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