by Zoe Dawson
She remembered the first time she’d laid eyes on him. Fresh from saving her, covering her body, protecting her. His eyes so green, his hair mussed, looking both elegant in his impeccable suit and so street tough.
She’d seen him at his rawest, his most brutal, and she still loved him. All six incredible feet of raw, lean power, silky dark hair, and sharp cheekbones. His self-assurance in standing up to Russell, beaten, shot and so confident it made her shiver inside at his bravery. She knew for a fact he could back up that claim.
They had too many complications, and at this point she didn’t care. She needed him.
She reached down and pulled off his jeans and underwear, running her hands over him with abandon. His chest heaved, and he closed his eyes and groaned. He cupped her face between his bound hands, his mouth closing over hers, hot, wet, tongues touching and twining, lips rubbing and pressing, consuming.
His hands were hot on her face, and she got rid of her clothes without breaking the kiss.
She wanted him, desperately. But no one had more control over himself than Vin—just the thought of all that control was enough to make her melt another degree.
“Slide all over me, Sky. Oh, baby, you feel so good.”
She moved over him, and he groaned hard in his chest as she unbuttoned his shirt, pressing her breasts against his chest. Rising up, she reached down, slid on the condom and guided him into her. She gasped, almost a sob, and a huge crash of pleasure waved over her. She cried out against his mouth as she increased her tempo. She felt his hands against her stomach, then cupping her breast, his thumb rubbing over her nipple. He pressed her back and lowered his head to take her aching tip into his warm, wet mouth.
And as he sucked on her, the pleasure built until she came in a torrent, going deep on him, her soft cries and trembling shudders rolling over her.
His hips rose to meet hers and his thrusts were powerful and penetrating, getting more rapid until he stiffened and moaned, his back arching and his head twisting.
She buried her face into his throat, her breath fast and heavy just like his.
He pushed off the headboard with his back, grunting a little in pain until they were lying against each other.
They would have to get dressed soon, but right now she reveled in being against his naked body.
She couldn’t think. She could barely catch her breath.
Love. It was so beautiful, just like he’d told her. The essence of life.
Her resolve to sacrifice her life for her parents was shaken, the very foundation cracking. All because of Vin.
“Vin,” she whispered against his neck, tightening her arms around him.
The next morning when they came for them, they got up and ate breakfast, and Sky booted up her computer. The algorithm was almost done. She worked on it for an hour, put the finishing touches on it and knocked on the stateroom door.
The guard opened it, and she said, “Get Russell. It’s done.”
When he closed the door, she looked at Vin. He gave her a reassuring smile and said, “We’re ready for this. Just keep it cool.”
She nodded as the door opened again, and Russell stepped through. The guard closed it behind them. She gave him the flash drive. “Here it is. I hope you choke on it.”
He grabbed her by the hair, and Vin rose from the bed, but the guard shoved him back down.
“You little bitch. It should have been me who got the Stingray project, beaten out by a woman.”
“That’s why you hired me.”
“I had plans for that project, and one of them was to shaft the Navy who has been so proprietary with their contracts. It was all about you. But now I’ve leveraged the company into so much debt, I’ve got to bail. The sale of this sub to a foreign government will make me rich and then I’ll retire.”
“You are despicable, Russell.”
He backhanded her across the face, pain exploding in her cheek. She hit the wall of compartments, covering her cheek with her palm.”
“Coyne,” Vin said, and her blood froze at the tone of his voice.
“You only have the time it takes for me to check out this algorithm. Then, you’re both dead.”
He turned and walked out of the stateroom, but the guard didn’t leave, and Sky’s heartbeat accelerated. How was she going to cut Vin free? She really only had one choice. She’d have to do this herself.
She’d already filled the syringe. It was just a matter of getting close enough to the guard to inject him. Since the space was so limited, it wouldn’t take much.
She reached up and rubbed her temple and stumbled toward the guard. He reacted by bringing his gun up, but she was close enough. Holding the syringe like a knife, she jammed the needle right into his chest and pushed the plunger. He cried out, backhanding her. As he lunged for her, he stumbled, and Vin rammed into him. The downed guard hit the bulkhead and didn’t move.
The door opened and slammed against the wall. She was hurriedly kicking off her boot to pull out the blade to cut Vin free, but they were out of time.
The guard brought up the semiautomatic weapon, and it was as if everything slowed down. Vin was already moving. He hit the guard on the side of his knee with his boot, and Sky heard bone crack. The guard cried out and listed to the side. Vin rushed him and dropped his arms around the man’s neck. With his bound hands he lifted up, and there was another audible crack and the guard collapsed at his feet.
She hurried up to Vin and cut the flex cuff off him. He rubbed his wrists, working the feeling back into his numb fingers. He crouched to grab up one of the semiautomatics. She grabbed his arm and pulled him out the open door. “We’ve got to get to the engine room before he plugs in and tries to use that algorithm.”
They paused at the corner to the passageway, and she handed him the knife. He closed it and dropped it into his pocket. “Why? Won’t it take him time to find Stingray?”
“I didn’t write a program for Stingray. All Russell is going to find with that flash drive is a pod of whales.”
Vin grinned and she laughed. “Come on. He won’t think it’s as funny as we do.” She looked around as if she was getting her bearings. “Let’s go, the engine room is this way.” She ran down the passageway.
“How do you know your way around a sub, sweetheart?” he asked, covering her as they ran.
“I studied a lot of schemata when I was designing Stingray. I know most sub models like the back of my hand.”
They didn’t meet anyone, but when they reached the engine room, Vin slipped inside first and pulled out his knife. “Stay here.”
He disappeared from view, and she heard absolutely nothing until he returned back to her, startling her.
She made her way to the life support system. “Grab those breathing masks.”
He opened the compartments and took out two, handing her one. She put it over her face and started the flow of oxygen.
“When we breathe in air, our bodies consume the oxygen and convert it to carbon dioxide. Exhaled air contains about four-point-five percent carbon dioxide.”
Vin nodded. “A submarine is a sealed container that holds a limited supply of air.”
“Exactly. There are two crucial things that must happen in order to keep air in a submarine breathable—oxygen has to be replenished as it is consumed. If the percentage of oxygen in the air falls too low, a person suffocates. Carbon dioxide must be removed from the air. As the concentration of carbon dioxide rises, it becomes a toxin.”
“You’re going to knock everyone out. Clever.”
She worked as she spoke. “Oxygen is supplied from these pressurized tanks and is released continuously by a computerized system that senses the percentage of oxygen in the air. We’re going to reprogram the computer to lower the release of oxygen so that just enough is supplied, but not enough for them to regain consciousness. They won’t even know what hit them. Then we will have free rein of the sub.”
“And move to step two.”
She smiled through the mask. “Tha
t’s right. Distress signal. I know how to do that, too.”
“I don’t think Coyne even had a clue what he was up against.”
She tapped on the keys to the console and did the math in her head, using the size of the sub and the amount of oxygen a body needed to maintain its bodily functions, and made the adjustments.
Then she looked down at her watch. Vin moved closer to her, and she welcomed the warmth of his presence. She realized that he was making sure she was covered, but it felt good just the same.
When a sufficient amount of time had passed, they left the engine room. As they made their way to the bridge, they stepped over collapsed bodies.
On the bridge, they found Russell slumped over the console. He’d plugged in her algorithm, and she saw that he would have realized she’d written it to find a pod of whales. She laughed softly as she put out a distress signal.
Chapter Seventeen
Vin leaned against the ambulance that had pulled up to the Navy Yard dock where the Coast Guard had escorted the sub. The men inside, including Coyne, were taken into custody. An EMT examined Vin’s wounds.
“You look good, sir. Whoever patched you up did a great job.”
Sky was sitting on another ambulance, talking to Vin’s boss.
When Chris walked away, Sky looked over at him. Then she slipped off the back and crossed the distance separating them.
“Your boss is going to take me home.”
“Sky, wait. We need to talk. I need to tell you something important.” He glanced at the EMT, and he moved away.
She looked at Vin, her eyes bruised. “Don’t say it. I’m not the right woman for you, Vin. I almost got us killed because of my oath to my parents. I don’t think they would be very proud of me right now. It won’t work for me, Vin, and you deserve someone who isn’t obsessed by her past. My family’s honor—”
“Honor? That’s your argument against anything we could have together?”
She shook her head and cupped his face. “No, Vin. It’s not that. Their deaths have to mean something. They have to. I can’t turn my back on that.”
“What are you talking about? Their lives already have meaning, and I’m not asking you not to honor them. I’m just asking you to let me in. Look at you. So beautiful, so smart. It’s all about you. Not about them. They’re gone. But you’re alive. Do something with your life.”
“I gave it away. I promised. I can’t go back on it.”
“You’re afraid to live. That’s what it is. You’re using your parents’ sacrifice like a crutch, a barrier to embracing life because all you’ve known is fear. I’m offering you something else here. A chance, Sky, to be together, to live and to love. I love you. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. Please, take my hand and we’ll work through this.”
“I can’t.” She backed up, and he tried to come after her, but he collapsed against the side of the ambulance. When she shook her head, his heart sank. “Sky. Don’t go.”
But she turned away from him. “It’s me, not you. You’re the most wonderful man I have ever met. Please, take care of yourself.”
She ran then, away from the chaos and the flashing lights and the sirens.
She ran from him.
Sky couldn’t spend one more day in her empty house. She was barred from Coyne Industries until there was a thorough investigation. It pretty much meant she was out of a job. Her boss had committed treason, and she would have to testify. But it didn’t change the fact that she was unemployed.
Vin’s face, on the day she’d run from him, haunted her sleeping and waking hours. But she couldn’t let him near her. Couldn’t let him touch her or she’d crumble. She would get lost in him, and then the honor, the sacrifice her parents had made would be for nothing.
They had clashed over his lack of family honor and her abundance of it. Her need, so all-consuming that she had almost gotten them killed. He was better off without her. Her work had to be her life. Even her enemies knew her better than she knew herself. She had to run. Run away from the one man she would have died for.
She loved him, and she’d broken his heart.
That was the sacrifice that hurt so, so bad.
She arrived on her aunt’s doorstep, and as soon as she opened the door, Sky burst into tears. Her aunt dragged her inside, her weathered face crinkled in concern.
After she made some tea, they sat at the kitchen table.
“Why are you here, child? What is so very wrong?”
“I fell in love.”
Her aunt’s face registered her confusion. “Shouldn’t that be a cause for celebration?”
“But I promised I would give up my life to make a difference, so that my parents’ sacrifice meant something.”
She patted Sky’s hand, handing her a tissue. “What kind of notion is this?”
Sky wiped at the moisture on her face, dabbing at her eyes and sniffling. “My father’s. He told me to use my gift to make a difference. You told me all my life the sacrifice they made.”
Her aunt frowned and sat back in her chair, distress clear on her face.
“Oh, no.” She bit her lip and looked away. “I have been an old fool and kept something from you all these years. Now I see what a terrible mistake I’ve made.”
Everything went dead still for Sky, sounds, her hands, her heart. “What have you kept from me?”
“Letters. Your father’s letters. I think it’s time you read them.”
A sudden ache constricted her throat, and she clenched the tissue in her hands. Drawing a deep shaky breath, Sky sat back and asked, “Letters? How could you have kept them from me?”
Her aunt’s expression softened. “I didn’t want to upset you, and then it got easier to just conceal them. But I was wrong in keeping them from you. Read them and you’ll understand what I’m talking about.”
Sky followed her aunt up to her bedroom and waited while she pulled a box out of her closet. “Here they are. Take them to your old room and stay as long as you like. We’ll talk again after you have read them.” She squeezed Sky’s arm. “I’m sorry, Sky.”
She set the box in Sky’s arms and left the room. Making her way to her old bedroom, Sky set the box on the bed and closed the door. Shrugging out of her coat, she threw it on a nearby chair. With trembling fingers, she pulled out the first letter. When she saw her father’s neat handwriting, a sob caught in her throat. She’d been denied so much of him, denied his comfort and guidance. She resented her aunt for keeping these secrets. She had a right to his correspondence, no matter how it made her feel.
But that was it, wasn’t it? Just what Vin had said. Her stomach flipped over. Had he been right?
She started to read, and she read until she got to the last letter, the one dated just before his death.
Malaya,
I’m very ill, my child. I don’t think I will see another day. I’ve spent my life in this prison, but it hasn’t been in vain. I’ve written several books that will probably never be published, but that doesn’t matter. I did something good with the time that was given me. You are a young woman now. Grown up. I know that your aunt has not given you my letters, but eventually she will. I know that you are a Navy scientist working on top-secret projects for the United States. It is fitting as your name Malaya means free. That was your mother’s idea. It was her birthplace, and I’m proud to know that you have embraced the country that values freedom. My wish is that you have understood that freedom is all I’ve ever wanted for you. Your right to choose. The Chinese would have taken that from you. I fought to give it back to you. You are free to choose to do with your gift as you see fit. Don’t let what your mother and I sacrificed trouble you. You were our child, and it was our responsibility to make sure you were safe. She loved you and I love you. You would honor us if you begin your own legacy with a home, husband and children to bring you the joy that you brought to us.
Your loving father
She set the letter down, covering her face with her hands, and
mourned him and her mother, let the feelings she’d always kept hidden come to the surface and overwhelm her with grief and loss. Vin had taught her how. He had given her so much, and in her foolish belief, she had discounted it and him. After all that had been burned away in the aftermath of her grief, all that was left was her love for her family, for Vin. Her sacrifice had been easy. Too easy. Cutting off emotion and living the life of a martyr was what she had really done. She could see it clearly now.
Vin had been so right. She was scared. Because taking what he offered would open her up to emotions that frightened her as a child. Love, need for reassurance, fear of abandonment. Dealing with everyday life as it happened was something that she’d avoided, and the one time she’d let a man in, she’d ruined it by being so stiff and cold. Vin was right, she realized as she sat there and absorbed her father’s words. Her dad had wanted her to be happy. Happy. Not give up everything to their memories. He’d spelled it out in black and white.
Her dad wanted her to start a new legacy, a family of her own, using her skills and abilities as she saw fit. Something that had rubbed off from her independent and beautiful mother and the reason he fell in love with her. He’d given her back her family in the words that he’d written on these pages.
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she felt finally, inexplicably free. She also felt terrible remorse for how she had ended it with Vin—hoping against hope that it wasn’t really over, that her actions hadn’t killed any feeling he’d had for her. Because she loved him.
This kidnapping had changed her life, had been the catalyst that had drawn her away from her isolation and her loneliness to something more fulfilling and now ingrained in her heart. In her terrible ordeal, she’d found herself and realized that she could let go of her past. She’d found Vin, and she never wanted to let him go.
As the sun rose, she told her aunt that they would talk later. There was something that she desperately needed to do.
She drove over to NCIS and went up to Vin’s office, but when she approached his desk, it was empty.
