Air Bound

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Air Bound Page 9

by Christine Feehan


  “When are we getting out of here?”

  “We’ll leave the ship around three in the morning.” He felt the small shudder that ran through her body and resisted the urge to put his arm around her. The less physical contact he had with her the better.

  “Don’t sharks feed at night?”

  “You really do have a thing about swimming, don’t you?” He kept his voice gentle. She was holding on by a thread. The tears still streamed down her face, but she was weeping quietly.

  “Yes. I know it’s weird when I live on the coast, and I actually love the sea, but I don’t even put my feet in it.”

  He sighed. “Baby, if you don’t stop crying, I’m going to have to hold you. That could be bad for both of us.”

  She kept looking at him with her eyes that reminded him of the sky at night during a summer rain.

  “All right then.” He surrendered to the inevitable. “I’m not going to be responsible for anything strange that happens between us.” He simply picked her up. She didn’t weigh much and it was easy enough to pull her onto his lap. She fit nicely into the shelter of his chest.

  Airiana’s head rested against his chest, right over his heart. He was fairly certain his heart was pounding hard enough for her to hear. How the hell did a woman so small, and weepy at that, affect him the way she did? He’d shut off his emotions far too many years earlier. There was no other way to survive in his business.

  “Go to sleep. At least rest. I’ll hear if anyone tries to come into the cabin,” he advised, one hand going to the nape of her neck, his fingers massaging the tight muscles.

  “You think someone will, don’t you?” Her lashes fluttered, dropped down, and some of the tension eased out of her under the soothing pressure.

  “Prince Saeed doesn’t like to be told no. I suspect no one has ever done it before and lived. He’ll send his bodyguards.” He didn’t bother to keep the satisfaction out of his voice.

  “You want him to send them.”

  “He won’t have brought very many aboard ship. When you’re killing children, I don’t care how much money you have, you don’t advertise it much. He’ll keep his guards to a minimum.”

  She lifted her head to look up at him. “You’re going to kill him.”

  “Damn right I am.” There was no apology in his voice. He didn’t feel particularly apologetic. He’d missed the bastard twice. How many young women had suffered at the hands of a monster because he’d been unable to get the job done?

  She was silent a moment. He held himself still, telling himself it didn’t matter what she thought of him. She was a package to be delivered, nothing more. Her opinion of him didn’t—couldn’t—matter. His life, from the time he was a child, had been this—killing, serving his country, removing men like Saeed from the face of the earth. She couldn’t possibly understand the filth and depravity he’d witnessed. The cruelty.

  Maxim didn’t want Airiana to ever know such things. It had been bad enough that she’d seen that young girl dead in Saeed’s room while the prince had drooled over Airiana. Maxim had wanted to kill the monster right there in the passageway, even knowing his bodyguards were close. Had he actually laid his hands on Airiana, Maxim knew he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself.

  “How can I help?”

  His fingers ceased giving that slow massage to her neck and shoulders. It was the last thing he expected her to say.

  “Airiana, I’m going to kill him,” he repeated.

  “I’m scared, Maxim, not hard of hearing.” There was resolution in her voice. “He tortured and killed that girl, and he’s probably doing the same to another one right now. I sat here thinking that could have been me, or Lexi. It could be any child he takes a fancy to. I don’t want to give him that chance, not ever again. Maybe it’s wrong, but I don’t care if it is. She was like a broken toy to him, nothing at all. He’d already dismissed her and was looking for the next one.”

  He allowed himself a breath. A deep inhale, taking her scent into his lungs, feeling it fill him, spread through his system, penetrating every cell in his body. He was making the effort to console her, and in some strange way, she was comforting him.

  She’d found a way of getting inside of him. She’d slipped in when he wasn’t prepared, breaching his every defense before he knew he even had chinks in his armor. He hadn’t realized he was vulnerable. She actually made him feel naked, completely exposed. It was an uncomfortable feeling and one he didn’t like.

  “Killing someone isn’t easy, Airiana.” His voice was gruff. Harsh, even.

  “I can’t imagine it would be, nor is it supposed to be.”

  She lifted her head to look him directly in the eyes and he felt the jerk of his heart in response. Her tears were gone. Her eyes were dark blue now, like a midnight sky. Steady. Soft. She turned him inside out with that look of complete understanding.

  He damned well didn’t need her understanding—or approval. Still, there was no getting away from her eyes. He’d lost his soul a long time ago, forgotten he even had one, but she found it there inside of him, the last little piece he’d thought long gone and she’d claimed it for her own. Somehow, those blue eyes in her perfect face looked right inside of him and found—Maxim Prakenskii.

  “I’m going to kiss you.”

  She blinked. Frowned. “Why?”

  “Because I need to, and the first time I was just being a bastard. I am, you know. A complete and utter bastard with no redeeming qualities.”

  She smiled a slow, beautiful smile that could steal a man’s breath. “I think you have a few, Maxim. Don’t sell yourself short. You’re capable of ridding the world of a monster like the prince. I’d say that was a redeeming quality right there.”

  He framed her face with both hands and leaned down to take possession of her mouth. She should have pulled away from him. Didn’t the woman have a single ounce of self-preservation? More to the point, didn’t he?

  Her lips were just as soft as he remembered. Angel lips. So perfect they couldn’t be human. He wanted to feel something real. Just for a moment—for this small stolen instance of time they shared.

  Kissing her was absolutely inexcusable and inappropriate. He was taking advantage of her vulnerability, but damn it all, once wasn’t enough. He hadn’t kissed her properly. Or nearly long enough. He had every intention of rectifying that situation.

  His tongue traced the seam of her lips, demanding entrance, and she opened her mouth for him. His breath moved through her, through him as his tongue swept inside to taste her. To claim her. Or was she claiming him? He felt himself falling into her.

  Her kiss swept him away, far away from his past. From himself. From the ugliness of his life. She took him to a place that he’d never even imagined or fantasized about. One touch. So tentative, her tongue tangling with his.

  He hadn’t known he could be gentle. Not like this. Not bordering on tender. He was a rough man, so much so that he’d never really been asked to seduce a woman, when he knew every trick there was.

  Emotion burst through him, as if somewhere deep inside a dam had burst. She was small, inexperienced, yet he felt as if she’d taken a battering ram to his heart. He was actually shaken by her touch. In that moment, with his mouth devouring hers, he felt as if no one in the world could possibly feel such intensity of emotion as he did. She was building a firestorm in him—and that was dangerous to both of them.

  Reluctantly he lifted his head, knowing he had to stop. He stared down into her face for a long time, fighting to find that place of stillness in him. His heart raced. His breathing was ragged. She affected him as no one else had ever done—or could ever do. He was certain of that.

  “Why did you let me kiss you?” he asked, still shaken.

  A small, mischievous smile curved her lower lip, the one he was far too intrigued with. Her blue eyes had gone smoky. Sexy. A little glaz
ed from his kisses.

  “Well, we’re probably going to die trying to kill Saeed and his friends. Or if we make it off the ship and into the ocean, the sharks will finish us off. Even if you survive, my chances are fairly slim. I’m sure you noticed I don’t have a lot of experience, in fact, you’re the first man to ever kiss me, so since we’re going to die, it just seemed like a good idea.”

  He stared down into the amusement in her amazing blue eyes. He found himself smiling with her. “I’m your first?”

  She nodded. “Yep. Probably my last as well. As kisses go, it rocked. Just in case you wanted to know.” She pulled back, slipping off his lap, hugging her knees to her again, back against the wall. “I suppose if I have to die, at least I can check that off my list.”

  His eyebrow shot up. “What else can I help you with on that list? Surely a kiss isn’t the only thing you’re looking forward to doing before you die.”

  A small laugh escaped her throat. Soft. Amused. A thread of sound, no more, but his insides did a crazy slow somersault and his palm itched like hell. She was killing him without trying. For a moment he entertained the idea that she was the enemy agent trained in the art of seduction, because he was the one being seduced.

  “I think we’ll leave it at a kiss.”

  “Have you forgotten those sharks? Great whites feed here.”

  “Really? I thought they fed in coastal waters mainly. We’re far from coastal waters and moving fast.”

  He sighed. He had to do something about that. He glanced at his watch, surprised Saeed hadn’t made his move yet. The man had been furious that Maxim, a lowly arms dealer, would dare deny him a woman he wanted. “They’ll be along any minute. They’ll be coming in hard and fast, trying to kill me to take you. I’m going to give you a rifle, an MP-5. It’s a semiautomatic and shoots nine millimeter cartridges so it has a low recoil. That means you’re going to fire one round at a time if necessary to save your life. Only if absolutely necessary. We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves and bring the crew down here. The magazine has the standard thirty rounds, but if we need it, we have more.”

  “I’m familiar with the weapon,” Airiana said. “I’ve been working with various firearms. Thomas and Levi, my brothers-in-law, have insisted all of us know how to shoot. I’m fairly decent.” She tried to look innocent and wide-eyed when she mentioned his brothers.

  He ignored the reference. “Aim for the middle of the body if you’re a fairly decent shot. Don’t get creative and go for the head shot. You don’t want to miss. Remember, shooting at a human being is different than shooting a target and you can’t hesitate.”

  Airiana nodded, watching as Maxim opened a locker and pulled out a fairly large war bag. He handed her a small stack of neatly folded clothes. She took them reluctantly. They were all black, thin, but warm. A turtleneck, long sleeve sweater, as well as form-fitting pants. “These are my size. I suppose you went shopping?”

  “You’ll need to change right now,” he instructed, his voice once more brisk and impersonal, as if he still wasn’t reeling from his close contact with her. He kept his back to her. He didn’t need to see bare skin—and he wasn’t about to answer her loaded question. “I’ve got soft-soled shoes for you and a wet suit. You won’t need the wet suit until later, but get changed.”

  He could hear the whisper of clothing and was grateful she didn’t argue with him. She was aware of the danger and definitely had made up her mind to aid him. Maybe the fact that she knew he was a Prakenskii was an advantage. She seemed to accept her two brothers-in-law. He did have to consider her family, the only thing he was truly loyal to and fiercely protective of, so his behavior couldn’t possibly be as bizarre as he first thought.

  “Okay,” she said softly, “you can turn around now.”

  He took her folded clothes from her hand, resisting the urge to inhale their scent, and stowed them in his waterproof bag. He’d noticed the old sweater seemed to mean a lot to her. He exchanged the clothes for new shoes. Her combat boots would be too loud, too heavy and clumsy where they were going.

  He didn’t dare leave her behind in their room while he took care of Saeed as he’d intended. It was too risky. He’d seen the way Cyreck had looked at her and knew it was only a matter of time before the man got stupid and came demanding he get his turn. In any case, he doubted if Airiana would have been satisfied being left behind now that she’d thrown her lot in with his.

  Knowing that the cargo vessel was really part of the Gratsos floating sex trade made his mission far more encompassing then he’d first thought. He had to make certain what was on the ship came to light.

  “We’re going to have to do something about your hair. It’s too—blond.” The color was highly unusual. “Does it glow in the dark?”

  “Ha, ha, and I’m not dyeing my hair black.”

  She looked a little hurt, although he’d been attempting a joke. She was frightened, but standing with him, giving her his trust when he hadn’t really earned it, and that nearly broke him right there. He wasn’t a man anyone trusted. He caught strands of her wild, bedroom hair in between his fingers. Pure silk. “A man would give his life to feel your hair on his body, moving over his chest and thighs. It’s beautiful. Truly beautiful. But we’ll have to cover it up so you’re safer.”

  She blinked at him, a little shocked, but she nodded.

  He hadn’t really intended to say what was in his mind, but it was there, a little bit of the erotic fantasy already playing in his head when he didn’t have such things. “A hat. A scarf. Something,” he added briskly. He ripped a piece from a dark shirt from his pack and handed it to her. “Do that thing women do when they want to cover their hair.”

  She rolled her eyes at him, but obediently tied back her hair and wrapped it with the strip of material. “Seriously, do you know how chauvinistic you can sound?”

  “Yes.” He made up a small pack for her, with a knife and extra ammo, just in case, before handing her the rifle. “Don’t be tempted to shoot me.”

  “You’ll have to take it back before we enter the water,” she cautioned, her smile tight. Frightened. Not lighting her incredible eyes. “That’s the only way you’ll really be safe.”

  He shook his head, wanting to smile when he could feel his muscles beginning to grow loose and relaxed, while deep inside he coiled tighter and tighter like a snake, just waiting. His alarm system had begun shrieking at him and there was no time left. He caught her hand and tugged her toward the locker.

  “Get behind my bag and lay on the floor of the locker just in case they come in with guns blazing.” He kept his voice a thread of sound between them, allowing the air to create their own private communication system. “I doubt they’ll do that because they won’t want any undue attention drawn to them any more than we do.”

  Airiana glanced at the locker. It was very small. She could fit, but she didn’t much care for closed-in spaces. “Where will you be?”

  “Where I can see them coming at us, but they can’t see me,” he said. “No matter what happens, Airiana, you can’t make a sound. Do you understand?”

  “How will I know it’s you when I hear someone trying to open the locker door?”

  The fearful note in her voice turned his heart over. “You’ll know it’s me.” He reached out his hand to her. “Get in now.” Instincts were kicking in, his radar warning him the enemy was close.

  “If you really stop them from taking me,” Airiana ventured, “won’t the crew try to kill you as well? And if they think you’ll tell someone about what really happens aboard this vessel, won’t they just kill the women and children immediately?”

  He cursed her intelligence under his breath, but he wasn’t going to lie about it. There were too many other things he had to lie—or at least mislead her—about. “Yes.” His voice was grim. “Now get in the damned locker.”

  She placed her hand in
his. Small. Soft. Not the hand of a woman used to fighting for her life—or the lives of others. She looked him straight in the eye. There it was again. That trust. To a man like him that was pure gold. A treasure beyond any price. She had no idea what she was gifting him with, and that made it all the sweeter.

  He kept his eyes on hers, holding her gaze captive while she stepped inside. Her face was stark white, and her mouth trembled, but she slowly knelt and then lay behind his heavy, waterproof bag.

  “They’re coming.” He kept the thread of his voice between them. “Don’t make a sound.”

  She nodded, and he closed the locker door, muffling the sound so the men sneaking down the passageway couldn’t possibly hear. Opening the grate over the window, he called in the fog, beckoning long gray fingers toward the ship and into the small cabin before leaping up to catch the ventilation screen above his head. He lowered the metal grate carefully and swung into the small space.

  For a big man, he was flexible and used to closed-in compartments. He was also very patient and could remain still for hours if necessary. He didn’t know about Airiana. She had looked very fragile and vulnerable as she slipped behind his war bag. The damned thing was bigger than she was.

  The hatch swung open abruptly and four men spilled inside. He recognized them. Prince Saeed didn’t go far without them. Conley and Shamar Dover were brothers, mercenaries with a sizable reputation. Saeed considered them the best in the business. Maxim had run across many others far better. They were loyal to Saeed because he paid them massive amounts of money and kept them supplied with women and all the weapons they could possibly want to play with.

  Yosuf and Jamel had grown up with Prince Saeed and entertained him as boys. They were used to his savage, brutal need for blood and death. He enjoyed hurting others, and they had learned if they didn’t want to be one of his victims, they had to continue supplying him with warm bodies. Over the years they had become accustomed to disposing of the dead and covering for him. He compensated them and considered them true friends.

 

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