Harlequin Romantic Suspense December 2020 Box Set

by Addison Fox, Cindy Dees, Justine Davis

  He understood the doubts she must be feeling, but he was confident enough for both of them that today they would turn the tables on Eaton. “Make sure your laces are tied and double-knotted,” he said. “We’re going to be on the move.”

  She brightened, her eyebrows arching. “You have a plan.”

  “We’ll take the boat today.” He’d thought about it in great detail through the night. After hearing the plane leave, he felt even better. With Zettel dead and his men gone, Mark expected Eaton to send out every man he had to scour the island for them. “Barring that, we’ll take the radio.”

  She stared up at him. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but that means going after Eaton directly,” she said.

  “It does,” Mark replied. “It’s high time he realized who he invited to this fight.”

  She rolled to her feet and the smile she gave him was unexpected. Radiant. Caught off guard, he didn’t know quite what to say. Thankfully, she did.

  “Lead the way.”

  He’d never been quite so inclined to kiss a teammate before a mission. The woman had facets and layers he’d never get enough of. That would be a new danger to assess once they got out of here.

  “First stop, the container where they held us,” he said, as they set out. “I want to look for any supplies or weapons we can use against them.”

  Two ground stakes and a knife would be tough going against a renowned sniper who could pick them off from hundreds of yards away. The terrain was the only thing working in their favor. In addition to weapons, Mark wanted to find a workable pair of shoes and some real food.

  He set a brisk pace, pleased that Charlotte kept up. After yesterday, he had a good feel for the pattern of the camera network Eaton had planted. Today, he had no intention of avoiding or disabling all of them.

  Every guard sent to intercept him and Charlotte meant less protection at the locations he planned to attack. Only a few minutes after purposely ignoring a camera, Mark heard someone closing in behind them.

  At his hand signal, Charlotte ducked behind the wide trunk of a live oak tree, leaving him free to handle the threat. He pulled the knife and waited for the man on their tail to charge.

  The fight was over before it began. The grossly unprepared guard came straight at Mark and within seconds Mark slammed him into the ground, knocking the wind out of the man. He stared up at the sky, gasping like a landed fish.

  Using the guard’s Taser, Mark incapacitated him and cuffed him to the nearest tree. This guard’s boots were too small for him, as well. Were his feet really that big? Irritated and hungry, he roused the guard. “Where are we?”

  The man shrugged and Mark shook him hard. “Tell me.”

  “G-Georgia coast.”

  Progress at last. “How many of you are out here?” he demanded.

  The guard shook his head. “Dunno.”

  Mark raised his fist and the guard mumbled a reply, his words nearly unintelligible thanks to the jolt of the Taser. “How many?” Mark repeated. “I know about Eaton, the big guy and his skinny friend.” He ticked off the opposition on his fingers. “How many more?”

  “Th-thr-three,” the man managed at last.

  “Counting you?”

  The man nodded.

  Satisfied, Mark used the man’s sock as a gag and then flung his boots into the brush.

  “Us against six?” Charlotte asked, emerging from her hiding place.

  Mark nodded. “Five now.” And he wanted to save Muscle for last. Not because he was afraid of the fight. No, he wanted to take his time with that nasty brute.

  They made it to what passed for a headquarters without further trouble. As he’d expected, Eaton had abandoned the office and cage room, leaving the doors unlocked. Sensing a trap, Mark didn’t go inside. He didn’t care about the bulletin board. If Eaton and his laptop or radio were here, the man would be gloating and throwing out challenges by now.

  Someone had tried to disguise a path leading from the container where they’d been held into the trees, but they found it. Cautiously, they followed the trail to an established campsite. Two hammocks were still strung up between trees. A box of trash, a cooler and a small locker were all that was left. No weapons, food or boots.

  Charlotte turned in a circle. “You think they’re coming back or did they leave in a hurry?”

  “Probably left in a hurry,” he said. “No reason to stay out here during the storm when they had the boat.”

  “There’s a soda here,” Charlotte said, rooting through the cooler. “Do you want to share some caffeine?”

  “Yes, please.” He didn’t care that it was lukewarm, the carbonation felt great on his sore throat. The only items in the locker were a black T-shirt and a pair of flip-flops. He shoved his weary feet into the sandals and decided some protection was better than none.

  The hair on the back of his neck lifted and although he couldn’t spot the threat immediately, he obeyed his instincts. “Let’s get to the dock.” They were too exposed out here in the clearing.

  Mark hiked along, Charlotte just behind him, his flip-flops slapping against his feet.

  “Why aren’t you worried about the noise today?”

  “Because every one of us on the island knows the score,” he replied. “Eaton has the matchup he wants, a SEAL with a code of honor and a family friend to protect. He wants to goad me into becoming a killer and catch me in action on one of these cameras.”

  “But you’re not doing that.”

  “You and I know that, but he won’t stop trying.” The only man he wanted to kill was Eaton, to ensure Charlotte and his family could be safe from now on. That didn’t mean he’d do it on camera. Or kill him at all. He did work from a code and had no plans to take lethal action unless it became a matter of survival. “I’d rather see Eaton prosecuted and jailed for the rest of his life.”

  He veered away from the established paths, staying within the shelter of the trees as they neared the dock.

  Charlotte grabbed his arm. “Where’s the boat?”

  “I’m guessing it’s anchored out of sight. Makes sense to send it away so we can’t steal it.”

  “You aren’t worried he expected us to come here?”

  “No,” Mark replied. “I’m disappointed, but it’s simple logic.” Surely by now Hank or his dad had enough information to narrow down a search area. The investigators would pore over every pixel from every image available. “We just have to hang on until the rescue party arrives.”

  “Then that’s what we’ll do.” Charlotte’s grip eased and she rubbed his arm. People were looking for them. He had to keep believing it, keep reminding her to believe, despite the lack of evidence.

  Charlotte tensed as the guard patrolling the empty dock turned toward them, his gaze skimming over their position in a standard watch cycle. He was another one of the new guys. He had a pistol in a holster on one hip and a radio on the other.

  Eaton wanted clear communication today. Good.

  That left one new face still unaccounted for, likely someone watching the camera feeds and reporting their movements to Eaton. Didn’t matter. Nothing short of a nuclear strike would derail his plans to get Charlotte safely off this island.

  No boat posed a problem. What did he need to do to bring that boat back into the dock?

  “Mark?”

  “I’m thinking.” No boat meant no easy access to a long-range radio. It was time to get aggressive. Hard to believe Eaton was fool enough to strand himself out here with a highly trained navy weapon.

  “Eaton isn’t the type to work without an exit strategy,” he said. “There must be another boat or a specific rendezvous time.” He watched the guard continue pacing his watch.

  Mark wanted that radio. Was it a trap? “We’re off the Georgia coast,” he said, thinking out loud. “We have one boat and one new guy unaccounted for. E
aton and the two guards we know are still around somewhere.” He shook his head. “We need to find an advantage.”

  “You’re the real advantage,” Charlotte said.

  He took his eyes off the guard long enough to admire the soft curve of her cheek. Despite the stress, the tangled hair and smudges of ocean salt and island grime, her beauty struck him. Her consistent demonstrations of resilience and grit were even more attractive.

  She caught him staring, arched an eyebrow. “What?”

  The answer was a list way too long to enumerate here and now. “We are the advantage,” he said. “Us, together. They underestimate you. We also have surprise, will and sneakiness on our side.”

  She held his gaze, one eyebrow arched as if she was waiting for the punch line.

  There wasn’t one. Together they could do this. “They don’t expect us to split up,” Mark said, jerking his mind back to the issue at hand. “I want you to stay right here and watch the dock. I’m going to draw the guard away.”

  “And reduce the odds.”

  “Exactly.” He caught her chin lightly and kissed her. Creeping away, he moved with the breeze until he was ready to be seen.

  He looked back, pleased that he had to work to spy Charlotte, though he knew where she was hiding. She’d adapted quickly to the survival game and he hated that he hadn’t been able to spare her this craziness.

  Despite it all, she kept her fight and inner glow. That was her real strength. She’d given him so much through this ordeal. Her engaging conversations had carried him through the worst of some painful beatings. Kissing her was a new adventure in desire every time their lips touched. And last night, her words had undone him. He’d been so tempted to make love to her, even without any protection, just to show her everything he didn’t dare say out loud.

  She’d made being kidnapped by a madman almost a good thing.

  When they got out of this, he expected her to come to her senses. Knowing that, he kept the mushy, needy words locked down tight. His career would definitely kill the sweet family-filled future his heart wanted to promise her.

  Charlotte deserved better. A man who would be there for her, put down roots and build a life without darting away to carry out lethal actions around the globe. He still had a few years of tactical operations and combat missions ahead of him. He’d seen worry and doubt ruin marriages, not to mention the mess he’d made with Maria. He’d watched men give up choice assignments and take administrative paths to please their wives. He didn’t want to be the source of her worry and he didn’t want to push paper, so where did that leave them?

  First things first, he thought, as the guard turned his way again.

  Mark stumbled forward and let out a cry as if he was in pain. The poor sap fell for it, rushing up the dock, gun aimed at Mark’s chest, shouting into his radio.

  Mark raised his hands, swallowed his pride and begged the guard not to shoot.

  “Stop moving.” The guard kept his gun level with Mark’s chest. “The boss wants you alive. On your knees. Keep your hands up.” The barrel of the weapon remained trained on the same spot, center mass, as Mark complied.

  “Do you have any water?” Mark had noticed the top of a water bottle poking up from one of the pockets on the leg of the man’s cargo pants.

  “Not for you.”

  “Please,” Mark begged, adding a dry hacking cough for good measure. “Please. I’m so thirsty.”

  The man stared a moment and then handed over the bottle. It hadn’t even been opened yet. He didn’t know it, but that small kindness just saved his life.

  Mark sipped greedily, watching the guard search the surrounding area. “Thank you. What’s your name?”

  “John Doe,” the guard replied.

  “Right.” Did Eaton give his hired muscle a training manual? “I’ll call you J.D.,” Mark said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Whatever he’s paying you, I’ll double it if you help me get out of here.”

  J.D. sneered. “I’ve been paid, thanks. And there’s a bonus waiting when we’re done. Get up.”

  Mark made a production out of standing up, judging how to make a clean grab for the radio. “Come on, I don’t even know why I’m here. Your boss is playing a really sick game.”

  “Shut up, Riley.”

  Being addressed by his name caught him off guard. J.D. jabbed him in the chest with the barrel of his gun and Mark stumbled back. “Turn around and let’s move.”

  “Can’t we sit out here?” Mark asked.

  “Not your call, is it?” This time the gun caught him in the shoulder, twisting his torso and jabbing a particularly sore spot. “Move.”

  “You know who I am, so you know the navy will want me back. Name your price, J.D. Be rich by this time next week.”

  The guard snorted, but Mark could tell he was thinking it over. “Man, anything you want, I’ll give you. Just get me out of here alive.”

  The guard jerked his head back toward the dock. “Are you blind? The boat’s gone. We’re all stuck on this glorified sandbar until further notice. Now, where’d you stash your pretty friend?” J.D.’s gaze searched the immediate vicinity for Charlotte.

  “We got separated,” Mark lied. “She’s probably dead by now.”

  “Nah. They told me you were some kind of hero.” J.D. circled his finger in Mark’s face. “I think she’s close. Call her out and I’ll let you both go. Give you a good head start before the boss uses you for target practice.”

  Mark wasn’t about to expose Charlotte to any further harassment or pain. “I told you, I don’t know where she is. She was rambling about getting to the creek and…”

  The guard toggled his radio, asking for orders that didn’t come. He shoved Mark forward. “I’ll just take you back and dump you in a cage.”

  Mark dragged his feet and stumbled away from the dock and closer to Charlotte’s hiding place. He had the terrain memorized, knew exactly where he wanted to make his move once they were past her.

  The path between the dock and the cage room meandered around the bigger trees. At a sharp bend, Mark spun around and grabbed the gun. He jerked J.D. face-first into the tree trunk and followed up with a driving blow of his elbow into the guard’s sternum.

  Done correctly, the move would shock an opponent’s heart and incapacitate them. Either Mark missed or hadn’t put enough force behind the blow. J.D. fell hard but didn’t stay down. They wrestled for control of the gun in a life-and-death game of tug-of-war. In peak condition, it wouldn’t have been a fight at all, but the abuse and stress had dulled Mark’s edge.

  J.D. twisted around and swept Mark’s legs out from under him. Mark scrambled to get some distance, only to be caught around the ankle. He landed a kick to J.D.’s shoulder and even without a boot, the guard howled in pain. The other guards would descend on them in a hurry, but this wasn’t where he wanted to make his last stand.

  Riding a burst of adrenaline, Mark jumped to his feet and went for the gun again, but J.D. wrenched it out of his hands. Mark plowed a foot into one of J.D.’s knees, but the kick lacked enough power to do any real damage. He picked up a rock, determined to put this guard down permanently, when a scream lanced through the air.

  Charlotte.

  Mark reacted. He dropped the rock and then grabbed the guard’s ankle, twisted his leg awkwardly around a tree. J.D. screamed. Too bad. Mark had to be sure the man couldn’t follow him.

  He grabbed the gun and the radio that had been broken in the fight. Heedless of his bare feet, he raced toward Charlotte’s cry.

  CHAPTER 12

  Swinging upside down, tethered to a high limb by her ankle, Charlotte cursed every useless tear dripping into her hair. Furious she’d been caught, angrier still that she’d screamed, she tried again and again to reach the knotted rope around her ankle. Calling herself names, she thought she might as well have sent Eaton
or anyone else on the island an engraved invitation to her demise.

  Following Mark’s instructions, she’d been watching the water beyond the dock for any activity while listening for Eaton and the others closing in on him from the island. The only voices had been Mark’s and the guard he nicknamed J.D. She hadn’t heard any radio response to the guard’s calls. Since the night they’d been kidnapped, she’d seen firsthand a wide range of Mark’s skills and tolerances. His acting skills impressed her as much as all of the others as he manipulated the guard, luring him away from the dock.

  He’d told her to stay put and watch. She’d meant to do only that. But when she noticed the stack of crates near the trees on the other side of the path, she couldn’t help but take a closer look. The promise of bottled water and the potential of finding a weapon was a draw she couldn’t resist.

  She’d walked right into a trap. And because she’d screamed, she knew Mark would do his best to get to her. They might both be caught again. Recalling the cages and the brutality Mark endured, guilt swamped her. She didn’t want any more of his blood on her hands. She resolved to get herself out of this snare. Mark couldn’t be expected to do everything for her, not even out here.

  The pack thumped against her back as she twisted, trying to get a hand on one of the stakes to cut herself down. A bloodcurdling scream sailed through the air and Charlotte froze. Praying that hadn’t been Mark, she jackknifed at the waist in another effort to escape. It wasn’t enough. She swore under her breath. Anything to give release to the frustration.

  “Easy there, love.”

  She twisted around to see Mark step into her upside-down view. “I’m sorry.” She flung a hand toward the crates. “Water and a gun… They’re probably empty,” she grumbled.

  “I get it. Would’ve done the same.” He walked a circle around her predicament while she swung like a sack of potatoes. He was barefoot again and she wanted to cry. He must have tossed the flip-flops in order to run to her aid. Guilt was a rash of sharp prickles under her skin while he searched for a secondary trip wire.