*
Navy SEAL Lieutenant Jack Taggart loosened his tie and undid the top two buttons of his dress shirt as he walked across the beach toward the wedding reception. He’d gotten Paul and Renee on their plane to Scotland for their honeymoon. Now he would fulfill his promise to the bride and return to the celebration to check on Renee’s grandmother, Elsie. He’d much rather head to his sailboat and enjoy his second reason for being here. Some much needed R&R after a particularly grueling deployment. But Elsie had taken a liking to him and would allow only him to escort her to her room. After midnight, she’d insisted. She vowed she would stay up until the bride and groom were on their way to their honeymoon before she went to bed.
He shook his head. For a woman of eight-three years with a heart condition, she could be a firecracker.
As he approached the bar the hairs on the back of his neck bristled. Instead of hearing music and the noise of a party, he heard muffled sounds of women crying and a male voice giving orders. American. New York accent.
Ducking into the bushes, he did a quick recon. Four men. Armed to the teeth. One hostage with a gun to her head. The wedding singer. Darci something.
Moving at a low crouch toward the nearest guard, Jack came up behind him, slid an arm around his throat and yanked him backward. He choked him out before the guy even knew what had happened, and took his weapon. Then he headed for the next one.
Too late.
Someone noticed.
The guy holding the wedding singer shouted and twisted in a tight circle without letting go of her, waving his gun at the other guards. A couple of them grabbed the loot in the middle of the floor and shoved it into a bag as Jack skirted the bar toward the guy who’d been left in charge of finding him. Definitely the wedding to rob. Many of guests were as wealthy as Renee’s family.
Over his dead body would they get away with this.
A guard snuck behind a palm tree and picked up his pace. Then all hell broke loose. The flashing lights and sirens from island authorities pumped up the tension. People began shouting, women screamed. A crowd this size wouldn’t be hard to control, but in a panic and with one of their guards down it would be a challenge.
The guard suddenly joined the action, giving up on his search. Jack cursed, taking cover behind a palm tree. He leaned out to take a look. They were preparing to leave.
The New Yorker still held the wedding singer. She didn’t belong in this crowd. He and Paul used to wait tables in digs like this. He knew who dined here and who worked here.
Then again, maybe she did. She was more beautiful than any other woman here. The sapphire blue dress flowed over her lithe body in a way that would bring any man to his knees. Her voice still haunted him. There may not be a million of dollars of jewels adorning her neck and fingers, but her voice was worth ten times that.
She looked over and saw him. Her eyes widened. He shook his head. With a barely perceptible nod she glanced away as the man holding her jerked her around and started issuing orders to his men.
One of the guards moved away. Toward him. Jack grinned. Come on over, buddy. As soon as the guy hit the sand, Jack grabbed him and took him down the same as the first one.
Two down. Two to go.
He crouched over the unconscious guard, confiscated his weapon and started to rise when a pair of leather boots appeared next to his foot.
Before he could react, the butt of a gun slammed down on the back of his head. Pain exploded. The ground rose to meet him.
*
Darci watched a tall woman in a ski mask hit the groomsman in the back of the head with the butt of her gun. He fell to the ground, out cold.
Not good. Not good at all. The groomsman had been doing a pretty good job taking out the guards. Had managed to confiscate one of their weapons. And now he was unconscious.
She wished the woman hadn’t gotten the jump on him. Where had she come from, anyway? Obviously with the group. A ski mask covered her head like the others and she wore all black. Until now, she’d remained out of sight.
“Round ’em up.”
The order came from the woman. The man holding her began dragging her toward the beach. She fought his grip, panicked.
In the distance she could hear police sirens. Closer now. Seconds away.
She had to stall them. Long enough for the authorities to arrive. And for the guy on the beach to wake up.
But when she aimed an elbow at the man’s ribs he laughed and jerked her closer to him. “You’re a feisty one, aren’t you?”
“Let me go.”
“Oh, no, sweetheart. I’m not letting you go,” he said. “You have something I want.”
A shudder worked its way down her spine. No, she didn’t. She had absolutely nothing he wanted. Something told her he didn’t mean her necklace.
Dread stole through Darci. As much as she wanted to believe the authorities were going to arrive in time, she feared they’d be too late.
One of the guards picked up the groomsman off the beach and slung him over his shoulder. Another guard forced her across the beach toward the marina.
His gun barrel pressed into her side as he guided her down the dock.
She saw a couple strolling toward their yacht on the next dock and knew she had one shot at getting out of this. So without warning, she opened her mouth and called out. The blow that came hard and fast to her jaw cut her off before she made more than a squeak.
*
Darci groaned and forced her eyes open through the migraine pounding in her head. If she didn’t know better she’d think Brian, her band’s drummer, practiced inside her head for their next gig. Her neck felt raw, as if someone had tried to strangle her. But her necklace still rested on her neck.
Unable to see in the darkness, she heard the hum of a motor below her. A boat. She tried to move, only to find herself bound and gagged. The thought of being gagged made her gag and she fought to keep from choking to death behind the cloth shoved into her mouth.
She pulled against her bonds but they held tight. Exhausted, she lay still. No use. Even if she did free herself, where would she go? She couldn’t swim well enough to get away.
The boat turned sharply, throwing her into the wall. The motor powered down and the boat slowed until they came to a complete stop. She heard people moving above her, then footsteps outside her door. She recognized the voice of the American man who had hit her.
Her door opened a couple minutes later and a light clicked on. Darci blinked against the glare and turned her head away from the man standing in the doorway. She didn’t have to look to know him. She could smell his rancid cologne.
“Open those pretty blue eyes for me, darling,” he said.
Darci opened her eyes. Her head already hurt from the first time he’d hit her; she didn’t want to anger him again.
“That’s better. Come on, up you go.”
He cut the ropes securing her ankles and dragged her to her feet. The boat rocked beneath her, causing her to bump into the door on her way out.
“You can call me Heath.” He led her up the stairs to the main deck.
Heath walked her across the dock past a line of armed guards and onto a beach lit by torches toward a house hidden by trees. The front door opened up into a courtyard with a garden full of colorful flowers in the center. He propelled her through another door that led inside the house, then led her down a hallway and turned along another before pushing her inside a fully furnished bedroom.
After removing her gag and bonds, Heath moved to lock her inside the room. He paused at the door. “Just so you know, we will find a way to remove that necklace. Whatever trick there is to the clasp will only keep it around your neck until my sister is finished dealing with other matters. Personally, I could care less about it. My interests are more…personal.” With that he closed and locked the door.
Darci sank down on the bed. Sweet Mercy. A prisoner.
*
Jack groaned and stiffened against his bonds as a fist land
ed a blow to his side. He swung in a circle, his toes dragging on the floor.
He received another blow to his kidney. The same kidney. Jack scowled and swung his legs up and around the thug’s neck. The steel cuffs cut cruelly into his wrists as he jerked the guy backward and got a better grip on him, then squeezed until the other two started hammering on him. He’d been doing okay until they hit his bruised ribs and he almost passed out, forced to let go of the guy he had in a chokehold. Dots danced in front of his eyes as he swung on his chain, head bowed.
The door opened and he looked up without lifting his head to see a tall, svelte blond woman walk in. She wore black like her cohorts, her pale green eyes running over him from head to toe. He didn’t remember a woman with the group, but he recognized those boots.
“Leave us,” she ordered and the three thugs filed out of the room. Once the door shut, she circled around him. Her eyes were cold, yet curious as she studied him. She came to a stop in front of him, her perfume teasing his senses. “You took out two of my men.”
It took effort, but Jack raised his head, surprised to find himself staring her in the eye. He stood six two. She had to be almost six feet without heels.
“Who are you?”
Jack spit a stream of blood on the floor next to her four-inch spike heel and remained silent.
“You jeopardized a job tonight. I lost a substantial amount of money. You don’t look like the local police, so who are you?”
Still, he remained silent.
“Strong, silent type, hmm? Well, I have a cure for that.”
She turned to go, but he stopped her. “What are you going to do with me?”
At the door she stopped and turned a feline smile on him, making his blood run cold.
“Make you pay, of course.” She left the room.
What the hell had he gotten involved in?
*
“Come on, baby, give it up,” Darci muttered, twisting the straightened bobby pin with a flick of her wrist. She sat on her knees peering through the keyhole on the door. In one hand she held a bobby pin she’d taken out of her hair and straightened so she could use it to jimmy the lock. No way she’d sit around here waiting for Heath to come back. Not after the way he looked at her.
Good thing she had pinned her hair up this evening or she’d be taking the bed apart searching for a screw that would fit in the lock.
Closing one eye, she bit down on her lip and turned the pin again, finessing it inside the lock. That should just about…click.
Darci grinned and carefully twisted the handle. The door snicked open.
As quietly as possible she stuck her head out the door and looked both ways down the empty hallway before sneaking out. Pressed against the wall, she tiptoed toward the opposite end. She made it ten steps when voices drifted from another room, getting steadily louder.
Panicked, Darci turned down the closest hallway and searched for a place to hide. A door stood at the end so she ran toward it as the voices grew closer. She recognized the sharp tone of the woman from the beach and cursed her luck. Please let that door be unlocked.
She lunged through it and slid to a stop with a hand clamped over her mouth. A man hung from the ceiling by a pair of steel handcuffs, chin to chest, eyes closed. His arms were stiff from strain and from where she stood she could see the bulge of well-honed muscle beneath the white dress shirt, now stained with blood.
The groomsman.
The voices outside grew louder and Darci frantically looked around for a place to hide. The room was bare except for the man dangling from the ceiling. Now what?
“There’s a door behind me,” the man said as he swayed on his chain. “You can hide there.”
Darci hurried around him. Bingo. She opened the door to reveal a closet, but paused before going in.
She turned back to the man. “I’ll help you.” Then she slipped into the closet seconds before the outer door opened.
*
Inside the closet Darci pressed a fist to her mouth to stop from screaming. The muffled thuds of the groomsman being beaten and the grate of steel against chain made her sick. She had to help him. She couldn’t stay here and do nothing.
She searched the small closet for something she could use as a weapon. Empty except for a broom and bucket. She wrapped her hands around the broom, then took a deep breath. Not much, but all she had. If she broke it in half it would work as a weapon, enough to wound one of them.
Taking a deep breath she burst out of the closet. She saw four men using her hero as a punching bag and without thinking slammed the end of her broom across one guard’s back. The broom busted in half with a crack that vibrated down her arm. Wood splintered in all directions as the handle exploded. The guy let out a surprised howl and fell to his knees.
Before the others could react, Darci swung the broken broom handle and hit him square in the face, breaking his nose and probably a couple teeth. She cringed but didn’t look for blood. She had to take him out or he would come back and hurt her. Not a risk she was willing to take.
When the guy fell flat she went after the next one, knowing she had to get it done before they killed the guy swinging on his chain behind her. She swung at the second guy. He anticipated a blow to his midsection but she aimed lower and got him in the groin, the one place she knew would put him out of commission for a while. It did. He went down like a ton of bricks.
She spun around to face off with the two remaining guards that had ceased their attack on the man nearly unconscious behind her. They were staring at her as if unsure how to proceed. She could imagine how she looked with adrenaline pumping through her system and waving a broomstick. She felt out of control, like a mad woman. With any luck they would decide she was mad and high tail it out of there. In truth, she didn’t like hurting people and had never known she had it in her to do so, but they weren’t hurting this guy anymore.
“Well, which one of you wants to join your friends?” she taunted in a voice that didn’t belong to her. The woman speaking sounded deranged. She had no idea how to take on two men and was scared spitless, but what choice did she have? Their lives were on the line. Too late to stop now.
Darci readjusted her grip on the broom handle and held it like a baseball bat over her shoulder.
The man closest to her lunged and she swung the broom.
She hit him in the chest instead of the face like she’d planned. The broom busted again and splintered in her hand.
He retaliated and swung at her.
She squeezed her eyes shut and braced for the blow. Someone pushed her out of the way from behind. She stumbled sideways from the force of it and looked back to see she’d been pushed by the man she’d been protecting. He swung in a full circle and lifted his legs up and over her attacker’s head. She watched in awe as he squeezed and twisted at the waist, cutting off the guy’s air supply.
The last guy jumped to action. Darci shot up from the floor to intercept. Her dress limited her movement and she half-ran, half-stumbled into the man, hitting him at the waist just before he reached the man on the chain. They fell to the floor with Darci on top. A second body fell on top of her and she screamed.
Darci squirmed out from beneath the dead weight before the man beneath her reacted. She hit the floor and rolled away, but he snagged her ankle and jerked her across the floor, scraping her palms and knees. He flipped her onto her back and pounced on top of her. Grabbing her head, he slammed it on the floor, then jumped off her and ran out the door. Darci lay there, dazed and waiting for her vision to return.
“The key,” a husky male voice said. “On the guard. Hurry.”
Darci blinked, groaned, and rose to a sitting position. She looked up to see the man swinging on the chain staring at her. He fought to remain conscious and it spurred her into action. She pushed to her knees and crawled to the guard she’d hit in the groin, frantically searching for the keys.
“Other one.”
Nodding, Darci moved to the other one and dug the
keys out of his pants pocket. “Got them.” She held them in the air.
“Hurry, there’s more coming.”
Darci stood and hurried to his side, but when she looked up she realized she couldn’t reach his hands.
“You’re too tall.”
She braced a hand on his waist to keep him still and stretched as high as she could. Not even close. She lowered back down and let out a frustrated sound.
“’S okay. Go now.”
Darci looked up into a pair of warm brown eyes. “I won’t leave you. They’ll kill you.”
“Never happen, I have nine lives. Only used three so far.”
She let out a burst of air that was half-laugh, half-sob and shook her head. “Well, you’re not using any more tonight. Wait! The closet.”
Chapter Two
‡
What the hell? Jack fought against his restraints in a surge of anger. Stay put, how hard was that? She never should have left the closet. Now they were in real trouble. He could take a beating, no problem, but he couldn’t protect her while he hung from a freaking chain in the ceiling. What had she been thinking going head to head against four men with nothing but a broomstick? A broomstick that managed to take out two of them, mind you. Not bad.
One tough cookie, he’d give her that. Terrified or not, she’d faced the enemy and not backed down. Jack helped the best he could by pushing her out of the way and taking down one of them. He’d wanted to snap the guy’s neck, but settled for squeezing the breath out of him until he passed out.
Right now she stood on an overturned bucket unlocking his cuffs. Resourceful, too. He smelled the spicy scent that clung to her skin as she pressed full against him in order to reach his wrists. If he’d had use of his hands he would have touched the soft skin wrapped around him. She tantalized his senses and had him thinking of other, inappropriate matters rather than the predicament they were in.
“Just about…got it,” she cried as his hands released.
His feet dropped to the floor and he winced when he lowered his arms. He rolled his shoulders to get some feeling back in his limbs and glanced down when an arm slid around his waist and a soft body leaned into his.
SEALs of Summer: Military Romance Superbundle - Navy SEAL Style Page 101