“Shall we find out? I’d be more than happy to demonstrate.”
He was smart, Jack would give him that. Instead of risking his sister’s wrath, he bent down, picked up the knife and cut Darci’s bonds.
Jack waited until she stood safely behind him. “You two, stand against the wall.”
Heath and the guard moved reluctantly to the wall while Darci pressed against Jack’s back. He could feel her trembling.
“Pick up those weapons, sweetheart,” he instructed, hating to ask, but left without a choice.
She did as he asked, uncertainty in her eyes. She held the weapons as if they were poisonous snakes, but didn’t let go and stepped behind him again.
In one swift move Jack knocked the guard out and slid him down to the floor without taking his attention off the other two. He took the knife from Darci.
“Tell your sister it’s been fun but we had to go.” He grabbed Darci’s hand and hustled her out the door.
Of course it couldn’t be that easy. Jack managed to get to the first guard before he could get a shot off, but not the other. He knocked the weapon out of guard number one’s hand and slammed the butt of his AK-47 into his face before the other knew what was happening. They hadn’t been expecting the prisoners to walk through the door.
Darci picked up the slack. She raised her weapon and brought it down on the guy’s head with a loud crack that brought him to his knees, providing Jack with the time he needed to finish the first one off and move to number two.
He didn’t have time to shelter her from the two that came bounding through the door in pursuit. Heath hit Darci head-on and tackled her down to the ground, wrestling with her for the weapon while Jack defended himself.
To her credit, she didn’t give it up easily and fought like a mad woman to get free. Jack tried to keep an eye on her and take care of the guard at the same time, and received a painful blow to the chest for his efforts. He retaliated with an upper cut to the chin and heard Darci scream behind him. By the time he freed himself and turned, Heath had slung her over his shoulder and carried her away with Darci fighting the entire way.
*
Oh, Sweet Mary, someone pounded nails into her forehead and they were really good at it. Her head hurt worse than any hangover.
She was lying on a comfortable bed that much she knew.
She remembered being tackled and slung over Heath’s shoulder. A needle injected into her arm seconds later and everything going black. Whatever Heath shot into her had given her a splitting headache and made her limbs feel like wet noodles.
Jack. Oh, God, where was Jack? Darci’s eyes flew open and she looked around for him, but found the room empty. Fear shot through her when she saw she laid spread eagle on a full size bed with her hands and feet tied by ropes to the bedposts. Her dress had ridden up on her thighs, making her feel very exposed. She knew darn well who’d done it.
He probably liked it, seeing her tied up and helpless. She tugged on the bonds to no avail. They held tight, just as she knew they would, but she had to try anyway. Jack, where are you?
An image of him hanging from the ceiling, bruised and battered, ran through her head and she ruthlessly chased it away. Jack had proven to be one tough customer. Whatever they did to him, he would survive it. He didn’t give up and he didn’t give in. She’d never met a man like him before. He wasn’t like any of the men she’d dated.
Usually she chose men that were more like her, interested in music, liked to go to festivals and concerts and liked to have a beer, a good time, uninterested in anything serious. Her lifestyle embraced chaos and a busy schedule; she didn’t have time for a serious relationship. The band toured, especially in the summer, and she hadn’t worked the wanderlust out of her system. She didn’t want to give up her life for a man. She loved the traveling, the chaos. It kept life exciting, though this trip made her have second thoughts about traveling abroad.
Glancing down at the ropes circling her ankles, she let out a long sigh. Poor Grammy would roll over in her grave if she knew the trouble the heirloom was causing Darci.
The door handle rattled and she stiffened as Heath walked in, alone. Not a good sign. She didn’t want to be alone with him. His interest in her was obvious and she had no desire to see how far he would take it. If he decided to take advantage of her she would have to stop him, somehow, trussed up like this.
She needed a weapon. Something she could cut these ropes with so she could defend herself. As much as she wished for Jack she had to keep a clear head and find a way out.
Heath stood at the foot of the bed and stared down at her through eyes that gave her the creeps.
“What did you do with Jack?” She ignored the way he stared at her chest.
“You know, this would have been easier if you’d handed over the necklace before the authorities arrived.” Heath took no notice of her question and sat on the bed next to her. “I wouldn’t have had to tie you up if I thought you’d hand it over. Hold still, darling, and tell me how to get this off. Then we’ll have some fun.”
Not in this lifetime. “You kidnapped me for my necklace?” she asked. “Why? It isn’t worth anything.”
Heath scoffed, reaching for the sturdy silver chain. “Don’t insult me, darling. I’m a collector. This necklace dates back to the druids. It’s worth a fortune and you know it.”
His hands slid the necklace around so the clasp rested on her chest. He couldn’t be lying, because he was right. The necklace was worth a fortune, but it meant more to her than money and she refused to give it up.
After a couple minutes of fiddling with the clasp Heath sat back and let out an annoyed breath. “What kind of clasp is this?”
A special one her grandmother had made so that no one but the owner could get it off. It had a special hook inside that only she knew how to unlatch. An idea formed and with a seductive smile she said, “Untie me and I’ll show you.”
Heath’s eyes lit with desire as he untied the ropes. Her skin crawled, but she managed to hold her smile until he freed her. Then she made her move, gambling and praying she came out the winner.
Chapter Four
‡
Heath pulled violently at the ropes binding him to the bed, slamming it against the wall. Shaking, Darci tore off a piece of the sheet and stuffed it into his mouth, then jumped back when he tried to lunge at her. She may not be as strong as him, but she could tie a good knot.
Her cheek bled from their struggle, but she’d had the element of surprise on her side and her self-defense knowledge put her on top. Literally. It had taken some doing but she’d managed to get Heath tied to the bed. At first he’d thought it a game but when he’d figured out what she was doing, he flew into a rage. Thankfully, she’d already had him secured.
On legs that shook, Darci ran to the door, leaving a furious Heath tied to the bed. She ran blindly down a long hallway and didn’t stop until she reached the end. She could only hope Jack had gotten out, because she couldn’t stand another minute in this house.
Head pounding, legs shaking, and heart racing, Darci rounded the corner and smacked into someone coming from the other way.
A hand clamped over her mouth, smothering her scream, and a strong arm locked around her waist, swinging her off the floor in a circle down another dark hallway. Darci struggled against her captor’s merciless grip.
No way she’d be taken by a guard after what she’d just endured with Heath. She opened her mouth and started to bite down when a hard body pressed her back against a wall.
Jack. She looked up to see the silhouette of his face in the darkness. Only he watched the hallway, his body rigid, prepared for a fight.
He must have sensed her relief because he slowly removed his hand from her mouth. His gaze remained on the two guards hurrying past them.
Her heart beat frantically in her chest. Jack must feel it. Her lungs started to burn and she had to take slow, deep breaths without making any noise. Protected in the form of Jack’s body hel
ped ease her fears.
Two more guards ran past them and she knew exactly where they were going. She didn’t want to be anywhere near when they found Heath.
Remembering the rage in Heath’s eyes, she pressed closer to Jack and slid her arms around his waist. As her hands smoothed over his narrow waist she felt something warm and sticky slide through her fingers. A tiny gasp escaped her throat. She knew exactly what it was: blood.
She looked up at the same time Jack looked down. He didn’t want her making a big deal over his wound and needed her to be quiet until the threat disappeared.
“You’re bleeding,” she whispered.
“Just a scratch.”
Darci didn’t believe him. Blood covered her hand. They kept hurting him and he kept going. He had a will of iron that came from deep within him, not smoke and mirrors. This man was the real McCoy. In that moment she knew she’d be in deep trouble if not careful. And she would be careful, because settling down wasn’t in her future plans.
The air changed around them. Time slowed down, as if they were caught in a bubble and nothing else mattered except them. Jack’s hand dropped to her waist as his hips pressed her against the wall. Her breath caught.
In the distance she could hear men’s boots pounding on the floor as they ran down the halls looking for them. She heard their shouts in the distance. She trusted Jack to keep her safe.
Every inch of him pressed against her. The blood raced through her veins. His hard, unyielding body aroused her. He was all male. Though she wasn’t accustomed to such blatant masculinity, she had no complaints.
“Jack…” She rested her other hand on his bicep. She couldn’t resist curling her fingers around it, and let her mind wander for a moment about the ways she could put that muscle to use.
Face flushed, she tilted her head back, wanting to feel his lips on hers. Would he be gentle and soft or would he take control and possess her? Sweet Mary, she wanted to find out more than she wanted off this island. Crazy, insane, and totally inappropriate behavior given the circumstances, but she didn’t care. She needed to feel more than Jack’s hands on her.
Jack’s hand flexed on her hip and she felt something hard against her skin. It threw her for a moment and she frowned, glancing down. In the shadows she saw Jack held a gun in his hand.
She’d seen the look in his eyes when he’d confiscated the guard’s weapons earlier, and noticed how comfortably he held a deadly weapon. She wouldn’t have a clue what to do with a gun if she had one in her hand. She drew the line at self-defense and pepper spray.
Darci’s fingers were covered with blood now. Jack may not be scared, but she was. If he lost too much blood he’d pass out. If that happened she wouldn’t be able to move him. Just pulling him into the corner of the cellar had taken all her strength.
“We have to stop the bleeding before you bleed to death.” She forced down her fear.
“Don’t worry about me, it’s just a scratch. We can’t stay here. They’re going to figure out soon enough both of us are gone.” He stepped away and grabbed her hand, their previous intimacy shuffled aside. “Later, when I get you to safety, you have to tell me how you escaped again. You seem to have a knack for it.”
He flashed a lopsided grin before urging her along behind him. He checked the corners before leading her into the next hallway, leaving her to wonder how this man continued to stay upbeat when danger breathed down their neck like a fiery dragon.
As soon as they were in the hallway she noticed a knife in his other hand. The gun now hung around his neck by a strap.
Glancing down, she saw blood still covered her hand. The reality of their situation crashed down on her.
God help her, she couldn’t do this. She didn’t want to lose her life or Jack.
*
Jack felt Darci pull back and paused to see her face pale and drawn, her eyes glued to her blood-covered hand.
He’d blocked out the pain the instant the guard cut him. He’d been trained to ignore pain. Darci wasn’t. They didn’t have time to stick around. They were vulnerable in the open. But when he saw her tremble he knew he couldn’t go on.
Reaching out a hand, he cupped her cheek and tilted her head up to meet his gaze.
“Darci, sweetheart,” he murmured. “It’s just a scratch. I’m going to be fine.” He cracked a smile. “I have six of my nine lives left.”
Tears swam in her eyes and she frowned, blinking them away. She tried not to cry and he gave her credit; she was tougher than she looked. He watched her pull herself together and knew he’d never meet another like her again. Her grit would make any military man proud. Hell, he was proud of her. She’d endured plenty already, yet she still managed to hold herself together and not lose her head.
He rubbed his thumb across her cheek, felt her relax beneath his touch. She trusted him. He could see it in her eyes. Humbled, he realized this woman would give her whole heart with the right man, hold nothing back. Some lucky bastard would spend the rest of his life waking up with this beautiful, spirited woman in his arms.
Jack felt the impact clear to his toes. The thought of Darci with another man knocked him right off his feet. He’d only ever felt protective over his mother. Somehow, Darci O’Shea had slipped beneath his skin and embedded herself deep. Why hadn’t he tried to remove her?
She gazed at him with a fierce expression now, her blue eyes vivid against her pale skin.
“You better not bleed to death, Jack Taggart,” she said. “If you do you’re going to find out why the Irish are accused of having tempers.”
Jack chuckled, aware her bravado covered true fear and drove his respect for her up a notch. “In that case, I better make good on my promise. Wouldn’t want to bring on the wrath of an Irish woman.”
Darci grinned. “Now you’re talking.”
Jack’s eyes dropped to her lips. She had a pretty smile. Beautiful lips. Straight, white teeth. Ah, hell, he wanted to kiss her. He’d been trying to keep a lid on his attraction, but when she smiled at him like that he couldn’t help it. She was irresistible.
Darci’s smile faltered. Her eyes darkened. Jack felt her soften beneath his hand, heard her murmur his name.
He wanted to pull her closer but the AK-47 he’d confiscated hung between them like a wall, keeping him in line. If it hadn’t been there, bringing him back to the situation at hand, he would have been backing her up against the nearest wall and doing what they both wanted.
But he didn’t. Instead, he exercised restraint and let her go, stepping back and lacing her fingers through his, calling himself a fool for being distracted when danger lurked around every corner.
“We have to move.” He pulled her forward.
*
The house held a maze of hallways. Every turn took them down another with doors on each side. Jack didn’t open them, simply continued looking for a way out. He couldn’t risk opening the wrong door and alerting the twins of their location.
His plan took a nosedive when a couple guards turned down the same hallway. He shoved Darci in the first door and followed, closing the door with barely a sound. He locked it and stood, ready for battle as the guards’ footsteps pounded past.
He had two weapons. That made him feel better, but they were still outnumbered. More guards seemed to be coming out of the woodwork. It made escape and evasion more difficult. Alone, he could easily slip out undetected but with Darci he had to take precautions. She wasn’t trained for this.
In the darkness of the small room he heard Darci’s breathing, soft and shallow. He could smell the metallic scent of his own blood. He had to stanch the flow or he would break his promise to Darci. He knew the wound needed attention.
“I think we’re in a bathroom,” Darci whispered from below him.
Jack listened to the silence outside the door. The guards passed by. He lowered the AK-47 and turned toward Darci’s voice.
“I’m going to search for a light.” He slid his hand over the wall.
“
Won’t they see it?”
“The hallway is well lit. They won’t notice.”
Bathroom. Good. With any luck there’d be a First Aid kit somewhere.
Sliding his hand farther down, he found a switch and turned on a light. Faint enough not to be seen through the crack under the door. Darci blinked from where she perched on the edge of a bathtub. She glanced at the door, then back at him.
“You’re sure they won’t see the light?” she asked.
“Even if they do, we’ll hear them coming. I won’t let them separate us again.”
As he riffled through the drawers he watched Darci out of the corner of his eye. She stared at his back and had wrapped her arms around her waist. She was scared, but who could blame her? The things she’d experienced and seen were enough to give anyone nightmares for a very, very long time.
He hated what this was doing to her. Hated that she had to go through it and hated the ones putting her through it. They said money was the root of all evil. He believed it. Darci suffered because of money and greed, and Jack refused to let them get away with it.
She may not realize it, but she had him in her corner and he could be a tad overprotective of the women in his life. His mother accepted it with reluctance and teased him for doing her job. He knew she worried about him every time he went on a mission, but she respected his career choice and supported him in every way possible. His mom was a great lady.
He wanted Darci to meet her. She would love Darci’s spunk.
Jack’s hand stilled in the drawer he searched. What was he thinking? He could count on one hand how many times he had taken a girl home to meet Mom. His dad had left when Jack turned fourteen, so the couple girls he’d brought home met only his mom.
As the captain of the swim team, he had been popular in high school, but he always put his mom’s welfare first. His mom supported them on a teacher’s salary. They didn’t have much, but they were happy. Jack had never been ashamed of their tiny four-room apartment or struggle to make ends meet. He was proud of his mom for having the strength to do it.
SEALs of Summer: Military Romance Superbundle - Navy SEAL Style Page 104