Inside Ethan’s head, reality, conjecture, and reason meshed to form an image of what had happened—and anticipate what might happen next.
It was the next part that had his gut twisting like a ball of snakes.
Hours had passed since he’d gotten the call that Paul Corcoran had nabbed Georgie. During that time, he and Nate had interviewed some of Corcoran’s employees, made phone calls, and driven to places Paul might have taken her. Nothing.
Afternoon had begun melting into evening. Soon it would be dark, and still no sign of her, or the men who’d abducted her. Nearly half a day had passed during which time anything could have happened to the woman he loved.
If he let himself think of what Corcoran and his thugs might have done, might be doing to her even now, it would drive him crazy; he wouldn’t be able to focus. She was in the hands of an admitted rapist who believed she’d murdered his father, not to mention two felons who made their living hurting…
“You okay, Ethan?”
He blinked away the images and nodded at his brother. “Yeah. Just lost in thought for a second.”
“We’ll find her,” Nate said. “From what I’ve seen of Georgie, she’s tough. She’ll make it through.”
Sucking in a deep breath, Ethan gave his brother a sharp nod. Until this was over, he had to set aside his personal feelings so his brain could analyze, evaluate, conclude. Georgie deserved nothing less than every ounce of brainpower he owned if he was to get her back—but damn, it was easier said than done.
Tell Ethan—she’d shouted the words at Raine.
Tell Ethan what? Tell Ethan not to worry? Tell Ethan which way we went? Tell Ethan I love him?
If she thought she was going to die, which of those things would she say?
But he knew. He already knew.
“Okay,” he said. “They’ve grabbed Georgie, gotten her into the boat. Now what? Where do they go? And how fast? If they clip along at too high a rate of speed, they risk attracting the attention of the Harbor Patrol, so they’re going to take it slow. Seventeen, maybe twenty knots.”
Nate snorted. “It’s after seven now. Even if Corcoran used his dick as a rudder and his ears as oars, they still could’ve made Alta Vista by two or three.”
Ethan stared over at Nate. “Great. Now I’m going to have that image stuck in my head for days.”
With a wiggle of his brows and a flash of white teeth, Nate said, “Not my problem.”
Ignoring his brother for the moment, Ethan leaned back behind the wheel, turning the calculations and logic over and over in his brain. “It’s been like pea soup off the coast all day. Very low viz. My bet is, they’ve been dinking around all afternoon, hiding in the mist, waiting for nightfall so they can dock. Either they left a car inside the marina lot or nearby.”
Nate adjusted his glasses, then pulled out his cell and punched in some numbers. Putting the phone to his ear, he said, “So using your logic, they haven’t hit land yet. It’ll be pitch-dark in less than an hour, so…Yeah, hi. I need the number for the Alta Vista Marina? Great, can you connect me, please?”
Ethan shut down the computer and cranked the engine, listening to Nate’s conversation.
“…it’s not? You’re sure? What’s the slip number? Yeah, thanks. Look, we’ll be there in fifteen. If he docks before we get there, call me immediately. Yeah, Inspector Darling. Uh-huh. Don’t go there, pal,” he growled. He gave the guard his cell phone number, ended the call, and shoved the phone into his jacket pocket. “I’m changing my name.”
“Yeah, gets old. What’d he say?”
“You were right, big brother. According to the logbook, Paul Corcoran and two guests took the boat out early this morning, but have not returned.”
“What about his car? Did he leave it in the lot?”
“Yes, it’s an SUV, and it’s still there.”
Ethan mulled it over. “If they douse their running lights, they probably think they can nav right into the slip unnoticed. If they’re lucky, there won’t be a lot of people around, it’s a foggy night, they spirit Georgie off the boat and into the SUV, then drive away without anybody being the wiser.”
“But where do they go from there?”
“Nowhere. Because we’re going to be there to stop them.”
By the time they reached the marina, it was dark. Nate flashed his badge at the guard, who let them pass without comment.
“Slip D-2,” Nate said. Gesturing, he added, “I think it’s down that way.”
Even though it was a weeknight, the parking lot was moderately full. Couples strolled from their cars or up from the dock to the club house restaurant for an expensive dinner, fine wine, quiet conversation.
As the two men made their way through the mist, down the dock toward Slip D-2, Ethan heard the sound of a speedboat in the distance, slowly chugging toward them through the fog.
He touched Nate’s arm. “Hear it?” Reaching under his jacket, he eased the .38 from the holster snuggly strapped to his shoulder, as his brother made a grunting sound and did the same.
A man and a woman, tightly wrapped around each other, began walking onto the dock, but Nate flashed his badge and quietly asked them to return to the restaurant. Wide-eyed and apologetic, they rushed away, glancing nervously over their shoulders.
As the boat came closer, Ethan thought his heart would burst in his chest. What if this wasn’t Corcoran after all? What if he’d guessed wrong and this was just some guy returning from an all day fishing trip? What if…so many things, none of them good.
Crouching, he took cover behind a clump of pilings, then eased himself up so he could see over the top. Beside him, his brother did the same.
The motor went silent as the bow of the boat materialized through the mist. Momentum carried it quietly right into Slip D–2. It made a thumping noise as it smacked into the bumper on the side of the dock.
Ethan swallowed, and the sound reverberated in his ears like a gunshot.
He felt Nate move away and behind him, farther into the shadows. A moment later, he heard his brother on his cell, calling for backup.
The man Lucas had described as Honcho threw a line around a dock cleat, while the other thug, probably Drool, shut off the engine. No one spoke as Paul stood, bracing his legs to keep from falling out of the rocking boat.
Ethan’s gaze fell on Georgie, sitting at the stern, and he thought he’d go nuts with relief. At first, his blood boiled with rage, then chilled, forming icicles sharp enough to pierce his veins.
They could have killed her, dumped her body anywhere in the bay. Though he hadn’t dared let himself voice it to Nate, the thought had been there all the same, eating away at his brain. Her hands were bound in front of her, but from what he could see, she was all right. She was alive—and he was going to make damn sure she stayed that way.
Paul reached down and yanked Georgie to her feet. Her body fell against his, and she struggled to push herself away.
“Keep that mouth of yours shut,” he warned. “If I tape it, somebody might notice, but if you make one single tiny little sound, I’ll kill you right here, right now. Remember, I have nothing to lose…”
Through the darkness and the mist, Ethan couldn’t see her eyes clearly, but if he knew Georgie, there’d be fury in them.
And fear.
The thought sickened him. When this was over, he’d make sure she was never afraid of anything ever again. If it took the rest of his life, he’d make sure.
Honcho and Drool jumped onto the dock, then turned to help Georgie from the boat. As soon as Paul’s feet touched the pier, he grabbed Georgie’s arm. “Remember what I said, sugar tits.”
Just then, the door to the restaurant at the end of the marina burst open, and a group of people spilled out onto the upper dock. Light from the interior splashed across the scene, illuminating Paul and his grip on Georgie’s arm.
Paul and his goons stood frozen, uncertain what to do. And in that moment, everything changed.
Ge
orgie whirled, lashing out at Paul with her foot. She connected with the back of his knee, and he stumbled. With her bound hands, she formed a fist, slamming into his face, sending him backward into the speedboat, where he lay stunned and motionless.
“Fire!” she screamed. “Help! Fire, fire! Over here! Fire!”
As one, Ethan and Nate rounded the pilings.
“Police!” Nate shouted. “Hands in the air! Now!”
Honcho bared his teeth and grabbed for Georgie. His arm around her throat, he yanked her against his chest. “Back off or I break her neck!” With his free hand, he reached behind him and pulled out a revolver, placing it against her jaw.
Nobody moved. In the distance, the sound of sirens screaming toward the marina made the crowd of civilians break into confused chatter. Quickly, they backed away to the safety of the restaurant.
“There’s nowhere for you to run, Honcho!” Ethan shouted. “Give it up. Let her go. No need to make this worse than it already is!”
“I can take him,” Nate said under his breath. The revolver in his hands was aimed directly at Honcho’s head. “Say when.”
Behind Honcho, Drool looked like he might make a move, then thought better of it, put his hands in the air, and sat on the dock.
“Honcho!” Ethan yelled. “Drop your goddamned weapon and let her go!”
In a rush, that night came back to him—a sickening flashback he’d hoped never to witness again. The lights, the sirens, the desperate man holding a woman Ethan loved hostage.
He felt his palms grow slick and he was afraid he’d drop his weapon. Beads of sweat formed on his brow, on the back of his neck, trickled down his spine. Cold sweat. Deadly cold. His stomach soured and his muscles cramped. Not again…he would not let this happen again…
His gaze shifted to Georgie. Honcho’s arm was around her throat, nearly choking her. The gun pressed to her jaw made her mouth flatten in pain, but there was no pain in her eyes. No anger. No fear. What he did see there shocked him to the core.
Trust. Complete and total trust.
Georgie, who had rarely trusted anyone in her life, trusted him with that very life.
“Georgie,” he whispered, and she smiled at him.
“I love you,” she mouthed. “Go for it.”
Somebody shouted, somebody screamed, somebody ran. Sirens blared, people yelled. A shot shattered the night, then another.
Honcho cursed, slammed Georgie in the side of the head with his fist, then shoved her toward the edge of the dock. She stumbled, seemed to try and catch her balance, but toppled over the edge and into the water.
Ethan bolted around the pilings, running like hell toward where she’d fallen. Through the mist, he saw Honcho take aim. He vaguely registered a shout behind him, then an explosion. Honcho’s somber expression changed to surprise, and his weapon fell from his fingers. As Ethan dove for the water, Honcho’s lifeless body crumpled to the dock.
Shock numbed him as he went deep and the cold sea closed over his head. He kicked and shot for the surface.
How much time had passed? She’d been punched, stunned. Her hands were tied. She wouldn’t be able to swim.
“Georgie!” he shouted, his mouth and nostrils filled with salty water. Déjà vu hit him, sickened him, and still he kept calling her name.
He swam under the dock, but it was too dark to see. Then somebody else was beside him in the water.
“Did you find her?” his brother shouted.
“No!” Ethan slapped at the water, twisted, stopped, listened. “Georgie!”
“Eth-Ethan!” came the broken cry. Silence. She’d gone under again.
“Somebody get some lights down here!” Nate yelled as Ethan turned toward the sound of Georgie’s voice.
He went under again. His arms outstretched, he tried to grab hold of her. He stayed under, kicking, reaching, praying until his lungs nearly burst. Shooting for the surface, he gulped more air, then went down again.
His fingers splayed, he reached and grabbed and clawed and clutched, and this time, he connected.
Grasping a fistful of her shirt, he shot once more for the surface, pulling her to him, holding her close, lifting her shoulders out of the water.
She gasped once, choked, then…nothing.
“No!” he rasped, his voice hoarse from the shouting and the salt water. Pressing his shaking fingers against her neck, he checked for a pulse. Couldn’t find it. He moved his fingers, searching, searching, desperate to find her heartbeat.
There. There it was. Like a butterfly on his fingertips.
He took in a lungful of air, pressed his mouth to hers, and breathed his life into her. And again. And again.
Finally, she moved, shifted in his grasp. He felt her arms slide over his head, her bound hands holding him captive.
Somewhere in the distance, in a world outside his own, he heard his brother shouting for paramedics.
“Georgie,” Ethan breathed. “You okay?”
His vision blurred, but it wasn’t the chill Pacific stinging his eyes.
“You found me,” she said weakly. “I knew you’d come. We had a deal. I didn’t forget.”
“Yeah,” he choked. “We had a deal.”
He couldn’t say anything more, so he only held her close, letting the frigid water buoy him up while they waited to be hoisted out of the water.
“You were gutsy,” he finally managed. “Smart, to yell fire.” He stroked her hair away from her face. “Grasshopper, I…you have to know…I should have told you before…”
She raised her face and pressed a cold, salty kiss on his mouth, halting his bungled confession of love. “I know, Master,” she whispered. “I know.”
Epilogue
So what happens if you feng shui your world, and you still don’t meet the man of your dreams? Keep at it, of course! Continue with your affirmations, your positive visualizations, keep your mind open, and follow your heart. Feng shui works; don’t give up on it, and it won’t give up on you!
Georgiana Darling’s Feng Shui for Newlyweds
Six months later…
“Ethan?” Georgie shouted. “I’m up here!” She tossed the ivory silk dress over her head, smoothing it down her hips. Glancing quickly at the bed, she bit her lip.
A moment later, Ethan appeared in the doorway, smiled at her, then immediately scowled. “You moved my bed again.”
“Our bed. You don’t want to get sick, do you? Or die in your sleep?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Listen, Mrs. Darling. Since we got married, you’ve moved that bed three times, scattered or replaced the furniture in the living room four times, and put little red tassels on every electronic gadget in the house.”
“Cures,” she said, as she hunted in the enormous walk-in closet for the shoes that matched her dress. “Red offsets the negative chi of all those harmful electrode thingies. Ah, there they are,” she muttered, spying the pair of heels.
As she bent to slip the shoes on, he came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, then sliding his hands lower, splaying his fingers across her abdomen.
“I like your baby bump,” he said, then kissed the back of her neck.
“All that unprotected sex was bound to lead to an increase in the population,” she said dryly. “You need to get a hobby.”
“I have one,” he said, and nuzzled her neck again.
Straightening, she leaned back against his hard chest and placed her hands over his. “Not much of a baby bump yet,” she said. “Catch me again in six months, and you won’t even be able to get your arms around me.”
“I’ll always be able to get my arms around you, Grasshopper,” he promised softly. “What time do we have to be there?”
She snuggled against him, happier than she’d ever imagined she could be. She’d married the man of her dreams, and was pregnant with their first child—the first of many, she hoped. Though Paul hadn’t spent a day in jail because of the rapes, he and Drool had been convicted of kid
napping and assault; they’d both be in prison a long, long time.
As for Iona, while she had been convicted of manslaughter, her case was under appeal, and Georgie and Ethan were doing all they could to try and get her a new trial.
“The wedding’s at two,” she said, “but I told Raine we’d be there at one. Lucas’s sons flew in last night, so I promised we’d watch Caroline and the boys until the ceremony starts.”
Ethan grunted, then kissed the back of her neck again. Nudging her toward the bed, he said, “Sit.”
“We don’t have time—”
“Not for that,” he interrupted.
She sat and looked up at him, and her heart fluttered just like it did every time she saw him, or thought of him, or kissed him, or thought of him, or slept with him, or thought of him…
“I have a wedding present for you,” he said, digging into his pocket. He pulled out a small black velvet box, then crouched in front of her and placed it in her hand. “I hope you like it.”
She blinked in confusion. “But today is Lucas and Raine’s wedding day, not ours. And you already gave me a wonderful wedding present.” She patted her tummy. “Something I’ve always wanted.”
His hazel eyes gleamed. “I know. But I saw this, and thought of you, and wanted you to have it. I think it’ll go perfectly with your outfit.”
His grin told her there was something…unusual about this gift. Something special and secret between them, and her heart fluttered all over again.
Holding the little box in her palm, she slowly opened the lid. “Oh, Ethan!” she choked, tears of surprise and joy filling her eyes. “It’s perfect. I love it. Put it on me.”
Lifting the chain out of the box, she admired the little gold grasshopper, its arms and legs bent in a jaunty dance, its tiny top hat set at a rakish angle, a happy grin on its itty-bitty face. In its gloved hand, it carried a walking stick with a small diamond for a knob.
As she stood, Ethan took the necklace from her, unclasped it, and slipped it around her neck, fastening it in back.
His fingers were warm on her skin, and she laughed, letting her happy tears flow freely.
Satisfaction Page 26