by Romancing the Crown Series (13-in-1 bundle) (v1. 0) (lit)
"What are you thinking?"
"This is perfect. If I could get on that boat, I could apprehend Chambers."
"It's too dangerous," she said immediately. "Chambers will be watching the dinghy and be ready for you."
"Who says I'll be using the dinghy?"
Kate studied him. His jaw was set. His eyes gleamed with anticipation. It was the same expression she'd seen when he'd jumped from the helicopter and when he'd dived in the cavern.
Damn him, she thought. She even loved his recklessness.
"I think Chambers has to be concealed on the bridge," Sam continued. "Looks like her friend has been taking orders from her."
"That's what I thought, but—"
"As long as you keep them distracted, I can take them off guard. Tell him I'm finding an extra pump or filling fuel cans."
"Sam—"
"We don't know whether the fleet got back in place after the storm, Kate. There might be no one else in the vicinity to catch up to Chambers and her friend."
"If they're low on fuel—"
"They could still disappear. We can't let her get past us."
She knew that. She had to put her worry aside and have faith in Sam. "For God's sake, be careful. You know what that woman is capable of."
"No problem. She doesn't know what I'm capable of."
"Take the gun. I've got it behind my back."
"No, you keep it."
"Sam—"
"You can give me cover fire if I need it."
"But—"
"Wish me luck, partner." He gave her a swift kiss and slipped to the other side of the cabin.
Sam steeled himself to ignore the shock of cold as he lowered himself into the water. He heard Kate call to the man on the Penelope, something about having to locate a spare fuel can, and he smiled tightly in satisfaction. He'd meant what he'd said—she was a good officer to have at his back. But every protective instinct in him wished her post was a bit farther away.
Flattening his palms against the hull, he rode the swells with the boat as he moved toward the stern. He breathed deeply to saturate his blood with oxygen. Even though Kate would do her best to distract attention, Sam intended to cover the distance between the two boats underwater. He checked the position of the sun relative to the boats to fix his bearings, then pushed off from the hull and submerged.
The silence was startling, as it always was on a dive. He kicked downward to propel himself beneath the rolling surface, and the pressure of the sea turned him weightless. He'd done countless dives on countless missions, so he didn't doubt his ability. Only this mission was different because it wasn't his team who depended on him, it was Kate.
She'd been correct in her reasoning that Chambers and her accomplice needed fuel. But Sam was sure Chambers wouldn't want to leave witnesses. That's why Sam wanted Kate to keep the gun. Chambers had killed the king's nephew and her own sister. She had nothing to lose.
Simply because Sam hadn't seen Chambers yet didn't mean that she wasn't there. He'd been studying the body language of her accomplice, and it wasn't only seasickness that was making the man sweat. He was scared.
Which should make what Sam had to do that much easier. He saw the dark shape materialize in the distance and swam toward it. By the time the hull of the fishing boat loomed overhead his lungs were aching for air, but he continued to the far side of the boat, taking care to keep clear of the propeller. Although the sound of the idling engine and the waves would mask any splashing, he took care to surface quietly. He resisted the urge to gasp. Instead, he filled his lungs in slow, steady inhalations, keeping as close to the hull as possible.
Sam heard voices overhead, a man's and a woman's, confirming his assumption that the bearded man wasn't alone. They were speaking low so the sound wouldn't carry across the water. Sam had to strain to make out what they were saying.
"That's disgusting, Edwardo. Can't you throw up somewhere else? I have to sit on this floor."
"I need to keep the boat steady but I want to stay where I can see that sloop. I don't trust them."
"You're being paranoid. Didn't you take a good look at them? They're just a pair of dumb tourists."
"Then where's the man?"
"That beach boy's filling the gas cans, just like his girlfriend said. They want to help."
"He could be using the radio and—"
"Once we get their gas we'll be long gone. They're not going to be telling anybody anything."
"What do you mean? I didn't agree—"
"Like I said, leave the thinking to me." The boat rocked on a wave. "Edwardo, watch out! These are my last pair of shoes."
There was a retching sound. Sam felt a twinge of sympathy for the man's discomfort, but then he heard the sound of heavy footsteps on the deck and he wiped all other thoughts out of his mind. The man called Edwardo must have descended from the flying bridge. This was Sam's chance.
He craned his neck, assessing potential handholds and judging the distance to the gunwale. He kicked hard to propel himself as far as possible out of the water, caught the edge of a scupper with his fingertips and hoisted himself over the side of the boat.
He came down practically on top of Edwardo. The element of surprise was definitely in Sam's favor. The man had no time for more than a strangled curse before Sam administered a swift knuckle jab to his solar plexus.
Edwardo crumpled to the deck unconscious. Sam patted him down to check for weapons, all the while watching for any sign of movement from the bridge where he deduced Chambers was hiding. He moved to the base of the steps and flattened himself against the cabin, only then sparing a quick glance across the water.
The gap between the two boats was widening. Kate was at the stern, her attention apparently focused on unlashing the dinghy, but he knew she'd seen what had happened. He could tell by the stiff set of her shoulders and the way she was keeping her right hand free near her side.
"Edwardo?" a voice whispered. "Where are you? The boat's drifting. You have to get back up here."
Sam settled his weight on the balls of his feet, his gaze riveted to the top of the stairs.
"Edwardo?" The voice spoke again, growing nearer. The crown of a dark head appeared above him. "What... oh, get up, you idiot. You're not that sick."
Chambers was some piece of work, Sam thought. The sooner she was in custody, the better. He leaped up the stairs to the bridge, hoping surprise would work as well with her as it did with her accomplice.
It did. The woman screamed and scrambled backward.
Sam had seen Ursula Chambers's photo. He'd read every detail about her background and her actions that he could get his hands on. He thought he'd known what to expect. But the woman who was crouching on the floor beside the wheel was like a poor artist's caricature of someone once considered beautiful.
The hair that had been blond, her flowing, shoulder-length, trademark locks, was now a dull black. It hung in limp tangles to her chin. The features that had looked so striking in her photograph were pinched with fatigue and impatience. Dark, puffy circles marred the skin beneath her eyes, and her full lips were colorless and pressed thin.
All these details Sam registered in an instant. Yet Chambers's loss of beauty couldn't be attributed to her ragged appearance. Her looks had been a shell. It was the character of the woman inside the shell that now shone through.
And within the blue gaze that was directed at him, Sam glimpsed pure evil.
"Ursula Chambers," he said. "As an officer in the United States Navy under King Marcus's command, I'm placing you under arrest."
There was a flicker of defiance on her face. "Who are you? How did you get here? What—"
"I'm placing you under arrest," he repeated.
She didn't move. Defiance changed instantly to calculation. From her crouch she studied him, her gaze traveling up and down his body in a perusal that made Sam's flesh crawl. "There's some mistake," she said. "I'm not—"
"Ma'am, I'm wet, I'm tired and I'm not in the moo
d for games. Please stand up and move away from the wheel."
She tossed her hair with a flick of her head and held out her hand toward him. "I hurt my ankle in the storm. I can't stand up."
He looked down. She wore skintight black pants that ended at the base of her calves. Her feet were squeezed into narrow open-back shoes. There was no sign of discoloration or swelling on her ankles, so she was probably lying. He crossed his arms. "Then slide away from the wheel."
She looked down. There was a puddle of bile near her feet, likely the result of her friend's last bout of nausea. She lifted her shoulders and shuddered. It appeared she was deliberately making her breasts jiggle under her sweater. "Please. I can't. Couldn't you help me?"
It would be so much simpler if he could knock Chambers out, Sam thought, but he'd never yet struck a woman. He would have to get something to tie her up with. He glanced around.
In the next instant, the boat surged forward. Sam staggered to regain his balance, whipping his gaze to Chambers.
She was on her feet, one hand on the throttle lever, the other holding a speargun.
He lunged at Chambers, but his foot came down on something slippery. Pain exploded in his chest, sending Sam tumbling backward down the steps to the deck.
Chapter 15
It was a nightmare. Not a dream produced by her guilt and memories but a real, living nightmare. As if in slow motion, Kate watched Sam arch backward through the air and fall to the deck. A gleaming metal shaft projected obscenely from his chest.
She wanted to scream and cover her eyes. She wanted to tell herself it wasn't really happening. But it was. Ursula Chambers had just shot Sam. And Kate was the only one who could help him. She whipped the pistol from her waistband and sighted on the black-haired female who stood on the Penelope's bridge, but the boat was pitching too badly. If Kate fired and missed, she might hit Sam.
She raced for the cockpit. Willing her fingers to stop trembling, she hit the starter button for the engine. "Oh, please. Please start."
There was a slow cranking noise, then nothing.
"No," she shouted. "No!"
At Kate's cry, Chambers looked toward her. She was fumbling for something out of sight on the bridge. A moment later, she straightened with another thin metal shaft in her hand.
Kate had thought she'd known what fear was. Less than a day ago, she had faced drowning. But that was nothing compared to the terror she knew now. Sam was hurt. He wasn't moving. And he was at the mercy of a murderer with a speargun.
She pushed the starter again. "Come on, come on," she said. "Start, you piece of sh—"
This time the engine caught. It coughed and sputtered twice before it settled into a steady chug. Kate opened the throttle, spun the wheel and pointed the bow straight at the other boat.
The wind gusted, sending ripples of spray into the hull. Chambers tossed her hair from her eyes and fumbled to fit the second spear into the gun.
Kate rocked on her feet, urging the sloop forward, but the auxiliary engine wasn't meant for speed. The twenty yards that had separated the boats stretched like twenty miles.
"Please," she murmured, her throat tight, her body shaking. "Please, don't let me be too late."
It's too late. He's gone.
She fisted her hands on the wheel and rocked faster, refusing to give in to the nightmare. No. She wasn't going to lose him.
Chambers finally managed to load the speargun. She walked to the top of the steps and pointed the weapon at Sam's motionless body.
Two yards to go. "Sam!" Kate screamed. She cut the engine and ran to the bow as two yards became two feet. "Sam, watch out!"
Chambers squeezed the trigger at the same moment the sloop rammed the fishing boat. The low-speed impact didn't cause more damage than a splintered gunwale, but it was enough to throw Chambers sideways, sending the spear whistling into the sea.
Before the sloop could recoil and drift backward, Kate climbed onto the railing and jumped to the deck of the Penelope. She scrambled to Sam's side, her heart freezing at the sight of the blood that pooled beneath him. No. Oh, God, no.
Chambers grabbed another spear from a compartment on the bridge and climbed to the deck. "You made me miss, you bitch," she said, pointing the speargun at Kate. "It's your fault that—"
Kate whirled and kicked the speargun out of Chambers's hand, sending it spinning end over end past the gunwale.
"Ow! Don't—"
Kate wasn't listening. Fear was giving her strength she hadn't known she had. Her next kick caught Chambers square on the jaw.
The woman screamed as she flew backward and hit the cabin wall. She slumped to the deck, landing on top of the inert form of her bearded accomplice.
Kate lifted her pistol and aimed at Chambers. "Put your hands on your head and don't move."
Chambers slid off her companion and got to her knees, cradling her jaw in her hands. She whimpered. "You hit me in the face. My face. My God. How could you?"
Kate moved the gun to the side and fired a warning shot into the cabin wall. "I said don't move!"
From between black strands of hair that had fallen over her eyes, Chambers glared at her. Slowly she lifted her hands to her head and laced her fingers together.
Kate observed that the man didn't move. He hadn't even grunted when Chambers had fallen on him. Nevertheless, Kate kept the gun pointed in their direction as she dropped to her knees beside Sam. Battling to stay focused, she extended her arm and laid her fingertips against the side of Sam's neck.
There was a pulse. She could breathe again. There was a pulse.
Blood seeped through the fabric of her pants where she knelt. She swallowed hard and took her gaze off Chambers long enough to glance at the shaft that protruded from Sam's chest. It had gone in under his ribs. She couldn't tell if it had hit any vital organs. She wouldn't be able to help him if it had. Pulling the spearhead out could double the damage it had done on the way in. All she could do was to make a compress to slow down the bleeding and get him to a hospital as quickly as possible.
Using her free hand and her teeth, she grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and ripped off a foot-wide swath, then rolled the fabric into a cylindrical bandage to fit around the spear...
Oh, God. This was Sam, not some first aid training exercise. The man she loved. And his blood was flowing over her hand. What if she couldn't save him? How could she live with herself if she failed him, too?
No. She couldn't think like that. She ripped another strip from the bottom of her shirt and fixed the compress in place. "Sam Coburn, don't you dare die on me now," she whispered. "I love you, do you hear me? I love you."
His skin was clammy. He still didn't move.
Kate got to her feet. She spotted a storage box that was fixed to the deck near the cabin. She needed rope or duct tape, something to immobilize the two prisoners so she could leave them long enough to use the radio. "Don't move," she said, keeping the gun trained on Chambers as she hurried toward the box.
"This is all just a misunderstanding," Chambers began.
"Tell it to the king. He calls it something else. You killed his nephew."
"That wasn't my fault."
"And your sister." Kate undid the hasp and threw back the lid of the box. "You killed your own sister so you could use her child."
"Jessica? I never killed Jessica."
"We know she didn't die in an accident or childbirth."
"Well, I didn't kill her. Who told you that?"
Kate glanced through the contents of the box. Flares, life jackets and several coils of rope. She grabbed the rope and moved toward Chambers. "It doesn't matter."
"It was Gretchen, wasn't it?" Chambers persisted. "That idiot. She's trying to blame it on me when she's the one who did Jessica."
No. She couldn't think like that. She ripped another strip from the bottom of her shirt and fixed the compress in place. "Sam Coburn, don't you dare die on me now," she whispered. "I love you, do you hear me? I love you."
&nbs
p; His skin was clammy. He still didn't move.
Kate got to her feet. She spotted a storage box that was fixed to the deck near the cabin. She needed rope or duct tape, something to immobilize the two prisoners so she could leave them long enough to use the radio. "Don't move," she said, keeping the gun trained on Chambers as she hurried toward the box.
"This is all just a misunderstanding," Chambers began.
"Tell it to the king. He calls it something else. You killed his nephew."
"That wasn't my fault."
"And your sister." Kate undid the hasp and threw back the lid of the box. "You killed your own sister so you could use her child."
"Jessica? I never killed Jessica."
"We know she didn't die in an accident or childbirth."
"Well, I didn't kill her. Who told you that?"
Kate glanced through the contents of the box. Flares, life jackets and several coils of rope. She grabbed the rope and moved toward Chambers. "It doesn't matter."
"It was Gretchen, wasn't it?" Chambers persisted. "That idiot. She's trying to blame it on me when she's the one who did Jessica."
Did Jessica? Kate wanted to shudder at the callousness of the woman. "Tell it to the king. And to Prince Lucas. Hold out your hands."
"Of course. Whatever you say." She shifted her gaze and took her hands from her head. "Edwardo, now!"
Kate forgot for an instant that Chambers was an actress—the shout had been so convincing. Assuming the bearded man must have regained consciousness, she firmed her grip on her pistol and stepped back, prepared to defend herself.
But the man was still out cold. Chambers used Kate's momentary distraction to lunge across the deck to Sam. Quick as a striking snake, she wrapped her fingers around the shaft of the spear that still stuck out of his chest.
"No, don't!" Kate cried. "Don't touch that!"
"I won't hurt him if you put down your gun and slide it toward me."
Kate knew that the moment Chambers got her hands on the gun, she would use it on all of them. Yet if Kate delayed, with one twist of her hand Chambers could rupture something vital in Sam's chest, and he would bleed to death before her eyes.