Storm Conquered
Page 8
A blonde eyebrow curls. “What if I say no?”
“We’ll stop.”
She hitches a shoulder. My chivalry means less than nothing to her. “We’re naked, we might as well.”
Not a ringing endorsement by any means, and something I can’t accept. I start to get up. “Fine. We’ll stop.”
“No. Wait.” She pulls me right back, threads a hand through my hair. “I want this. I do.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m sure. Even if you walk away again, I want this. I want you.”
“I won’t walk away.” Not ever again. She’s mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.
The sheer insanity of being out in the open where anybody could get the drop on us doesn’t stop our coupling from being hot and heavy. But we’ll have to do it without the usual preliminaries. As much as I want to taste her pussy, there’s no time. Grabbing her firm ass, I thrust into her. Her body trembles as, fast and furious, I pound into her. My sweat pours from me, mingles with hers. I suckle her lips, ravish her mouth, eager for the sweet taste of her. When her legs start to shake, I know her climax is imminent. So I redouble my efforts. Her crisis hits. She bows off the earth and comes screaming my name. Seconds later, I follow her lead and reach paradise.
Once sanity returns, we swim back to the other side where, lost in our thoughts, we quietly dress. Rather than secure the blades around her, she attaches them to her weapons belt.
She starts to jump into her jeep, but I’m not letting her out of my sight. Not anymore. I grab the belt and toss it in the back of the 4 x 4. “Climb into mine. I’ll have one of your guards retrieve your vehicle later.”
Without even one word of protest, she does.
I cup her cheeks, brush my thumb across her mouth, the mouth I tasted a few minutes ago and burn to devour once more. “There’s no lover. Why did you ditch your guards?”
“I wanted to be alone.”
“It’s dangerous out here by yourself. Have you forgotten what happened three weeks ago? Those men who attacked you. They won’t give up.”
“I can take care of myself. Anybody or anything comes near me, I’ll gut them like a fish.” Both of us glance at the weapons belt where her blades rest, safe and secure. “Well, I would if you hadn’t stripped my knives from me.”
“You might be able to hurt one man, but you’re no match against several of them. That night, if I hadn’t walked in when I did, they would have raped you, killed you.”
She shakes her head and stares down at her hands. “They won’t kill me.”
“How do you know that, Brianna?”
“They need me alive.”
My gaze narrows. “What are you talking about?”
“If they kill me, Gabe would replace me, probably with Kurt. And the project would move forward. So that wouldn’t give them what they want.”
“And what do they want?”
“They want the project terminated. My death wouldn’t give them their objective.”
How does she know this? How the fuck does she know all this? “Nobody out here, Brianna. Nobody but you and me. Tell me, what’s going on.”
“Breaker 1-9. Jake Cooper. Did you find her?”
Damn. The walkie-talkie again.
“10-4.Yes, I did. Going back now.”
When I glance back up, her gaze has turned wary. Whatever measure of trust I gained, it’s gone. She won’t tell me what’s going on. Not anymore.
Chapter 13
______________
Brianna
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, I wake to Jake banging open the weapons locker, an urgent look on his face.
“What’s going on?” I ask, sitting up and pushing back a lock of hair.
“There’s been a development.” He tosses over his shoulder at me.
“What?”
“Somebody broke into the warehouse last night.” He jams a magazine into his Glock-21 before securing the pistol into a thigh holster.
Not unexpected, given we’d received a shipment a few days ago. But, of course, I can’t tell him that. “I’ll go with you.” I slide my feet off the bed.
“No. I don’t want you involved in this.” He secures a smaller weapon into an ankle rig and jerks down the hem of his cargo pants to conceal it.
“Why not? This is my project. I’m in charge.”
He tangles a hand through his dark hair, a shaggier version of his usual military cut. “Do I have to spell things out for you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You no longer carry any authority with your staff. Not after your performances at the boteco. They think your strange behavior is jeopardizing the project, putting their livelihoods in peril.”
It’s true. Some workers barely glance at me as I walk by them; others shoot me dirty looks. I have no one to blame but myself. Still it hurts to be told the unvarnished truth. “On the other hand, they’ve always respected you. And now, even more so. You’ve been sent here by my brother to fix things, to fix me.”
“I’m only doing my job.”
That’s what I am. His job. He’d stopped my floor shows at the cantina. Not only that, the break-ins had ceased. At least until now. While the staff barely gave me the time of day, they were practically ready to canonize him. “They see you as the one in charge now.”
He answers with a small nod, his gaze pinned to the floor. “Something like that.”
A sick feeling grows in my stomach. “I hate this. I really do.”
His head comes up. There’s a troubled look in his eyes. And I know what put it there. I did. He can’t figure me out. One second I act like I don’t give a damn, the next like I’m hurt.
He grabs a military issue camouflage cap and jams it over his head, grabs his shades before he turns back to me. “Go to your office. As soon as I have news, I’ll report to you.”
I gaze off into the distance away from him. Don’t want him to see the hurt in my eyes. “Very well.”
“Gotta go. Terrence’s waiting.”
I let him go without bothering to hurl a last-minute insult at him.
Half an hour later after a much-needed shower, I arrive at my office to find Kurt and Izabel going at it.
“I told you not to touch the papers on my desk,” Kurt screams at her.
“I’m sorry. I was just straightening them out.” She’s in tears. No matter what she’s done, he can’t browbeat her like this.
But first I have to get to the truth. “What happened, Izabel?”
“She was going through my things, that’s what happened.”
I fold my hands across my chest. “Give her a chance to explain, Kurt.”
Izabel looks at me as if I’m her last hope of salvation. “I wasn’t, Ms. Storm. The papers. They fell when I walked by. I picked them up, put them back on his desk. That’s when he walked in and started yelling at me.”
“That sounds logical enough, Kurt. Don’t you think?”
“My papers. They’re all messed up.”
“So take the time and organize them. Izabel will be more careful next time. Won’t you?” I smile and nod in Kurt’s direction, hoping she’ll take the hint.
“Yes, I will. I’m sorry.”
He lets out a deep breath. “It’s fine. I guess I overreacted. It’s just ...” He glares at me. “Have you heard? The warehouse was broken into again.”
No wonder he’s all out of sorts. I nod. “Yes. I know. Jake’s there.”
“Why aren’t you?” His tone’s accusatory, damning. Can’t blame him. I should be there checking things out.
“I’ve been warned off. Apparently, my presence would do more harm than good.”
“Ahh, liebchen.” What’s left of his tension dissipates as he wraps an arm around me and hugs me to his side.
“Would you like some tea?” Izabel asks, her brown eyes filled with sympathy. I’m glad this new development has given her something to focus other than her altercation with Kurt. And her show of support is a welcome
relief from the dark thoughts churning through my head.
“Not tea. But coffee would be nice. Thank you, Izabel.” I could use a good, stiff drink, but it’s way too early for that.
Her mouth splits in a smile. “We just got some fresh Colombian. I’ll brew a pot.” And she dashes toward our kitchenette area. It’ll give her something to do other than worry. Her anxiety’s understandable. If things keep going the way they have, she won’t have a job much longer. And there goes her college money.
After she brings fresh-brewed cups for Kurt and me, he and I sit down in my office to discuss the foundation for the wind turbine. Because of the depth of the ocean where the engines will be erected, we constructed a floating structure base. We’re not in charge of the actual assembly. A company that specializes in that operation is handling it. But we keep tabs and work together with the company’s engineers to ensure a smooth process. “So how’s the installation going?”
“It’s almost ready,” Kurt says. His eyes light up like a kid’s on Christmas morning. Hopefully, his altercation with Izabel has been forgotten. When two people are at odds with each other in a small space like ours, it makes for a really awkward working environment. “In a little more than a week, we’ll be able to install our first wind turbine.”
With the patents we obtained in the SouthWind deal, we’d built a state-of-the-art engine, the first of its kind. A lot will ride on it being operational. Computer modeling says yes, it will be. But until the turbine is installed, we won’t know for sure. If we can’t make it work, the project will be shut down and we’d probably lose the contract with the Brazilian government. So to say a lot rides on the installation is a major understatement.
The parts had been shipped from the United States, and the wind turbine from England. So two different ships set sail, scheduled to arrive within a day of each other. While the wind turbine ship’s still en route, the parts shipment arrived three days ago. Even though Kurt encouraged me to check things out, I hadn’t made time to inspect the equipment, deferring to do so until today. And they’d struck last night. If they destroyed enough equipment or made off with anything vital to the installation of the first wind turbine, we won’t be able to install the machine. It’s as simple as that. “Is the turbine’s arrival on schedule?”
“Yes. The ship is only a day away. They’ll wait out to sea until we give them the green light.”
The big question mark is whether the equipment thefts and destruction are enough to shut down the project. The part of me that worked so hard to make this enterprise a success hopes it hasn’t. But then I recall how much is at stake. Unless I do exactly as the boy’s kidnappers wish, my nephew will die. There’s no question really. The project must fail.
The staff thinks that grief over my father’s death changed me to the point I no longer give a damn about the project. They think Gabe should replace me, hand the project management to someone else. And he had. He sent Jake to fix what’s wrong. To fix me. And in the process he became the de facto project manager.
Since his arrival, the men and women on staff have taken heart that he’ll work a miracle. Little do they know the die has been cast. There’s no stopping this project from imploding. Only when it does and the Brazilian government cancels our contract will the kidnappers let the boy go.
The coffee churns in my stomach. It’s after eleven o’clock and Jake hasn’t reported in. Damn him. I have to know what’s happening, if in fact enough equipment has been stolen or destroyed to make the installation impossible.
I drop the half full cup of coffee on my desk and some of it sloshes out. “I’m going to the warehouse to check things out.”
“About time,” Kurt says.
Outside the trailer, I run into Hamish, this morning’s guard. “Where are you going?”
“To the warehouse.”
He shakes his head. “Jake said for you to stay put. He’ll come and report to you.”
“I don’t give a damn what Jake said.” I climb into my jeep and turn to him. “Are you coming?”
Spitting out a curse, he jumps into the Jeep’s passenger seat. I put the 4 x 4 in gear and head up the coastline. On the way, I try hard not to break down and cry. Everything I’ve worked for, shot to hell.
While I’m busy fighting back tears, Hamish reports in on the walkie talkie. No need to wonder who he’s talking to as I can hear every word. When I arrive at the warehouse, Jake’s outside the building waiting for me, hands on hips, with a thunderous look on his face.
“I told you I’d come to you.”
“It’s been three hours, Jake. I have to know. What happened?”
His gaze cuts to Hamish. God. It’s worse than I thought. My guard steps back to give Jake the privacy to give me the bad news.
“They did a pretty thorough job of destroying things. I’m sorry.”
“Can I check it out? Maybe some of it can be salvaged.”
“I don’t think so. No.”
“I have to know for sure, Jake. Please.”
His mouth slashes into a white line. He glances away before his gaze finds me again. “Fine. Have it your way.”
He leads the way into the warehouse. At first glance I see what he means. The guts have been ripped out of the equipment and they took a hammer and saw to some of it, slashing right through the equipment, destroying it.
Only one thing. The parts are not what I ordered. It’s pure junk.
I whirl toward him. “I don’t understand. What’s going on?”
He nods toward the newly-installed cameras, the ones that replaced the broken ones. “Don’t say another word.”
“But.”
“Not. A. Word.” He grabs me by the elbow, and hauls me outside. When we’re deep into the bush and no one’s within hearing distance, he fishes a device of some kind from his cargo shorts and turns it on.
“Do you have your phone?”
“Yes.”
“Give it to me.”
I hand over my mobile. He drops it to the ground and crushes it with his heel.
My breath hitches. “What the bloody hell are you doing?”
“I don’t want anyone to hear us. Don’t worry. I’ll get you a new one, bug free.”
I catch a breath at the thought anyone could have listened in on my conversations. “That thing had a listening device in it?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“I put it there.”
So many things become clear now. “That’s how you knew I don’t have a lover.”
“Yes.”
He would have been aware of my most intimate thoughts. If I jotted down any. Which I hadn’t. I’m not stupid enough to trust my private life to a phone. But he’d determined what I’m not up to. No texts or phone conversations with a man. Ergo, no lover. “You son of a bitch. What are you up to? Where’s the damn equipment—?”
He clamps down on my mouth, shakes his head.
“With Gabriel’s blessing, I diverted the ship to another port, one nearby. And there it will stay until it’s time to install the wind turbines. They will sail it directly to the spot where you wish to install it into the ocean.”
I don’t even know where to start with the questions. “But who, what where?”
For the next few minutes he summarizes his scheme. He’d diverted the shipment to a different port. One where it would be kept under guard by men he trusted, ex-Navy Seal buddies of his who lived in this part of the world. When the time was right, he would ship the necessary equipment directly to the spot where the wind turbine was to be installed. And he’d done all of it with Gabe’s blessing.
“What port?”
“I’m not saying.”
“Why not?”
“The less people who know about it the better.”
“But I’m the project manager.”
‘In name only, the look he sends me seems to say.
“How many people know about this?”
“Only me.”
“We switched crews. Except for the captain and the engineer. The new crew has no ties to anyone in England nor does it have any idea what they offloaded in port.”
“Some of that equipment is highly sensitive and needs climate control.” Why am I worried about the equipment when everything’s going to bloody hell? If he succeeds, that child, that beautiful child will be ... I can’t bear the thought of what will happen to him. I wrap my arms around my middle as I catch my breath.
“We arranged for that.” His eagle-eyed scrutiny finds me. “I thought you no longer cared about the project.”
“I don’t.” I stomp away and race back to the bungalow with Hamish my only company. Gasping for breath, I head toward my bedroom, my sanctuary. Except it no longer seems so. Not anymore. They were supposed to break in and destroy the equipment which would have meant we couldn’t install the wind turbine. But now? Everything will go along as planned. Which means they will kill the boy after they torture him.
I’m so busy obsessing over the events of the last hour, I fail to notice the envelope with the familiar handwriting lying on my bed. How did they get it in here? Only Jake and I have the key. Regardless, I tear open the envelope.
You have one week. If you don’t succeed, expect this.
There’s a picture inside of a little boy playing with a wood truck. The man standing next to him, an open window behind him, holds a rusty knife in his hand. The next photo has another man holding down the little boy’s hand while the first one wields the knife right over the child’s index finger. The child’s clearly terrified. The threat’s very clear. If I don’t give them what they want, they’ll butcher him with that rusty blade.
The walls close around me as I gasp for air. I can’t stay here anymore. I need to go to a place where I can think. Somewhere away from Jake’s prying eyes. Natal. After I pack a small bag, I head for the big city with only Hamish in tow. Good. If need be, I’ll lose him just like I did before.
Chapter 14
______________
Brianna
“WHERE THE HELL IS HE?” Jake, breathing dragon fire, at the entrance to my hotel room.
“Who?”