Chill

by Stephanie Rowe

  He needed her. Now. He needed to sink deep inside her, to make her his, to declare he was taking responsibility for her. “Isa.” He whispered her name as he kissed his way back down her body. To her belly. To the smooth lines of her skin. He stopped as he encountered bare skin where thick curls should be.

  Blood surged to his cock as he kissed his way over the velvet skin. Waxing? Shit, he had no idea, but it was incredible. The feel of her bare skin against his lips. He kissed lower, found a small tuft of hair at the peak of her femininity, and then he kissed lower. Her skin was damp and warm. An incredible taste. Sweet and musky. A combination of softness and strength, just like Isabella.

  “Luke.” His name was a whisper on her lips.

  “Isa.” He moved his way back up her body and moved his hips between her legs. Positioned himself at the core of her entrance as the blanket slipped off his shoulders. He bent his head and kissed her as he began to nudge. “I need to be inside you.”

  She opened her eyes and met his gaze. “I need you, too. Just for now. Just for today.”

  Yes. Intense burning filled him and he tensed himself to plunge inside.

  “Hey!” The curtain flipped up and Inite poked her head into the small area. “The plane’s coming back! It looks like they’re going to drop someone on the boat!”

  Luke swore and rolled off Isabella as Inite dropped the curtain. “Shit. I thought we had more time.” He grabbed jeans and a shirt off the shelf and tossed them at Isabella.

  “The necklace. We can’t forget it.” She was already on her knees, yanking the black sweatshirt over her head.

  Luke shoved his hand into his pants pocket and tossed her the jewels. She tucked it into her jeans while Luke rifled through the dry clothes. By the time Luke had concluded that none of the men’s clothes were big enough, Isabella was already buttoning her fly. He jammed a dry T-shirt over his head, yanked on his wet jeans and then shoved his boots onto his feet.

  The plane’s engine was louder now, a deafening roar. Maybe twenty feet away? “Shit! Come on!”

  Isabella tugged on her boots. “Are we going over again?” Her voice was steely. Resolved. Determined. Not panicked.

  “Yeah. I don’t want Inite and her husband to get in trouble—”

  There was a sudden thump and the boat shook.

  “Shit.” Luke grabbed Isabella’s hand and yanked her to the side, away from the curtain. “Get back.”

  “What? I—”

  “Stay back,” a male voice ordered, and Luke gritted his teeth at the familiar voice. “Head toward shore up ahead and then get out.”

  Nate Sampson. He’d recognize Luke in an instant.

  Luke grabbed Isabella’s wrist and pulled her behind him. Her skin was damp, and he could feel her pulse hammering in her wrist. “Nate doesn’t know you’re here,” she whispered. “You can still hide from him.”

  There were no windows. No way out except through Nate.

  A hand grabbed the curtain and yanked it back. Light flooded the cabin, exposing Isabella’s terrified face.

  Luke took one look at her and didn’t hesitate. He ripped the curtain out of Nate’s hand, shoved Isabella into the shadows and then stepped out onto the deck of the boat, right into the gun of Nate Sampson.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Nate’s ruddy face went blank with shock as he met the gaze of the man who had once been his best friend. “Adam?”

  Luke lunged for the gun. Nate jerked in response and fired off a shot as Luke came at him. Luke swore as the bullet grazed his shoulder and he dove to the right to evade a second shot.

  Shit. Nate’s reactions had become much quicker since Luke had last known him. Eight years ago, the six-foot gap between them wouldn’t have given Nate enough time to pull his shit together, and Luke had been banking on that fact.

  Not anymore.

  Luke jumped up and spun around. Nate had both hands on the gun, which was aimed at Luke’s heart. Stalemate.

  For a moment, neither man said a word, and Luke felt his shoulder burning. Nate’s face was pale, and his blue eyes were still wide with surprise, but Luke could see the wheels turning in his mind as he quickly assessed the situation. As he realized the value of what he had at gunpoint. Nate’s mind was sharper than it had been eight years ago, and his grip on the gun steadier.

  Nate had been working on his skills.

  Luke had been trying to forget his.

  Nate looked the same. Shaved head trying to hide the effects of balding, narrow black eyes, a perpetual half growth on his face. His face harder now. More lined. No longer was there a quirk at the corner of his mouth ready to smile.

  He wasn’t wearing Marcus’s standard-issue expensive coat and tie. He wore jeans and boots, and a heavy jacket. Ready for hunting a girl through Alaska.

  Luke felt his upper lip curl as he stared into the face of the man who had once been his best friend. His only friend, really.

  A man who had shot a pregnant woman only three days ago.

  A path that would have been Luke’s if he’d stayed. But he felt no sympathy for the man who’d been sucked into Marcus’s hell. Just disgust. “Nate.”

  Nate still looked shocked. “What the fuck are you doing here, Fie?”

  Luke shrugged. Didn’t bother correcting Nate as to his real name. Yeah, he’d been tagged, but at the moment, Nate wasn’t connecting Luke Webber and Adam Fie, and the longer he kept it that way, the safer Cort and Kaylie would be. Though he had a bad suspicion that even though Nate had been blindsided by the appearance of Adam Fie, Leon and Marcus knew exactly whom they’d been hunting. It did show that Nate was on the bottom of the food chain, though. Leon or Marcus was running the show, for sure. “I’m just passing through,” Luke replied. “You?” He noted that the plane had gone up ahead and appeared to be banking for a landing just off to the right of the river.

  “Looking for a girl.” Nate’s eyes flicked toward the canopy. “Seems like you got her first. Isa. Come out here.”

  Luke tensed. “I’m alone.”

  “Yeah? Then you won’t give a shit if I shoot a couple holes in the cabin?” Nate raised the gun at the cabin.

  Inite squeaked in protest, and her husband pulled her against him, his hand over her mouth. She went still against him, but Luke knew Nate wouldn’t hesitate to use them for leverage if he thought it would work.

  “There’s no girl,” Luke said quietly. He began to edge toward the side of the boat, as if he were going to try to make a break for it. If Nate believed Luke was trying to get away, he’d also believe there was no Isabella. Nate knew Adam well enough to know he’d never leave an innocent like Isabella behind to take the heat.

  Nate raised the gun at Luke as he neared the edge. “You try it, and I’ll cap your ass. There’s no way I’m losing you.”

  “You’ll have to shoot me, then.” Luke moved closer to the side, took his gaze off Nate long enough to inspect the water, as if trying to assess the best route.

  But he kept his attention on Nate, waiting for the slightest hesitation. All he needed was one small opening. Luke nudged the anchor with the toe of his boot. Small. Maybe eight pounds. He hooked his boot under it and lifted it lightly as he pretended to look over toward the shore.

  He knew he could flip that anchor into his hand and have it in the air moving toward Nate in a fraction of a second. All he needed was that opportunity. He’d underestimated Nate’s reaction time a moment ago.

  Not again.

  Luke could see Nate considering the options and debating who was worth more: Isabella or Adam.

  He knew he was.

  Except that Isabella still had the necklace. Fuck. He shouldn’t have given it back to her.

  All Luke needed was for Nate to decide to check out the cabin and then he’d have his opportunity. So he shrugged. “Check it out for yourself. See if I’m telling the truth.”

  Nate didn’t move, and Luke could see his friend trying to work over Luke’s words in his mind. He clearly knew
Luke had a plan, but he couldn’t decide the best angle to combat it.

  Luke grinned to himself. Maybe Nate hadn’t changed so much.

  Nate narrowed his eyes. Then, without taking his gaze off Luke, he whipped his gun toward the cabin and began to shoot.

  The first bullet tore through the wood inches from Isabella’s cheek. The wood exploded and splinters flew into her face.

  Isabella dropped to the floor and covered her head as another bullet hit where she’d been standing. And another. And another. Rapid fire.

  Light began to pepper the small cabin.

  The next shot was lower, barely skimming her head.

  Shit!

  There was a sudden shout of fury. Light flooded the cabin as Luke burst through the opening and dove on top of her. He pulled her beneath him and his arms went around her head, cradling her with his body. His legs were on either side of hers, and his body was a human shield.

  The gunshots stopped immediately.

  “You okay?” Luke’s voice was harsh. Strained. “You hit?”

  Tears filled her eyes at the sensation of his body around hers. At the realization he’d charged into a battlefield just to protect her. “I’m fine,” she managed.

  Luke let out his breath and he dropped his head to hers.

  For a moment, neither of them moved. She didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to dislodge him. He was so heavy, and it made her feel safe and protected. Cherished. Like she wasn’t alone in her battle anymore.

  “You bringing her out or should I start shooting again?” Nate’s smug voice drifted through the curtain.

  Luke swore, and he rolled off her. He pulled her to her feet, and blood seeped from his shoulder. “You’re hurt—”

  He intercepted her hand on its way to his injury. “Listen to me.”

  She caught the urgency in his voice. “What?”

  “He’s going to try to get us into the plane. Stay back and out of the way, and run if you get the chance. I need to co-opt that flight. We can’t get on it. Do you understand?”

  God, it felt good not to be trying to fight on her own. “What can I do?”

  He gave her a grim look. “Not sure yet. Just stay alert and we’ll figure it out on the fly.” He narrowed her eyes. “You okay with that?”

  “Absolutely.” Her whole life had been an on-the-fly survival trek. She’d never had enough stability to plan ahead.

  “Then let’s go.” He squeezed her hand. “I need to pretend I don’t care about you, so don’t take offense.”

  Pretend he didn’t care? Did that mean he did?

  “Three seconds,” Nate warned.

  Isabella tensed, remembering Roseann’s body.

  “Isa?”

  She quickly nodded. “Okay. I won’t take offense if you start saying nasty stuff about me.”

  He grinned. “That’s my girl.” He kissed her forehead, then turned and walked out. “Stay behind me,” he said.

  She followed Luke out into the sunlight.

  Nate was waiting for them, and the sight of that gun trained on them made her stomach turn. Her legs began to tremble.

  Nate smiled. “Isa. Nice to see you.”

  Luke moved so he was between them.

  Nate had his phone to his ear. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s me. Guess what I found.”

  Luke swore and she felt him tense to go after Nate. She caught his arm as Nate closed his finger on his trigger and aimed at her heart. Not at Luke’s heart. At hers. Because she was a bigger threat than Luke?

  That made no sense.

  But even as she stood there, she sensed Luke stand down. Still ready, but no longer about to attack. That threat had been enough.

  She looked up at him as Nate spoke into the phone.

  “Adam Fie.” Nate sounded so smug. “In the flesh.”

  Luke flinched as if he’d been struck, and then a dark anger settled on him. His shoulders were rigid, and the tendons in his forearms bulged from his skin. Eyes narrowed, jaw clenched, raw anger etched on his face.

  Nate smiled at them. “Yeah, I’ll bring him in. Got the girl, too.” He paused and then grinned at Isabella. “I’ll have no trouble convincing her to tell me where the necklace is.” His smile faded. “Fine. I’ll let you do it.”

  He clicked the phone off, and grinned at Luke. “Welcome back, Fie. There’s quite the party forming in your honor. You’ve been missed. You’ll be an asset to have back on the team.”

  “I’m retired,” Luke bit out.

  “On sabbatical.”

  Isabella couldn’t believe Nate’s arrogant tone. He’d always had an edge she hadn’t liked, but he was even worse now. Like he was finally the man. The power. Staring into the visage of the man she’d known for six years, whom she’d trusted, Isabella couldn’t hold it in. “She was pregnant! How could you do that?”

  Nate barely spared her a glance. “What are you talking about?”

  “Roseann! My friend who you shot! She was pregnant!”

  Nate shrugged. “She should have answered my questions then.”

  Luke set his hand on Isabella’s arm. “Easy, hon,” he said quietly.

  He sounded so gentle, but when she looked up at him, he was studying Nate intensely. Watching his reaction. Learning? “You bastard,” Luke said quietly. It wasn’t a comment.

  It was a threat.

  Nate scowled at him. “Hey, fuckup, you took off. It’s your fault we’re in this mess, and you’re just the guy we need to fix it.”

  Luke narrowed his eyes. “What mess?”

  One bead of sweat trickled down Nate’s brow. “That whole night got totally out of control. Marcus’s plan went to hell—”

  “Marcus’s plan?” Isabella interrupted. “You guys kidnapped him!”

  It was Nate’s turn to flinch. “Hell, no! That was how it was supposed to look. He’s fine. He’s had us searching for you to make sure you’re okay.”

  Hope welled up in Isabella’s heart. “He’s okay?”

  Luke took her arm. “Don’t trust him,” he said quietly. “He shot Roseann. That’s all I need to know.”

  A capillary twitched beneath Nate’s right eye, and she heard Luke’s sharp intake of breath, as if that little twitch spoke volumes.

  What had Luke just learned?

  That twitch had spoken volumes to Luke.

  Nate was telling the truth: there was a hell of a mess going on and Nate was nervous as shit about it.

  Chaos created opportunity, and Luke was the king of taking advantage of opportunity. “You didn’t mean to shoot Roseann, did you?”

  Nate shot Luke a look. “No.”

  Luke nodded, pretending to give his friend sympathy. “Sucks.”

  Suspicion flickered across Nate’s face as the boat bumped up against the shore. “Not so bad.”

  Shit. He’d pushed it too hard. Difficult to think clearly with that fucking gun aimed at Isabella’s heart. He was afraid to push it until he had her out of range. Too many damn memories. He was getting it right this time. No screwups.

  But he also needed to know what he was up against. “Who were you talking to?” Who knew Adam Fie had been found? Jesus.

  He’d been found.

  Instinct told him to kick ass and bolt. To disappear again. But his tight grip on Isabella’s arm was like a cement block wrapped around his ankle. She had to be safe first. Had to be. Couldn’t leave her behind. Had to get her safe first.

  But it wasn’t so easy anymore. Because Adam Fie was a wanted man, and his presence would bring all hell down on anyone associated with him.

  Especially now that the necklace had been found.

  With that new tidbit, Adam Fie and the information in his head were worth over five hundred million dollars.

  Bloody hell.

  Inite and her husband scrambled out of the boat onto the shore. Roger grabbed a long rope and backed away, still holding onto his boat. “We’re here.”

  Nate waved his gun. “Out. Both of you.”

&n
bsp; Luke caught Isabella’s arm and helped her over the edge of the craft to shore, keeping his body between her and the gun. His mind was still whirling as he strategized ways to get the gun back and get the plane. Chances were good he knew the pilot. A little help from a fellow Alaskan? Yeah, maybe.

  But he couldn’t afford to get anyone shot.

  “If Marcus is part of this, let me talk to him,” Isabella said to Nate, interrupting Luke’s thoughts.

  Luke took her arm. “He’s playing you,” he muttered.

  She shot a frantic look at him, and he saw the desperation in her eyes. The need to know Marcus was okay. The need to be reassured. “Don’t trust Nate,” he said quietly. “He shot Roseann,” he reminded her again. He’d seen the pain in her face. He knew that would register.

  Her face paled. “Marcus would never have ordered that.”

  Maybe. At this point, Luke wasn’t placing bets.

  If Marcus had had any idea Adam Fie was findable, he’d have done anything to get him back.

  Isabella had found Luke. She worked for Marcus.

  Something was off.

  He glanced over at Isabella as he guided her through the trees toward the roar of the plane up ahead. Had she been a trap sent to snare him?

  She looked up at him, and he saw the worry in her eyes. The fear. Blood seeping through her shirt on her shoulder from the bullet that Doc had removed.

  And he knew.

  She may have been set up, but she hadn’t been a trap. Not intentionally.

  He trusted her.

  The thought shook him. He trusted rarely, and he was a fool to trust someone who was from his old world, who thought Marcus was a god.

  But he did. And once he trusted someone, she was in.

  Isabella’s eyebrows went up, as if she read something in his eyes. “Luke?”

  He shook his head. “Be ready,” he whispered.

  She nodded.

  Isabella was a survivor, and he liked that.

  There was a roar as the plane landed up ahead, and Luke peered through the trees to inspect the plane. In his efforts to keep his face averted from the plane, he hadn’t looked at it carefully. But now was the time to see if he knew who would be getting out of the pilot’s seat.