Heiress Under Fire

by Morey, Jennifer

  “Stop worrying,” Elam said.

  “Do you think we should go back to the yacht?”

  “If Imaad is going to make a move, it won’t matter where we are. Don’t worry.”

  “Easy for you to say.”

  He smiled and started to stand. “Are you ready to go?”

  “Sure.” She avoided looking at him as she stood with him and walked toward the sidewalk. Elam took her hand. Farren finally looked up at him and saw that he searched their surroundings, ever watchful for Imaad or one of his men. She let him keep her hand.

  Shops lined the street and faced the harbor, where boats were moored. The charm of this place had definitely wormed its way into her heart.

  When they reached the covered bazaar, Elam let go of her hand. The walkway stretched for as far as she could see and the wares of vendors filled small shops all the way. She caught sight of a rug shop and stopped to admire the Turkish styles and colors. Next was a dress shop. She fingered the silky material of a dark green dress.

  Elam leaned a shoulder against the dressing-room wall. He watched her the way he had over lunch. It was starting to wear on her defenses. An undercurrent of sexual energy hummed between them, growing stronger with all the time they were spending together. She rounded a rack of clothes, not moving her gaze from him.

  Trailing her hand along the hanging clothes, she smiled as she passed him and left the shop. He pushed off the wall and followed, catching up to her in the long, wide walkway of the covered bazaar.

  In the next shop, she bent over a table of handcrafted bracelets. Elam came up behind her. She straightened after she finished studying the pieces and felt his warm breath on her neck. The subtle foreplay set her blood on fire and chased a marvelous shiver across her skin. She turned her head to see him. The corners of his mouth lifted seductively.

  What was he doing? Turning up the heat between them on purpose? Or was he as helpless as her against this attraction?

  Slipping away from the table, she headed back out into the walkway. Another display of handcrafted jewelry drew her attention. She went into that shop and lifted a pendant in her hand. Elam reached around her and picked up a necklace with a piece of amber dangling from a dark chain. His arm brushed hers.

  “It matches your eyes,” he said.

  She smiled to disguise her leaping pulse.

  He clasped the necklace around her neck. His fingers moving her hair out of the way sent another bout of shivers through her. She turned her head. His was right next to hers. He bent to press a kiss to her bare shoulder. Taking in a startled, aroused breath, she leaned her head to the side. He moved his face against her hair and she heard him inhale. A sound escaped her when he slipped his arms around her. His hands spread over her stomach and ribs, pulling her back against him.

  He kissed his way up her neck to her jaw. It was a natural thing for her to tilt her head so his mouth could find hers. But before their lips touched, someone interrupted.

  “You like necklace, no?”

  Elam pulled back with the shop owner’s question, and Farren looked up into the fire of his eyes. She couldn’t look away.

  “We’ll take it,” he said without breaking their gaze.

  But at last, he had to, and went to pay the shop owner.

  Outside the shop, Farren couldn’t stop looking at him. Every nerve ending in her body tingled. She needed a distraction.

  At another dress shop, she veered inside. But the hanging dresses didn’t hold her interest. Elam walked on the other side of the rack, staying even with her, his gaze not leaving her. The kiss that they never got to have at the other shop lingered in her mind. She stopped trying to look at dresses and gave in to the fire shooting between them. At the end of the row, she faced him. He moved toward her, eyes burning hotter.

  Reaching for her, he grasped her hand and pulled her to him. She closed her eyes when he lowered his head and kissed her. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close. His tongue toyed with hers before sinking deep. She took him, yearning for more. She trembled with need for him to do more.

  Digging her fingers into his hair, she held him tight as he kissed her.

  Elam lifted his head and looked down at her, breathing as hard as her.

  “Let’s go back to the yacht,” he said.

  An image of them naked on her bed, writhing in the act of sex, shocked her.

  “Yes” was on the tip of her tongue. She wanted him on top of her, inside her. Moving deep. The strength of her desire shook her. She wanted him. She wanted him in a way that made her dizzy. Shivers of sensation consumed her as she imagined him touching her where she needed him.

  No. Stop. Where would this lead when it came time for her to go home? To a broken heart, that’s where. Elam wouldn’t come with her to Maine. He wouldn’t be able to leave his job and he wouldn’t risk his heart on her.

  She felt too much. Already. How would she feel after sleeping with him?

  Lost. Hopelessly in love. Was it already too late? Was she falling in love with him? She didn’t think she’d ever felt this strongly for anyone.

  No. She couldn’t let that happen. Love him? The idea frightened her. Pivoting, she hurried out of the shop. Things were careening too far out of her control.

  In the walkway, she dodged a couple and their young daughter and broke into a jog, not wanting Elam to catch up to her. She needed to escape the way she was beginning to feel about him. A man stepped into her path. She bumped into him and lost her balance over his feet. He held her and forced her into a shop.

  “Hey!” She struggled against his hold. “Let go of me!”

  But he dragged her through the shop to the back. She could barely make out the dim interior of the building. But soon she was whisked out a rear door and shoved into the back of a car.

  The man spoke rapidly in a language she didn’t understand. Struggling, she sat up and looked through the back window. Elam came running out the door just as the car squealed away. He ran after her.

  But he wasn’t going to catch her.

  Cursing himself as he ran down the street, Elam flipped open his phone and called Haley. The car carrying Farren away from him disappeared around a corner. His heart might as well have climbed up into his throat. He’d let his desire go too far.

  “Tell me she’s got the GPS device on her,” he said when Haley answered.

  “You lost her?”

  “Is she wearing it?”

  He listened to her call Travis and Keenan. “Yes,” she said to Elam. “She’s wearing it.”

  “I’m just leaving the bazaar. Where is she?”

  “Heading down Kemal Elgin Boulevard.”

  Elam searched for a vehicle. When a man parked along the street, he opened the car door and pulled the driver out. Yanking the keys from the man’s hand, he got into the car while the man yelled in Turkish. Elam raced down the street and turned off the boulevard at Haley’s instruction.

  “There. She’s no longer moving.” She told him the address. “Don’t go in until we get there. Five minutes.”

  “I’m not waiting.”

  “Five minutes, Elam.”

  He disconnected and raced the rest of the way to an old stone villa in a quiet suburb of Marmaris. He recognized the car parked along the side. The lush gardens in the front would have hidden someone forcing Farren inside. Or carrying her. Anger pushed at his control. That and self-disgust. He should have never let this happen.

  Farren stumbled as two men pushed her inside a room. She regained her balance and came back to the door as it closed. She tried the handle. It was locked. She slapped the door.

  “Let me go!”

  Listening to footsteps fade, she turned and faced the room. It was furnished in Turkish style, with colorful pillows adorning the bed and an expensively woven rug at the foot of it. She searched the room. There was nothing to use as a weapon. Not even a lamp. She started toward the window.

  The sound of the door unlocking stopped her.

 
; She spun and watched in horror as the door swung open and the man who’d abducted her entered. His face remained unreadable, but she thought she saw anger and repulsion in his dead-looking black eyes.

  “Remove your clothes and put these on.” He threw a bundle onto the bed beside her.

  She looked down at the bland pile then back at him. He closed the door, but stayed in the room with her. Did he intend to watch?

  She shook her head.

  He walked farther into the room. Fear electrified Farren’s body. She folded her arms in front of her, her fists above the neckline of her sundress. She backed up as he advanced. When she came against a bedside table, she bolted to her right and tried to get past him.

  He grabbed her hair and yanked. She lost her footing and landed on her backside. Standing, he straddled her, looking down at her cowering on the floor. She swallowed the begging words that would give away how terrified she was and crawled backward. Her back came against a leg of the table so she veered toward the bed. If she could just get across it, maybe she could make it to the door.

  She put her elbows on the mattress and inched her way onto the bed. The man leered at her. With one quick stride, he reached her, bending to grip the front of her sundress. He tore it to her waist. Farren screamed and rolled, crawling on hands and knees across the bed. He grasped her ankle. She kicked free and scrambled to her feet on the other side of the bed. He moved between her and the door.

  Whimpers pushed up her throat and made their way past her lips. She held the dress over her bare breasts, shaking violently. She’d had to put the GPS device in her shoe today. Oh, God, she hoped Elam could find her.

  The man started toward her. She searched wildly for another escape. The only window was on the other side of the bed. She would never get it open before he caught her. She backed up until the wall stopped her.

  The leering man kept coming toward her. His eyes horrified her. So dark and so full of evil hatred. He took hold of her wrists, trying to dislodge her grip on the dress. She brought her knee up and tried to kick him, but he twisted his hips in time to deflect her attempt, never loosening his hold on her wrists. With a yank, he pulled her away from the wall and sent her sailing onto the bed.

  Farren tried to crawl to the other side, struggling to keep herself covered at the same time. The man lifted her by the waist and flipped her onto her back. Farren tried to pull the torn material of her dress over her breasts, but he captured her wrists and shoved them roughly above her head. Holding them in one hand, he reached for the hem of her dress with the other, tugging it up her legs. She screamed long and loud, squirming and kicking to no avail. He was wiry but much stronger than her.

  Elam drove past the house and parked where he’d be out of sight. Then, watching the stone villa for anyone guarding the exterior, he approached. Checking his surroundings, he slipped his pistol from its holster inside his shirt. Using the gardens as cover, he made it to the side of the house and leaned against the stone wall. Peering around the corner, he held the pistol ready to fire and crouched low to pass unseen beneath one of the front windows. Stone stairs led up to the door. He climbed them and carefully checked the handle. It was unlocked.

  Turning the handle, he kicked it wide open and rushed inside, swinging his gun when he caught a movement to his right. Elam fired two silenced shots, putting two holes in the forehead of a tall, dark man whose gun slipped from his hand as he fell in a dead heap to the floor.

  A scream from the upper level froze his concentration for a few seconds. Farren. His heart plunged with dread.

  He had to save her. Now.

  Another man rushed him from behind. His distraction cost him. He turned too late. The man, this one shorter and a little heavier than the first, gave his wrist a painful chop. Elam held on to his pistol with one hand and slammed his other fist into the other man’s left eye socket. His head jerked backward, but he kicked and got Elam with a knee to his midsection.

  Grunting, Elam staggered back and saw the man scrambling toward the fallen man’s gun. Elam fired his pistol and got the man in the thigh. He wanted at least one of the men alive to question, and deliver a message.

  Two steps and he reached the fallen man’s gun. He kicked it out of the moaning man’s reach. Bending, he raised his gun, giving the man a good whack on the side of his head. The man went still. Elam would wake him up as soon as he had Farren.

  He heard her scream again.

  The horrible man had the hem of her dress to her waist now. His voice sounded gutteral as his fingers started pulling her underwear down.

  Something crashed outside the door, making him go still.

  Farren’s throat was raw from screaming and breathing so hard. She writhed her hips in an attempt to throw him off her. She twisted her hands and was begging—pleading for him to stop.

  The door banged open, breaking away from its hinges due to the angry force.

  The man leaped off her to face the one who entered. She scurried to the corner of the bed, shaking. She felt sick enough to throw up.

  A man started hitting her attacker. Elam. Elam had found her! He deflected two swings from her attacker and punched one of his own right in the man’s face. The man was no match for Elam, who didn’t stop hitting his face.

  She heard Elam swearing as he threw the man against the wall and strode after him. The man held up his hand as though in surrender. But Elam gave him no mercy. He kicked him in the ribs, then lifted him by his bloody shirt and started punching his face again.

  Just when Farren was about to turn away, he finally let the man slump to the floor. The man moaned and rolled onto his stomach, then pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. Blood dripped to the floor as he tried to crawl away.

  Breathing hard, Elam turned his head. She met the feral gleam in his eyes as he took in the sight of her cowering on the bed, holding the scraps of her dress over her nakedness. Dark fury blazed with increasing intensity in his eyes.

  The man on the floor staggered to his feet and lunged toward Elam. But Elam’s reflexes were too fast and he swung his gun in time to stop him with a bullet in his forehead.

  Farren covered her mouth with her shaking hand, feeling bile rise in her throat. She felt light-headed and cold.

  The bed beside her depressed as Elam sat down. The unmerciful rage in his eyes had calmed. He reached for her, touching her cheek. Gently.

  “Are you all right?”

  She nodded.

  He looked down at her ruined sundress. With a clenched jaw and firmly pressed lips, he pulled his shirt off and put it over her head. She let go of her dress to pull it over her, relieved to be covered.

  When she finished, he slid his arms under her and lifted. She looped one arm over his shoulder as he carried her from the room. The villa where the man had taken her was small, but two stories. Downstairs, the main room consisted of a living area and kitchen, both in need of upgrading. A man lay on the floor in the kitchen, his eyes blank. Two holes darkened his forehead and blood that had stopped flowing trailed to the tiled floor. In the open but sparsely furnished living room, another man lay. He stirred, groaning. Blood oozed from a gunshot wound in his thigh. The sight made her feel sick all over again. Too much violence. She’d almost been raped. It was all beginning to overwhelm her.

  Elam set her down on her feet. She swayed when his support left her and put her hand on her stomach, wondering if she was going to throw up. She swallowed a few times and tried to keep her breathing even.

  She watched Elam go to the groaning man. He knelt beside him as the man propped himself up on one elbow, blinking, trying to look up at Elam.

  “Did Imaad send you?” Elam asked.

  The man blinked more. He said something in his language.

  “Did Imaad send you?” Elam repeated.

  After a lengthy hesitation, the man nodded. He knew English; the attempt at feigning didn’t fool Elam.

  “What was he going to do with the weapons Jared Fenning was planning to sell
him?” Elam asked.

  The man stared up at Elam and said nothing.

  “What was he going to do?” Elam repeated.

  A long moment passed before the man finally shook his head. He couldn’t tell them.

  Elam didn’t force the man to talk. Was he holding back in deference to what Farren had just been through? She’d already seen too much. Endured too much. His chivalry was sweet, but she was still so shaken she couldn’t appreciate it fully.

  “You tell him he goes through me from now on,” he said instead.

  “Wire the money and he will leave her alone,” the man said.

  Elam put his pistol to the man’s temple. “If he wants anything, he goes through me. Make sure you tell him. Because if you don’t, I’ll come find you and kill you. Understand?”

  The man nodded.

  Elam swung his gun and slammed it against the man’s temple. Farren flinched. The man went limp, unconscious again. She slumped to the floor and sat there until Elam returned to her and picked her up with a muttered curse. He was still so angry.

  Outside, there was a car waiting. Haley was behind the wheel. Elam put Farren down and helped her into the backseat. When he sat next to her, he put his arm around her and she snuggled close. Before Haley drove away, Travis and Keenan appeared from each side of the building. Travis climbed in the front passenger seat and Keenan climbed in next to Farren and Elam.

  Haley jetted into the street and headed for the marina. Travis twisted around in the front seat, his massive shoulder pressed against the seat as he looked back at Farren. His eyes shifted and he took in Elam. Something silent passed between them.

  “She’s all right,” Elam said. “But if I’d have been two minutes later…” Farren heard the catch in his voice.

  “You weren’t,” Travis said. And he looked over at Haley, who was quiet and didn’t move her eyes away from the road.