by Diana Duncan
She grabbed the rope tied to the beam, gestured to tell him she’d return, and shot upward.
Dizzy from oxygen deprivation and relief, he closed his eyes. He’d received a reprieve from his date with death.
Treading water, Kate wound the rope over her shoulder and strove for calmness. Faced with failure, with losing Liam, she’d freaked. Splashed and shrieked for help that didn’t come. While she’d been panicking, Liam had been drowning. She’d let her emotions run rampant, and they’d obliterated her common sense.
Because she’d let her emotions off the leash and stopped thinking clearly, Liam had almost died. He still might die.
Who did she think she was, trying to be his savior? She’d always played it safe. Taking chances caused catastrophes.
She gritted her teeth. The key to survival was to lock her feelings in a deep freeze…where they couldn’t endanger anyone. The only way to save Liam was to entomb her emotions in a thick shield of ice. And never let them thaw out again.
Taking emotional chances ended in failure.
Kate stared at the dog standing guard on the rocks, and terror roiled inside her. She quashed it. No time to indulge in angst. She had to be hard and determined. Emotionless. Ruthless. To save Liam’s life, she must confront her worst fear.
For him to live, she must kill her newly born feelings.
She stared at the jagged scars on her arm. A constant, ugly reminder of acting from her heart instead of her head. She forced herself to go cold and dead inside. Blotted out the awful mental picture of Murphy’s recent attack. Made herself feel nothing as she swam to the outcropping, floated beneath the dog.
Her fingers shook as they fisted on the rope. She had one good hand. If it was destroyed… Her brain had to command her arm to move twice before it obeyed. Slowly, she lifted the quivering rope to the dog’s lethal jaws. “M-Murphy,” she croaked. “Tug!”
His head lowered, and she flinched away. Fighting the urge to flee, she tried again. Long, lethal fangs bit into the rope, and she snatched her hand back. “G-good dog! Tug!” He backed up, pulling hard, and she dove to where Liam waited below.
Moments ago, his luminous eyes had been haunted with pain. And the enraged knowledge of his own death. Her valiant pirate wasn’t about to meekly shuffle through the pearly gates. Death would have torn him fighting from her arms.
His eyes shone with hope and gratitude as she gave him another breath. She went up for air, encouraged Murphy to tug, and then jackknifed. Bracing her feet on the floor, she strained against the beam’s weight. The taut rope vibrated from Murphy’s strong pull. Liam lent his left arm to the effort. As they pushed and heaved, the timber slowly rose the inches needed to conquer death. Liam slid his arm free. Together, they surged upward. Into the warm night’s embrace. Into light. Into life.
Liam coughed violently, and she helped him flounder to the rocks. Murphy dropped the rope and snagged Liam’s shirt collar. Kate heaved herself out of the water. With the dog’s assistance, she dragged Liam onto dry land.
Panting, he flopped onto his back. She scrambled to his other side, opposite the dog, and sleeked thick strands of wet hair from his face. “I’ll get an ambulance.”
He grabbed her. “No.” He coughed some more. “I’m good.”
“Sure. Don’t let a little thing like hacking up a lung dissuade you from seeking medical treatment.”
He pushed to a sitting position, which brought on another bout of coughing. “How’d you get me out?”
“I had Murphy tug on the rope. Between the three of us, we had enough power to raise the beam.”
Respect and approval glittered in his gaze. “Brilliant.” He smiled. “You and Murph worked together?”
His hopeful smile battered the barrier around her heart. “It was necessary to save your life. Don’t read anything more into it.” What she’d known all along was confirmed beyond a doubt. She could never separate him from his partner. They were an incomparable team. Without Murphy, Liam would have drowned.
Yet after watching Murphy tear a man’s arm to shreds, she could never trust him. Granted, he’d been protecting Liam. That didn’t make her fear him any less. What if he mistakenly thought she was about to hurt Liam sometime? The risk was far too high.
Liam coughed again, and she rubbed his back. “Let me call your brothers. At least the one who is a paramedic.”
“In this case, you’re with the right O’Rourke, Miz Scarlett.” His breathing eased, and she relaxed a fraction. “Those boys don’t know nothin’ about disarmin’ no bombs.”
She gestured at his sliced shirt. The water hadn’t totally leeched away the bloodstain. “What about your knife wound?”
He peered at his side and snorted. “It’s not even bleeding anymore. Takes more than an itty bitty scratch to slow me down.”
She sighed. “Do you want me to go back in after your gun?”
He eyed the debris-littered pool. “I’d go after it, but it’s buried, and the clock is ticking.” He shoved to his feet. “We have one more bomb to disarm.”
“Damn stubborn pirate.”
“Arr.” He reached down a broad hand to help her up. His impudent gaze stroked leisurely over her, speeding her pulse, warming her skin. “Speaking of booty…”
Gad, talk about a quick rebound. “Don’t start.”
The horror of his close call suddenly shadowed his eyes. “Why the hell not? I could be dead tomorrow.”
Memory’s icy fingers scraped her spine, and she shivered. She could be sobbing over his dead body right now. His involvement with the stalker was her fault. His death would have been her fault. Her ultimate failure.
“I want you, Kate.” His voice was tortured. Without warning, he yanked her against him, wrapped his arms around her and plundered her mouth with a desperate kiss.
His warm, wet body slicked along hers. His blazing kiss chased away cold, relentless fear. Threatened to melt her icy wall and bring her emotions roaring back full force. She longed to stand on tiptoe, wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him back.
Because she needed him desperately, she pushed him away. Nothing good could come of this. Trembling with despair, she touched her sensitized lips. How was she going to tell him the heartbreaking truth? He wouldn’t want her once he understood the full extent of her handicap.
They also didn’t have time to discuss it. Torn between angst and relief, she inclined her head. “The clock is ticking.”
“Yeah.” His voice was graveled. He tugged the plastic bag from his pocket. Miraculously, it had stayed put.
She opened the note. The message was short and to the point. Is it Insanity to search for a needle in haystack?
He pointed. “Another capitalized word.”
“Insanity. The Stratosphere has a ride named Insanity. The point on the tower resembles a needle. Can it be that simple?”
“Simple.” He snorted as the note disintegrated. “I just have to disarm a bomb on an amusement ride that’s perched on top of a twelve-hundred-foot tower.”
She gulped. “We’d better go.” She strode toward the car. A strangled sound behind her brought her up short, and she turned.
Liam stood frozen, a poleaxed expression on his face.
“What’s the matter? Are you hurt?”
He blinked. Then he chuckled and gestured at her body. “Talk about a moving violation.”
Perplexed, she glanced down, and heat crawled up her neck. In all the angst, she’d forgotten she was only wearing a black lace bra and panties.
He unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a wide expanse of tanned chest dusted with dark hair. He shrugged out of the garment, making muscles ripple in interesting places. Her gaze snagged on the treasure trail of hair that started at his flat stomach and wandered beneath the waistband of his pants.
Holy crow! She bit her lip as he passed her the shirt. She fumbled it on and tamped down her rioting senses. Think with your head, not your hormones, woman. “We have to make a fast stop to buy shoes.
My sandals are at the bottom of the pool.”
“We’ll bring our street clothes into the shop and change in their dressing rooms.” He curled his big warm hand around the base of her neck, and delicious goose bumps prickled over her skin. “Let’s rock and roll.”
The man spying from his hidden hotel room twitched the heavy drapes back into place and threw down his rifle in disgust. He’d maneuvered them right where he wanted them. He’d been winning. Then Katherine had risked her life to save the cop. His lip curled. She’d even braved facing the dog.
She’d never belong to him…not now. He’d tried to make her love him. Instead, she ignored him. Just as his parents had.
And he despised her for it.
His parents had atoned for their sins…as would she.
He barked out a bitter laugh. Everyone thought they’d died of natural causes. He hadn’t been able to take credit for his clever work. Nor would he this time. But no matter. Because Katherine would know him before she paid. Intimately.
He would make her scream out his name. Over and over.
He opened his laptop and hacked into her dictated electronic journal. Nothing new today. As he’d devoured her nightly entries, he’d felt as though she were confiding in him. Telling him her deepest fears, her secret desires. He scowled. He’d burned with fury when he’d paged back and read how she had wasted her innocence on the policeman. How could she, when she was supposed to be loyal only to him? He’d overlooked the offense only because she’d run away from O’Rourke. She’d lived alone in quiet torment, as celibate as a nun. Given time, he’d been sure she’d turn to him. After she’d groveled, he would have accepted her apology. Taken care of her forever. But now, the cop was back in her life…and his. Katherine had revealed her true nature. The whore was all over O’Rourke like a bitch in heat. He’d almost shot them both when the cop had kissed her on Britannia’s deck. That would have been too easy. Too merciful.
If they survived his next test, they would pay for his long, patient years of waiting. His scorching humiliation.
He would hurt the cop. Slowly. Torturously. No glorious explosion for O’Rourke. He’d seen one of his compatriots peel the skin off a man inch by inch. He’d never forgotten the white-hot power rush at the pain. The orgasmic satisfaction in the inhuman screams. He’d learned his craft from the best. He’d make O’Rourke plead for mercy. Beg for death.
The time for mercy was long past.
He’d force the cop to watch while he plucked his tarnished flower. He hardened, thinking about the exquisite pleasure her terror and pain would bring him. He would finally elicit a response from her. He would torment them with the knowledge that their lives were ticking away, second by second. He was their judge. Their executioner. Their god.
Blood beat in his temples with the thrilling swell of invincibility. His Katherine, as cool and untouchable as the calla lilies he left for her, would burn to ashes in the scalding fire of his rage. He would purify her. Purge her from his head, from his life. He would finally be free of her.
Then he would find a woman who truly deserved him. Move on with his life.
A much richer, and wiser man.
At the Stratosphere, a sign informed Liam that the upper deck was closed for a private wedding. He needed a way to clear the deck without arousing suspicion. He needed Zoe.
Using Kate’s phone, he called Aidan. “I need to borrow your security pass and your wife, and she’s not answering her cell.”
“She’s conspiring with Grady on a top-secret project.” Aidan sighed. “She gets into enough jams without help, bro.”
After a taut round of twenty questions—and a few choice words—Aidan agreed to send her to the Stratosphere.
Liam cased the lobby while he waited. Hot air balloons were featured in the decor. Even the lamps were miniature hot air balloons. In less than fifteen minutes, Zoe arrived with a portable TV camera. A scowling Aidan dogged her heels. Liam didn’t blame big brother for guard dogging his woman. Because of Kate, he had a new perspective on the male protective gene.
Aidan pointed at his diminutive wife. “Ten minutes. Then I’m coming up and you’re leaving, whether you’re done or not.”
Zoe grinned. “He never learns.” She elbowed Aidan in the ribs. When he grunted and bent over, she kissed him. “Ease off the testosterone trigger, SWAT. I know what I’m doing.”
Liam turned to Kate. “Distract security at the front desk so Zoe can get upstairs.”
Kate headed for the desk, and Zoe patted Murphy on the head. “Hey Murphy. Keeping Deputy Dog outta trouble?”
The dog’s tail swished. I try my darnedest.
She waggled her fingers. “See you in ten, boys. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.” She strode toward the elevator boarding area, which was constructed like a huge hot air balloon.
Aidan muttered and rubbed his ribs. “That woman is…”
Liam slanted him a wry smile. “Exasperating? Exciting? You can’t stand to be away from her for a second, but at the same time, she scares the holy freaking crap out of you?”
Aidan’s glance ricocheted to Kate, then back. He quirked a brow and his face creased in a grin. “Welcome to the jungle, little brother.” He sobered. “Then you understand why I’m not thrilled by the idea of my wife in proximity with a bomb.”
Liam wasn’t thrilled with the entire scenario. But he and Kate had no choice. “I wouldn’t endanger her or you. If Whacko’s gonna detonate, he’ll wait until I’m on scene.” He scanned the perimeter. “What’s the word on the background checks?”
“Hanson checks out. Some complaints about excessive force and aggressive behavior, but he’s clean.”
“And the others?”
“Daniel Tyler had trouble as a juvvie. Graffiti, drinking, one count of marijuana possession. He straightened out after his parents died in a car accident when he was twelve. He went to live with foster parents, now deceased. Graduated from MIT. Intel indicates he’s anticipating assuming the reins when daddy-in-law retires. He appears devoted to his wife and child.”
“Keep him on the list. Appearances can be deceiving. What about contestant number two?”
“Until six months ago, Brice Edwards lived with his mother. Father unknown, listed as deceased. Edwards Graduated summa cum laude from the most conservative college on the East Coast, then served a four-year hitch in the National Guard. He collects antique war weapons, including salvaged antipersonnel mines.”
“Some of which can be triggered remotely. Freaky hobby.”
“Freaky guy. His work associates describe him as brainy, but socially awkward. Talented at portrait photography. He’s been saving to open his own studio, but his mom’s medical bills and recent death wiped him out.”
Aidan delivered the intel report without consulting notes. He’d always had a scary memory for detail. “Politically, he’s so far to the right, he’s in another continent. Quite the activist. Multiple counts of trespassing and disturbing the peace. He allegedly threatened the administrator of a women’s clinic during a protest, but no charges were filed. The clinic was bombed two weeks later. Investigators didn’t turn up anything.”
“So Mr. Open-minded might resent women because his mother’s illness killed his dreams, and also a woman photographer’s success. Especially if she’s shunned his overtures.”
Liam rubbed his chin. “And the third?” Kate’s admin assistant sparked his intuition. He wasn’t sure if it was because he suspected him of criminal conduct or because the model-perfect man’s close relationship with Kate made him twitchy. Etienne’s utter devotion to her reminded him of Murphy’s dedication to him—and that mental picture was just wrong in so many ways.
Aidan’s brows lowered. “According to Interpol, Etienne Duplais doesn’t exist. Not until six years ago. No family. No birth certificate. No school records or work history. He materialized out of nowhere in Paris, with a passport, driver’s license and spotty résumé as a sometime construction worker.”
Liam glanced at Kate, engaged in animated conversation with the desk personnel. Did she know when she’d hired Duplais “off the street” that he had no credentials? “Did his construction work involve demolition?” Aidan nodded, and Liam frowned. “He’d be familiar with explosives, and have access.” For Kate’s sake, he hoped Etienne wasn’t the perp. Having your closest friend turn Judas was shattering. He felt sick. Been there, done that. He’d hate to have to arrest him—and then break the bad news to Kate. And wouldn’t that do a messy little tap dance all over his chances with her? “All three suspects have means and opportunity. That leaves motive. Which one do I focus on?”
Aidan shook his head. “What does your gut say?”
Grab your woman and get her the hell out of the kill zone. Kate had him twisted up in so many knots, his instincts were snarled by his feelings. Not good. He had to compartmentalize. Contain his feelings until Kate was safe. “Nothing clear, yet.”
Murphy nosed his leg, obviously picking up on his tension. He stroked Murphy’s back in reassurance. “Edwards has some photos for Kate at his shop. I need you to pick them up, bro.”
The elevator pinged, and Zoe strode out, trailed by a Rio carnival wedding party. “The pen is mightier than the gun.” She winked at Liam on the way out of the casino and spoke to the knockout bride. “We’ll use the Strip for background shots. I’ll bet you can’t wait to see your wedding on the evening news.”
Aidan started to follow his wife, but Liam stopped him. “Wait. Your Homeland Security pass will help me convince the guards on the top deck to vacate for a ‘drill.’”
Aidan turned. “What happened to your pass?”
“Long story.”
His brother frowned. “I’ll ride along.”
“Nah. Other than eye color, we look alike. They’ll never notice. Now if it were Grady, with those dimples…” His smile was strained. This was the tough part. “Take Murphy with you.” Grady was the die-hard animal lover. Of his brothers, baby bro had the closest rapport with Murphy. But the canine would listen to Con or Aidan when ordered. “He can’t navigate the roller coaster or the rides, and if the crap hits the fan up there, I’ll have to rescue Kate. I won’t be able to evac him fast enough.”