“So, Mr….?” Logan paused, hoping Scar would fill in the gap. “Speaking of rude, you have neglected to tell us your name.”
Scar smiled. “My name is not important at this moment but soon you will know.”
Russian? Ukrainian? Scar’s strong accent definitely sounded like he was from that side of the world, but it was hard to tell. He must have been good looking once, but the scar was pretty intense. Logan didn’t even want to speculate what had caused it. “Well, whatever. What do you want?”
“What do I want? Good question. I want what everyone wants. I want a world where children grow up blissfully ignorant of war and are free to pursue their dreams. I want to live in the kind of place where my wife, and family will be safe in our home. I want to grow old on land that is mine, ruled by people, my people, who understand the values I hold dear, and have our best interests at heart.”
“Wonderful,” Logan said with sarcasm. “What does that have to do with us?”
Scar smiled. “With you? Nothing. You are just extra baggage that I am willing to dispose of at any time. Ms. Carmichael, however, is going to help me get what I want.”
“If my father refused to sell to you, I doubt kidnapping me is going to help your cause. He tends to frown on that sort of thing.” She smiled tightly and took another sip of her drink. “You would have better luck if you let me speak to him about your cause. This”—she paused as if searching for the right word—“behavior is not going to earn you any favors.”
“That’s where you are wrong.” Scar got up off the couch. “This behavior is going to get me exactly what I want.” He strolled forward and caressed Lacy’s cheek again. She’d apparently had enough because she threw the dregs of her drink in his face. About damn time, but he immediately regretted the thought when Scar slapped Lacy hard across the face. Logan lunged forward, but Scar’s minion punched him in the kidneys from behind, and he dropped to his knees.
Lacy’s head had snapped back. When she lowered it, she swiped the back of her hand across the trickle of blood coming from the corner of her mouth. All while staring at Scar with hatred in her eyes.
Logan wanted desperately to smash the guy’s face into the floor. He struggled to his feet again, but Hairy was now in front of him and the gun was pointed at Logan’s chest.
“Alexey, take them down to the engine room,” Scar ground out as he strode from the room without a backward look. Baldy was Alexey. Definitely Russian, or former Eastern Bloc anyway. Alexey strode forward, forcing them out of the room.
Logan followed Lacy as Hairy took the lead. Baldy brought up the re, his gun pointed at Logan. No way to do anything but follow along.
Hairy led them down a hallway before coming to a stop in front of a doorway. He opened it, and Alexey pushed them in, following closely behind. He shoved them over to the wall and zip-tied their already-shackled hands around a protruding pipe. The bastard had cuffed them above a joint halfway up the wall, so they couldn’t sit down. After making sure they were secure, both guards left. The click of the lock engaging was audible over the racket in the room.
“Are you all right?” Logan asked, “How’s your lip?”
“It’s fine. I’ve had better days, but I’m surviving. You?”
“Yeah.” Logan took a look at their surroundings. Engine room. Loud, smelly, and dark. The only light emanated from the exit sign and some of the equipment. He sighed. What was with the dark, smelly spaces? His stomach lurched, and he glanced at Lacy. She was leaning against the wall with her eyes closed.
“Hey, weren’t you in the Navy?” she murmured. She still had her eyes closed. “You must be familiar with this type of thing.”
“Oh, yeah. I was kidnapped and beaten all the time in the Navy,” he responded.
Her eyes snapped open, and she glared at him. “I meant you must be familiar with boats. I’m totally open to any ideas you have. I have to say I’m fresh out.”
“Uh huh. I was in the JAG Corps, which basically means I spent my time in a courtroom, not aboard ships. Other than a few operations with my brothers, this is all pretty much new to me, too.”
“Great.” She sighed heavily. “I thought all you Navy guys were supposed to be superheroes or something. You run a security company. Isn’t there training for this sort of thing?”
“Well, sorry to disappoint, but I’m human. And the security company was a home security company until recently. We don’t train people on boating safety or how to escape a kidnapping, but I’ll be sure to add both to the list of services we offer when I get back.”
“Wonderful,” she snarked.
The throbbing of the engines was giving Logan a massive headache. He had no clue what Scar was planning, but it would be better if they weren’t around to find out. Which meant they had to get the ties off. “You still have that plastic?”
Lacy nodded.
“Now might be the time to dig it out. Maybe we can use it to cut off the ties.”
She tried to get the plastic, but no matter how she moved, the pipe kept getting in her way. There wasn’t enough slack for her to move her hands.
“I can’t get it.” She swore as she tried again. The ties were biting into the skin on her wrists.
“Relax. Don’t hurt yourself.” Logan moved closer. “Where is it?”
She made a face and sighed loudly. “It’s in my bra.”
He tried his absolute best to keep his face neutral. “Uh, I think I can get it. My hands are at a better angle.”
Lacy’s glare told him he hadn’t been totally successful at stifling his grin. She probably wasn’t too keen on having his hands in her bra either, but hey, desperate times. At least there was an upside to this whole debacle.
Lacy leaned toward him as he moved forward. “It’s on the left side.”
“Oh. Um, can you turn a bit to give me better access?” He thought he heard her curse, but she did it anyway.
When he moved his fingers to the inside of her dress, she sucked in a breath. He glanced down at her. “Sorry, my fingers are a bit cold.” She just nodded and bit her lip.
He tried to keep himself under control, but his dick had other ideas. Her breast was soft, round, and firm. From the earlier experience, he knew it would perfectly fill his palm. Concentrate, Logan.
He slipped his fingers deeper into her bra, grazing her nipple. When it puckered, she shifted away slightly. He had to stifle a groan. He was so hard he was rubbing uncomfortably on the zipper of his dress pants.
He reached a bit farther and felt the edge of the plastic, but she moved away again. This time his hand came out of her bra.
“Wait! I didn’t get it. You have to stay still so I can grab it without cutting you, OK?”
He could see her clamp her jaws together. Was she really angry? It wasn’t like they had a choice.
“Fine,” she muttered.
He moved his fingers slowly along the inside of her bra, trying to keep his breath steady, but the feel of her warm, silky skin brought all kinds of unwanted thoughts into his head. Her nipple was puckered and rigid, and it wasn’t anger that had her grinding her teeth. Well, she wasn’t the only one who was hard. He swallowed and tried to focus on the job at hand. Finally, he got a grip on the jagged edge.
“Got it. Now, I am going to bring it out as slowly as possible. I don’t want to cut you.” His voice came out far huskier then he wanted.
Her eyes narrowed again. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
He tried to feign innocence, but she pointedly looked down at his crotch. Busted. He grinned at her. “I can’t help it. Natural reaction to having my hand on your breast.”
She rolled her eyes. “Get on with it.”
It took him a minute. He almost dropped it twice, but it finally emerged from her clothing. “Yes!” He was triumphant.
Lacy stepped back quickly. If he didn’t know better, he would have said his touch repelled her. Logan watched her, but her face gave nothing away, and why would it? She was a woman
who’d spent her life keeping dangerous secrets. He’d do well to remember that.
Chapter Four
Lacy breathed a sigh of relief. It had been difficult to stand that close to Logan, especially since she knew he felt the attraction, too. Hard to miss that. She smirked at the thought, but the smile quickly slipped away. She could still smell his maleness, feel his hand damn near cupping her breast. Heat was radiating up from her core and she was slightly damp, not that she’d ever admit that to him.
This hypersensitivity to Logan had to stop. She had to get herself under control. It was a distraction—one she could not afford at the moment.
Her father would have to know by now that she’d been kidnapped. There were people on his payroll all over the islands. Surely, Omar, his head of security, was already planning some sort of rescue. But she couldn’t wait to be rescued, not if the opportunity to escape presented itself.
She winced a little as the blood-soaked lace of her bra stuck to her cut. Better not mention it to Logan. He might feel badly about cutting her with the plastic and want to check it out. If she was salivating over him now, showing him her boob would only make things worse.
She felt the weight of his gaze on her.
“Are you OK?” His eyes showed concern.
She cleared her throat. “Yes. Fine. How is it coming?” She glanced at his wrists but couldn’t make out the ties in the dim lighting. “I think it would be wise if we’re not in this room when they come looking for us.”
Regardless of whatever her father’s people might have planned, being a sitting duck was not a good thing by any definition. Was her father a sitting duck? She hoped Omar had doubled or tripled her father’s security detail. He wasn’t getting any younger—and he was a sick man.
The phone call she had received a few months ago when her father announced he had diabetes had rocked her world. Diabetes wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but they were having trouble controlling it. At a low moment, he’d confessed he wasn’t feeling the best.
Panic had gripped her and she’d wanted to rush to his side, but he’d insisted they wait for the visit that was already planned. Guilt washed over her. Though impatient to see him, she had ultimately agreed—after all, she wasn’t quite sure how he’d take what she had to tell him…
She was still pissed at him for putting her off when she first arrived on the island. He wouldn’t even let her come to the house. Maybe he knew something was up. But then, why didn’t he say something? She’d given up trying to figure out her father a long time ago, but now she wished she’d insisted on seeing him right away. Tears blurred her vision and she rapidly blinked them away.
She’d been groomed to follow in her mother’s footsteps and take over the business. After all, her mother was the great Giselle Fontaine; whip smart, business savvy, and wild, a star of the “underworld.” But Lacy just wasn’t interested, never had been. She’d only gone along with the plan to please her father. It was hard being an only child, especially since her mother, the great love of her father’s life, was deceased. She was all her father had. And he was all she had as well.
She had gone to law school, as requested, and then joined a big firm in New York City. She was moving up the ranks quickly, but her heart wasn’t in it.
None of her life felt like it was her own. Even her visits to her father were shrouded in mystery and lies, and she was sick of the whole thing. If—when—she got out of this predicament, she was going to tell her father the time had come for her to stand on her own two feet. She was going to forge her own path, and now that he was sick, she was determined to get him out of the family business as well.
Logan grunted and snapped his wrists apart. “Now you.” She held out her wrists to him, praying he wouldn’t feel her pulse pounding. It would destroy the cool and collected impression she was trying to make. He held them gently in one hand. “Hold still. I’ll do my best not to cut you, but I make no promises.”
“Don’t worry about it. Just get me free so we can get out of here.” She bit the inside of her lip, trying to keep calm despite the panic bubble rising in her chest, but before she knew it, the bubble burst, and she was shaking with laughter. Part of her brain knew how ridiculous it was to laugh, but she couldn’t help it. Nervous laughter had always been her response to stress.
Logan cursed as he made a small cut on her wrist. He glanced up at her, but whatever he was going to say died on his lips. The sound of her laughter echoed around the engine room.
“Are you all right?” he asked with real concern in his voice. She could tell he was calculating what the hell he was going to do with this insane woman. He started sawing away furiously at the zip ties. It made her laugh all the more. She couldn’t breathe she was laughing so hard, and tears were streaming down her cheeks.
She was finally getting herself under control when she felt the tie around her hands give. Logan watched her warily. The laughter started to build again, but suddenly there was a bang on the door to the engine room. It drove all the laughter from her chest. Frozen in place, she stared at Logan.
He put his finger to his lips and moved her away from the door, back behind one of the engines. They stood there silently, pressed together in the dark for several long minutes. It was the worst possible time, but her whole body suddenly felt alive with sensation. She wanted desperately to kiss him, stroke him. Who was she kidding? She wanted to have him here, now, on the engine room floor. She needed space, or it wasn’t going to be pretty.
Logan finally moved out from behind the engine. She was simultaneously thankful and disappointed. “I think it’s all clear. Our best bet might be to jump over the side and swim for it. Can you handle that?”
She could read between the lines well enough to tell he was asking if she was going to lose it again. “I’m fine now. I just needed to let off a bit of stress.”
His facial expression clearly said he didn’t believe her. Men. If women laughed in a moment of crisis, it was weakness. If men did it, they were laughing in the face of danger.
She sighed loudly. Schooling her features, she summoned her best lawyer voice and said, “I concur with your opinion. There are too many men onboard for us to take the ship, and it’s not big enough to hide in for any great length of time. There are seven hundred islands in the Bahamas, only a few of which are uninhabited. Depending on which direction they took, we have a fair chance of being able to swim to one and seek help.”
Logan nodded. “The water will be warmish, but it’s still very easy to get hypothermia. We won’t have that long before we’re in trouble. I’m assuming you can swim, but this isn’t just a romp in a heated pool. Are you up for it?”
She could tell he was fighting some kind of internal battle. He ran his hands over his face. Finally, he appeared to come to a decision. “It might be better if I swim for help and you hide on the boat. It’ll buy you some time because they’ll search for me. And I can bring the authorities back with me,” he stated in a firm voice.
She tried not to roll her eyes, but it was hard. “I don’t think so. If you end up drowning, I’ll have no way of knowing.”
Logan’s eyebrows shot up.
“I would rather take my chances in the water. I’m well aware of the water conditions and the hypothermia risk. I’m a good swimmer. Six years on the boarding school swim team.” She set her jaw and glared at him. “Are we ready to go?”
He was obviously still unsure, but he shrugged his shoulders. Probably thinking, It’s her funeral. Well, that was true either way, wasn’t it? Nothing good could come of staying here. A small bubble of semi-hysterical laughter started up again, but she firmly stifled it. She could do this.
Logan walked over to the door they’d been pushed through and tested it. It was obviously locked.
“We need to go this way,” Lacy said, pointing to a door at the opposite end of the room. When he turned and narrowed his eyes at her, she said with a shrug, “My father has a yacht like this.”
�
�Of course, he does,” Logan ground out.
Lacy ignored him and said, “This door should lead to a storage area for jet skis and the like. They’re launched from there off the back of the yacht.”
He shook his head and mumbled under his breath as he made his way to the door.
“Good thinking, Lacy,” she muttered to herself under the roar of the engines. Men suck, she reminded herself. Sure, Logan was six feet plus of delicious sexiness, but facts were facts. She walked up behind him as he turned the handle, and to her great surprise, the door opened on the first try. Thankfully, no one was on the other side was waiting for them.
Logan stepped through the door with Lacy on his heels. The area was dark, but there was no back wall. The stern of the ship was open to the night sky. The opening was slanted with the deck sticking out further than the roof line. There were two jet skis gleaming in the ambient light. They were resting in the middle of the deck, but there was a small crane to pick them up and put them off the back of the yacht. Escape. Looking at them brought a burst of euphoria and then a wave of dread. “We can’t take them, can we?” Lacy said in hushed tones. The sound of the engines wasn’t as loud out here, and she didn’t want to be overheard.
Logan shook his head. “The moment we tried to launch one, all kinds of bells and whistles would go off on the bridge. Besides, I’m not even sure the winch would work while we’re traveling at this speed,” Logan whispered back.
She nodded and walked to the side of the jet skis, toward the stern of the yacht, careful to stay underneath the slight overhang. If she went too far, she could be seen from overhead. They were right above water level, which was good, but they were also above the propellers. Not so good.
He came up beside her. “We’re going to have to jump for it. Hitting the water at this speed is very dangerous. If you enter at the wrong angle…” He didn’t finish the thought. He didn’t have to. She had spent enough years swimming to know how dangerous water could be. Hitting water could be just like hitting cement if you didn’t do it right.
Smash and Grab: Action-Packed Thrilling Romantic Suspense (Callahan Security Series Book 2) Page 4