Capsized

by Sharon Sala

  OUT OF DANGER AND…INTO HIS ARMS?

  Undercover DEA agent Kelly Sloan was tasked with taking down Mexican druglord Dominic Ortega, but when her cover was blown, she barely escaped with her life. After being taken out on his yacht and tortured for information, she literally leapt at the chance to escape overboard, figuring death at sea was better than death at the hands of her vicious captor. But fate had something other than death in mind for her.

  Texas Ranger Quinn McCord was dealing with problems of his own, so the last thing he needed was a gorgeous, nearly naked woman with a shady past. And before the unconscious beauty on the beach even came to, he knew she was either trouble or in trouble—maybe both—because the men patrolling the shallows with a speedboat and binoculars weren’t tourists out for a day’s fishing. His finely honed instincts told him that she was their quarry, and that he had to protect her and find out what was really going on.

  If Kelly was shocked to find herself waking up in the arms of a handsome stranger, Quinn was no less surprised to discover that his damself-in-distress was a very capable agent who’d quite possibly killed the infamous Dominic Ortega before getting away. Unfortunately for them both, Ortega hadn’t died. Instead he’d put a two-million-dollar bounty on her head and sent his army of killers-for-hire in pursuit.

  Now Kelly and Quinn are both the pursued and the pursuers as they try to stay alive long enough for Kelly to testify against Ortega–and for the two of them to follow up on the once-in-a-lifetime attraction neither one of them wants to fight.

  Previously published.

  Praise for these New York Times

  and USA TODAY bestselling authors

  Heather Graham

  “Graham wields a deftly sexy and convincing pen.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Heather Graham will keep you in suspense

  until the very end.”

  —Literary Times

  Carla Neggers

  “Nobody does romantic suspense

  better than Carla Neggers. The Whisper is big,

  bold and stunningly effective. Evidence of a writer at

  the absolute top of her game still climbing higher.”

  —Providence Journal

  “Suspense, romance, and the rocky Maine coast—

  what more could a reader ask for? The Harbor has it

  all…. A story so vivid you can smell the salt air

  and feel the mist on your skin.”

  —New York Times bestselling author Tess Gerritsen

  Sharon Sala

  “[A] well-written, fast-paced ride.”

  —Publishers Weekly on Nine Lives

  “Vivid, gripping…this thriller keeps the pages turning.”

  —Library Journal on Torn Apart

  CAPSIZED

  Sharon Sala

  For my auntie, Lorraine Stone,

  who shares my love of writing, and who waves the

  flag of my success as fervently as my mother does.

  Thank you, Auntie, for talking my talk.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  Even though there was a gentle breeze teasing the palm fronds hanging over the second-floor balcony of Dominic Ortega’s Mexican mansion, for DEA agent Kelly Sloan, the pseudo-Eden was in fact a true hell. At twenty-seven, she was one of the best undercover agents the Drug Enforcement Agency had, which was why she was so far away from her home state of Maryland. It was her dark hair and eyes, as well as her fluency in Spanish, that helped her blend easily into assignments such as this, as did her Master’s in chemistry. As an undercover agent, she was used to dangerous situations, but something about this case was different.

  Tomorrow would be the fourteenth day since Ortega had invited her into his home. Before, she’d been staying in the sleeping quarters near the lab where the other chemists worked, but since her move into the mansion, she had used every tactic she knew to keep Ortega pacified without having to sleep with him.

  Only now time was running out. She had enough information to put him away for life, but she had a problem. For the past two days, she had been unable to reach her contact in Tijuana. She didn’t want to think about what that meant.

  But tomorrow, Dominic was going to Mexico City, and she’d talked him into taking her with him. She’d made plans to ditch him there and get back to the States. She’d already accumulated the evidence to qualify him for the death penalty. Right before she’d moved into the mansion, she’d mailed everything she had back to herself in the States. Everything would still work out. She would get back to D.C. with time to spare before testifying at Ponce Gruber’s trial, then wait for Ortega to be arrested, then extradited.

  Coming here had been chancy, but necessary. Three months ago, Ortega’s brother-in-law, Ponce Gruber, had been arrested for arson and murder. They had enough on him to warrant the death penalty, and Gruber knew it, but he’d offered to deal. Giving up his brother-in-law would have been a death sentence of another sort, so the deal had to be something different. That was when the DEA had offered him the option of giving them enough information to get someone inside Ortega’s organization. Tell them what to look for and where, then they would do the rest. Gruber had been more than willing to trade information for a life sentence. There would be no way Ortega could link the mole to him, so he would stay alive.

  It had taken Kelly a month to make the first connection Gruber gave them, then another month to work her way into Dominic Ortega’s immediate surroundings. Using her knowledge and skills in the manufacturing of designer drugs, and posing as a chemist named Paloma Santiago, she quickly became invaluable at the research laboratory on Ortega’s estate.

  After that, it was only a matter of time before Ortega noticed her. Assuming she would be impressed by his power and good looks, Ortega had invited her to stay in the mansion. She’d accepted his invitation, but with reservations. She had announced no mixing business with pleasure. Ortega had been interested enough to let her get by with it, but Kelly knew his patience was running thin.

  Today, she had lingered in the house, reluctant to go to the lab. She would wonder later how her life might have been different if she had done what she was supposed to do.

  Instead, she turned to face the breeze, enjoying the momentary break in the heat while holding a Tropical Suicide in one hand and a pair of sunglasses in the other. It was a bit early in the day to be drinking, but she felt a restlessness—almost a wariness—that she couldn’t explain. Thinking the alcohol punch in the fruit-flavored drink might be just what she needed, she’d readily accepted it. But now an hour had passed, and except for a couple of sips, she’d barely tasted it.

  “Señorita…do you wish another drink?”

  Kelly shook her head, then smiled down at the house-boy who had called up to her from the patio below. One Tropical Suicide was dangerous. Two could make her lose her edge, and that she couldn’t afford. Not when she was this close to bringing Dominic Ortega down.

  She looked up, then turned her gaze to the north. Home was somewhere beyond the horizon, and she wished she was there. The Mexican side of the border could be beautiful, but she was not here on vacation.

  She took a small, careful sip of her drink, wincing at the potency of the rum and tequila mix, then went back into her room to get ready to go to the lab. In doing so, she missed seeing the arrival of Dominic’s latest guest.

  * * *

  Jose Garza was a third-rate pusher working in the stateside faction of Ortega’s organization. He’d seen the woman up on the balcony as he’d driven up, bu
t she’d turned away before he’d gotten a good look at her face. Dominic was a man who liked beautiful women, and Jose thought nothing more of her as Ortega himself came out to greet him.

  “Jose! It is good to see you again!” Dominic enfolded Garza in a manly hug.

  Jose smiled as he returned the affectionate greeting. It was good to be back where he belonged.

  “It is good to be home,” Jose said, then stepped back, eyeing Dominic’s elegant white shirt and pants, as well as the diamonds he was wearing.

  “Nice ice,” Jose said, eyeing the two-carat stud in Dominic’s left ear.

  Dominic’s thank you was a smile as he slid a hand across Jose’s shoulder and guided him into the house. As he did, sunlight caught and fired through the ring he wore on his right hand. It was an emerald-cut diamond set in a chunk of pure silver, and yet another diamond glittered as it dangled from a silver chain around his neck.

  Ortega coveted the precious gems as a greedy woman might have done, and while he was movie-star handsome, his looks were not enough to hide his ruthlessness and greed. Jose Garza wished, on a daily basis, that he could be this man.

  Dominic turned, calling out to a passing servant to bring them some food and drink, then led the way into a large, open room with doors flung wide onto an adjoining, flower-lined, terrace.

  “Sit. Eat,” he said, as a servant brought a large tray of food; then he stepped out into the foyer and called up the staircase. “Paloma…I need you.”

  Moments later, Kelly appeared at the head of the stairs, wearing a backless red and white ankle-length dress. Dominic smiled wolfishly at the dark-haired beauty, then waved her down. Although he had plenty of other willing women to fulfill his sexual needs, he had yet to bed this one.

  As soon as Kelly stepped off the last step, she shifted mental gears. Dominic Ortega knew her as Paloma Santiago, and Paloma not only worked for Ortega, she was supposed to be attracted to him, despite her insistence on keeping her distance. She hid her revulsion as he threaded his fingers through her hair.

  “I was just on my way to the lab,” she said.

  He fingered the front of her dress just above her breasts.

  “In this dress?”

  “I like to look nice for you,” she said softly.

  Dominic’s heartbeat accelerated as he considered telling Jose to entertain himself and taking Paloma back upstairs to his bed, then he discarded the thought. Instead, he slipped a hand beneath the weight of her hair.

  “Paloma, my love, there is someone I want you to meet.”

  Kelly nodded as he led her into the salon. It wasn’t until the man on the sofa looked up that she realized today she would die. The last time she’d seen this man, he’d been on his way to prison.

  “Madre di Dios!” Jose said, and jumped to his feet.

  Kelly tensed, then sighed. There was nowhere to run, and even if there had been, there was no time to do it. Besides, she knew not to let them see her fear.

  “Well, well,” she drawled. “Jose! Long time no see.”

  Dominic frowned. “What is going on here? You two know each other?”

  “We should,” Kelly said. “I helped put him in prison.”

  Dominic’s lips went slack. “What are you saying?”

  Jose started to smile. “So…chica…now the shoe is on the other foot, no?”

  “You still stink,” Kelly said, bracing herself for the blow. The fist to her gut doubled her over.

  Dominic cursed with dismay and grabbed Jose’s arm.

  “Talk to me now, or I swear to God I will kill you myself,” he said.

  “Somebody played you for a fool. She’s DEA.”

  Dominic flinched, his eyes widening and his nostrils flaring as he stared at her in disbelief.

  “No,” he muttered. “I do not believe this.”

  Kelly pulled herself upright, then lifted her chin, unwilling to let them see her fear.

  “As much as I hate to admit it,” she said. “Old Joe is right.”

  Using the American version of his name made Jose flush with anger. He grabbed her hair and yanked, pulling her head backward and exposing the tender vulnerability of her neck.

  “Let me kill her,” he begged. “She cost me three years of my life. Please, Dom…give her to me.”

  “No,” Dominic said, and slapped Jose’s hand away, then curled his fingers around Kelly’s neck. “Why?” Dominic asked. “Why are you here?”

  “Had to use some vacation time or lose it,” Kelly said.

  Dominic slapped her, as if brushing a fly from his sleeve, then turned and shouted. The sound reverberated throughout the entire downstairs.

  “Miguel! Come here now!”

  Seconds later, a stocky Latino with a pockmarked face and a ponytail hanging halfway down his back came running into the room. It wasn’t often that Dominic behaved in such a manner, but when he did, they all knew someone had made a mistake.

  “Sí, Patron, how can I help you?”

  Dominic pointed at Kelly. “You brought this woman into my organization.”

  Miguel started to sweat. “But no, Patron…you are the one who hired her to come to this lab.”

  Dominic pulled out his gun and shot him where he stood. At the sound, a half-dozen men came running with guns drawn.

  “Get him out of here,” Dominic snarled.

  Fearing they might be next, they did as he asked without question.

  Then Dominic turned to Kelly. “So, puta, you think you can take me down?” Kelly smiled.

  It wasn’t the reaction Dominic expected. Suddenly realization dawned. His stupid brother-in-law. He should have killed him years ago.

  “It was Ponce, wasn’t it?”

  “Who’s Ponce?” Kelly asked.

  Dominic slapped her again.

  “Please, Dom…let me kill her,” Jose begged.

  Dominic stared at her for a moment, then nodded.

  “Yes, I will let you kill her…but not until I know what information she’s already told…and to who.” He pointed toward the back of the house. “Go find Esteban. Tell him to get the chopper ready. It’s such a fine day, I think we’ll fly to the coast and take the boat out on the water. I have a hunger to see Galveston…maybe do some fishing in the beautiful waters of the bay.”

  Jose started to smile. Now he understood. Torture was a noisy business, and screams were easily lost in the vastness of the ocean.

  Kelly stifled a shudder as she held herself erect.

  “Better bring along some Dramamine. I have a tendency toward motion sickness.”

  Dominic smirked at her. “You should not worry about getting seasick. Before I am through with you, you will wish you were dead.”

  Kelly made herself smile. “Don’t any of you assholes have new material? That’s what all the bad guys say.”

  Dominic doubled up his fist and hit her on the chin. She went down without a sound.

  “Now, miss smart-mouth, what do you have to say about that?”

  * * *

  Kelly woke up with the sun in her face again. She thought it was the second, or maybe the third, day on Ortega’s boat. As she had predicted, she’d been seasick—so seasick that the beatings he had administered had been ineffectual. She’d thrown up on his pants and his shoes, and once on the front of his shirt. Ironically, it was Kelly’s misery that was keeping her alive.

  Now she was awake again. She lay without moving or opening her eyes, wanting them to think she was still unconscious, even though her stomach had finally settled. It took a few moments for her to realize the boat was at anchor and the sea was relatively calm. Fear spiked. If she couldn’t get sick, she would probably get dead.

  God help me out of this…please!

  Footsteps sounded aft. She wanted to turn around and look but was unwilling to face her devil. A seagull squawked from somewhere overhead; then she heard another, then another, as the sound of flapping wings broke the stillness of the air. As she listened, another familiar sound penetra
ted her consciousness, but one more distant than the birds. It was the sound of waves upon the shore. But what shore—and how far away was it? If only she knew where Ortega had anchored the boat.

  “She’s awake.”

  That was Jose Garza. Kelly recognized his voice and moaned, wishing for that familiar lurch in her stomach that would signal another outpouring of bile, but nothing stirred.

  “If she pukes on me again, I will kill her where she lies.”

  That voice belonged to Dominic Ortega. Silently, Kelly started to pray.

  Pain shattered her concentration as the toe of a boot connected with her ribs. She moaned and tried to roll over, only to find one of her wrists had been tied to the deck.

  “Sit up, bitch.”

  Kelly opened her eyes. Dominic was leaning over her with the blade of a knife held to her throat.

  “Then untie me,” she mumbled.

  Dominic frowned, then motioned to Jose, who quickly released her.

  Kelly sat up slowly, testing her equilibrium against the gentle rocking of the boat. She looked up just in time to see Ortega’s fist coming at her. She turned, trying to miss the blow, and in doing so, caused it to land at the back of her head, rather than the side of her jaw. The blow was teeth-jarring, as was the pain that shot through her head as his ring cut through her flesh.

  She fell backward from the impact, then rolled onto her side. As she did, the image of her mother’s face flashed through her mind. Her mother had been dead for almost nine years. Maybe this was God’s way of preparing her for her own “crossing” into another life. Then Ortega’s fingers fisted in her hair.

  “Who is your contact?” he growled. “What have you told him?”

  Kelly rolled over onto her back, her eyes blazing with anger and hate.

  “You’re crazier than you look if you think I’m going to tell you anything,” Kelly muttered. “For once, be a man and just get this over with.”

  Ortega sneered. “I’ll show you a man.” He began to unbuckle his belt.

  “If you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all,” Kelly said, then stifled a groan when Jose ran the blade of his knife along the bottoms of both her feet.