High Stakes Seduction

by Lori Wilde

  That was when he saw the boat anchored just off shore. Barksdale was using a boat as a getaway vehicle.

  Why hadn’t he anticipated that? Why hadn’t Higgins anticipated it?

  Feeling like a wretched fool, he raced toward the end of the pier where Barksdale was already throwing a struggling Eva into the boat. The moon came out from behind a cloud again and he saw Barksdale raise his hand with something in it.

  Moonlight reflected off metal.

  A gun.

  The chilled blood that had been sluggishly pumping through Adam’s veins froze to ice. Barksdale was going to shoot Eva!

  But instead of shooting her, Barksdale brought the butt of the gun down on Eva’s head. She stopped struggling, and went limp in his arms.

  Adam still wasn’t close enough to fire off a shot. He ran as fast as he could, heart slamming into his rib cage, shoes kicking up sand that seemed to reach out, grab hold of him and yank him back.

  “Stop!” he shouted. “Special Agent ONI.”

  Right. Like Barksdale was really going to stop what he was doing, raise his hands over his head and surrender on the spot.

  But it was protocol. Adam wasn’t going to give any scuzzball lawyer an excuse to spring Barksdale on a technicality. He’d make sure the bastard went to prison if it was the last thing he did.

  Barksdale jerked on the throttle of the speedboat. Eva was draped lifelessly over the passenger seat.

  If Adam hoped to save her, he had to do something now. He should call Kilgore and Rogers, but there wasn’t time. He had to act. Protocol be damned. Frantically, he searched the beach.

  What to do? What to do?

  He heard salvation first before he spied it. A Jet Ski was pulling up to the pier.

  Adam ran through the water, splashing and shouting, his gun in his hand. Startled, the man driving the Jet Ski fell off into the water and the engine died. Automatic kill switch.

  The man raised his hands in front of his face, and sank back into the ocean. “Don’t shoot, please don’t shoot. I’m getting married in a week.”

  “I’m commandeering this craft in the name of the U.S. government,” Adam said, stopping just long enough to snatch the key from the band around the guy’s wrist. He stuffed his gun back into his shoulder holster, swung astride the Jet Ski and spun around, heading into the ocean.

  Barksdale’s boat had several yards on him, but the Jet Ski was souped-up with an extra powerful engine. He pushed it to full throttle and blasted into the darkness, pummeling oncoming waves. As he closed the distance between them, his hopes soared. He was going to catch up with them! He was going to save Eva.

  Then Barksdale started firing at him.

  THE BLAST ROUSED EVA.

  Firecrackers? Who was shooting firecrackers?

  Her head throbbed. She put a hand to her temple, felt something warm and sticky tracking down her skin. She was bleeding. Groggily, she blinked, trying to process what was happening.

  Boat. She was in a boat on the ocean.

  Keith, looking like a madman with wind-tousled hair and frantic eyes, was at the helm. He had a gun and he kept turning around to fire at someone behind them.

  She shook her head, trying to dislodge the lethargy that loosened her limbs.

  In the darkness, she saw the small headlamp of a Jet Ski behind them.

  Adam?

  Hope expanded her heart. But why would Adam be on a Jet Ski chasing after them? She was hoping for a hero rescue from an accountant. That wasn’t going to happen. It had to be someone else. Military police perhaps. NCIS. But why would the police be on a Jet Ski and not in a speedboat? It didn’t make any sense.

  Maybe Keith was just firing warning shots at someone who’d gotten too close. Probably no one was pursuing them at all. That thought shriveled her budding hope. If she wanted out of this, she was going to have to save herself. She’d learned a long time ago you couldn’t depend on anyone else to rescue you.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  Keith whipped his head around. “I’m kidnapping you.”

  That stunned her. “What for?”

  “You haven’t figured it out? Are you really that stupid? I knew you were an airhead, but I didn’t think you were totally clueless.”

  She couldn’t see his face very well in the darkness, but he was mocking her with an arrogant snarl. “Figured out what?”

  “Give me the locket.”

  She reached up to finger the chain of the locket. “Sure. Fine.”

  “Shit,” Keith said, and pushed the throttle on the boat as fast as it would go. It felt like warp speed as they zoomed through the night.

  Eva whipped her head around to see the Jet Ski gaining ground. A fresh flicker of hope flared in the embers of disappointment and fear. “Who’s following us?”

  “Not sure, but I’m presuming it’s your boyfriend.”

  “Adam?”

  “You got more than one boyfriend?” Barksdale stuffed the gun in his waistband and held out his right palm as he kept his left hand on the steering wheel. “Give me the locket.”

  This was her chance to act. He’d tucked the gun away. All she had to do was run at him, slam into him with her shoulders, and knock him overboard. She bent her knees and sprung up. Her head spun dizzily and her wobbly legs collapsed. She fell back against the seat.

  Keith laughed, reached over, twisted his fingers around the chain of the locket and yanked it off her neck. Pieces of the delicate platinum chain scattered in the darkness.

  “Stupid bitch, I don’t give a damn about the locket. I want what’s inside.” He jammed the locket in his pocket, then took hold of the gun again.

  “What’s inside?”

  “My ticket to freedom.”

  She was trembling all over. From the cold, from fear of Keith’s gun, from the realization that she had stepped into deep water and was in way over her head. “Why would Adam be following us?”

  Keith paused a moment to wave the gun in her face as a threat, then turned to shoot at the Jet Ski. “He’s ONI.”

  “Office of Naval Intelligence?”

  “Ding, ding, ding, Johnny,” he said in a voice like a game show announcer. “Tell Ms. St. George what she’s won. Could it be a one-way ticket to the bottom of the ocean?”

  Eva’s face went icy. Keith was going to kill her. “But why? What did I do?”

  “You got caught up in our little game of cat and mouse.”

  “Whose game?”

  “Mine and Mancuso’s.”

  “Will you just stop talking in circles and tell me what you’re talking about? You’re going to kill me anyway and I deserve to know why I’m going to die.”

  “I don’t have to tell you shit.” He pressed the hot gun against her cold forehead. The acrid smell of gunpowder filled her nose.

  Terrified, Eva shrank back against the seat, palms raised. “Okay, okay.”

  He pulled the gun away to shoot into the darkness again. Gunfire was so damned loud. “But, since you asked so nicely, yeah, okay, I’ll clue you in. Otherwise you’ll never figure it out.”

  “Figure what out?”

  “You take people at face value which is a very stupid thing to do, by the way. Everyone lies.”

  “Yes, yes, I’m a stupid idiot for trusting people, for liking you.”

  “You liked me only because I’m good at making people like me when I need to be. People are such damned sheep. They see what they want to see, believe what they want to believe.”

  That was true enough of her. She felt so wretchedly stupid. Keith was right. She was blind and dumb and trusting. Far too trusting. She’d trusted Adam as well and apparently he wasn’t what he seemed, either. But right now, she took a great deal of comfort in the fact that he was a naval intelligence officer and not an accountant.

  “What is this all about, Keith? What have I gotten wrapped up in?”

  “Prototype military weapons.”

  “You stole your country’s secrets? For wh
at? To sell to the highest bidder? You’re a traitor as well as a thief.”

  “Sticks and stones.” Keith fired the gun again and Eva cringed. “Dammit. Time to reload.”

  He set the gun on the seat, and dug in his pocket for a new clip. Eva thought again about attacking him or going for the empty gun and throwing it overboard, but Keith wagged his finger at her. “No, no.”

  He jammed the clip into the gun one-handed and turned to fire another shot.

  She slapped her hands over her ears. The Jet Ski was still behind them. Adam was coming to save her. She just had to hold on a little while longer, keep Keith talking.

  “So how did you steal top secret documents?”

  “Your boyfriend was working on encrypting the documents. He thought he was so good, such the little rule follower. He had no clue I’d managed to hack into his system until after I’d already stolen the information right out from under his nose.”

  “How did you manage to do that?”

  He leaned over to caress her cheek with the nose of the gun.

  Eva shuddered. One careless move and the gun could go off. Kill her dead.

  He’s going to kill you anyway.

  The reality of the situation finally hit her. She was going to die without ever telling Adam she loved him. But did she really love him? She thought she did, but that was before she found out he’d been lying to her. She didn’t even know who he really was.

  “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” Barksdale chortled. “Wait, I am going to kill you, so I might as well tell you. Besides, if it wasn’t for you, none of this would have been possible.”

  “What?” Eva blinked, pulling her mind from thoughts of Adam and focusing on Keith. She had to be present and fully alert if she had any hopes of getting out of this alive.

  “You’re the one who led me to the people who’re going to pay me six million dollars for what’s inside your locket.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Why did you think I dated you?”

  “I thought you liked me.”

  “Well, you do have one hell of a body, I’ll give you that.” Keith’s eyes raked over her breasts. “But no, I cozied up to you because of your class.”

  “What’s that got to do with anything?”

  He proceeded to explain how his civilian job with the ONI had put him in the position to access foreign nationals on the government watch list. “When I found one that had influential connections in a wealthy country willing to pay for the secrets I could provide, I couldn’t really approach him and say, ‘Hi, my name’s Keith, I want to steal U.S. secrets for your government.’ He would have thought I was trying to set him up. Then I discovered he took yoga at your studio. It seemed the perfect opportunity. Take a few classes. Befriend you. Get you to introduce me, then drop a few hints until he approached me with an offer.”

  “You used me.”

  “Wake up, princess. You were a means to an end. That’s all you ever were. A foil.”

  That hit her hard. Why hadn’t she suspected anything? Was she truly that damned gullible? That trusting? Clearly she was.

  “How did you pull all this off?”

  Keith looked proud of himself. “I’m an inventive guy.”

  “And yet, you didn’t get away with it. The ONI is after you.”

  “Yes. Well, it was unfortunate that I didn’t get more time to pass the microchip to my contact.”

  “The locket,” she said as everything finally clicked. “That’s why you gave it to me. You hid the microchip in it.”

  “After I downloaded the data onto the microchip I realized they were already on to me. I left the base, but I was afraid I was being followed. I didn’t know if they were going to arrest me right then or wait to see if I went to my contact. I was sitting at a stoplight, saw the jewelry store and it all fell into place. I pulled over, went in, bought the locket—which by the way, has a secret compartment, just perfect for hiding a microchip. I drove to the yoga studio, gave you the locket and just as I was leaving, they arrested me. They kept me for twenty-four hours, but didn’t have enough evidence to hold me.”

  “That’s when you came back to the studio, broke up with me and asked for the locket back.”

  “I would already be out of the country by now if NCIS hadn’t shown up when they did,” he said. “By then the heat was on. They installed your boyfriend in the apartment across the street to watch your place and they put another ONI agent in your yoga class.”

  It all made sense now. She’d thought Adam had been watching her because he was attracted to her. But he’d simply been spying on her, hoping she’d lead him to Keith. He wasn’t following her now to save her. He was trying to arrest Keith. None of this had ever been about her. He’d only been doing his job and she was collateral fallout. He didn’t care about her. He didn’t love her.

  A feeling so utterly wretched it was indescribable settled over her. Keith might as well kill her. She had nothing to live for.

  “That’s why you came to talk to me when I was out surfing,” she said softly.

  “Yeah, but I didn’t know how to ask you about the locket without making you curious. I couldn’t afford to have you snooping inside of it.”

  “And you’re the one who texted me and said to meet you at the pier tonight, wearing the locket. It wasn’t Adam.”

  “I cloned his phone.” Keith gave a maniacal laugh. “I stole his file, cloned his phone—who’s better than the ONI? And you fell for it. Dumb blonde to the bone.”

  A strangled sob escaped her throat.

  “Ah, you’re just now realizing the truth, aren’t you? Poor baby. That bastard Mancuso used you just like I did. He broke your little Pollyanna heart.”

  She’d had enough of this. With a roar of anger, Eva gathered all her strength and lunged at him, going for his eyes with her fingers, gouging and poking.

  “Bitch!” he screamed as she knocked him off balance. The gun flew from his hand, skittering across the floor of the boat.

  Simultaneously, they dove for it, struggling and grappling.

  With no one at the helm, the boat charged the waves in a crazed bucking bronco dash, then sputtered and slowed from lack of gas.

  They rolled. Keith punched her on the jaw.

  Frick! That hurt.

  He grabbed hold of the gun, then kicked her in the ribs. She absorbed the blow through gritted teeth. He was panting hard. “On your feet,” he commanded.

  She staggered to her knees, and used the seat to drag herself to a standing position. From the corner of her eye, she saw a light in the distance near international waters. Another boat? Had this been Keith’s destination all along? A rendezvous with his buyer?

  Behind them, the Jet Ski lagged, the small engine overpowered by the heavier waves this far out at sea.

  “Okay,” Keith said. “I’ve got what I came for. I’ve had enough of you.” He racked the gun. “Party’s over.”

  Eva closed her eyes. Held her breath. This was it.

  She was going to die.

  And her last thoughts were of Adam.

  18

  ADAM WAS CLOSE ENOUGH to see the body go into the water.

  Emotion slammed into him, a cement truck of fear and pain, heartache and desperation. No. No!

  Barksdale had thrown Eva overboard. Alive? Or had he shot her first?

  Please, God, he prayed. Please let her be alive.

  Refusing to entertain any other thought, he urged the Jet Ski forward.

  Barksdale had turned the speedboat and headed toward a yacht anchored in international waters. He could go after Barksdale. Or he could go after Eva, save her from the water.

  Eva was a good swimmer and she knew the ocean. If she was dead, she was dead. If she was alive, she could make it until he got back to her or until one of his team could rescue her.

  That choice made sense. It was the smart thing to do. It’s what Higgins would order him to do.

  But Adam had learned that bl
indly following orders was not always the right thing to do. He had to follow his heart and if it cost him his career, well then so be it. It wasn’t a choice. No contest.

  He let Barksdale slip away, hopped the Jet Ski over a high wave and went in search of the woman he loved.

  EVA CAME UP SPUTTERING, spitting out mouthfuls of salty ocean. Her eyes burned. She was dazed from the blow to the head, the things she’d learned tonight and frantically treading water, but she was still breathing.

  What now? She heard nothing but the waves. Saw nothing but the black sky stretched above with a sprinkling of winking stars. She was a very long way from shore. Where was the Jet Ski? Did Adam have a clue she’d been thrown into the water? Or was he at this moment still pursuing Keith?

  She rolled onto her back and floated for what felt like a very long time, but was probably only minutes.

  A thin pencil of light cut through the darkness. Then she heard the Jet Ski. The engine died suddenly, but the headlamp stayed on.

  “Eva!”

  It was Adam, calling to her, a heavenly voice in the darkest of night.

  “Adam,” she croaked, surprised to hear her voice come out low and scratchy. “Eva?”

  “Here,” she tried to shout, but she couldn’t. “I’m here.”

  The Jet Ski engine revved up, the light drew closer. She waved a hand. “Here, here, I’m here.”

  Then miraculously, there he was, right in front of her. He cut the engine again, reached for her and his strong arms going around her tightly, pulling her up onto the Jet Ski amidst the buffeting waves.

  “Adam,” she whispered, “I…”

  “Shh, don’t talk now. Save your energy.” He kissed her tenderly on the forehead, tucked her arms around his waist, started the Jet Ski and headed back to shore.

  THEY REACHED THE BEACH some twenty minutes later. Commander Higgins and his team were waiting for him at a makeshift command post they’d set up. A Navy helicopter was in the air, flying out across the ocean. Eva had ridden with her face buried against his back, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Nothing had every felt so good, so wonderful. The woman he loved was alive. She’d survived.

  “Mancuso,” Higgins barked, the minute he docked the Jet Ski on the sand. “A word.”