by Rachel Grant
Ivy was right behind him and he held out an arm to halt her.
“What is it?”
“Shhh,” he said. There it was again, another thump…and a sound that turned his stomach.
“Stay here,” he said and pulled his gun as he crossed to the stern, looking down to the water.
He lowered his gun. The Syrians weren’t a threat anymore. A small mercy, they were either unconscious or already dead. Otherwise, they would be screaming.
“What is it?” Ivy repeated.
“Sharks,” he said.
Horror spread through Ivy even as she acknowledged a feeling of relief. She’d heard what the one terrorist wanted to do to her.
She stared at Dimitri’s back. She’d shocked herself when she pointed the gun at him.
The fight had been fast and furious, and she’d only just made it to the upper deck and pulled the gun when she’d witnessed Dimitri’s efficient and brutal disposal of the Russian.
She’d been prepared to shoot the Russian, but he was gone and Dimitri was in her sights, and for a moment, she saw a way out of this mess.
If she shot him, she could take Liberty back to Koror. She could hand CAM over to whatever US military official wanted it and hightail it home. Without CAM, no one would be after her. She wouldn’t be guilty of aiding and abetting a Russian spy.
But there stood Dimitri, the man who’d just risked his life to protect her. The man who’d just killed on her behalf. He’d…not even flinched at the idea of her shooting him. He’d just accepted it.
Proof he wanted out of this tangle too. Proof he wasn’t doing this for some anti-American ideological purpose. He wasn’t serving his government in the belief some greater good would come of abducting her. He wasn’t doing it for money or power.
To want money or power meant wanting to live to spend or wield. Working to achieve an ideological goal meant passion and drive, and when staring into the face of failure, frustration, and devastation floated to the top of the emotional cesspool.
Dimitri showed her in that moment he had no desire to live. No devastation. No anger. No passion. No drive.
He was well and truly hopeless.
She finally had the variables she needed to triangulate Dimitri Veselov’s position. He wasn’t doing this for himself. Someone was forcing him to play pawn. Alpha Dimitri would chafe at being someone else’s tool.
So she’d lowered the gun.
Now she stood on the deck with him, at a loss for what to say. She wanted to cover her ears and close her eyes against the sound of breakfasting sharks, but hiding from the situation wouldn’t help anyone. “What do we do now?”
“Their Zodiac is tied to the stern. They probably have a bigger boat nearby, with more of them.” Dimitri ran a hand over his face. “I need to get us out of here, before they come searching.”
She nodded and met his gaze without flinching. “And I need to turn off the locational beacon on CAM.”
Chapter Fifteen
Turning off the beacon was easy, but she had to call Mara or her boss would freak out. She needed to update Curt on what happened anyway. Emails and texts wouldn’t do. She had to speak with them both.
She could set up the satellite uplink and hook up her phone, but it would be faster and easier if Dimitri let her use his satellite phone—because she didn’t doubt for a second that he had one. The boat had to be riddled with hiding places. She’d never find it on her own.
She climbed the ladder, bracing herself for the confrontation. At least this way, her backdoor communication with Mara and Curt would remain secret. She stepped behind him, making noise that would carry over the loud engine. She didn’t want to startle him. Not now, when they were both coming down from adrenaline and knowing the man had lethal reflexes.
“If you’re here for the sat phone, it’s in the storage compartment under the captain’s chair.”
He stood at the helm, the deck-mounted chair pushed back on its track so it wasn’t in his way.
“You’re giving it up that easy?” She lifted the cushion and found the compartment.
He shrugged. “Saves time.”
Not surprisingly, she found three more handguns in the compartment along with the phone. She frowned. The phone was locked. “Pass code?” she asked.
He was silent for a moment, then said, “Tell me why you didn’t shoot me.”
She couldn’t begin to name the emotion that flooded her in that moment. All she knew was she wasn’t ready to tell him why. She studied the phone in her hands instead of meeting his gaze. She could probably get past the security feature if she hooked it to her computer.
“You had the perfect opportunity, and you let it go,” he continued. “Why?”
Only a lunatic would admit to believing him. Only the delusional would believe there was a way out of this that would save them both. And only a fool would want him to have hope and a reason to live.
She was none of those things.
She met his intense gaze. His jaw was tight. There wasn’t a laugh or smile line to be seen. It made her sad that in his thirty-four years, he had no creases on his face put there by joy.
She offered only a slight shake of her head.
His eyes lit with a different kind of shine. Calculating but not cold. “Fine, then. Kiss me, and I’ll tell you the code.”
She debated for a moment, then decided to give him a win. She’d bet he expected her to cheap out and give him a simple peck, but she enjoyed surprising Death Valley. Plus, even in giving him this small victory, she’d have him off-balance. Yet another test of her power.
She set the phone on the seat and stepped closer to him, then reached up slowly with both hands and cupped his cheeks. It had been a day and a half since he’d shaved. She stroked his cheeks, enjoying the feel of stubble against her palms as she held his gaze. Then she gave him a soft smile and pulled his head down. She started slow, brushing her lips across his, then settled in and deepened the kiss, opening her mouth and slipping her tongue between his lips.
His hands found her hips. He pulled her body flush with his, his arms crossed her back and hugged her to him as his mouth slanted, taking the kiss to the next level as his tongue delved deep.
The kiss was intense, hot, a slice of pleasure in a world gone haywire. She threaded her fingers in his hair and lost herself in the hot bliss of his mouth.
She wanted to push him into the captain’s chair, crawl onto his lap, and just kiss like this for hours.
He raised his head but then returned for quick nips at her lips, as reluctant to end the moment as she was. She pulled his mouth back to hers one last time, sucking on his tongue, savoring the flavor, texture, and heat of him. With regret, she dropped to her heels and released her grip on his hair. She held his gaze for a long moment and felt a flutter at the heat and intensity she saw there.
With a mental shake, she came back into herself and extracted her hips from his arms, then picked up the phone. She found her most businesslike voice, raised a brow, and said, “Code?”
And there was his smile. A thing of beauty that turned the hard lines of his face into something special.
“Steel orchid, that’s my Ivy,” he said. “The code is four-two-five-zero.”
“Four-two-five. You have an affinity for those numbers.”
“Yes.”
“Birth date?”
“No.”
“I suppose you could tell me, but then you’d have to kill me?” The irony was, with Dimitri, the ridiculous phrase could actually be true.
He returned his attention to the helm and pushed the throttle forward. “Kill myself,” he said, eyes facing forward to open sea. “Because I’d never hurt you.”
Foolish though it sounded, she believed him.
That kiss…was something else. If Dimitri didn’t know better, he’d think Ivy was trying to give him something to live for. And if he believed there was any way they could have a future, she might’ve had a chance at succeeding.
; “Stay where I can hear you,” he said before she could disappear with his phone.
“Power down, then, or I’ll never be able to hear Mara.”
He eased back on the throttle, then powered down. It had been thirty minutes since they’d pulled anchor. They’d put at least twenty nautical miles between themselves and where the sharks were having breakfast, safe enough to stop here, but they couldn’t stay long. Liberty was too recognizable.
He had a backup plan for the boat. He hadn’t expected to need it this soon, but he was prepared. He’d set it in motion after Ivy spoke with her boss.
“She’s going to insist I talk to Curt.”
He nodded. “He’ll want to report the attack to the local police. I’m sure FBI agents are en route, if not already in Koror.”
“What do I tell him about you?”
“Just say I saved your life and I’m protecting you and CAM.” His heart pounded as he considered the possibility of speaking with Dominick directly. No. It was too soon. He had too much to lose if he misread the attorney general.
Mara sat on the carpet next to Erica. They both leaned against the sofa in Erica’s living room, Erica with her nine-week-old daughter sleeping on her chest.
“As much as I wish she’d sleep more at night, I really love this part,” Erica said. “When she falls asleep just like this after nursing.”
Mara smiled. “Motherhood looks good on you.”
Erica buried her nose in Grace’s soft, dark hair. “Thanks. That’s…one of the reasons we asked you to dinner this evening. I—I hate doing this to you when the listing for Undine’s position hasn’t even been posted yet, but I won’t be going back to UAB when my leave is up.” She took a deep breath and continued. “Lee and I have been talking. We can afford for me to stay home, and I’ve decided that instead of feeling guilty, like I need to turn in my feminist card, I’m going to embrace it and be thankful we can afford to make the choice I want the most.”
“Oh, honey, being a feminist doesn’t mean you must be a career woman in addition to being a mom. It’s about being allowed to choose your own path instead of it being proscribed.” She reached out and squeezed Erica’s fingers.
They’d been close friends for a long time, but the fact that she was Erica’s ultimate boss meant at times Erica didn’t open up to Mara as much as she did with others in the office. “I wish I’d known you were struggling with that, sweetie. Work be damned, I’d have encouraged you to do what’s right for you, Grace, and Lee.”
“Thanks. I just… It was hard for me to articulate my thoughts and fears to anyone but Lee, and I realize now I couldn’t possibly have made the decision before Gracie was born. I…well…you know how much I worried I lacked maternal instincts.”
Mara did know, but she’d never doubted Erica’s ability to mother for a second.
“But then I pretty much fell in love the moment she was placed on my chest.” Erica squeezed Mara’s fingers back.
Mara scooted closer to Erica and rested her head on her shoulder. From this close, she could smell Grace. Newborn baby smell—slightly sour milk, baby soap, and love.
Grace’s fine lashes rested on her cheeks as her head tilted up toward her mother. Perfect contentment on the infant’s sleeping face.
“I’m pregnant.” She whispered, partly to avoid waking Grace, but also because this was the first time she’d told anyone outside immediate family.
Erica let out a soft squeal, causing the baby to stir.
“It’s early yet—only nine weeks—so we’re keeping it quiet for now. But Curt’s going to announce he’s stepping down in a few months.”
“Curt is quitting?”
“He feels it’s time. And I am so ready to have him for more than a few hours a week.” Mara reached out and stroked Grace’s soft hair. “Especially if we’re going to have one of these.”
Erica sniffled. “Gah. It must be the new-mom hormones that are making me cry. Everything makes me cry. But I’m really happy for you. That you’ll get more Curt time. That Grace will have a little buddy.” She laughed. “I guess that means basically, I’m happy for me.”
Grace woke up and let out her own cry.
“Now that she’s awake, do you want to hold her?”
“Sure, offer her to me when she’s crying.” But she reached out and lifted the disgruntled bundle from Erica’s chest. She hadn’t held Grace in a week and had been suffering baby Gracie withdrawal.
She climbed to her feet and gently bounced the baby as she paced Erica and Lee’s house. They’d moved in to the old house in Alexandria right before Christmas. They had a yard and room for Lee to move his business to a home office so he could be there for the baby twenty-four seven.
Grace quieted in Mara’s arms. “She’s put on weight.”
“She outgrew most of the newborn clothes before she even wore them.” Erica stood and stretched. “Oh! I can give them to you. Are you and Curt going to stay in the city after he leaves the Justice Department?”
“We haven’t decided. We might move closer to a Metro line for my commute.” She flashed a grin. “I saw a For Sale sign up the street on our way here.”
The back door opened, and Lee and Curt stepped inside. Curt approached Mara and dropped a kiss on Grace’s head before kissing her. He was as eager to be a dad as she was to be a mom, which was unexpected because when they’d first married, they’d agreed to forgo parenting altogether. Her biological clock had slammed into her with a vengeance about two years ago, but they’d agreed to wait until Curt was ready to quit. His job was all-consuming, and they both wanted him to be present for their family.
“The grill is ready for the fish,” Lee announced.
Grace lifted her head at the sound of her father’s voice and smiled.
“She’s only been smiling for a few days,” Erica said. “And Lee always gets the best ones. She already knows how to wrap her daddy around her tiny finger.”
Lee cooed to her. At six-five, he towered over Mara. There was something adorable about watching the giant of a man melt over his baby girl.
“That’s because my Gracie is as smart as her mother,” Lee said in a singsong voice directed at the baby.
Mara passed Grace to Lee and gave Curt a sheepish look. “Remember how we promised not to tell anyone yet? I sort of slipped.”
Lee laughed. “So did Curt. I was playing it cool.” He leaned down and kissed Mara’s cheek. “I’m so happy for you both.”
Mara’s cell phone vibrated. She’d usually ignore her phone, but with Ivy’s situation, that wasn’t possible. She frowned at the work number on the display. With an apology to Erica and Lee, she took the call and stepped into the kitchen. Curt followed.
She answered using the speaker feature. “Mara, this is tech security. Fifteen minutes ago, CAM stopped transmitting.”
Adrenaline shot through her system so hard and fast, it made her nauseated. “Do you know if it was turned off, or destroyed?”
“No clue. One second the signal was solid. The next it was gone. We spent ten minutes rebooting. I’ve made a call to see if we can get real-time satellite images, but by the time they come online, the boat could be long gone.”
“If Ivy did it willingly, she’ll get in touch with me—if she can. I should get off this line.” She met Curt’s gaze.
“Mara and I will be there as soon as we can,” Curt said. “If you need to reach us, call my cell.” He gave the number, then hit the End button.
They gave hurried apologies for bolting before dinner to Erica and Lee. The couple knew about Ivy’s situation and understood. Before Mara had her coat on, her cell phone rang again.
The number on the screen was unfamiliar. Her heart pounded as she answered the call—again on speaker for Curt’s benefit, to hell with the fact that Erica and Lee could hear too.
Hope and fear had Mara in a tight, warring grip. She hoped to hell it was Ivy but was terrified it would be bad news.
Chapter Sixteen
I
vy gripped the phone as if she was afraid Dimitri would take it from her. She was so confused by him and even more confused by her feelings toward him.
She should hate him. Yet she didn’t. Couldn’t.
She wanted, more than anything, to know why he was doing this. To know what made him tick. If she had that piece, maybe she could find a way out for him.
Mara answered, and the call was brief. Curt was with her, and she gave them the rundown of events, why the transmitter had been disabled, and why there were no bodies to bring to Koror for the police to examine.
Curt launched into a series of questions, but Dimitri gave a hand signal indicating she needed to end the call. “Sorry, Curt, but we need to keep the boat moving,” she said, offering the prearranged excuse—which also happened to be true. “We need to put distance between us and the last point where CAM was transmitting, in case they have a boat and are searching for us. We’re going to spend the next thirty-six hours at sea to give the police a chance to catch up with the Syrians, if there are more, before we return to the Rock Islands. I’ll call again when I can.”
Dimitri hit the End button, and it was done. He returned the phone to the storage compartment under his seat and throttled up the engine. They headed out to deep, open sea—but not, Ivy soon learned, for a thirty-six-hour jaunt. Thirty minutes later, they turned, heading toward Palau’s southern edge.
Twenty minutes after that, Dimitri cut the engine, full stop.
“Why are we stopping?” she asked.
“Load CAM and RON in the tender. We’re abandoning Liberty. We’re sending her out to sea.”
“What? We can’t—”
“There’s a lot of ocean Liberty can cover before she runs out of gas. If she’s spotted, she might draw off the Syrians. Plus, Liberty is too big to maneuver in the waters where we need to search for the AUUV,” he said.
“AUUV?”
“Air/Underwater Unmanned Vehicle. The Russians lost their prototype. We’re going to find it.”