Nothing but Trouble

by Tory Richards

  Shock and astonishment caused Sophie’s breath to catch. She’d heard about the abduction. Who hadn’t? For awhile it was all she heard on the news, or read about in the papers. Eunice Holland, the wife of a billionaire ship builder, had been kidnapped the year before. She was released after the ransom was paid, but to date no one knew who was behind it.

  It didn’t take her long to get over her initial shock.

  “You don’t look anything like the man’s description that was circulated in the news.”

  His chuckle was sarcastic and the next thing Sophie knew he was pulling her out of the closet. He tossed some clothes at her. “What, you can’t picture me with bleached blonde hair, a beard, and earrings in my nose and eyebrows?” He glanced past her, and Sophie followed his gaze to the open window. The sun was setting. By the time they left darkness would be on Brent’s side. “Get dressed. And make it quick or I’ll dress you myself.”

  Sophie’s brows shot up at that but she wisely kept quiet. She wanted to ask Brent to turn around while she dressed, but sensed he wasn’t in the mood for chivalry. Under his watchful gaze she forced herself to relax, and slipped into the clothes. “I remember hearing that seventy year-old Eunice had been treated kindly by her kidnappers.” She slipped her feet into the flip-flops he provided.

  He moved forward with a hat in his hands and a smile in his eyes that took her breath away. “She wasn’t a young, spirited troublemaker. Pull your hair up under this.”

  His gaze moved over her as she did as he asked, his mouth twisting with humor when he stood back to observe the finished product. “Even in clothes three sizes too big and your hair hidden beneath a cap, you still manage to stand there looking every bit as unapproachable as you did attired in that black evening gown the other night.”

  Sophie wasn’t about to apologize for her privileged upbringing. One of the first things she learned was that it wasn’t the clothes that made a person. It was how they carried themselves. She followed Brent quietly to the door.

  He paused before opening it, glancing down at her. “I trust you won’t make any scenes?” Without waiting for her reply, Sophie watched him take out the gun he kept tucked in the back of his pants. A cold chill traveled down her spine, as she focused on the black revolver. He reached forward, putting a finger beneath her chin. He forced her to meet his eyes. “Ever seen anyone shot before?”

  It wasn’t the first time Sophie realized just how dangerous Brent was. He held her gaze for a long moment before she guessed he was satisfied with what he saw. She had no choice but to wait behind him when he swung the door open. He checked the hallway to make sure the coast was clear, before tugging her to the stairwell door. Once again Sophie found herself rushing down the stairs. It didn’t take them long to reach the parking garage. She automatically looked for the security cameras as he pulled her along, realizing no one would recognize her. She had to do something to draw attention to them, and reached up with the intention of whipping off her hat.

  “Keep your head down so they can’t see your face!” Brent ordered, heading toward a big truck with darkly tinted windows.

  Sophie did as she was told, her gaze falling on the various sheets of paper she’d flung out the window earlier. A lot of good that had done, if he’d been the only one curious enough to pick one up.

  He opened the door on the driver’s side, glancing around to make sure no one was observing them. “Get in.”

  She was practically pushed into the vehicle. As she scooted to the passenger side his hand was there to keep her from going too close to the door. With a flick of his wrist the engine roared to life. Then they were squealing into traffic, just as a barrage of police cars, with sirens blaring, raced up the circular drive to the front of the building.

  Darn, that had been close! Sophie turned back to look, wishing she had the courage to throw herself from a moving vehicle, but Brent was driving like a maniac. The cruisers came to a screeching halt and doors opened simultaneously, as several policemen exited with haste. They rushed into the lobby of the building.

  “A little too late,” Brent remarked, gaining her attention. “Buckle up.”

  Too tired to argue, Sophie leaned back and did as instructed, watching the scenery go by as they raced down the coastal highway. It was past dinnertime and she was hungry, but more than that, she was scared. Being held prisoner in the apartment two doors down from hers had made her feel safe and comfortable, as ridiculous as that sounded.

  Now they were on the run.

  She cast a glance at Brent out of the corner of her eye. He appeared intent on watching the highway, a muscle in his lean jaw twitching with his thoughts. Her mind raced at where he was taking her.

  There was only one place on earth that frightened her more then being kidnapped, and that was being on the water. Sighing, she laid her head back and closed her eyes.

  What were the odds of that happening?

  Chapter 11

  “Come on, princess, wake up. We’re here.”

  Brent’s voice seemed to come from far away, gradually penetrating Sophie’s unconsciousness until she roused enough to open her eyes. Stretching as much as the confines of the truck allowed she yawned behind her hand, barely sparing him a glance before taking in her surroundings. Wherever they were it was pitch-dark, except for a smattering of twinkling lights directly in front of them. Beyond them appeared to be a wood fence. Eyes narrowing, she tried to determine what the lights were. Her mind burned with a memory that remained just out of reach, yet something told her she’d seen them before.

  “Where are we?” Her stomach picked up the aroma of food, growling loudly, but she ignored it, more interested on what the blinking lights were in the distance. They made her think of fireflies dancing in the midnight sky.

  Sophie glanced around, able to make out the dark shadows of other vehicles parked along either side of them. The faint sound of music and laughter drew her attention to the outline of a large square building off to the right. The lights filtering through the windows appeared very dim.

  “Home,” Brent replied, sliding out of the truck. “Come on.”

  As soon as her feet hit the ground, Sophie knew they were parked on gravel. Then the familiar screams of seagulls and the sound of water registered, turning her blood to ice. She glanced again at the lights, a cold shiver spreading over her when she finally recognized what they were. They were at the marina. Boats anchored further out in the harbor looked like monsters rising from the deep; their lights reflecting off the black, mirrored surface of the water. Didn’t I tell Brent I’m afraid of the water? She couldn’t remember. Fear held her rooted as haunting memories came rushing back, locking the breath in her throat.

  God, how long had it been since that summer? When a family vacation had ended tragically, forever changing her life? The day when a nine-year-old girl witnessed the violent end to an older brother who’d meant the world to her. How and when was a child ever supposed to get over something like that?

  She started to pull back when the horror of that day rushed to the surface, threatening to overwhelm her. It was the one thing in her life she’d never been able to come to terms with: surviving when Paul hadn’t. The shrinks hadn’t been able to help her and finally her father had stopped forcing her to go to them. She hadn’t curled up inside herself as they’d predicted, but she’d never gotten over the incident either.

  “No…” Brent’s head snapped her way, his gaze narrowing on her. The little bit of light from the restaurant allowed her to see his hardened expression. “I can’t go out there. The water…” Biting her lip, Sophie looked away, unable to finish.

  “You live on the beach,” Brent pointed out in a suspicious tone. “What are you trying to pull now?”

  “It’s a love-hate relationship,” Sophie clarified, staring at the water. It looked like a black demon, getting ready to rear up its ugly head and swallow her whole. “I like living near the ocean, but I never go into the water.”

  “Yo
u expect me to believe that bull?” His tone bordered with disbelief. He was obviously convinced it was all an act. “You’ll have to come up with a better one than that.”

  Sophie shook her head negatively. “It’s the truth, Brent. I’ll do anything you want, go with you anywhere you want. But please don’t make me go out there.”

  “You sound sincere, but what you’re telling me doesn’t make any sense.” Sophie followed his gaze, as he looked at something at the very end of the dock. With a sinking feeling she sensed it was his boat. There was grit in his voice when he said, “Sorry princess, you’ll just have to get over it, whatever it is. You’ll like The Lazy Jay. And if it helps any, we’re not leaving the dockside.”

  For a moment they stood there in the darkness, facing each other like adversaries, neither one backing down. Instincts told Sophie that Brent wasn’t going to change his mind, and she was too stubborn to try and appeal to his softer side, if he had one. After all, he was the kidnapper and he called the shots. She steeled herself as he slowly made his way around the truck toward her.

  “You’re not going to sway me from my one and only plan, so save that frightened, round-eyed little girl act,” he said firmly. He grasped Sophie by the shoulders; she gasped, his closeness causing the oddest sensation in the lower region of her belly. Before she could tell her mind to ignore it he turned her until she faced the dock. “All you have to do is put one foot before the other.”

  “No!” Sophie held back, straining against his hands. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest as panic set in.

  “Yes!” he said sharply in her ear, uncaring of her fears. He gave her a little shove.

  Sophie spun around. “You’re a bas—” She cut herself off when it dawned on her she’d been about to go too far. No telling what a man like him would do if he was insulted. He surprised her by chuckling. She wasn’t fooled by his humor. Sophie bet if she made one wrong move he’d spring into action. She straightened her back and squared her shoulders, refusing to budge. There’s no way I’m going willingly. He’ll have to carry me.

  “Well?” His sharp tone caused her to jump a little. The unexpected glare of a car’s headlight approaching the boat landing drew their attention. Brent put his hands on her, turned her, and gave her another little nudge. “Stop stalling and move it,” he warned in a low growl. It was obvious he didn’t want anyone to see them.

  The dock appeared to jet out into the shimmering, black water for miles but Sophie knew it was just an illusion; a mean trick playing upon the fear bottled up inside her. She forced herself to breathe in slowly and deeply, working up the nerve to take the first step. Hating that Brent was witnessing a weakness she shared with no one. As her foot touched down on the first wood plank, feelings of terror every bit as sharp and vivid as it had been twenty years before cloaked her. Overwhelming anxiety threatened to weigh her down like a heavy blanket, stealing the breath from her body. Her very life if she let it.

  Her heart began to pound like a drumbeat in her chest, so loud it blocked out any other noise. Time had done little in healing the pain or remembrance of that summer day. Of losing Paul in a frenzied shark attack that had gone on for what felt like forever. Tears welled in her eyes until she couldn’t see. She bit down on her lip until the taste of blood filled her mouth. She was frustrated she couldn’t control this one tiny memory of her life and keep it from crippling her.

  She took one more step and then another, barely breathing, her unfocused vision glued to the wooden planks at her feet, trying to ignore the row of boats docked on either side of her. Once in a while she could see the glimmer of water through the split in the wood, catching her breath.

  Brent finally lost patience at her snail’s pace. “Come on, princess, at this rate it will be daylight by the time we reach my boat.”

  Holding back a sharp retort about his insensitivity she glanced up long enough to take in the boat nearest to her, wondering which one belonged to him. That one small move turned out to be her downfall because either the wharf was swaying slightly with the current or she was dizzy. Releasing a small gasp, she let her hands automatically seek the wood rail for support but it was already too late. She felt herself falling, as blackness quickly engulfed her.

  Chapter 12

  The bed was moving; Sophie was sure of it. She could feel it swaying gently beneath her but was unable to comprehend the reason why. As her eyelids gradually lifted she found herself looking at her own reflection. A small sound of shock escaped her and her eyes widened. She was definitely lying on a bed; stripped down to the white shirt that barely covered her decently; her hair spread out around her as though she was posing for a picture for one of those girlie magazines. Reaching for the hem, she made a halfhearted effort to pull the material further down her naked thighs.

  There was a lightweight blanket at her feet she must have kicked aside while she slept. The dimness in the room was provided by a wall lamp by the door not giving off any more light than a candle would. Somewhere close by the sound of a ticking clock broke the otherwise eerie silence. Her brows furrowed with confusion until she became alert enough to realize what she was looking into. It was a mirror on the ceiling directly above the bed. She would have never pegged Brent for that kind of man. Her feelings flip-flopped between shock and worry, and something else. Something wicked and delicious.

  Instincts drew her gaze to a corner in the room; the outline of a shadow revealing she wasn’t alone. She found Brent relaxing in a chair, watching her intently. He leaned forward until his features were in the light, and the unexpected concern in his eyes caused butterflies to flutter wildly in her stomach. Am I just imagining the tenderness reflected in his dark gaze? He’d abducted her yet Sophie was beginning to have strong doubts about his motives. He didn’t act the way she thought a kidnapper should. Though she had nothing to compare it to, intuition told her that most of the time she had nothing to fear from him. Not as a kidnaper anyway. As a man, he took her breath away.

  “You get your kicks watching women sleep?” He didn’t have to respond, the devilish look in his eyes did his talking for him. “And I see you’re into, ah, kinky sex.” She shouldn’t have brought attention to the mirror on the ceiling but it was too late now, they both glanced up at their reflections.

  Brent laughed, sincerely amused. “You have a lot to learn. A mirror on the ceiling doesn’t imply kinky sex. Maybe just two people who enjoy watching each other making love.”

  His words conjured up a visual Sophie grew uncomfortably warm with. An image of the two of them, naked, entwined in sheets and making love beneath the mirror. Instant heat swept across her cheeks, which caused his smile to grow into a wolf’s grin. It was as if he knew what she was thinking. Or, maybe he was thinking it himself. Sophie knew when a man wanted her, and he’d had that look in his eyes from the moment they’d met at the museum. Jonathan had that look too, only she’d never felt an ounce of desire for him.

  “I just purchased the boat six months ago and haven’t had a chance to spend much time on it yet. The mirror is compliments of the last owner, some fifty-six year old banker going through a midlife crisis. It’s obvious by his chosen red light district décor that he was a wannabe playboy.” His stare, gleaming with amusement, held hers captive. “At least he was smart enough to keep his bad taste in the bedroom.”

  Sophie’s gaze moved about the room, taking in the mirrors and suggestive artwork, and the lighting fixtures designed to keep the atmosphere intimate.

  “He even left a generous supply of condoms in the nightstand drawer next to the bed.”

  “Why did you buy the boat?” Sophie asked, deciding it was a much safer topic than the subject of condoms.

  He shrugged. “My intentions were to take a year off and sail around the world, but things kept getting in the way.”

  “Kidnapping…you mean?”

  His teeth flashed brightly in the gloom. “You know, I haven’t even slept in this bed…yet.”

  Sophie felt a p
leasant tingle run down the length of her spine when he ran his gaze over her. He had a lot of nerve, standing there and intimidating her with his sheer presence and that speculative gleam in his eyes. “You took my clothes off.” It took a conscious effort not to look at her appearance in the mirror again.

  “Not all of them,” he pointed out, his gaze dropping down the front of her shirt in a lazy sweep.

  Sophie reached up to find it was open. She clutched the ends together over her breasts, unable to stop the flow of arousal in her belly. Then his interest fell to her naked thighs. She glanced away from him, making the mistake of glancing up at the ceiling, which only served to fire her blood.

  “How did I get here?” She hated the fact that her voice trembled, revealing her emotions.

  “I carried you.”

  Sophie wondered if he had trouble, knowing with her height she wasn’t a lightweight. “I guess I should thank you for not letting me fall into the ocean and drowning.”

  “It crossed my mind,” he remarked in a tone she couldn’t identify. He studied her thoughtfully for a moment, the interest reflected in his gaze alarming her with its intensity. “Why are you so afraid of the water?”

  That was the last thing she expected him to ask. Why should he care? She lowered her gaze from his, clamping down on her bottom lip. Her eyes swelled with tears. “I can’t talk about it,” she whispered finally, a tear rolling down her cheek.

  “Talking about it might help,” Brent surprised her by saying kindly. Sophie shook her head vigorously, praying he would let it drop. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he asked, “Would you like something to drink?”

  She managed a choking laugh. “I’m hungry.” Her teary gaze swung up to his, the double meaning behind her innocent comment obvious to them both. Thank God her growling stomach backed up what she really meant.