Winter's Fire

by Christie Adams

  Only Logan’s lightning reflexes prevented the slap from landing across Lucy’s face. He tried not to show any reaction to the sharp tug of pain in his side, where Lucy had sewn him up. “Enough! Fighting amongst ourselves isn’t going to get us out of here. Diana, I need you to concentrate on staying as calm and as quiet as possible—can you do that for me?”

  The annoying pout appeared again. “I’ll try.”

  The woman irritated him in so many ways—it was just a pity none of them could be used to their advantage.

  “Do you have any ideas, Logan?”

  Lucy, on the other hand… for a civilian, he could only admire the level of focus she displayed. No, not a civilian—a trainee. Diana was a civilian, and to think of Lucy in the same terms was nothing less than an insult.

  “Bringing the auction forward might do us a favour—they’ll be busy preparing for it, and not paying so much attention to us.” At least, he hoped that would be the case.

  “How do we get out of this room?”

  “Leave that to me. When we make our move, we need to do it when they’re least likely to be interested in us.”

  Lucy looked thoughtful. “After they feed us. They usually leave us for hours then.”

  “So what? The door has bolts across it, in case you’d forgotten, and I can’t see them conveniently forgetting to use them!”

  Logan was fast running out of patience. “I know, Diana. We’ll work something out.”

  “What happens when we do? We’re on our own here.”

  Again he marvelled at the difference between the two women. Lucy’s calm question was worlds away from his former girlfriend’s near-hysteria. “We may be on our own, but it doesn’t mean no one’s looking for us. Sir Guy will do whatever it takes to get help to us. We’re already days overdue—he’ll have raised the alarm as soon as we failed to report, and whatever forces are deployed in this area, British or ally, they’ll be looking for us. But we can’t afford to sit here and wait for them to find us. We have to help ourselves, and that means getting out of this place.”

  “And how do you propose to do that?”

  Logan could barely hold onto the last of his patience. “Diana—”

  “That’s it!”

  He turned back to Lucy, who looked as if she’d just had a divine revelation. “What’s it?”

  “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before.”

  “It’s not your job.” Because it was his job, and he’d failed her… both of them.

  “That’s where you’re wrong—it’s my job, too, now.”

  Her voice was cool, calm, and deadly with intent—and Logan fully understood the message woven between the words, even if he didn’t like what it meant. In spite of everything that had happened to her, the pain and humiliation, Lucy was still hell-bent on pursuing this lousy job as a career.

  “So what’s your plan?”

  ~~*~~

  The blows rained thick and fast. Jaw, stomach, jaw again. Fists flew, the heel of a hand landed with bone-crunching power, shattering a nose. With a burst of adrenaline protecting him from feeling the worst of his own injuries, Logan kicked out, his foot landing squarely in his opponent's chest. The impact propelled the scumbag backwards, sending him crashing into the wall where he landed in a broken, crumpled heap, ready for Logan to ensure he never got up again.

  He used the back of his hand to wipe away the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. That last punch he’d taken had been a beauty, but just what he’d needed to find the extra strength to send his adversary reeling, prior to despatching him permanently.

  Lucy’s strategy had worked perfectly—not that he’d liked playing the part of the bait in the trap, but it was the only way the plan made sense, given that he was the one who looked like walking roadkill. He didn’t know how she’d done it, but Lucy had even managed to co-opt Diana into assisting her, by having her hammer on the door and plead for help while Lucy lay in wait behind it.

  His woman was truly amazing. There’d been only one guard on duty. Lucy had jumped him as soon as he set foot in the cell, clinging to him like a monkey and giving Logan a chance to wade into the fight. A couple of lucky blows to existing injuries had taken his breath away, but there was no question as to who was going to come out on top. Their lives and the lives of the other captives depended on it.

  Now all they had to do was get down to the dock, steal a boat, and get the hell away. A careless comment overheard had given them an idea of the route to the jetty, and once they made it there he could breathe easy again, knowing that the beatings he’d taken had paid off.

  “You okay?”

  Lucy, of course, crouching between him and Diana. She’d been ready to protect the other woman with her life. There was so much Logan wanted to say to her, but with the gulf between them widening so much in the last forty-eight hours, it needed care and time that they just didn’t have. He nodded. “We need to get moving. The bastard could be missed at any moment, then we’ll really be in trouble.”

  “And we’re not already?”

  She was smiling—actually smiling. Maybe she was just crazy enough to fit in the unit as a field officer after all. Logan could recognise an attempt to cover up fear when he saw it. Even so, he played along with a shrug of his shoulder and a half-smile, as if it were no big deal. “Let’s go.”

  They followed the path—a shortcut to the dock, negotiable only on foot—through the undergrowth. Logan led the way, keeping a look out for any unfriendly wildlife—along with signs of even more unfriendly humans—with Lucy bringing up the rear. He wasn’t so foolish as to believe they’d find their way unhindered—at any moment, the guard he’d killed could be missed or found and then the hunt would be on.

  And their captors would be playing for keeps. Lucy and Diana had a price on their heads, one the bad guys were committed to collecting. Since he’d just about outlived his usefulness, they’d have no qualms about terminating him.

  With the auction imminent, everyone’s attention was concentrated on getting ready for the arrival of the wealthy bidders. Logan wanted to think they too would be brought down with the perpetrators of the trafficking operation, but chances were, their money—and they would have a hell of a lot of it—would buy them a way out of paying for their crime.

  The end of the track joined what passed for a road at the top of a series of almost hairpin bends leading down to the dock. Logan signalled to Lucy and Diana to remain hidden in the undergrowth while he made sure the coast was clear. With no vehicles around and no sign of anyone down on the dock, the chances of discovery were slim. Even better, a small cabin cruiser was moored at the end of the low jetty. With no visible means of refuelling, he could only hope there was enough gas in the tank to get them to safety.

  “Come on, it’s not much further.”

  “I hope not, we’ve been walking for miles.”

  The grumble came from Diana, of course, who made a great production out of clambering to her feet, while Lucy simply straightened up from the crouch she’d adopted to wait for the all-clear. God, she was beautiful. He didn’t see the torn clothes, the smudges of dirt, the cuts and bruises—just the brave, brilliant, gorgeous woman he loved.

  “There’s no one around, but keep to the side and stay low. If you hear an engine, take cover and stay there until I tell you otherwise. Is that clear? Diana?”

  Sullen and insolent, she rolled her eyes at him. How he hadn’t wrung her neck Logan didn’t know, but the sooner he got her back to her family, the better. He needed to be with Lucy so he could come clean about his past, set things right with her—and God willing, plan a future with her.

  They made it to the boat without incident. Logan helped Diana aboard, hovered while Lucy followed her, then cast off fore and aft, and jumped on board before the vessel could drift too far. The engine started at the first attempt, so he lost no time in setting a course for the open sea.

  “Are we safe now?”

  “Not yet. This
operation’s been going on for years and never made the headlines—local law enforcement’s probably being given a cut of the proceeds to keep quiet.”

  “That means we can’t trust anyone at the resort or on the island, right?” Lucy looked to him for confirmation.

  “Right. Our best chance is to get a few miles out and send a distress signal.”

  When they were far enough out, Logan picked up the radio handset, selected the emergency channel, and pushed the button to transmit their GPS coordinates. He glanced at Lucy. No matter what had gone wrong between them, she still had faith in him. For her sake, if nothing else, they had to get out of this alive.

  “Mayday, mayday, mayday. This is Blue Pagoda, Blue Pagoda, Blue Pagoda. Mayday.”

  Chapter 20

  “Jesus, what the hell have you been up to now?”

  Even as Sam wrapped the survival blanket around her and gathered her to him in a ferocious bear hug, Lucy still couldn’t believe the Royal Navy destroyer that had plucked them to safety was her brother’s ship. She should have had more faith in Logan’s assurances that they hadn’t been abandoned.

  “Sam, please—”

  “I’m taking you down to the sick bay.”

  “I’m okay—”

  “You look like you’ve gone ten rounds with a heavyweight champion. You need to be checked out—the medical officer’s waiting for all of you.”

  So he was in that kind of mood, the one that wouldn’t take no for an answer. The bad news for him was that she’d inherited the stubborn gene too. “I told you, I’m okay. You need to take a look at Logan. He has a knife wound that needs attention—”

  “It can wait. Chief Winter, I’m sorry, but I need to speak to the captain urgently.”

  Lucy looked around at Logan, and immediately wished she hadn’t. It wasn’t just that he was standing behind Diana, with his hands on her shoulders—he looked like he could barely stand upright and his face held a febrile flush.

  She glanced back at her sibling, and caught the look of understanding flash between the two men. She’d seen that look of silent communication before between her brothers when they were talking about their work, usually just before they clammed up to prevent her listening in.

  This time, Lucy already knew what it was about. Their position hadn’t been all Logan had reported on the distress call. He’d given a brief summary of what was going on at the resort, and been told the ship’s commanding officer would want to talk to him.

  “I know, Mr. Simmonds. AB Moore’s here to escort you to the bridge.” Sam nodded to Logan’s right. “When you’re finished with the captain, Moore’ll bring you to join us in sick bay. Just try to make it as quick as you can. Lucy’s right, you don’t look too good.”

  “I will. Thanks, Chief.”

  By the time they reached the medical facility, Lucy was heartily glad she didn’t suffer from claustrophobia. The ship was a confusing maze of narrow, stifling passageways, although Sam had no problem navigating their way to their destination. Once they arrived, Diana steamed straight to the head of the queue for the medical officer’s attention. The door to the consulting room closed behind her, at which point Lucy let out a massive sigh of relief.

  “Sis, sit down before you fall down. Do you want something to eat?”

  Lucy leaned against her brother. The warmth of his arm around her shoulders almost made her want to cry. She’d been running on an adrenaline high for days, and now she was ready to crash. “I don’t know. I think I’ll be sick if I have anything.”

  “How about some soup? I can call the galley and have some brought up for you.”

  Lucy shook her head. “I think what I need most is a shower and some sleep.” She lifted her arm and gave a delicate sniff. “I stink.”

  “I didn’t like to say, but now you mention it…”

  Brotherly teasing had never been so welcome. She gave Sam a feeble punch in the ribs. “Shut up. Just give me a shower, a bunk and some clean clothes, and I’ll be fine.”

  “I know you will, Luce. I know.”

  It may have been her imagination, but Lucy swore she could hear a new level of respect in her brother’s voice. At some point, she’d have to tell him everything—but not right now, because at this precise moment, she couldn’t even begin to think of the words to do it.

  “Sam, I don’t know how you came to be here, right where we needed you, when we needed you—”

  “Orders. We were diverted to this area a few days ago, and instructed to monitor all frequencies for any unusual transmissions. When your mayday came in loud and clear and Simmonds identified you all… Let’s just say, when word got to me, I gained a few more grey hairs. So what’s going on between you and Simmonds?”

  Caught unawares by the sudden change of subject, Lucy tensed. “Nothing.”

  “He hasn’t hurt you, has he?”

  “Of course not.” At least not in any way she could tell Sam.

  “But there is something between you two?”

  “Whatever gives you that idea?”

  “I saw the way he was looking at you.”

  Sam had always been the most romantic of her siblings. “Whatever you think you saw, you’re wrong.”

  “He couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

  “He was standing behind me talking to you, and you were directly in front of me—he couldn’t really look anywhere else!”

  The brotherly kiss to the top of her head almost had her blubbing like a kid again. When her other brothers had teased her mercilessly—their rather unique way of showing how much they loved her—Sam had been the one she’d gone to when it had got too much. He’d always been a nurturer, so it was little surprise he’d risen through the ranks in his chosen role of medical assistant.

  “Okay, I won’t push it, but I think you have some unfinished business there.”

  Did she? Lucy doubted it, but she was just too tired to start picking apart Logan’s words and actions, and examining them for any meaning other than the obvious. He was back with Diana and whatever had been starting to develop between her and him had been a lie, tossed aside like yesterday’s trash.

  And yet, even though she was exhausted, even though she knew it was pointless, there was still a part of her that wanted to fight for the man, to convince him that she’d be better for him than Diana.

  Three words stopped her. Three words her brothers had instilled in her from an early age, a lesson taught both in theory and in practice.

  Pick. Your. Battles.

  If Logan truly wanted her, she wouldn’t need to think in terms of battles. When it came to women, in her experience men made their choices pretty much on sight. Logan had made his choice. Even though she felt about him the way she did, she wasn't going to relegate him to the status of a bone to be scrapped over by two snarling bitches. She couldn’t fight for what was already lost, but she could win the battle to walk away with her dignity intact and her head held high.

  Besides, there was the whole matter of the mission and the role she’d played in it. Sir Guy had to see her as more than just his PA now. That was one battle she’d picked and won, even though, in the winning, she’d lost the most precious prize of all.

  ~~*~~

  As the ship sailed for Florida, Lucy kept a low profile. Sam ran interference for her so she didn’t have to see Logan and Diana together. When the warship docked in Miami, a representative from the office of the British Consulate General was waiting for them, with fresh clothing, emergency travel documents and hotel reservations. In due course, they’d be put on flights back to London.

  On arriving in her room at the hotel, Lucy put out the “Do Not Disturb” sign before lying down on the bed, too tired and too sick at heart to take much notice of her luxurious surroundings. All she wanted to do was sleep and forget, and then go home—not to her little apartment in London, but to the farm and her family.

  Sam had been her rock on the way to Florida, from where he was due to fly home once his duties during the g
oodwill visit were complete. It was unlikely she’d be done with the authorities in time to fly with him.

  Such a mess. Unable to find any peace, Lucy sought solace from the view from her window. The lights of Miami by night were a kaleidoscope of colour. Out there, people would be having a great time, completely oblivious to the kind of horror that had taken over her life and Logan’s and Diana’s.

  A horror that was now over—not just for them, but for the other women, too. The details were few, but as a result of an existing investigation by US authorities, a task force had mounted an assault on the island, freed the women and arrested the perpetrators. Sasha’s friend had been rescued, but sadly, there was no trace of her Dom.

  Lucy sighed. Her resistance was low and all she could think of was how much she needed Logan to wrap his arms around her and tell her everything would be okay. Except that Logan didn’t exist. He was an illusion, a disguise to conceal the real Logan until he’d been able to resume his relationship with Diana.

  Bile burned her throat. Logan and Diana together. Even as a memory, the contrast between his darkness and her glacial blonde beauty struck like a dagger. All cleaned up, they’d made a striking couple. They were probably together right now sharing a room somewhere in the hotel… sharing a bed.

  She had to stop tormenting herself like that or she’d be eaten up inside. She couldn’t allow the way this had turned out to make her bitter and cynical, either. Right now it hurt like hell, but logically, Lucy knew it wouldn’t always be this way. Logically, there’d be a time when she could think of Logan without this overwhelming sense of loss, if she thought about him at all by then.

  Before anything, though, she had to get through tomorrow, when she was going to make a statement to the US authorities. The representative from the Consulate General had told her she wouldn’t have to do it alone, but it was still a daunting prospect.

  All she wanted was to go home.

  ~~*~~

  Once their statements had been taken, a chauffeur-driven limousine took them to the airport. During the journey, Lucy kept herself to herself. Not that she had much choice even if she hadn’t wanted to with Diana claiming her rightful place—as she saw it—as the centre of attention.