The Donzi slammed over the whitecaps with such force it cracked Jazz’s teeth against each other. The duct tape Miles had used to bind her wrists cut into her flesh, and her hands tingled with the lack of circulation.
Still, she was alive, which might be more than she could say for Denise. And Jessica? Oh, God, she hoped Alex had found her.
Yoder hadn’t bothered to tie her down or keep her quiet. Her loudest scream would never be heard over the deafening engines, and if she stood, she’d fly out of the boat from the wind and speed. And with her hands tied, she’d drown…or he’d be sure the engine props sliced her to ribbons. Tucked low in the captain’s chair next to him, she turned to see how far they’d gone.
She guessed that they were a mile from land, headed southwest, probably into the Gulf of Mexico. The water was murky from the storm, but it was shallow and Yoder seemed to navigate skillfully around the reefs.
Who was this man?
A man who clearly relished control. A man Jessica had trusted with her dreams and ambition. A man so evil, he double-crossed and murdered the man who’d planned to blackmail Jessica.
The man who had “changed” her sister’s life, and who had a heart of gold.
So much for Jessica’s flawless character judgment.
Her heart squeezed so hard, she nearly cried. She could die in the next few minutes. She’d never see Jessica again, or her parents, or Alex.
She blinked back the tears. This was no time to cry; she needed a plan. She had to disarm him—literally and figuratively. She scanned the giant bowsprit, pointed halfway to the sky as the mighty engines dragged the back end of the boat deep into the water. Behind her there were two more seats. The door to a below-deck salon was right in front of her, closed.
Could she drive this thing? Possibly. She could certainly work the radio that occasionally crackled next to him.
Without warning, he slowed their speed to almost nothing. She turned to see the tiny dot that was Sunset Key, and Key West just beyond it. Two massive cruise ships blocked the storm-darkened channel between the two islands.
In the opposite direction, there wasn’t another boat from there to the horizon.
Alex would never look for her out here. The sickening finality of that thought spurred her. She had to save herself, but how?
“Where is your sister?” he demanded.
“I have no idea,” she said honestly. “She escaped from the house.”
He swore. Whatever his plan was, it was unraveling fast. Which didn’t make her feel at all safe.
“I’ll work with you,” she said in a tone she hoped sounded conspiratorial. “I’ll cover for you. Jessica can get the job she wants, and I’ll just go along with it.”
He gave her a skeptical look.
“I’d do anything for her success,” she added.
For a heartbeat, she thought he fell for it. Then the sound of a distant motor made him turn and glance over his shoulder. She didn’t take a second to think. Diving out of her chair, she slammed her duct-taped wrists on the gun to send it flying.
“Shit!” He tried to lunge after the Glock, but she threw her body on the hard fiberglass bottom, her breasts slamming against the gun. He stomped on her back, shoving the air out of her lungs.
Jazz squeezed her eyes at the pain, and tried to slide her hands under her. If she could just get her fingers around that pistol—
He slammed his foot into the side of her head, sending fireworks from one ear to the other. Grabbing her shoulder, he tried to pull her up, which freed her hands enough to jerk them down to where the gun poked her breastbone.
Her fingers closed around the rough finish of the grip. With a grunt, Yoder managed to flip her over and grab her hair, yanking her head backward. She had no idea where the gun was aimed and couldn’t see. He’d have the gun out of her hand in a second. With one powerful thrust, she threw her arms up and let go.
She heard the splash as the Glock hit the water.
“You stupid bitch,” he growled, kicking her in the side.
She sucked in a painful breath as she curled up, tensing her legs to leap up and attack. She’d die trying to kill him. She’d die before she gave in.
He suddenly froze as the sound of the motor amplified. She couldn’t see anything but the man above her and the gray sky. But she could hear that motor, and it was getting closer.
Something whizzed overhead and Yoder fell on top of her. “Son of a bitch,” he cursed.
He crawled off her to the captain’s chair, rising to his knees, but keeping his head low. Something hit the side of the boat with a deafening thwack.
A gunshot. Jazz inched up to her elbows and tried to turn over on her stomach to see behind them. As she did, the engines of the Donzi thundered to life. Yoder pulled himself up to the driver’s seat and thrust the throttle forward. The massive bow rose out of the water like the mouth of a great white shark, throwing Jazz straight back, thumping her head against the bottom of the leather seat. She managed to grasp an armrest and heave herself up.
And then she saw Alex. Just fifty feet behind them, bouncing wildly in the curl of the Donzi’s wake, his hair snapped straight back in the wind, his face dark with determination. One hand was on the throttle, the other aimed his Glock at Miles Yoder’s head. Relief and euphoria replaced the terror that had gripped her.
He jerked the gun up and down, trying to tell her to get out of the line of fire. Falling to her knees, she obeyed. But how could he catch them in that little Whaler? This thing would be out of firing range in less than a minute.
Pivoting on her knees, she crawled to where Yoder stood, holding the throttle with one hand and the wheel with the other. He faced forward, but he’d turn to see how much distance he’d made any second.
Raising herself to her feet, she jumped behind him and slid her bound arms over his head in a lightning fast move, seizing his neck in a chokehold. As he jerked around, she moved with him and saw the fury on Alex’s face.
No wonder he was pissed. The throttle remained at the highest speed, and she was attached to Yoder’s back. She had to slow the boat down.
As Yoder spun around like a dog chasing its tail, she lifted her right leg, hooked her heel over the horizontal bar of the throttle, and pulled it toward her with every ounce of strength she had. The speed plummeted and their bodies flew forward, whacking the door to the cabin with so much force, she thought they broke it. The Whaler roared closer.
Yoder hollered and tried to duck out of her arms, but she smashed her duct-taped wrists into his nose, then sank her teeth into the cartilage of his ear. He howled and twisted again, crushing her against the windshield.
Alex pulled up next to them, his gun aimed at Yoder. “Get off him, Jazz,” he screamed over the engine noise.
Before she could move, Yoder reached up and encircled her head in his arm, yanking her neck until she heard a crack. Fiery pain shot down her spine.
“Drop the gun or I’ll break her neck.”
Oh God, he could paralyze or kill her with a single twist of his elbow. Her heart hammered wildly as he tightened his grip. Shoot him, Alex. Shoot him.
Alex’s face was distorted with rage and the agony of a difficult choice; her face and body were just centimeters from his target.
Take the risk, Alex.
Yoder pulled again and sparks of agony almost blinded her. She couldn’t breath. Couldn’t think.
Shoot him, she mouthed, and gave Alex a pleading look. Then she closed her eyes and let his image fill her mind. Would that be the last thing she ever saw?
The bullet whizzed so close, she felt the air move just as she heard the slug crack Yoder’s skull. Warm blood splashed on her face. His grip relaxed. His arm dropped. He stumbled backward and fell on top of her, slamming her against the fiberglass.
In a matter of seconds, Alex was on board, releasing her from Yoder, biting away the duct tape, wiping her face with his shirt. He pushed Yoder’s body to the other side of the boat and scooped Jazz into a tight embrace.
His body was trembling as much as hers, his breathing ragged, his heart throbbing. “Querida,” he whispered. “Pensé que te perdí.”
“Did you get Jessica?” she asked.
He nodded, just as his lips came down on hers for a shaky, desperate kiss.
She pulled out away and looked at him. “What took so long?”
“I had to get her into a helicopter, out at sea—”
“To shoot,” she clarified with a half punch on his arm. “I thought you’d never pull the trigger.”
“I was aiming.” He tunneled his fingers into the nape of her neck and drew her face closer. “I generally catch bullets, not fire them at…” He kissed her hard.
“Your principal,” she spoke into the kiss.
He pulled away to look at her. “Yeah, that, too.” He kissed her again and and held her tighter. “Pensé que te perdí.”
She wiped the wet hair from his face, lingering over his cheeks and lips. “What does that mean?”
Inside his shirt pocket, his phone hummed, just as the first thumping hum of a helicopter forced both of them to look at the sky.
He pulled the phone out and flipped it open, holding her gaze with a sexy, smoky look of relief in his eyes. “You’re late, Roper.” Then he flipped the phone shut.
He kissed her forehead, her hair, and her eyes. “I thought I lost you.”
She searched his his strong, gorgeous, achingly handsome face. A mirror of the heart and soul inside. A protective, passionate lover who made her stronger, not weaker.
Never, she whispered in her head. You’ll never lose me.
And the realization that she loved him hit her with the force of a bullet to her heart.
The story that the two men told her began to take shape in bits and pieces in Jessica’s mind. Sort of like her memory, which felt like a jigsaw puzzle with completed borders, but gaping holes in the middle.
“Do you need a little more?” Dan, the one with mint-green eyes and a kissable mouth, gently touched the IV pouring saline into her dehydrated system. “Something for the pain?”
She managed to shake her head, but it hurt like hell. “No drugs of any kind.”
“Let her sleep,” Max ordered, his serious tone undermined by his inability to take his eyes off her, as if he couldn’t believe she was real or something.
“I don’t want to sleep,” she insisted, swallowing against the horrific pain in her throat where they had inserted a tube to pump her stomach. “I want to see Jazz.”
“She’s on her way,” Dan assured her, placing a strong hand on her shoulder to tuck the loose-fitting hospital gown into place. “Do you remember what Max told you?”
Yes, blessedly. Jazz, who could do things Jessica couldn’t even dream of, was alive and well and, following a debriefing with police, would be on her way here. Jessica’s lips lifted in a smile of pride. And Denise, the actress who had helped her, was alive. In surgery, but still alive.
They’d also told her a little bit about Kimball, and Miles, much of it conjecture on their part, she decided. She was unable to believe that kind, intelligent Miles would actually shoot someone. Kimball Parrish? Absolutely. But Miles…
The door burst open and the room was suddenly full of that distinctive energy that emanated from Jazz. Jessica nearly leaped off the bed with glee, but Jazz closed the space between them in a heartbeat, engulfing Jessica in a gentle, precious embrace.
Jessica just wanted to inhale her sister, to press her cheek against the one that matched her own, and hold the strongest body and bravest heart she’d ever known.
As Jazz finally released her, Jessica’s gaze dropped to the ugly scrape along the side of her sister’s face. “What happened?”
Jazz shrugged. “That asshole Yoder kicked me.”
Jessica coughed a little laugh at the typical Jazz response. “Are you okay?”
“Me?” She gave Jessica a cocky grin. “Please. I have my own bodyguard. Now how the hell did you get out of that house? It’s killing me to figure it out.”
Jessica searched the wonderfully familiar face. Funny how she could see flaws in her own, but could never find any in Jazz. “I pretended to be you.”
“What? And Parrish believed you?”
Jessica shook her head, and smiled. “No. I pretended to be you in my head. A ‘what would Jazz do?’ sort of thing.”
Jazz gave her a dubious look. “You know, those drugs, J—they can do things to your brain.”
“My brain is fine.” She took Jazz’s hands and closed them between hers. “I thought I was going to die.” Her voice cracked, and Jazz closed her eyes for a second. “And when I woke up, you were the only memory I had. You.” She squeezed Jazz’s hands tighter. “And you’re the strongest person I know.”
Jazz let out a breath of disbelief.
“Seriously, Jazz. You would never let yourself be a victim; you would have clawed and scratched and fought your way out of that mess.”
“That’s probably true,” Jazz admitted. “But only because I never had your ability to charm my way through life.”
Jessica rolled her eyes. “A lot of good that did me. So this time I did exactly what you would have done.”
A smile tilted Jazz’s lips. “This I gotta hear.”
“I walked out the front door.” She grinned at the look she got in return. “Honestly. No one was around. So I just grabbed a sheet and left.”
“Good plan,” Jazz said with a note of respect. “As plans go, that’s an A-plus.”
“A C, if you hadn’t sent in a team of angels to whisk me off to safety.”
Jazz leaned closer for another hug. “I can’t take credit for that. I’ve got a guardian angel of my own.”
Over her shoulder, Jessica saw the tall, long-haired man who’d rescued her. She remembered him immediately. “You must be Alex.”
Jazz’s whole body tightened in Jessica’s arms at the mention of his name. She sat up straighter, and turned to look at him. When she faced Jessica again, her eyes were shining.
“He’s your bodyguard,” Jazz said. “But he’s done a great job of protecting me instead.”
“Thank you, Alex,” Jessica said, taking in his dark good looks and his potent aura. “You must be the lead guardian angel.”
Max snorted, as Dan’s cell phone played “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.” The three men exchanged a silent but meaningful look. “Juicy Miss Lucy on the line,” Dan said.
Alex scowled fiercely. “She better have a helluva good explanation.”
“Want to ask her?” Dan held the phone toward Alex as it played the melody again.
“No thanks.” Alex moved closer to the bed. “Let Roper do the honors.”
The other two men left the room as Dan answered his phone.
Alex’s olive-black gaze glimmered over Jazz, then he spoke to Jessica. “Jazz is your real guardian angel, believe me. She’s one dedicated sister.”
Jessica’s eyes filled as she nodded. “I’ve always known that.”
“Nothing could stop her,” he added, his smile full of pride and admiration. “I’ve never seen anyone so single-minded or determined.”
“Stop,” Jazz said, waving a dismissive hand. “We were a team.”
Alex’s grin disappeared and his expression softened. “Yeah,” he said softly. “A good one.”
Jessica looked from one to the other, and realization flashed through her. Stop the presses…Jazz is in love.
As soon as Dan and Max marched back in, Alex knew what they were going to say.
“We’re leaving, Romero,” Max told him, confirming his suspicions. “Lucy’s taken Valerie Yoder back to New York on her plane, and she wants us on the next commercial flight.”
He wasn’t ready to leave yet. Not without another night with Jazz. Another week. Another month. No, even that wouldn’t be nearly enough. “Have a nice trip. Give her my regards.”
“You can do that yourself, ’cause you’re coming with us,” Max told him, turning his attention to Jazz. “Lucy’s arranged for you to stay here in Key West until the hospital releases Jessica, then she’ll send her private plane to take you both back to Miami.”
“I’ll take them to Miami,” Alex said through clenched teeth. “Lucy doesn’t owe anybody anything except an apology. And I’m not going anywhere.” He looked at Jazz, who remained on the bed holding her sister’s hand, her gaze on him. “I’m staying right here,” he assured her.
Max crossed his arms across a massive chest. “Get real, Romero. Lucy already has your next assignment lined up.”
“Then take my place, Max. You can probably handle it—or think you can.”
“No, I can’t.”
“Why? Does it require sensitivity, brains, and good looks?” Alex asked as innocently as possible.
Dan laughed a little. “Actually, Alex, it requires Spanish. The job’s in Cuba. Lucy said she talked to you about it.”
Alex felt the blood drain from his head. So Lucy was going to reward him after all. She must feel pretty guilty about trusting Miles Yoder.
And that meant when it was over, fifteen people could leave that hellhole and live in Miami. With family. And opportunity. And security. Fifteen people who were tied to him by blood. Fifteen people who needed and wanted his protection…a helluva lot more than Jazz Adams did.
He looked at Jazz. “I have to go.”
“I know,” she said quickly. Much too quickly. “I mean, I knew you would.”
“Come outside with me,” he said softly, reaching a hand to her. “Talk to me for a minute.”
Just a minute. Just one stolen kiss in the antiseptic hallways of the Lower Keys Medical Center. But he wasn’t going to leave without telling her….
Damn. He’d rather say it in Spanish.
Max blocked his way to the door. “No time, Romero. We’re leaving for the airport.”
Alex’s lip curled. “Move the hell out of my way before I shoot you.”
“Come on, man.” Dan gave Max a light punch. “Give them five minutes.”
Max took one step to the right but kept his gaze locked on Alex, who closed his hand around Jazz’s and tugged her out the door.
They didn’t speak a word until they were outside. The sun had finally decided to make an appearance, drying the greenery and washing the medical center in blinding whiteness.
Jazz blinked into the sky as they walked toward a bench. Was she fighting tears, or the sun? Who was he kidding? Jazz didn’t cry; she was too tough.
“So. Cuba, huh?” she said, leaning against the back of the bench to face him. Her voice had an unnatural brightness, sounding more like her imitation of Jessica than her real self. “That should be…fun.”
“Guess that depends on your definition of fun.”
She seemed to tighten her grip on the bench behind her, looking up at him with a saucy smile that almost hid the sadness in her eyes. “Want to know my definition of fun?”
He couldn’t resist. “Night swimming?”
“This.”
“This?” Saying good-bye? In front of a hospital?
“This adventure. With you. Dodging bullets, chasing bad guys, arguing and…not arguing. This has been fun.”
A new wave of affection washed over him. “You’re a natural at it.” He put a finger on her lips, loving the softness of them. “Except you have to be careful with that rear end.”
“Excuse me?” She inched back and looked perplexed.
“When you’re attacked from behind, don’t stick your butt into your attacker. I’ve been meaning to tell you that since we met.”
She laughed. “And you just remembered now.”
“I thought we had more time.” He slid his hands around her waist and tugged her into his chest. “I’m not ready to leave you.”
She dropped her head on his shoulder and sighed. “Me neither.”
“When I get back—” he started.
“I’ll be in San Francisco.” She lifted her chin again. “And then, you’ll go to…Paris or Prague or Geneva.”
He laughed lightly. “I’ll probably bypass Geneva for a while.”
“You be careful, okay?” He could have sworn there was a crack in her fearless voice. “And stay away from your client’s wives.”
“I’m not interested in them, Jazz.”
She winked at him. “But they are—”
“No.” He shook his head. “No jokes.” He dipped his head closer to her. “Querida,” he muttered against her mouth. “Mi amor.”
She slid her hands up his arms and locked them behind his neck. “Then no more Spanish, either. I hate that I can’t understand you.”
“Just ask. I’ll tell you what I said.”
“Okay. What did you say the first time we made love?”
He exhaled with a laugh, and shook his head. “I don’t remember what I said.”
“You said, ‘Tenemos todo eternidad.’”
We have all eternity. Of course, that’s not what he meant when he said it. It was an expression, a sensual, lyrical way of slowing your lover down so you don’t explode too soon. But she wouldn’t understand that. Or the fact that he couldn’t promise eternity any more than he could promise when—or if—he’d be back from Cuba.
“It doesn’t have a literal translation.”
“Of course not. Because we don’t have eternity.” At his surprised look, she added, “I found Spanish phrases on the Internet.”
Of course she did. “Jazz…I never…” What could he say? He’d never met anyone like her? He’d never felt like this? He’d never meant to fall in love?
“Take risks,” she finished for him, a mix of tease and disappointment in her expression. “And you are looking straight into the face of the biggest risk you’ve ever known.”
She was right. He had no response for that.
“And I never want help,” she added. “And that’s what you live to do.”
Right again.
The hospital doors whooshed open behind him, and Max Roper marched outside to suck up the sunshine with his very presence. Alex groaned in frustration, and Jazz glanced over her shoulder to see who’d caused it.
“Why do you hate him so much?” she asked.
He just shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. What were you saying?”
“I was saying tenemos todo eternidad.” She threaded her fingers into his hair. “Not.”
Right then, more than anything in the world, he wished they did have eternity. But life and responsibilities and commitments made eternity seem impossible.
Jazz tightened her hold around Alex’s shoulders. “Good-bye, Alejandro.”
Longing made him ache inside. Or was that ache caused by the idea of taking a risk with her? She was the one who insisted she wanted no one to take care of her, and he was a man who knew no other way to express his love.
The power struggle would never end. “Jazz…I have a very strange life, an unpredictable, insane, dangerous—”
She silenced him with her fingertips to his lips. “I know all that.” Reaching up on her toes, she replaced her fingers with her lips. “I’ll never forget you. You’re my bodyguard.”
He hated the pain in his chest almost as much as he hated Roper’s unsubtle throat-clearing. He lowered his head and captured her mouth for one long, last soulful taste of her sweet, soft mouth. He could feel her heart hammer against his chest, their rhythm, as always, utterly in sync.
Reluctantly, he broke the kiss, then grazed her cheek with his lips and settled his mouth in the warmth of her ear. “Jasmine,” he whispered, purposely using the Spanish pronunciation of her name. “Te llevo en mi alma.”
He would carry her in his soul. That was the closest he could come to admitting how he felt, and how he felt could only be expressed in Spanish.
Her eyes darkened with a question, and her own emotions. Without waiting for her response, he followed Roper into the parking lot. He didn’t look back. Because if he had, he would forget his family, his promises, his responsibilities. And then he’d probably take the biggest risk of his life—and tell her he loved her.