The black boat slowed abruptly and turned hard to face them. Its engines roared a challenge. Coming in for a head-on pass, like a knight on a black charger. She dared not get into a contest of straight runs against the larger, faster boat. It would eat them alive. She had to keep them both going in circles. Use her more agile boat and tighter turn radius to her advantage. Keep speed out of the mix altogether.
The other boat accelerated. Coming straight at them. Her passenger grabbed the top of the short windshield to steady himself and his weapon.
Dont get comfortable, she called. Im going to turn hard right just in front of him and youll get a better shot to your left. Were going to send up a hell of a wake and its going to rock him violently, so time your shots accordingly.
He spared her a startled glance. Then he grinned at her, a fleeting expression that passed across his face almost too fast to see. But she caught the flash of white, the sexy lift of the corner of his mouth. His eyes briefly glowed whiskey-warmand then the smile was gone. He was gone. With a bunch and spring of powerful thighs, hed leaped aft to crouch behind the seats.
The distance between the two boats closed shockingly fast. She made out the face of the other boats driver, a swarthy man with death in his eyes. A second man stood up in the passengers seat, brandishing some sort of machine gun over the windshield.
He wasnt looking at her, though. He was searching the deck of her vessel for her passenger. The black boats engines roared even louder. Obviously the other driver expected to make a straight, high-speed pass and let the gunmen duke it out.
Wrongo, buckwheat. Just a few more seconds almostthere! She yanked off the throttles and whipped the steering wheel over to the right, standing the BabyDoll up practically on her starboard side. As the port propeller came back down in the water, Kinsey jammed in the power. The boat leaped forward, up and over its own wake. Her prow slammed down and stabilized, giving her passenger a great look at the black boat.
Clearly stunned by her maneuver, the other driver slammed his throttles back and jerked right to avoid a collision. Theyd have never hitthe Baby Doll had cut across his path too fast. But the guys sharp turn combined with her wake hitting him full broadside rocked the big cigarette violently.
The other gunman staggered, grabbing for his windshield and hanging on desperately to avoid getting dumped out of the boat altogether.
Now! she screamed.
Her companion popped up, firing hard and fast. The crackling sound of bullets ripping into fiberglass peppered the air. The other gunman lurched left to face themjust in time to clutch at his chest and topple over into the water. Swear to God, it looked like a stunt straight out of a Hollywood movie. Except that rapidly spreading scarlet in the water was no movie prop.
And then the Baby Doll danced away, arcing away behind the black cigarette. The other driver craned his neck around, trying to keep her in visual range. His engines roared and the chase was on again. The guy tried to cut off the angle of her curve and come straight at her again, but she hadnt grown up on the water for nothing. She continued turning back and forth until the black cigarette was forced into following the same turning track behind her.
Hang on, she warned her passenger. Were about to zig right and hope he zags left! She whipped her boat into a counterturn, arcing back into the path of the other boat. It was a maneuver an old Vietnam fighter pilot had shown her once. He called it a counterturn. Whatever it was called, it was highly effective. In a matter of seconds, her prow was pointed straight at the black boats starboard side. Her client jumped up in the passenger seat and raked the black boat with automatic gunfire. Fist-size holes abruptly marred the sleek black hull.
Lower! she called. Down by the water line!
He didnt acknowledge her instruction. But, he mustve changed his aim, for immediately a new line of fissures erupted along the black hull mere inches above the water. The fiberglass cracked and shattered under the relentless spray of lead. She peeled hard left, sending up a rooster tail of water that had to have drenched the other driver. If she was lucky, the other guys hull should be badly compromised and starting to take on water.
Get down! her companion shouted.
She ducked as popping noises burst all around her. The Baby Doll shuddered as somethinga whole bunch of somethingshit her. Not good. The other gunman was firing back. Kinsey slammed the throttles forward. The Baby Doll bounded away from the spray of lead. The sound of the other boat diminished. She looked over her shoulder. The black boat wasnt giving chase. For that matter, it looked to be riding noticeably low in the water.
She guided the Baby Doll around a rocky point and the crippled black boat disappeared from view. They raced onward for another two minutes or so, flying down the coast of Tortola, the largest of the British Virgin Islands.
Ive got to slow down and check out my boat soon, she called. Although the Baby Doll didnt handle like it was taking on water, it was a half-million-dollar piece of equipment, and it wasnt hers. Her father would kill her if she sank his favorite toy.
Do it, her passenger replied.
She powered back to idle, and the sudden quiet was a shock. Take the wheel while I have a look at the hull.
She stepped out of the cockpit and, balancing carefully, made her way out onto the forward hull. She stretched out on her stomach and leaned over the edge of the boat to have a look at the damage. A series of dents marred the cotton-candy-pink hull, but shockingly, it didnt look like there were any holes. Stunned, she shifted over the other side of the boat. No hull breaches there, either. Thank God.
Hows it looking? the man asked.
Fine, she replied in disbelief. She pressed to her feet and made her way back to the deck.
He offered her a hand as she stepped over the windshield. Their palms met, his large and callused and impossibly gentle. An actual tremor passed through her. And she wasnt a trembly kind of girl, thank you very much. Wow. She hopped down, still holding his hand. He waited a millisecond too long to release her fingers. But she noticed. And her stomach did a neat flip.
She cleared her throat nervously. None of the bullets seem to have punctured the hull. Now that I think about it, I remember hearing something about this boat having a hybrid epoxy hull that uses layers of Kevlar instead of fiberglass or carbon cloth.
Her passengers eyebrows shot straight up. A bulletproof boat?
Sort of. Belatedly, caution speared through her. Who are you? And who were those guys chasing you?
It doesnt matter. For what its worth, my employer will pay for any damage to the boat incurred while you saved my a he amended, my behind.
Not to worry. Anyone who can afford a boat like this can afford repairs on it. She might have delivered that line in a supremely unconcerned manner, but she was shaking from head to foot. Shed actually been shot at! For that matter, this guy was still casually brandishing his machine gun. Hed slung it from a strap over his right shoulder, and it pointed down the length of his muscular thigh. She jerked her gaze away from his weapon nervously.
Not to worry. Anyone who can afford a boat like this can afford repairs on it. She might have delivered that line in a supremely unconcerned manner, but she was shaking from head to foot. Shed actually been shot at! For that matter, this guy was still casually brandishing his machine gun. Hed slung it from a strap over his right shoulder, and it pointed down the length of his muscular thigh. She jerked her gaze away from his weapon nervously.
She ticked off on her fingers, Boat chase, check. Gun battle, check. Narrow escape, check. Whats next on the agenda, Mister? She broke off, leaving the obvious question of his name hanging.
He hesitated just an instant too long. Perovski. Mitch Perovski.
For today, at any rate? she replied lightly.
Something like that, he responded, as dry as the Gobi desert.
Not much of a talker. But then, she could relate. Shed come down here to the islands in search of silence, herself. Relief from the vapid noise of humanity. My names Kinsey she hesitated. Rather than give him her well-known last name, she substituted her middle name. Pierpont. Kinsey Pierpont.
She powered the boat up to a safe and inconspicuous cruising speed, closer to twenty knots than eighty. Where can I take you?
He snorted. Anywhere thats not Tortola, or the British Virgin Islands for that matter.
The Baby Doll carried fuel for a few hours of cruising, which would reach several nearby islands outside the British chainnot that shed decided to take him anywhere. Did you kill that guy? The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.
He shrugged. A gut shot like that is usually fatal, but since we didnt stick around to check him out, I wouldnt call it a confirmed kill.
He sounded so bloody calm about it. Her heart practically pounded its way out of her chest at the mere thought of that guy toppling overboard.
What islands can we reach on our current fuel load? the man asked, abruptly serious again. Hed gone from relaxed to full predator mode in the blink of an eye. The shift was disconcerting.
She glanced down at the fuel gauges. Where did you have in mind?
Another shrug. Cagey, he was. You were the Plan C I wasnt supposed to need. I didnt work out the details after the part where you saved my hide. Thanks, by the way.
Youre welcome, I think. You are one of the good guys, arent you?
I am.
That was it? No explanation? No identification? No reason offered for carrying around that monstrous gun and using it on someone? And the guy you shot?
Definite bad guy.
It would be far too easy to take this man at his word. She needed to believe him. Needed to believe he wouldnt turn that gun on her with the same casual ease he had those other guys. Heck, she needed to get on the radio and call the British Coast Guard. She reached for the radio mike and jumped violently when her passengers hand whipped out to cover hers. His grip wasnt painful, but was unmistakably powerful.
What are you doing? His voice was a low, dangerous rumble.
The sound vibrated deep in her belly, stirring part fear and part something else altogether. She replied lightly, Im calling in the cavalry.
Dont.
But
You dont know what youre involved in. Dont call the authorities or the blood of a whole lot of good men could end up on your hands.
But those guys were shooting at us
And we shot back.
You shot back.
I shot back. I need you to leave the police out of this for now. I cant go into the details but you have to trust me.
Riiight. Trust him. Not.
I need you to promise you wont contact the police. I dont want to have to restrain you.
Restrain
He cut her off with a sharp slash of his hand through the air. Promise.
Their gazes clashed, hers defiant and histhe sun turned his a molten gold that could consume her whole and melt her down to nothing. A girl could lose herself in those eyes if she wasnt careful. Very careful.
Well? he demanded. Do we do this the easy way or the hard way?
Chapter 2
Her gaze narrowed. Oh, how tempting it was to tell him to go to hell. But he was bigger than she was, stronger than she was, and undoubtedly meaner. Then there was his machine gun to consider. Reining in her surliness, she retorted, I wont call the police if youll put that gun away.
He stared intently at her for a moment more, clearly weighing her honesty. Then he nodded. Fair enough. He pivoted with that extreme, muscular grace of his and padded to the back of the deck where his duffel still lay. She caught the wince that passed across his features.
Are you okay? she asked in quick concern. If those guys in the black boat came back, Mitch was her only protection.
Yeah. Its a flesh wound. Ill clean it up when I know were safe.
It looks bad.
He glanced down, surprised. Nah, thats a little scratch. No organs hanging out or bones showing. Im good.
He wasnt goodhe was hurt.
She watched cautiously as he wiped down the machine gun and stowed it in the canvas bag.
Thank God. Being in the presence of that giant weapon made her too nervous to function rationally. Not to mention, he was gorgeous enough to send her pulse into the stratosphere. Her thoughts jumped around as disjointedly as caged monkeys.
I know your name, but who are you? she asked more sharply than shed intended. Panic hovered too close, waiting for the slightest opening in which to pounce.
Im American.
I can tell youre American from your accent. But who are you?
Silence. A frown wrinkled his brow, but he ignored her question. Or maybe chose not to answer.
How rude was that? Hed dragged her into the middle of a shoot-out, for goodness sake. A tiny voice in the back of her head said her anger was irrational, but the much louder voice of her fear-morphed-to-fury overruled it. Who were those men chasing you?
That got more reaction out of him. A full-blown shrug. Wow. Some communicator. A flinch flickered across his face, then his expression went smooth and impassive again. Except for those incredible eyes of his. They all but ate her alive.
Her insides quailing with some reaction she chose not to examine closely, she tried again. Why were they shooting at you?
His gaze, now tinted orange by the blossoming sunset, snapped with irritation. What did he have to be irritated about? She was the injured party here. She announced, I want you off the boat. Now.
Ill bet you do, he purred.
He could stop sending shivers across her skin like that any time now. Im serious.
He glanced around at the water on all sides with distaste. You want me to jump overboard?
I was thinking more in terms of walking the plank. But I want you off the Baby Doll. I want no part of whatever it is youre mixed up in.
Dammit, the guy had a smile so hot it threatened to melt her righteous fury into a completely ineffectual puddle of lust. Spine, woman. Spine! Her gaze narrowed belatedly.