Kat Attalla Special Edition (26 page)

A pain to her backside initiated her into that fine Italian custom of rear-end pinching. She whirled around. Two strong hands gripped her shoulders and pushed her back into the wall. She opened her mouth to scream but nothing came out.

Numbness washed over her. She slumped into the man’s arms. He’d drugged her. “Help me,” her mind shrieked to the people who stopped to look, but they only stared.

“Lilly, honey,” the man muttered lovingly. He wiped his hand tenderly across her damp forehead. “I told you to be careful of the Italian wine. It’s far too strong for you, baby.” He glanced up at the crowd of onlookers and shrugged. “She’s not used to drinking.” He made a gesture with his hand and repeated his words in fluent Italian. The bastard had them laughing at her. No one would help her. “Come on. The car is just around the corner. What? You can’t walk?”

He swept her up in his arms as everything went black.

* * * *

Jack braced his hands against the wall as the small boat pitched from side to side on the churning sea. He glanced at the petite woman sleeping on the bunk bed. Nylon rope bound her hands together. Guilt over tying her up left a bad taste in his mouth, but she possessed more ingeuinity than he’d expected. That little slip of a woman had given him a really hard time.

He’d followed her since she left the States two months ago. In that time, she’d made contact with no one. The department wanted to move on her ex-boss, Santana, so Jack had planned to bring her in a month earlier when they were in
Lisbon
, but he got blind-sided by a love-struck bear of a man. The crazy fisherman almost killed him. By the time he’d regained consciousness, he’d disappeared again.

Five days later, he caught up with her in
Madrid
. He knew she needed money since he’d lifted her wallet before she got away. A contact confirmed that she’d finally shown up at the American Express office for a cash advance.

“Murphy?”

Jack closed the cabin door and turned towards the voice. “Yeah?”

“There are storm warnings. We’ll have to bring her into port in Nice.”

“Shit.” He pounded his fist against the wall. “Damn it, Stucky. I told you we needed a bigger boat. It’s too risky.”

“It’s the best I could do. Did you want me to advertise?”

Jack massaged his throbbing hand. What choice did he have? They couldn’t exchange the boat for a larger model since they appropriated the vessel illegally. The owner had surely reported it missing by now.

He planned to keep the boat out at sea until they could meet their contact in Tangier. Bringing Lilly into port in
France
could put the mission in jeopardy and might prove fatal. His two-week assignment had turned into a two-month ordeal. “Okay. But I need a jeep as soon as we dock. Get in touch with Anton and see if he can find me a safe house—as far away from people as possible. I have a feeling our guest is going to be screaming like a banshee when she comes to.”

“Give her another shot.”

“No. I didn’t want you to drug her the first time. I could have handled her without it. The idea is to bring her back alive.”

Stucky scratched his head. “And they’ll be able to convince her to testify?”

“It’s not our problem.” Stucky returned to the deck while Jack remained below. “It’s not our problem,” he muttered again.

The job ended when he delivered her to his boss. He’d never obsessed over what came next. Only Lilly McGrath wasn’t a hardened criminal, and something about this job stuck in his throat. For the first time he wondered what would happen when she was no longer useful to them.

* * * *

Lilly rolled to her side and groaned. The bright morning light sent a searing jolt of pain across her forehead. She squeezed her eyes shut. Drums pounded in her ears. When she tried to stretch she found her hands bound tightly together at the wrists. Forcing her eyelids opened again, she looked around the sparsely furnished room.

What had happened?

A flood of memories came rushing back.
Italy
—the laughter—and that man who had tormented her across half of
Europe
. She needed to escape. But how?

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and slipped to the floor on her knees. All her muscles felt stiff but she demanded they respond and pulled herself up.

Where was she? According to her watch, only two hours had passed. Impossible. She checked the date and amended her thoughts. Twenty-six hours. How far could they have taken her in that time? Someone would have noticed if they tried to put her on an airplane.

She swallowed and noticed the lingering taste of salt. She must have been near the sea recently. A boat? Of course. How else would they plan to cross borders?

Shaking off the fatigue from her muscles, she walked to the boarded window of the rustic cabin. An old newspaper on the dresser below the window appeared to be written in French, so hopefully she was still on the European continent. She reached for the door but withdrew her hands quickly when she heard voices on the other side. Footsteps headed in her direction, and she darted back to the bed.

The door opened, and he walked in carrying a tray. He placed it on the table. “How are you feeling?”

She glared coldly at the man she’d learned to recognize as readily as her own father. Thick, sable brown hair fell in soft waves over his collar. The corner of his mouth lifted in an arrogant grin. His piercing eyes, straight nose and rugged jaw gave him an alarming appeal, and a full day’s stubble on his chin added to his rakish appearance. She remembered that he’d had a moustache the first time she saw him, but after
Lisbon
he gave it up.

He wore a cable knit sweater and brown corduroy pants, giving him a distinctly Mediterranean look. Like a chameleon, he had a unique talent for resembling the locals, no matter where they crossed paths.

Tall, dark and handsome.

Every woman’s fantasy was her nightmare.

* * * *

“Coffee?” Jack asked, holding out a cup of dark steaming brew. Lilly took the cup he offered in her two hands.

He realized his mistake the second he read her intention. He turned just in time to miss being scalded in the face by the hot liquid she hurled at him. “You vicious little brat!”

The coffee seeped through the sweater, burning the skin on his back. He quickly  pulled the garment over his head and draped it on his arm. He suppressed the urge to retaliate. In her shoes, he would have done the same.

He’d underestimated her again. Two months ago, she’d been a frightened woman running for her life, an export clerk who stumbled onto something she shouldn’t have noticed. She knew enough to make her a liability but not enough to keep herself safe.

At least, she appeared to be innocent. She could be involved right up to her baby-blue eyes, but that would be the most incredible acting job he’d witnessed. Since leaving
New York
, she’d become tougher, but she still didn’t strike him as the criminal type. She didn’t possess the hardness it took to live that kind of life.

“Didn’t care for the coffee? Perhaps you’ll like the food.”

She kicked her leg out and sent the tray flying from the bedside table. Stuck’s efforts at an edible breakfast littered the hardwood floor.

Jack reached for the door handle. “When you get hungry, you can scrape it off the floor.”

He leaned against the outside wall and listened while she vented her frustration with him. Luckily, the room didn’t have much furniture, because even with her hands tied she managed to toss a few wooden chairs around the room. She recovered most of her strength, which alleviated his guilt about Stucky giving her those shots.

He chuckled. Let her get it out of her system, he decided. She’d be so exhausted by evening that he wouldn’t need to drug her again.

“What’s going on?” Stucky asked.

“She didn’t like your cooking.” Glass shattered against the door, and Jack groaned. “When can we get moving again?”

“Tonight maybe. Tomorrow at the latest. Give her another shot.”

“No.” Although he’d been assured that, in moderation, the drug left no permanent damage, he wasn’t a doctor.

Another flying object crashed against the door, and his partner jumped. “Do you have a freaking death wish? You’ll never be able to control her like that.”

Jack thought about the woman he’d tailed for the past two months. An uncomfortable tightening stirred in his loins. A reaction that happened far too often recently. He mentally shook himself. A death wish? The fiery beauty in the other room was no threat to his life, only his hormones.

Casting the dangerous thoughts aside, he returned his attention to the older man’s worried expression. What the hell was Stucky’s problem? If they couldn’t handle one small woman, they should retire.

Normally his partner had cast iron nerves, but this job appeared to be getting to him. Although Stucky had tried to decline the assignment, Jack insisted on having him for back up once he actually grabbed Lilly. Unable to fully trust anyone within his own department, he preferred to bypass the normal channels and sneak her back into the country. To accomplish that goal, he needed Stucky’s expertise to get them in and out of ports undetected.

They disagreed fundamentally on the way to handle themselves, but Jack still had a tremendous amount of respect for the older man. Where Stucky played by the established rules, Jack preferred to make his own.

“We’ll see how the day goes. You go into town and get supplies. I don’t want to stop again before we get to Tangier.”

Stucky nodded and seemed relieved. A few colleagues hinted that Stucky had lost his edge after the death of his partner the year before. Jack dismissed the charge at the time, but now he wondered. Stress had taken down more men than the job itself.

* * * *

Jack slouched in a chair to read the local paper. At dinnertime, he decided to make another attempt to feed Lilly. If she became weak, they might be delayed longer. He discarded the idea of cooking an egg in case he ended up with it on his face. How much damage could she do with a sandwich and cold water?

He peered around the door and entered carefully. A faded white sheet covered her body curled up on the cot. “Lilly?”

Although she pretended to be asleep, a muffled hiccup gave her away. An unfamiliar wave of regret washed over him.

He walked around the bed, avoiding the shattered remnants of her temper tantrum, and knelt down in front of her. “I know you’re awake.”

Her eyes flew open, and her untied hand shot out from below the sheet. A fragment of broken glass, clenched tightly in her fingers, sliced into his cheek. He recoiled at the same time her foot landed in his chest and sent him flying backwards into the wall.

* * * *

Lilly rolled off the far side of the bed and sprinted down a short corridor that led directly to the living room and kitchen area. Footsteps echoed through the house. Without looking behind her, she sprinted out the front door and into the wooded area beyond. Her body stayed in motion on pure instinct.

She zigzagged through the brush, scraping her arms on the bark of the trees she used for balance. Leaves and branches rustled beneath her feet. She kept a careful watch on the ground. Her ankle still hurt, and she couldn’t afford to twist it again.

Between the tall pines she caught sight of a house. The smoke from the chimney rose like a beacon, leading her to safety. Surely someone would help her. Less than twenty feet from the clearing, something in front of her moved.

She stopped short and stared straight into the snout of a wolf. The gray canine growled and eyed her warily. Her heart thumped against her ribs. She ran her tongue along her top lip, tasting the salty warmth of her nervous perspiration. Wolves don’t normally attack people, she reminded herself.
Unless of course they’re rabid,
her over-active imagination added.

“Don’t move,” a deep voice ordered from behind.

The wolf’s ears arched into an attack position. She had a tough choice deciding on the lesser of the two evils. Either one could mean her death. The wolf would be quicker.

“Back up, slowly. Don’t turn. Don’t take your eyes off it.”

Lilly followed his orders and inched backwards. Her foot tangled in a fallen branch and she raised her arm instinctively. The animal bared its fangs and took a step towards her. One shot rang out, and the wolf yelped and took off in the other direction.

Before she had time to enjoy her relief, she was caught from behind and pulled to the ground. He straddled his legs across her hips to hold her down and grabbed both her wrists as she tried to pummel him.

The menacing eyes that glared down at her were as wild as the wolf’s and infinitely more dangerous. The gash on his cheek still bled. He wiped his arm across his face, leaving a bright red stain on his white shirtsleeve.

She sensed that he wanted to hurt her, but something stopped him. Why didn’t he just shoot her and get it over with?