The Pirate (14 page)

“And on the shot,” Laz said.

“How old are your boys?”

“Fifteen and sixteen. They are barely eleven months apart. They hate it when I lump them together.”

“But you do it anyway,” Laz said.

“I do,” she said. “They are united in my mind. I treat them like individuals.”

Laz took the crowbar back to the front of the room. “Talk to me while I work.”

“What about?”

“Your life back home. I've been doing this for so long I've forgotten what it's like to have a normal life,” he said.

“Surely your friends have ‘normal' lives,” she said.

“Nope,” he said. His circle of friends had narrowed to men he could trust and that meant the Savage Seven. There wasn't anyone else that he'd let into his inner circle. He had learned the hard way that trusting men became dead men. And he intended to live a good long time.

But first he had to get them the hell out of this room.

 

Daphne realized how much she liked Laz over the next thirty minutes as he worked to find the best way to free them from the room. It was very hot inside and she struggled to breathe sometimes, but he kept calm and cool.

Occasionally he'd talk to Savage on the earbud but for the most part he just worked at finding a way out of the anchor storage room and talked to her.

He asked a lot of questions about her everyday life. “When did you decide that you wanted to be a doctor?”

“Third year of college. I didn't go to medical school. But I'd been studying philosophy and one day the question was about legacies and what we live behind and I started thinking about that.”

“Why?”

“Because if I continued to study philosophy I'd be an observer of life and mostly of abstract things instead of a real participant. I wanted to really be out there making a difference, not discussing the differences that other people made.”

Daphne realized how young she sounded when she made that statement. It had been a young woman's desire to make a difference and she'd thought she had to be in a profession to do it. She always knew she wanted to be more than a wife and mother.

“What are you thinking?”

“That I can be incredibly naive sometimes.”

“Still?” he asked.

“Yes, I think so. What about you?”

He shrugged and then turned back to his work. She had kept the penlight pointed wherever he directed her to. His features were stark in the filtered light and he seemed very capable. She didn't imagine Laz ever had worried over what he would do and the impact of it. He was the kind of guy who went after his goals and damn the consequences.

“I enlisted at eighteen. I had a pretty good idea of what my legacy would be. And if I died for my country then I'd be okay with that. Making a difference…well, I've always had that on my mind.”

The sound of metal on metal scraping made her shiver, but she knew they were that much closer to being free and freedom was just a step toward taking back the tanker and getting back on track. Back on the path she'd started down for this summer.

“I can see you had. Was your family in the military?” she asked, needing to know everything she could about him. Here on the tanker he was becoming her reality.

He didn't answer as he repositioned himself and tried one more time to wedge himself down the opening.

“Nah, they were fishermen.”

“Truly? Is that why you're a sea captain?” she asked. Then realized that he was a mercenary, not a sea captain.

“Yes. My knowledge of boats and the seas came in handy for this mission. Savage knows how to put the right guy in the right job.”

“Why a mercenary, Laz? Is it for the money?” she asked because that question had been in the back of her mind for a while now.

Another shift of his long lean body and he almost lowered himself through the opening. “No. I do it because—you won't get this because you're from D.C.—but sometimes the government has to make decisions that aren't in the best interests of the people and I was tired of watching my CO have to be pulled back because someone in Washington thought stopping before the goal was reached was okay.”

She laughed. “Man, you sound just like Paul. The frustration comes from having to find a solution that everyone can get behind and he always says that means no one is happy.”

Laz made a grunting nose.

“Sorry. I guess you don't like politicians.”

“I don't care about them one way or another,” Laz said. “I just don't like thinking about your ex.”

Daphne wasn't sure what that meant. “Why?”

Laz turned to her, supporting his weight on his arms, and then he vaulted back out of the hole around the anchor chain. He pushed the penlight aside so it didn't illuminate his face. Then he came in close and kissed her hard and deep. She shivered as his tongue brushed over hers and then plunged deep into her mouth.

He pulled back. “I don't want any other man on your mind except me.”

She put her hands on his jaw. It was impossible to tell him that after being married for seventeen years she inevitably thought of things that Paul liked and said. She couldn't help that, but she no longer thought of Paul as someone who mattered to her.

“That…”

“What? Is it too much? Am I too possessive for a man you've known for so short a time?” he asked. He ran his callused thumb over her cheekbone.

It was hard to imagine that this man could compare in any way to Paul. “I'm not thinking of Paul. You just…listen, I lived with him most of my adult life and it's not that I'm pining over him. It's just that he was a constant in my life.”

“Why did your marriage end?” he asked.

“That's not really any of your business,” she said. No way was she going to tell Laz, who radiated an earthy sexuality, that her marriage had ended because Paul had been tired of her. Both sexually and personally.

“Damn it, Daph, it is my business. I'm not the kind of man who has a girl in every port. Hell—I was that kind of man,” he said. “But you changed all that.”

She shook her head. “Me? The girl next door? I don't think so, J.P.”

“You did. I can't explain it any plainer than the fact that when I look into your eyes I know that we are meant for more than this time together on the tanker,” he said.

And those words scared her. Plain and simple. She didn't want any man to say something like that to her because she'd be tempted to believe him, and if she did and he betrayed her, she'd die. She'd just wither up and die and never be able to trust any man again.

“Laz…”

“No, don't bother to say anything. I know I sound like I'm just saying whatever I have to,” he said, “but this time it means more.”

She shook her head.
This time
. He'd used words like that with other women. “My husband cheated on me, Laz. For two and a half years he had short-term affairs until he met a woman he finally felt like he could leave me for.”

Laz cursed under his breath.

“So when I say it's not you, it's me, believe it. I'm not sure I'm ready to trust any man when he says he's going to be with me forever. I'm not even sure I believe in forever any more.” Her voice cracked and she felt the sting of tears in the back of her eyes. She hated that the thought of not having a man by her side still made her cry but she'd grown up expecting to be married for her entire adult life and divorce had rocked her world.

Almost as much as having a gun held to her head.

Paul had killed dreams that had always been something she'd used to define herself. Abdu Samatan had stolen her sense of personal security and made her accept that she really was mortal. And J.P. Lazarus held the promise of security against both of those things yet she was too afraid to reach out and take it.

 

Laz went back to working on getting them out of the room. At first he'd enjoyed being in here alone with Daphne but now he needed to get out. He needed to do what he did best—action. He plain sucked at talking even when he was buried deep in her body and he knew she wasn't thinking about her ex or her old life. Just look how well it had gone when he'd told her how he felt.

Damn it. It pissed the hell out of him that her ex had hurt her that way. It didn't matter that if Paul hadn't been such an ass then Daphne would never have come on this trip and he'd never have met her. He wanted to be the only man she thought of and the man who always kept her safe.

But how could he protect her from her past?

He sure as hell hadn't been able to protect himself from it. He still had nightmares of the first man he'd killed up close and the comrades he'd lost on battlefields all over the world haunted him most nights.

But that was different. He didn't have mixed feelings about the way those men had died…well maybe Armand. Armand had been killed because a dirty double-crosser had betrayed him. Of course the rest of the Savage Seven had sent that bastard straight to hell.

He reached up and turned the mute off his earbud. He'd wanted privacy to talk to Daphne but that had backfired. He'd do better to remember that he was a warrior. And warriors didn't make good mates. Hadn't his first wife told him that?

“Savage, you copy?”

“Savage here.”

“Did you get in touch with Hamm?”

“Sort of. One of the men mentioned that he was concussed. I've tried to raise him but can't,” Savage said. “Samatan and another man are on the bridge. They've radioed for someone to prepare for hostages. I think that means they are going to try to move everyone off the ship.”

“That might be better. You can intercept.”

“Indeed we will. And Mann is ready to take out the pirates one by one if he has to.”

Laz laughed. “I bet it's like sitting on a caged tiger trying to keep him calm until he can take his shots.”

“Copy that,” Savage said.

Daphne stood quietly behind him. He knew she was listening to his side of the conversation and a few minutes ago he would have stopped to explain things to her, but she'd angered him when she'd said she couldn't trust him. So he didn't.

“Any word on the doctors in my group?” she asked.

“Tell her no. Still nothing. We don't know where they are being held. At first we thought they might be in the galley but we haven't been able to confirm,” Savage said.

“They haven't talked to them since the groups were split. We'll be out soon and can see what's going on,” Laz said. “Savage thinks they might be planning to move the hostages.”

“Where? If they take us to Eyl, our group has someone there who might be able to help,” Daphne said.

“Who?” Laz asked, surprised.

“I don't know. Bob said there was a contact there who would help us if we got taken to that port.”

“Nice. Isn't Bob the one who's had the surgery?”

“Yes,” Daphne said. “But Franny will know who it is as well. We can ask her.”

“Did you copy that, Savage?”

“I did. Confirm that Franny will know the name.”

“Confirmed. Do you want me to stay out until they take the hostages?”

“Negative. I want you to get free and get to Hamm. Then see if you can arm the groups and have them ready to overthrow Samatan on my command.”

“Copy that. There's an emergency boat on the port side that I will take the women to once I have the group assembled. Which direction should they go in?”

“Northeast. I'll send you the exact coordinates on the GPS unit we stashed on the boats,” Savage said.

“Confirm.”

“Confirm all you want,” Daphne said. “I'm not leaving on my own.”

“It's the only way. Besides you know that you're the prisoner he really wants to get his hands on. Think about that, Daph. Do you want to be ransomed to your sons and Paul?”

Laz would use whatever means necessary to get her off this tanker and to safety.

“I guess not.”

“Good. Now we need out of here.”

Laz continued to work on trying to get them out of the room but it was a time-consuming job. Finally he figured out the best way to slide his body through the opening. He put his foot through first and then his thigh. It was tight around his lean hips and his shoulders scraped as he pulled himself through. He had to awkwardly bend over to get his head out. But in a manner of minutes he was below the well room and in the bowels of the tanker.

He checked the area to make sure they were still clear before he reached up into the opening. “Come on, Daph.”

She wriggled herself through the space he'd made and soon was standing next to him. Her face was pale and sweat beaded her upper lip and had left marks on her T-shirt between her breasts. The heat, which he'd been largely ignoring, had affected her.

“How do you feel?” he asked. He hadn't thought to stash water around the tanker, never suspecting that they'd be imprisoned in one of the rooms.

“I'm fine. I just want to get back to my group and check on Bob.”

“We'll do that. But first we have to get to Hamm,” he said. “The pirates can't know we're free.”

She sighed. “What do you need me to do?”

“Stand guard while I figure the best way out of here,” Laz said. He walked across the deck to one of the life rafts, reaching below the tarp that covered it. He drew out a semiautomatic handgun. Hamm had stashed weapons onboard just in case.

He handed the weapon to her. She shuddered but took it. He wanted to kiss her again but made up his mind that he wasn't doing that anymore. She didn't want a man like him, even if she hadn't said that in so many words. He knew they were worlds apart and he was in an uphill battle if he wanted more from her than this brief tanker affair.

Hell, he knew that. He never had been a forever man, he thought, while he looked around for the direction they should head.