White Hot (36 page)

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Authors: Nina Bruhns

BOOK: White Hot
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He accepted the unfamiliar device, examined it, and loaded the SD card into the appropriate slot, then punched keys until the thing turned on. He handed it back.

Xing Guan stepped away and used his thumb to type in a few commands. Apparently he knew what he was looking at; it didn’t take more than a few minutes for him to nod in stony approval. He handed Clint the tablet. “Take out now.”

He did as he was told.

“Throw in sea,” Guan ordered.

Clint’s brows knitted. Unexpected—and annoyingly smart. No chance of the SD card ever falling into non-Chinese hands again. Setting his jaw, he threw it. The small storage card sailed far out over the water and winked into the darkness.

“Oh, Clint,” came Samantha’s soft lament as they all watched it disappear.

For a moment, no one moved. Then Frank muttered, “Fuckin-A.
That’s
what this was all about?”

“Okay. I’ve kept up my end,” Clint said, stowing his frustration with both Frank and this whole damn mission, and started to turn back to Guan. “Now hand over that con—”

But he was talking to thin air.

Xing Guan had vanished.

Clint spun around. “Sonofa—” His pulse went into overdrive. “Where’d he go?”

Spiros’s jaw had dropped, and the other three just looked flummoxed. They’d all been so intent on the SD card no one had noticed the assassin slip away.

Clint whipped a look up at Samantha, his stomach clenching in growing panic. Through the mesh, her surprised gaze met his. Her lips parted uncertainly. Slowly, her expression softened into heartrending acceptance. Her fingers stretched toward him through the strands of her prison. “Clint,” she whispered.

Then the cable jerked, the hook opened, and the net dropped like a stone to the sea, with Samantha trapped inside.


No!
” Clint bellowed, anguish filling every molecule of his being. And then his feet were running, running, his mind in a fever, toward the rail. He didn’t think,
couldn’t
think, he just knew he must save her.

If anything happens to you, I won’t care what happens to me.

He brushed off the alarmed calls of the crew behind him, ignored the agonizing pain in his body, and sprinted on with single-minded purpose toward his destiny.
One way or another.

He hit the side with ferocious velocity, fingers brushing the top rail as he flew over it in a graceful arc. He stilled his mind as his grandfather had taught him, and dove down, down, down, into the freezing water below.

37

Sam was wet and cold…so cold her skin burned, white hot flames licking at her flesh.

And she was shivering—deep, continuous wracking shivers that rattled her bones and teeth and skull.

The ship was shaking, too, or bouncing, or…She gave up trying to figure it out. It hurt too much to think. But the ship hit a massive wave, and her body slammed against something solid and…
warm
.

She gave a little moan, wanting to…wanting…

“Shhh,” a sonorous murmur rumbled into her hair. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you. Here, snuggle closer.”

Strong arms tightened around her.

Oh, yes.
That
was what she wanted. Who she wanted…

She nestled into his warm, safe body, and sighed.
Safe

She felt herself start to drift away, and she fought against the darkness. She had to tell him…something. Tell him something important. Before it was too late.

I love you.

Had she said it aloud?

Yes! Maybe? She tried to open her mouth and form the words. But she was shivering too badly. She gave up, and let herself drift. Down, down, down, into the comforting warmth of his embrace.

I love you
, she whispered in her mind.
I love you.
I love you.

I love you.

When Sam awoke, she was alone.

But not for long. Waking up must have triggered one of the dozens of blinking, beeping monitors surrounding the bed, and a few minutes later a nurse bustled in.

“You’re awake. Excellent. How do you feel?”

Sam considered the question, mentally probing her body for signs of anything wrong. “Good,” she concluded. “What happened to me?”

“Severe hypothermia. You don’t remember?”

She thought back and felt a brief stab of panic. “Something about a net…and…”

The nurse gave a short nod. “Not to worry. I wouldn’t want to remember, either. If your guy hadn’t jumped in to save you…well, let’s just say it’s a good thing he did.”

She blinked at the woman. “My…Clint? He jumped in?” This time the panic was longer. “In his condition?” That much she
did
remember. And…the drop to the water from
Île de Cœur
’s weather deck was— Her eyes widened. “Oh, my God.”

“He’s lucky he didn’t kill himself,” the nurse agreed. She gave a naughty smile. “Would have been a darn shame. Such a handsome man. And so devoted.” At Sam’s blank look, she said, “Why, he put up such a fuss about staying with you when you came in that the doctor had to sedate him in order to treat
his
injuries.” The woman’s lips curved up higher. “He didn’t like that, I can tell you.”

Sam could imagine. She smiled. And all the crazy emotions she’d felt for him came flooding back, jumbling in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to see him! She wanted to
hold him. She wanted to— “So he’s all right? Is he…?”
Gone?
She swallowed, terrified of the answer.

“Oh, he’s a stubborn one. He’ll be fine. Checked out early this morning, broken ribs and all,” she said, efficiently fluffing Sam’s pillow.

At those words, those achingly terrible, but expected words, Sam’s heart died inside. “Ah,” she managed.

“These are from him,” the nurse said, adjusting a huge vase of red roses on the nightstand, plucking at a couple of dead petals. “Oh! I nearly forgot. He said to tell you he took your laptop.”

Sam blinked. “Why on earth would he do that? I need it for my ship’s logs.” If it still worked. After falling on it and shattering the case, she wasn’t so sure.

“Not to worry.” The nurse pointed at an envelope next to the roses. “He left you a thumb drive with all your data on it. He said he needed to take the hard drive with him.” The nurse made a face. “Something about getting it to the navy because of some software or something he’d transferred onto it. Didn’t make any sense at all to me.”

Sam’s jaw dropped as she stared at the nurse. The SD card? He hadn’t lost the data, after all? Thank God! No wonder he’d insisted she take the laptop with her when she went to the trawler.

“No wonder he checked out and left so quickly.”

She felt dizzy from the hurt that squeezed the air from her lungs.

“Oh?” The nurse briskly deposited the dead rose petals in the wastebasket. “Well. He did say to be sure and tell you he’d call you, dear.”

Sure he would.

She shouldn’t be so surprised. Sam had known all along he’d leave as soon as they reached a town with an airport. And this town obviously had one. Wherever she was. The fact that he hadn’t lost whatever intel was on the data card only made it more urgent he leave. He had an important job and a life, and he’d need to get back to…wherever he lived.

She’d known that. Hell, she’d
wanted
that. That was their deal.

She swallowed heavily.

Right?

“Did they catch the hijacker…?” she asked through a tightening throat. “The man who—” Her voice broke.

The nurse looked at her with pity in her eyes. “No. I believe he got away, dear. Something about the ship exploding, and a submarine, I think, or…” She shook her head. “I’m not sure. All very hush-hush I understand. The rumor is—”

Sam couldn’t concentrate enough to listen any longer. She let the woman ramble on about spies and terrorists and the terrible state of security in this country until she finally bustled out of the room.

Leaving Sam alone again.

To cry herself to sleep.

A week later Sam was still crying herself to sleep, but she’d managed to get through the entire day before without breaking down in the grocery store, or tearing up at stupid commercials, or wanting to hurl the phone through the window each time it rang.

It wasn’t that he didn’t call. He
did
call. Every day. At least once. Sometimes two or three times.

But she didn’t answer. She didn’t want to talk to him. Didn’t want to hear his excuses for leaving, or that he wanted to “keep in touch.” Didn’t want him to ask her if she was pregnant, because she wasn’t. Either she never had been, or her icy swim in the Bering Sea had made her lose it.

He left messages, but she muted the machine and deleted them unheard. The man was persistent, she’d give him that much. But his persistence only made it that much harder on her.

Why wouldn’t he just leave her alone? He obviously didn’t want to be with her, so what was the point of all this?

Finally, she changed her phone number, and the calls stopped.

Thank. God.

Now maybe she could move on with her life.

And today would no doubt be the first day of the rest of
that
wonderful adventure. Her father had summoned her for a meeting at the Richardson Shipping headquarters. That’s where she was now.

She heaved a big sigh and checked herself in the ladies’ room mirror. Her favorite suit was a little loose because she hadn’t been eating much for the past week, but the color was good. A power color—red. To match her eyes.

Maybe she should think about getting some colored contact lenses.

She straightened her skirt and headed for the conference room. This should be a barrel of laughs. She knew what was coming—there couldn’t be much doubt about that. Her father had not been pleased to learn his ship had been blown up with all its cargo.

Thankfully the Coast Guard had shown up moments before and gotten the crew safely off the ship. Which had happened just moments after a helo from the
George Washington
had arrived in the nick of time to pluck her and Clint from the freezing water. The exciting rescue had been captured on video by one of the airmen with his cell phone and been shown ad nauseum on news programs all over the world. Which had interested Sam only because she herself had no memory whatsoever of the event. No memory of anything after being forced into that awful cargo net. Amnesia. One of the symptoms of severe hypothermia.

It was just as well she was about to be fired. She didn’t think she could ever look another cargo net in the face as long as she lived. Awkward for a cargo ship’s captain.

She walked into the conference room with a confident stride and her head held high. No sense giving her father the satisfaction. But she had to admit she was a little surprised the entire board of directors was sitting at the long mahogany table. All men, of course. Big shock. Other than the
secretary poised to take notes. Did they not even see what dinosaurs they were? They actually thought calling the secretary an “executive assistant” made it all better. She allowed herself an eye roll.

She glanced out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the Seattle harbor below and already felt a touch of nostalgia at seeing the bobbing boats and stately ships sparkling in the sun like a picture postcard. She’d miss the sea. A lot. Perhaps a kayak…

She turned to face the music.

“Samantha.” Her father greeted her with a smile that didn’t quite make it up to his eyes. “You’re looking well, I see.”

“Yes, thank you.”

He put out a hand. “Please, have a seat.”

She glanced at the offered chair and suddenly decided this was one exercise she would just as soon skip. She’d thought she could do it. But no. She was in no frame of mind to endure another humiliation, in public, by the one man who by any standard should love and support her…but never had. Too dangerous.

Hell, she’d killed a man. And no one had said a word. Not one. She’d gotten away with murder. That might give her ideas.

She tried to smile but her cheek kept jumping.

She cleared her throat. “Let’s just cut to the chase, shall we? I’m fired, right?”

Jason Richardson suddenly looked acutely uncomfortable. He forced a jovial laugh. “Fired? No, no. Nothing like that. Please, have a seat, and let’s talk about it.”

Right.
“Don’t think so, Dad. Let me take a wild guess. After careful consideration, you’re not renewing my captain’s papers with the company, but would be happy to offer me a job as, oh, say, a secretary.” She glanced at the woman taking notes. “Oh, I’m sorry, I mean executive assistant.” She looked back at her father. “Close?”

He actually squirmed. She didn’t know you could do that standing up.

She pushed out a breath and picked up her purse. “Yeah. I’ll pass.”

“But— Samantha, sweetheart, surely you must see it’s impossible for us to entrust you with another commission.” He smiled benignly. “Look what happened to the first ship we entrusted to you! Your poor judgment and—”

She held up a hand. “Stop. I don’t want to hear the reasons. Let’s just save everyone the trouble. I q—”

A deep voice from the corner of the room interrupted her. “I’d like to hear his reasons.”

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