Chill (14 page)

For what?

Luke wanted to be inside her.

More than he’d ever wanted any woman in his entire life.

His quads were tense, vibrating with the effort of not making that final movement. Her body felt amazing beneath him. Her breasts were crushed against his chest. Her left foot was making small circles on the back of his calf, and he had a feeling she wasn’t even aware she was doing it. Her skin smelled amazing. No more scent of lavender. She simply smelled like herself. Like damp skin, with the faintest aroma of something sweet, getting more intense as she warmed up.

She slid her fingers into his hair, and he closed his eyes at the sensation. A gentle, tentative touch exploring his head. It wasn’t a caress. Not yet. It was an exploration, an instinct. He knew what she was feeling.

He needed to touch her as well.

Hell, he’d needed to touch her since the first moment he’d seen her in the bar. But now that he’d seen her courage, her vulnerabilities, she was so much more. He didn’t just want to be inside her. He needed it.

“Luke?”

Something trembled inside him at the sound of her
voice. So soft, so feminine, low pitched with the background music of delicate bells. “Yeah.”

“Why do you hate your dad?”

Luke tensed, and he felt that all-too-familiar hardness boil in his chest. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

She moved, and he jumped at the sudden sensation of her hands on his cheeks. “Luke,” she whispered, “I need to know what Marcus is really like. I need to understand why I have a bullet in my shoulder and why Ren’s grandson was taken.”

They were the words he’d wanted to hear. The green light to set her straight, so she could take back her life. But now that he had the opportunity…shit. He didn’t want to break through that golden bubble she’d erected around herself. Damn Marcus for being such a bastard and not being worthy of this woman’s love.

She stroked his cheek lightly. “I can handle a lot, Luke. It makes me stronger to get information and to know what I’m facing.”

Shit. He could have said those words himself. He was always hungry for information, and information had been his weapon his whole life. How could he turn that down?

He put his hand over hers and squeezed.

She responded in kind, and he focused on that sensation, the physical connection with another human being. A liberty he hadn’t allowed himself in so long.

And then he thought of the story he’d never told to anyone.

The one he hadn’t even allowed himself to revisit.

The past that had been off limits for so long was finally about to be put back on the table.

He began to talk.

Luke released Isabella’s hand, and she sensed he was putting distance between them.

She felt the loss of his touch, but she didn’t hold on. She knew what it was like to need distance.

“I was eight years old,” Luke said. “Sound asleep in my room.”

He fell quiet then, and she sensed he was revisiting something. “Luke?”

He shifted his weight. “Sorry. I was remembering my room. Haven’t thought about it in a long time.”

Isabella ran her finger through his hair. “Lots of toys, I bet.”

He snorted. “Yeah, all in the closet. Marcus had a fit if I trashed my room. Too much money spent on the decor.”

Isabella’s heart tightened for the boy who hadn’t been allowed to be a child. She sensed there was far more weight to his childhood than messing up his room. “Your dad didn’t play with you?”

Luke made another noise of disgust. “Marcus, play? He was working all the time. He’d been dirt poor his whole life, and he was working his ass off to become rich as hell. He opened his business right after I was born, and he was working 24/7 on that thing.”

“What about your mom?”

“My mom.” Luke’s voice completely changed, and she wished she could see his face. He sounded so tender, so soft. “She was the best. She was so different from Marcus. So loving. So gentle. She didn’t partake in his world, and we just did our own thing.”

Isabella’s throat tightened. “My mom was like that,” she said. “She was my best friend.”

His hand cupped her chin. “She died?”

“Yes.” Tears surged, and she had to blink them back.
“But we’re talking about you now, not me. Tell me about that night. What happened?”

“That night.” His voice had gone flat again and she felt his body stiffen against hers. “My mom woke me up. She was still in her nightgown and I could tell she was terrified.” There was no emotion in his voice, just a hard shield. “She said we had to go. I didn’t have time to pack. She grabbed my hand and we ran down the hall.” His voice grew distant, as if he were remembering. “I could hear an argument downstairs. Men yelling. My dad shouting. My dad never raised his voice. Ever. Scared the hell out of me to hear him yelling.”

Isabella could see it in her mind. The little boy racing down the massive hall in his pajamas, clinging to his mother. God, she’d lived with that kind of fear so much. It was awful.

“We got in her car and peeled out of there. My mom’s hands were shaking, and she wouldn’t tell me where we were gong. She just said Marcus had gotten into trouble and we needed to go away for a while.” There was an edge to his voice now, a bitterness.

She wanted to touch him so badly, to comfort him, but she didn’t dare. “And then what happened?”

“We hopped a plane to the Caribbean. Camped out on some beach. Had a little bungalow.”

Her heart began to race in fear of the ugly finale she sensed was coming.

“It was just before dawn that they came,” Luke said. This time, there was emotion in his voice. Pain. “I was out on the beach fishing for crabs. Should’ve been in the cabin with my mom, but I was tired of her crying and acting so scared, so I snuck out. Ditched her. Then a black jeep drove up. There were four of them. I could see the faces of only two, but I’d seen them in my dad’s
office before. I wasn’t supposed to talk to anyone my dad worked with. So I stayed in the water while they went into the cabin. Then I heard her scream.”

Isabella set her hand on his face, and he pulled away.

“I started running for the bungalow. She was screaming again and again. Not for me. Just screaming with agony. With pain. With suffering.”

Tears filled her eyes, but she said nothing, sensing he wanted no comfort or sympathy. She had to fist her hands to keep from reaching out for him.

“I got to the door and ran inside. She was on the floor, covered in gashes. So much blood. Jesus, there was so much blood.” His breath was coming heavier now, and his body was slick with sweat between her thighs. “I tackled the nearest one, but he just threw me aside. I landed next to my mother. She was gasping for air at this point, and she grabbed me and she told me she loved me. That she would always love me. And then she said he hadn’t meant to endanger her. That he hadn’t meant to do it. That I should forgive him and let him take care of me.”

“He?” The word stuck in her throat.

“Marcus.” Luke spat the word. “Before I could respond, before I could even say I loved her, one of the guys yanked me away, and I realized I’d fucked up. That I’d forgotten to protect her. But it was too late. He held me. Told me to watch. Told me to take the message back to Marcus.”

Isabella closed her eyes.

“And then he shot my mother in the head.”

Luke hadn’t felt the pain in decades.

Hadn’t smelled that metallic scent of blood.

Hadn’t heard the anguish in his mother’s voice.

And now it was back.

All back.

As if he were eight years old again.

He dropped his head, trying to find his protections again. To shut it down before it could debilitate him. Had to—

Isabella’s fingers brushed over his cheeks. The lightest touch. Barely there. So tender. So tentative. So fragile. “Luke.”

He didn’t move. He just lay there, concentrating on the feel of her skin against his. It felt good. So good. She was alive. She was life. She was courage. Somehow, he doubted Isabella would lie down and let someone work her over like his mother had. She would fight, and she wouldn’t stop until she’d won.

Isabella was different.

She tugged lightly on his chin and he allowed her to turn his head. She kissed him, and he froze at the sudden, intimate touch. A feathering and then it was gone.

A deep need roared to life inside him. “Isa.” He tunneled his fingers into her hair and tugged her face toward his. He needed to wipe away the memories with the touch of her flesh, the kiss of her lips, the courage that vibrated in her very core. He didn’t give her a chance to stop him or to doubt her own response. He just lowered his head and took her the way he wanted to.

Her mouth was hot and wet, and she kissed him back greedily. No hesitation. His body lurched at her instant response, and suddenly there was nothing stopping him. His kiss deepened, and she met his assault with equal fervor and desperation.

She slipped her arms around his neck, holding so tightly he was surprised by her strength. It felt good,
damn good, to have her hanging on to him, as if she were trying to get closer, to deepen the kiss. He ran his hand down her side. Her skin was so soft, her body firm and muscled, but with all the curves of a woman.

“Isa.” He growled her name and yanked her closer. Kissed her hard. No more seduction. Just a raw wanting. A need. For her. Her kiss and her touch were more powerful than the memories. Her kiss was about life and Isa was about survival.

She wasn’t weak and afraid like his mother had been.

Isa was a fighter. “You’re so strong,” he whispered, as he kissed his way down her neck. “You’re so sexy. So courageous.”

She tunneled her fingers in his hair. “I’m scared all the time.”

“Doesn’t matter.” He kissed her breast, then pressed his lips to her nipple.

She made a small noise and arched her back. “Except with you,” she whispered. “Sometimes you make me feel safe.”

“I swear I’ll keep you safe.” Luke kissed his way along her ribs, across her belly. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” How right those words felt. The idea of being responsible for another woman had been his worst nightmare for years, and yet it felt so right to claim Isabella’s safety as his own.

He needed that.

He needed to protect her.

To stop the cycle of violence with her.

She was his respite. Somehow, he knew if he could save her, the demons would be gone. “Isa.” He growled her name and took her mouth in his again. His kiss was ravenous now. A ruthless assault on her, and when she responded, his whole body amped up.

He needed her. Now. He needed to sink deep inside her, to make her his, to declare he was taking responsibility for her. “Isa.” He whispered her name as he kissed his way back down her body. To her belly. To the smooth lines of her skin. He stopped as he encountered bare skin where thick curls should be.

Blood surged to his cock as he kissed his way over the velvet skin. Waxing? Shit, he had no idea, but it was incredible. The feel of her bare skin against his lips. He kissed lower, found a small tuft of hair at the peak of her femininity, and then he kissed lower. Her skin was damp and warm. An incredible taste. Sweet and musky. A combination of softness and strength, just like Isabella.

“Luke.” His name was a whisper on her lips.

“Isa.” He moved his way back up her body and moved his hips between her legs. Positioned himself at the core of her entrance as the blanket slipped off his shoulders. He bent his head and kissed her as he began to nudge. “I need to be inside you.”

She opened her eyes and met his gaze. “I need you, too. Just for now. Just for today.”

Yes.
Intense burning filled him and he tensed himself to plunge inside.

“Hey!” The curtain flipped up and Inite poked her head into the small area. “The plane’s coming back! It looks like they’re going to drop someone on the boat!”

Luke swore and rolled off Isabella as Inite dropped the curtain. “Shit. I thought we had more time.” He grabbed jeans and a shirt off the shelf and tossed them at Isabella.

“The necklace. We can’t forget it.” She was already on her knees, yanking the black sweatshirt over her head.

Luke shoved his hand into his pants pocket and tossed her the jewels. She tucked it into her jeans while
Luke rifled through the dry clothes. By the time Luke had concluded that none of the men’s clothes were big enough, Isabella was already buttoning her fly. He jammed a dry T-shirt over his head, yanked on his wet jeans and then shoved his boots onto his feet.

The plane’s engine was louder now, a deafening roar. Maybe twenty feet away? “Shit! Come on!”

Isabella tugged on her boots. “Are we going over again?” Her voice was steely. Resolved. Determined. Not panicked.

“Yeah. I don’t want Inite and her husband to get in trouble—”

There was a sudden thump and the boat shook.

“
Shit.
” Luke grabbed Isabella’s hand and yanked her to the side, away from the curtain. “Get back.”

“What? I—”

“Stay back,” a male voice ordered, and Luke gritted his teeth at the familiar voice. “Head toward shore up ahead and then get out.”

Nate Sampson. He’d recognize Luke in an instant.

Luke grabbed Isabella’s wrist and pulled her behind him. Her skin was damp, and he could feel her pulse hammering in her wrist. “Nate doesn’t know you’re here,” she whispered. “You can still hide from him.”

There were no windows. No way out except through Nate.

A hand grabbed the curtain and yanked it back. Light flooded the cabin, exposing Isabella’s terrified face.

Luke took one look at her and didn’t hesitate. He ripped the curtain out of Nate’s hand, shoved Isabella into the shadows and then stepped out onto the deck of the boat, right into the gun of Nate Sampson.

Nate’s ruddy face went blank with shock as he met the gaze of the man who had once been his best friend. “
Adam?
”

Luke lunged for the gun. Nate jerked in response and fired off a shot as Luke came at him. Luke swore as the bullet grazed his shoulder and he dove to the right to evade a second shot.

Shit. Nate’s reactions had become much quicker since Luke had last known him. Eight years ago, the six-foot gap between them wouldn’t have given Nate enough time to pull his shit together, and Luke had been banking on that fact.

Not anymore.

Luke jumped up and spun around. Nate had both hands on the gun, which was aimed at Luke’s heart. Stalemate.

For a moment, neither man said a word, and Luke felt his shoulder burning. Nate’s face was pale, and his blue eyes were still wide with surprise, but Luke could see the wheels turning in his mind as he quickly assessed the situation. As he realized the value of what he had at gunpoint. Nate’s mind was sharper than it had been eight years ago, and his grip on the gun steadier.

Nate had been working on his skills.

Luke had been trying to forget his.

Nate looked the same. Shaved head trying to hide the effects of balding, narrow black eyes, a perpetual half growth on his face. His face harder now. More lined. No longer was there a quirk at the corner of his mouth ready to smile.

He wasn’t wearing Marcus’s standard-issue expensive coat and tie. He wore jeans and boots, and a heavy jacket. Ready for hunting a girl through Alaska.

Luke felt his upper lip curl as he stared into the face of the man who had once been his best friend. His only friend, really.

A man who had shot a pregnant woman only three days ago.

A path that would have been Luke’s if he’d stayed. But he felt no sympathy for the man who’d been sucked into Marcus’s hell. Just disgust. “Nate.”

Nate still looked shocked. “What the fuck are you doing here, Fie?”

Luke shrugged. Didn’t bother correcting Nate as to his real name. Yeah, he’d been tagged, but at the moment, Nate wasn’t connecting Luke Webber and Adam Fie, and the longer he kept it that way, the safer Cort and Kaylie would be. Though he had a bad suspicion that even though Nate had been blindsided by the appearance of Adam Fie, Leon and Marcus knew exactly whom they’d been hunting. It did show that Nate was on the bottom of the food chain, though. Leon or Marcus was running the show, for sure. “I’m just passing through,” Luke replied. “You?” He noted that the plane had gone up ahead and appeared to be banking for a landing just off to the right of the river.

“Looking for a girl.” Nate’s eyes flicked toward the canopy. “Seems like you got her first. Isa. Come out here.”

Luke tensed. “I’m alone.”

“Yeah? Then you won’t give a shit if I shoot a couple holes in the cabin?” Nate raised the gun at the cabin.

Inite squeaked in protest, and her husband pulled her against him, his hand over her mouth. She went still against him, but Luke knew Nate wouldn’t hesitate to use them for leverage if he thought it would work.

“There’s no girl,” Luke said quietly. He began to edge toward the side of the boat, as if he were going to try to make a break for it. If Nate believed Luke was trying to get away, he’d also believe there was no Isabella. Nate knew Adam well enough to know he’d never leave an innocent like Isabella behind to take the heat.

Nate raised the gun at Luke as he neared the edge. “You try it, and I’ll cap your ass. There’s no way I’m losing you.”

“You’ll have to shoot me, then.” Luke moved closer to the side, took his gaze off Nate long enough to inspect the water, as if trying to assess the best route.

But he kept his attention on Nate, waiting for the slightest hesitation. All he needed was one small opening. Luke nudged the anchor with the toe of his boot. Small. Maybe eight pounds. He hooked his boot under it and lifted it lightly as he pretended to look over toward the shore.

He knew he could flip that anchor into his hand and have it in the air moving toward Nate in a fraction of a second. All he needed was that opportunity. He’d underestimated Nate’s reaction time a moment ago.

Not again.

Luke could see Nate considering the options and debating who was worth more: Isabella or Adam.

He knew he was.

Except that Isabella still had the necklace. Fuck. He shouldn’t have given it back to her.

All Luke needed was for Nate to decide to check out the cabin and then he’d have his opportunity. So he shrugged. “Check it out for yourself. See if I’m telling the truth.”

Nate didn’t move, and Luke could see his friend trying to work over Luke’s words in his mind. He clearly knew Luke had a plan, but he couldn’t decide the best angle to combat it.

Luke grinned to himself. Maybe Nate hadn’t changed so much.

Nate narrowed his eyes. Then, without taking his gaze off Luke, he whipped his gun toward the cabin and began to shoot.

The first bullet tore through the wood inches from Isabella’s cheek. The wood exploded and splinters flew into her face.

Isabella dropped to the floor and covered her head as another bullet hit where she’d been standing. And another. And another. Rapid fire.

Light began to pepper the small cabin.

The next shot was lower, barely skimming her head.

Shit!

There was a sudden shout of fury. Light flooded the cabin as Luke burst through the opening and dove on top of her. He pulled her beneath him and his arms went around her head, cradling her with his body. His legs were on either side of hers, and his body was a human shield.

The gunshots stopped immediately.

“You okay?” Luke’s voice was harsh. Strained. “You hit?”

Tears filled her eyes at the sensation of his body around hers. At the realization he’d charged into a battlefield just to protect her. “I’m fine,” she managed.

Luke let out his breath and he dropped his head to hers.

For a moment, neither of them moved. She didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to dislodge him. He was so heavy, and it made her feel safe and protected. Cherished. Like she wasn’t alone in her battle anymore.

“You bringing her out or should I start shooting again?” Nate’s smug voice drifted through the curtain.

Luke swore, and he rolled off her. He pulled her to her feet, and blood seeped from his shoulder. “You’re hurt—”

He intercepted her hand on its way to his injury. “Listen to me.”

She caught the urgency in his voice. “What?”

“He’s going to try to get us into the plane. Stay back and out of the way, and run if you get the chance. I need to co-opt that flight. We can’t get on it. Do you understand?”

God, it felt good not to be trying to fight on her own. “What can I do?”

He gave her a grim look. “Not sure yet. Just stay alert and we’ll figure it out on the fly.” He narrowed her eyes. “You okay with that?”

“Absolutely.” Her whole life had been an on-the-fly survival trek. She’d never had enough stability to plan ahead.

“Then let’s go.” He squeezed her hand. “I need to pretend I don’t care about you, so don’t take offense.”

Pretend he didn’t care? Did that mean he did?

“Three seconds,” Nate warned.

Isabella tensed, remembering Roseann’s body.

“Isa?”

She quickly nodded. “Okay. I won’t take offense if you start saying nasty stuff about me.”

He grinned. “That’s my girl.” He kissed her forehead, then turned and walked out. “Stay behind me,” he said.

She followed Luke out into the sunlight.

Nate was waiting for them, and the sight of that gun trained on them made her stomach turn. Her legs began to tremble.

Nate smiled. “Isa. Nice to see you.”

Luke moved so he was between them.

Nate had his phone to his ear. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s me. Guess what I found.”

Luke swore and she felt him tense to go after Nate. She caught his arm as Nate closed his finger on his trigger and aimed at her heart. Not at Luke’s heart. At hers. Because she was a bigger threat than Luke?

That made no sense.

But even as she stood there, she sensed Luke stand down. Still ready, but no longer about to attack. That threat had been enough.

She looked up at him as Nate spoke into the phone.

“Adam Fie.” Nate sounded so smug. “In the flesh.”

Luke flinched as if he’d been struck, and then a dark anger settled on him. His shoulders were rigid, and the tendons in his forearms bulged from his skin. Eyes narrowed, jaw clenched, raw anger etched on his face.

Nate smiled at them. “Yeah, I’ll bring him in. Got the girl, too.” He paused and then grinned at Isabella. “I’ll have no trouble convincing her to tell me where the necklace is.” His smile faded. “Fine. I’ll let you do it.”

He clicked the phone off, and grinned at Luke. “Welcome back, Fie. There’s quite the party forming in your honor. You’ve been missed. You’ll be an asset to have back on the team.”

“I’m retired,” Luke bit out.

“On sabbatical.”

Isabella couldn’t believe Nate’s arrogant tone. He’d always had an edge she hadn’t liked, but he was even worse now. Like he was finally the man. The power. Staring into the visage of the man she’d known for six years, whom she’d trusted, Isabella couldn’t hold it in. “She was pregnant! How could you do that?”

Nate barely spared her a glance. “What are you talking about?”

“Roseann! My friend who you shot! She was pregnant!”

Nate shrugged. “She should have answered my questions then.”

Luke set his hand on Isabella’s arm. “Easy, hon,” he said quietly.

He sounded so gentle, but when she looked up at him, he was studying Nate intensely. Watching his reaction. Learning? “You bastard,” Luke said quietly. It wasn’t a comment.

It was a threat.

Nate scowled at him. “Hey, fuckup, you took off. It’s your fault we’re in this mess, and you’re just the guy we need to fix it.”

Luke narrowed his eyes. “What mess?”

One bead of sweat trickled down Nate’s brow. “That whole night got totally out of control. Marcus’s plan went to hell—”

“Marcus’s plan?” Isabella interrupted. “You guys kidnapped him!”

It was Nate’s turn to flinch. “Hell, no! That was how it was supposed to look. He’s fine. He’s had us searching for you to make sure you’re okay.”

Hope welled up in Isabella’s heart. “He’s okay?”

Luke took her arm. “Don’t trust him,” he said quietly. “He shot Roseann. That’s all I need to know.”

A capillary twitched beneath Nate’s right eye, and she heard Luke’s sharp intake of breath, as if that little twitch spoke volumes.

What had Luke just learned?

That twitch had spoken volumes to Luke.

Nate was telling the truth: there was a hell of a mess going on and Nate was nervous as shit about it.

Chaos created opportunity, and Luke was the king of taking advantage of opportunity. “You didn’t mean to shoot Roseann, did you?”

Nate shot Luke a look. “No.”

Luke nodded, pretending to give his friend sympathy. “Sucks.”

Suspicion flickered across Nate’s face as the boat bumped up against the shore. “Not so bad.”

Shit. He’d pushed it too hard. Difficult to think clearly with that fucking gun aimed at Isabella’s heart. He was afraid to push it until he had her out of range. Too many damn memories. He was getting it right this time. No screwups.

But he also needed to know what he was up against. “Who were you talking to?” Who knew Adam Fie had been found? Jesus.

He’d been found.

Instinct told him to kick ass and bolt. To disappear again. But his tight grip on Isabella’s arm was like a cement block wrapped around his ankle. She had to be
safe first. Had to be. Couldn’t leave her behind. Had to get her safe first.

But it wasn’t so easy anymore. Because Adam Fie was a wanted man, and his presence would bring all hell down on anyone associated with him.

Especially now that the necklace had been found.

With that new tidbit, Adam Fie and the information in his head were worth over five hundred million dollars.

Bloody hell.

Inite and her husband scrambled out of the boat onto the shore. Roger grabbed a long rope and backed away, still holding onto his boat. “We’re here.”

Nate waved his gun. “Out. Both of you.”

Luke caught Isabella’s arm and helped her over the edge of the craft to shore, keeping his body between her and the gun. His mind was still whirling as he strategized ways to get the gun back and get the plane. Chances were good he knew the pilot. A little help from a fellow Alaskan? Yeah, maybe.

But he couldn’t afford to get anyone shot.

“If Marcus is part of this, let me talk to him,” Isabella said to Nate, interrupting Luke’s thoughts.

Luke took her arm. “He’s playing you,” he muttered.

She shot a frantic look at him, and he saw the desperation in her eyes. The need to know Marcus was okay. The need to be reassured. “Don’t trust Nate,” he said quietly. “He shot Roseann,” he reminded her again. He’d seen the pain in her face. He knew that would register.

Her face paled. “Marcus would never have ordered that.”

Maybe. At this point, Luke wasn’t placing bets.

If Marcus had had any idea Adam Fie was findable, he’d have done anything to get him back.

Isabella had found Luke. She worked for Marcus.

Something was off.

He glanced over at Isabella as he guided her through the trees toward the roar of the plane up ahead. Had she been a trap sent to snare him?

She looked up at him, and he saw the worry in her eyes. The fear. Blood seeping through her shirt on her shoulder from the bullet that Doc had removed.

And he knew.

She may have been set up, but she hadn’t been a trap. Not intentionally.

He trusted her.

The thought shook him. He trusted rarely, and he was a fool to trust someone who was from his old world, who thought Marcus was a god.

But he did. And once he trusted someone, she was in.

Isabella’s eyebrows went up, as if she read something in his eyes. “Luke?”

He shook his head. “Be ready,” he whispered.