Editor's Choice Volume I - Slow summer Kisses, Kilts & kraken, Negotiating point (12 page)

Magnus stood, wiping his face with his sleeve and pulled Genny to her feet beside him. He looked at Tom, Melody and Connor, who’d gathered around, along with his own people. “Let’s go inside. I believe there are things we need to discuss.” He clutched Geneva’s hand like a lifeline as they all trudged into the house.

In the library, Magnus slammed the door behind them and yanked Geneva into his arms, ignoring the others. He held her tightly, his face buried in her curls. His voice cracked. “I’ve driven another soul to suicide. How do I live with myself after that?”

She held him close, offering more comfort than he’d ever known. “Quentin made his own choices. And about Isobel…” Then she told him that Cat and Edda had admitted to killing his wife and child. “Even then, she was looking to her future as lady of Torkholm, I think. She wasn’t right, Magnus. None of them were fully sane. I’m sorry.” She hiccupped.

So was Magnus. His grief and guilt would be with him a long, long time. But perhaps, now, he’d have love to help him through it. “You said that before. Ah, Genny, I can’t be sorry you’re in one piece. Especially not if—well, that’s a talk for later. Right now I only have one more question.” He plopped her into a chair and dropped to one knee in front of her. “Geneva MacKay, will you marry me—stay here on Torkholm as both physician and wife?”

“Yes.” She launched herself to the floor and into his arms.

The room exploded in applause and tears, hugs and handshakes.

After things calmed, Magnus sat and drew Geneva down onto his lap. “Now tell me, how did you end up at the circle?”

With help from Alice and Ian, Geneva explained Alice’s discovery, their hike to the circle and the spell she’d reflected. “I felt the power of Torkholm—I don’t know why, Magnus, but your island helped me. My injuries from earlier have all healed completely.”

Magnus exchanged a pointed glance with his uncle. “I don’t know, love. I’m only glad the magick was there to save you. I can’t believe Quentin, of all people. He’d have been laird in time, anyway, but he was always urging me to marry.”

“Perhaps he didn’t understand what she was doing,” Rannulf said. “He wouldn’t be the first man blinded by his woman’s desires. Or maybe he just didn’t want to wait.”

“I think,” Geneva said slowly, “that he might have believed what he said about technology and magick. I found some books in the library with his name on them—he was a devout Luddite. He may have been trying to protect you the only way he knew how—by convincing you the magick was angry at your introducing steam and gas power to the island.”

“Aye.” It was a bit of hope to cling to that Quentin might have not tried to kill him outright. His cousin’s betrayal and death hurt more than a gunshot, but at least Geneva was safe and willing to stay beside him forever.

“I didn’t mean to kill them, Magnus. I’m a doctor, and now I’ve murdered. How do I live with that?” She sniffed into his shirt.

“No. You only did what had to be done. ’Twas they who cast the killing spell, and the island itself that reflected it. All you did was save yourself. There’s no crime in that.” He hoped someday she’d be able to accept that. Perhaps…
Aye. Tell her,
the magick whispered. To hell with their audience.

He tipped up her chin to look into her eyes. “It may not have been only yourself you were protecting, you know. My uncle told me today that sometimes the island grants its power to an heir—even when the heir has yet to be born. When she was carrying me, my mother healed like the lairds do.”

She sat up so swiftly her head bumped his chin. “What? Are you suggesting I might be pregnant? We were careful…” Her face burrowed back into his shirt. “Blast it. Even the best precautions can fail. Of course it’s possible.”

Her brother coughed loudly.

“Oh, shut up, Connor.” Her brow wrinkled as she looked up at Magnus. “Nonetheless, it would be quite a feat for the magick to tell and to act this soon. Maybe it has nothing to do with a child. Perhaps whatever force controls the magick sensed somehow that I was trying to protect you.”

“Perhaps.” He kissed her ear. “I wouldn’t mind, you know. Would you? I intend to marry you, regardless.”

She shook her head. “I never thought I’d have the opportunity to have children, but I’d love one or two. Even if the timing makes some of the gossips start counting on their fingers.”

Rannulf coughed. “About that, lad. I may have left out a bit of information, just to give you a much-needed kick in the arse. Your mother had the power long before you were conceived. From the moment your father fell in love with her, it seemed the land approved. She broke an arm at sixteen, before they were even wed, and it healed in two days. You didn’t come along for another four years.”

“Isobel didn’t…” Of course not. He hadn’t loved Isobel, and she hadn’t loved him. No wonder the magick had never accepted her. He kissed Geneva again. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll find out soon enough, the same as any other couple. In the meantime we can keep trying.”

She beamed up at him, ignoring her brother’s low growl. “Aye.”

“And now,” Rannulf said, turning to Alice who sat beside him on the sofa. “I’m too old and sore for this kneeling business, but I’m asking you, Alice, if you’ll have me as a husband. I’m an old man who never thought to find love again, but you’ve stolen my heart. I’ll go with you to Mull, if that’s what it takes.”

Alice’s lip trembled as she grinned. “I’ll have you. I love you, too, old man or not. It took me thirty years to find the love of my life. I’ve no intention of letting you go.” She blinked. “You know I can’t have children, but at our age, I don’t suppose that matters.”

Rannulf laughed and dragged her onto his lap for a thorough kiss. “Of course you can. We just won’t start from scratch. Ye can have a share in all three of mine.”

“Three?” Magnus looked at Rannulf. “Is there something you never told me, uncle?”

Rannulf snorted and counted on his fingers. “Catherine. Rodney. Magnus. Are you daft, lad? Of course I consider you my own. I raised you, didn’t I?”

“Aye, you did.” Magnus laughed. “Well, Alice, will you accept the lot of us?”

“Grandchildren, too—five of them, so far.” Rannulf wiggled his eyebrows at Magnus and Geneva. “More soon, unless I miss my guess.”

“I accept.” Alice kissed him hard. “And I think they need us right here, don’t you? I’ve no reason to return to Mull, other than to pack.”

“I’ll have to go to Edinburgh, to close down my practice,” Geneva said. “Will you mind, Magnus?”

“Aye, but you’ll be worth the wait.”

Epilogue

Torkholm, six weeks later

Geneva and Magnus stood at the newly macadamized airship pad in the castle park and waved goodbye to her parents and grandparents, who had come for the wedding. Alice and Rannulf had gone to Paris for their own honeymoon, leaving the younger newlyweds to see off the last of the guests. Geneva had settled in quickly to her new life, as wife, lady of the manor and doctor for the people of the island. While she missed the bustle of the city now and then, she wouldn’t have things any other way. Where Magnus was, there was home.

“Alice and my mother took to each other like long-lost sisters.” As the airship disappeared from view, Geneva laughed at the antics of two Scottish deerhound puppies near her feet, wedding gifts from her grandfather, who raised the rare Highland breed. “Mother and Melody have both promised to visit over the Christmas holidays, and with the new teletext cable, we’ll be able to communicate anytime we like.” The cable had been laid just before their wedding, a week earlier.

“I’m sure they’ll visit often. And you can take the airship to see them now and then. At least for the time being.” He squeezed her hand.

“We’ll see.” Geneva hadn’t, as it turned out, been expecting, which meant she’d been more able to come and go than she might be later. That had made it easier to pack up her belongings and practice for her move to Torkholm.

Now though—well, she wasn’t absolutely positive yet, so she hadn’t said anything to Magnus. They were so in tune that she suspected he knew anyway. She was sure he’d be delighted, and a child would go a long way to help him cope with his losses. His nightmares had eased in the last few weeks, but weren’t totally gone. “I’m in no hurry to go anywhere.” She looked up into his beautiful eyes and smiled. “Except perhaps to our room. I’m feeling suddenly sleepy—I think I need an afternoon nap.”

“Funny, I think I need one too.” With that, Magnus whistled to the pups and took Geneva’s hand. Together, the laird and his lady ran all the way to their chamber.

* * * * *

About the Author

Author of more than forty popular books and novellas in paranormal, historical and erotic romance, Cindy Spencer Pape is an avid reader of romance, fantasy, mystery and even more romance. According to
The Romance Studio,
her plots are “full of twists and turns that keep the reader poised at the edge of their seat.”
Joyfully Reviewed
said her “colorful characters and plot building surprises kept me spellbound,” and
Romantic Times
magazine says her “characters are appealing, and passionate sex leads to a satisfying romance.”

Cindy firmly believes in happily ever after. Married for more than twenty-five years to her own, sometimes-kilted hero, she lives in southern Michigan with him and two college-age sons, along with an ever-changing menagerie of pets. Cindy has been, among other things, a banker, a teacher and an elected politician, but mostly an environmental educator, though now she is lucky enough to write full-time. Her degrees in zoology and animal behavior
almost
help her comprehend the three male humans who share her household.

Negotiating Point
By Adrienne Giordano

As a hostage negotiator for Taylor Security, Gavin Sheppard has just been given the toughest assignment of his career: securing the release of his boss’s pregnant wife. He’s uneasy negotiating a rescue without the involvement of the police, but with the life of a woman and her unborn child on the line there’s no time to play by the rules. He’ll have to work closely with the one woman who could prove to be a distraction…

Janet Fink, the agency’s tech geek, is conflicted about working alongside the man she’s irresistibly attracted to. Though she’s determined not to risk her career by getting involved with a coworker, especially a superior, she can’t forget the passionate kiss they once shared…

With the kidnappers’ deadline fast approaching, Gavin and Janet must combine their skills to bring the missing woman home alive. But their undeniable chemistry is making it difficult to keep their relationship purely professional…

25,000 words

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

About the Author

Chapter One

At 10:20 a.m. Gavin stepped into Mike Taylor’s office and found his boss sitting at his pristine, glass-topped desk, his sleeves rolled to his elbows and his dark hair sticking up in the back.

He checked his watch. Yep. 10:20.

I’m screwed.

The man’s appearance was typically as neat as his office. His hair sticking up? This early? In Mike’s OCD world? Unacceptable.

Whatever Gavin had been summoned for had to be a disaster. Stabbing pin pricks crawled up his neck. He shifted his gaze left. Vic Andrews, Taylor Security’s executive vice president, leaned against the window sill with his arms crossed, eyes narrowed and a general I’m-pissed-off-at-the-world aura.

Screwed.

Gavin stepped forward. “What’s up?”

Mike held his hands prayerlike in front of him, his fingers mashed together until his veins popped.

Screwed in a big way.

Vic boosted off the window sill. “Roxann has been kidnapped.”

Bam!
Forget the warm-up. Gavin threw his shoulders back and those pin pricks turned to dagger stabs. Had he heard right? He shifted to Mike. “Your Roxann?”

Mike nodded.

“Have they made contact? Ransom?”

“Not yet. I got a call a few minutes ago. They said no cops and to expect communication in the next hour.”

“Where’d they grab her?”

Mike looked down, shook his head and scrubbed his hands over his face. “I don’t know. We left together this morning. She was heading to the lake house to get ready for the Fourth of July party on Saturday. I’ve got Gizmo getting me a trace on her car.”

That wouldn’t do them any good. Even the most inexperienced kidnapper would know a high-end Mercedes would have factory-installed tracking. Couple that with the car being owned by the man who ran not only Chicago’s, but one of the nation’s most elite private security companies and it was a no-brainer they’d be able to locate the car. The kidnappers probably abandoned it somewhere. Mike knew that and Gavin wouldn’t voice it.

“Are you considering calling the FBI?”

Vic moved to the side of the desk. “No feds.”

Gavin ignored him. “Mike?”

“No FBI.”

Lost that round.

“The FBI,” Mike continued, “has to play by the rules. We don’t. I want my wife back without having to deal with red tape.”

“Damn straight,” Vic added. “We got everything we need. We find her and we go in and get her. End of story.”

Gavin finally looked at him. “End of story? What’s wrong with you? You and your merry men charging in there with your flash bangs and weapons will escalate the situation.”

“Screw that,” Vic said. “These assholes won’t know what hit them. Once we find her, we’ll be in there so fast they won’t have time to draw on us. Besides, what the hell do we need the FBI for when we have you?”

Gavin breathed deep. A sound argument considering, prior to six months ago, he’d spent the last twelve years as an FBI hostage negotiator. “Has it occurred to you that we are not in some war-torn country? You’re talking about doing a takedown on U.S. soil. In case you weren’t aware, if someone gets shot, there are laws against that sort of thing.”

Mike put both hands up. “Enough.” He dragged his gaze from Vic to Gavin. “Look, Gavin, all due respect, I’m not calling the feds.”

“Thank you,” Vic said.

“But we’re not going tactical either.
Yet.
Gavin will negotiate her release.”

There it was. The assignment of his career.

“Mike,” Vic said. “Why waste time trying to head-shrink our way out of this?”

Jab number one. Gavin folded his arms, let the anger inside flash and burn before reacting. Considering Vic was married to Mike’s sister and his own emotions were likely in play, he’d give him a pass on the head-shrinker comment. “We’re not
head-shrinking.
We don’t know who these people are or what they want. Let’s figure that out and then make a plan.”

A ding sounded from Mike’s email. He spun to the laptop, shook the mouse and stared at the screen. The muscle in his jaw throbbed. “Here it is.”

Gavin swung around the desk to read over Mike’s shoulder. Within the email was a link. No message. Mike clicked the link before Gavin could warn him about possible computer viruses. Not a top priority when the man’s wife had been kidnapped.

A video popped on the screen and Roxann’s classically beautiful face—the blue eyes, the perfect cheekbones, the blond hair, appeared. The background was a white wall, no markings or hanging artwork. No intel there.

Before clicking the play arrow, Mike blew out a heaving breath that sounded like it had stripped him raw. Probably had.

Gavin touched his shoulder. “Let me do this. Take a walk or something.”

Mike shook him off, clicked the button and they watched Roxann glance beyond the camera. “Now?” she said.

True to her legendary control—or maybe it was her experience with running a major market newspaper—her voice stayed steady and direct. Roxann Taylor might be a rock star when it came to putting on a brave face, but he’d spent last weekend with this couple. He’d seen her relax and banter with her husband over his goading, teasing comments. The stoic person on this video was indicative of Roxann Taylor the controlled executive. Not Roxann Taylor the loving wife.

That alone ripped into Gavin and his chest ached for the man sitting in front of him.

Someone must have signaled Roxann because she looked down, her blond hair falling in front of her face as she read from notes. The video had a grainy quality to it. Cell phone. Had to be.

“My captors are part of the Freedom Today group. Their leader, the most-esteemed Jackson Spelling, is wrongly incarcerated for plotting to murder a judge. Mr. Spelling is innocent and the Freedom Today group demands his release. Further, the group expects my husband to use his government contacts to help with Mr. Spelling’s release. The group also demands that my newspaper run a front-page story on Mr. Spelling’s wrongful conviction. You will be contacted again at noon today with instructions.”

The screen went black. A breath-stealing silence hung heavy in the room, the energy shot through with nervous tension. “Play it again.”

Vic waved a hand, the white of his dress shirt flashing in Gavin’s peripheral vision. “Mike, go for a walk. We’ll deal with this.”

“I’m fine.”

But he didn’t move and they continued to stare at him, waiting for him to play the video. Gavin followed Mike’s gaze to a solid crystal paperweight that looked heavy enough to split someone’s head.

Gavin reached for the rounded crystal which, indeed, packed some heft and handed it to his boss, who glanced up at him, his eyes hard.
Yes, I’ve “head-shrinked” you.
“Go for it. Let loose so you can focus.”

With that, Mike jumped out of his chair and launched the paperweight against the wall with the force of a ninety-mile-per-hour fastball. Upon its booming impact, the paperweight shattered, spraying shards of pulverized glass over the sofa and floor. Helluva mess there. “Better?”

Mike sucked in air, held it a minute and let it go. “Yes.”

“Good. Play that video again.”

Mike clicked the button and the video started. Nothing. No car horns. No television or radio in the background. Just Roxann and a drab off-white wall.

“Okay,” Gavin said. “Can I bring Janet in on this?”

Janet Fink. Resident tech geek. The woman could do things with computers that nearly gave him an orgasm.

“Of course,” Mike said. “We’ll use every asset we have.”

Gavin reached for the desk phone and dialed.

“Hi, Michael,” Janet said.

“It’s Gavin. In Mike’s office. Can you get here ASAP?”

“On my way.”

Two minutes later she rushed through the door, her hesitant gaze blazing around the room to the three of them.
Welcome to the nightmare.
She must have sprinted up the two flights of stairs, but her shoulder-length honey-blond hair remained secure in a hair clip. The look only accentuated her softly rounded face and big brown eyes. She wore a sleeveless blouse and snug-fitting pants that emphasized her petite frame. The woman couldn’t be more than 105 pounds.

Avoiding his gaze, she turned to Mike still sitting at his desk. “What’s happening?”

Gavin took that one. “We have a situation. Roxann has been kidnapped.”

Janet’s dark eyes finally shifted to him.
“Kidnapped?”

No one answered. She accepted the silence as affirmation and faced Mike. “My God. I’m so sorry. What can I do?”

Gavin waved her behind the desk. “Take a look at this video. I think they used a cell phone. Can you get me the number and location?”

She slid around the desk and Mike signaled her to his chair. “Watch the whole thing. We’re gonna need you to work your contacts for info on this group.”

“While she’s doing that,” Gavin said, “how do you want to handle the request about the story in the
Banner?
”

Mike shook his head. “Roxi would never go for that.”

“Not a chance.” This from Vic. “She won’t be bullied into a story.”

“Do the executives at the
Banner
know about this?” Gavin asked.

“Only her secretary. Rox was supposed to stop at the office on the way to the lake. When she didn’t show, Mrs. Mackey called me. I had to tell her.”

Vic straightened. “Let’s wait for the call and tell them we’re sending a reporter. We’ll send one of our guys in. He can report back and we move. Done deal.”

Again with going tactical.
Pain in the ass.

“No,” Gavin said. “You want to send one of your guys in, fine. I can use the intel for negotiations.”

“Listen, head-shrinker.” Vic jabbed his finger. “I’m not dicking around with you. We need to get her out of there.”

Yeah, hello.
The head-shrinker thing was starting to piss him off. That would be a fight for later though. “I’m not risking her getting hurt when you knuckle-draggers bust in there and cause panic. We have no idea what we’re dealing with. We don’t know what kind of weapons they have or if they’re capable of using them. Let me get information first.”

If the knuckle-dragger comment had even dented Vic’s buzz-cut blond head, it didn’t show. Mike once again held his hands to them. “Gavin is right. We need information. Let’s get that and decide on a plan.”

“Mike!” Vic hollered.

Mike spun on him and, despite being a few inches shorter than Vic, he had a way of getting large with people. “We’re doing it Gavin’s way. She’s pregnant. I can’t take a chance.”

And, whoa, everyone stopped moving. Including maybe Gavin’s heart.

“Holy shit,” Vic said.

Mike puffed out his cheeks and blew air. “I didn’t want to tell you that way. I found out this morning. We wanted to tell everyone this weekend.”

* * *

Janet’s fingers trembled as they flew over the keyboard. What did one say to a man who found out he would be a father on the same day of his wife’s kidnapping?

Congratulations?

I’m sorry?

No idea. But she could keep working this video and hope the owner didn’t turn off the phone’s geotagging function. Geotags would tell them where the video was shot and that was what she needed.

“Jesus, Mike,” Vic said.

Janet glanced up at him, hoping he wouldn’t be his typical free-wheeling self and mouth off. She went back to the screen in front of her.
Come to Mama.
“Got it!”

“Where?” Vic said.

“Keep your shorts on, boss, and I’ll get an address.” She went to a map, typed in the long and lat. “Denson, Illinois. By Kankakee. Major farm country there.” She jotted the address.

Vic snatched the paper from her. “I’ll check it out.”

“Let’s not do anything stupid,” Mike said. “I’d go with you but the next call will come soon.”

“I’m good. If I can verify she’s there, we’ll know where to start and head-shrinker here can do his thing.”

Janet sighed. “You know, that head-shrinker thing is just rude.”

His response was an out-of-character—at least when it came to her—glare and she curled her toes inside her ballet slipper shoes.

“Take it easy, girlfriend. We’re all on the same team. Besides, he can take it.”

With that, Vic walked out leaving Michael shaking his head. “Gavin—”

“Forget it, Mike. Bigger things to mess with here. Vic and I will work it out. Eventually. Janet, if we confirm her location, we’ll set up a command post and you’ll need to get us wired.”

“No problem. I’ll head downstairs and get what we’ll need. I’ll make calls, see who knows what about this Freedom Today group. If they’re a major player, my contacts at the CIA will have them on a list somewhere.”

* * *

An hour later, with Vic on speakerphone, Gavin stood next to Mike’s desk counting down the eighteen minutes until their next communication from the kidnappers. Janet sat in one of the leather guest chairs in front of the desk, notepad in hand.

“What have you got?” Mike asked Vic.

“It’s a farmhouse. There’s a car parked in the driveway. No activity outside. Shades are pulled. I got a plate number for the car. And relax, head-shrinker, I didn’t go near the house.”

Pain in the ass.
“So, no way to tell if Roxann is inside?”

“No.”

Janet raised her hand to get their attention. “When they call, why don’t we have Mike ask to speak to Rox, then I can get a location for the phone. If the address is a match for the farmhouse, we know that’s where she is.”

“Beautiful,” Vic said.

Love this woman.
Maybe they’d get Roxann and her unborn baby released unharmed. “Vic, check the area for somewhere to set up a command post.”

“On it.”

“We’ll keep you posted.” Mike disconnected, ran his hands over his face and sat back. “Now we wait?”

Gavin nodded. “Now we wait.” He turned to Janet. “How confident are you that you can grab the phone’s location?”

She glanced at Mike, then back to Gavin. “In my downtime, I’ve hacked into the top three cell carrier’s systems. If the phone is part of one of their networks, I can get its location. I retrieved the number from when they sent the video. All I’d have to do this time is check the location of the phone they’re talking on and make sure it matches.”