Emerald Fire (23 page)

“Let her go,” Finn demanded.

Jud hesitated, then took another step backward, dragging her with him. He had no weapon that Chloe knew of, which meant she was his only protection from Finn and the knife. He wouldn’t release her willingly.

“If you don’t want to die,” Finn said with fatal intensity, “then release her now.”

Something about the deadly tone of Finn’s voice must have registered with Jud. His grip loosened, and she was suddenly shoved forward. She tried to catch herself but her arms were completely numb and she stumbled, falling forward.

Finn caught her as Jud raced down the alley.

“It’s all right,” he said with a catch in his voice. “I’ve got you, Chloe.”

Relief nearly overwhelmed her. “What took you so long?”

The marketplace was close to the resort; they’d walked there this morning. But that wasn’t an option with angry pirates set on revenge prowling the grounds. Finn hailed them a cab. If anyone planned on following them, they’d be in for a merry chase.

They jumped in the back seat and Finn shouted to the driver a location in the opposite direction of the resort. The cabbie sped off and Finn sat back. “Tell me they weren’t the damn pirates?” he asked Chloe.

She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes, too keyed-up to actually relax, but shaken enough to need a moment to gain some sort of control. “The man you tackled is Hosea.” Talking hurt her throat, and her voice sounded an octave lower than normal. “I think he’s the leader of the Boca Chica gang.”

His expression darkened. “How the hell did they find us?”

She rolled her head to look at him. “Something about radio traffic.”

Finn frowned and reached over to lightly touch her neck. Based on his furious expression, she figured it was already bruising. He brushed the palm of his hand across her cheek, then tugged her closer, resting his forehead on hers. “When I saw what was happening in that alley,” he whispered, “I wanted to kill the bastard.”

She shivered. That had been too close. If not for Finn, she very well could’ve died in that dank, sad little courtyard.

“Thank you for coming,” she said quietly.

He kissed her softly, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “I would’ve torn the place apart to find you.”

She couldn’t speak around the lump forming in her throat and, to her horror, she felt tears well up in her eyes. She could stand strong against a Caribbean pirate, but if Finn kissed her, she fell apart.

It was just reaction setting in, that was all. She took a deep breath and wiped a shaking hand across her eyes. Then remembered Finn’s injury.

She pushed forward on the seat. “You were bleeding,” she said urgently, immediately reaching for his now-ruined shirt and lifting it. A thin red line about three inches long marked his side, but it wasn’t deep.

He grabbed her hands and pulled her to his good side. “I’m fine, Chloe. You can patch me up back at the room.”

She nodded and rested a tired head against his shoulder, closing her eyes again as relief washed through her. Right then and there she sent up a quick prayer of thanks for both their lives.

Finn’s arms tightened around her. “Tell me what they said to you.”

What she wouldn’t give for a bottle of water right now, maybe an aspirin, something to soothe the ache in her throat. But she tried to explain, talking over the discomfort. “Hosea was…furious…that we sank the
Emerald Fire,
” she managed to get out. “Said we owed him two-million dollars to cover his losses.”

Finn rested his cheek against the top of her head and heaved a sigh that sounded like inevitability. “He’s not going to quit. We probably don’t have much time before he strikes again.” He said it with finality, as though it were a sure thing.

It probably was. Hosea had now been beaten twice by Finn. That wasn’t something the pirate was going to let pass.

Finn sat up and gave new directions to the cabbie, sending them back to the resort. “First thing we have to do is get off this island,” he said. “Did Hosea ever call you by name?”

She frowned, thinking back, then shook her head. “No. Why?”

“If we’re lucky, there’s a slim chance he doesn’t know who we are just yet. That may buy us some time.”

“Yet” being the key word. Two-million dollars was a lot of incentive for anyone, especially a pirate, to gather information. It probably wouldn’t take long to connect them with Lisa.

The cab pulled up to the main entrance of the Grand Lucayan Resort, and they got out. Finn paid the driver cash through the window, and they hurried into the elegant lobby and straight for the elevators. As they rode to the sixth floor, Chloe realized she carried a bag. Her new sundresses. The vague memory of snatching the bag off the ground as they ran floated across her mind. Feminine instinct, reward for surviving, whatever it was called, she was glad they hadn’t become a casualty of the attack.

Uncle Jonathan was waiting for them when they entered the main suite. That he was up and about was a great sign. He was still pale and rough about the edges, and he sported a three-day growth of beard, but he looked able enough to get on a plane and go home. He took one glance at them when they walked through the door and immediately rose from the couch.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Our pirate friends found us,” Finn said.

“Impossible,” Uncle Jon said. “We were picked up in the middle of a storm and dropped off in the Bahamas, well away from the Turks and Caicos.”

Chloe dropped her bag on the desk and hugged her uncle. “They were monitoring radio traffic, searching for us. They must’ve heard the
Seagrove’s
call to shore when we were rescued.”

Uncle Jon held her at arm’s length, staring at the damage to her throat with a concerned frown. “What the hell did they do?”

Chloe and Finn took turns explaining—mostly Finn as she still sounded a bit raspy—while they were gathering what few things they had and cramming them into their now well-worn duffle bag.

She disappeared into the bathroom for a quick inspection of her neck. Reaching behind her, she unclasped the necklace Finn gave her and looked it over carefully. It had dried blood on the seashells, but it wasn’t hurt. She ran some warm water and rinsed the shells, lightly rubbing to get it clean. She then pressed it between two towels to dry. Only then did she tend to her neck, soaking a washcloth in warm water and bathing the scratches on her skin. It wasn’t as bad as she expected. The warm cloth was soothing, and she rinsed again, warmer this time, and rubbed the back of her neck. A long hot shower would be heaven right now.

Instead, she put the necklace back on, grabbed the few personal items she’d bought at the gift shop, and headed back into the suite.

“So this Hosea guy knew about the journal?” Uncle Jon asked her as she re-entered the room and deposited everything into the bag.

“He knew,” Chloe said. “Claimed the pirate who stabbed you told him we were looking for a treasure.”

“The sorry bastard,” her uncle muttered as he absently rubbed his bandaged thigh.

“Your turn,” she said to Finn as she grabbed his hand and led him to the kitchenette, snagging the bag of medical supplies on the way. As Chloe rinsed the cloth in warm water, he pulled off the sliced-up shirt. She turned back to bare chest and paused. Her eyes roamed over the contour of muscle and shadow to the light sprinkling of hair that narrowed and disappeared into the waistband of his jeans. The man could be disheveled, bruised, in desperate need of a shave, and still manage to radiate sexy.

She lifted her eyes to his, saw the slight lifting of one brow and the invitation it offered. Heat filled her cheeks, and she gave herself a mental shake, forcing her attention back to doctoring him up.

She rested one hand against his abs and used the other to cleanse the angry red slice on his side. She wasn’t brave enough to look up again, despite the warm hand that came up to cover hers and squeeze.

Finn breathed a soft laugh at her cowardice, then spoke over his shoulder to her uncle. “Hosea is demanding money, said that Lisa only paid him half the fee.”

“He actually expects us to pay the other half of her blood money?” Uncle Jon asked incredulously. “The payment for killing Mike and Brett?”

Chloe thought the situation was bad enough, but when put like that, it sounded even worse. And there was more, not that she wanted to share. He needed to hear about Lisa, but she didn’t want pile on to his heartache.

“You might as well tell him,” Finn said.

She frowned and grabbed the bottle of peroxide they’d bought for Uncle Jon’s injury. She soaked a cotton ball and pressed it against Finn’s wound. He hissed at the sting, but didn’t complain.

Her uncle had stood and limped his way closer. “Tell me what?”

When she still didn’t answer, Finn said, “He claimed the other half would come once Boston Marine paid her.”

Her uncle’s jaw hardened. Chloe tossed the used cotton balls in the trash and focused on patting Finn dry with sterile gauze and gave up the truth. “Hosea said we owe him two-million to compensate for his loss when we sank the yacht.”

“That’s preposterous!” Jonathan roared.

“I agree,” Finn said. “We escaped today, but he’ll be looking for us. It’s safe to assume they know Lisa lives in Boston and we’re somehow connected. They’ll be watching the airport.”

“It probably won’t take him long to figure out who we are,” Chloe said as she applied an antibiotic ointment to Finn’s wound. “They may already know.”

“It also means they’ll go after Lisa.” Uncle Jon sat down on a barstool at the kitchen island, like the weight of that realization was too heavy.

And Lisa was in for a rough ride if they found her. There were no words of comfort for that, so Chloe just silently bandaged Finn’s side and packed the medical supplies back into the plastic grocery bag. At the rate things were going, it might be time to invest in a serious first aid kit.

“I can’t believe she tried to have me killed.” Her uncle sat there staring at nothing, lost in his own misery. But it was a burden of truth all three of them shared.

“I’m so sorry, Uncle Jon.”

He sighed heavily and shook his head. “I’m the one who is sorry. I married her. All of this is my fault.”

She immediately circled the kitchen island and came up behind her uncle, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Don’t say that. Don’t accept responsibility for her actions.”

He patted her hands and lowered his head with a drawn out sigh. “Even after all she’s done, the thought of the pirates getting their hands on her scares me. She needs to pay for her crimes, but not that way.”

Chloe agreed. They would do some serious damage. Hosea might even sell her, like he threatened to do to her. She disliked her step-aunt with an intensity that bordered on hate, but she wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

“I can call a detective friend who owes me a favor,” Finn said as he pulled on a Lucayan Resort polo shirt. “I’ll have him watch over her, just in case. And I can ask him to start gathering proof against her.”

Her uncle nodded in agreement and rose from the barstool. “I’ll call Sam Brady. Get him to arrange for a charter plane since the airport isn’t safe.” Jonathan limped over to the media center and placed the call.

Finn moved over to Chloe and held out a hand. Without hesitation, she accepted it, and he pulled her up into his arms. It was a comforting gesture, and she nestled against his chest with a sigh, the warmth of his body quieting her nerves.

The words she heard this morning floated across her memory.
That is a man in love.
Her fingers caressed the tiny seashells at her neck. No, she doubted that was true. So why was she thinking about it? Wondering what it would be like to be loved by a man like Finnegan Kane?

“We’ll get through this, Chloe.”

She smiled. He’d said that once before, in the dinghy while a tropical storm raged over their heads. She believed him then and she believed him now.

“Plane will be ready in one hour,” Uncle Jon said after he hung up. “Pack fast. It’s time to get off this rock.”

Seven hours later, a small twin-engine Learjet landed smoothly at a private hanger just outside of Mystic, Connecticut. After the wild ride of the last several days, the flight north was blissfully quiet and uneventful, and Finn soaked up the luxury like a dry sponge. Jonathan had swallowed a pain pill shortly after takeoff and was out for the duration. Chloe dozed off and on in the seat beside Finn as he read the journal for the second time, carefully studying each page. He had jotted down notes and asked the occasional question whenever she stirred, but got no closer to solving the mystery of the emeralds’ location.

Harder still was the mystery of the woman who sat beside him. She had turned him upside down since the day she stormed into his world. For years he’d been wrapped up in all things NorthStar. Every thought, action, and decision had been for the benefit of the place. Now Chloe had only to walk into a room, and he became distracted.

Even more alarming was her connection to his family home. She’d never been to NorthStar, never laid eyes on the first building. Yet she was a part of it, linked in a way he didn’t understand. It all came back to the journal. Somehow, someway, theirs was a shared history. The prospect fascinated him; she fascinated him. The problem was that he struggled to separate the two. In a short span of days, Chloe had become every bit as important to him as NorthStar. He liked her. More than that, he wanted her. He’d had his share of casual relationships and one-night stands and had never needed anything more. But one taste of Chloe, and he couldn’t think straight.

The logical side of him said this was a serious problem. It scared him. He had no intention of jeopardizing all he’d accomplished by letting an infatuation rule his common sense.

Except he’d been telling himself that since the day he met her, and it hadn’t changed a thing. In fact, his curiosity had only gotten worse since he’d read that blasted journal. Because whether the journal held a secret to riches or not, there were forces of evil who believed it did, and they were on the attack. Pirates and murdering soon-to-be-ex-wives weren’t something he could leave Chloe to face alone.