Sun Kissed (23 page)

“We put away one of the low-level guys, but we couldn’t get any further than that, which frustrated the hell out of Tess, who was prosecuting both cases. I sure as hell never expected to nail the guy down here.” He shook his head. “Funny thing is, the family had apparently written the barge off as a loss years ago.”

“Until Ford got drunk and told everyone in The Blue Parrot that the
Wainani
was going to make him wealthy,” Lani guessed.

“Got it on the first try,” he said.

“But why would a mobster care that much about the money? Granted, it’s a lot to most people, but surely it’s not even a day’s income for him.”

“Those guys don’t like losing. They’re also greedy as hell. I’ve seen unlucky gamblers beaten to death for a lot less. It’s no accident that Phoenix was considered the most violent city in the country when the Italian, Irish, Chinese, Japanese, Mexican, and Russian gangs were battling over territory there in the early 2000s.”

“I’d honestly hate your job,” she said. “But it’s no wonder the FBI wants you.”

He wrapped his arms around her. Right then he didn’t want to think about going to the Feds. He didn’t want to think about Britton, the crime boss, or the damn pirated payroll. He only wanted to remember how perfectly Lani Breslin fit in his arms.

“Look at those stars,” he murmured. “You never see stars like that in the city. Too many lights.”

“And smog,” she whispered as she rested her head on his shoulder and tried to relax. “How much longer?”

“Not long. There’s an old navy landing field dating from World War II on the island; these days it’s used to deliver supplies to a small group of Coast Guardsmen stationed on the island to broadcast signals to ships and planes to help them plot their positions.

“As soon as we land, I’ll go in and get Britton. The whole thing should be over in ten, fifteen minutes. Then you can start thinking about ways to pay off your debt.”

“Donovan,” she began hesitantly, “about my staying on the plane—”

“No.” He gripped her chin, holding her gaze to his. “No arguments, Lani. We made a deal, and I have every intention of holding you to it.”

She reached up, rubbing at the deep lines that bracketed his mouth. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re very sexy when you’re doing your alpha male thing?”

“Dammit, Lani—”

“Perhaps if we discuss this reasonably, we can find a middle ground.”

“After this is over, we can discuss it all you want. For the rest of the night, I’m the boss.”

Lani recognized the tone instantly. Further arguing was going to get her nowhere. “Of course, Donovan,” she answered mildly. Almost, as hard as it was, submissively. “Whatever you say.”

He was looking at her suspiciously when the pilot called out that they’d reached their destination. As they landed, Lani’s heart felt as if it might leap right out of her chest.

Donovan didn’t trust Lani’s atypical acquiescence, but short of tying her up, he didn’t know what to do except give her one last warning. “Remember, whatever happens, you are not to leave this plane,” he ordered gruffly.

She dipped her bright head. “I’ll wait right here.”

Donovan wished he could believe her softly issued promise. Back at the beach house, he’d reluctantly believed her intention to follow him to the airfield. Where, he’d known, she’d try to convince him to take her along. Even if he’d managed to resist that appeal, she probably would have just gotten a boat to take her to Tern Island. At least this way he knew where she was.

Wearing a pair of night vision goggles he’d bought on Oahu, he located the shack at the northernmost end of the island. It was precisely where his informant had told him it would be. From what he could tell from his vantage point in the bushes, there were no guards posted outside. So far, so good.

Making a motion with his arm, he instructed the pilot, who had accompanied him, to go around the back of the house and wait for his prearranged signal. Without a word, the man drifted into the shadows.

Donovan glanced down at the illuminated dial of his watch. There was still time before he would make his move. He was just congratulating himself when he heard a bush rustle. A moment later, Lani slipped up beside him.

“Dammit,” he hissed furiously. “What the hell ever happened to keeping a promise?”

“I had my fingers crossed. Is Ford in there?”

“Yes. Now get back to the damned plane.”

“I’m not leaving you,” she whispered firmly. “I’m sorry, Donovan, but I’ve given this a great deal of thought and came to the conclusion that I couldn’t bear not knowing what was happening to you.”

Another quick glance at his watch showed that he was out of time. Swearing softly, he reached for the Glock. “Since I don’t have time to argue with you, you can stay.” He pressed his fingers against her lips. “Not another word. Don’t move from this spot.”

Her eyes gleaming with excitement, Lani nodded. A moment later, he half-turned and signaled her once again to remain where she was. Then he disappeared into the thick, tropical foliage. The only sounds were the lonely rustle of the night wind, the soft sigh of the surf, and Lani’s heart as it pounded in her ears.

*     *     *

The pilot, a retired Navy SEAL now working for a private executive security company that Nick, the moonlighting cop/bartender/brewer, had hooked him up with, was as good as advertised.

As he and Donovan burst into the cabin, there was no conversation. No threats, confessions, any of that stuff that tended to fill up the last twenty minutes of a movie where the bad guys shared all that they’d been up to, and ended up getting either arrested, or, shot by the good guys, who walked away, either with the girl or each other, if it was a buddy flick.

The thugs who’d been pounding their fists into Ford Britton’s face spun around, guns drawn. And wouldn’t you know it, they held the guns sideways, like gangsters always did in the movies, and, as Donovan had learned on a couple of earlier occasions in his vice days, in real life. Which might allow for a quick draw and look real cool, especially up on a big screen, but was a piss-poor way to get an accurate aim.

Fortunately, because he and the SEAL had been taught the double-handed, thumb forward hold (because, dude, it helps to point in the direction you actually want the bullet to go), the rapid-fire exchange ended up good guys two, bad guys, zero. And the dumb guy tied to the chair screaming like a girl as he pissed his pants.

“I suppose you should untie him,” the SEAL/pilot drawled.

“Why me?” Donovan asked, wondering how many times FBI guys ever actually used those guns he saw in the weapons vault. He was used to talking things out. He’d been trained to do exactly that. But there was a reason he spent all that time at the range. Because sometimes either the bad guys had nothing to lose or were idiots. From what he knew about the way Capelli handled family business, he suspected, for these two, it had been six of one and one-half dozen of another. Because the odds were that they’d be dead either way.

“Because it’s your mission. I’m technically not here.”

“Talk about a cop-out.” Donovan had stuck the Glock back into his jeans when Lani suddenly showed up. And, dammit all to hell, she was not alone.

When the explosive sound of a gunshot shattered the night, Lani instinctively crouched down and wrapped her arms around herself. Another shot rang out, fading into the darkness as the night fell silent once again. The ominous quiet was unnerving.

With the gunshots still ringing in her ears, she made her way stealthily toward the shack, following Donovan’s example by keeping hidden in the shadows as best she could.

She’d almost reached the open door when an arm reached out from behind a tree and grabbed her around the neck.

“One word,” the man growled in her ear as he pressed a gun painfully into her side, “or if you try anything, you’re a dead woman. Is that perfectly clear?”

She nodded, fighting for calm, even as her blood chilled to ice and her body trembled. As he pushed her into the one-room cabin, she saw two men lying on the floor, guns still in their hands. They weren’t moving.

“Fuck,” Donovan muttered.

The pilot, whose casual ease with the dangerous situation suggested piloting charter planes was not his usual occupation, said nothing. But he did roll his eyes.

Unsurprisingly, neither man appeared at all happy to see her.

Ford, or she had to assume it was him, since his once handsome face was unrecognizable, was tied, hand and foot, to a wooden chair. What little bit of blue eyes weren’t buried in swollen black-and-blue bruises, were wide with fear, and he’d wet himself.

Not that she blamed him for that.

“Here’s the deal,” the thug who’d grabbed her told Donovan. “First off, unless you want me to shoot the little lady right now, you’re both going to drop your weapons.”

“Are you okay?” Donovan asked her.

“I’m fine.” Liar, liar, pants on fire.

“I don’t remember inviting chatting,” her captor said. “Drop. The. Fucking. Guns. Now.” She couldn’t help a slight cringe as the gun pressed deeper into her side. Toward the back, which she remembered from one of the
Jeopardy!
answers was not that far from her kidney.

She gave Donovan her most sincere “I’m so sorry,” look, but his face remained expressionless. As did the face of the man who was definitely no mere pilot.

Even as both men dropped their pistols as ordered, Lani felt a spark of encouragement. Ford was obviously going to be no help. The way she saw it, there were three against one. Two of whom were professionals trained to handle situations like this. The odds were in their favor.

“Now, your friend here is going to tell me where the ship’s vault is.”

“You’re taking a big risk for not that much dough,” Donovan said.

“It might be,” the only man left holding a weapon agreed. “But there’s also three million dollars in uncut diamonds in the vault.”

“Which weren’t on the manifest,” Donovan said.

“Oops,” her captor said. “I wonder how those got overlooked.”

“Must’ve been some careless dockworker,” Donovan suggested in a dry tone.

Lani recognized what he was doing. Keeping the bad guy talking while he came up with a plan. The only problem was, if she knew the ploy, the bad guy probably did as well. She might watch bad guys on TV, but the thug with the gun actually played one in real life.

Still, she considered, that didn’t discount the element of surprise.

Fed up with the way these men were ruining Christmas and her plans for the upcoming romantic New Year’s, when, as the clock struck midnight, Lani was going to tell Donovan that she loved him, she shifted her weight and took a deep breath.

Her surprised captor shouted as he slipped through the air, landing with a thud on top of one of his former gang members.

“Damn,” Donovan said, as the pilot retrieved the gun from the guy on the floor, then with one well-placed punch, knocked him out. “You really do know judo.”

“I told you I had a brown belt,” she reminded him. “It may not be a third degree, but this guy was easy. I could’ve handled him back at my green-belt level.”

Now that the excitement was over, a rushing sound was filling Lani’s head, and her knees were suddenly turning as weak as water. As she felt the blood leaving her face, Donovan took her into his arms. “Take a deep breath,” he said. “And sit down.”

She glanced down at the floor that was mostly taken up with two dead and one unconscious bad guy. Which didn’t make his advice the most appealing she’d ever been given.

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him as she shook her head to clear it, then wished she hadn’t.

He’d just picked her up in his arms when three more men came tearing through the open door, guns drawn, faces grim. Would this night never end?

“You guys missed all the fun,” Donovan drawled.

“We thought we’d leave that to you.” A broad grin split Chief Kanualu’s dark face. “Professional courtesy, along with island hospitality, and all that.”

“I appreciate it,” Donovan said. “How’d we do with Capelli?”

“The federal boys took him into custody as soon as his jet touched down.” The police chief shook his head. “Unfortunately he didn’t seem to appreciate our aloha spirit.”

“I can’t understand that,” Donovan said with a smile of his own.

“Neither can I,” Manny Kanualu agreed. “After all, it’s not like we greet every haole who arrives in the islands personally.”

He beamed with obvious satisfaction as he tipped his hat toward Lani. “
Mele Kalikimaka
, Lani. It’s good to see you. Donovan told me you’d probably be coming along. My wife’s going to write a proper thank you note, but please tell your parents how much we enjoyed this year’s luau bash. The snow was inspired. Our grandkids had a super time.”

*     *     *

“You had the police in on this from the beginning,” Lani accused Donovan as they lay in his bed, arms wrapped around each other, while the sun rose outside the window.

Donovan brushed a strand of fiery hair away from her face. “Not exactly from the beginning, but once I figured out what was going down, I thought the least I could do was share the information. I know I hate it when some other jurisdiction is messing around in my precinct without informing me ahead of time. It’s also a good way to get shot.

“Besides, once those FBI guys started following us, I didn’t have any choice but to fill them in before they got the wrong idea and decided we were working with Britton.”

“That was nice the way you told everyone that Ford had every intention of turning the money over to the government.”

Donovan shrugged as he ran his hand down her side. “Maybe he really did have that in mind all along, hoping to negotiate a finder’s fee. You didn’t see him arguing, did you?”

His mouth created a sizzling path along the slope of Lani’s breasts, and her voice grew husky with desire as she tried to concentrate on their conversation. “Would you have argued if you’d been in his shoes?”

“Hell, no.” The damp heat of his mouth moved with tantalizing slowness down her body, leaving trails of exquisite lightning.