Читать книгу His Stolen Bride - Barbara Dunlop - Страница 9
ОглавлениеJackson recognized Mac’s number and put his phone to his ear. “Find something?”
“Norway talked to the girl,” said Mac.
“Did she admit to the affair?”
“She says there’s nothing between them. But she’s lying. And she’s doing it badly. Norway got thirty seconds alone with her phone and grabbed some photos.”
That was encouraging. “Anything incriminating?”
“No nudity, but they do look intimate. Gerhard’s got an arm around her shoulders, and his expression says he slept with her. We’re combing through social media now.”
“Good. Keep me posted.”
“How are things at your end?”
Crista emerged from the bathroom. Her hair was still wet but combed straight. She’d washed her face, and she was dressed in Jackson’s white and maroon U of Chicago soccer jersey. It hung nearly to her knees, which were bare, as were her calves.
“Pants didn’t fit?” he asked.
“Huh?” asked Mac.
“Fell off,” she said.
“Stay safe,” Jackson said to Mac, setting down his phone.
“Who’s that?” asked Crista, moving to the sofa. She took the end opposite to Jackson and tucked the hem of the jersey over her knees.
“Mac.”
“He works for your agency?”
“He does.”
She nodded. She looked curious but stayed silent.
“Are you afraid to ask?” he guessed.
She flicked back her damp hair. “I’m not afraid to ask anything.”
“They found some pictures of Vern and Gracie.”
“You’re bluffing.”
“They’re not specifically incriminating—”
“I know they’re not.”
“But they are suggestive of more than a business relationship.”
“If suggestive is all you’ve got, then let me go.”
“It’s all we’ve got so far.” He glanced at his watch. “We’ve only been chasing this lead for five hours.”
She heaved an exaggerated sigh.
“You hungry?” he asked.
He was, and he doubted brides were inclined to eat heartily before their weddings.
“No,” she said.
“You really need to stop lying.”
“You’re criticizing my behavior?”
“You’re not going to help anything by starving.”
He rose, taking the few steps to the small kitchen and popping open a high cupboard.
“You’re not going to make me like you,” she said from behind him.
“Why would I want to make you like me?”
He wanted to convince her not to marry Vern. No, scratch that. He couldn’t care less if she married Vern. No, scratch that, too. Vern didn’t deserve her. If Jackson was sure of one thing in all this, it was that Vern didn’t deserve a woman like Crista.
“To make me more docile and easy to manipulate.”
Jackson located a stray bag of tortilla chips. “Docile? You? Are you kidding me?”
Her tone turned defensive. “I’m really quite easy to get along with. I mean, under normal circumstances.”
He also found a jar of salsa. It wasn’t much, but it would keep them from starving. If they were lucky, they’d find a few cans of beer in the mini fridge.
He turned back.
She froze, her expression a study in guilt, his phone pressed to her ear.
He swore, dropping the food, taking two swift steps to grab it from her. How could he have made such an idiotic mistake?
“Nine-one-one operator,” came a female voice through the phone. “What is your emergency?”
He hit the end button. “What did you do?”
“Tried to get help.” Her words were bold, but she shrank back against the sofa.
Jackson hit the speed dial for Mac.
“Yeah?” Mac answered immediately.
“I have to move. This phone is compromised. Tuck’s dock, zero eight hundred.”
“Roger that,” said Mac.
Jackson pushed open a window and tossed the phone overboard.
“That was stupid,” he said to Crista.
“I was trying to escape. How was that stupid?”
“You were reckless. I was stupid.”
He grasped her arm and pulled her to her feet.
“Hey,” she cried.
“Listen, I’m still not going to hurt you, but you had no way of knowing that for sure. I could have been a vengeful jerk.” He tugged her to the bridge, holding fast to her upper arm while he started the engine and engaged the anchor winch.
Her tone turned mulish. “I had to try.”
“I shouldn’t have given you the chance.”
“You let your guard down.”
“I did. And that was stupid.”
Not to mention completely unprofessional. He wasn’t sure what had distracted him. Their kiss? Her legs? The sight of her in his jersey?
He’d have to worry about it later. Right now, he couldn’t take a chance on an overzealous 911 operator tracing their location. Anchor up, he opened the throttle, and they surged forward.
She swayed, but he held her steady.
“You were trying to be nice,” she said.
He struggled not to laugh at that. “You’re trying to make me feel better about being stupid?”
“I’m saying... I’m not unappreciative of you offering me something to eat.”
“Well, I’m definitely unappreciative of you compromising our location.”
He set a course north along the coastline. His friend Tuck Tucker owned a beach house north of the city. Tuck wouldn’t mind Jackson using his dock. He might mind the kidnapping part, but Jackson didn’t plan to mention that. And if Mac and the others didn’t come through with proof positive by morning, Tuck’s reaction would be the least of Jackson’s worries.
“Where are we going?” Crista asked.
Jackson did chuckle at that. “Yeah, sure. I’m going to tell you.”
“It’s not like we still have a phone.” As she spoke, her gaze flicked to the radio.
“I’ll be disconnecting the battery to that long before I take my eyes off you,” he told her.
“What are you talking about?”
“You just looked at the radio. You might as well be wearing a neon sign that says it’s your next move.”
She drew an exasperated sigh and shifted her feet.
“You probably don’t want to consider a life of crime,” he said.
She lifted her chin and gave her damp hair a little toss. “I’m surprised you did.”
“It’s been a surprising day.”
“Not exactly what I expected, either.”
He’d have to hand her the win on that one.
He switched screens on the GPS, orienting himself to the shoreline.
“I’m hoping you’ll thank me later,” he said.
“Hoping? You don’t seem as confident as before.”
“The stakes just keep getting higher and higher. Now we’re headed for the state line.”
Her attention swung from the windshield to him. “You’re taking me to Wisconsin?”
“What’s wrong with Wisconsin?”
“It’s a long way from Chicago. Why are you taking me there? What’s happening?” She struggled to get away from him.
He regretted frightening her again. They weren’t really going all the way to Wisconsin.
“I didn’t plan to grab you today,” he told her. “I was only there to get a look at Gerhard.”
“Why?”
“To take his measure.”
“I mean why do you care about us at all?”
“It’s a job.”
“Who hired you?”
“It doesn’t matter. What matters to you is that your fiancé is already having an affair. You can’t marry a man like that.” Jackson wasn’t ready to tell her more. Mention of her father would likely alienate her further. He didn’t yet have proof of Trent’s accusations. And if she was having trouble accepting that Vern would cheat, she’d never believe he was conning her.
“He’s not like that. I don’t know where you even came up with that idea.”
She’d stopped struggling against his grip, and that was good. Her fear seemed to have been replaced by anger. Jackson’s guilt eased off.
“Wedding guests,” he said, opening the throttle to increase their speed. It was a clear, relatively calm night, thank goodness. They needed to put distance between them and the position where Crista had made the call.
“My wedding guests?”
“Technically, I would say they were Vern’s wedding guests. They seemed to know him, and they were joking about his relationship with Gracie. I realized I couldn’t in good conscience let you marry him, so I took the opportunity and grabbed you.”
She was silent for a moment. “So this isn’t so much crime as altruism.”
“Yes. The easiest thing for me would have been to walk away.”
“You can still walk away.”
“We’re on a boat.”
“Swim away, then. Or drop me off onshore and drive away—motor away? Float away? What do you call it?”
“Navigate away. And no, I’m not dropping you off onshore.” He made a show of looking her up and down, enjoying the view far too much. “You’re not dressed, for one thing.”
“I’ll put my wedding dress back on. It might be uncomfortable, but it’s better than staying here.”
“I’d get thrown in jail,” he said.
“Darn right. But that’s going to happen anyway.”
“Not for a few hours.” And hopefully not ever, although Jackson’s worry factor was steadily rising.
“How long until we get there?” she asked.
“Get where?”
“To the secret location, wherever it is you’re taking me. How long until we stop navigating?”
“Why?”
“Because I’m hungry.”
“Oh, now you’re hungry. Well, you’re going to have to wait.”
“I can eat while you navigate.”
“I’m not letting go of you.”
“I’m not going to jump.”
“That’s what I thought last time.”
“We’re way too far from shore.”
“Yeah, but I’m sure you’ve got another brilliant plan in mind already. Sabotage the engine, harpoon me from behind.”
“You have harpoons on board?”
“Give me strength,” he muttered.
She leaned close to him. “Am I annoying you? Frustrating you?”
“Yes on both counts.”
Her argumentative nature was annoying, but his frustration came from a whole other place. She was stimulating and exciting. She was a beautiful, feisty, apparently complex and intelligent woman, and he was battling hard against his sexual attraction to her. He didn’t want to be rushing from a crime scene with her as his captive, contemplating the best way to stay out of jail. He wanted to be on a date with her, somewhere great in the city, contemplating how best to get her into his bed.
“There’s a simple solution,” she told him.
It took a second for him to get his brain back on track. “Let you go?” he guessed.
“Bingo.”
“Not until we meet up with Mac tomorrow.”
“You’ll let me go then?”
He knew he was being cornered, but there really was no choice. He could only hope Mac could come up with definitive proof by morning.
“Yes,” said Jackson.
Crista’s mouth curved into a dazzling smile. They hit a swell, and she pressed against him. Her curves were soft, and her scent was fresh. For a moment the risk of jail seemed almost worth it.
* * *
When Crista awoke, she was disoriented. It took a few seconds to realize the warm body beside her wasn’t Vern. She was in bed with someone bigger, harder, with a deeper breathing pattern and an earthier scent. And the bed was moving beneath them.
