Her Alpha Avengers [The Hot Millionaires #7] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (2 page)

Is that supposed to make me feel better?
“In that case, I’ll take my chances alone.”

She whistled to Mulligan, who, to her utter astonishment, came bounding straight up to her, shaking water all over them both.
Good dog!
So far he’d proven to be a stalwart protector and never had she felt greater need of that trait. She confidently expected him to bark at the murderer and sink his teeth into the guy’s shins. If he did that, she could escape, or at least get to the can of Mace she carried in the satchel slung across her body. Once again he surprised her by meekly sitting down and wagging those damned fronds.

“I don’t have time to discuss the issue,” the man said curtly. “If you wanna stay here and be fitted up for murder, then—”

“Me! That’s rich.” She shook her arm, hoping to dislodge his hand, but he only held her tighter. “You’re the murderer. Let me go, and I won’t say anything.”

God, how lame does that sound?

“Come on.”

He dragged her toward the sea, causing her to suppose that the boat illegally tied to the pier was his. Sabine put up one hell of a fight, but whatever she did, she couldn’t dislodge his hand from her arm.

“Let. Me. Go.”

“Not a chance. I know how it looks, but don’t fight me, goddamn it! I’m saving you from yourself.”

“Using me to save yourself, more like. Let me go, or I’ll set my dog on you.”

“Nice dog,” he said, scratching Mulligan’s big head with his free hand.

Mulligan, the traitorous mutt, lapped it up and didn’t show the slightest inclination to attack. The least he could have done would have been to growl, or bare his teeth, or pretend to be brave. He needed to be reminded who’d taken him in, fed him, and made a big fuss of him when no one else gave a toss about him.

The man actually managed a brief smile at Mulligan’s reluctance to come to her rescue. She shot him a scathing look that was ruined when she absorbed the full force of that smile of his, and a small exclamation slipped past her guard. Since when had murderers become so damned handsome? Weren’t they supposed to be hard, mean, and scar faced? Sabine shook her head, wondering if she was sickening for something. She was struggling for her life against some heartless gangster, and all she could think about was how devastatingly good looking he was.

Worse yet, she didn’t actually feel that afraid of him. Wasn’t it called the Stockholm syndrome? Something like that anyway, when captors turned captives to their way of thinking. If that’s what was happening here, he was a damned fast worker.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on,” she said, striving for a reasonable tone. For a variety of reasons not necessarily connected with fear, her heart was thudding so loudly that she couldn’t hear herself speak over its pounding in her ears, so she was unsure if she’d succeeded. “But whatever it is, it doesn’t involve me. Just let me go. I’ll only slow you down.”

“Come on,” he said again, dragging her along. “I don’t have time to debate the issue with you, Sabine.”

She let out a yelp, and this time the drumming of her heart was all to do with fear. “How did you know my name?”

“In we go.”

They’d reached the edge of the water. Was she supposed to wade out to his damned boat? The hell with that! Presumably sensing her hesitation, he sighed and muttered something about stubborn women. Then he swooped her right off her feet, cradling her against a chest that felt like it had been carved out of granite. A bit like his heart, she supposed, the murdering bastard. He had deep-green eyes, brown hair that fell across them in thick, silky waves, and a cleft in a chin that sported at least a day’s worth of stubble. It suited him.

Sabine gave herself a mental shake. She was being abducted in almost broad daylight, and no one was about to help her. He’d probably chuck her over the side as soon as they got away from the shore, and that would be that. And yet, instead of plotting her escape, she was wasting time admiring her captor’s features. Rather than wasting time appreciating the view, she ought to do something to help herself. Struggle, bite, kick any parts of him within range of her feet. Any damned thing to let him know that she was no wuss.

Sabine did nothing. She just let him carry her like it was no big deal, feeling safe and comfortable in his arms. How screwy was that? And damn, he was strong! Sabine was five ten and weighed one forty—on a good day. Not that she’d been particularly good recently, she reminded herself guiltily, thinking of all the comfort junk she’d consumed since arriving in America. Then there was the weight of the heavy satchel she wore across her body. That had to add at least another fifteen pounds. She hoped the combined weight gave him a hernia.

No such luck, of course. He acted like she was a featherweight, and it took just a couple of strides of those long legs of his before they reached the boat and he dumped her into it.

“Stay!” he said, as though talking to Mulligan.

Like hell she would! She stood up, ready to leap out of the boat and make a dash for it. Unfortunately, her timing was off because Mulligan, at a softly spoken command from her abductor, jumped into the boat and knocked her right back down again. He seemed very pleased with himself and enthusiastically gave her face a thorough wash with his lolling pink tongue. Of all the times to get affectionate! By the time she’d pushed Mulligan away and managed to stand up again, the murderer had started the boat’s engine, let the rope go, and they were heading out to sea.

“You won’t get away with it,” she said, folding her arms beneath her breasts and glowering at him, wondering if she could leap over the side and swim to shore before he recaptured her. Probably not, but she was still desperate enough to give it a go. “Someone will have seen your boat.”

He shot her a speaking look that immediately shut her up. The only person to have seen the boat was her. Steering one-handed, he pulled a cell phone from his pocket and hit a key.

“He’s dead,” he said curtly to the person who answered. “Yeah, I know.” He listened. “She’s with me. There’s a green Jeep in the parking lot. Get it over to our place before questions are asked about it.”

“Hey, don’t you dare touch my car!”

He ignored her. “Get Otto to check her condo.” Sabine’s mouth fell open when he reeled off the address of her rented apartment. “She can’t stay there. They’re on to her. Get him to bring all her stuff back to the house.” He listened some more. “Right. I hear you. No, no it was definitely a setup. I can see flashing lights already. Someone called the cops the moment it went down. They wouldn’t have got here that quick otherwise.”

“What the hell’s going on?” Sabine asked the guy when he cut the call, too angry to feel afraid or even think about trying to escape.

“I was rather hoping you’d be able to tell me that.” He stared straight ahead, his brow furled as though he had more important things on his mind than talking to her. Like how to duck a murder rap, or dump a live body at sea. “Hell, where are my manners?” he asked, turning his attention back to her and flashing another glamorous smile that made her damned knees tremble. “We haven’t been introduced. I’m Fin Landon.”

He stuck out his hand and Sabine stupidly shook it. A frisson of excitement that eradicated her dwindling fear shot through her when his long fingers curled round her palm. She quickly extracted her hand. There was a time and a place for everything, and right now she could do without this distracting thug playing mind games with her. She needed to think rationally.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked.

“Somewhere safe.” He looked directly at her, and Sabine realized she’d miscalculated. He wasn’t just good looking, he was every woman’s fantasy. Just her luck to get abducted by a guy who looked drop-dead gorgeous. “Then we’ll talk.”

Anxious to be well clear of the national park before the cavalry arrived, Fin drove the boat as fast as he dared. There were a few early morning fishing boats out, and he didn’t want to draw attention to himself by acting like a boy racer and causing too much wake. At the same time, he kept a weather eye on Sabine Hilton. Not that she’d introduced herself, but then, she didn’t need to. He knew pretty much all there was to know about her already, barring a few crucial facts.

“Don’t even think about it,” he said, not turning his head to look at her.

“Trying to control my thoughts now, are you?”

“I could lock you in the cabin if you’d like.”

She squared her shoulders and placed a hand on the stupid dog’s harness—like he’d protect her. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Don’t test me, Sabine. One man’s already died today.”

“Thanks to you.”

“Just so that you know, there are gators in these waters. I wouldn’t recommend jumping in.”

“Gators only inhabit freshwater,” she said with a triumphant smile. “You haven’t abducted a complete dummy, you know.”

Fin couldn’t help chuckling, even though he didn’t have much to laugh about right now. Sabine was a surprise. He’d seen a couple of grainy pictures of her, but they didn’t do her justice. She was tall and athletic looking, and he liked that she wasn’t stick thin, had decent curves, a cute butt, and endless legs. He’d discovered that much, even under such dangerous conditions, when he carried her to the boat. He hadn’t seen her eyes yet because she’d kept her shades on, but he was willing to bet that they were as fiery as the rest of her. She had a long tangle of brunette hair that ended halfway down her back and features that were interesting rather than beautiful. He almost smiled again, imagining her reaction if she could read his thoughts. Telling a woman she looked interesting was like saying a Picasso painting was “nice.” It was neither sensible nor an accurate description.

One thing he did know was that she was smart and didn’t lack courage. She’d come over to the States to look for Pearson and had gotten a damned sight closer than Fin and his buddies had so far managed. Okay, so she’d been at it for longer, but Fin was a professional and had the sorts of resources at his disposal that she could only dream about. Spencer had been the break they’d all been waiting for, and Fin had allowed him to be murdered on his watch.

Hell, he’d screwed up big time!

Preferring not to dwell upon his inefficiencies, he returned his thoughts to Sabine. She must have been scared shitless when she came upon him, standing over Spencer’s body. Of course she thought he’d done it. In her position, he’d think the same thing. But she hadn’t had hysterics or gone all girly at the sight of blood, and now appeared curious about him, rather than scared. He was pretty sure she wouldn’t make a break for it, so he didn’t carry through on his threat to lock her out of sight.

His cell buzzed. He checked the display and answered it.

“Yeah, Otto.”

“Her place has been turned over, and recently.”

“Shit!” He turned to Sabine. “What time did you leave your condo this morning?”

It must have been something about the urgency in his tone that made her answer him. “Six o’clock. Why?”

“She left at six,” he said to Otto, “so it must have been recent.”

“Her computer’s gone, if she had one.”

“Hang on, I’ll ask her.”

“Your condo’s been broken into,” he said.

“Yes, by your buddy.”

“No, before that. Did you have a computer? If so, it’s gone.”

She flashed a superior smile and patted the large bag that hadn’t left her person. She appeared to be annoyed with herself for revealing her secret, because although she turned away from him, he still heard her mutter a few choice swear words.

“It’s okay, she’s sensible enough to keep it with her. Just collect up all her personal things and bring them on over.”

“On my way,” Otto said, cutting the connection.

Fin didn’t meet her curious gaze after that, and she made no attempt to speak to him. He admired that about her. She must be brimming with questions but didn’t know if she could trust him and wasn’t about to volunteer anything about herself. Well, she’d find out they were the good guys once they got back to base.

He slowed to just above idle speed as he turned the boat into the watery cul-de-sac that led to their house. When he arrived at their private dock, Gabriel was there to take the lines.

“Hello,” he said to Sabine, the inevitable sexy smile springing to his lips as he clocked her physical attributes. “I’m Gabriel Yorke.”

“Another guardian angel,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It must be my lucky day.”

“Lady,” Gabe said, his smile widening, “you have no idea.”

Mulligan leapt onto the dock and wagged at Gabe, who gave his ears a rub.

“That dog has lousy judgment,” she muttered. “We’re gonna have to have a little chat about that.”

“Come on.”

Fin took her arm to help her out of the boat, but she shook him off and managed on her own.

“What is this place?”

She looked up at the house and couldn’t quite hide the fact that she was impressed. Fin tried to see it as though it were new to him and could understand why. In one of the best streets on St. Pete Beach, Florida, it occupied a double corner lot, offering additional privacy. In stark contrast to the compact condo in a rough part of downtown St. Pete that she’d been living in, the large house was spread over three floors and enjoyed spectacular views from every room.