When would the Colombians make contact? Would they find Emma? What had become of Carly?
An old familiar pressure settled in his chest, the one that he’d tried to run from when he left his work as a narcotics investigator. Convinced the stress would kill him if the dealers didn’t get to him first.
He closed his eyes and cycled into his breathing exercises.
In through the nose, hold, let it out slowly. Repeat.
His nerves calmed with each round.
Now, if only there was something he could do about his palpitating heart as visions of the drop-dead gorgeous woman in the next room played through his mind. He recalled her dark hair gleaming under the glow of the kitchen lights, her smooth skin, and expressive ebony eyes that revealed everything she felt. She held a subtle beauty that snuck up on a person. If only she didn’t look so scared.
He rolled onto his side and buried his head under his pillow, then he rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Closing his eyelids, he willed himself to fall asleep. How could he be so exhausted yet not be able to fall asleep? The danger? The intrigue? The woman in the next room?
Chapter Nine
Tink…tink…tink.
Emma’s eyelids flew open.
What was that?
Tink…tink…tink.
Her body tensed beneath the quilt. Was she just hearing things? Was her imagination running wild? Surely, if there was a strange noise, Cap would have heard it as well, right? He would come running if he thought she was in danger.
The sound came again, soft and deliberate. Not wind. Not rain.
Her gaze slid to the window. Jonathan stood there holding a gun.
Her heart stuttered. Shock ripped through her so fast she couldn’t breathe. Her mind rejected what her eyes insisted on seeing. She squeezed them shut and then opened them to find her presumed dead ex staring at her through the window. Alive.
Her throat burned as she fought for air. Why hadn’t she shut the blinds?
Tink…tink…tink.
The sound came from the gun barrel tapping the glass.
“Come here now,” he mouthed to her.
Her pulse roared in her ears. She willed herself to scream. Cap would hear it and come running. Nothing came out.
After what she’d witnessed today, without a doubt, he’d shoot her if she didn’t follow his instructions.
She forced herself to move, lowered the covers, and eased out of bed on her wobbly legs. Then she eased the window open a crack.
“How? We thought…” was all she said before he interrupted her.
“You would have liked me to have drowned, but no luck,” he said in a tone colder than she’d ever heard.
“I need the spare keys to my truck. You still have them. And, I need a phone,” he said as he waved the gun around for her to see.
His facial muscles were tense, and bruising had set in from the beating he had taken on the boat.
She wanted to yell for Cap, but feared he’d shoot her and Cap when he ran to her.
“Emma, do you have my keys here?” he asked through gritted teeth.
“Yes, they’re in my purse.”
