Romancing the Alpha: An Action-Adventure Romance Boxed Set (65 page)

“Charlie, I—”

“How far to the boat?” she asked Leo, unwilling to have this conversation right now.

“Uh, about fifteen minutes, I’d guess,” said Leo, looking a little amused at the drama playing out in the backseat.

“We’ll continue this talk later,” Jackson said, low enough that only she could hear. She could tell by his tone that he had no intention of letting her escape this conversation a second time.

Her cheeks burned as she turned to look out the window. Jackson shifted slightly away from her, but the backseat still felt too small, too close—or maybe it was just that, near or far, he affected her completely. He always had, whether she liked it or not.

Charlotte forced herself to focus on the strange new world outside the car, and though she couldn’t completely forget the presence of Jackson beside her, she soon found herself enthralled by the city around her. Split was nothing like she’d imagined. Below them, a thousand red-orange roofs gleamed in the rising sun, and beyond that, the Adriatic Sea shone a bright turquoise blue. She’d never seen anywhere like it. It was half modern city—complete with grimy advertisements on every corner and stray cats scampering down the side streets—and half historical wonder. She kept catching glimpses of a white tower poking out among the roofs down near the water.

“That’s Diocletian’s Palace down there,” came Jackson’s voice at her ear. “Built by the Roman emperor of the same name. They let you climb the bell tower. If you have a chance, you should. The view is amazing.”

He spoke to her as if she were on a vacation instead of possibly running for her life. But another thing struck her about his comment—he’d been here before. He’d probably been to a lot of places since he’d left her, while she’d never left Atlanta once in that time.

She spent the rest of the ride alternating between wonder and regret. But soon enough, they reached the marina, and she felt her excitement taking the lead as Leo and Jackson led her down one of the many docks. There must have been hundreds of boats here.

“This is us,” Leo said, stopping in front of a sailing yacht. “Thirty-seven feet of pure beauty, isn’t she?”

Charlotte knew nothing of sailing, but even she had to admit that it was a beautiful boat. It shone white and bright beneath the sun. There were two men on the boat’s deck, messing with some ropes on the far end of the vessel, and they looked over and called out a greeting to Jackson, who waved back.

“Come on,” Jackson said to her. “The sooner we leave, the better.” He led her toward the edge of the dock, to the end of the warped board they were apparently using as a gangplank. The thing was only about ten inches wide, but she had at least seven feet of water to cross between the dock and the boat. When she placed a foot on the board, it wobbled from side to side.

Jackson’s hand pressed gently against the small of her back.

“Don’t think about it,” he said softly in her ear. “Just run across.”

“
Run
?”

“If you try to do it slowly, it’ll shake,” he said. “Go quickly, and you’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.”

He laughed. “If you fall, I’ll fish you out of the water myself.”

Something about the tone of his voice said he’d enjoy that a little too much.
Thanks for the vote of confidence
, she thought. But she was the one who’d insisted on coming on this adventure. She didn’t come this far to balk at
boarding a boat
, of all things. Courage bolstered, she launched herself forward. The board wobbled beneath her, but within two quick steps, she found herself safely on the deck.

Jackson and Leo crossed behind her. And as she looked around, unsure of where to go, two more men emerged from the cabin below the deck.

“My man!” said the first, bounding right past her and giving Jackson a playful punch in the side. While Leo had appeared to be roughly the same age as Jackson—early thirties or so—this new arrival looked a little younger. He was also the stockiest of the three, and like Leo, he wore only a pair of shorts, showing off the muscles he’d clearly worked quite hard for—and an entire body full of tattoos. He had a pair of designer sunglasses pushed up against his jet black hair and a beer in his hand.

“A little early to be drinking, isn’t it, Toshi?” said Jackson, grinning.

The younger man returned his smile. “You have to try this stuff Leo found. This is much better than the cheap shit we have back in the States.”

The second man was older and a little more reserved—and he seemed less than amused by the others’ conversation. He was tall with ash-colored hair that had started to go gray at the temples, and there was something in his eyes—a worldliness, perhaps—that automatically gave him an air of authority.

“Do we have it?” the older man said, and he didn’t need to specify what he meant. His steel-colored eyes locked right on her, and she fought the urge to wither beneath that sharp, direct gaze.

The other two had fallen silent. She felt Jackson step up beside her, felt a reassuring touch of his hand against her back.

“She’s got it,” Jackson told the older man. “This is Charlotte Carver.” He gave her side a soft squeeze. “Charlie, this is Roth.”

“Lucas Roth,” the older man said, proffering his hand.

Warily, she accepted his greeting, clasping his fingers. His grip was firm, his eyes assessing as they roamed over her and finally came to settle on the purse she clutched closely to her side.

“It’s in there,” he said. It wasn’t a question, but she felt the need to say something in response.

“Yes.”

Jackson still had his arm around her, a silent gesture of support for which she was extremely grateful. She knew she should move away, but as she glanced around at the boat full of men—all of whom appeared to be much larger and stronger than her—she was fully aware of how out of her element she was.

Or how lucky I am
, she thought, giving this team of Jackson’s another look. Maybe she was just delusional from exhaustion, but most of these men were incredibly attractive. Even Roth, for all of his sternness, had
something
about him that made her curious about the man beneath the frown.

Though it was easy to forget that with the way he was looking at her.

“It’s probably safer if I hold onto the atlas,” he said, holding out his hand.

Her stomach tightened, but she silently cursed at herself for being an idiot. She’d known she’d have to give up the atlas eventually. There was no point in delaying it. Still, she felt a twinge of sadness as she handed it over, as if she were losing a little bit of herself.
Which is dumb, because it wasn’t even yours in the first place. It was Vincent Rinaldi’s.

Roth’s weathered fingers skimmed over the gold embossing on the atlas’s cover, but his eyes were still on her.

“Thank you for bringing this to us,” he said, without even the barest hint of a smile—or any gratitude—in his face. “I hope your travels have been pleasant so far.” His eyes shifted to Jackson, then back to her. “As I can see you’ve had the chance to learn, this is shaping up to be a rather dangerous expedition. Perhaps you’d be more comfortable staying here in Split for the time being? I can make arrangements for you in a nice apartment building right by one of the beaches.”

But Jackson’s arm tightened around her. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Of course it’s a good idea,” Roth countered, as if lecturing a child. “This isn’t a game. It’s not safe for her here.” His gaze was back on her again. “We’ll make sure you get a share of the haul. You have my word on it.”

But Jackson was shaking his head, and she could feel the tension in the muscles of his arm around her.

“She stays with us,” Jackson said.

“We need to be able to move freely,” the other man said. “That means we can’t have anyone slowing us down. You’ve already seen how dangerous this is going to get.”

“All the more reason why we shouldn’t just leave her somewhere by herself,” Jackson said. And then, “You already agreed to this over the phone.”

“Because you said that in all likelihood she’d run home long before she ever set foot on this boat.”

That was like a kick right to the gut. But before Charlotte could ask either of them to elaborate, Jackson released her and stepped toward the other man.

“She’s involved in this now, whether we like it or not. Blame me if you like, but if Nash is onto us, you know what that means. She’s safer with us.”

Roth’s mouth went rigid. She’d heard the way Jackson and Leo had talked about this man—he was the leader of this little team, and it was clear they respected him deeply. She hadn’t realized she’d be in the middle of something.

But the decision, such as it was, appeared to have been made.

“We’re leaving in ten minutes,” Roth said, looking around at his team. And with that, he turned and climbed back down below, the atlas still clutched in his hand.

Charlotte still felt a little like the wind had been swept out of her sails, even when Roth had completely disappeared below and Jackson turned back to her. She’d known she was stepping into Jackson’s territory, but she hadn’t really expected it to be so… well,
awkward.

But if the others were feeling that awkwardness, they hid it well.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me?” said the one with the tattoos, twisting around Jackson to place himself right in front of her.

Jackson was already back to his normal self, and he rolled his eyes at his friend before looping his arm around her waist again, as if to protect her from the other man’s enthusiasm.

“This is Toshi,” he told her. “He’s an even bigger player than Leo.”

“Hey, hey, hey. Don’t be knocking me right out of the gate, man,” said Toshi. To her he added, “Jacky here has it out for me. But don’t worry—I don’t go after my brothers’ girls.”

Charlotte started to point out that she was most definitely
not
Jackson’s “girl,” but before she could get out the words, Jackson had already started introducing her to the other two men on the boat. The big one on the left with the short, chestnut hair was Alexei, and he greeted her with the hint of a Russian accent. The other one was lither and had wavy, sun-bleached hair, and Jackson introduced him as Xavier.

She didn’t have time to speak with any of the guys, though. They’d all jumped to action preparing the boat for departure.

“We should take your things downstairs,” Jackson told her.

She nodded, eager to do something besides stand here like an idiot. She followed Jackson through the opening and down the ladder-like steps to the area below deck.

She’d never been on a boat before, so she was pleasantly surprised to see how many conveniences were down here below the deck—even if quarters were a little cramped. Roth was nowhere to be seen—he must have shut himself behind one of the narrow doors on either side of the stairs—but there was a small kitchenette tucked away to the left, and next to it, a short table jutted from the wall beneath a panel of electronics.

Jackson led her to a door at the far end of the tiny main room.

“This is where we’ll be sleeping,” he said.

The space beyond could hardly be called a room. It was essentially just a bed with a scant ten inches of “floor” between the mattress and the door.

“This looks… cozy,” she said. But then she realized what he’d said. “We’re
sharing
this?” The bed hardly looked big enough for one person, and the thought of sharing it with Jackson made her go hot from head to heel.

“It’s the only option,” he said with a shrug. “Unless you feel like shacking with one of the others.”

“No, I just…” God, her skin felt too warm.

“Charlie,” he said, and she suddenly realized how close they were, standing in this narrow doorway. His hand came up, his fingers brushing tentatively against her cheek as his eyes seemed to search hers. She knew she should move away from him, but she was frozen in place.

“We have some things to talk about,” he told her. But the way he was looking at her, she wasn’t sure he actually wanted to do any talking.

She wasn’t ready for this conversation—not now, not ever. But before she had the chance to tell him so, one of the other doors slammed open, and Roth stood there. His steely eyes bored right into them, but if he had any thoughts on how close Jackson was standing to her, the man kept them to himself.

“I need you up on deck,” he said to Jackson, just as Leo stuck his head down below.

“We’re ready,” Leo said.

Jackson nodded. “Right away.” He turned to her as Roth climbed the stairs. “You might want to come up. You’ll get sick if you stay down here, at least until you’re used to the movement of the boat. You can sit at the front of the boat while we sail out. But keep your head low if you don’t want to get knocked overboard.”

She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what he meant by that, but she was relieved when she realized she’d avoided an uncomfortable conversation for the second time in less than an hour. And she was more than happy to go up on deck.

By the time she and Jackson emerged, the guy Jackson had called Toshi had just pulled up the gangplank. The lithe, blond one—Xavier?—was winding up some rope, while the big Russian—Alexei, if she remembered correctly—stood by Roth at one of the vessel’s two wheels. Roth glanced her way but didn’t say anything.

A moment later, she found herself sitting at the very front of the craft while the engine pushed them slowly but steadily out to sea. Behind them, the city of Split grew smaller and smaller. From here, she could also see the mountains behind the city—she hadn’t even noticed those when they were in the car. In spite of her uncertainty, her chest swelled with amazement. She hadn’t even been here for half a day, and it felt like every moment she discovered something new.

In the other direction, the Adriatic Sea opened in front of them, wide and blue and glittering in the morning sun. The wind swept her hair across her face, and she pushed the loose waves behind her ears as she leaned forward. They weren’t even on the open water yet, and she already felt like she was in some strange, wondrous new world. Everything was sun and wind and sparkling water.