Scorch: A Soldiers of Fortune Romance (Military Bad Boy Romance) (5 page)

Clearly, that was a colossal waste of three days.

I storm into the control room just as Javier starts to rev the motor; "Do
not
start this boat up, Toro."

He snorts and shifts the engine into drive, not even turning around; "No can do, princess. We stay, we get shot." He shoots me a smirking grin over his shoulder; "I somehow doubt you've ever been shot, so let me just spoil the surprise and tell you it fucking sucks." He turns back, lurching the boat forward; “It sucks almost as bad as getting stabbed in the fucking neck.”

My eyes suddenly land on the gun sticking out of his shorts and I freeze.

'Whats the matter, rook? Ain't got the stones?'

Koufax’s obnoxious voice rumbles through my head, and before I can even second guess myself, I lunge forward and yank the gun out of his pants; "I said
stop the fucking boat!
"

That
gets his attention. He lets the yacht drift to a stop as he freezes.

"For the
last time
, I'm telling you to get on your knees and-"

Javier whirls, knocking the gun from my hands as we both topple backwards. There's a scramble, and I'm shoving against him, but the reality is that he's much stronger than me. In a second, he's got me on my back, his body hovering over mine with my hands held firmly by the wrists above my head.

There's something almost sexual about the position, and I can feel my whole body burn with heat feeling him against me like that. His face looks wild with his strong, chiseled jaw, and his dark brown eyes flashing at me. His black hair is tousled, framing his face, and I'm suddenly keenly aware of his lack of shirt.
 

I'm also keenly aware of
something
pressing against my thigh.

Oh my
God
, is he
hard?

His lips part slightly, his teeth white and flashing at me. Our eyes meet, and there’s just this pure fire between them. It’s wild and animalistic, mixed with anger and resentment. But there's a single second when we lock eyes on each other, and we both see it.

But the moment passes, and then I'm just being held to the ground by a target I'm supposed to have halfway back to an embassy by now. And so I do what any rational woman would do when pinned to the ground by a dangerous, shirtless stranger, however perfect a body he has or however handsome a face: I scream.

He jerks away from me as soon as I start to thrash and yell in his face, my hands clawing for him as he scrambles away from me; "Dios fucking mio; calm the fuck down!"

I quickly stand, squaring off against him as I snarl like some sort of puma ready to pounce.

"
Look!
" He points across the marina, where the men are quickly piling into another boat of their own; "Something tells me those pendejos aren't with you, right?"

I shoot him a heated look before I shake my head.

"Great. Well if we stay here, they’re going to shoot at us, comprende?"

"If you think I'm going to help you escape-"

"I'm helping
you
escape,
princess
!"

We lock eyes again; the standoff all over again.

Finally, he rolls his eyes; "
Here.
" He hands me the gun, butt first; "I'm going to drive, hold this if it makes you feel better."

I glare at him, but I reach out and take the gun from him. It's heavy in my hand as he mutters something in Spanish and turns back to the wheel.

'You up for this, Archer?'

'Absolutely, sir.'

"Javier,
turn off the boat.
”

The gun feels like it weights a thousand pounds as I flex my sweating hand around the grip. Desperate times, desperate measures, and all that shit. I'm not going to kill him, but he can still talk to the C.I.A. with a hole in his leg.

He freezes for a second, still not turning around; "You won't."

The boat continues on, plowing faster and faster as we cruise out of the harbor and around the lighthouse point.

I pull the hammer back and take a deep breath.

"You have three seconds, Toro. Turn off the fucking engine."

"No can do, princess," He says with an arrogant chuckle; "Can't go back, so we're going forward." He lurches the boat faster, and I can feel my finger tighten around the trigger.

This asshole is seriously going to make me do it.

"Besides," he says with a chuckle; "We both know you're not
actually
going to-"

I squeeze.

Click
.

It's empty.

The sound of the trigger still has Javier jolting upright though, and he whirls, his face a mask of absolute shock; "You fucking
shot
me?!"

"I did not!" My face is pale and I'm staring at the gun in my hand like it's some kind of wild animal.

“Yeah but you
tried to!
"

Holy shit, I did
.

I've hit the targeting range about as hard as I did with schoolbooks, but I've never pulled a trigger on an actual person before. I stare at the piece of metal in my hand like its a snake that might bite me. I want to throw it away, but reason takes over and I hold it firm, trying to keep my hands from shaking.
 

This is
my
op
; I'm supposed to be in charge, and I'm supposed to be
in control
of the situation. And yet here I am on a stolen yacht, with the fugitive I'm supposed to bring in, being chased by a mob of men with guns trying to kill me.

I am very much
not
in control of this situation.

But I turn and look out the back of the cabin to see the men starting to untie the boat back at the docks, screaming at each other and pointing in our direction. I turn back to Javier -  the devil himself staring me in the face with that hard glint in his eye and that teasing smile across those lips of his.

"It- it wasn't loaded-"

"
No shit
, princess." He sighs, his shoulders deflating a little with the moment. His eyes follow my gaze to them men in the smaller boat; "You know what? Fine; you're the boss, chica. Whats the call."

Men with guns, or the man that kidnapped my sister?

I narrow my eyes at him; "Drive the fucking boat, Toro."

"Aye aye
capitan
," he salutes with a grin on his face before turning and lurching the engines forward, roaring us out of the harbor.

"Where exactly are we going?”

Dios fucking mio, this girl asks a lot of fucking questions.

“Away from the men trying to kill you."

"Us."

"What?"

"Us," She gives me a hard look; "They're trying to kill
us
."

I laugh; "Princess, they're trying to kill
you
; they're only after me because I was a fucking idiot and stuck my nose where it didn’t belong.”

She says nothing and turns to look out the side window of the cabin.

"Yeah,
you're welcome
, by the way;
again
.“

"Thanks," she mutters as her hand tightens on the gun. It's kind of hilarious to me that she's still hanging on to it like that, considering we
both
know it’s not loaded now. But whatever; it seems to make her feel like she’s in charge, so fine.

My eyes travel up from her clenched hand to her smooth arm, then up to her bare shoulders and across that exposed collarbone to the swell of her breasts. I mean this chick is a fucking
knockout
. Killer smile, bright blue eyes, tanned skin, and that white bikini and sarong which is doing
everything
right to show off that perfect body with curves in all the right places. I mean,
damn,
if i'd known the C.I.A. made spooks like her, I'd have gone looking for trouble a long time ago.
 

Get your head in the game, Javier
, I mutter to myself, shaking my head and dragging my eyes away from the temptation sitting at the helm next to me.
Not
the girl I should be thinking about like that, or looking at like that. She may be sexy as sin, but
fuck
, she's the enemy here. This is the
C.I.A.
, for fuck’s sake; not to mention her fucking family and all their little
helpers
are the ones that got me stuck in that hellhole of a prison in the first place. She might be tempting as all hell, but I'd be a Goddamn idiot to let my guard down around her.

"So what did those
banditos
want with you back there."

"What? I have no idea." she spits out, frowning at me.

Nice fuckin attitude.

"
No
idea?" I laugh; "The 'I'
does
stand for '
inteligence'
, doesn't it?"

"Cute,” She sneers at me; “Seriously though, where are we going."

"I know a place."

"
A place
?"

"Maybe you just gotta trust me, honey.” I say with a grin.

She barks out a sharp laugh this time, though she doesn't say anything afterwords, which pisses me off.

"I used to smuggle through here, way back. Aruba's got all sorts of hidden little spots on the coast where we can dodge the heat.”

"Fine, and once we're there, we're getting a phone and I'm calling this in."

Yeah, whatever you say, baby.

Because I know the patch insignia on the flak jackets of the guys at the marina. I know that logo, because I used to wear it myself.

And what the fuck
Blackriver Mercenary Group
wants with Chelsea Archer, I haven't the slightest fucking idea.

*****

"We're going to need to lie low for at least the night."

I've gotten the boat to a stop near the mouth of the all but hidden cove I remember from my smuggling days. Really, “smuggling days" sounds way more bad-ass than it actually was; cigarettes and American copies of Playboy Magazine for off-duty U.S. Navy guys isn't exactly narco-trafficking; not like my father.

Chelsea looks up at me sharply. She's still holding that stupid unloaded gun, which is becoming more and more comical by the moment; “We're not
staying the night
anywhere, Toro. We're getting to the airport, I'm calling Langley, and we're taking you in." She narrows her eyes at me; "But nice try."

"Yeah, thats a no-can-do." When she flashes those eyes at me again and starts to open her mouth, it suddenly occurs to me that she doesn't have
any idea
who was just after her; “You know I’m not the bad guy here,
babe
."

She laughs; "You don't seriously believe that, do you?"

There's something about the way she thinks this is all a joke that gets right under my skin; "I'm not the-"

"You kidnapped my sister and you-“

"She stabbed me in the neck.”

"
You kidnapped. My. Sister
." Her voice is level at me, her jaw tight and that wild, dangerously
sexy look writ large across her face. I
hate
to admit that she brings up a fair point, but my scar still throbs under the ink on my neck. That was another lifetime ago, another cycle in the ever evolving, swirling, constantly chaotic bullshit life of Javier Toro.

I don't say a word though, outside of grumbling, as I turn back to the drive console.