Authors: Mary Tate Engels
Evan blinked at her several times, then shifted upright. "You look like you mean business, baby."
"I've never been more serious in my life, Evan. Get out of here." She was shaking and wondered if he could tell how scared she was. What if he challenged her bravado? Did she have the courage to pull the trigger? She'd never done anything vicious in her life.
"If I leave here, Alyse, baby, you'll be sorry."
"Don't try to threaten me, Evan. I could make a few threats myself, like telling my father a thing or two about his new fair-haired boy."
"You're nothing but a spoiled brat, Alyse. If I leave, you'll be all alone down here in Mexico. You won't know how to make it out by yourself. You've never done anything by yourself in your life. You need me. Or Father!"
She lifted the extinguisher threateningly. "Not any more. Get out."
Evan mumbled obscenities as he stumbled up the teakwood ladder to the aft cockpit.
Alyse stood poised, clumsily holding the red fire extinguisher in her arms like a shotgun until the sounds of Evan's shuffling footsteps could no longer be heard. Carefully she replaced the volatile tube and rushed over to lock the cabin door. At that moment, Alyse was filled with a strange sense of pride in remembering the portable extinguisher. Bristol Bordeaux, had used a fire extinguisher against foreign agents who chased her through an old hotel in London. Bristol had been forced to pull the trigger. But that was fiction.
Real life was much scarier.
Instead of relief, Alyse felt a high degree of tension in the aftermath of the encounter with Evan. What would she do if he came back? Could she really pull that trigger? Probably not. She reached for the light switch and flipped it, clothing the room in comforting darkness. Her head whirled with the impact of her new predicament.
Then a new thought struck her. What would she do now if Evan didn't come back as he claimed? How would she get the Skye Command back to San Diego Harbor? Evan was right; she'd never undertaken such a major task by herself. Realistically she didn't trust herself to take the expensive yacht around the Baja tip and along the sometimes treacherous Pacific coast. Oh, God, what a mess she'd created for herself.
Wrapping a sheet around her shoulders, she curled up on the bunk and gazed out the port window at La Paz. The small Mexican town seemed so peaceful, so lazy, so beautiful. Actually she loved the place. But she had backed herself into a corner, and she was all alone in a foreign country. Now how was she going to get out?
Knowing she couldn't sleep, Alyse snapped on the tiny bunk light and found her place in Bristol Bordeaux's next breathless adventure. Soon Alyse was whisked away from her problems in the tiny Mexican harbor to the Moroccan coast, where Bristol eluded her followers and stowed aboard an oil trawler bound for her home port of Houston, Texas.
The bunk light glowed far into the night.
Next day Alyse busied herself around the boat, almost hoping Evan would return. Yet she dreaded the thought. She had seen a side of him last night that frightened her. He'd been so brutal and rude. And drunk. She just couldn't shrug it off with the excuse that he'd been drinking too much. That, too, was a problem. Wait until Father heard about this.
Father. Should she call him? It was the first time she'd encountered a crisis and not rushed out immediately to seek his help. But something held her back this time. Something deep inside said, Take care of this yourself. And she liked the independent feeling. Alyse squared her shoulders with a strange, false sense of pride.
Then she halted, mid-step. Peering through the large forward window, Alyse's eyes settled on a pair of deep brown, elaborately engraved cowboy boots. Standing right on the Skye Command's teakwood deck!
"Hey, cowboy!" She bolted up the ladder to the cockpit. "Get those boots off my deck!"
"How else can I talk to you?"
Alyse stopped short. "Hey, it's you! The guy on the beach."
"Good guess." The cowboy nodded and assessed her with appreciative eyes. Today she wore a red spandex halter that was contoured precisely to her firm breasts, even outlining the pert nipples. White cotton shorts clung to her slender hips and emphasized those long, tanned legs. As she stood on the wooden deck barefoot, her crimson-painted toenails shining, she looked damned sexy to him. A closer look, though, revealed a bruised shoulder and tiny bruises on her chin.
Jake was instantly furious. Damn the bastard anyway!
Controlling his emotions, he tipped his Stetson and smiled broadly. With his best Texas drawl Jake greeted her. "Morning, ma'am. Jake Bronson's the name. You're Alyse Skye, right?"
She pushed her chestnut hair back behind one ear. "You can't walk on this wooden deck in those boots. You'll scratch it." She motioned nervously, then folded her arms. She felt his gaze burn all the way down to her toes.
Jake looked down at the sassy brunette, then propped his butt against the bow pulpit rail and pulled his boots off. "There. Satisfied?"
She glanced down at his bare feet with a wry smile. "You didn't have to take them off. You could have stepped back up on the dock."
"It wouldn't suit my purpose. We couldn't talk in privacy there. Anyway, I wanted to get a closer look at your yacht. Nice craftsmanship." He gave the Skye Command the same arrogant once-over he'd given her.
She looked at the man who obviously wasn't prepared to take no for an answer. His broad shoulders were encased in a tan khaki shirt. The breast pocket and collar were frayed, and the top two buttons were missing, revealing a golden triangle of chest. His jeans were well worn and imprinted with the shape of his lean hips and thighs.
He was attractive in a strongly masculine sense, but not the type of man she was usually attracted to. Still, he appealed to her seamier side, to her wild imagination. The man, like his clothes, seemed well worn and was definitely sensuous.
"She's a smooth-running craft. We just brought her down from San Diego."
"Does it, uh, does she belong to you?"
Alyse nodded. "Actually, to my brother."
Jake gave a satisfied twist of his head. "Then not to that jerk you've been arguing with since you arrived."
"How do you know about him?"
"Told you. I've been watching." He reached out and touched her bruised shoulder with one gentle finger.
Instinctively Alyse pulled back.
Jake's brown eyes darkened with barely controlled rage. "The man who'd do that to you doesn't deserve any leniency. And this . . ." His large hand cupped her chin, and his thumb gently caressed her cheek.
This time she didn't flinch. Something about his touch and his expression told her he wouldn't hurt her, even though the strength in that hand and arm was quite apparent.
Alyse swallowed convulsively. "Why? Why have you been watching me, Jake Bronson?"
He smiled wickedly and moved away from her before he lost all control. "You're a beautiful woman. I like what I see."
"That—that's the most disgusting thing I've ever heard. What are you? A voyeur?"
"Hardly." Jake chuckled as he walked around the side deck to join her in the aft cockpit. Hell, yes, he'd been a voyeur last night. When that bastard got rough with her, it was all he could do to keep his distance and watch. He glanced up at the railed fly bridge. "Actually the truth is, I need this boat."
"What?" Alyse looked at him askance. "Are you crazy?"
"I don't want it for sport, you understand. I need a way to get back to the States as soon as possible. And I'm prepared to pay handsomely for the trip."
She folded her arms. "Let me get this straight, Mr. Bronson. You want to pay me to take you back to the States?"
He gazed steadily at her. "No. I want to pay you to keep quiet about this trip. I'll do my share of work around here while we're heading back. And call me Jake. I have a feeling we're going to get to know each other very well."
"No, Jake, we are not going to know each other well." She quivered involuntarily beneath his dark gaze. "If you're willing to pay for me to keep quiet, you must have something to hide. And I'm not getting mixed up with someone who's doing something illegal."
"I'm not violating the law. But I do have something to hide, and it's worth a lot of money to me. Say, five thousand?"
Alyse looked at him curiously. "Five thousand bucks?"
"Make it ten. Look, you're coming out way ahead in this game. Now that your bunkmate has run out, you need someone to help you steer this baby home." He shrugged broad shoulders and spread one palm up. "I'm a steady worker, easy to get along with, and I promise not to lay a hand on you, which is more than you can say about that other one. So we work together. Help each other."
"I don't need anyone to help me," she claimed stoutly. "Evan's here—"
"He left this morning. Took the ferry over to Guaymas. From there he'll fly back to San Diego."
She was stunned, but refused to show it. "Then there are plenty of others I could call. My father would send someone down here in a day. Hey, how do you know Evan left for good?"
"I did some checking. And I'm pretty sure he won't be back. So what are you going to do? Surely you aren't going to call Daddy for help. You're a grown woman. Wouldn't you rather accept my offer and take the boat back by yourself?"
Alyse stalled for time. She looked around the sleepy little harbor and raked her hand nervously through her hair. Jake's words reminded her of Evan's accusation that she'd never done anything by herself. Maybe it was time she did. "Why, that's the most bold, arrogant thing I've ever heard. Why would I accept your offer? I don't even know you."
As much as she hated to admit it, this golden man was right. Already she knew that Evan could be brutal, and it was frightening. But could she trust this man? This absolute, total stranger.
"Look, Alyse." Jake stuffed his large hands into his pockets and walked around the starboard deck. "I'll admit it sounds strange, but I'll explain it more fully to you. When you hear what I have to say, I think you'll feel differently."
She glared at him. "For all I know you're transporting drugs. Or some other kind of contraband."
"No. You'll have to take my word for it. Tell you what. Think about it. Then meet me tonight for dinner. I'll tell you the full story and supply you with any identification and whatever you need to know about me. I'm just in a tight spot down here in Mexico and need a little help getting out. That's as honest as I can be."
She shook her head. "I don't know you. There's no reason I should trust you."
"You have my word." Jake shrugged as if she should automatically believe that the value of his word was impeccable. "Meet me tonight at La Cabana. We can talk more about this, and I'll answer any of your questions." Jake bent to tug the gorgeous boots back on his feet. When he straightened, he smiled and tipped his Stetson again. "See you tonight at seven, Alyse."
She followed him. "I haven't agreed to meet you."
"You will when you realize you're all alone down here. I don't think you really want to ask for help from home. Why should you when you've got me?" Jake laughed and brushed her cheek with his fingertips. "We need each other, Alyse."
She drew in her breath sharply and quelled the desire to grasp his strong hand and place it somewhere sensitive. She didn't flinch away from him. Already she trusted him.
With a quick smile he stepped from the bow to the pier and was gone. Alyse still trembled at his fleeting touch, not from foreboding but from some inner attraction that drew her to him.
At the end of the dock he paused and glanced around, as if to see if he was being followed. Admittedly, the man intrigued her. Jake Bronson reminded her of the men in her Bristol Bordeaux adventures - exciting, mysterious and stimulating. They were all the elements she loved in a man. Or in a situation.
Even as she stood there, befuddled by his curious request, Alyse knew she would meet him for dinner tonight. What could possibly happen in a public restaurant? Anyway, he had promised to bring credentials.
The man was right. If Evan were gone, as Jake Bronson claimed, she would need someone to help her take the Skye Command back home. She would not be making the trip with Evan. And she had already decided against calling home for help this time.
Chapter Three
Alyse was twenty minutes late, and Jake impatiently finished off a beer while he waited. He'd hoped she would come voluntarily. For some crazy reason he thought she would. Now it looked as if she'd double-crossed him. Damn! He'd have to make it all happen by force, and it might get ugly. But by God, he'd make it happen. He had to get out of Mexico, and this woman provided the best way.
Suddenly she was there, scooting her chair beneath the small, circular table across from him. Their knees touched, and Alyse smiled and apologized for being late. He could think of nothing but how beautiful she looked in that silky black halter dress that showed off her slender waist and a generous amount of cleavage. Who would have guess she would look so good in clothes? The red bikini had been fabulously sexy on her, but tonight the black dress was sophisticated and elegant. And he wanted her with a sudden, almost overpowering desire.