Page 63 of Taken With Trouble

“You underestimate me, darling.”

“Liam…” She looks at me, and in her eyes, I see something that terrifies me. Fear so deep and wounded I can feel it in my soul. “They’re here for me.”

I shake my head. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s too late,” she whispers. Her breaths come faster, and I’m pretty sure she’s on the verge of hyperventilating or having a panic attack.

“Hey…” I place her tied hands on my chest so she can focus on my heartbeat instead of her own. “Deep breaths. In and out.”

She complies, drawing in a ragged breath, holding it, then letting it out. She repeats the cycle.

“Good girl.” I raise my tied hands, cupping her chin and cheeks. “I’ll keep you safe, Serena, I promise. Don’t you doubt me, darling.” Before I can think better of it, I lean over and press a kiss to her forehead.

“I think you’re forgetting our current predicament,” she says, her voice nearing hopelessness. But all things considered, I wouldn’t say the situation is that dire. “We’re tied up in the bottom of a boat, in the middle of the ocean, kidnapped by men with guns.”

“And that slit is so bloody high,” I mutter.

She blinks up at me.

“What? I thought we were saying things that were killing us.”

A soft smile threatens to break through. “So, Mr. Extensive Plans. How do we get out of this, and do you have any idea where we’re heading?”

Out of the small window, I see a shore in the distance. I’m not certain but it almost looks like Hastings. We’re still in the English Channel. That simply could not be more ideal. I figured they were taking us to France, but they only circled the UK.

“Do you still have that knife in your dress?”

“I do.” She tries to grab it, but her hands are bound too tight.

“May I?” I ask.

She nods and I reach for the zipper. It’s an awkward angle, but I manage to get the delicate zipper down enough to grab the handle of the knife.

“Give me your hands.”

She holds out her wrists, and I saw through the rope. It’s thick and slow going and the impending dock draws nearer. I’m going to have to make a choice.

“Listen to me. When we get a little closer, you’re going to jump. You’re going to go west. I have a contact—”

“Liam, stop. What are you talking about?”

“We don’t have enough time. And you need to get out of here.”

“But they want me, not you.”

I give her a half smile as I free her hands. “Oh Cruz, not everything is about you. Maybe they just want the treasure.” I try to lighten the ominous mood and go to work on the rope at her feet.

“Liam, I’m serious.” She shakes her head adamantly. “What if they kill you?”

I stop, just long enough to make sure her brown eyes are focused on me. “A worthy cause to die for.”

“Shut up. I’m not. And you know it. Leave. Vanish like you always do.”

I grab her face. “I’m starting to believe no one ever told you how special you are.” I press a soft, lingering kiss to her lips in case this is the last one. Then pull away. “And I do believe I’ve been trying to tell you I’m reformed. Dare I say, a gentleman.”

“Then get free and come with me.”

“I’ll stay, search the yacht for my grandfather then follow you.” The yacht slows as it moves into the no-wake zone, and I talk whether she wants me to or not. There’s no time. “You’re going to go left out this door. Take an immediate right, then left. It will take you to the back of the yacht. When you get to land, there’s a yellow cottage on the corner of Lambeth and Cove. West side of the town. A man named Terry lives there. You tell him you ‘traveled through Vail with a bottle of Bordeaux.’ Got it? Say it just like that.”

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