swam in his chocolate irises. “And you’ve been captured by a bloodthirsty pirate. Also not the kind of problem normal people face.”
“Ever met a normal person?”
“I married a normal person.”
His bitter tone suggested he was no longer married. Nothing on his ring finger, and no band of pale skin. “How’d that work out for you?”
He shrugged, and turned to the view. His profile was so finely etched she had an urge to sketch him—and she couldn’t draw a passable stick figure.
“She have trouble dealing with the whole pirate thing? Wanted you to settle down, take a nine-to-five job, get a regular paycheck, take the kids to their ball games instead of going marauding with your wooden-legged pirate pals?”
His jaw set in stone. He stood. “Break’s over.”
Okay, that had struck a nerve. Was it regret that brought the hard edge to his eye, or anger? It didn’t look like heartbreak. She sipped her water. Maybe he did have kids who played sports on Saturdays. What would make a seemingly decent guy—a guy some woman had loved—do something like this? And what would trigger him to lose his nerve and let Holly go? She pushed up to standing. Press the right buttons in the right order and she might just find out.
The path curled into the jungle and narrowed. As she ran, leaves brushed her arms, and the air filled with rustling and scratching. She hadn’t had much use for trail running in California, but she’d imagined dusty, quiet paths. Here, it felt like a million insects and other writhing creatures were hyped up and waiting for the signal to swarm her.
Behind her, Jack’s boots pounded a rhythm that matched her footfalls. How long did she have to get to the bottom of him, before the ruse was blown? And what would he do then—kill her? She had to start with dissolving some of the tension between them—or, even better, cranking it up.
A force wrapped around her stomach, yanking her backward. She squealed. Jack’s arms were circling her, lifting her off her feet, his hot chest hard up against her back. Her nerves buzzed, even as her heart pummeled.
“Watch where you’re going, princess,” he growled.
He eased her down, his hands coming to rest either side of her waist. A web hung across the path, with a fist-sized spider in the middle, its hairy legs raised to strike. Her cheeks prickled. Another step and it would have sunk into her right eye.
“Is that dangerous?” she squeaked.
“Wouldn’t have killed you, but its bite hurts like death. And you don’t want to risk an infection out here.”
She exhaled, trying to force her body to relax. Between the sudden stop, the spider and the body contact, little explosions were spreading through her nerves. They skirted around the tree the web was strung from, Jack keeping a hand on her side until they were clear.
“Drink,” he ordered, handing her a fresh bottle.
She took it blindly.
“Come on, princess. You can fight off two six-foot pirates, but a little spider scares you?”
Oh, she’d pretty well forgotten the spider—not so much the shock of Jack’s body smacking into hers. That body was the far bigger danger, in all sorts of ways. She forced down a mouthful of water and handed back the bottle.
“You go first,” he said. “And concentrate. It might be a snake next time, and I’d rather not be sucking venom out of you.”
Whoa. Lucky her face was already about as pink as it got, because that... Damn, who was seducing who here?
After another few steps the foliage cleared. They were on a cliff top, overlooking a sparkling cove nestled between steep bluffs. A boat was moored in it, close enough to make out the faces of the three Asian men aboard. One looked up, straight at her. Holy shit, this was her chance. She inhaled, ready to scream.
Jack spun Holly and captured her in a bruising kiss, his hands pinning her neck. Laughter floated up from the boat. He was making them look like the honeymooners they were supposed to be.
She scratched at his back and kicked out, but he drove her backward. Her spine hit a tree, the shock spinning out through her torso. He flattened her, one arm pinning her right elbow to her side and enclosing her left wrist, immobilizing her upper body, while his other huge hand held her head in place like a neck brace. His eyes were focused on the boat below them, scoping out the men.
If he could play dirty, so could she. She drove her knee toward his groin but he turned his hip, deflecting it. He hooked a foot around her calf and captured it, leaving her balanced on one leg. She tried to wriggle, but she was stuck to him like glue. Her lungs stung. With her one free hand she clawed his waist, regretting her stubby fingernails. His skin flinched but he held firm.
She bit his lip, hard. He grunted. Warm metallic liquid seeped into her mouth. He pushed against her lips until she could do nothing but concentrate on inhaling desperately through her nose. His eyes were so close to hers, so fierce, that she shut her own. The spicy, sweaty scent of him mixed with the ripe aroma of the jungle and the fresh hit of sea air. She felt woozy, like she would pass out.
An outboard motor spat and blatted into life. Damn. The sound crescendoed, then faded, and still Jack kept her pinned. As disappointment coursed through her, her muscles relaxed. She became aware of his strength and heat, his hips driven into her, his arm flattening her breasts, his hand cradling her throat. She couldn’t move, but he wasn’t hurting her. Fight me, and I will win. No shit.
Okay, Capitaine, you win this battle. But I’ll win the war. She inhaled deeply through her nose, softened her lips against his, sinking into him, returning the kiss as she flattened her palm onto his hip, her fingers splayed over thick, tight muscles. Time she seized some control.
The rattle of the boat became hard to discern. Abruptly, he stumbled back, wiping blood from his lip. She slid down the tree trunk to the ground, panting.
His dark eyes were on fire. “Not the kind of men you want to attract, princess.”
“And you are?” She could barely spit out the words.
“Remember how I threatened to hurt you? I might show mercy. These men? They wouldn’t.”
“Who were they?”
“Pirates. The real thing.”
“How do you know that?”
“You see any fishing rods? Around here, the locals don’t go boating for pleasure. Especially not with an AK-47. My guess is they were scoping us out.”
Her eyes widened. A gun? “Can they get onto the island?”
“If they’ve got this close in a boat that small, they’re familiar with the currents and reefs. But the only place to land anything bigger than a surfboard is the lagoon right on high tide, and the entrance to it is dangerous. And they’ve lost the element of surprise.”
“I thought you said this was a honeymoon island? Being kidnapped by pirates isn’t my idea of romance. No
