Tequila Sunrise by Layla Reyne

Author:Layla Reyne
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2017-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Danny swiveled in the corner chair in the stateroom, sneaking out his phone and texting Mel and Jamie when his back was to the room. It was a risk, but Mel and Jamie needed to know what was really going on. And they needed to know another innocent was involved.

Behind the desk, Austin was sweating bullets. The kid looked equal parts stymied and nauseated. A deep groove was carved between his brows, moisture dappled his forehead, and he was pale as a ghost, teeth gnawing into his lower lip as he typed furiously on a laptop. Danny wanted to feel smug—Jamie’s system was unhackable—but he couldn’t when Austin was terrified and obviously here against his will. What had Sonja’s people threatened him with? A threat to his family? Or his job? Was he some IT nerd at Lynch who’d watched porn on his work computer and been leveraged into corporate sabotage?

The gun in Danny’s sock weighed heavily. He could use it now, while Sonja’s back was turned, to shoot his way out of there. But while he could take out Sonja, could he make it past her mercs outside too? With a spooked Austin in tow? And would his shootout compromise Mel, Jamie, Cam or any of the other guests on board? By staying here in the stateroom, he had the inside track on what these guys were doing. He could text another warning, if the need arose.

And he could coach Austin through not losing his shit. “Breathe, kid,” he whispered low.

Austin blew out a giant breath and shot him a pleading glance. “You sure you can’t get into the admin controls?”

Danny shook his head. An hour ago, yes. But once Jamie had locked it down from the bridge, the only person who could crack it was—

The man being shoved through the stateroom door.

Jamie had clearly been in some sort of altercation. His light brown hair was ruffled, his bottom lip split, and an impressive bruise was blooming over his right cheekbone. He’d been relieved of his tux jacket, his bowtie hung loose, and his white dress shirt was wrinkled and spotted with blood. But despite his hassled appearance, his blue eyes were sharp and alert, narrowing when Danny stood and took a step toward him. Jamie shook his head once and Danny diverted toward Austin, resting a hip against the desk’s edge. As he did, Jamie ran two fingers in front of his ear, like he was scratching an itch, but Danny saw the double tap for what it was. Jamie was wired.

“Where’s Dante?” Sonja asked Paul, who’d followed Jamie into the room.

“The woman with him—” Paul jutted his chin at Jamie “—took Dante out.”

Sonja glanced over her shoulder, glaring at Danny. “A woman?”

Danny shrugged. “Your man did say there were high heels at the scene. I don’t know why you’re surprised.”

“What’d she look like?” Sonja asked without tearing her eyes away.

“Tall, brown skin, dark curly hair. Armed to the teeth.”

“Something tells me your Casanova act was just that,” Sonja said to Danny, then turned back to Paul.

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