White Hot by Nina Bruhns

Author:Nina Bruhns [Bruhns, Nina]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: PENGUIN group
Published: 2012-08-06T14:00:00+00:00

Hiding in the cramped head, Clint listened as Tango One stormed through the salon, spewing a torrent of shouts and exclamations, heading for the crew quarters.

Holding his breath, he eased the lock home. Not that it mattered. This was his Alamo, and Clint knew it. Damned if he ran, damned if he stayed. Damned if he shot the bastard, damned if he didn’t.

Tango One marched along the passageway slamming open stateroom doors. When he got to the head and found it locked, he pounded on the door with his fist.

Okay, then. Shoot the bastard it is.

Oddly calmed by the resolution, Clint’s body went instinctively into a fighting stance. He raised his gun for the killing shot.

Tango One’s barked order was followed by another fist bang.

Clint coiled his muscles in readiness, which made the chocolate bar in his gut twinge….

Suddenly an idea blossomed.

What the hell. He splayed his free hand over his mouth and let out a low, pathetic moan.

Tango One growled something and pounded again with his fist. Significantly, the door handle did not wiggle.

A good sign? Clint drew in a breath and made a very rude sound using his lips and tongue, then moaned again. He flushed the head for good measure.

Tango One was silent for a long moment.

Seriously?

On a roll, Clint made himself burp, let out another nasty noise, and mumbled some muted Arapaho words behind his hand that he hoped to hell at least remotely resembled garbled Chinese.

After a huffed expletive, Tango One barked another order at the door then stomped off.

Unbelievable. Clint let out the mental breath he’d been holding and slowly lowered the gun as Tango One clomped back up to the pilothouse. Yeah, this may be a temporary reprieve, but he’d take it.

If nothing else, it would give him time to deal with those rocket launchers.

He checked the passageway and started back across, but another sound caught his attention. He halted in the darkness. A soft clicking noise ticked down from the bridge. He frowned. It sounded like…

Like switches being flipped and settings being keyed in on the helm controls.

His back went arrow straight as he spun toward the dim square of light at the top of the companionway. What the—

Suddenly, the trawler’s engines wheezed, farted twice, and fired to life with a powerful rumble that made the whole boat vibrate—and Clint’s blood chill.

Ah, hell.

Before he could pry himself back into action, the engines geared up and Eliza Jane began to move.

Okay. This was not good.

He sprinted forward to the salon and shifted aside a porthole curtain to see what direction they were headed in. The boat was chugging in a slow, wide circle. She seemed to be aligning herself to come alongside Île de Cœur.

Not a total surprise, but at this hour? It must be well after midnight by now.

He frowned. Maybe a change of guard? Team meeting? Abandoning ship? If so, which ship…?

The good news was, whatever was happening, this would save him one seriously uncomfortable swim—with a bleeding open wound and a ripped wetsuit.

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