Page 51 of Uncharted Desires

“You’re decently good at driving a speedboat, especially one-handed,” he said, breaking the silence.

She lifted her head, still holding her arm against her chest. “I grew up in the Midwest. Not a whole lot to do. The lake is a big summer activity. We didn’t do much else growing up, like vacations, eating out, or expensive Christmases, but we had a boat.”

“I’m grateful you did. You got us out of there, Kat. That’s the second time today you saved me.”

He looked at the blue and purple bruise growing on the arm opposite of her stitched-up one. He had to get her to a doctor. Between her amateur stitches and potentially broken arm, she needed a hospital.

“How’d you get out of your binds anyway?” he asked.

She glanced down at her arm. “It hurt, I can tell you that.” She gave a slight self-deprecating laugh. “When you lost your pocketknife it slid near me, and I thought if I could just get to it I could get free, so I tried my feet at first, but they were tied tight. I tilted the chair to the side and fell on my arm.” She frowned, and West wished he could take her pain away.

“I’ll heal,” she said, as if reading his thoughts. “I just wanted freedom. I had to wriggle a bit, but I got my hands on the knife and cut my bindings. You kept that Williams kid distracted, and that was all I needed to cut myself free.”

West touched her arm and Kat let out a stream of air. “Babe, I wish this was over. I don’t know how many times I can say I’m sorry.” He kissed the top of her head and wrapped his arm around her.

She nuzzled in closer. “Where did you find the gun?” he asked.

She stiffened. “There was a cabinet sitting wide open. There were a bunch of them in there. Do you think I killed him? I know he was a bad man, but . . .”

“Kat.” He stroked her hair, so smooth it still felt like silk across his calloused fingers. It was a simple and intimate gesture that he had never done with other women. “I saw him move. I’m sure he’s alive, but even if he’s not, he tried to kill us. He deserves whatever happens to him.”

“I was aiming for his shoulder, but I’ve only shot a real gun once. I guess I’m not a very good shot.”

West chuckled. “It was an excellent shot to me.”

She snuggled in closer and sighed, and West continued to stroke her hair and her arms, his mind reeling as he contemplated the sheer terror that had come over him when he thought he’d almost lost her. How he had almost torn that entire compound up bit by bit to find her. It had turned his stomach sour as he saw her flirt with the boss to get him to untie her.

She was his and only his, and as medieval and antiquated as that thought was, he didn’t care. Feelings were bubbling beneath the surface he couldn’t quite name when it came to Kat, and he wasn’t sure what he would do if she didn’t feel the same.

He listened to the sound of her even breathing, glad she could fall asleep. They would have to find a way to Jakarta tomorrow. It was time for them to get home.

Fifteen

The next day, Kat saw the sun rising through the vines covering their hiding spot. In the full morning light, she could see how close they were to the rock wall, as the boat barely fit in the small space. She had a blanket and a pair of muscular arms wrapped around her, and it took everything within her to not sigh in contentment. Where West had found the blanket, coarse as it was, she had no idea.

They slept reclined on the bow of the boat, where one would usually lie to sunbathe, and he had tucked her into his side. Somehow, he had moved her without her noticing. He looked so angelic as he slept. His dark blond hair, slightly graying at his temples, practically glowed as the morning sun showed through, bouncing light off his head. She was loath to wake him, but it was time for them to get home. They needed to get to safety. As much as she wanted their time together to never end, for it to be the two of them lost to the ocean forever, they were being hunted by drug dealing murderers and needed help.

Her mind was still reeling after shooting a man. Kat had never felt comfortable with guns or considered them a means for solving problems. It had been one reason she had left the Midwest. When every neighbor, classmate, and even friend seemed to think guns were the answers to problems, she felt like she didn’t belong. It was going to take her a while to process the fact that she might have killed someone. The more disturbing part was that while she aimed for his shoulder, she hadn’t cared if she had killed him in the moment.

When she had seen Lock level the gun at West, her heart fell out of her body, and she knew instantly that she would do anything to save him, even throwing herself in front of the bullet, which she had almost done. For a split second, she had almost yelled out to Lock to take her instead, to do what he wanted with her and to let West go, but then she had seen the gun cabinet and grabbed a gun instead. While she had aimed for his shoulder but had hit him in the chest, and in that split second, she hadn’t cared. West didn’t deserve to die, and she couldn’t imagine her life without him.

She couldn’t tell him she might have feelings for him, of course. What if he said it back? What if he didn’t? Kat couldn’t decide which scenario she preferred because either way it ended with her brokenhearted.

She felt him stir at her back, and turned in his arms as he opened his eyes, entirely too blue and even brighter against the backdrop of the ocean.

“Mmmm, good morning, sweetheart,” he grumbled, his voice still gruff from sleep, the sound instantly sending shockwaves through Kat’s body. He gripped her tighter and pulled her close, his mouth coming down on hers, his tongue slipping between her lips. She sighed and he took advantage of the invitation as his tongue met hers, and she felt warmth instantly pooling at her center. He had given her the orgasm of her life a day ago, and yet she wanted more. His large hand cupped her nape, pulling her closer as he sat up so that they were now face-to-face. He explored her mouth with his, while his hands explored her body, cautious of her injured arms. Kat wanted nothing more than to keep this going, but she knew they couldn’t. They had to get back. She couldn’t let her heart win over her head this time.

“West,” she said into his mouth, pushing his hands off her, pulling herself back. “West, we have to go.”

“Go?” He looked surprised.

“Yes, go.” She gave him one quick kiss on the underside of his jaw. “We have a boat. We need to get to safety. It’s time we got home and alerted the authorities about those men.”

He looked down at his crotch and back at her. “We’re not going to take care of this?”

Kat laughed. “West, come on!”

He grimaced and adjusted himself. “Fine, Kat, but we’re not done with this conversation. You can’t let me taste heaven and not let me have the whole meal.”