Page 19 of Captivating Nash

Nash’s heart dropped into his stomach.

He grabbed the binoculars from the console, lifting them to his eyes, and his blood ran cold. It was a sleek, black speedboat, armed to the teeth, and heading straight for them.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath. “We’ve got company.”

Deanna moved to his side, her face pale as she saw the boat in the distance. “Who is it?”

“Fatima’s people most likely,” Nash said, his voice laced with a grim finality. “I should’ve known they wouldn’t let us get away that easily.”

As the speedboat drew closer, Nash could make out the figures on board—armed men, their weapons gleaming in the sunlight. And at the helm, standing tall and regal, was Fatima Al-Fayed herself. Her sharp, striking features were unmistakable, even from this distance. She had the same cold, calculating look that her father had been known for. The same ruthless ambition.

Nash’s mind raced. His suspicions had been confirmed. They weren’t up against just a few mercenaries. It was Fatima, a woman who was as deadly as she was determined. She wasn’t here just to scare them. She was here to finish the job.

“They’re closing in fast,” Nash growled, spinning the wheel sharply to the right, trying to buy them some time. “Get below deck. Now.”

Deanna didn’t argue. She darted below, her heart racing, while Nash pushedThe Reverieto its limits. The engine roared, the boat cutting through the water as he tried to put as much distance between them and Fatima’s crew as possible. In the distance, gunfire erupted. But the sailboat was built for pleasure not speed, and Fatima’s boat was faster, sleeker, and designed for pursuit.

He cursed under his breath. He knew it was only a matter of time before they caught up.

The speedboat was close enough now that Nash could see the cold smile on Fatima’s face as she stood at the helm, her dark hair blowing in the wind, her eyes locked ontoThe Reverielike a predator hunting its prey. She raised her hand, signaling her men to prepare their weapons.

Nash’s gut twisted. He’d been in tight spots before, but this was different. He wasn’t just fighting for himself—he was fighting for Deanna too. He couldn’t let Fatima take her.

With a surge of adrenaline, Nash veered sharply again, trying to make for a narrow gap between two rock formations just ahead. It was risky, but it was their only chance.

As he steered into the gap, the sound of gunfire ripped through the air. Bullets sprayed across the water, tearing into the side ofThe Reverie.

Nash’s eyes darkened with resolve. He wasn’t going down without a fight.

As they closed the distance, the gunfire got louder as bullets splintered the side ofThe Reverie. Nash’s grip on the wheel tightened, every muscle in his body taut as the danger closed in. His mind raced, calculating their options, knowing full well that the boat couldn’t outrun Fatima’s men for much longer.

They had to make a choice. And fast.

“Deanna!” Nash yelled, his voice carrying over the chaos. “Get ready to move! We’re heading for the island!”

Deanna scrambled up from below deck, her face pale but her eyes were focused, determined. She didn’t ask questions, didn’t waste time hesitating, and in that moment, Nash recognized something in her—she wasn’t just a civilian caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. She had grit, a sharp mind, and an instinct for survival. That was something he could work with.

“Brace yourself,” he barked as he turned the wheel sharply, steeringThe Reverieback toward the shallow waters near the island’s rocky shore. The boat lurched, cutting through the waves at a dangerous angle as bullets continued to whiz past them, spraying into the water with deadly accuracy.

Fatima’s speedboat was closing in too fast. Too close.

Nash’s heart pounded as the narrow gap between the rocks came into view. It was a long shot—a risky move that could end with them smashing the hull on jagged stone. But it was their only chance to evade the speedboat and buy them enough time to get off the water.

With a final surge,The Reverieslid between the rock formations, narrowly missing the cliffs on either side. The speedboat, unable to follow due to needing deeper water, was forced to veer off just before the gap. Nash exhaled sharply, but his relief was short-lived.

They were far from safe.

“We’re going ashore!” Nash called, steering the boat into a hidden cove nestled between thick trees and towering cliffs. The water was shallow enough here that they could jump and run without being too exposed. He powered down the engine, the adrenaline in his veins urging him to move faster.

Deanna was already beside him, her breath coming fast, but she wasn’t panicking. She was waiting for his lead.

There was no time to grab the guns in the weapons locker. Nash leapt from the boat first, landing in the knee-deep water and turning to help Deanna down. Her fingers gripped his tightly as she jumped into the surf beside him, her eyes wide but steady. They waded quickly to shore, the dense jungle rising up in front of them like a fortress. It was thick with vegetation—perfect for disappearing, if they could move fast enough.

“Go,” Nash urged, his voice low and controlled. “We need to put distance between us and them.”

Deanna nodded without hesitation, and they took off into the trees, the thick undergrowth slowing them down but providing much-needed cover. Nash kept his senses sharp, his eyes scanning the shadows around them, listening for any signs that Fatima’s men had followed. His boots crushed leaves and branches beneath his feet, the smell of damp earth filling his nose as they pushed deeper into the island’s interior.

He knew Fatima wouldn’t give up easily. She was ruthless, determined to avenge her father’s death and claim her place in the arms trade. And she had her sights set on whatever tech they’d uncovered in that scuttled ship.

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