Page 15 of Austen

“I’m trusting you,” Stein said, his gaze hard on Declan.

Declan suddenly felt like he was back at boot camp on his way to do push-ups without knowing why.

No, worse.He was back in Afghanistan, the horror coiling around him as?—

“Keep me updated,” Stein said.Then he and Hawkeye took off toward the parking lot.

Declan jogged back to the bar.Motioned to the waitress as he pulled out his credit card.She came over, and he handed her the card.

“We need a takeout box.”

Then he looked at the Jamesons.“We’re leaving port.Right now.”

Hey, Austen.Stay alive.I will find you.

* * *

She’d taken cover in the lions’ den.Because rash decisions led to lethal mistakes.

At least for now, Emberly was safe.Ish—safeish.What was the penalty for stowing away in international waters?Walking the plank?Thirty lashes?

But what choice did she have with the Petrov Bratva on her tail?

So maybe, yes, it had been a bad idea to stick around the island of Mariposa for the last two months, trying to get a bead on exactly what the Russians on the other side of the mountain were up to.

Maybe she shouldn’t have alerted them to her presence by stealing a four-wheeler back a couple months ago when she’d escaped the mine with Steinbeck.But hello, the former SEAL, her nemesis-slash-fellow-survivor had been bleeding out.So yes, into a Russian mining camp she went, liberated a four-wheeler, tore out of camp, threw Stein on the back, and hightailed it to town.

Sometimes in her sleep, she still saw herself dumping Stein off at the doorstep of the Mariposa clinic.Wishing that, just once, it didn’t have to end that way with them.

But her life didn’t have room for a happily ever after, so...

She’d done what she had to in order to keep Stein alive.Then she’d hidden out, having missed her getaway flight from the island.Apparently her chopper reservation had been commandeered by someone flying a bunch of injured people to nearby St.Kitts.

Declan Stone, pretending to be a hero instead of the mastermind of this colossal mess.

One did not get in bed with the Russian mob and survive.Unless one was part of their evil echelon.

Oh, she wanted to take him down, destroy his empire.Just because a guy gave millions away to a charitable organization—or many—that didn’t make him a hero.

Or even a good guy.

But the last place she’d thought she’d end up was on his very yacht.She’d had few choices—as in,none—when one of the Russian thugs tracked her down in Mariposa.

So she’d liberated a uniform from the catering crew stocking the yacht, then walked aboard, introduced herself to Chef Camille as Declan’s new hire(What?He didn’t tell you?), had netted herself a ticket out of Dodge.

Her great escape meant a week on a luxury yacht, which might not have been so bad if she weren’t a scullery rat and a cabin maid.

“Declan has guests tonight, so I’ll need you to serve, along with Jermaine.”The words came from Chef Camille, Declan’s fancy chef from France, who had no problem filling up the sink with a thousand pots as she created Declan’s gourmet dinner.

A dinner she’d be AWOL for.But Emberly just smiled, nodded, and kept scrubbing one of Camille’s dirty pots, her apron wet, her short dark hair in a net, her hands parched as she counted the hours until her shift ended and she escaped off theInvictusand into Key West.

Okay, she didn’t hate her choice of transportation, even with her lack of options.Big enough to hide in with its three stories and numerous lounge areas, the boat also had a Jacuzzi, a couple of Jet Skis on the swim deck, and a fire-table lounge area on the top sky deck.

Built for luxury for sure, bought with his dirty terrorist millions.

At least Emberly had her own cubby in the crew quarters, a bunk that came equipped with a light and a locked compartment, and a curtain for privacy.Still, she shared the hallway with some kid named Tyrone, the skinny deckhand; and Jermaine, a former Navy corpsman from Puerto Rico; and the engineer, Raphael, who kept to himself and spent his off-shift hours reading.Ivek, the big Swede, and Teresa, the captain, had their own cabins, and Chef Camille slept in a cabin off the kitchen.

Not a bad crew, and Chef Camille was focused and maybe a little exacting, but more bossy than unkind.

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