Page 83 of Austen

Declan considered it for a second, then shook it.

“You’re not going to let them find that ship, are you?”Steinbeck said.

Her eyes widened as Declan considered Stein.

Her brother held up a hand.“If, say, a guy was planning some sort of sabotage of your yacht, what would it be?”

Declan glanced out the window, back at Steinbeck.“If a guy knew where the lithium batteries were, in the front bow garage, he might damage them so they’d light on fire.Once they’re on fire, nothing can stop them.”

“The ship would go down,” Steinbeck said.

“It would.”

Silence.

Wait—was he?—

Declan looked back at Austen, so much in his eyes that she didn’t know how to unpack it.Finally, “Stay safe.”

What?No.“Declan!”

But he ignored her, walked to the door, and knocked.It opened and he said something in Russian.

And if she hadn’t believed it before, all the accusations that Phoenix had leveled at him about being Dark Horse and a Russian contact and a smuggler and a terrorist—all clicked into place.

He was a criminal and a hero.

And she could not love a criminal.

Her eyes filled as Declan stepped out and the door closed behind him.

Steinbeck kept staring at the door.

“What?”she said.

He seemed to be lost in thought, and then he looked at her and shook his head.“Nothing.But he’s right.The most important thing to do is get you off this ship.”He turned to her.“And as far away from Declan Stone as possible.”

* * *

It might be a twin thing, but Steinbeck knewexactlyhow Austen felt.A tight clenching in the gut and a sense of fury and despair all wrapped up in a hard ball inside the chest.Yeah, he totally got it as he watched Austen sitting on the bed, her knees pulled up, her forehead braced against them.

He’d spent the last hour, while watching Declan pace, trying to tell himself that yes, Phoenix was just fine.Shehadn’tbeen captured by some Russians, or worse—killed.She’d somehow gotten away.

And ditched him.

“I’ll be right behind you.I promise.”

He wanted to hit something because leaving her had been therightthing to do.He’d known it in his gut even as he’d told Declan to drive away.And he’d hated it anyway.

Then they’d been taken captive again, andshoot, Steinbeck nearly wanted to go over the side of the rail, swim his way back to Havana and find her.

But priorities said he had to stay and rescue Austen.And sure, Austen was plenty capable, even knew how to face down sharks, but terrorists were a different kind of danger, and frankly, he wanted her off this boat ASAP.

But if Declan thought Stein was leaving him behind, he had another thing coming.Stein would get Austen into that life raft, push her out to sea, and then help Declan take down the Russians.Because Declan’s story dug deep inside Steinbeck.Declan was hiding something.And it was just outside Steinbeck’s reach.There was something bigger afoot, like Declan said, and if Steinbeck thought hard enough, he could figure it out.

Unfortunately, his brain kept circling back to yesterday in the harbor, when he’d gone overboard, splashing into the water in Phoenix’s wake.

He’d surfaced in the murky water, his head on a swivel for boats ready to run him over, and made a beeline for the nearest pier.He’d come up again between a couple of fishing trawlers tied to the dock.

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