Page 27 of Hostile Extraction

She backed up, her eyes darting around the room for any type of weapon. Her hand closed over the only thing she could find, a large glass dolphin figurine. She hurled it at his head, but he raised his arm, twisting to dodge it, and it easily bounced off his hard bicep.

“Stay back,” she screamed.

“Asia, it’s me.” The man tugged the hood of his wetsuit, revealing his full head and face.

It was a face she knew well, and suddenly she was catapulted back in time to her eighteenth birthday when he’d kissed her for the first time. Dusty Jones. Her brother’s best friend. The man she’d crushed on since she was fourteen. His brown eyes had more creases radiating from the corners, like he was in the sun a lot, and his strong jaw had a sexy growth of stubble on it, that somehow made him even more attractive than when she’d last seen him. She still had that same visceral reaction to him he’d always drawn from her. She’d never met a more attractive man in her life, and she doubted she ever would. What was he doing here on Nico’s yacht? She blinked. Were her eyes deceiving her?

His being there didn’t make sense. None of this made sense. It took her a moment to find her voice. “Dusty?”

His eyes swept over her, taking in her pajamas with the pink striped shorts that barely covered her ass and the matching spaghetti-string top in pale pink. Those eyes she’d fallen in love with so many years ago took in her legs, then backtracked up, pausing on her braless breasts. She watched the Adam’s apple in his throat bob, and then he spoke. “Yeah, it’s me, Asia. You need to come with us.”

“Us?”

He jerked his head over his shoulder where another man stood in the passageway, appearing to guard them from any crew who might come to her rescue. “My team.”

“Dusty, what’s going on? Why are you here? My God, you shot that man. I don’t understand any of this.”

“We’re here to rescue you. Come on.” He lifted his arm, turned his palm up, and motioned with his fingers for her to come to him. “Hurry. We don’t have much time. Our fast boat will be here momentarily. Grady’s on deck signaling them now.”

“Rescue me? I don’t need rescuing.”

Dusty seemed to be done with explanations and stepped forward to grab her wrist. “Let’s move.”

He dragged her to the door. She dug her heels in and grabbed the frame, but it was like trying to stop a Mack truck. “Let me go. This is insane. Help!”

He paused and turned back to her, yanking her against him until their faces were inches apart. “Quiet. No one’s coming. We’ve taken care of that. I’m trying to save your life. Now quit fighting me.”

She pulled back. “What are you talking about?”

He stopped listening and dragged her behind him. She had no choice but to hobble after him. When he realized she was limping, he swept her in a fireman’s carry, and suddenly she was over his shoulder, staring at the floor with her hair hanging in her face.

She beat on his back. “Put me down. I’m not going anywhere with you. Help! Captain! Kristina! Anyone!”

Dusty carried her up on deck and to the aft platform where she saw the dark shadowed form of a large rubber boat with a big motor and two more men aboard, and another standing nearby, ready to help Dusty and the other man.

She fought as hard as she could, but the three of them easily overpowered her, making her thrashing seem almost laughable. They manhandled her onto the platform and into the bobbing craft.

She screamed again.

“Keep her quiet,” someone hissed from inside the craft.

Soon, she was positioned into Dusty’s arms, with him behind her, one arm locked tight around her waist and the other gloved hand clamped over her mouth. Her screams were muffled, but she kept trying. The motor started up, and the boat roared away, churning a large wake behind it. She watched the lights of the yacht fade into the distance, and with it her dreams of marrying Nico.

Nico. He’d come for her. He’d save her.

Her chest rose and fell as she struggled; why she didn’t know. There was no place to go except into the dark, cold water that raced beside them.

Why did Dusty do this? These men were, for all intents and purposes, abducting her. What did he plan to do with her? She felt so helpless, and fear bubbled in her throat. Her eyes stung with tears, but they dried in the wind as they sped along.

She watched the lights of St. John fade behind them.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Under the cover of night, they moved her from the boat to a waiting pickup at the end of a dock. She was squeezed between Dusty and one of the men who slid behind the wheel. The other three men vaulted into the bed of the truck, and one of them banged his palm on the roof of the cab.

They sped away from the harbor and through the streets of what must be St. Thomas Island.

Dusty looked over at the man driving. “How far is it from Red Hook to the airport?”

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