Navy Seal Captive. Elle James
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do it. I’ll explain when you get away from the shore.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes,” she said, holding on tightly as they sped away from the beach and hit a wave full-on. Water splashed up in her face before she could close her mouth. She swallowed some and choked, spitting salt water.
He slowed. “Are you okay?”
“Please, just go out to sea.” She clung to his back, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. “Your life depends on it.”
“Okay.” He shook his head but twisted his hand on the throttle, heading out to sea, taking them farther and farther from the beach.
When they were a good quarter of a mile out, he slowed the vehicle to a stop and half turned to face her. “Now, do you mind telling me what the hell just happened?”
Jenna glanced back at the shore. “How far can a bullet travel?”
“What?” Sawyer stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Not that I’m not flattered, but what does that have to do with hijacking me and my WaveRunner?”
She wiped the salty water from her face and bit her lip. “You’re not going to believe this.” Shaking her head, she tried to pull the words together in her mind before blurting them out.
“Believe what?” His scowl deepened. “Woman, you aren’t making sense. And if you don’t start talking, I’m heading back to shore before we run out of gas or the engine decides to quit. I’m pretty sure we’re farther out than the attendant recommended.”
Jenna’s heart thumped against her chest and her fingers dug into his waist. “Someone is going to try to kill you.”
For a long moment he stared down at her. “Is that your prediction? Are you a psychic or something?” His lips curled in a derisive smile. “Lady, I’m a SEAL. I get shot at on every mission.”
Jenna shook her head. “How can you believe me when I barely believe what I saw?” She pressed her forehead to his shoulder, grasping for the words. Then she straightened, firming her jaw. “I picked up the wrong suitcase in the lobby of my hotel. When I opened it, I found what I assume were the parts to assemble a sniper’s rifle, complete with a scope.”
Sawyer snorted. “How do you know what a sniper’s rifle looks like? Do you even own a gun?”
Her cheeks heated, and anger spiked inside her. “So, I don’t own a gun, and I don’t know exactly what a sniper’s rifle looks like. But it’s what was with the rifle that made me assume the owner was a sniper, hit man or assassin.”
With a chuckle, Sawyer ran a hand through his dark, wet hair, standing it on end. “Could it be you’ve been watching or reading too many thrillers lately?”
She smacked her palm against his arm. “Damn it, I’m trying to tell you that I found photographs and a note with the weapon. Your photographs. Pictures of you and a note telling the gun owner to bring you to wherever they were going to meet by nine o’clock tonight. Dead or alive.”
This time Sawyer sat still, his gaze pinning hers.
Jenna held steady, lifting her chin.
“How do I know you’re not some nutcase desperate for male companionship and will come up with any cockamamie story to get one alone?”
Jenna let go of his waist and scooted back on the seat of the WaveRunner. “Is that what you think?” She slipped even farther back until she teetered on the edge, refusing to touch even one inch of the man’s body. “Do you think I’m so desperate I’d chase a man out into the middle of the ocean just to get him alone?” She shook her head. “You know, I could have taken that case to hotel security and let them handle it.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s your life on the line. Not mine. If you want to ignore the warning I’ve given you out of the sincerest desire to save your sorry carcass, you do that. I’ll just get myself back to shore, because I’d rather swim a mile in shark-infested waters than ride back on a WaveRunner operated by a man with an ego the size of a whale.” She dived into the water before he could say anything or reach out and grab her.
Jenna struck out, headed for shore, weighed down by her beach wrap. She hadn’t done much swimming since she’d been on the high school swim team, and she realized almost immediately that she didn’t have the strength she once had. But sheer anger should fuel her long enough to make it back to shore.
She sure as hell wasn’t going to ride with an arrogant, self-centered, stupid man who could be dead by morning because he thought she was a desperate crackpot.
The WaveRunner engine fired up behind her.
Jenna continued to swim freestyle, trying to remember how to time her breathing and making smooth, steady strokes, pacing herself so that she wouldn’t get too tired too quickly.
Sawyer pulled up beside her. “Get on.”
She ignored him, choosing to breathe rather than waste her strength arguing.
Damn the man, but he kept pace with her, bobbing beside her on the water craft.
“I’m sorry,” Sawyer said. “I shouldn’t have called you a desperate nutcase.”
It was a start, but he had a long way to go before she forgave him for saying all those nasty things to her. Jenna plowed through the buoyant salt water, one stroke at a time, refusing to acknowledge the man.
He sped up, pulling ahead of her.
Fine. Go back to shore.
Jenna would make it on her own. She didn’t need a man to rescue her. The men in her life hadn’t proven to be very reliable. Or at least her ex-fiancé hadn’t. Sawyer, though not really a part of her life, wasn’t much better. She’d done him a favor. Tried to save his sorry life. And what did she get in return? Grief. To hell with him. He could be shot for all she cared.
A splash ahead made her stop and tread water.
The WaveRunner seat was empty, and Sawyer was nowhere to be seen.
Jenna’s pulse jumped and she spun in a circle, searching for him.
Had the assassin gunned him down?
She looked for the telltale sign of blood mixing with the ocean water but couldn’t see any. Dragging in a deep breath, she dived beneath the surface in search of Sawyer’s body.
Salt water stung her eyes before she’d swum four feet toward the WaveRunner. Jenna surfaced, blinking.
The water erupted, and Sawyer’s face appeared in front of her.
Jenna started to scream, inhaled a gulp of ocean and coughed until tears streamed from her eyes and she sank below the water.
A strong arm wrapped around her middle and dragged her to the surface. “Are you all right?” Sawyer spun her to face him and pushed the sodden hanks of hair from her face.
“I thought you were dead,” she said, her voice hoarse from coughing.
He shook his head. “I’m okay. It’s you I was worried about. It’s too far for you to swim back, and there might be a riptide. I couldn’t let you do it.”
She drew in a steadying breath and glared at him. “You could have been shot.”
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t.”
“But you could have been.” She wiped tears from her eyes, pushed at his chest and swam away from him, using a breaststroke.
“I’m really sorry I didn’t take you seriously,” Sawyer said, easily keeping pace.
Jenna