Minutes later, I moved to full throttle. She remained right by my side, staring at the AIS, the green blips indicating other craft in the water.

  The entire situation was dicey as fuck and during the almost hour-long ride, neither one of us said anything.

  Both Navarro and Kruz were behind us, lagging only by a few minutes, a full squad of soldiers accompanying them. However, would the numbers be enough to stop the hijacking?

  It was entirely possible this would blow up in our faces.

  As well as end with significant casualties. I had to believe this wasn’t a ploy. If it was, our entire empire could be crushed in a matter of hours.

  But this was just another risk in the enticing game of chess.

  “What if this is a different game?” Genevieve shouted.

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning if the cargo ship is the same size, what’s not to use ours as a shadow, attempting to throw off the coast guard?”

  I thought about what she was saying. “Meaning this has little to do with taking our cargo, but in using it as a ploy to protect theirs.”

  “Exactly. Our ship will be taken, both of us arrested. An easier way for a takeover.”

  Much easier.

  My jaw clenched as I realized she could be right.

  “Then we do what needs to be done.”

  “We blow them out of the water?”

  “Maybe, baby. Maybe.”

  While we had no issue with the coast guard on our way out, if she was right, there was a distinct possibility the Algerians would be called to engage. Our route was close enough to what they considered their waters that they might cross the imaginary line.

  And the bastards didn’t like me very much since I’d killed the previous incoming president, almost pushing their economy into a recession. Little had the people known how dirty the man was. His death had only made him a martyr.

  It was entirely possible Fassi had learned about that since they were bordering countries.

  The powerful engine in the boat didn’t fail me and soon we were able to see our cargo ship in the distance. It didn’t take long to discover they were under fire. Getting on the ship would be dicey as fuck.

  “Benito. Take the wheel. Lazarro. You’re coming with us,” I directed. I pulled the radio into my hand. “Kruz. Navarro. Our ship is under attack. Kruz, take another boat and board the other cargo ship. Navarro, head in our direction.”

  Genevieve tossed me my assault rifle and threw the strap to another one over her shoulder.

  The men grunted out acceptance. This was as close to being a suicide mission as I’d allowed. But it had to be done.

  I contacted the captain, hearing gunfire as soon as he connected to the radio.

  “What do we have?” I barked out.

  “Three boats. Lots of firepower. Several soldiers on board. They’re trying to get onto the bridge.” The bridge was blocked off, reinforced with steel under my direction. At least it should buy us some time.

  “How many?”

  “At least fifteen.”

  Fifteen. I’d keep that in mind.

  “Shift away from Algerian waters.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Minutes passed that seemed to take forever as Benito maneuvered toward the embarkation ladder.

  “Stay here. Just stay here,” I told her as I gauged success in getting her onboard.

  “Trust me, Jago. I can do this.”

  With every muscle tense, Benito slowed again, his skills decent enough he kept the two boats from colliding. Before we had a chance to climb on board, shots rang out.

  In the next several seconds, firepower was exchanged. I pushed her down and took aim, catching two of them almost immediately.

  She maintained cover, displaying her expert marksmanship by leveling her weapon and killing three on one boat, then at least one more. One enemy boat veered off, the engine still revved although the captain was dead.

  The other captain sped up, moving elsewhere, but they would be back.

  We had seconds to spare and I jumped onto the ladder first, immediately reaching for her. She swung her body onto the edge of the boat, stretching out her arm. The full moon told no lies. Terror accompanied a rush of adrenaline. I could see it in her eyes.

  But her determination won out. I managed to grab her arm and together we climbed the ladder, other soldiers following.

  “Benito, toss squibs onto the enemy boats,” she called out. “It looks like a stick of dynamite.”

  The woman had no fear.

  Once on board, in a matter of seconds we were faced with enemy fire.

  I dropped and rolled, yelling at her to do the same. I shouldn’t have bothered. She’d obviously been trained very well.

  There was shouting. More gunfire.

  Navarro and his men appeared, rushing toward us.

  Suddenly, there was a massive explosion off to the side as one of the enemy cigarette boats went up in flames.

  I backed her against the boat’s hull, glancing to make certain she was okay before motioning to my men. “You’re brilliant, baby. Your squib worked.”

  “Told you.”

  Navarro took his soldiers in the other direction.

  We took off running the other way. When a soldier jumped from the shadows, Genevieve immediately reacted, yanking out her handgun and shooting the man before he had a chance to put a bullet in my head.

  Laughing, we continued as I mentally took count of the number of soldiers we’d hit. Minutes ticked by.

  More gunfire.

  More yelling.

  We were close to the bridge.

  Pop! Pop!

  Two more went down who were trying to break in. The captain had kept them from doing so.

  Suddenly, the gunfire stopped. Now only the sound of the engine could be heard.

  We both leaned against the hull, glancing at the water.

  “We got nine,” I told her.

  “Six left,” she said.

  “One left,” Navarro corrected. “We exterminated five.”

  “We hunt until we find him.” I pulled her hand, forcing her behind me. We moved into the first of two cargo holds, fanning out.

  Three minutes later we’d determined the soldier wasn’t hiding. Very cautiously we moved to the second, this one containing at least forty percent more crates than the first.

  As we moved around the containers, we remained silent.

  There was no mistaking the whispered sound of a gun being cocked. It was just enough I located the direction. With no time to wait, I spun a full one hundred and eighty degrees, pulling both Genevieve and myself to the deck just as I took a single shot.

  And hit the enemy soldier right between the eyes.

  Exhaling, Navarro and the others raced around a line of crates, flanking us on both sides.

  Her breathing was heavy and I peered down at her. “Are you okay?”

  “Uh-huh. But I don’t think I want to do this again,” she murmured.

  “Don’t worry, baby. New sets of rules and you will not break them.”

  I helped her to her feet and wrapped one arm around her, pulling her tightly against me, both breathing heavily.

  “The other boat is floating in the water,” Navarro breathed. “Unmanned.”

  “Good. We need to get to the other boat. Check with the captain about his men and make certain there are no mechanical issues.”

  “Not a problem.” He glanced at Genevieve and there was an entirely different look in his eyes than before. “I mean no disrespect, Madame Morales.”

  “Torres,” she corrected, a wry grin on her face.

  “Torres,” he repeated. “But you kicked some goddamn ass.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” she told him.

  I shook my head. “Yeah, you did.”

  We headed from the cargo hold and carefully made it back onto our boat with Benito’s help. Remarkably, the MTI hadn’t been damaged or taken on water. Maybe the gods I’d prayed to had smiled on us.

  She slumped down in one of the seats, dropping her head into her hands while I tried to contact Kruz. “Are you in control of the boat?”

  Kruz didn’t respond right away.

  “Kruz. What’s the status?” I tried again.

  When there still was no response, Genevieve moved beside me.

  “Kruz. Report.”

  “Boss. I’m here. Jesus. I had a bit to take care of.”

  “Which means?”

  “Rough crew, but they’re under control.”

  “Crew origin and destination.”

  “Moroccan and destination is the same port we were headed into in Rome.”

  I chuckled again and turned to face my lovely bride. “What is their cargo?”

  “A few party favors and women in cages. Several crates of military grade weapons.”

  “Fuck,” she hissed.

  “What else?” I threw out.

  Kruz laughed out loud. “You were right. Diamonds.”

  A slow grin formed across her face. “How many?”

  “Oh, let’s just say enough to put every jewelry store in Europe and the United States out of business. Forget the diamond exchange. We’re talking hundreds of millions.”

  Kruz’s answer tickled her.

  “What do you want me to do? Reroute them?” he asked.

  Neither Genevieve nor I blinked. I could tell exactly what she was thinking. “Hold on, Kruz. Let me discuss this with my partner.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “So what do we do?” I asked her.

  She glanced at the cargo ship. “We could be rolling in dough for the rest of our lives.”

  “We could.”

  “I could have diamonds as playthings.”

  “As many as you wanted,” I told her, still grinning.

  “Tough decision.” She looked me in the eyes once again and placed her hand on my chest above my heart. “You’re going to do the right thing. The women will be returned home, the diamonds back to whatever people they were stolen from, and the firearms won’t be used to kill innocent children. The drugs? Well, that I can’t speak to.”

  “The right thing. You’re sure that’s what should happen? That’s what you want.”

  “Yep. I’m sure. And do you know why?” she asked.

  “No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

  “Because you’re a decent man, someone who is crusty on the outside, but all marshmallow goo inside.”

  I coughed and glanced toward the other soldiers, who were trying to act as if they weren’t paying any attention. “Hardly, darling. But that’s something we’ll discuss when we get home.”

  “Home. I admit I like the sound of that.”

  “Yeah, me too.” I returned to the radio. “Kruz. I’m contacting the coast guard. Make certain the women are freed and given whatever they need until they’re taken to safety.”

  “You sure, boss?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. It’s the right thing to do.”

  The right thing. My father would call me a fool, but it wasn’t every day that a man in my position was capable of doing something good, something that wouldn’t haunt me for years to come.

  I was a brutal bastard, a man with no conscience, but I’d been lucky enough to see the world entirely differently through the eyes of a woman I’d come to… love.

  What would happen in the future?

  Who the fuck knew, but we’d climb that mountain when it came.

  CHAPTER 38

  Five weeks later…

  Genevieve

  I blamed late-night craving on Kristy Kreme donuts.

  Glazed.

  Eclairs.

  Frosted strawberry.

  Hell, I’d take a jelly donut right about now and they weren’t my favorites.

  I also blamed my husband who’d enticed me with the delicious treats, having four dozen boxes airlifted only two days before to finally replace the ones lost in the late morning melee.

  Exhaling, I stared at the wall in front of me, my concentration shit as of late. Business was booming, including the various legitimate ones I’d insisted on. I had contracts in place, new clients and even the bad guys were coming around to my way of thinking.

  While I was still putting the pieces together, running the new corporation aptly named Morales-Torres Enterprises, thank you very much, it seemed to take all my time.

  And effort.

  I was exhausted lately, barely able to keep my eyes open at night. Five grueling weeks had passed since the last chapter of a horrible novella had embroiled my life. But I was a strong girl. Look what I’d lived through.

  Since then, the peace and quiet had been almost… boring.

  Not that I should be bored with a man like Jago. He was still always on edge, treating me as if he left me alone for too long, I’d vanish.

  Poof.

  Was he suddenly having memory problems? Did he not remember I’d defended myself pretty damn well after three attacks and a wild adventure at sea? Or maybe it was four attacks. The entire two weeks had run together into one huge blur.

  That only eating donuts solved.

  I laughed and glared at the computer screen, noticing the time. Oops. I’d promised to attempt to make dinner tonight, which meant leaving early. Like a real person. Like we were a normal little family.

  Right.

  I’d likely burn the dish I had planned, but what the heck? It was better than going out to all those fabulous restaurants, right?

  When I stood, Emiliano finally glanced over at me. He’d arrived with my driver to take me home.

  “Ready to babysit me some more?” I asked, almost angrily.

  He stood, looking entirely too uncomfortable in the suit he was wearing. He wasn’t a suit kind of man, but when the protocol called for it, he’d don one. Grunting, he made his way toward me. “I’m not babysitting you, Madame Torres. I’m keeping you safe. And keeping my nuts intact.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked, then rolled my eyes. “Oh, yes. Jago threatened to feed them to you if you fucked up. Right?”

  The big man looked away red-faced. He was embarrassed that my husband had snarled at him. I almost laughed but pressed my hand against my mouth to keep from it. “So, I thought you were going to bug Rodolpho for kicks and giggles this afternoon instead of hanging around my office like a boat anchor.”

  “You do realize that man must be a serial killer. Right?”

  I snorted when I laughed and bent over to snag my purse from my desk drawer.

  Suddenly, a violent urge came over me and it had nothing to do with donuts.

  Or maybe that’s the exact reason.

  With my hand firmly cupping my mouth, I rushed toward my private bathroom, barely making it inside and on my knees before praying to the porcelain gods.

  I’d eaten way too many donuts the night before and this morning. My infamous six to be exact.

  I’d barely left any for Marco, and he’d complained.

  Bella had snatched one from my hand and I’d almost tackled her to the floor.

  I guess I should be thankful they were both thriving after the horrible ordeals we’d been through. Plural. Capitalized. The kinds that should forever haunt me.

  The type only donuts could cure.

  So there.

  My blame of Krispy Kreme donuts was justified, including eating so many I’d gotten sick.

  Moaning, I flushed the toilet and crawled toward the bathroom sink, finally managing to stand after two tries. My reflection startled me. I looked like shit.

  What the hell? I was supposed to be basking in the glow of being a newlywed.

  Well, okay, so maybe my groom was constantly busy cleaning up the mess we’d both made. But at least the women who’d been abducted and sold as slaves had made it back to their homes, and dozens of truly bad guys had been arrested.

  While the Moroccan pig, Jamal Fassi had gone underground since he’d been stupid enough to steal the diamonds from a Saudi Arabian prince, the Turkish crime boss remained at large.

  That was the reason for Jago’s very testy mood. If I knew him, he’d take care of that.

  If not, I’d hunt the man down myself so we could have some peace and quiet.

  I washed my mouth out and found a mint hiding in my purse as soon as I returned to my office.

  “Are you okay?” Emiliano asked. Both his bushy eyebrows were lifted into sinful furry-looking creatures.

  “Fine. Just the donuts.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Why were the two little syllables highly exaggerated?

  He remained completely oppressive as we walked through the admin pool. He wanted everyone to be afraid of him, but I could tell at least two of the women had their eyes on him.

  I’d heard about it too during their now very short coffee breaks.

  I grinned. Rules. If I had to follow them, so did everyone else.

  He escorted me to the SUV, opening the door like a true gentleman. Once we were both settled inside, I sat back for a nice, quiet ride.

  Until my stomach lurched.

  I held back, breathing instead.

  “Are you sure you’re not sick or something?” Emiliano asked again, another exaggerated word used.

  Oh, God. There was no way. None. Maybe?

  Frowning, I lifted an eyebrow and sucked in my breath. “Hold up.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I need to make a stop. A quick… stop.”

  Jago

  “Motherfucker!”

  Pop! Pop! Pop!

  I kept the gun in the same position as the man slowly began to fall to the concrete floor. It had been a long time coming.

  Too damn long.

  But I’d found Hamza Bata hiding in one of his holes in the wall. Now he was dead, lying in a pool of blood.

  Damn it. I didn’t feel nearly as much satisfaction as I thought I would.

  “Good shot, boss,” Kruz told me.

  Sniffing, I finally lowered my weapon. “It was decent.”

  He chuckled. “What about his men?”

  “Take them out to sea. They should become familiar with their surroundings.”

  “And the body?”