Heart of Gold - By Tami Hoag Page 0,60
Kincaid was his woman. If Strauss had hurt her …
Hell, Shane thought, he wanted to kill the man for touching her. Despite all she’d been through, Faith was an innocent. Adam Strauss represented everything evil. The two didn’t belong on the same planet, let alone on the same boat.
“Hello, Shane, my old friend,” Strauss said in a silky tone that raised Shane’s hackles. “How do like my little boat? Brutus. I named it after you.”
“I’m flattered all to hell,” Shane remarked dryly as he crossed the gangplank and stepped aboard.
“I knew you would be. Drop the gun overboard, Irish.”
Reluctantly Shane tossed the Smith and Wesson over the side. Strauss smiled at the soft splash that sounded as the gun hit the water.
“Now the little surprise you have tucked into the back of your trousers.”
Scowling in the pale glow of the security light, Shane reached behind him and gently eased a small pistol out of his waistband. It joined its companion on the bottom of the Anastasia marina.
“And that little darling you’re wearing for a sock garter.” Strauss’s laughter floated eerily on the damp night air as Shane muttered a stream of curses. “Ah, yes, my friend. I know all your secrets.”
“Yeah, you’re a regular genius,” Shane commented. His expression a blank, stony mask, he turned to Faith. “Are you all right, Ms. Kincaid?”
Faith winced a bit at his cool, businesslike tone. This was not the same man who had held her and loved her fears away. This was Shane the cop, the man who leashed his emotions and instinctively lived in the shadows.
She prayed she would get the chance to see that other Shane again. The one who was so patient with her daughter, who was a tender lover full of sad, sweet music, the one who sometimes looked at her as if he couldn’t quite believe she was real. She told herself she would see that man again. All they had to do was get through this nightmare.
Finding her voice with some difficulty, she managed to stutter, “I—I’m f-fine, Agent Callan.”
She was terrified, Shane knew, but as she had so many times over the last few weeks, Faith managed to dredge up a little more strength from that well that ran so deep inside her. He watched her swallow down her fear and stick out her little chin. How one woman who seemed so ordinary could have so much heart and courage was a mystery to him, but he loved her for it.
He loved her, and now she could die because of him. The knowledge twisted in his gut like a knife.
“Shane, you cut me to the quick,” Strauss said, pouting like a petulant lover. “I’ve been a perfect gentleman.”
“Gentlemen don’t kidnap innocent women and hold guns to their heads,” Shane pointed out, his voice low and smoky.
Strauss grinned. “Point taken. Let’s call it a temporary breach of conduct—rather like your seduction of a federal witness.”
The bastard. He knew. He’d been watching them. A muscle jumped in Shane’s jaw. His hands clenched at the thought of wrapping them around Strauss’s throat. The idea that this piece of scum had any knowledge of the tender, loving relationship that had blossomed between himself and Faith made him sick. But the wisest course would be to ignore the remark as if it meant nothing to him.
“Let her go, Strauss. Your argument is with me.”
Strauss’s eyes narrowed as if in consideration, but his hold only tightened on Faith’s shoulders. “I think not. I know you, Irish. I know your weaknesses, few though they may be. I know your flaws—melancholy, gallantry, and good Irish whiskey. I mean to take advantage of your gallantry. You won’t try anything as long as I hold the lovely lassie. Never make an enemy of a friend, my dear Lancelot,” he advised. “That enemy will slay you with your own sword.”
Shane heaved a sigh and hitched his hands to his lean hips. “You’re boring me, Strauss. If you want to kill me, then kill me and be done with it.”
“Oh, no.” A thread of rage tangled with the madness in his cultured voice. “I won’t make it that easy for you, I mean to see you suffer.” Jerking his head in the direction of the dock, he ordered, “Cast off. We’re going to take a little midnight cruise. Revenge should be a very private thing, I think.”
Shane weighed the odds. He couldn’t rush Strauss now, Faith would never have a chance. For the moment the deck was stacked in