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She was shaking as she pressed herself to his side.

He wanted to wrap his arms around her and tell her it was going to be all right, but he wouldn’t lie.

The best bet was for him to work on the rope binding him and then grab a gun and shoot their captors while they were en route to their next destination.

Except, chances were high one of them would get a shot off, and one bullet could be enough to end Rowena’s life for good .

He ground his teeth, pissed as the black hood was placed over his head again.

When the trunk slammed shut, he grabbed Rowena’s hands in his and squeezed. She squeezed him back. She hadn’t given up hope yet.

He worked on loosening her ropes, the knots were tight, but he felt the first one begin to give.

The stink of the canvas hood overrode most scents, except he swore he could smell baked seaweed and dead fish.

Were they at the harbor? Could this be Marty fucking Sinclair’s idea of a rescue, rather than an abduction?

A tendril of hope began to curl inside him.

When the vehicle stopped, it was quiet outside, and no one spoke. The door opened, and someone dragged him out by his injured arm and led him onto what felt like an unsteady gangplank.

“Struggle, and you’ll end up in the water.” The voice was low and threatening, speaking English.

It was a gangplank, and they were getting on a boat. “What about the girl?”

What if they forced him onboard and kept Rowena for themselves?

“Your girlfriend is coming. For now. Although, she won’t be yours for much longer. I’m hoping I get a turn before we leave because she is fine .” The dark chuckle told him this wasn’t a rescue.

Kurt shoved the guy hard, ripped the hood from his head in time to see the bastard go flying through the air and land with a splash between the hull of a large wooden vessel and the harbor wall.

He turned and the leader stood behind him, a gun to Rowena’s head.

Shit.

The man glanced sideways as his man spluttered in the water. He shouted something down to him then raised his chin at Kurt. “ Keep moving, Mr. FBI. Otherwise, I’ll shoot this one right here, and no one will even notice, let alone care.”

Rowena visibly shook.

Kurt pressed his lips together and nodded. Turned and walked onto a large green boat that looked a lot like a fishing trawler.

Onboard, he was once again shoved along, but Rowena was by his side now, the hood removed, and despite the danger, he felt reassured. Maybe this was a rescue designed to look like these guys were bad guys rather than working with the American government.

And who’d have thought he’d have become a raving fucking optimist?

They were forced onto the floor of a small room beside the main cabin where the captain stood behind the wheel, legs spread wide, not even glancing at his human cargo.

Perhaps he was being forced into this. Perhaps he didn’t want Kurt to see his face. Kurt studied the man’s reflection in the glass and vowed to remember each and every person involved in this nightmare.

There was a shouted exchange between his abductors and the crew, but the armed men quickly left, and Kurt heard them laughing.

Presumably they’d been paid.

Would Gilder let them live? Kurt doubted it. They’d seen Kurt alive when he was supposed to be dead.

If Marianne had betrayed them, she’d be in danger too. He really hoped she had the sense to disappear for a while. He’d liked her.

The boat set off, the stench of diesel fumes so strong his stomach clenched.

“Are you okay?”

Rowena met his gaze and shook her head. She looked as if she might throw up. “Could be worse though, right?”

He smiled at her attempt to look on the bright side of such a shitty situation. “Maybe they’re taking us out to that Naval frigate.”

Her eyes widened in hope. “You really think so?”

He grimaced. He couldn’t lie. “Probably not, but the CIA have done crazier things rescuing people.”

“If this is a rescue, I’d hate to experience a rendition.” Her bottom lip trembled. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“If I hadn’t been with you, something tells me you’d have already escaped these guys.”

His mouth tugged into a reluctant half-smile, the warmth of her seeping into him from where they were pressed together. “I might have tried, and I might already be dead.” He lowered his voice further. “I hate that you’re in danger.”

They sat quietly for a few moments, the noise from the engine effective white noise against their conversation.

“Try to loosen the knot in my ropes, will you?”

She reached over and started playing with the knots as he wriggled his wrists, trying to build give into the binding.

Twenty minutes later, he figured it wouldn’t take much more to slip them now.

But a man carrying a pistol stepped into view, and there was a shout and scramble of activity. People started running around as a large red tanker loomed out of the darkness.

Rowena didn’t know how her life had gone from boring librarian to being winched by armed men up the side of a massive container ship on an open platform in the undulating swell of the Mozambique Channel.

The breeze was cold, but that wasn’t why she was shivering. She had the feeling her life was about to change for the worse, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She was an idiot for interfering .

Kurt’s expression was tough and grim. None of the lover. All of the operator who looked ready to shove their companions into the water below them.

The wind buffeted, and she grabbed onto the back of his trousers to steady herself. She wanted to be sick, but refused to give these people the satisfaction of seeing her succumb so completely to fear.

She was in this now. In it for good. And she and Kurt would get out of it together too.

The platform jolted, and she yelped, but Kurt stood steady, holding her up and supporting her.

The men with them laughed.

“Ignore them, Row.”

She swallowed the knot that formed in her throat. “I plan to, Joe.”

As they reached the top, arms reached out to drag her aboard, touching her ass and breasts. She lashed out at one man, and he struck her, making her vision spin.

Kurt headbutted the offender and then kicked him in the balls, so he lay crying on the deck.

The sounds of rifles being lifted had Kurt placing himself in front of her, but there was nowhere to hide. She stepped to his side and raised her chin.

The rifle barrels parted, and a man appeared. He jerked his head, indicating they follow him toward the main part of the ship.

“I’m scared,” she admitted quietly.

“So am I.”

You’d never know it though from the fierce expression on his face. Row tried to quell the shaking of her legs as they were led inside the hulking tin can. She had the horrible feeling she’d never come out, or if she did, she’d be irrevocably changed.