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K urt kept looking for an opportunity to escape, but there were too many men, too many eyes on them, and too many damned guns.

If he’d been alone, he might have thrown himself over the side and taken his chances at sea.

That fantasy lasted until they were thrust into a large lounge where the man he’d spent months searching for stood preening like a peacock.

Shit and fuck balls.

Not a rescue with a grinning Patrick Killion at the end of it after all. Not that he’d held out much hope.

Two men started to drag Rowena in another direction. She screamed.

“The hell you do. Leave her alone!” Kurt fought against the men who held him, shouldering one man in the jaw so hard he dropped to the floor like a felled tree.

Then twisting another man’s arm so he fell to the ground.

But three others grabbed him, binding him with rope around his torso.

Still, he didn’t stop fighting to get to Rowena.

The terrorist he’d spent months searching for whipped out his expandable baton and struck him on the side of the head.

Blinding pain fried Kurt’s brain, and when the agony eased everything was blurry and Rowena was still gone .

He felt as if he’d died and gone to Hell.

Hurek paced. “We don’t need the girl. She’s more useful as entertainment for my men. They grow restless and we’ve been at sea a long time.”

Kurt spat out blood as he was hauled to his knees.

“Entertainment? Like the ‘gang rape of Darby O’Roarke over an extended period’ entertainment?

Highly enjoyable if you’re a rabid animal.

Just one of the reasons you’re top of the Most Wanted list, motherfucker.

You touch her, you hurt her in any way, I’ll kill everyone onboard this boat with my bare hands, including you.

” He held Hurek’s gaze, made sure he understood Kurt meant every word.

Hurek tilted his head. “Women should know their place. She’s not your wife, she’s just a whore.”

Rage filled Kurt. Rage and a bone-searing fear at what was already happening to a woman who’d somehow burrowed into his heart. No one deserved what Hurek’s men would do. He’d feel the same rage for anyone, but Rowena was different. Rowena was his.

Hurek tapped that steel baton against his palm. “She’s of no consequence. You can even have her back when they’re finished with her. Take your turn.”

Kurt straightened as fury fused his bones together. “Her name is Rowena Smith. And she has consequence.”

“Smith?” Those dark eyes fixed on his for a moment. Shrugged. “Smith is a common surname. Common, like the girl.”

There was nothing common about Rowena.

Did Hurek remember Allie Smith? Was that what had caused the spark?

“Forget about her. I don’t care about her. I care about you and what we can do for one another.”

Hurek wanted a deal?

Kurt pulled his reactive ass off the floor and shook off his brain. “If you think I will do a damned thing except snap your neck unless you bring Rowena Smith back right this minute, unharmed, you’re an idiot.” He narrowed his gaze. “And I don’t think you’re an idiot.”

“You will deal with me whether the girl entertains the crew or not.” Hurek waved his hand regally.

“No.” Kurt allowed all the anger, all the rage to show in his eyes. “I won’t.”

“You’d sacrifice your own life, Supervisory Special Agent Montana?”

“If my life is the price, I’ll gladly pay it.

You damned well bring her back here, and she stays with me.

She’s mine.” He figured the other man could understood the need to possess and claim something whether it belonged to him or not.

“You obviously want something from me. Give me the girl, and I’ll help you get it.

” His gut churned at the thought of offering to deal with this dirtbag, but he didn’t care.

He’d never allow Hurek to go free. But right now, saving Rowena was his first priority.

Save the girl. Then make the bad guys pay.

“It has to be now before they touch her.”

“Ah, you don’t want damaged goods. That I understand.” Hurek jerked his chin at one of his men. “Bring her back. Shoot anyone who complains and throw them overboard. We’ll stop at the next port and pick up a couple of prostitutes for them to play with.”

Bile filled Kurt’s mouth at the way this man considered women to be nothing more than vessels for a man’s pleasure. All Kurt wanted was to save Rowena, and he’d cast aside all his training, caved like a new recruit. But this was going to be a long game now, and he was good at the long game.

Patience. He’d been a sniper once upon a time, and he knew all about patience.

“What makes you think I want anything from you?” Hurek was curious.

“You would have shot me on the spot otherwise.”

Hurek’s eyes widened and didn’t deny the accusation.

“Why haven’t you killed me? ”

“There’s still time.” A slow smile spread over the man’s pale brown skin. “Maybe you have information I want.”

Kurt had no doubt. He wouldn’t betray the FBI or his country, but he could pretend for a while to give himself and Rowena the opportunity to escape.

He heard a scuffle in the hallway before the man pushed Rowena back inside the lounge. Kurt breathed a sigh of relief.

Tears stained her cheeks and her lip was bleeding. The button of her pants was undone. Anger hardened inside him. “Are you all right?”

Her wild eyes met his. She raised her chin. Wiped her mouth with her bound hands. “Yes.”

Hurek sneered as he took a couple of steps toward her. He stopped. “Who are you?”

Sensation prickled over Kurt’s scalp. “I thought you said it didn’t matter who she was.”

Hurek strode over to her and grabbed her wrist. “Where did you get this?”

Rowena struggled and was rewarded with a strike of the baton against her side.

“Ow!”

“Leave her the fuck alone!”

The men guarding him held his arms tight behind his back and another braced his hand against Kurt’s chest to stop him rushing forward.

Rowena staggered against the wall as Hurek undid the dive watch she wore around her wrist. He held it up to the light.

“Where did you get this?” he asked almost in wonder.

“My uncle.”

“What is your uncle called?” He pulled back his arm as if to strike her again, and she cowered.

“It’s a fucking watch, what does it matter?” Kurt bellowed.

Hurek’s eyes shot to him. “Your uncle’s name?”

“Peter Smith. ”

Hurek lowered his arm and asked in a soft voice. “And who is your mother?”

Rowena visibly swallowed. “Allison. Allison Smith.”

“Allie.” Hurek’s eyes widened and took on a mad gleam. “Poor Allie Smith. I haven’t thought about her in years…” He placed the baton under her chin and lifted. “Now I see it. You look like her.”

“You knew my mother?”

The curl of Hurek’s lips turned ugly. “Everyone knew Allie Smith. I didn’t know she had a child. How old are you? Don’t lie. I can find out soon enough anyway.”

“T-twenty-seven.”

Something moved in Hurek’s eyes.

“And your father?”

When she hesitated, Hurek yelled. “Who is your father, girl?”

Rowena flinched in fear.

It took all four men to hold on to Kurt as he tried to get to her. To shield her from the sonofabitch.

“I-I don’t know.”

Hurek pulled a fresh handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed the side of Rowena’s mouth with it, mopping up the blood.

Kurt didn’t think it was because he was kindhearted. The terrorist was collecting a sample. For what? DNA?

“Put them in the room we prepared. Make sure our guests are well cared for—for now.” He paused at the door and addressed his men. “If anyone touches her, tell them I’ll peel their penises with my penknife then toss them overboard.”

Kurt stared at Rowena, and she stared back. What the fuck had just happened?

Rowena was pushed along until she reached some steep metal stairs that led into the bowels of the boat. “I can’t go down those with my hands tied.”

She’d break her neck. Desperate, she looked back at Kurt. Perhaps if they were both freed from their bonds there was still the chance of escape.

The guard impatiently untied her wrists and signaled her ahead, considerably gentler than he had been before Hurek had threatened him.

She didn’t want to think about any of that.

She didn’t want to be grateful to a disgusting human being who was keeping her safe from the men he’d already tried to throw her to.

Nor did she want to think about how he’d known her mother.

She gripped the handrail, the swell of the ocean making the uneven trip down these twelve stairs feel like she was drunk.

At the bottom, C deck, the guard brought her to stand well back and placed a pistol to her head as the men above released Kurt from his bindings and indicated he go down the stairs ahead of them.

Hard metal jabbed her forehead, and she nearly peed her pants.

There was nothing good about this experience.

Kurt looked at her briefly, but he wasn’t telegraphing any secret escape messages. He looked ridiculously calm, as if he were walking to a weekly meeting.

At the bottom of the stairs, they went to bind him again, but he held up his hands docilely. “You don’t need to tie me up. I’ll come quietly.”

The men looked at one another in confusion, but the man who held her seemed to understand English and shouted something to his compatriots.

They stood back from Kurt. Her captor pulled her backwards about halfway down the corridor, opened a door and pushed her inside.

She caught herself before she fell to her knees, absurdly grateful there was a porthole to look out of.

Kurt stepped in after her and the door was immediately slammed shut behind them.

A key turned in the lock, the sound like a death knell .

She met Kurt’s worried gaze. “We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto.”