Chapter Four
Ezra grabbed the edge of the wharf and hauled himself out of the water. It had taken him almost an hour to get here even at top speed. He was exhausted, but he ignored the fatigue in his limbs.
Had Sam died on the way here? He’d stopped out of sight of the wreck long enough to check on her, but it had been impossible to tell just how badly she was injured. He hadn’t wanted to remove her jacket to examine the wound because it was cold, and she needed all the layers she could get. In the end, he’d found a man’s sweater on the floor of the boat, ripped it enough to form a bandage, and wrapped that on the outside of her coat. It was all he’d been able to do while they were at sea.
He reached into the boat and lifted her limp body. His fatigue slipped away only to be replaced by worry. Her skin was cool and pale. He placed two fingers on the side of her neck and found a fluttering pulse.
She was still alive.
He hurried up the dock toward the house. He only had a couple of hours until dawn, maybe less. Before the sun rose, he needed to get Sam settled and sink that dinghy far away from his island.
He shoved the door open. It was never locked since he lived by himself on an island. Dripping water everywhere, he carried her up the stairs. He hesitated outside one of the guest rooms before heading to the master. He carefully set Sam down on his bed and turned on the bedside light.
She moaned and moved restlessly. The corners of her mouth turned down. She was obviously in pain.
He unwrapped the makeshift bandage, but it wasn’t easy. The water had made the knot tight. Sam moaned when he accidentally hurt her. “I’m sorry.” He hated causing her more pain, but there was nothing he could do.
He tossed the soggy mess on the floor and started on her coat next. He swore under his breath as he removed her outer layer and then the sweater underneath. The left side of her thermal shirt was splotched with blood.
He left her long enough to grab the first-aid kit from the bathroom. Placing it on the bed beside her, he popped open the top. He didn’t have much experience with this kind of thing. He was hard to injure and quick to heal.
Sam was human and much more fragile.
He grabbed the scissors and cut the sleeve of her shirt, exposing a seeping wound. He leaned closer to inspect it. It was just a flesh wound. She’d gotten lucky, and he didn’t think it was because the man who’d shot her was inexperienced. It was most likely because she’d moved just in the nick of time.
He left her long enough to get a pan of warm, soapy water and a clean cloth. Working quickly, he cleaned the wound, being careful to remove all the fibers embedded in it from her shirt. It had stopped bleeding, but it was doing so again by the time he was finished. Once he was sure it was free from any debris, he disinfected and covered it with a thick bandage secured with gauze. It was the best he could do.
Now that the worst had been taken care of, Ezra took a good look at his houseguest for the first time.
She was still wearing the dark watch cap on her head. He pulled it off and was surprised to find a shock of red hair hidden beneath. The curls seemed to explode from beneath the cap. He hadn’t expected her to be a redhead, not with her porcelain skin and no freckles in sight. Her face was more heart shaped than round, and she had a stubborn chin and straight nose.
His breathing quickened when he realized he was becoming aroused just looking at her. And he was still naked. If she woke now, she’d probably scream the house down.
He left her long enough to drag on a pair of sweatpants. That would do for now.
She shivered, and he felt like smacking himself in the head. She was still wearing wet clothes. She had to be freezing. She couldn’t regulate her body temperature like he could.
He started at her feet and removed her water-logged sneakers first. He’d have to take them downstairs and put them somewhere to dry. He removed her jeans next. That wasn’t an easy task. They were soaking wet and stuck to her like a second skin. He thought about just cutting them off, but that would leave her with nothing to wear.
He set to work, patiently drawing the cold fabric down her legs.
…
Sam’s arm throbbed and felt as though it were on fire. What had happened? She lay trying to get her bearings when she felt someone tugging on her jeans. Fear tasted acrid and sour in her mouth. Had Aaron done something to her?
Why couldn’t she remember what had happened? And where was she?
Feigning sleep, she opened her eyes a slit and immediately slammed them shut. It wasn’t Aaron touching her, but a man she’d never seen before.
He was big. Maybe the biggest man she’d ever seen. He was naked from the waist up and had broad shoulders and rippling abs, the kind she’d never seen outside of a magazine cover.
His shoulder-length brown hair was damp and framed a ruggedly handsome face. His lips were compressed into a hard line as he worked her jeans off. Why the hell was he removing her clothing? Why were they wet? And why was she so cold?
“I know you’re awake,” he told her.
Her eyes flew open before she could stop herself. A gaze as turquoise as a Mediterranean sea studied her. She’d never seen anyone with eyes quite that color before. She licked her salty lips, suddenly not nearly as cold as she’d been only moments before.
Then sanity returned, along with a shot of adrenaline, and she kicked him, or tried to. She was so damn weak. “What do you think you’re doing? Leave my clothes alone.”
“You need to get warm. They’re not helping.” Ignoring her feeble attempts to stop him, he dragged her jeans off and tossed them aside.
Her shivering increased. “Where am I?”
“You’re in my home.” He seemed to hesitate, his brows lowering and his features settling into a fierce glare. “You were drifting in a dinghy.” He watched her as if waiting for something, some recognition.
She surged upward and then cried out as pain bolted down her left arm.
“Whoa.” He caught her and eased her back down. “You’re not going anywhere at the moment. You were shot.”
Aaron. Her attempted escape. The sound of gunfire.
“You—” She ignored the fatigue pulling at her and pushed beyond the pain throbbing through her arm and down her shoulder. Sweat beaded on her forehead. “You have to let me go.” It was too dangerous for her to be around this man, whoever he was. “Not safe.” Aaron and the Knights would be searching for her.
The book.
Ignoring the pain, she surged upright and began frantically searching for her coat.
“What are you looking for?” His deep voice shocked her from her panic.
It occurred to her she was in a strange place with a strange man and no idea how she’d gotten here. She didn’t know if he was with the Knights or not. “Nothing.” She couldn’t afford to trust anyone. “Who are you?” she demanded.
“Ezra,” he told her as he reached down, picked up her coat, and began to methodically go through the pockets.
“Leave that alone.” She tried to sound assertive, but she was too weak for it to come out as more than a whisper. She was shivering harder now and her teeth began to chatter.
Ezra yanked the baggie out of the inside pocket of her coat. “Is this what you’re looking for?” He was watching her, not looking at what he was holding.
She gave a curt nod. “Dangerous. Have to keep it safe.”
He studied her intently, and in spite of the chills wracking her frame, she began to feel warmer. He opened the bedside table and tossed the book still in the bag into the drawer. “It’s safe enough there.”
As though she were a child, he worked the tattered remains of her thermal shirt off, leaving her only in her underwear. She was very conscious of being nearly naked around a stranger, a stranger who’d seemingly saved her life, but a stranger nonetheless.
When he reached for the strap of her bra, she jerked back.
He crossed his arms over his extremely large chest and pinned her with a glare. “You can’t rest in wet clothes.”
“I’m not getting naked in front of you.” She might be weak, but she was still a fighter. One corner of his mouth quirked upward, softening his harsh features and making him look even more handsome. There was something primal and compelling about him.
“You’re weak and need help,” he needlessly pointed out.
“Bully,” she countered.
“I’m concerned about your health. You’re borderline hypothermic.” She knew he was right, but she still couldn’t make herself get naked in front of a stranger.
Finally, he sighed and walked over to a large closet door. He yanked it open and pulled out a flannel shirt. “Put this on.” He brought it to the bed and handed it to her. Then he turned his back.
Sam figured this was as good as it was going to get. And honestly, she was too tired to argue further. She tried to reach around and unhook her bra, but it was difficult with only one good arm. And when she tried to twist, she hurt her injured one.
As soon as she moaned in pain, Ezra whirled around. Without saying a word, he unhooked her bra and eased the straps down her arms before tossing the plain cotton garment aside.
She was blushing. She could feel the heat creeping up her cheeks. Ezra ignored her bare breasts and concentrated on maneuvering her arms into the armholes of the shirt. When it was on, he buttoned the garment. It was so large it was more like a flannel nightshirt. It was warm and cozy and made her feel safe. It also smelled slightly of him, like salt air on a crisp day.
The backs of his fingers brushed against her skin as he worked his way to the last button. Sam sucked in a breath but didn’t say a word. She wasn’t sure she could speak.
She couldn’t remember the last time she responded so quickly and completely to a man. He had big hands that could snap her like a twig, but he was incredibly gentle as he finished securing the garment.
Before she could relax, he thrust his hands under the hem. Sam shrieked and tried to bat his hands away, but he grabbed the waistband of her underwear and peeled them off. Now she was naked but for the shirt.
As much as it pained her to admit it, it felt good to have the wet clothes away from her skin. She was already feeling warmer.
Ezra lifted her enough to pull the covers out from under her. Then he tucked her beneath them. She automatically curled onto her side and almost saw stars when she put pressure on her wound. How could she have forgotten to be careful of a gunshot wound?
Panting hard, she rolled onto her back. She felt Ezra hovering over her, but thankfully, he didn’t ask any questions. Finally, the pain and the sick feeling in her stomach passed enough for her to open her eyes.
“How bad is it?” She gestured to her bandaged arm.
“Flesh wound. Could have been worse. Infection is your biggest problem.”
Sam nodded. She couldn’t go to a hospital. Come to think of it, why hadn’t Ezra taken her to a hospital? “Where am I?”
“My home.”
She frowned. That told her exactly nothing. Fatigue swamped her, and she yawned before she could form her next question.
“Sleep. You’re safe here.”
Oddly enough, she believed him. She’d travelled all over the world, relying on her instincts to keep her safe. They’d never steered her wrong. Getting in trouble with the Knights had been her own doing. She’d ignored her instincts in her search for justice. If Ezra wanted to hurt her, there was nothing she could do to stop him in her condition. He’d done just the opposite, taking care of her in spite of her protests.
Her eyes fluttered shut and she sank into the warm bed, letting it cradle her. She thought she felt his hand brush her hair. It was a totally unexpected gesture of kindness and made her eyes prickle with unshed tears.
The stress from her attempted escape, from living and working under pressure for so long coupled with the trauma of her injury and the cold, pulled her under. She should warn Ezra about the Knights of the Dragon. She was leaving him vulnerable.
She tried to open her mouth to speak, but darkness swept her away before she could utter a single word.
…
Ezra knew the moment Sam lost consciousness. Her entire body relaxed and the hand clutching the covers released its death grip. She was like a flame with her red hair vibrant and alive against his plain white pillowcase. Her eyes were a brilliant green and filled with intelligence and strength.
He glanced down at the front of his pants and shook his head in wonder. He was as hard as a rock. That was unusual. Sure, he had a healthy sex drive, but he’d always been in control of it. He’d met some of the most beautiful women who’d ever lived during his long lifetime. Some he’d watched from a distance, others he’d shared more intimate relationships with, but never had he been in anything less than perfect control.
Why Sam? Why now?
He gathered her belongings and started to leave the room, hesitating at the doorway, not wanting to leave her. He should be more worried about what was in the book she’d stolen. Whatever it was, it was dangerous and should be locked in his safe until it could be examined properly.
But he’d promised her it would be safe in the nightstand drawer.
“And if she’s a Knight?” he muttered. Just because she’d been shot by one of them didn’t mean she wasn’t one. It could have been a falling out among the ranks.
He silently padded back to the nightstand and withdrew the book. The feeling he was betraying her nagged at him. “Best to keep it safe.” He left the room before he did something stupid like return the book to the drawer and curl up alongside Sam.
With the soggy mass of clothes in one hand and the book in the other, he headed to his office long enough to deposit the book in a titanium floor vault with a retinal scanner and a twenty-four-digit code. He’d laughed at Tarrant when his brother had insisted he install it. He wasn’t laughing now.
When the book was secured, he took the clothes to the laundry room. The thermal shirt and the garment he’d used as a bandage were only fit for the garbage. He studied the sweater she’d been wearing and decided that belonged in the garbage, too. That left her jeans, socks, underwear, and coat. Shrugging, Ezra threw it all into the washer and set the cycle.
Now it was time for him to dispose of the evidence.
He carried her sneakers to the front entrance and set them on the mat to dry. Then he carried the bloody garments down the path to the dinghy. He hated leaving Sam alone, even though he knew her body needed rest and she’d probably sleep for hours.
He dumped the clothes into the dinghy and stared out over the water. Dawn was starting to break as he removed his track pants and set them on the dock. He dove into the ocean, grabbed the rope of the dinghy, and began to swim. He cut quickly and efficiently through the water, heading toward the perfect place to dump the boat and clothes. There could be no trace of Sam to lead back to him.
Maybe the Knights would think she’d died at sea. He snorted. Not likely. They’d search until they found a body, watch for reports of a body washing onshore, or if there was activity in any of her bank accounts, but eventually they’d decide she was either dead or gone.
He paused when he reached a particularly deep chasm in the ocean floor. It wasn’t large, but it was more than big enough to hide a dinghy. He embraced the creature inside him, allowing his dragon free rein. Even after all these years, it was still a rush to feel his body changing. Even his mental processes were different. He was still present, but he was ruled by a more primitive mind and primal instincts.
He caught the dinghy between his teeth and spiraled down into the water. All around him, smaller fish fled. A great white shark started toward him, only to have second thoughts and veer away, heading toward open water.
Ezra went down to the depths of the ocean that would crush a man, to the dark where no light penetrated. He shoved the remains of the dingy deep into a crevice. Then he moved several boulders on top of it to keep it in place. It would never be found.
He turned away from the darkness and shot back toward the light of dawn. Sam was waiting at home for him. His dragon half was as eager to get back to her as his human side. Both parts of him yearned to be closer, to protect her.
She was his. He’d found her in the ocean, plucked her from the sea. By the laws of maritime salvage, that meant she belonged to him now.
…
Karina Azarov was not happy. “What do you mean, the Integrity is gone?” Her personal bodyguard, Birch, had woken her in the middle of the night to inform her she had an emergency phone call. It was not news she wanted.
“Something hit the ship. Hard. And not just once. Rammed it right over on its side.”
She tightened her fingers around the phone, when what she really wanted was to wring Aaron Dexter’s neck. Why was she surrounded by incompetence? “A whale?”
“Uncertain. One of the men managed to take a grainy video.”
“Send it to me.” If there was a way to determine what had happened, she’d find it. Maybe it was nothing but bad luck, but Karina didn’t believe in luck, good or bad. She forged her own path in the world. Hard work and determination were the keys to success. And she’d be damned if she didn’t get what she wanted, what she’d worked her entire life for.
“Already done?”
“And Sam Bellamy? Is she alive or dead?”
“Unknown. No body.”
A tiny niggling began in the back of her mind. It was a sign she didn’t ignore. Aaron Dexter was holding out on her. “Was anything of significance discovered from the shipwreck before the Integrity was hit?”
Again, there was a slight hesitation before he replied. “Uncertain. There were artifacts that hadn’t been examined yet.”
“So what you’re telling me is that both the good Dr. Bellamy and a possible artifact are both missing?” She knew it in her gut. “Don’t lie to me, Aaron. I’ll know if you do.”
There was silence, and then he finally relented. “There was something, an artifact of some kind. She was trying to get off the ship with it when we were hit. By the time we got to the lifeboats, the dinghy she was in was gone. I assume it got dragged down with the Integrity.”
Idiot. “Assume nothing. Get out there and find her, or at least her body. I want whatever she found recovered.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
She ended the call before he could say more. Birch was waiting, silent and patient. “Aaron Dexter is a problem. He let Dr. Bellamy get off the Integrity with an artifact, one that might be important. Even now, it may be lost because of his incompetence.”
Karina carefully set her phone down on her nightstand and began to pace her bedroom. Normally she would do anything not to appear weak in any way, but this was Birch. He’d been with her since she was a child. He was more mentor and father to her than her own had been.
She turned to him. “I need to see what’s on that video.” Maybe it was nothing, but it was better to be sure.
“I’ve already got our best tech working on it,” he assured her.
His calm demeanor settled her. She could always count on Birch. “Dexter is not reliable.” She’d suspected that for a while now.
“No. He probably spent more time trying to get Dr. Bellamy to sleep with him than watching her.”
Karina walked toward him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You already knew.” That was Birch. Others might cower in fear from her, but he kept her honest.
“You’re right. I knew he fancied himself a ladies’ man, but I still thought he could do the damn job. It was simple. The woman is an archaeologist and was confined to a ship in the middle of the ocean. How hard could it have been to watch her? He’ll have to be dealt with when we’re sure we know everything that happened. Until then, we keep a close eye on him.”
“Temple will cause problems,” Birch reminded her.
“We’ll keep this quiet until we know more.” She headed to the bathroom. There would be no more sleep for her. She might as well shower and start her day.
“Do you want it salvaged? I can contact a local company and have them try to refloat the Integrity. We don’t know if there was more than one artifact and what else might be on board.”
Karina paused in the bathroom door. “You’re right. Get the best in the business. I want them out there assessing the situation today. There’s no time to waste.”
She closed the bathroom door and allowed herself a moment to sigh. She didn’t need complications, not with Herman Temple and a few others making trouble for her. Her sister’s disappearance hadn’t helped matters. Valeriya vanishing had caused her unwanted problems, and she already had enough to deal with.
She squared her shoulders and headed to the shower. She would find Darius Varkas, find and dispose of her sister, deal with Temple and his cronies, and recover whatever it was that Dr. Bellamy had stolen from her.
She was the leader of the Knights, and she would have what she wanted—power and revenge. They were great motivators.