Alastair stayed close to Darcy as they pushed down the paneled hall. “Can you turn the lights off across the ship?”

She smiled. “Can you take down multiple bad guys like a badass?”

Alastair stared at her. Bright, smart, sexy Darcy. His heart thudded in his chest. No question now, he was falling in love, and hell, he was right near the bottom of the fall.

He wanted to haul her close, but right now, he needed to get the diamonds, catch the Collector, and most importantly, keep Darcy safe.

He’d do anything to keep her safe.

She tapped on her tablet and the lights went out. In the near darkness, they slid their hands along the walls until they reached a set of stairs. They moved up. He slowed near the top, squinting into the dimness, ready for anything.

That’s when Alastair’s ankle hit something.

Trip wire. Shit.

He spun and threw himself over Darcy.

The grenade went off, but there was no shrapnel. Instead, gas filled the air. Darcy coughed.

“Drop low.” He pulled her down, but he was already feeling sluggish.

Darcy went limp, collapsing beneath him. No, dammit. Alastair dropped heavily to his knees, pulling her close and holding her tight. Every muscle in his body tensed. He couldn’t fail her.

He looked up and coughed, spotting dark shapes moving through the gas.

Black crept in around the edges of his vision. He fought it, but a second later, he lost consciousness.

When Alastair came to, he was slumped in a chair, his hands handcuffed behind him.

The lights were back on and Darcy was lying on the plush carpet in front of him. Fear burned through him, and he stared at her, hoping against hope that she was okay. He saw the gentle rise and fall of her chest. She was breathing. Thank God.

Then, he looked up.

They were in a dining room. One wall consisted of floor-to-ceiling glass, leading out onto a wide deck. Guards in body armor, holding rifles, lined the outer perimeter of the space. They looked military-trained.

He took note of the diamond case resting on the table.

“Where’s the Collector?” he said.

No one moved or spoke. Then, he heard the click of heels on the wooden floor. He expected to see an aging Henry Acton. Instead, an elegant woman in her fifties entered the room. She wore a stylish, navy-blue pantsuit, her carefully-colored blonde hair was swept up in a neat style, and the discreet work she’d clearly had done left her face unlined.

“You look surprised, Agent Burke.” She smiled. She had a cultured British accent. “I assume you were expecting my father.”

“Henry Acton was your father.”

As she nodded, large diamonds winked from her earlobes. “Brian, bring me some tea, please.”

One of the soldiers moved over to the kitchenette.

“So that makes the asshole at the Adana your son,” Alastair said.

The woman’s faint smile didn’t waver. “Correct. My lawyers are working to get him released from FBI custody as we speak.”

“You’re all going down,” Alastair said. “William will be locked away for a very long time, Mrs.…?”

“Ms. Diana Acton. I married, but kept my father’s name in his honor.”

She accepted a cup of tea from her guard. She took a moment to squeeze some lemon in, then sipped.

“I’ve been running Silk Road for decades, Agent Burke. I had partners for a time, but it was me building it, one step at a time. My private collection is vast.”

“Your collection of stolen goods is vast. And you’re a murderer.”

Her blue eyes flashed. “My father was murdered. He died in a fucking jungle like trash.”

Now Alastair heard the edge in her voice. He was getting to her.

“From what I’ve heard, he was a killer and a thief.” Darcy’s voice.

Alastair glanced down and saw she was sitting up. She looked pale, but she was conscious.

“He tried to kill my parents,” Darcy continued. “He killed a man helping them.”

Diana Acton’s gaze narrowed on Darcy. “They killed him. I worshiped my father. He was a great man.”

Darcy snorted.

The older woman’s smile changed, sharpened. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll soon have my revenge—on your parents, on Treasure Hunter Security—” she looked at Alastair “—and on everyone who thought they could stop me and Silk Road.”

Alastair felt a chill go down his spine. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, Agent Burke, my collection contains an impressive group of artifacts with certain…powers.”

His gut hardened.

“Abilities I can use to make Silk Road a force to be reckoned with across the world. Governments will fall over themselves to please me.”

Shit. Alastair knew that there were artifacts that existed that needed to be locked away. That couldn’t be left in the wrong hands. He needed to warn Team 52.

“Now, let’s see what we have here?” Diana drawled.

The woman picked up the diamond case and flicked the lid open. Pleasure suffused her face.

“Oh, yes.” The words came out as a sigh. “I can use these to control others.”

“These aren’t pieces of ancient lost technology.” Darcy rolled her eyes. “You’re buying into your own sense of grandeur. They’re just diamonds.”

“There are too many legends attached to these jewels.” A muscle ticked in Diana’s jaw. “My researchers assured me that they must contain certain powers.”

Alastair kept his gaze on Diana. The woman wasn’t thinking straight. Her lust for power had warped her. “We’ll stop you.”

“Really?” Diana shook her head. “You and Ms. Ward will be at the bottom of the ocean in a few hours. No one will ever find your bodies.”

Alastair felt the flare of vibrations through the floor. Damn, the yacht’s engines. The ship was moving. Fuck.

His team would arrive to an empty dock.

“And now, I’m going to teach you both a lesson.” Diana nodded her head.

Two guards grabbed Darcy and dragged her forward.

“Let me go!”

Alastair rose, yanking against his handcuffs. Another guard moved, shoving him back down into the chair.

Helpless, he watched as Darcy was dragged to one of the tables. The two guards lifted her onto the surface, even as she twisted and fought. They pinned her down on her back.

Diana walked closer, heels clicking. She pulled out a small bundle and unrolled it.

Alastair’s gut cramped. It was a toolset.

The Silk Road man who’d hurt his mother had carried the same bundle.

It was the kind carried by torturers.

“Maybe I won’t throw your body into the ocean, Ms. Ward. Perhaps I’ll throw your broken body somewhere where it can be a lesson to your parents, Treasure Hunter Security, the FBI, and, most especially, to him.” She pointed at Alastair.

Alastair tugged against the handcuffs. No.

“I believe you’ve seen something like this before, Agent Burke.” Diana’s smile was mean. “When your mother died.”

Every muscle in his body locked. No. Not again.

* * *

“Let me go!” Darcy heaved up, trying to break free.

She struggled against the guards holding her down. She got a leg free and kicked one man in the stomach.

His hand flashed out and slapped her face.

Ow. She saw stars. From across the room, she heard Alastair growl. The men pinned her arms flush against her sides, fingers biting into her biceps and ankles to hold her in place.

Diana Acton stepped into view. The woman held a large set of pliers in one hand and a small knife in the other

Oh, God. Darcy’s stomach revolted.

“Do I start with your teeth or your lovely skin, Ms. Ward?”

Darcy glared at the woman. “I vote neither.”

The woman shook her head. Then she set the pliers down and started slicing the buttons off Darcy’s shirt. The buttons made a pinging sound as they hit the floor.

Damn. Fear was like acid in Darcy’s veins.

Diana pushed Darcy’s shirt open, baring her skin and pretty, pale-green bra. Then the woman pressed the knife just below Darcy’s breasts.

She moved the blade downward.

Darcy hissed at the sting and heard Alastair curse wildly. The cut wasn’t too deep and she gritted her teeth. She was not giving this bitch the satisfaction of hearing her make a noise. Blood welled on her belly.

Diana nodded, like she was approving her own handiwork. Then she lifted the knife again, and stroked once more down Darcy’s stomach.

This cut was deeper and hurt more. Darcy choked back her cry.

On the third cut, Darcy turned her head, struggling not to make a sound. Her gaze locked with Alastair’s.

Oh, he was barely holding on. Emotion filled her chest. His big body was tense, straining forward against the cuffs holding him. His face was sheened with perspiration.

She didn’t want to cry out, she knew this was hurting Alastair just as much as her. This bitch was using her to cause Alastair pain. But the next cut was deeper, and this time she couldn’t help but cry out.

“That’s a pretty sound,” Diana crooned.

“Stop.” Alastair jumped to his feet, his chair toppling over. He slammed into one of the guards. “Stop hurting her.”

Darcy’s insides turned hollow. This was his nightmare. Diana was forcing him to relive it. At that moment, Darcy hated Diana Acton with the force of a thousand suns.

As Alastair struggled against his guards, Darcy pressed her hands into her thighs, digging deep to try and find some control.

That’s when she felt her back-up mini-tablet in her pocket.

Alastair made a tortured sound and went crazy. He tossed one guard against the wall and rammed into the other one.

Another slice of the knife and Darcy groaned, slipping her fingers surreptitiously into her pocket. She fought back against the wave of agony. Her fingers brushed the tablet.

She couldn’t see what she was doing, but she’d memorized her tablet screen. She visualized the buttons. She prayed the guards didn’t notice.

“Let her go!” Alastair roared. “Stop.”

“Shoot him in the leg,” Diana ordered calmly.

The loud report of a gun was deafening in the small space.

“No!” Terrified, Darcy turned her head. She saw Alastair fall to the floor. With his hands cuffed behind his back, he couldn’t put pressure on his wound. Blood welled.

The guard who’d shot him moved, aiming his weapon at Alastair’s head.

Alastair stared into Darcy’s face. “I love you, Darcy.”

Her mouth dropped open. Oh, God. He loved her. Warmth flooded her. This strong, dedicated, handsome man loved her. He’d always fight to help people in trouble and stop the bad guys, but she knew he had room in his heart for her. She loved the protector in him. She had finally found the love she’d been searching for—not a fairy tale, but something deep and true.

Boy, he’d picked a really bad time to tell her.

“How sweet,” Diana sneered.

Darcy glowered at the woman. “You don’t know anything about love, or sacrifice, or caring.”

“My family is everything to me!”

Darcy shook her head. “You care about nothing but yourself and power. That’s selfish. Love is never selfish.”

Darcy turned her head and smiled at Alastair. “I think I love you back.”

His brows drew together. “You think?”

“I still need a little more convincing. I know you can be very persuasive when it suits you.” She looked around the room. “I also need a trip to the beach after this. Somewhere with no bad guys. Somewhere I can get wet.” She looked into his face and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. She mentally urged him to understand her words.

“You’ll be dead after this.” Diana raised the knife again.

“I don’t think so.” Darcy pressed on her tablet screen. Please be the right command.

The overhead fire sprinklers flared to life, dousing the room with water.

The guards shouted and Darcy kicked out. She broke free and swung off the table.

She charged at Diana, slamming into the woman and knocking her over. Darcy snatched up the diamond case and rushed across the room to Alastair.

She saw he was free of his cuffs. How the hell had he done that? He rammed the final guard into the wall, and she heard the man’s skull thud on the plaster. His body slid down the wall to the floor.

“Alastair!”

He grabbed her hand. “Come on.” He grabbed the overturned chair, dragging it behind them. Once they moved into the hall, he slammed the door closed, and wedged the chair under the door handle.

“How’d you get free of the cuffs?”

“I always carry a spare handcuff key. I like to be prepared.” He pulled her shirt closed and tied it. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. Your leg?” There was a lot of blood.

“It’ll hold. Now move.”

“So bossy.” They moved down the hall. Alastair was limping badly. His trouser leg was soaked with blood and worry nipped at her.

“Keep moving,” he said.

They came out in a casual living area filled with cream-colored couches. At the far end was a pair of sliding doors that opened onto another deck.

They were sailing down the Potomac. God, the river was huge.

“Let’s look for some sort of escape raft or speedboat—”

“Darcy.” Alastair collapsed against the back of a couch, smearing blood on the fabric. “I can’t go any farther.”

“No.”

“You need to go. Get to safety.”

Her heart lodged in her throat. “No!”