Swept Away Read Online Free PDF Page A

treasures.
    So giving a quick glance to the doorway, Brock quietly pulled open a dresser drawer. Then another. And another.
    Until finally his eyes fell on the key and its thin silver chain, cradled in the fabric of Francisco’s tropical print shirt. Whatever happened now, it couldn’t hurt to make the key disappear and turn the Morales brothers’ job a little more difficult—so he closed it in his fist, then tucked it into a zipper pocket in his trunks.
    Next, he approached the room’s one tiny porthole and looked out, more in search of inspiration than any tangible sort of help—but he nearly stopped breathing at the sight before him. Land. In the distance. A small island of some kind, sprouting the requisite groves of palm trees rimmed with a thin, sandy beach.
    It was about half a mile away, and probably uninhabited, too.
    Brock had no idea how far they were from the mainland, but they couldn’t be too far—the pickup was soon and the delivery to Omega Man was tonight, so they had to be reasonably near the Florida coast. Which meant that a man, even on an uninhabited island, would be found. Maybe not tomorrow. Maybe not even next week. But on the other hand, there were such things as signal fires, and if he had nothing else to do all day, he could figure out how to start one. Yep, no question—getting to that island was a lot smarter than staying on this boat with a well-armed guy who was really pissed at him.
    Taking a deep breath, Brock eased open the bedroom door and took a few steps toward the bow of the yacht. Above, voices—Carlos saying he still couldn’t believe Jimmy was a fed, Francisco berating him for his ignorance.
    “Stop, you two.” It was one of the girls, he couldn’t distinguish which. “Haven’t you ever heard the saying, ‘Make love, not war’? Why don’t you boys calm down and let us make you feel better before your big pickup.”
    “No time,” Francisco said. But then he let out a light moan that surprised the hell out of Brock —since up to this moment he’d thought Francisco was stronger than that.
    Come on, Frankie, let her have her way with you. He knew from very recent experience that a little sexual distraction could be a man’s downfall, and he needed the evil brother to start thinking about something besides business for a few minutes.
    “Come on, baby, let’s play,” the same female voice pleaded. “Work can wait a little while.”
    “I don’t think so,” Francisco said, but he sounded weak, and another moan made Brock smile. Give in, dude.
    “I can make you feel so good—you know I can. Let me show you.”
    “Later.” “Now.”
    And then... silence.
    And another moan. From Francisco or Carlos?
    Maybe it didn’t matter, since other than the moans and a little rustling, and then a hot female sigh, everything else was quiet. The only sounds were sex and the boat puttering through the Gulf.
    Brock eased back the narrow hallway toward the rear of the lower deck to another spiral staircase. He didn’t think about the fact that each step brought him closer to death if he was heard—he just concentrated on being quiet and moving as quickly as possible. The current goal: get off the yacht without being noticed. With any luck, by the time they found out he’d escaped, they’d have no idea where he’d disappeared to. Being stranded on an island didn’t hold a lot of appeal, but as long as they didn’t know he was there, he’d be safe.
    Once topside, he made his way to the boat’s stern, where the engine was the loudest and would camouflage any other noise. Without looking back, he eased under the railing, dropped ten feet into the water, and hoped like hell he was as good a swimmer as he thought.
    Kat felt herself slowly emerging from a delicious little nap in the sun, becoming pleasantly aware of the rushing tide and the tropical rays warming her skin. Ah, she’d been right—this was just what she needed. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d