Hot for His Hostage (15 page)

Gold? His eyes are…gold
?

But unlike the gaze of her dream Dom from last night, cutting into her with slices
of molten seduction, this bastard’s eyes wielded nothing but callous daggers. He jabbed
several of those blades into her before uttering one word.

“Stay.”

Zoe was stunned to feel herself nodding instead of flinging back her own metaphorical
daggers. Midair crisis or not, she didn’t take orders like a dog, especially from
a hijacking mercenary who sounded like he’d morphed with a Doberman himself. She forced
her teeth into her tongue, congratulating herself for the wisdom of the move, when
she watched him square off against his boss.

Vaya
. Separately, the men were intimidating. Nose to nose, they were terrifying. Two sets
of broad shoulders, every bulging muscle defined by skintight black. Two unwavering
glares. One loaded gun, now recovered from the floor. One
human
weapon who’d already proved that really didn’t matter.

Breathing? Still impossible. Zoe’s lungs pumped painfully against her ribs. Her bloodstream
alternated with shots of hot and cold, so she didn’t know if she needed to faint or
crawl out of her skin.

“You want to tell me what the fuck that was all about?” the leader challenged.

Growl Man grunted. It was two seconds of sound but was so rough and guttural, it instantly
turned him into a darker enigma. “First off, you want to change the world or chase
pussy? Decide now, man. I’m sure we’d all be happy to have ‘Kaze turn this bird around
for a landing in the middle of Mexico instead of the suicide zone we’re about to enter.”

His boss huffed hard. Zoe watched him openly assessing the other man, perhaps questioning
the guy’s motives. She admitted her own curiosity about what he’d find. Why
had
the guy whisked her away from him like that? Something wasn’t adding up.

“Is that it?” the leader finally charged. “Or is there a ‘second off’?”

Her savior nodded at the gun. “Yeah. How about locking down the safety on that heat?”

Boss Man rolled his eyes. “Jesus. When did you become Safe Side Superchick?”

“When I boarded a flying can full of pressurized air with you. But hey, if you want
to blow an accidental hole in the hull and render this bucket un-flyable—”

“Fine, fine.” The leader thumbed the lever into place. “Christ. I let you get away
with so much cheek.”

“Yeah, yeah. Flattery still won’t get me to suck face with you.”

“Bite me.”

“No, thank you. Not into mini sausage.”

Zoe couldn’t decide which ordeal was worse, their bro-flirt banter or the sudden explosion
that interrupted it. The blast, visible through the windows on the plane’s left side,
rocked the whole aircraft with its force. When another followed, closer and to the
right, the airliner listed to the left.

Zoe burrowed into Brynn, holding her friend tight. Brynn returned the clinch. They
didn’t let go even after “Kamikaze” realigned the plane, shaking against each other
as shrieks, profanities, and horrified bellows punched the air.

Mierda.
Her friend was right last night. Irony was a douche. She and Brynn had originally
bonded because they were adrenalin junkies, joining Jacy and Holli for a four-girl
ride on “Insanity” at The Stratosphere on their first girls’ night out. There was
a big damn difference between roller coaster terror and real terror. She’d gladly
endure the pretend Insanity every day over this ordeal.

Everyone’s attention swung toward the front of the plane again. Zoe could only discern
that someone from the airline’s crew had attempted to tangle with one of the hijackers.
Stripes on the man’s uniform confirmed that the brave soul was one of the pilots,
obviously not as disabled as the hijackers preferred. Zoe was joined by many others
in wincing as the man was subdued by the bad guy, who fought like Bruce Lee incarnate.

As the ninja tore out a coffee maker cord and hogtied the pilot with it, another hijacker
leapt free from the cockpit and raced down the aisle toward the leader, tapping nervous
fingers against his thighs. “We’re through the magic mirror, boss. Officially in A-fifty-one
airspace.”

“Really?” Growl Man’s rejoinder dripped with sarcasm. “Thanks for the update. And
here we were, thinking we’d simply crossed paths with a psychotic skeet shooter.”

“Hey.” His leader glared at him. “Play nice, assface.” He cocked his head. “That’s
normally not a problem for you. What the fuck has crawled up your backside?”

“Other than knowing that those two shots were purposeful misses? And that the next
one won’t be?”

“That won’t happen.”

“Your confidence is moving. And terrifying.”

For some strange reason, the guy finished by sweeping another glance down at her and
Brynn. For an even stranger reason, Zoe wished he’d do it again. Despite his scary
tone and his gentle-as-a-porcupine manner, there was a protectiveness in him, a ferocity
that made her feel he’d leap in front of bullets for her, if this nightmare came to
that.

Caramba
. This was crazy. A textbook case of captive falling for predator to lessen the terror
of the trauma. She needed to grab reality by the horns again. The leader of these
lunatics had just shot a man’s kneecap off for tossing a little lip. The ninja specialist
up front had taken out both pilots, the air marshal, and a flight attendant in about
two dozen punches. All these men were one mental snap away from actually exacting
lives for their cause.

It was clear. She couldn’t afford the luxury of trusting in silly romance anymore.
Fate had given her that chip to cash in already, and the incredible hours with Shane
had been well worth the gamble, but that kind of lightning didn’t strike twice. If
she wanted the memories of Shane to live on,
she
had to live—and stop imprinting his qualities onto this coldhearted criminal of a
stranger. This time, there’d be no surging ballads or a prince in disguise. Only living
through the next minute. Then hopefully the next.

The engines changed speed again, coinciding with a shift in altitude. They were already
descending. The comprehension hit her with hope and dread in the same heartbeat. Boss
Man didn’t aid her conflict by hauling her back to her feet, then pulling Brynn up
after her. “They’re not going to fire again,” he said to his skeptical minion, “and
our sweet dancerina dolls are going to help seal that deal.”

Zoe kept her fingers twisted into Brynn’s, using the strength for composure. She nodded
back to the man who held the bloody mess that had once been his knee. “What about
wrapping him?”

“Changed my mind,” the man drawled. “You can wrap him up when we’re safely on the
ground—which now makes him a good incentive for helping us out. Right, honey?”

Her nerves screeched like a fork on glass. It was the second time the man used the
endearment on her. Two times too many. She instantly noticed how Growl Man seemed
to agree. His tall frame tensed and he stepped closer, once more giving off an aura
of protectiveness she couldn’t ignore—but had to resist. Those two factors, as well
as the entire situation they came wrapped in, contributed to her own snarl of a response.

“Fine. Let’s get this the hell over with.”

* * * * *

If this experience was nerve-wracking from the cabin, it was a composure killer from
the co-pilot’s seat in the cockpit.

Zoe bit her lip as she looked out the windows, across the desert and its palette of
tan, sage, and copper. The Sheep Mountains glowed in the morning sun up ahead, flanked
by the Spring Mountains to the west and the Muddy Mountains in the east. The valley
they formed was filled with the sprawling checkerboard of the Las Vegas metropolis.
 

Weirdly, she remembered the first time she’d seen this landscape, from the passenger’s
window of Ry’s Acura as they’d approached down the 15 highway. To a born-and-raised
Tacoma girl, the vistas around Vegas had been an alien world, stark and unforgiving,
but the last three and a half years had taught her differently. The desert was now
full of so many textures, moods, and colors—and it was home.

No. It was only the start of what she knew as home.

Home was also the couch back in Tacoma, where she’d cried so many times on
Papi
’s strong shoulders over blown auditions or asshole boyfriends. Home was happy hour
at Commonwealth with Ry, clinking dirty martinis and making up naughty labels for
every hunk that walked in the door. Home was going to be the altar at the winery in
Sonoma, when she watched her little sister walk down the aisle to begin her new life
as Mrs. Ethan Archer.

She had to get home.

She couldn’t die today. She
wouldn’t
die today.

The affirmation gave her the strength to raise her head. And push words out of her
lips.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

Boss Man’s lips lifted the inner edges of his ski mask as he smiled. “Good girl.”

Zoe glared. “Let’s not go there again,
pendejo
. Just tell me what the hell to say so we’re not blown out of the sky.”

His mouth sobered but his eyes retained the gleam, still going for the tease. Zoe
barely refrained from openly shuddering. Why did this
cabrón
make her feel so filthy while his guard coaxed nothing but butter from her limbs
and desire from her core? And why did figuring out the answer feel so important?

And why did she keep allowing thoughts like that to seep in, when so many people’s
lives depended on her concentration right now?

Another hijacker leaned in over her, not Growl Man or the leader. He punched a button
on the console that made her dizzy from its levers, switches, and lights. Two fingers
of his other hand tapped his thigh, confirming he was the frantic status messenger
they’d seen before. Oddly, the stare he swung at her was the polar opposite of frantic.
Zoe shivered a little beneath the man’s glacier regard, until a baritone voice boomed
over the cockpit speakers.

“Hello? Hello? Sunset flight four-oh-three, do you copy? Sunset four-oh-three, be
advised that this will be our final attempt to communicate with your aircraft. We’ve
intercepted passenger cell transmissions from your plane and we know what’s going
on. We’re willing to discuss demands, but if you don’t alter course out of this airspace
now
, you’ll be blasted out of the—”

“No!” Zoe screamed it. “Don’t shoot! You’ll be killing hundreds of innocent civilians!”
They’d never coached her what to say but it felt logical. And terrifyingly truthful.

“Errr, to whom am I speaking?” The baritone almost sounded like a different person.
Zoe was grateful for the guy’s gentler side. Adrenalin and stress still techno-stomped
her nerve endings, taking a hard toll on her sleep-deprived body. She yearned for
this nightmare to end. “Hello?” the man prompted again. “Identify yourself at once,
ma’am. To make this perfectly clear, we’re not fucking around anymore.”

“Neither are these guys,” Zoe snapped. “The air marshal’s unconscious. They used some
kind of Jedi-ninja chokehold on him. His gun’s been used to shoot another man. The
guy’s not dead but bleeding a lot, and they won’t allow him medical attention until
we land. There are more bullets in the gun, and I’m certain this man will use them
if provoked.”

Boss Man let out a satisfied whoosh. “Couldn’t have said it better myself. Thank you,
honey.”

“Fuck off,” she retorted.

A harrumph rustled the connection, lending maturity to the baritone. “Sounds like
you’re doing your best to keep those scum suckers in line, young lady.”

Zoe tried to smile, appreciating the man’s attempt at comfort. “I’m not sure that’s
what I’d call it, sir. Sometimes you just have to put one foot in front of the other.”

“Spoken like some of my best soldiers.”

“Or some of my best dancers.”

“What’s your name, firecracker?”

“Zoe Chestain. I live in Vegas.”

“Zoe, I’m General Kirk Newport. I’m going to do my best to get you get home safely.”

Any thread of ease she’d allowed herself was canceled by the pistol’s barrel, pressed
to her temple with ruthless force. “Social hour’s over,” the leader barked. “Stay
on task, dancerina.”

Zoe dipped a tense nod. She fought back the thousand shards of new terror ripping
up her throat. “General, this man is serious.” The panic won, anyway. The spikes shot
higher, making her chin tremble and her words wobble. “Please,
please
let him land the damn plane.”

Boss Man ground the pistol tighter against her head. “Beautifully spoken, Miss Chestain,
but I believe General Newport already knows how serious I am. Don’t you, Kirk baby?”

Curiosity snuck in beside her fear.
Kirk baby
?

“Cameron. It’s been too long. Wish I could say it’s a pleasure to have found the rock
you crawled back out from, but they say honesty’s the cornerstone of a great relationship.”

Okay, there was history between these two. Would that bode well or worse for a safe
landing once they got done with their pissing match?