Sail Away. Kathleen Korbel

flush against his, her hands against his broad back, her head tilted and her eyes, impossibly, closed.

      Lilly Kokoa had been a practical girl. She was a practical woman. For just a moment, though, a hairbreadth of time locked on the edge of disaster, she lost her logic and flew.

      And then pulled gently away.

      Her breathing was ragged, her skin on fire where it met his, her mind in a puddle. She saw only needy blue eyes, craggy, haggard cheeks, the beginnings of a beard that had left her own cheeks scrubbed. She heard the syncopated rasp of their breathing and knew exactly what she had to say.

      “Um, there’s...something I have to tell you....”

      He didn’t budge. Didn’t loosen his hold or his need or his fine, sweet gaze. “What?”

      At least he sounded as confused as she felt.

      So she closed her eyes. “You’re married.”

      Which was, of course, the exact moment that their kidnapers slammed through the cabin door and knocked her straight back into his arms.

      Three

      “What are you two up to in here?” Huey demanded, automatic pistol pointed at Lilly’s back.

      Cameron—though he still couldn’t quite think of himself as Cameron—just held on to her, as if that could somehow protect her from a trio of inept kidnapers carrying more firepower than the Dallas police department.

      “Trying to get his injuries taken care of,” Lilly grated against his chest.

      At least she wasn’t trying to pull out of his arms. He was sure he didn’t want her to, for the sole reason that these guys were itchy and unprofessional and might shoot. Not because she felt so healing there. Not because he could smell those flowers in her hair, or because he thought she had the softest skin he’d ever touched.

      Which, of course, he shouldn’t be feeling, since he was already married to somebody else.

      Married.

      Nothing came. No image, no feeling, no name. He knew he still hadn’t lost that nagging feeling that he needed to be somewhere else, but the idea of a wife didn’t cement any reason for it. He just felt antsy, as if he had to get home.

      He looked at Duey and Louise lining up behind Huey and decided that his matrimonial status could wait.

      “What do you want?” he asked as calmly as he could.

      Huey smiled. “Financial security in troubled times. Peace on earth. A house in Jamaica the size of LAX. Got a problem with that?”

      Cameron shook his head. “Every boy’s dream.”

      Huey laughed and pulled the gun in to rest across his chest, which he could do, since his partners still had theirs trained on ground zero.

      Louise snickered. “That what famous movie stars wear under their evening clothes these days?” she demanded.

      He looked down to realize that he was still damn near naked. Standing there with Lilly in his arms. Able to smell that plumeria that drifted off her like smoke and struck by the most powerful urge just to sink his face in that silky hair of hers.

      Maybe he’d been in a lot of movies where he’d pretended this happened, but he would bet it had never happened to him in real life.

      “My personal comment on fashion,” he said as evenly as he could.

      He wanted to ask what they wanted. He was afraid to. Afraid they would demand that Lilly leave. Demand worse, when he knew damn well he didn’t have the skills to prevent it.

      He had the urge, the overwhelming reflex, to just lash out. Considering the fact that he still couldn’t put his weight on his left leg, he knew how well that would work out.

      Then Huey surprised him again.

      “Who’s Ethan?” Huey asked.

      He lifted his head, stunned. “What?”

      “Ya deaf? Who’s Ethan?”

      His answer was instinctive. “Me.”

      Lilly almost cracked his chin with the back of her head when she looked up. “You?”

      “What are you talking about?” Huey demanded, the pistol back in place.

      He didn’t know. God, he just wanted to lie down for about four hours and figure it out. Tickle the rest of that memory loose. Figure out this married thing so he could get back to Lilly.

      All he could do was close his eyes and hold his breath.

      Ethan.

      It was his; more than Cameron, more than the tuxes, more than this ship. But he didn’t know why. He didn’t know how.

      “His middle name,” Lilly spoke up, turning carefully to face their captors.

      “That don’t make sense,” Duey snapped.

      “Shut up,” Huey told him. “Makes perfect sense. The computer keeps asking for Ethan, like it’s a password or something. Of course Cameron Ross isn’t gonna just put his real name out there for the world.” Then he turned to Lilly. “You sure?”

      Lilly flashed him a smile. “You kidding? I’ve had Cameron Ross on my bedroom wall since I was twelve. I know more about him than his mother.”

      Huey scowled with meaning. “You know he’s married?”

      Cameron...no, Ethan. Ethan wanted to laugh. Didn’t it just figure he would be kidnaped by criminals who picked and chose their commandments?

      “Of course I do,” Lilly assured the man. “What kind of person you think I am?”

      Louise’s laugh said it all.

      Lilly glared at the three of them. “You knocked me into him, you jerks. He wanted to clean up, and I was trying to get him into the bathroom on a leg that isn’t working very well because you shot him.”

      All three looked down at the gauze and tape that circled Ethan’s leg.

      “Oh,” Huey said, surprised. “Sorry.”

      Lilly sniffed. “You should be. Now get out so he can finish. It’s getting pretty rank in here, and I doubt you’re going to let me get any fresh air any time soon.”

      Obviously stunned at hearing that particular tone of voice coming from a kidnaping victim, Huey turned on Ethan with a little wave of his gun in Lilly’s direction. “You let her talk to you like that?”