Ricochet Read Free Page A

the hell? She missed the mumbled response as their footfalls disappeared down the corridor. What had the two men been doing below decks? Looking for her? Setting a bomb? Either thought sent an icy chill across her skin.
    Her heart knocked triple time. Colton, plus diamonds, plus the hair on the back of her neck lifting after hours of having a ‘bad feeling’? Whoever these men were, Hannah’s gut told her in thirty minutes, and however many seconds, the ship was going to blow up with herself and GQ on board.
    Not good. Not good at all.

THREE
    G rayson entered the well-lit, gleaming mahogany paneled corridor where the cabins were situated. Two men, twenty yards ahead, one in the white crew uniform, the other a salt-and-pepper-haired guy in jeans, dark shirt, a handgun tucked in the small of his back. The Stone’s Throw , pirated half a world away, had been fully crewed. Those same people were still on board, but it was unlikely the hapless crew knew anything useful about Stonefish.
    Collateral damage was inevitable.
    With a silenced pop, Grayson got off one, well-placed shot, hitting the jean-clad man in the back of the neck just beneath his skull. Half his brain splattered on the mahogany paneling in front of him, dropping like a felled oak part-way up the carpeted stairs. Without hesitation, the crewmember broke into a run, disappearing up the stairs, where the rest of Grayson’s team lay in wait. They’d contain him. Done and done.
    Using the skeleton key, he systematically checked each cabin, finding the woman in the second to last room, at the far end of the hall from the stairs where the man had disappeared. Long legs, and a shapely, jean-clad ass was all he could see of her. He wasn’t sure if she was dead, passed out, or taking a nap on the floor half under the bed.
    Soundlessly crossing the room, Grayson gave her ankle an economical yank, pulling her free of the bed hangings, and hauled her to her feet in one smooth move. Pressing her back against his chest, he palmed her mouth well before the scream he felt vibrating in her chest erupted.
    He’d killed women in the line of duty, but he hated doing it. A pop to the back of the skull, like the man out in the corridor, and it would be over. In his line of work he didn’t have time to linger or get soft.
    She, however was soft. Soft and fragrant and madder than hell as she fought him for all she was worth. But since his arms were banded over hers, and he was holding her tightly against him, she was pretty ineffective. His head jerked back as she tried to head butt him, harmless, except that her blossom-scented, honey-blonde hair, lashed across his cheek.
    Grayson’s senses filled with a unique, scent-induced memory, and a struggling woman whose body felt exactly like Hannah’s. His momentary distraction was all she needed to twist out of his hold, and come at him with her full body weight.
    Fuckit.
    Grayson felt as though he’d just taken a shot to the chest.
    He hoped his mind was playing tricks on him, because God only knew he’d had this particular fantasy before. A time or two…or a thousand.
    He reached out, grabbing her, and twisted so he landed on top of her on the bed, clamping both slender wrists in one hand over her head. He used his weight to hold her thrashing legs down with his feet bracketing her ankles. Furious blue eyes met his as she bucked beneath him.
    Fucking hell. No mistake. “Jesus. Hannah?”
    With her streaking blonde hair spread in a wild tangle around her head and shoulders, and her breasts pressed against his chest, she looked more perfect than that girl next door. More heart-stoppingly beautiful now than she’d been on that summer night by the lake where he’d taken her virginity, and only slightly less pissed than when he’d returned home to claim her on the anniversary of their wedding day.
    Going deadly still, she stared up at him in shock and horror, big blue eyes wide. “Grayson?” she gave a bitter laugh. “Oh, this