In Rides Trouble (Black Knights Inc. #2)(8)



Yeah, perhaps if all he wanted to do was throw an arm around the girl’s, er, woman’s shoulders and knuckle her head, he wouldn’t walk around most days feeling like a skeevy old perv. Feeling like, despite his best efforts, he’d become no different than—

“Six hours,” Bill murmured, glancing at his own watch and interrupting Frank’s thoughts. “Midafternoon is a terrible time to attempt a rescue.”

“Which is why we’ll wait until tonight,” Frank decided quickly. “Breaching the catamaran would’ve been a cinch, and we could’ve done it at high noon. Overtaking the tanker? That’s a little different. Not only are we going to need the time to plan, we’re also going to need the cover of darkness in order to ensure our safety and the safety of the hostages.”

“Ah, this is obviously some strange usage of the word safe that I wasn’t previously aware of,” Bill said.

“Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy?” Angel said.

Bill winked, and the two of them bumped fists.

“Jesus Christ,” Frank growled. “You guys are killing me.”

They both turned to grin at him.

Patterson glanced at the three of them and finally shook his shiny bald head. If there was ever a casting call for a new Mr. Clean, the commander was a shoo-in. “I agree with waiting for nightfall, but there’s one thing I don’t get.”

“What’s that?” Frank asked, fighting the smile pulling at his lips at the thought of the staunch military officer sporting a little gold hoop earring and winking at appreciative housewives across the world.

“Why would the pirates, with nothing more than a couple of skiffs and a catamaran, go after a floundering tanker? There’s no way for them to get that beast into harbor, no way to tow it, so why are they risking their lives and the ransom they expect to receive for Miss Edens and Miss Reichert?”

“Bill,” Frank dipped his chin, “you want to answer that one?”

“They’re hoping Becky can fix it,” Bill supplied, totally deadpan.

“They’re hoping she can fix what?” Commander Patterson asked. “The ship’s engines?”

“Yes.” Frank grinned, loving the incredulity on the commander’s hard face. “That’s exactly right. And what a prize it’ll be for them if she does. I’m assuming, given the tanker’s designation as one of BP’s fleet, she’s a big one. Probably carrying a typical load, which, if memory serves, comes to about one hundred million dollars worth of crude. Even if BP is only willing to pay three percent, that’s still a major victory for the pirates.”

“Three percent?” Angel rasped in his scratchy voice, the one he’d received courtesy of a good old-fashioned vocal-cord scouring, which guaranteed no voice recognition software could ever identify him. “After that catastrof*ck in the Gulf of Mexico, they’ll pay a lot more than that. The last thing they want is another scandal on their hands.”

Catasrof*ck?

Frank, a self-described connoisseur of creative cursing, quite liked that little combination. Perhaps working with Angel Agassi wasn’t going to be so bad after all…

“Do you think it’s possible?” Patterson asked. “Can she get those engines up and running? The ship’s engineers have been working on the problem for days with no success.”

Frank shrugged. “With Rebecca Reichert anything’s possible, and I’ve never seen a more intuitive mechanic in my life. If there’s a way to get the engines going, Becky’ll find it.”

“By the look on your face, Commander Patterson, I’m assuming you’ve seen the news footage of Becky.” Bill chuckled.

Yeah, unfortunately the networks had gone crazy with the story of the American women captured by pirates. Frank hated publicity as a general rule, and when the media stuck its long nose so close to him and his men? Man, it took every ounce of restraint he had not to go all Sean Penn and start punching folks. That was another thing he could punish Becky for once he got his hands on her…

Oh Jesus, he was not going to go there again. The mental image of bending her over his knees and paddling her sweet bare ass until it turned pink was just too…erotic. He’d never been into S&M before, never felt the need to tie a woman down or playfully spank her butt, but Becky was just so…so…independent and…and damned…confrontational that she brought out the caveman in him. He’d like nothing better than to take his flex-cuffs, secure her wrists and ankles to his bed posts, and prove his dominance once and for all. Which was weird, disturbing, and so, so wrong.

But there you go. That summed up his feelings for her perfectly. Weird, disturbing, and wrong. Still, just the thought of having her at his mercy made his shorts tight.

He glanced around at Patterson and Bill, hoping the sight of their manly faces would be just the visual cold shower he needed to wash away the raunchy images heating his brain and other parts of his anatomy, because, yeah, talk about a piss-poor time to pop a boner…

“But don’t let her looks fool you,” Bill continued. “Becky’s an absolute wizard when it comes to wielding a wrench.”

“But how would the pirates know that?” the commander asked. His puzzled expression screamed his difficulty at melding the image of the pretty, blond woman he’d seen on television with the one they were all describing.

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