"If you insist. Though I'd prefer to leave our friend here in the funeral pyre." He dropped the torch in his hand on the floor and drew a pristine handkerchief from his back pocket. "Turn around."
"What?"
"Turn around." He didn't wait for her to obey but stepped behind her and slipped the handkerchief over her nose and mouth and proceeded to tie it securely. "I don't suppose it occurred to you that fumes from the coke could possibly be intoxicating or even lethal?" "Are they?"
"I don't have any Idea but we're not taking any chances. I'll see if I can find something on one of the guards to use as my own mask." He knelt beside the squat unconscious guard and searched through the man's pockets. "Ah, this may be useful." His thumb pressed a switch on the pocketknife he'd taken from the man and a wicked-looking blade appeared. He handed it to her shaft first. "Get going. I'll have the gasoline in here on the double."
That touch of arrogance again! But she was in no condition to protest at the moment. She silently accepted the knife and turned away. Crossing the room with slow cautious steps, she heard the slithering sound of the guards' bodies being pulled across the wooden floor and out the front door. She knelt beside the plastine bags and began to punch a hole in each bag as quickly as possible. Her hands were shaking a little and there seemed to be hundreds of them. Long minutes passed as she punched bag after bag. Why the devil couldn't the coke have been packaged in bigger bags? These seemed to be kilo-sized… and it sure took a lot of kilos at 2.2 pounds to make up a $6 million cocaine deal.
"All set?" Beau was standing beside her, the gasoline can in his hand and a handkerchief tied over his nose and mouth.
She punctured the last two bags, dropped the pocketknife on the pile and very carefully got to her feet. "All set."
"Outside," Beau ordered, turning her around and giving her a push toward the door. "Ill be with you in a minute." Then he was pouring the gasoline over the piles of coke.
She took a few automatic steps toward the door before she stopped short. What was she doing? This was her job," not Beau Lantry's. She turned back and saw Beau throw the gasoline can down, scoop up the burning torch from the floor, step back and hurl it on the pile of coke. It burst into flame! Beau wheeled and dashed for the door, his arm encircling her as he passed, carrying her with him. "I told you to get out of here," he growled with barely restrained exasperation. "Why the hell didn't you?"
"The whole thing was my idea. I couldn't leave you alone to do my job."
"Couldn't you?" There was an odd searching flicker in his eyes as he paused a few yards outside the door to remove her mask and then his own. "No, I don't think you could, Kate."
He was gazing at her so intently she felt a tinge of uneasiness. "Hadn't we better get away from here before the building goes up? It's bound to bring the rest of Despard's men on the run."
He looked away. "You're right." His hand was beneath her elbow guiding her away from the warehouse. "Let's go."
The warm humid air was striking her face like a smothering wet rag. She'd hoped it would help clear the mist that was interfering with her thought processes but it only seemed to increase the heavy lethargy she was experiencing. "What did you say the name of your ship is?"
"The Searcher." His eyes were once more narrowed keenly on her face. "It shouldn't take long to get to the docks from here, should it?"
"No, not very long," she said vaguely. "Searcher is an odd name for a ship. Most of them are named after women. No one seems to know why." She sounded very coherent, she thought proudly. "Most authorities think it became a tradition when the ancient Greek sailors honored the Goddess Athena."
"I hope I haven't offended your women's lib sensibilities," he drawled. "After all, it's a unisex name."
"Women's lib? What's that?"
He started to smile but it faded into incredulity. She wasn't joking; she actually didn't know. "I'll explain it to you later," he said slowly. Then his mischievous grin lit the lean darkness of his face. "Or then again maybe I won't!"
"Good heavens, it's enormous." Kate's eyes widened in disbelief, her gaze on the three-masted schooner berthed at the dock. "I saw a windjammer cruise ship docked in St. Thomas once and this is almost as large as that."
"I like to be comfortable," Beau said easily. "And I have guests occasionally."
"You must be very rich," Kate said soberly. "It's a beautiful ship, Beau."
"Stinking rich," he said inelegantly. "And I told you in the bar I'd be more than generous with you. You won't have to worry."
"I'm not worried." She glanced away so he wouldn't see how much his words had hurt. "You've been very generous already. If you'll just get Jeffrey away from Castellano, I promise I won't ask for anything else."
His hand was beneath her elbow helping her up the gangplank with a protectiveness that was very comforting. Now that she thought about it, that concern had been in evidence during the entire trip back to the ship from the warehouse. The walk had been made in almost total silence, but Beau's hand had been there to support her at every curb or sudden roughness in the cobblestone street. That instinctive care was yet another anomaly in the complexity of his personality.
"You may change your mind later," he said cynically. "I won't hold you to it. I'm used to paying for what I want. However, I'll see that you get that first installment right away." He gestured toward the man who was strolling lazily along the deck toward them. "Or, I should say, Daniel will. Daniel is very experienced in getting things done, aren't you, Daniel?"
"Very," the big man agreed amiably. "I know all the best ways of making bail, of finding the nearest emergency clinic in every port in the Caribbean, not to mention my talent for bribing or soothing irate fathers, brothers, and sundry municipal officials. What would you do without me, Beau?"
"He's also captain of the Searcher in his spare time," Beau said with a grin. "Sometimes he forgets to mention that. Daniel Seifert, Kate Gilbert. Kate's going to be with us for a while."
Daniel Seifert enclosed her hand in a gigantic paw with surprising gentleness. He was somewhere in his middle thirties and almost as large and brawny as Julio. There the resemblance ended. His trendily cut auburn hair, snapping dark blue eyes and trim auburn beard gave him an attractiveness that had a much more virile impact than Julio's dark good looks.
"I approve of you far more than I did the earlier arrivals," he said, his dark eyes twinkling. "We have enough men on this ship."
"Julio and Jeffrey arrived safely?" Kate asked, relieved.
Seifert nodded. "About an hour and a half ago. I quartered them with the crew." He lifted an inquiring brow at Beau. "Is that okay?"
"For now," Beau said with a shrug. "Are we ready to get under way?"
"As you command." Daniel's mocking smile was a white slash in his bearded face. "Would I dare disobey?"
Beau snorted. "You'd dare do anything, if it pleased you." His glance fell to the captain's huge hand still clasping Kate's. "Are you going to let her have her hand back or are you hoping to form a permanent attachment?"
"The idea has definite merit." Seifert released her hand reluctantly. "I suppose you've already established a prior claim though."
"Definitely." The single word was crisp and incisive.
"Then I gather the guest cabin I had readied won't be needed," Seifert said lightly. "What a pity."
"I have to see Julio and Jeffrey and tell them I'm on board and safe," Kate said, biting her lip worriedly. "Julio won't be able to rest until I do."
Beau shook his head. "Not tonight. You can see them tomorrow morning." He turned to the captain. "I'm taking her to my cabin. Drop in and let Rodriguez know she's safe, will you?"