Looking down at the ocean far below was a dizzying experience from this height. Zane swallowed hard, turned his back to the water, and glanced back the way they came. Hopefully the pursuers would follow through the mechanical room and lose time instead of staying on deck and closing in fast. When he heard loud footfalls, he turned to chase after the others.

When he made the next turn, Zane skidded to a stop. Bianchi, Norina, and Ty all stood in the middle of an open sitting area sheltered under an overhang, and there was no other exit except the way they had come, the way their pursuers were blocking.

Bianchi and Norina were holding close to one another, backing toward the railing as Ty stood in front of them holding two alligator skin stilettos, as if he could protect the two people behind them when they were attacked. Zane wouldn"t put it past Ty Grady to be lethal with a pair of high heels in close quarters. But the men chasing them weren"t interested in sparring. They"d shoot first.

Ty met Zane"s eyes, and it was obvious even before he said anything that they"d finally hit the end of the line. There was nowhere to run.

Behind him, Zane could hear the men chasing them, shouting and banging around inside the mechanical compartment. They"d blocked the door as best they could, but it wouldn"t hold them long. He hurried over to his partner.

Ty looked up at the awning, then behind them at the railing. He shook his head. “Only way out is down,” he said breathlessly. He looked at Zane. “We have to jump.”

“Jump to where?” Zane asked in disbelief.

Ty gripped his arm hard and pulled him toward the railing. “The pool is down there. We"re lucky—they have the roof retracted for the warm weather,” he said as he peered over. When Ty spoke again he was yelling, giving orders to Norina and Bianchi. “Gather the cushions off these loungers, toss them over. Try to hit the water,” he barked as he tossed the shoes aside and began doing the very thing he"d told them to.

Zane watched as Ty yanked the first thick cushion off one of the loungers and tossed it like an over-sized discus over the railing. He didn"t wait to see where it landed but hurried to the next chair. Bianchi soon moved into action to help him, his frightened wife following at his heels.

“But I do not understand!” she said as she struggled with one of the heavy cushions. “Why must we do this?”

“You"ve got to disperse the weight when you hit water from this high up, or you"ll go straight to the bottom just as if you were hitting concrete,” Ty answered as he tossed another of the cushions over the railing. He turned to Norina and grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the railing.

“Wait!” she cried, and she yanked away from him and gathered her heels and her ruined purse. She slid the shoes on and straightened her shoulders. “I will go as a lady should,” she claimed bravely. “In patent leather heels.”

Ty actually cracked a smile as he pulled her to the railing. “When you jump, make sure you aim for a cushion.”

She looked over the railing and immediately turned her head and put her fingers over her mouth, closing her eyes. Zane thought his heart might stop. They"d be falling three decks or so down to the pool.

“Come, Norina. Just think of the cliff diving,” Bianchi said in a shaky voice as he helped her climb up to sit on the railing. He kissed her hard and fast, and as she started to speak rapidly in Italian, he threw her off the side. Ty and Bianchi both watched her fall, making certain she hit the cushions like she was supposed to. Listening to her thin wail and the distant splash that followed, Zane flinched as Bianchi thumped Ty"s shoulder and then leaped off the railing as well.

Zane heard the next splash and hurried back across the deck to check the walkway. He was just in time to see men bust out of a door and slide into the railing of the side of the ship, almost pitching over.

But then they righted themselves and got to moving.

“Fifty yards and closing,” Zane said, his pulse pounding as he slowly walked backward, watching the hunters approach.

“Come on, Garrett,” Ty urged in a low, tense voice. When Zane finally looked to him, Ty was straddling the railing, holding his hand out. But Zane couldn"t make himself move. He could already feel himself falling as he looked at Ty, and he distantly admitted to himself that he was scared out of his mind.

Ty waited a few heartbeats; then he slid off the railing, crossed the ten feet between them, and took Zane"s hand. He didn"t pull at him, though. “Come on, Zane. There"s no other way. Please.”

Zane had to force the words out as he gripped Ty"s hand like the lifeline it was and stared at his lover. “I can"t,” he breathed. He would have backed away like he had at the cliffs, but he could hear the pounding footsteps approaching.

Ty"s eyes darted to look over Zane"s shoulder, and Zane knew what he was seeing without having to turn. They didn"t have much time. Those hazel eyes he was so familiar with turned back to him, pleading and anxious. “Please, baby. I don"t want to die up here with you,” he said with a weak laugh.

“No,” Zane said painfully. The thought of him being the cause of Ty"s death was too much to handle, and he balked. He pried his shaking hand loose from Ty"s and pushed at him gently. “Go jump. Now.”

“Fuck you, Garrett. I"m not leaving you up here,” Ty growled as he took Zane"s hand again. This time he did pull at him. Despite Zane"s size, Ty"s strength was hard to fight, and Ty got him to move three jerky steps to the railing. “If I have to push you over I will, but then you won"t be able to aim and you"ll break a leg and I"ll never hear the end of it,” Ty grumbled at him almost under his breath as he looked behind them at the three-story drop.

Zane wrapped his free hand around the railing in a death grip.

“I"m sorry, Ty,” he whispered as he met Ty"s worried gaze. Visions of falling warred with the sight of Ty nearly begging him to jump, and for a moment Zane thought he might be sick right then and there.

The first ill-advised shot sent through a decorative grating rang out, pinging off the awning above their heads. Ty ducked instinctively, but he didn"t take his eyes off Zane. Ty"s eyes had always been easy for Zane to read, and now Ty was desperate and scared and not trying to hide it. He put one hand on Zane"s cheek, squeezing Zane"s fingers with the other. “Zane,” he whispered brokenly. He hesitated, his mouth working but no sound coming out. Another shot, this one closer and slightly more accurate, had them ducking together as sparks from the metal railing showered them. Their pursuers were moving cautiously in case their quarry was armed, but time was running out.

“Zane,” Ty repeated desperately as he stood and pulled Zane closer to the edge before climbing over the rail again. “I love you,” he blurted, grip tightening on Zane"s hand in case he tried to pull away.

“Please trust me.”

Zane didn"t think it was possible to be shocked out of mind-numbing fear. But Ty"s words shook him enough that he allowed Ty to pull and guide him, and Zane found himself climbing up to throw one leg over and straddle the railing next to his partner in a sort of fog. “I trust you,” he said in a shaking voice that revealed all too much of his fear.

Ty"s fingers were like a vise grip on Zane"s hand. “On three,” he said softly.

Behind them the men finally rounded the corner, came out into the open, and fired several quick, poorly aimed shots—though one pinged off the railing between them, causing Zane to flinch and wobble enough that he grabbed at the railing desperately, the fright blooming in his chest and blanking his mind.

“Three!” Ty shouted. He wrapped his arm around Zane"s shoulder and leaned sideways, kicking off the railing at the last minute and sending them both plummeting over the edge.

The fall passed much more quickly than Zane expected. Dazed by Ty"s declaration, he barely got in two breaths before suddenly the cushions were there and he slammed into the water, plunging below the surface. Despite the cushions helping to break his fall, Zane felt like all the air was knocked out of him. He gasped before he could stop himself and took in a mouthful of saline water as the momentum took him to the bottom of the pool.

He instinctively launched himself right back up, gasping and coughing as he surfaced, and he flailed helplessly for several seconds.

Trying to breathe and tread water and open his eyes all at the same time was too much to accomplish when his pulse was racing and his heart was practically pounding out of his chest.

A firm grip tugged on his shoulder then just as quickly released him, and he could hear coughing and sputtering nearby as someone else struggled in the water. Screaming and shouting mingled with the rushing sound of adrenaline in Zane"s ears and someone barking orders nearby.

Free of the fear that had frozen him but now literally shaking, Zane finally managed to right himself and wipe his stinging eyes so he could see Ty next to him. “Did you say that to get me to jump?” he choked out.

Ty was struggling through the water toward the edge of the pool.

He looked more like a drowning puppy than the graceful swimmer Zane had seen in the ocean and pool several days ago. Ty didn"t respond; he merely spit out a mouthful of water and shook his head. He threw both arms over the edge of the wall, pulling himself just enough out of the water to be able to gasp in several deep breaths. Zane got to the side of the pool as well, still trying to wrap his brain around Ty"s manipulation and the obvious fact that it had been successful.

Zane was ill, angry, aghast, still scared out of his mind, desperately relieved… a mishmash of flaring emotions he couldn"t sort out. He kept his eyes on his partner, wondering if Ty was going to respond. But Ty just stared at the deck of the pool as he rested his elbows on it, looking a little dazed.

As Zane watched, a heavy black boot stepped in front of his partner"s face, causing Ty to look up at its owner. One of the ship"s security officers stood above him, looking down at them with his arms crossed disapprovingly. Behind him, the Bianchis were wrapped in towels and handcuffed, two other security officers flanking them.

Ty looked up at the man for a few moments longer, then thumped his head down to his forearms in surrender.

Chapter 13

TY SAT with one foot pulled up on the hard berth, his elbow resting on his knee as he stared at the sterile white walls of the holding cells.

There were three of them, each separated by thick wire fencing. Ty leaned his shoulder against the wire of his cell and exhaled slowly.

“At least we"re not being shot at anymore,” he drawled to Zane, maintaining the British accent just because it annoyed the Italian agents and the ship"s security, who were still trying to figure out who the hell they really were. And because he fucking could.

“True,” Zane agreed, shifting tiredly on the small bench in the next cell. He still looked tense. “They"ll clear it up soon enough and let us out of here.”

Once the ship"s security had gotten their shit together, the situation had settled down fast. Mostly because everyone was locked up somewhere or another, according to the various and sundry visitors they"d received to fill them in or taunt them.

Dolce and Gabbana had come by to berate them for sticking their American (maybe) noses where they didn"t belong. The two goons turned out to really be Italian Guardia di Finanza, presumably assigned to shut down the Bianchis. Ty and Zane could only assume Vartan Armen really had been trying for a coup; he"d supplied the Guardia with the information they needed to bust the Italian couple. Ty was fairly sure these two wouldn"t be long for their jobs after all the reports got filed.

It was possible Armen actually hadn"t resorted to attempted murder, but they would never know for sure, since he was now in the ship"s morgue and couldn"t tell anyone what had happened. While Armen may or may not have been the guilty party where the attempts on Ty"s life were concerned, the perpetrators of the scuba-diving and rock-climbing incidents might not be found, according to the captain.

Ty suspected the same men who"d been doing the shooting and chasing; it was probable they had planned to cheat the entire smuggling ring and kill them all. They weren"t talking either, which left a whole lot up to conjecture about who the hell they really were and what had truly happened. They"d been locked up in the jail on Tortola, and they were being held on charges of attempted murder. They might even face charges for attempting to hijack the cruise ship, if prosecutors were feeling particularly vindictive. Ty thought for sure there would be other charges coming along as well, including smuggling, money laundering, and weapons charges pending extradition.

The captain had politely informed them that the Bianchis were on house arrest in their cabin until Dolce and Gabbana could claim jurisdiction.

Ty wondered how the hell he and Zane got stuck in the damn holding cell instead of in their luxurious stateroom with a guard at the door. When Ty had voiced that objection, the captain had politely informed them that they would remain right where they were… until they made port in Maryland.

They might as well get comfortable.

Ty turned his head to peer through the wire at Zane, his mouth twitching into a smirk. “McCoy specifically told me if I ended up in the brig not to call him,” he said with wry amusement. “I"m not sure what annoys me more, the fact that he assumed I"d end up here, or that he was right.”

Zane grimaced, but he still laughed. “But we met the challenge,”

he said. “He owes us—you—for that one.”

“Us,” Ty corrected. He nodded, looking at Zane closely. He shifted and turned, putting his fingers through the wire as he pressed his nose against it. “I know this wasn"t all fun and games for you.”