The Captain's Lady by Lorhainne Eckhart Page A

information is sketchy. He assured me they will track this guy and find out what's going on."
    Troubled by the sudden iciness in the air, Eric turned and walked to his chair, sat, and leaned back into the buttery softness. “Did you make sure Edwin knows this is to be kept low key? I don't want any higher ups in the CIA getting wind of Abby, especially in light of the FBI, and Interpol, getting involved."
    Joe inclined his head as he raised his eyebrows. “Excuse me, Eric, but there's no way to guarantee that. Edwin will keep it as quiet as he can. He's using his own contacts, but there're leaks everywhere. You know as well as I do that the higher ups have a way of finding things out, even when we thought they were long dead and buried."
    Eric grimaced over the accuracy of his friend's statement. He tried to force the stony cold mask back into place, but lost the struggle to contain his frustration and slammed his fist on the desk. “Dammit ... I know what you're saying is dead-on right.” He took a breath, held it, then let it out slow, between his teeth. “Just do what you can to make sure this guy doesn't go leaking anything himself."
    Joe rose from his chair, hesitated a moment in the doorway, then left.
    Letting out an agitated sigh, Eric leaned his head back in the chair and closed his eyes tightly. Not since he was a kid forced into the system had he felt so helpless. In that moment, he made the decision: whatever he needed to do to protect her would be done. For just a second he allowed his thoughts to wander to the reason for this protective instinct; as commanding officer she was under his protection. “Yeah, right,” he spit the words out, shook his head and cursed aloud at such a ridiculous argument.
    This woman, even in her present condition, stirred something vital and primitive deep inside. These unexpected feelings were foreign; the fear of that alone generated a powerful uncertainty deep in his gut, which he knew no amount of Tums would cure. He jerked open the top drawer of the desk, reached in and took out his medals. They were things other men wore on their shirts, or framed over a mantle. He looked down at them in hushed reminiscence, trying to rekindle the powerful feelings of satisfaction, glory, and pride he had felt when he earned them on a mission years ago in the South China Sea. Try as he might, the emotions wouldn't come. The shadow of a deep-seated loneliness took hold. He had been alone for so long, all the glory meant nothing without someone special to share it with.
    Sighing again, he returned the medals to the drawer, and then closed it with a swish of his hand. He rose and left the cabin, slamming the door after him, making a decision to do the one thing that had always worked before, bury himself in work, his first love, the sea.
    Heading up to the bridge, Eric made a mental note to do a surprise inspection at all the stations. His crew was really gonna love him for this.
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    Chapter Twelve
    Her wrists were raw where the rope bound them together. It was slippery back there. The musty scent of sandalwood incense wafted under the door. Darkness surrounded and permeated her already raw senses; she absorbed every sound and movement. Fear forced her to concentrate on her breathing, slow and steady, deep breaths. Panic knotted her gut, threatening to take hold. The blindfold was scratchy; the knot in back was tied so tight it dug into the back of her head.
    The approaching voices in the hallway were angry and loud. Abby concentrated, desperate to pick up any familiar word in the foreign tongue, anything that would give a clue as to their plans for her.
    The door opened. Light burst in, silhouetting two men. They headed right for her. Abby's heart slammed her chest, wham, wham. She was sure they would hear it. Each reached down and jerked on her elbows, yanking her erect. The abruptness knocked her off her feet. Then they began dragging her across the