Destination Wedding (10 page)

They were both silent for several moment, and he was thinking that they’d said more to each other in a half hour of hiding in the bushes than they’d said in the previous six months.

Maybe because she knew he couldn’t get away from her she asked, “How did you hone your special skill?”

“Frank Decorah taught me.”

“The guy who owns Decorah Security?”

“Right.”

“But how did he find you?”

He shook his head. “He’s like nobody else I ever met. He was wounded in Vietnam, and lost a leg.”

She winced.

“He was in the hospital for months, and I get the feeling he came out a different man.”

“How?”

“I think he . . . acquired some way of zeroing in on people with special talents. Don’t ask me how. I was back in the states and going to enlist for my third tour when he showed up in the bar where me and my buddies hung out. He said he’d like to hire me to work for his security agency. He’s a good talker, because I agreed. And after I did, he gave me some special training.”

“Like what?”

“I guess you’d call it mental discipline. He taught me how to focus my mind on making my body disappear from view. And once I started practicing, I got better at it. ”

“Other guys who work for him can do the same thing?”

“They’ve got different talents.”

“Like what?”

“I probably shouldn’t talk about them.”

“Oh,” she said, and he knew she was stung by his unwillingness to elaborate.”

“Sorry. It’s not my place to broadcast their abilities.”

“I understand.”

Again she was silent, then said, “I was too upset to eat much when Zanov had me. Do you happen to have any food in your pack?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. Nothing fancy.” Glad for the change of subject, he sat up, got two power bars out of his pack and handed her one.

“I guess we won’t get arrested for littering,” she said as she peeled off the wrapper and tucked it down into the palm fronds. As she munched, she said, “This reminds me of something. Zanov’s assistant brought me something to eat last night. She said the chicken salad was made the way I liked it—because they had a spy at my dad’s estate.”

He answered with a curse. “That’s probably how he knew Bobby was taking you and Eden out. As soon as you left, they probably sent out a signal.”

“Oh Lord. I didn’t think of that. Who do you think it is?”

“I don’t know. But I’m going to find out.”

She munched on the power bar, not speaking for several moments. Finally she said, “A lot of our staff stay for years. But we got a new maid last year. I didn’t like her. I mean, I got the feeling she was snooping around.”

“You should have said something.”

“I don’t like to rat people out. That’s how I got in trouble yesterday. Lord, was it only yesterday. It seems like forever.”

“Uh huh.”

“When Eden said she was going shopping, I knew I should call you. But then she would have been really mad at me.”

“She’s sorry now. So is Bobby. If it were up to me, he’d be out of a job.”

“I think he’ll be more responsible now.”

“You forgive him?”

“I don’t hold grudges.”

He was finding out more about her than he’d ever known. Not just the facts of her life, but her attitudes.

He was feeling closer to her in ways he hadn’t imagined, and it was tempting to keep talking, but he said,

“You should get some sleep. We’re going to head for the beach just before dawn.”

“I don’t think I can sleep.”

“Try.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me—the only way you can?”

“No. I’m trying to get you to relax.”

“Probably impossible.”

“Turn around.”

She did as he asked, and he massaged her shoulder with his strong fingers, digging into her tense muscles, then working his way down her arms and inward to her back.

She sighed. “That’s so nice.”

He thought she was going to sleep when she asked, “Did Frank Decorah tell Dad about your talent?”

“No. But he thought it would be useful.”

She laughed softly. “Yeah. Sometimes I’d turn around—and you’d be there. And I hadn’t seen you coming. Were you practicing on me?”

“I was trying to keep you in sight without getting in your way. But . . . then I’d start thinking about you, and the talent would stop working.”

“Why?”

“Because my emotions were involved.”

“Emotion interferes?”

“Yes. Like when I was hiding in your bathroom and Victor saw me.”

“Right. I wasn’t thinking too clearly then.”

“And you won’t be in the morning unless you get some rest. I asked Teddy to bring the boat in closer, but you’re still going to have to swim.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Camille supposed the last part was his way of saying that he didn’t want to keep up the personal conversation. And she wouldn’t push it for now. They could talk later. If there was a later.

She canceled the if part. There would be a later because they were getting out of this mess and going on with their lives.

Turning, she settled more comfortably against Nick, using his shoulder for a pillow. It was ironic that she’d fantasized about spending the night next to him, but not under these circumstances. Like she was married to another man who would kill Nick if he caught up with him.

When she winced, he turned his head. “What?”

“I was just thinking that I got married this afternoon,” she said, not spelling out the rest of it.

“Nobody’s going to uphold a wedding that’s not consummated and where the groom coerced the bride into marriage.”

“I hope not.”

“Your father’s got the money to make sure it comes out okay.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Forget it,” he said in a grating voice.

She nodded against his shoulder, wishing she had just kept the question to herself. Probably Nick looked at her lifestyle as the height of privilege. In some ways it was, but it was also a trap. Like the way she was confined to the Norland estate—with bodyguards on duty at all times. And thank God one of them had been Nick Cassidy.

She’d never met a man like him before. Probably he’d say that it was a case of opposites attract. But she knew it was so much more than that. She’d come into contact with a lot of security men, and none of them had impressed her the way Nick had, starting with his integrity. He might have tried to turn her off by talking about his early life. But maybe that was what had strengthened his sense of morality. Someone else might have used his position and their proximity to get himself into her bed. Nick had been just the opposite. He’d keep her at arm’s length.

Was that part of his attraction—that he’d played hard to get? Well, hard to get usually meant that the guy wanted you to fall for him. That certainly wasn’t the case with Nick.

He was so different from almost any man she’d ever met. Her father included. Her dad had inherited wealth and built it into more. That had also given him power over a lot of people, including his daughters. He’d stopped short of urging her to marry a man like Victor Zanov to cement their business relationship, but he had done megadeals with Zanov, and he must have had some misgivings about working with the man. Yet he’d put them aside in favor of—making money. Which was one of his big failings.

She stopped trying to analyze her father and his love affair with wealth. She’d rather think about Nick. What if she were married to him? She’d have a lot more freedom because her father wouldn’t be worried about her all the time. She could leave the estate. They could travel together. Would he be able to keep his job with Decorah Security? Selfishly, she wouldn’t like that because it would take him away from her. And probably also put him in danger. But what if he could head up her father’s security operation? Not just at the estate? At his businesses around the world? Would Nick feel fulfilled by that kind of position—or would he think his wife’s father had given him a job to make her happy?

At the estate she’d dreamed about having an affair with Nick Cassidy. Now she was going a lot farther, daring to think about marriage to him, when getting hitched to her might not match his plans at all.

She was deep into the wish-fulfilment fantasy when she felt Nick grasp her arm with one hand and press the other over her mouth.

Her whole body went rigid as she listened intently and heard the same thing he did, someone moving through the vegetation nearby.

Nick took his hand away from her mouth and brought his lips to her ear, whispering, “Don’t move.”

She answered with a tiny nod, then lay perfectly still, listening to the footsteps in the jungle and seeing flashlight beams cutting through the vegetation.

She saw several beams, obviously from one of Zanov’s patrols. They moved toward her and Nick’s hiding place, then stopped, and she heard them speaking. But she couldn’t understand what they were saying because of the language problem. That was convenient for Zanov but frustrating for her and Nick.

She felt him move slightly, then saw the knife in his hand. He held it at the ready, his attention fixed on the men they couldn’t see.

Eons passed as the guards searched the area, their flashlight beams probing back and forth across the underbrush. Probably Zanov had ordered everyone to be thorough in their searches, and she was thankful that Nick had covered the two of them with palm fronds.

Finally the men began to move away, and she felt Nick relax.

“I guess we passed the acid test,” he whispered, when they could no longer hear movement in the foliage.

“You mean they didn’t think we’d be in here?”

“Right.”

“But you would have fought them with your knife?”

“Yes.”

“Did you have to do that after I heard the gunfire?” she asked.

He hesitated for a moment. “Yeah.”

“What happened?”

“I’m here, and the guy who found me isn’t.”

She shuddered.

“You don’t like the idea of my slashing someone’s throat?” he asked.

“Stop making yourself sound like a murderer. It was self-defense.”

“How do you know?”

“I know you. You don’t kill for fun.” She swallowed hard. “Maybe Zanov would. I think he might even look for an excuse to kill.”

“Yeah, his third wife died in a one-car accident. Maybe she wouldn’t give him a divorce, like the other two.”

She made a strangled sound. “How do you know.”

“We did a lot of research on him.” He stroked her arm. “You should get some sleep.”

“Good luck with that.”

But sometime during the long night she must have dozed off because she heard Nick whisper in her ear, “Time to get off this island paradise.”

Her eyes blinked open, and she looked around, seeing a screen of bougainvillea and other vegetation around her, just visible in the gray light that comes before dawn.

She couldn’t hold back a small laugh.

“What?”

“I survived my wedding night without being captured.”

“Yeah.” He riffled through his pack and brought out some more power bars. “Breakfast.”

This time he handed her a couple of bars, then got out two more for himself.

When they’d finished the quick meal, he said, “And now we have to get to the beach. Wait here while I make sure we’re in the clear.”

She watched as he shouldered his pack, wormed his way to the edge of their hiding place, then stood and stretched before motioning her out.

She also stretched away the kinks in her muscles, then looked around the thick jungle. “Can I make a pit stop?” she asked.

“Behind that tree,” he pointed to one only a few feet away, which didn’t give her a lot of privacy. But it was better than feeling uncomfortable, she decided, as she squatted behind the trunk.

oOo

When she came out, Nick ducked behind the tree in back of him and returned quickly.

“Stick close,” he advised as he removed his automatic weapon from the pack, knowing that he might have to risk using it if they were challenged.

He moved slowly and quietly through the underbrush. Camille followed, making more noise than he’d like, but stealth had never been a feature of her life.

But she was better at it than Zanov’s men. When tramping feet in the underbrush alerted him that they had company, he pulled Camille into the shadows, pressed her against a tree trunk, and covered her body with his.

Four men passed within a few yards of them, and Nick saw the fatigue on their faces. Under Zanov’s orders, they must have been up all night, searching. In fact, he’d heard several groups go by after Camille had drifted off to sleep and had reached for his knife again But none had come as close as the first guys.

Now he and Camille were out in the open again—and more vulnerable. When the guards had passed, he heard her breathe out a small sigh.

“They’re still looking for me,” she whispered.

“And Zanov is going to have a hissy fit when they don’t find you. Come on.”

“They’re more desperate.”

“But they’ve been tramping through the jungle all night, and we’re in better shape because we got some rest. Come on; let’s get the hell off the island while the getting’s good.”

He started for the shoreline again, moving cautiously. Finally, through the trees, he saw the blue of the ocean and allowed himself to hope they were near the end of their ordeal. Only a few more minutes and he could get Camille out of Zanov’s reach.

He saw a boat approaching the shore. At first he thought it was the yacht, coming in much too close. Then he realized it couldn’t be the Minerva. The craft was too small and low in the water.

“Jesus.”

“What?” She turned to him, then followed his gaze. “Who is that?”

“I wish I knew,” he answered as he kept his attention on what looked like a landing craft—with three more following behind it. With another curse, he pulled Camille back into the shadows of the dense underbrush where they couldn’t be seen.

oOo

Four blips on the radar alerted Teddy Granada to a new and unexpected development. He checked the screen, then got out high-powered binoculars to scan the ocean.