Hard Core (Onyx Group) (3 page)

“What do you mean, you lost him?”

Not a man accustomed to losing, Gavin Ross stared at the
dark skinned man standing in front of him. The news wasn’t what he wanted to
hear. A man like Slade on the loose was a dangerous thing.

“But you picked up a blood trail?”

His second in command looked away and Gavin’s gut clenched.
“Well, he couldn’t have gone far. The island isn’t big and he’s wounded. Search
every inch until you find him. Then bring him to me.”

“Yes, sir.”

Gavin heard the man walk away and stopped him. “Jose, make
sure he doesn’t make it to Alana.” He didn’t need her saving the bastard.

“Yes, sir.”

The door closed. He stared blankly out the windows of his
office. He had no desire to leave this beautiful island. But he had known his
safe little world would eventually be breached. No one did what he did and got
away with it for long. An alphabet soup of government agencies was after him
and he’d successfully avoided all of them for years. The fact one of them
resorted to sending in a mercenary spooked him.

Soon, he would be a very rich man and he’d disappear again.
Find another remote island to buy and start all over. He only needed patience,
a quality he possessed in spades, because good things really did come to those
who waited. Another three months and the beautiful, talented young doctor would
become his. They had a deal. And he looked forward to collecting.

Alana would come with him when he relocated. He’d allowed
her to put him off for this long, knowing she would never be truly happy until
she saved every last person of that damned tribe she called family. He’d wanted
to get rid of them to avoid witnesses after he bought the island, but she’d
boldly knocked on his door and pleaded for the tribe, anxious to make
arrangements for them to share the island. He’d been unable to deny her
anything, been so enamored by the possibilities of the perfect woman who stood
before him, that he’d granted her six months.

A beautiful woman, graceful, slender, with hands that
performed miracles. He’d seen her work and she was steady as a rock. And just
as stubborn. He would never admit the power she had over him, but he hadn’t
hidden his intentions with her. Thus far, she’d put off his advances in the
name of morality and he allowed it. A first for him. As long as he hid the
truth of the hold she had on him, things would go as planned.

Slade might find his way across the mountain to the camp she
resided in, but the chances were slim. If he made it, Alana would go to lengths
to save his life. Her ethics, both professionally and personally, were
commendable, but problematic. Gavin needed her hardened, not soft and full of
fanciful ideals. The life they would have together left no room for such
notions. She must know she played by his rules now. He’d spared that damn tribe
for her.

He smiled. Oh, yes, she would have her glory using those
competent, steady hands. Just not in the way she’d planned. He would put them
to good use to become an even richer man. Not only in the monetary sense.

The mercenary could be the glitch in his plan. He couldn’t
let the bastard get to her. The island was treacherous for those who knew it. A
stranger would never make it across. Especially not in his condition.

No man was that good.

Not even one running for his life.

A knock sounded on the door. At his command, Jose poked his
head in. “Sir, Dr. Kwei is ready for you.”

His spirits lifted. Kwei didn’t know it yet, but in three
months he would have a partner. Kwei wouldn’t be happy--he preferred to work
alone and vetted his earnings to his family in Africa. But since Gavin was the
boss, Kwei would do as told. A skilled surgeon, Dr. Kwei didn’t raise too much
fuss as long as Gavin left him alone to do his work. Gavin had no problem with
that. Their partnership suited both their needs. The addition of Alana would
only make things more profitable.

With Alana at his side, the possibilities were endless. He
could double the workload, harvest more, and triple the profits. Not to
mention, he’d have the woman of his dreams, sharing his life and his bed.

“Well, by all means,” he said and followed Jose out the
door. “Let’s get started.”

* * * *

Alana walked out of the church and dropped down on the
eroded cement step like always when she finished working. Through dry, gritty
eyes she watched the tribeswomen prepare the afternoon meal while some of the
men hunted and others tended the fire always burning in the center of the small
village. Children played, laughing, with a makeshift kickball in the distance,
drawing a smile from her. Life was so simple here. These people knew the
meaning of happiness and it wasn’t money or prestige, fancy cars, or million
dollar mansions. Not vanity and impressing your friends. It was about survival,
accepting the gifts given, and being thankful for the small bounties life
provided.

At one time in her life, she’d thought she had it all
figured out. A brilliant protegee and the apple of her parents’ eye. She’d
wanted for nothing. In the States, where diseases were easily cured, never had
she feared she might go hungry or lose a family member.

She didn’t covet the life she’d given up often. Sometimes,
yes, she missed Godiva chocolates, silk sheets and a shower, but not enough to
make her go back. Her life here was much more rewarding and couldn’t be traded
for creature comforts. The people were real, honest, and they would never turn
on her. They were her family. She would miss them terribly in three months when
Gavin forced her to uphold her end of their painful bargain.

Even when she and her father had arrived as outsiders, the
tribe accepted them and allowed them to become part of them. Not just as
doctors, but as family. A rare gift. One she would never forget. She would need
her memories to get her through the deal she’d made with Gavin. As a woman of
her word, she wouldn’t renege. She would fight like hell to change it.

Alana crossed her arms over her midsection to ward off the
ache deep inside for what she would lose and could never have again. Gavin Ross
had made sure of that.

“You look tired,
senorita
. You have worked hard to
save the
forastero
. He is doing well?”

Alana looked up at the young mother who nursed her child. By
now they all knew she had brought a wounded stranger to camp. They understood
her reasons, but feared outsiders. Especially a man wearing one of Gavin Ross’s
guard uniforms.

“
Si
, he is doing well. How is the
bebe
?” She
motioned toward the child.

The young mother smiled and gently caressed her daughter’s
face. “She is a strong one.”

Alana smiled at the tiny, dark skinned child. “She’s
beautiful,” she murmured.

“
Senorita
O’Grady! You must come!”

The alarm in Leya’s voice had Alana on her feet. She bid
goodbye to the mother and rushed inside the church. Cristian thrashed around
the narrow operating table, muttering incoherently. He kicked over a tray of
supplies when she walked in, scattering gloves and cotton balls all over the
floor.

“What happened?” Alana threw herself over her patient to
keep him on the table. “He’s burning up. Damn it. Get me--”

Leya was already filling a syringe.

Cristian twisted violently and dragged her over him. “No
needles,” he growled and clamped a hand around her neck. His face contorted
into a mask of pain and fury, alarming Alana for the second time since she’d
brought him there.

Pain burned through her throat as his fingers tightened
ruthlessly.

Leya stared wide eyed at them, hands poised midair. When she
took a step toward them, Alana held up a finger to stop her. Leya stopped
short, looking to her for instruction, genuinely scared--her body trembled.
“What do I do?” she whispered.

Alana could only make choking sounds.

“I said no…needles.” With the strength of ten men, Cristian
pushed her away from him.

She stumbled back and hit the wall hard enough to take down
a shelf of books as she landed hard on the floor. Dazed, she watched five men
charge into the small room and latch onto her patient with no small amount of
care. They pinned him down to the table while Leya flew to Alana’s side and
dropped to her knees on the floor.

“Are you all right,
senorita
?”

Alana nodded slowly, still in a daze. She saw one of the men
fly by and hit the wall, and another take a punch to the jaw.

Shaking her head, Alana rose to her feet. “Get rid of the
needles.” She should have done it before. The panic in Cristian’s gaze when she
brought him in should have been enough. But she’d stubbornly thought it was a
fear she could combat, not a full-blown phobia.

“Stay back,” Leya cried when Alana approached the table on
wobbly legs.

She pushed her way to her patient, ignored the orders to
stay back. Cristian was her patient and she wouldn’t let them harm him for
this. Not for something he couldn’t control.

“Hide the syringe,” she ordered.

Leya scrambled to dispose of it, fear written on her face.
Not that she could blame her. Cristian in a rage was terrifying.

Once Leya had disposed of the needle, Alana cupped
Cristian’s jaw firmly in her hand and forced his head around. His face was
flushed, gaze unfocused, but he stopped fighting when she spoke his name.

“No more needles.” She cleared her throat. “You have my
word.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” He relaxed into sleep.

Alana let out a slow, shaky breath, her throat on fire, her
head pounding. “Get him to my hut,” she said wearily.

The men stared at her like she’d lost her mind.

“I can’t treat him here. He’ll get violent every time he
opens his eyes. Doesn’t matter if the needles are hidden or not, he won’t trust
me as long as he knows they’re here. Please, take him.”

Clearly opposed to the idea, the men picked up her patient
and carried him out of the church. They would do as she asked, but they didn’t
like it. They knew once she set her mind to something there was no turning back.

Leya pressed a cool cloth to her throat. “Do you think it
wise to allow him into your hut?”

The cloth soothed the soreness. “I have no choice. He’s
terrified of needles and they’re everywhere. I’ll be fine.”

“You cannot talk, let alone care for a man as violent as
that one. He is dangerous,
senorita
.” Leya’s eyes filled with concern.

Alana shook her head and pressed the cloth to the side of
her neck. “No, he’s with fever. He doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

“Alana?”

Her father’s alarmed voice filled the room. Alana tossed the
cloth to Leya and pulled her collar up to cover the bruises she could feel
forming on her neck.

Her father rushed to her side, his face pale and drawn. When
he saw her, he paled even more. “Oh, dear God, Alana, what did he do to you?”

When he pulled her into his arms, Alana wilted. The fear she
hadn’t allowed tumbled in and the aches she’d ignored from the long night came
on with a vengeance, until she trembled uncontrollably in her father’s arms.
He’d always known what she needed, and right now she needed to lean on him.

It took a few minutes to pull herself together, and with one
last shuddering breath she pulled away. Her father reluctantly let her go,
concern in his eyes as he scanned the annihilated room Leya was trying to put
back together.

“He certainly made a mess of things, didn’t he?”

Alana let out a small chuckle, and then winced. “He’s
delirious with fever, Dad. I don’t know if we have enough antibiotics to clear
the infection.”

“You removed the bullet, I see. The site is infected?”

The bullet lay on the floor, kicked over with the table.
“Yes, he wouldn’t let me give him a shot of penicillin and we’re almost out of
oral antibiotics.”

Her father nodded, in control again.

“Then do what you can to keep the site clean and dry. Try to
get the antibiotics in him however you can. I’m told you’re going to care for
him in your hut?”

Alana squared her shoulders. “Yes. He’s terrified of needles
and gets violent whenever he sees one. I think it’s best.”

Her father studied her with a frown. “From what I’ve seen
he’s a dangerous man, Alana. Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“I am.”

Being a fair, just man, her father nodded. He had always
trusted her judgment, nurtured her independence, taught her to think for
herself and make sound decisions. She’d almost lived up to his standards.

“We have to consider the consequences of treating him. Have
you thought of that?”

In truth, no, she hadn’t. Her attention had been focused on
her patient and saving his life. Not on the consequences of doing so.

“We don’t know the circumstances, Dad. We’re bound to help
him. We can’t leave him to die.”

Her father’s frown deepened. “We’re taking a risk keeping
him here. We don’t need the trouble, Alana, not with the peace we’ve had.”

“I know, but I don’t see how we can turn him away. That’s
not who we are. I’ll handle Gavin Ross if he comes.”

Her father’s expression darkened. “I don’t want you near
that man.”

Alana laid a hand on his arm. “Let’s cross that bridge when
we get to it. For now, I have a patient to attend to.”

“I’ll post guards outside your door. I don’t trust him,
Alana.”

“You trust me, so please don’t worry, Dad. Please.”

He pulled her into his arms for one last hug and said
softly, “I do trust you.”

* * * *

The tribal leader waited outside her hut when Alana arrived.
It took longer to convince him she was doing the right thing than it had her
father. As leader, he had a responsibility to his people and she put them in
danger by treating this man. She didn’t blame him for being wary, but he gave
her his approval, and warning, before walking away.