Neither she nor Blade talked about her leaving, but she’d catch him looking at her and know he felt time slipping away from them. She loved him, couldn’t imagine being happy without him, but he had to feel the same way. He cared, he might even love her, but something held him back from making a commitment. Until what he felt for her was more powerful than anything else, they’d never have a life together.
Seeing the crowded parking lot, she decided on using a valet. Putting the claim ticket in her purse, she headed inside Neiman Marcus with every intention of heading to the haute couture salon on the third floor. She and Blade were attending a charity ball for the Sickle Cell Foundation Saturday night. She’d already pledged the commissions from the remaining sales at Navarone Place. Blade’s donation tripled hers.
Just inside the door the new signature handbags at the Louis Vuitton counter caught her attention. It was never too early to start Christmas shopping for her mother. She’d never spend twenty-three hundred dollars on a bag for herself. Sierra had no problem spending that and more on her mother.
She’d always fussed about the cost but eventually had to accept the items because the price tags were always removed and she didn’t know where to return them. She had done without to care for her children. Now all of them liked to splurge on her.
Not seeing anything her mother might like, Sierra wandered to lingerie. She draped a couple of possibilities over her arm, then decided to see what the evening gowns on that floor had to offer.
She started down the aisle but pulled up short when the hook on one of the hangers caught on another hanger on the suit rack. She stopped abruptly and swung around to free the hanger. A few feet in front of her, a man stopped just as abruptly. Ducking his head, he spun sharply and went in the opposite direction.
She shook her head, thinking he was probably another reluctant man dragged into a store. Unhooking the hangers, she went to evening wear. Fifteen minutes later, she headed to the escalator and the third floor.
“Excuse me,” chorused several teenagers as they rushed by her.
Sierra moved aside to let them pass and saw the man again. As before, he quickly turned away, then pretended to look at a rack of ladies’ suits. Sierra studied him, then went to a nearby mirror. Sure enough, she saw his reflection.
He’s following me.
He’d probably seen her get out of the Maserati and planned to carjack her.
She was too angry to be frightened. Besides, he couldn’t do anything with so many people around. Too many times to count, Luke had drilled into her head what to do in such a situation. She went to the nearest saleslady. “I’d like to try these on, please.”
“Certainly. Let me take those.” Taking the two nightgowns, the saleswoman led the way to the fitting room.
The moment they were out of sight Sierra pulled out her cell. “There is a clean-shaven African-American man in a black three-button suit, weighing about two hundred pounds and about five-ten, following me. Alert Security. I’m calling the police.”
T
ime wasn’t on his side. Blade had known that from the beginning, but he had no idea how much it would disturb him. Blowing out a pent-up breath of frustration, he tossed aside the latest sales figures for Navarone Riviera Maya and went to the window in his home office. If sales continued, they’d be at 75 percent sold by the end of the month. But the end of the month also meant Sierra would leave.
Just the thought of not being able to see her, touch her, made him ache. He missed her, and she hadn’t even left. What would he do when she was actually gone?
His office door burst open. He spun around to see Sierra and a man just behind her. She vibrated with anger. Blade suddenly had a more immediate problem.
Hell was about to break loose.
“Why?” she snapped. “Just tell me why?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Navarone. She spotted me.” George Atkins glanced worriedly from Sierra to Blade. “I had to tell the police everything.”
The man was supposed to be one of the best. Apparently he’d never had an assignment like Sierra. Behind them, Blade saw Shane, his jaw tight. He didn’t look any happier than Atkins. Shane had hired the man on the recommendation of an associate. Blade knew the associate would hear from Shane and wouldn’t be happy when the conversation was over.
“Blade, I’m waiting.”
Her angry tone said she wouldn’t wait much longer. “Please excuse us.”
Shane took Atkins’s arm and closed the door behind them after they left. Sierra kept her irate gaze locked on Blade as he rounded the desk. “Sierra, please sit down.”
She advanced. “Do you know how stupid I felt when your watchdog said you hired him? How exposed it made me feel in front of the police, the store’s security and executives, that my lover didn’t trust me?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Then how was it, Blade? Did you do it because you think I’d cheat, or that I’m too stupid to be left on my own?” she spat.
“I did it to protect you,” he answered.
Her temper spiked. “I told you! I don’t need anyone to protect me. You didn’t listen. I can take care of myself.”
“That’s what she thought,” he said, the words a raspy whisper. His hand swept over his face as if that would take away the image that had haunted him all these years.
“She who?” Sierra asked, her voice hushed.
Blade’s eyes tightly shut, then opened. They were haunted. “My wife.”
Sierra’s legs turned to jelly. She caught the back of the side chair to steady herself. “Your wife. You were married, and you didn’t tell me?”
“There—there were reasons,” he said.
“And you didn’t think I deserved to know?” she asked. When the silence lengthened, she straightened, her arms wrapped around her stomach. She suspected from the agony in his voice and on his face that the woman was dead. “Is she the reason you look tormented at times?”
“Leave it, Sierra,” he said, his voice a ragged thread of sound.
Slowly she shook her head. “I wish I could. If it were anything else I might.” She swallowed. The haunting memory of a deceased wife was an obstacle she hadn’t counted on. “I think it would be best if I resigned.”
“No!” he shouted, grabbing her arms. “No!”
“Blade—”
“No.” He roughly pulled her to him, his hold desperate. “Don’t go.”
She felt his body tremble, recalled that day on the beach when he had been afraid when she was missing. His fear was tied to his dead wife.
Sierra couldn’t withhold her comfort any more than she could stop breathing. Somehow she’d help him fight his demons. “No. I won’t go.” She angled up her head and kissed the hard line of his jaw. “I won’t go. I won’t go. You don’t have to ex—”
“My wife was kidnapped when she was seven months pregnant.” The barely audible words were hushed and tormented.
Sierra gasped, tried to push away, but Blade held her too tightly.
“She was carrying our first child when it happened, a boy. I’d taken her shopping. Instead of waiting outside the dressing area, I wandered off.”
Sierra held him as tightly as he held her, steeling herself against what was coming, what was causing the torture in each of Blade’s halting words. “Faith, on vacation with her parents, was in the next dressing room, and when she went to investigate the commotion she was taken as well. Twenty-nine hellish hours later, Faith managed to free herself and escape. Mary had gone into premature labor and couldn’t follow. She had the baby, but hemorrhaged. By the time we returned to where she was being held, she and the baby were … gone.”
A strangled cry slipped past Sierra’s lips. Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“The inept police and FBI wanted to keep the story quiet. So did Faith’s parents. I agreed because Mary’s parents had suffered enough with the loss of their only child and grandchild. With Rio’s help, I tracked the men responsible.” He shuddered. “They paid, but their deaths won’t bring Mary or our son back.”
By the time he finished, Sierra was sobbing, for him, for his wife, and their baby, who never had a chance to live.
“If I had been with her, it wouldn’t have happened.”
Clutching his shirt, Sierra lifted her head. “It’s not your fault. Blame the men who took her.”
“I’ve lived With that guilt all these years.” His hands clenched. “I never wanted to love another woman or put one in jeopardy because of her association with me.” Finally, he stared down into her tear-drenched eyes. “The week before she was taken, the local newspaper did a story on my success. Once the media learns of our relationship, they’ll plaster the news across the country.” His hands flexed. “I shouldn’t have put you at risk.”
“You haven’t. If anything, it has done the opposite.” Her hands framed his anguished face. “You have a reputation for swift, merciless retribution. Only a fool with a death wish would try to harm me. Let’s not forget, I can take care of myself.”
“I shouldn’t have put you at risk,” he repeated.
“I’ll never regret that we found each other, that we became lovers. Neither should you.” She brushed her lips against his, felt him shudder. “Would you change what we have together?”
“No.”
“Good. You’ll see. You can get rid of Atkins. I’ll be fine. I promise, and I always keep my promises.”
His arms tightened protectively around her. “I’ll hold you to that.”
T
hey attended the Sickle Cell Foundation Charity Ball as planned. Sierra was determined to help Blade overcome the guilt and be happy. However, on Monday morning one of his fears was realized. Not only did their picture from the event appear in the business section of the newspaper but in the sidebar on the front page as well.
Sierra silently read the newspaper Blade handed her after she took her seat for breakfast on the terrace of his penthouse. The article went into the details of Blade’s wealth and mentioned Sierra’s connection to the wealthy Falcon family. The last sentence stated that the reason for Blade Navarone staying in Dallas was finally answered: his relationship with his exclusive broker for Navarone Place, Sierra Grayson.
She laid the newspaper aside. For once, she didn’t know what to say. Her heart ached for Blade. The newspaper article would only increase his fears.
“Now it starts,” Blade hissed. “The media will go crazy.”
“So will my family,” she said.
Getting up from the table, he went to her. Hunkering down, he took her hands. “I’m sorry.”
She kissed him. “Not your fault. Let’s eat breakfast and forget about it.”
Blade didn’t move. “Perhaps—”
“No,” she cut him off, afraid of what he was going to say. “I’m staying. If it will make you feel better, I won’t leave the property unless I tell you.”
It didn’t. There were too many variables. “All right for now.”
Her eyebrow quirked. “That was too easy. What are you planning?”
He kissed her hands and returned to his seat. “Nothing that should worry you.”
“I don’t want a bodyguard or someone following me,” she insisted.
“Noted.” He picked up his coffee cup. There were other ways of keeping track of a person, and Shane knew them all.
A
week later Sierra hurried through the newly finished lobby of Navarone Place to meet Jess, glad for once not to have to deal with the media. She guessed they’d finally realized getting arrested for trespassing wasn’t worth trying to get an interview or a photograph of her and Blade.
Shane was ruthless when it came to protecting them. Rio was just as scary.
Thank God for them,
she thought as she exited the building. At least her family hadn’t appeared. Not yet.
Perhaps Rio and Shane could ease Blade’s fears. She’d tried and couldn’t. Her heart ached for him and what his family had gone through. She was going to do everything in her power to help him realize his wife’s and son’s deaths weren’t his fault. A lump formed in Sierra’s throat at the thought of the senseless disregard for life.
Brushing the moisture from her eyes, she saw the two men approaching her just in time to step to one side of the sidewalk to let them pass. They split, one going to her left, the other to her right. Deep in thought, she didn’t think anything about them separating.
When they were even with her the men turned sharply, each grabbing her arm. Before she could protest, a blunt hard object jabbed painfully into her right side.
“Scream and you’re dead.”
Stunned, Sierra looked from one solemn-faced man to the other. Both were African-American, clean-shaven. One was tall, the other stocky.
“What do you want?”
“That’s a dumb question from a woman who’s supposed to be so smart,” the taller one sneered.
“Here’s my purse.”
The man who had just spoken jerked it from her hand. “We expect to get a lot more out of you than that. Now move.”
It hit her like a closed fist. She was being kidnapped! Blade leaped into her mind. He’d blame himself. She berated herself for not paying attention. She briefly wondered if Mary had thought the same. She would have had the added worry and concern for protecting her baby.
With two men it would be dicey to attempt an escape, but Sierra had no intention of quietly going with them. They weren’t wearing masks, which meant they didn’t care that she could later identify them … if she was alive.
They were heading straight for a mud-splattered white truck. Safety had been drilled into her head enough to know that her chances of survival would go down dramatically once she was inside.
She quickly devised a plan and readied her body. One would drive; the other would round the truck to get inside. Whichever one held her at that point, she’d elbow him, use her stiletto heel on the top of his foot, run like hell to alert Security, and pray the kidnappers didn’t shoot. She wasn’t worth anything to them dead.
“Sierra.”
She looked up and saw Jess loping toward her, a potted plant in his large hands. Of all the people to stop them, Jess was the most vulnerable. The men tensed; the barrel of the gun dug deeper into her side.
“Get rid of him if you want him to live,” hissed the taller of the two.
Jess stopped in front of her, grinning. “Hello,” he greeted the men, then turned to Sierra. “I bought you a present. It’s a staghorn like I promised.” He held it out to her.
“It’s beautiful, Jess. Thank you, but I’m kind of tied up at the moment. Please take it to the boss and tell him and Luke they were right. You’re my Faith.”
“Come on.” Gripping her arms, the men continued to the truck. As she’d suspected, they separated, but Jess didn’t move. He simply stared at them. If she ran or screamed to alert the security guards, Jess might cower because he didn’t like altercations or he might try to come to her. Either way, he was too large of a target.
The short man opened the truck’s door and shoved her inside. Stale food and body odor assaulted her nostrils. The men had waited a long time to carry out their plan. And she had walked right into their hands.
She looked out the back window at Jess still watching them and prayed he’d do as she asked.
B
lade woke up the second Sierra left the bed. It hadn’t taken long for him to get used to the warmth of her by his side. He couldn’t imagine waking up without her, had even put off important business because he hadn’t wanted to leave her. He didn’t reach for her because he knew how that would end up. She had a breakfast appointment.
Hearing her close the front door, Blade dressed and went to his penthouse. Only his personal staff and Rio and Shane knew where Blade spent his nights. In his apartment, he showered and dressed before heading for his office. It wasn’t empty.
“Make yourself at home,” he told Shane.
“Already did.” He munched on a slice of French toast. “I might start to come by more often for breakfast. Wouldn’t want Martin to be unhappy.”
Blade didn’t take the bait. If Blade and Sierra showed up, Martin would cook for them; if not, it didn’t bother him. If they missed breakfast, Martin would go up after the sales office opened to see what she wanted to eat, which worked out well, because Blade wanted to spend as much time alone with Sierra as possible. Thankfully, she felt the same way. If the media weren’t a problem and time wasn’t growing shorter for them, he’d have no complaints.
“With only two estates remaining and the formal grand opening in a week, what are your plans?”
Blade stopped going through the appointment calendar on his desk. Some of the residents were already moving in. Thankfully, the twins were on a cruise with their father and wouldn’t take occupancy for another two weeks. “For once, I don’t know.”
Shane lowered his glass of apple juice. “That’s not like you.”
Blade tossed his pen on the desk. “Tell me something I don’t know. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“All I can say is, it’s about time.”
Blade cut Shane a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know exactly what it means.” Standing, Shane placed his glass on the wooden tray on Blade’s desk. “The security system for the entire complex is complete. You want to take a look?”
Blade trusted Shane completely, with good reason. “Why?”
“Give you something else to think about,” Shane tossed, and went to the door.
Blade came to his feet and rounded his desk. “One of these days, that smart mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble.”
“You don’t say.”
Blade didn’t bother to comment. He simply went through the door Shane held open. In the front room, Blade said, “The press would probably get worse if I showed up in Santa Fe or if she came to Navarone Riviera Maya.”
“Yes, but I don’t think that’s going to keep you away from either place,” Shane said.
Blade silently agreed and opened the front door, frowning as he saw Jess, his large hands clamped around a potted plant. The leaves resembled elk horns. Perspiration dotted his forehead, although the area had zoned air-conditioning set at seventy degrees.
Aware the man was wary of him, Blade spoke softly. “Good morning, Jess. Is that for Sierra?”
He nodded. Swallowed.
“She had an early appointment this morning,” Blade continued patiently. “If you’d like, I’ll give it to her or show you her office and you can leave it there.”
Jess looked up at Blade, then away. “She—she told me to give it to the boss.”
“You saw her when she was leaving, then.” Blade reached for the plant. “I’ll keep it for her.”
Slowly Jess released the plant and looked at Shane. “Are you Luke? I have to tell Luke, too.”
“Luke? What?” An icy shiver raced over Blade.
Jess took a step back. “Before she left with the two men, she said for me to tell the boss and Luke that you were right. That I was her Faith.”
Blade almost dropped the plant. Jess jerked it back just in time. Blade raced toward the elevator. Shane’s shout stopped him. “Too late! We can track her.”
Blade felt light-headed. He pressed his hand against the wall. It was happening again. His fault. His fault.
“Did I get it wrong?” Jess asked, clearly agitated.
Blade fought through rage and fear before he could answer. “No. You got it exactly right. Come inside.”
Jess hesitated. “I have to work.”
“I’ll explain it to the foreman. Now, this is important—to help Sierra.” This time Jess didn’t hesitate to enter and take the seat Blade offered. “Did you see what kind of car or truck they left in? It’s very important.”
“A muddy white Ford pickup,” Jess said slowly and proudly.
There was a brisk knock on the door, and three men entered. Blade recognized them as security. He wanted to rail at them for not protecting her, but this was his fault, not theirs.
“She got into a white pickup with two men. She spoke to me as she always did, and told me she had a breakfast appointment. I didn’t know anything was wrong.” The man looked crestfallen. “She didn’t give any indication that she was in trouble.”
The phone rang just as Shane walked back into the great room. He didn’t have to say a word. From the hard expression on his face, Blade knew.
“All of the signals are coming from inside the building,” Shane confirmed. “She must be wearing new clothes that haven’t been tagged.”
“Mr. Navarone,” Jenkins said, “a man is on the phone demanding to speak with you. I asked him what it was in regard to, and he said to ask you if you were missing anything.”
Blade cursed and raced to his office, Shane on his heels. Blade jerked up the phone. “Hurt her and there won’t be a place on earth or in hell that you’re safe.”
Laughter came through the line, but it sounded forced. “Ten million dollars by eight tomorrow morning. I’ll call back later with instructions. No police or she’s dead.”
“You don’t get one cent until I speak to her now and before the transaction,” Blade stated with barely controlled fury.
“You don’t make the demands; I do. Just start working on the money.” The line went dead.
Blade is too smart to give you any money unless he knows I’m alive and unharmed,” Sierra told the kidnappers. She was held in the kitchen of a small house with her hands tied behind her back. From what she could tell, they were just outside of Dallas. She had a bit more hope that the men planned to let her go when they began arguing over who was supposed to remember to blindfold her once she was in the truck.
“I’m running this, not some hotshot,” Frank, the taller one, snapped.
“We’re
running this,” corrected Gus, the little man, who kept pulling his pants up over his protruding stomach.
“What you’ll be doing is running from Blade, not to mention my brothers, for the rest of your lives. Powerful men make dangerous enemies,” she said, watching the reactions of both men. “Blade has connections all over the world. You won’t be able to enjoy one dollar of the money.”