His eyebrows shot up and he rocked back on his heels. Well, shit.
He’d imagined her as a mother once. To his children. He’d fallen so hard and fast during their three weeks together it had scared him witless, but in his mind he had seen their future playing out into marriage and kids and forever. He’d even contemplated leaving the PJs for her.
Fool.
She rushed to fill the silence before he could think of a response. “Part of the adoption process requires me to reside on the island continuously for six weeks. It’s been a month since I submitted my paperwork, so I only have two weeks to go.” Leaning forward, her voice grew stronger as she said, “If I leave now, we’ll have to start over. Flore will be stuck here for another six weeks, surrounded by armed militants, struggling to keep her asthma under control. She needs a healthy environment, a good diet, and access to consistent medical care. I can give that to her, but not if I leave.”
“And why do you have to be the one to adopt her?” he asked.
“Because there’s no one on the island willing to take on a nine-year-old.” She squeezed her hands into fists against her heart. “And I love her.” Her voice cracked. “I love her, Dan.”
The look on Alexa’s face made it hard to draw breath. It was the one he’d once desperately hoped to see when she looked at him.
God, he wanted to hate her. She was ruining his plans. No bonus meant another year of paying off bills, another year until he could start rebuilding his savings, another year before he could move forward with his life. How much easier all this would be if she were some spoiled, snobby heiress who’d gotten in over her head. He’d been angry and hurt for so long, surviving by convincing himself that she couldn’t possibly be as amazing as he remembered. But goddammit, she was.
She was selfless and caring and strong.
And he was so fucked.
Closing his eyes, he rubbed a hand over his face and took a deep slow breath. Now what? “None of that changes the fact that you’re in danger.”
She stood. “I’ll pay you whatever my dad was paying if you stay until I can take her home.”
The offer was tempting. She’d have a guard and he could get the money after all. Except the thought of taking money from her chafed. Besides, he had other obligations. “I can’t do it.”
She bit her lip. “I know we have a rocky history—”
He gave a bitter laugh. Was that how she saw it?
“But,” she continued, “I need your help. And I trust you.” She stepped closer, her golden-red hair glowing in the bright sunlight. “I’m not sure how my dad found you, or why, but I’m glad he did.”
That made one of them. He shifted sideways to put more distance between them. “Even if I wanted the job, I can’t do it. I have to be back in the States by Friday night. Mick Fury’s getting married and I’m the best man.”
“Really?” For a moment, the furrow between her brows eased. “He’s the last guy I ever thought would settle down.”
On that they agreed. He’d known Mick had a thing for Jenna for years. He just hadn’t expected the guy to do anything about it. “Yeah, well, he is. And I intend to be there.” He could call Kurt. They had other people who could provide protection detail for Alexa. Like Jason Chin, former college wide receiver, former Combat Rescue Officer—a PJ who was also an officer—former underwear model. Seriously, the guy should have come with a warning label.
Women loved that half-Korean, half-black son of a bitch.
The thought of Jason getting close to Alexa rankled, and Dan hated himself for it. But there had to be another way. “You’re dad’s a goddamned billionaire, surely he could have pulled some strings to help you get Flore out of here sooner.”
She shook her head and sighed. “Maybe, but I didn’t want his help. And I didn’t want to cheat the system like that. Children are traded and sold like commodities all the time in poor and struggling countries like this one. Sometimes they’re not even orphans. Of the eight kids at the children’s home where Flore lives, she’s the only one without a family.”
Her voice was charged with anger as she met his gaze, her face flushed and beautiful. “Corrupt governments look the other way while these adoption agencies stoop to emotional blackmail, kidnapping, and payoffs to collect children, all the while patting themselves on the back for getting the kids into ‘good Christian homes.’ As if that makes it okay. If I bend the rules, how am I any better?”
Well, shit. He’d heard about adoption scams in Haiti. Overburdened parents sold one child to feed the rest after some slick agent convinced them their child would be better off in America where the adopting parents often had no idea the child’s biological parents were still alive.
“I get it,” he said. “I even admire your conviction, but that’s not what you’d be doing. You said she’s actually an orphan, and you’d be ensuring your safety and hers.”
“I know.” She made a frustrated gesture with her hand. “But part of the process is the search for extended family. I can’t deny her that. If I took her home and then found out she had family here, I’d be devastated. And I wouldn’t want to put her through that kind of pain.”
“Does Flore know you plan to adopt her?” he asked, awed by her determination to protect the girl’s best interests.
Alexa nodded. “She’s nine. Old enough to understand, but young enough to be confused about it too.” Her face brightened. “But you should see her, Dan. She’s so smart, and tough too. Life has not been good to her, but she’s not bitter about it. She’s always flashing her beautiful smile…” She spread her fingers and addressed her palms. “I wish I knew her secret.”
What did Alexa have to be bitter about?
Not that rich kids couldn’t suffer. He’d seen plenty of messed-up families during his summers working at the country club back home in Albuquerque. But Alexa had never shared much of her family history with him. Of course, now he knew why.
And it wasn’t important. What mattered was finding a compromise that would keep Alexa and Flore safe. He could pull a team together to search for the girl if need be, but for all he knew, she was unharmed, still at the orphanage.
“Okay, I’ll table the discussion about leaving for now. Since we can’t just make a phone call”—the baggie protecting his satellite phone had leaked—“what’s the quickest, safest way to get intel on Flore?”
She studied him for a minute. “Hygiea HQ is in Haiti. I assume they know about the attack, since my dad got a ransom note.”
“Not necessarily. Frederick emailed your dad directly.”
“Oh. Then we have to go to Terre Verte.” She covered her mouth and her eyes widened. “What if they just left Garfield there?”
Shit. “We’ll go, but you realize that’s the first place the rebels would look for you. If I were Frederick, I’d leave a lookout near the clinic in case you returned.”
“Don’t you think they’d expect me to be long gone by now?”
“Not if they stole my boat.”
She bit her chapped lower lip. “I’m willing to take the risk.” Her blue eyes met his. “You don’t have to come.”
“Like hell.” Did she really think he’d let her go alone? He noted the dark circles under her eyes and the slump of her shoulders and released his indignation. “Can you make it that far?”
She steeled her spine and lifted her chin, determination flashing in her eyes. “I’ll be fine.”
He nodded. “Okay. Let’s clean up.”
They finished their snack and Alexa tossed the banana leaves into the jungle while Dan packed everything back into his bag, dry or not. He didn’t want to leave behind any obvious evidence of their presence.
They set off through the jungle keeping the sun to their backs as they trudged west toward Terre Verte. The four-mile journey was hard going over thick roots and muddy pits. They walked in silence, but still made more noise than he would have liked as he brushed aside leaves and limbs and vines while keeping eyes and ears ope
n for threats.
Frederick’s men weren’t the only hazard. Snakes like the fer-de-lance and the boa constrictor could be just as deadly.
When they reached a footpath that she recognized, he let her lead so he could keep an eye on her, and because she knew this part of the island better than him. Last time he was here, they’d been stationed closer to Sancoins and hadn’t explored much beyond their camp. It hadn’t been a vacation, after all, nor a long-term assignment.
Just long enough to get his heart crushed.
He mostly managed to keep his eyes off Alexa’s ass as he followed her through the forest. What masochistic part of him had thought helping her find Garfield and Flore was a good idea?
Yet he didn’t know how to say no to her. Nor could he turn his back on someone in need. First and foremost, he rescued people. That was who he was. He was good at it. And there was no greater feeling than saving a life. Sometimes it almost made up for those he’d lost.
Ahead of him, she paralleled the worn trail, but stayed several yards to the side, somewhat hidden among the thick foliage that provided anemic respite from the hot sun.
He stopped frequently to let Alexa rest, and so they could both drink water from his second—and last—canteen. They had been walking for about two hours when he heard men’s voices.
Alexa froze. Turning to meet his gaze, she mouthed, “The airfield.”
Based on the map and their general direction of travel, she was probably right. The small runway was about two miles from Terre Verte. Hygiea and other NGOs—non-governmental organizations—often used it to bring in supplies. According to the file Kurt had compiled on the area, the airstrip was fully fenced and manned by armed security contractors from the U.S.
But even if these guys were friendly, Dan didn’t know how much to trust them. Better that no one knew where Alexa was.
His pulse raced as he gripped the handle of his fixed-blade knife and kept the brim of his hat down to conceal his face. He had a pretty dark tan, but it would still stand out compared to their surroundings. At his gesture, Alexa dipped her head too.
“Stay here,” he said under his breath.
She nodded and he dropped his ruck, motioning for her to sit on it if she needed a rest. Then he crept through the trees and brush until he could see the fence beyond the twenty yards of short grass that ringed the entire perimeter.
Concertina wire topped the ten-foot, chain-link barrier that stretched for about six hundred yards and surrounded a small shack at the far end. Guards with assault rifles were posted at each corner and at intervals along the length of the runway, some inside the fence, some outside.
Serious security. Either the NGOs had been getting hit hard, or someone else had a reason to control that runway. Not that Dan had time—or a good reason—to worry about it.
The good news was that he and Alexa were near one end of the runway, away from the shack, and they wouldn’t have to go too far out of the way to get around it.
He made his way back to her and pointed to their new heading. He gave the airfield a hundred-yard berth, circling back toward the mountain peak he’d been using as his landmark during their trek.
They were nearly back on track when someone shouted, “Hey! Hold it right there.”
Alexa jumped at the unexpected voice behind them, and then went stock-still. On the outside, anyway. Inside, her heart was running a hundred miles an hour.
Dan snagged her shirt and dragged her behind a screen of palms, gesturing for silence.
The usual jungle sounds died away as something crashed through the growth from their left. Through the narrow breaks in the leaves, she could just make out a skinny black man in tattered shorts and jelly shoes as he raced past, not ten yards from their hideout. A stocky blond dressed in black from baseball cap to boots thundered after him, gripping the rifle slung across his chest as he relayed his location into a shoulder-mounted radio.
Alexa’s knees nearly gave out on a rush of relief, but she locked them and stood fast. She and Dan hadn’t been spotted, but they weren’t safe yet. If a bunch of security contractors descended on the area, their hasty cover wouldn’t protect them for long.
He leaned close. “We need to move out.” His voice was hardly more than breath on the wind.
He gestured her forward and she passed, her body suddenly racked with tremors. Her insides turned to jelly, but she trudged on. Based on the shouting from their right, it sounded like the guard had caught up with his quarry. The noise was enough that she couldn’t even hear her own steps as Dan moved into place behind her, putting himself between her and the commotion. Protecting her as always.
He’s just doing his job. He’d do the same for anyone.
That willingness to put himself in harm’s way for others was one of the things that had drawn her to him.
Behind them, the additional voices rang out. Alexa glanced back at Dan.
“Let me lead,” he said, pushing past her to clear a path through the thick growth. “We need to make tracks before whatever’s going on spills over onto us.”
She picked up her pace in an effort to keep up with his long strides. The few hours of sleep she’d managed this morning had barely taken the edge off her fatigue. Her muscles ached and her bruised ribs and hip hurt, though the cold water must have helped with some of the swelling. She could move more easily than the day before.
They pushed on for what seemed like hours, but the sun that filtered in through the canopy of trees hardly budged on its journey across the blue sky.
Finally they reached a narrow dirt trail that had been cut through the jungle with years of use. “This is it,” she said.
Dan stopped by the path and took out his canteen. “Here. Drink.”
Now that she knew how close they were, Alexa wanted to run, but she forced herself to take a second to hydrate. God knew she needed it.
“Why don’t you lead us in?” he asked. “But go slowly, and keep an eye out for anything that doesn’t look right.”
She took a deep breath and gradually let it out, forcing herself to calm down. “Okay.”
Five minutes later the jungle opened onto a banana plantation that skirted the eastern edge of the village. She could make out a row of shacks through the trees.
“Stop here.” Dan grabbed her shoulder to hold her back. “Let me scout things out first.”
He set down his pack and moved silently forward. How did he do that? It was like he walked on cat’s paws instead of combat boots. She must have sounded like an elephant on bubble wrap compared to him.
He crept to the edge of the plantation, hidden behind the long arms of a clump of enormous ferns, and surveyed the area. He signaled her to stay and then disappeared into the jungle.
Alexa automatically reached for her watch, her fingers itching to twist the bezel, but her wrist was bare. She forced herself to stay still even as her heart pounded like a bass drum in her chest. She was so close to what she currently thought of as home. So close to learning about two people who meant the world to her.
Finally, Dan reappeared and waved her forward to join him. “We need to go around.” He pointed.
Fifty yards ahead, a man in a red polo and tan cargo shorts stood in profile, smoking a cigarette with one hand, stroking the ugly machine gun strapped to his chest with the other.
To avoid the guard, they backtracked into the trees and walked further along the boundary, looking for another way in. She swatted at the bugs that swarmed her sweaty face, and tucked her hair behind her ears. What would she do if they couldn’t find a way into the village?
Alexa squeezed her hands into fists. Goddamn Frederick and his goddamned army. She understood their frustration at the lack of jobs and the slow pace of rebuilding, but she couldn’t abide their tactics. Much of St. Isidore’s infrastructure had been damaged in the recent hurricane. Unemployment was high, tourism was nonexistent, crops had been destroyed. The storm had decimated the island just as the people were beginning to recover f
rom the earthquake that had struck three years ago.
But there had to be a better way to effect change.
At Dan’s direction, Alexa crouched and studied the village through a field of banana plants and low palm trees.
According to her nose, they were near the cesspool that collected Terre Verte’s waste. Apparently, none of the guards were eager to spend their day inhaling the pungent odors. She avoided deep breaths, unable to blame them.
After several minutes of waiting to ensure they hadn’t missed any sentries, the two of them crawled through the undergrowth. She ignored the roots, rocks, and slithering bugs beneath her fingers. If she could stand up to Frederick himself, surely she could handle a few insects. Still, she shuddered.
Alert, heads down, they crossed the plantation at a sloth’s pace, stopping every ten yards to check for threats. On shaky limbs, she finally made it to the clearing that backed up to a row of two-room houses crammed together like books on a shelf.
Her partner in crime looked back at her. “At my signal, run into the alley.”
She nodded her agreement and waited as the seconds ticked by. Birds squawked overhead and a fishing boat droned from the nearby bay, but the laughter of children and the slapping sounds of women washing laundry were noticeably absent.
Dan jerked his head and launched to his feet, sprinting flat-out toward a break in the small homes. Alexa followed, adrenaline spiking her blood as she bolted toward him into the narrow passageway between a red house and a weathered gray one.
He pressed his back to one wall, and she mirrored him, ears straining for shouts or pounding feet over the beating of her heart. Nothing. After several minutes of waiting, they checked each other over for spiders and millipedes, then moved onto the deserted road.
“To the right,” Alexa said in a low voice.
Her companion nodded and turned right toward the town center. The normally bustling streets looked like an abandoned movie set. Within minutes, they arrived at a shanty with peeling green paint that had been converted to a children’s home.
Blind Ambition Page 5
