Alex inhaled the smell of the Mediterranean, salt and water and the aroma of seaweed drying on the sunbaked rocks. After an hour or so he headed back past the cafe where the pretty woman still sat typing away on a laptop. He inclined his head when he caught her staring at him again. Then he adjusted his sunglasses, his fake wedding-band glinting in the sunshine.
Only one woman occupied his thoughts. Only one woman obsessed him. But maybe he was flattering himself. Maybe the beautiful, young lady was just enjoying the view. Or maybe she was the honey for some agencies’ trap.
And, yes, he was cynical. A stint in a Moroccan jail and kill lists would do that to a man.
He started walking along the wide concrete expanse of the quay, toward the huge ocean-going palaces. It was quiet except for the occasional squawk of gulls and the chatter of passersby. Ahmed Masook had been spotted on a boat belonging to an Emirati from UAE. Although not quite royal, the owner was close to some very powerful men in the Middle East. Alex walked towards the Fair Winds, curious as to what sort of security the boat might have. With the owner not in residence security might be minimal. That was the best-case scenario.
A beige Maserati convertible with black leather seats was parked beside the steps that led up onto the boat. Alex admired the car. Fast cars were a weakness of his. A young girl ran past him, hair bleached white by the sun, skin tanned as a hazelnut. Her breath was loud and sawing, as if she’d run a long way.
Taylor Masook.
She unhooked a thin chain that hung across the bottom of the steps that led up to the rear deck, darted quickly onboard.
There was no guard visible. No one was on any of the decks Alex could see.
Then angry shouts erupted and echoed off the old, stone walls of the medieval harbor. A girl shrieked. Alex tensed. A tall man with black hair and a heavy beard came into view, dragging Taylor Masook roughly by the arm across the deck.
Ahmed Masook.
Alex stared openly at the commotion along with a couple of other tourists. Ignoring it would look more suspicious.
“How many times have I told you not to leave this boat?” Masook spoke in English. “You are not to play with the local children.”
“But I was bored, Daddy! You were gone so long. Josette wasn’t here.” The girl whined, fighting her father’s grip as he pulled her toward the main stateroom.
Who is Josette?
“I told you to stay here and you defied me.” The man lost his patience and shook the child. “Do. Not. Defy. Me!”
Alex clamped down hard on the urge to rush up there and punch Masook in the nose and take Taylor straight back to her mother.
Some societies were harsher than others. Any parent would be worried if they thought their child might be in danger. Sometimes that manifested itself in shitty parenting. Alex still wanted to punch the guy in the nose.
The girl cried louder, and the man jerked the kid after him. “I should have left you at home in Dubai.”
So, he did live in the UAE. Why had Masook brought his kid here when there was an international warrant out for his arrest? Was he really that arrogant that he didn’t think he’d be caught, or did he have connections with local cops like Jane suspected?
Alex carried on walking along the pier. He’d seen the shadow of someone moving inside one of the staterooms—probably crew, possibly security. Then there was this mystery “Josette.”
Still, it didn’t seem as if lifting this child was going to be difficult. In fact, if he hung out at that coffee shop long enough, young Taylor would probably make another excursion when her daddy wasn’t looking and Alex could scoop her up off the street. Trouble was, he didn’t have time to wait around. Mallory needed him, and he wouldn’t leave her for long.
Alex stared out to sea, letting the ocean calm him. Eventually the setting sun told him it was time to head back to the small chateau he’d rented on the edge of town.
He turned and began walking back. A cherry-red Aston Martin coupe weaved in and out of the people walking along the pier, then swung into one of the parking bays opposite another massive yacht. A bulky man with a shaved head got out of the driver’s side.
“Schönes auto.” Nice car. Alex nodded to him politely. The man gave him a chin lift and then adjusted his suit jacket before heading onto a mega-yacht that looked like a mini cruise ship. The Akula. Shark. Alex knew that boat.
He kept strolling along, meandering and taking photographs of everything and anything as his mind whirled. He’d been out of the game for a long time, but he doubted Vladimir Ranich was a reformed arms dealer.
What the hell was Vlad doing here in Antibes, and was his presence related to Jane Sanders’s ex, or just a nasty coincidence?
Chapter Four
Jane stared at the small kidney-shaped swimming pool in the shady courtyard of the small chateau Alex Parker had rented. Dappled sunlight shimmered on the water, dispersed by the shade of a large weeping willow. The smell of lavender permeated the air, and the faint echo of footsteps off old, cobblestone streets danced delicately over pan tiled roofs.
It should have been idyllic and relaxing, but her fingernails bit into the tender flesh of her arms, and her teeth clamped together so fiercely pain shot through her brain. She needed to know what was happening. Had Alex found Taylor? Was Ahmed still on the yacht? Was the yacht still in Antibes?
A song thrush flitted into the garden and darted away when it spotted her standing quietly in the shadows.
Was she doing the right thing in taking a child away from her father? Would this traumatize Taylor? If so, was it worth it? Or was Jane being selfish?
What sort of woman abducted her own child? A child she loved with her whole being, but who probably didn’t remember her. Jane’s mouth went dry as the thoughts whirled in her mind. Unanswerable questions. Hopeless dilemmas.
She closed her eyes as if that would somehow eliminate her doubts and fears.
She wished she could relax, but the knowledge that her daughter could be close-by made thinking about anything else impossible. If it wasn’t for her bodyguard she’d have already gone down to the marina, hoping to catch a peek of her baby. Which was why Alex Parker had assigned her a bodyguard.
Part of her resented Alex for that, but mostly she was just so grateful he was helping her. She didn’t know why he’d changed his mind. She didn’t care. Her only other option had been going to the Gendarmerie Nationale and asking them to execute the warrant for Ahmed’s arrest. Something told her her ex-husband wouldn’t be here so openly if he didn’t have someone on the French police in his pocket. And if Ahmed discovered she was here, if he ever got his hands on her…she was a dead woman.
“Here.” A low, male voice made her jump as a glass of iced water appeared in front of her.
She hadn’t heard Jack Reilly step into the courtyard. The man moved quietly for such a big guy, not even disturbing the air around him. She took the glass from his hand. “Thank you.”
Reilly had strong features, a sharp nose and a stubborn chin. Not pretty, but handsome in a deeply masculine sort of way. So far, he’d been nothing but polite to her.
She took a sip of water, and it slid down her throat in welcome relief. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand. She hadn’t even known she was thirsty until she’d started drinking. Alcohol would have been preferable, but Reilly didn’t look like the sort who’d approve of her drinking in the daytime.
He looked like the sort of man who followed the rules and never lost control. Jane was good at control, too. Hers masked a level of grief that, when she lost it, reduced her to a pathetic crying mass of hysteria who couldn’t function in the real world. But she had to function. She had to survive and be ready to take care of Taylor as soon as she got her child back.
“You should come inside,” he said.
She bristled.
Reilly was bulkier than Alex Parker across the shoulders but shared that same dominant male vibe that set her teeth on edge and made her want to run. She me
t his steady, blue gaze. She was never running again.
“Why?” she asked.
They were alone at the small chateau, which was more a grand house than castle. The staff had left them some food, but Alex had told them their services weren’t required and to take the week off. Hopefully they wouldn’t be here that long.
She tried not to think about it, but it was possible in less than a week’s time she’d have her daughter back—or she might have lost her forever.
She’d bet on Alex Parker any day of the year. Her jaws clamped together, matching the tension in her cramped fingers. Alex was ruthlessly efficient. The scariest thing about him was that he looked so incredibly normal, like a guy you’d want to date. But Jane knew exactly how deadly he could be. Not that Mallory Rooney seemed to mind…
“It’s cooler inside,” Reilly said reasonably.
He moved as if to touch her, and she swerved to avoid him. “I stopped doing what men thought best for me years ago, Mr. Reilly. So, unless that’s a direct order, I’d rather not.”
He had lightly tanned skin, military short, dark-blond hair that glinted in the sun, and intelligent blue eyes. His expression didn’t alter at her defiant tone, but she got the impression he was trying to figure her out. He had the calm, patient look of a man used to dealing with difficult clients.
“Finish the water, Ms. Sanders. I don’t want you collapsing and having to go to the ER and risk being seen.”
Taylor was the only thing in the world that mattered to her, and Jane would never jeopardize this mission. So she drank the water, the slide of it quenching her parched throat.
Reilly reached out for the glass, and she handed it back. Their fingers brushed, and an electric shock jumped across the connection. Her eyes shot to his, and she saw his pupils flare in reaction even though the rest of his expression remained implacable. She was surprised that her body had responded that way to a man when her mind was so focused on her daughter. She hated that it betrayed her with something as basic as physical attraction.
Maybe this was why the universe had punished her. For being such a terrible mother.
Reilly shifted his stance. Clearly, he was going to stand there all day until she gave in to his commands. She didn’t like him bossing her around. She didn’t like being dominated. She didn’t like that tiny ember of attraction that had flared to life out of the cold wasteland of her heart. She needed Jack Reilly to leave her alone, and she knew exactly how to make him do it.
“Was there something else you wanted?” she asked suggestively, giving him a thorough once over.
He took a step back as she’d known he would. Jack Reilly was not the sort of guy to fool around on the job.
She moved toward him, and he retreated a second step and then stood his ground as if remembering he was the one who was armed and dangerous. Baiting him beat staring at the reflection of light on the water and wondering if her daughter would remember her. The sooner he left her alone the happier they’d both be. She ran her hand over the warm cotton of his shirt front and felt his muscles ripple in response.
He grabbed her wrist with the hand that wasn’t holding the empty glass of water. “Ms. Sanders,” he warned.
“Jane,” she insisted. He smelled warm and male and wore some tangy aftershave that teased her senses.
“What are you doing?” His eyes narrowed as he stared down at her.
“Your job is to watch my every move and make sure I don’t run down to the yacht club, correct?” She didn’t wait for an answer. She wanted to shock him into keeping his distance. “You could do that much more easily if we were both naked.”
His lips firmed in disapproval, which unexpectedly made tears prick her eyes.
Making someone hate you was easy, it just took a few bold or bitchy moves. She slowly moved her hand lower, letting her fingers drift over the front of his pants, giving him plenty of opportunity to avoid her touch. Testosterone practically oozed off him. There was no way he’d take this sort of treatment lying down.
“Why, Mr. Reilly. I do believe you think my idea has merit.” She didn’t stop stroking him, and he didn’t move away, though his eyes slitted further and his nostrils flared. The fingers around her one wrist tightened another notch.
“Ms. Sanders,” he warned again.
“Jane.” She curled her fingers around his impressive length and an ache began to throb between her thighs. The spark of desire took her by surprise. Over the years, she’d often used sex as a distraction from the ugly emptiness of her life, but she hadn’t expected to feel pleasure from this.
Reilly gently tossed the empty glass onto the nearby couch, then caught her other wrist and pulled her hand away from him.
She pouted appropriately.
“Ms. Sanders.” His blue eyes were dark now, heated, and she thought for one wild crazy moment he might kiss her. “You’re a client.” He let go of her wrists and took a step back. “I don’t have relations with clients.” He snatched up the glass and started to walk away, but not before she noticed the tented front of his pants.
“I don’t want relations, Mr. Reilly.” Her voice cracked. Embarrassed by the hint of vulnerability she’d revealed, she added, “I was just offering to let you fuck me hard against a wall.”
He stopped and looked at her over his shoulder. His eyes ran down her body with appreciation. They weren’t cold, and they weren’t full of loathing the way she’d expected them to be.
“I don’t fuck clients against the wall. I don’t fuck clients anywhere.” His voice softened. “I know you’re hurting.” Suddenly the pain in her heart caught fire. “I know you’re worried about your daughter. There are other ways to deal with those emotions.”
“I don’t want to deal with my emotions any other way,” she snarled.
He blew out a quiet breath, and his eyes crinkled. “Yeah, I got the self-destruct message loud and clear.”
She flinched and looked away as shame washed over her. It was easy to get people to hate you. Getting someone to like you was so much harder, as she knew from far too much personal experience.
“You aren’t in a good place to be making important decisions like who to have sex with, Ms. Sanders, and I cannot afford to be distracted by a beautiful woman.”
Beautiful? Her eyes shot to his, and her mouth fell open in surprise. She hadn’t thought of herself as beautiful in years. She felt ugly, scarred, and twisted. Look at how she’d handled a man kind enough to bring her a glass of water on a hot day? All because inside she was being shredded slowly through a meat grinder. He hadn’t deserved that. Jack Reilly had been nothing except professional and courteous.
God, she was pathetic.
She hadn’t always been such a bitch. There had been a time when she’d been kind, too. She’d been kind even after she’d had the crap beaten out of her on a regular basis by a man she thought had loved her. It was only after he’d stolen her child that the black rot of bitterness had seeped in. Seeped in and drowned every good thing about her.
She held Reilly’s blue gaze as she drew in a long, deep breath. “I’m sorry. I was offensive and rude, Mr. Reilly. That’s not really who I am.” She swallowed. At least it wasn’t who she wanted to be. “It won’t happen again.”
The understanding in his gaze made her want to weep. “I’m a big boy, Jane. I can deal.” He grinned, and his face transformed.
She laughed because he referred to both his maturity and the size of his erection without any other comment being necessary. A man comfortable and confident in his own skin.
“You didn’t offend me. Just gave hope to an underutilized piece of my anatomy,” he said.
She seriously doubted that. She cleared her throat. “Thank you, Mr. Reilly. I promise I won’t touch you inappropriately again.” Thank you for not taking advantage of what I so clearly offered. Thank you for distracting me. Thank you for not hating me even though I wanted you to.
“Call me Reilly, or Jack. Mr. Reilly is my father.”
&nb
sp; “Isn’t that a little familiar between bodyguard and client?” she teased softly.
He carefully adjusted the front of his pants. “It’s about as familiar as I get on the job,” he admitted. “The exception being a few minutes ago.” He glanced up at the hot sun. “Don’t be outside too long. You’re beginning to burn.”
She lifted her chin as he gave her another long look before heading inside.
It had been years since anyone had given a damn about something as simple as whether or not she burnt in the sun. She looked up at the cloudless, blue sky. She’d gotten rid of him like she’d planned, but it didn’t feel as good as she’d expected.
She didn’t deserve his kindness, but he provided it anyway. She swallowed the uncomfortable knot that formed in her throat. Even if she never saw her child again, she was going to start being the parent her daughter deserved, the sort of person a child might be proud of. Kind. Brave. Compassionate.
Her ex would not destroy her. No matter what happened he would not destroy her.
Chapter Five
When Alex got back to the chateau it was dark outside, and Jane was waiting for him in the lounge.
She stood as he came in the door. “What happened? Did you see her?”
He kept walking toward her, and she started backing up until she hit the wall. She closed her eyes, clearly bracing for a blow.
Alex stilled as he realized the truth behind Jane’s coldness.
“Jane,” he said softly, gently.
Her face crumpled as if she knew she’d revealed her secret.
It cracked something inside him to think someone had abused this woman. Her icy exterior wasn’t superiority the way he’d always supposed. It was a means of keeping the world at bay. Of keeping her pain hidden and her body safe.
A Cold Dark Promise Page 3
