"Stop it." He broke in roughly. He sank to the sand and pulled her down beside him. "Rest. Go blank. All I needed was a yes or no. I didn't bring you out here to traumatize you so that you go back and have more nightmares. Irana said you were already having more than your share."
"She told you about them? Yes, of course she would. I'm sure you've had lengthy discussions about me."
"Not lengthy. And Irana would tell you every word if you asked her. She'd regard anything else as a personal betrayal."
"I believe you. She's very honest. I like her very much."
"So do I. She's been a good friend to me."
"And you to her. That hospital must have been hugely expensive."
"It only cost me money. She saved my neck. I regarded it as pay¬back. I'd say that I came out way ahead."
"You said she treated you for bullet wounds?"
He nodded. "She found me on the beach near St. Cecelia's, the hospital where she was doing her internship at the time. She wanted to take me to the hospital, but I told her that she'd be signing my death warrant. It was the truth. Banaro was right behind me, and I'd have been a sitting duck if I had let her take me up there and sedate me."
"Banaro?"
"Luis Banaro. You might call him a competitor. I'd trespassed into his territory and acquired a statue that he regarded as his property. He wanted to set an example."
"A smuggler?"
"Among other things."
"And she didn't take you to the hospital?"
"No, she took me to a cottage owned by her friend and treated me herself. Then she went back to the hospital and spoke to the Mother Superior. She told her everything. She was ordered to bring me to the hospital and report the gunshot wounds to the police." His lips twisted. "Which was the honorable and proper thing to do. But it would have meant that I'd have been dead meat. Irana refused and left the order."
"Because of you?"
"I was the catalyst. Irana swears that she'd been searching her soul for answers for years."
"You don't believe her?"
"Sometimes." He made a face. "I guess I just don't like being a cat¬alyst."
"I don't think she'd lie to you. And she's happy here." "Yes. It would be hard not to be happy here. That's why I brought you to the island."
"Because it's beautiful?"
"And because when you're choking on ugliness, you need to strike a balance."
"Does it strike a balance with you?"
"Most of the time. I thought it was worth a shot." He gazed out at the water. "We'll get started searching for Staunton soon. I know you've probably been thinking about it."
"Yes, I have."
"One more day. I have some preparations I have to make with Dardon and Irana."
She looked at him in surprise. "That's not what I expected you to say when you came to the front door growling at me."
"I didn't expect you to look like that. Irana was full of optimism, and the picture she painted wasn't the woman who met me at the door. I didn't like it. I wanted you totally normal."
"Do you think I don't? That's not realistic. I thought I could bounce back, but it's not happening. I'm taking one step at a time." She gazed directly into his eyes. "And I'm done with your pampering, Gar¬rett. I'm not going to fall apart and get us both killed. I'll take whatever I have to take."
"One more day," he repeated. He stood up and held out his hand to help her to her feet. "I'll talk to Irana tomorrow morning. Okay?"
He didn't release her hand and his grasp was warm and strong. It made her feel safe.
No, not really safe.
Strike a balance he had said. Ugliness and beauty. The feeling of be¬ing surrounded by his strength balanced against the tingling awareness of danger she always felt when she was with him. Even now, as she gazed up at him, she was conscious of the dark glitter of his eyes, the slight tension of his body.
And the heat. The same heat that had warmed her, healed her when he'd pressed his naked body to her own that night in the helicopter.
Only it wasn't the same, it was more intense, more…
She pulled her hand away and stepped back. "Okay. Not that it would do me any good to object, would it? You do what you like."
"If I did what I liked, you wouldn't be going back into that cot¬tage alone." He smiled faintly. "There's more than one way to fight off nightmares. Want to try a few?" Then he suddenly frowned. "Dammit, I didn't mean to say that."
She stiffened. And she hadn't expected him to say it, to put into words the sexual tension that was vibrating between them. It took her off guard. "Sex?" she blurted. "Is that part of the deal?"
His frown deepened. "I don't recall a deal. I made you a promise." He turned away. "And just now I made a suggestion, not a demand. I buy whores when they're selling. I don't try to make any woman into one." He looked over his shoulder, his lips taut. "But you thought about 'the deal' the minute I mentioned going to bed. Tell me, Emily, what would you have said if I'd said yes?"
She was silent a moment. "I'd do anything to make sure I got Staunton."
"Shit."
He strode off into the darkness.
Emily stood gazing after him. He was moving with an almost elec¬tric energy, his strides long and purposeful. Totally male, full of anger, full of power. She couldn't take her eyes off him. He was angry with her, and yet she had only told the truth. You wouldn't think a man as mature and clearly sexual as Garrett would have reacted in that way.
But what did she know about how he would react to anything? They were still strangers, and the bond she felt with him was as bizarre as everything else connected with their relationship. Actually, they had no real relationship. He wasn't tied to her in any way but the tenuous threads of his sympathy, his desire to help. Perhaps that was why she had jumped to that conclusion about sex. Maybe subconsciously she had wanted to tie him closer, make his reasons for helping her stronger.
Lord, she hoped that wasn't the truth. She didn't want to believe that Staunton had twisted her to that extent.
She tore her gaze from Garrett and started toward the cottage.
GARRETT WAS SWEARING BENEATH his breath with every step.
Damn, he should never have gone down to the cottage to see Emily. There had been no real reason. He could have been patient and let her come to him.
Except he didn't seem to have any patience where Emily was con¬cerned. He had wanted to see her and had blindly obeyed the impulse. He'd been clumsy from the moment she had opened the door until he'd tried to lure her into bed. Hell, half the time he was aching with sympathy, and the other half his aching had nothing to do with pity. He hadn't even known he was going to proposition her until the words had tumbled from his lips. She was still the walking wounded. It was on par with all the wild mixture of emotions he had felt for Emily from that first moment. Pity, respect, protectiveness, and now lust.
Well, they would have to work their way through it. But, dammit, he should have kept his mouth shut.
He glanced back at the beach as he reached the house.
Emily had already gone into the cottage, and her lamp was turned off. Good. He hoped one of them would get a good night's sleep. He wasn't at all sure that he would be-
His cell phone rang and he glanced at the ID display. Private number. He punched the button. "Garrett."
"How do you do, Mr. Garrett? It's a pleasure to be able to contact you. I've had to go to a good deal of trouble to track you down."
Smooth, mellow, deep voice. Australian accent.
He stiffened. "Who the hell is this?"
"Just a friend of Emily's. I'm sure she told you about me. It was a short acquaintance but very intimate." "Staunton?"
"You see, she did tell you about me. How is the sweet bitch? I can't tell you how I've missed her."
"How did you know that she was with me?"
"Well, I knew she wasn't with the CIA, so I went looking for the man who took her away from me. As I said, it was difficult. I had to sift th
rough all kinds of stories and false trails. But I'm a persistent man. I located Karif Barouk here in the mountains. He's such a good friend to you. It took a long time for me to get him to tell me who he told the location of my camp."
Garrett's hand tightened on his phone. "I understand you can be very persuasive. Is Karif still alive?"
"Yes." Staunton paused. "But he's no longer important. He was just the means to bring us together. I have a proposition for you."
"I can't wait to hear it."
"It's very simple. Turn Emily over to me, and I'll let you live." "Go to hell."
"Or don't give her to me, and I'll track you down and kill you and everyone you care about. I'll wait two days. Isn't that generous of me?"
"She's no good to you. She can't give you what you want." The call could be a trap. He'd been on the phone too long already, and he should hang up. But Staunton had Karif, and Garrett had to run the risk if he was to have even a chance of keeping Karif alive. "What's Zelov's hammer?"
"Didn't Emily tell you?"
"She doesn't know anything about it, you bastard."
"I prefer to think that she does and just won't tell me. That will make it far more satisfying. I'm very angry with Emily. Give her to me, Garrett."
"No, you son of a bitch. I believe I'll give you to her."
"Really? No, I have the edge. You and Karif must be very close. He was able to give me a surprising amount of your personal informa¬tion. I've already found out a good deal about you, Garrett. I'll find out more. Then I'll find Emily."
"No way."
"You're really a shade too cocky for my taste. I think you need tak¬ing down a peg. Now, what can I do… Oh, I know. Talk to your friend Karif. Hold on, I'm putting him on."
"Garrett?" Karif's voice was thready. "I'm sorry. I tried to-"
"It's okay, Karif. I understand."
"Run. I didn't want-I didn't think I was-that weak. I never-" "That's enough." Staunton had taken the phone again. "Talking is difficult for him. Everything is difficult for the poor bastard now." "You son of a bitch."
"Yes, I am. But I took care of ridding myself of that particular bitch years ago." He spoke in an aside to someone. "Yes, Borg? Excel¬lent. I'm going to hang up now, Garrett."
"The hell you are." Stall. Find a way out for Karif. "I want to talk to Karif again."
"Karif? I told you, he's no longer useful. Let's put him out of his misery. A knife, I think…"
"No, dammit, wait. We can-" A scream.
My God. Garrett's teeth clenched, his hand tightening on the phone.
Staunton came back on the line. "He died for you, Garrett. Not many people can claim that kind of distinction. Does it make you feel important?"
For a moment Garrett couldn't speak. Rage was searing, burning through him. "You wouldn't want to know how I'm feeling right now, Staunton. You've just made a mistake."
"Perhaps. I had to balance the possibility of angering you and the satisfaction of putting Karif down. I didn't think there was much chance of your letting me have my Emily, so I opted for killing Karif."
"You'll never have Emily. But I'll see you soon, Staunton." He hung up the phone.
Bastard.
He had to wait a moment until he could subdue the shock and anger that was tearing at him. Smother the memories of Karif and their boyhood together. Block it all out. Control it.
Yes, Borg? Excellent.
What was excellent? Garrett had an idea and he had to move quickly. There would be a time for rage and regret and revenge later.
He moved toward the door, punching Dardon's number in his phone.
Oh, yes, there would definitely be a time.
SEVEN
Istanbul, Turkey
STAUNTON WHIRLED ON BORG. "Where?"
"Greece." He stared at the computer. "An island called Mykala in the Aegean."
"Yes." Karif had told them about Mykala as well as Garrett's other homes around the world. It was only a matter of elimination.
"It will only take us a couple hours to get there. A jet to Crete, then a helicopter from there. I wasn't sure we'd be able to get that info. It must have cost you a mint to get that satellite hookup."
"Enough. But our kindly employer has deep pockets, and he won't quarrel about it. I won't let him." Nor about the jet and crew of mer¬cenaries that were waiting to go with them to find Garrett. It was a good thing. Hunting down Emily Hudson might have been relatively inexpensive, but Garrett had both means and experience. Not that Staunton was sorry that Garrett had become involved. He would be a challenge, and it had been a long time since Staunton had been stirred to stretch himself. "And while we're on our way, I want you to delve into everything concerning Garrett on that island. I want to know his friends, his property, any place where he might hide our Emily."
"No problem. I can get the basics by that time." Borg was staring down at the body of Karif Barouk. "What do we do with him?"
"Let's see, Garrett seemed to have some feeling for him. I believe we'll throw him out into the back alley for the rats to eat." He added cheerfully, "Yes, that's the ticket. I'll enjoy letting our little Emily's pro¬tector know every bit of what it's costing him." He headed for the door. "One bite at a time."
"WAKE UP."
Emily sleepily opened her eyes to see Garrett standing above her. Darkness. Tension. Power. Angel of Death.
All that danger was back and tangible. Yet she wasn't afraid…
"Come on," Garrett said impatiently as he pulled back the sheet. "We're out of here."
She was instantly awake. "What's wrong?" She sat upright in bed. "It's still-"
"It's time to move." He turned on the lamp. "I sent Dardon to tell Irana we're leaving, but I'll have to go talk to her. You get dressed and pack."
"Wait." She swung her legs to the floor. "Stop trying to bulldoze me and tell me why you're in such a hurry."
"I don't have time for explanations." He moved toward the door.
(It»
Later. "Now."
He glanced back over his shoulder. "Okay. Have it your way. We have to leave. Staunton may know where we are."
She stiffened. "What? How do you know?"
"The bastard called me. He found out that you were with me and wanted to make a deal. I told him to go to hell. But I think he may have tracked my phone, and I want you off the island before he gets here."
She shook her head. "And I want to stay. Now we won't have to go looking for him."
"I'd agree with you, but we're too vulnerable here. There are too many ways, too many people he can go after. We have to protect our backs before I go after Staunton." "Then you go, let me stay."
"Get packed." His eyes were glittering with anger, his lips tight. "I'm in no mood to argue. I'm holding on by a thread. You'll go, Irana will go, or I'll-"
"Where am I going?" Irana asked from the doorway. "You shouldn't send Dardon to do your dirty work. You knew I wouldn't listen and obey blindly."
"I was going to talk to you. I just wanted to give you a chance to start making plans. You have responsibilities."
"Yes, I do." Irana came into the room. "And that's why I'll stay. I take it you think Staunton may come to pounce? I'll help you pack, Emily."
"I'm not going."
"Not smart." She turned back to Garrett. "It's dangerous for her to be here?"
"It's dangerous for anyone I know or care about. According to Staunton." He glanced at Emily. "It wasn't you he used to get what he wanted, remember?"
How could she ever forget? "Then let's get him now. Trap him."
"After I get you and Irana off the island."
"I can't leave the hospital," Irana said. "I have responsibilities. I have patients."
"Not any longer. I told Dardon to warn you, then arrange to get them on a boat and take them to Athens." Irana's hands clenched. "You had no right."
"Tough. It's better than having them butchered. Your nurses will be with them. You can join them on the boat or come with us."
<
br /> Emily stared at him with bewilderment and anger. Garrett was taking charge, ignoring anything that Irana and Emily might say. "Maybe Irana should leave. She doesn't have anything to do with this. But I'm not going."
"The hell you're not." His hands clamped down on her shoulders, his eyes glittering down at her. "I'm not giving Staunton anything more that belongs to me. He's taken too much already."
"Let me go," she said through clenched teeth.
"I'll let you go to get dressed and pack a bag."
"Let her go, Garrett," Irana said. "Force isn't going to make her give in to you. You'd know that if you were thinking straight." She paused. "What did this Staunton take from you?"
"It doesn't matter." His hands loosened, then dropped away from Emily. "Let's just say that Staunton has managed to make this into a very personal vendetta."
"How do you know he's on his way?"
"He called me for a reason, and he kept me on the phone until he managed to track my location. I thought he might be doing it, but I couldn't hang up. He wanted me to think he was still in Afghanistan, but it could have been a trick. I'm not taking a chance."
"Why couldn't you hang up?" Emily asked. "Or did you really want to draw him here just as much as I do."
"What do you want me to say? Yes, I want him. But that's not the reason I didn't hang up. Now get dressed."
She stared at him for a moment, then turned on her heel, strode into the bathroom, and slammed the door.
She gazed at her reflection in the mirror over the sink. She didn't look afraid, she thought dully. But the fear was there, and she felt a little sick. She had noticed a difference in Garrett from the moment he woke her. The volatile sensuality she had seen in him earlier in the evening was no longer there. The sharp-edged deadliness she sensed in him had never disturbed her, but she had been aware of a rage that had not been present before. There had been an explosive aura surrounding him that had shocked her.
Something had changed.
Everything had changed. Staunton was coming. It was going to begin again.
No, it wasn't. She wouldn't let it. She had to put an end to it. She had to put an end to Staunton.
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