Deadly Race

by Margaret Daley

  “What does that have to do with you not having a place to stay tonight?”

  “I missed my plane.” Boat and any other mode of transportation off this island.

  “I see.”

  Knock!

  Ellie’s gaze flew to the door. She tensed, mentally readying herself for a confrontation with King Kong, or worse, both men.

  “Must be our dinner,” Slade said.

  She looked frantically around for a way to escape as Slade opened the door. She remembered the expression on Mr. Martinez’s face when he had discovered her in the hallway after his meeting with the chief of police. All she had wanted was a book to read from the library, and she had ended up running for her life. Even as a bellman wheeled a cart into the room, Ellie couldn’t shake the fear that crawled up her spine. King Kong and Godzilla were out there, probably plotting right now on how to storm the room. Come to think about it, why were they not storming the room? Who was Slade Calvert?

  After the bellman left, Slade lifted the covers from the dishes, and the aroma of the food drifted into the air, spicing it and arousing Ellie’s hunger. Her stomach rumbled.

  “Come on, Ellie. I’m sure the man who followed you gave up. Let’s eat. After dinner, I’ll call down and see if the hotel has an extra room.”

  “I’ve already tried that before I came into the bar,” she said, knowing she wouldn’t be safe if she left this room. Safety in numbers, she decided, even if the number was two.

  “And they don’t?”

  She shook her head.

  “Then we can try another hotel in the area.”

  “No, they said everything is booked up.”

  “Well, then,” he paused, thought a moment and said, “You can stay here tonight. I’m leaving tomorrow. We can work something out.”

  * * *

  Ellie sat next to him and practically attacked her food. Slade looked at her, amazed at how much she was eating. Her jump suit hid nothing, revealing a perfect figure. He was surprised to find himself curious about this woman. He couldn’t believe he was interested in her, because she certainly wasn’t anything like he was used to in his circle of friends in Boston. The lady he was currently dating, Elizabeth Hanson, was the opposite of Ellie. Elizabeth was reserved, quiet, with a hard edge to her.

  “What do you do for a living, Ellie? You said something about teaching English.”

  “I’m a governess to Mr. Martinez’s two children.”

  His mouth fell open. “You are?” Mr. Martinez was a powerful, wealthy man in Bella Isla and couldn’t see him hiring someone like Ellie.

  “I know I may not look the part, but I love children.” She took a big bite of her cake. “I just love anything chocolate. But I do limit myself to one chocolate thing a day. I have to watch my figure.”

  Along with a lot of men, Slade thought, trying to keep his gaze off that perfect figure. Was that why Mr. Martinez hired Ellie. He’d heard rumors about the type of man he was. He clenched his hand around his fork. “I can call Mr. Martinez. I’m sure he is worried about you.”

  “No!” Her chest rose and fell rapidly. “My last day with him was yesterday. I can’t bother him.”

  “Did he bother you?”

  Her eyes grew round. “What makes you say that?”

  “Just a hunch.”

  “He did make it clear he was interested in me.” She locked gazes with him. “But I am not interested in him.” She ate some more cake. “Men are so lucky.”

  “Why so?”

  “They don’t have to worry about their figures like women do.”

  “A man can be just as obsessed with a good figure.” How had they gone from talking about Mr. Martinez to a woman’s figure?

  “Yeah, but it’s the woman’s he’s obsessed with,” Ellie said with a throaty laugh.

  Slade chuckled, liking the sound of her laugh. “You’ve got me there.”

  “I found girl-watching was still a national pastime here in Bella Isla.”

  “It hasn’t lost its appeal back home, either.”

  A tiny frown furrowed her brow. “Speaking of back home, how in the world am I going to get home?”

  “We have room for one more on my company’s plane for tomorrow morning,” he said before he realized he was committing himself to caring for her beyond the night. But her helpless vulnerability made a man want to protect her. If he wasn’t here to help her, no telling where she would end up.

  “You mean you’ll take me back to the States?”

  “Sure. I’m going to Boston.”

  “Thank you again.” Impulsively she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek. She started to pull away when his arms encircled her and his smoldering gaze roped hers.

  “You’re welcome,” he murmured, his eyelids drifting half closed as his gaze lowered to her lips. He raised his hand to her face, marveling at its perfection. As he had stated, she wasn’t his type, and yet he felt himself drawn to her and didn’t understand why.

  When he reestablished eye contact with her, he rubbed his thumb across her lower lip, then traced the outline of her mouth, a soft brush that sent shivers down the length of her. Slowly he brought her toward him, giving her time to pull away if she wanted to

  * * *

  Ellie remained motionless in his arms, her eyelids sliding closed. His lips brushed across hers so gently at first she wondered if she was imagining herself in his embrace. Then his mouth fastened onto hers, and she knew she was being held, being kissed—expertly, thoroughly.

  She forgot why she was there and let herself feel, to give in to the sweet sensations his kiss was producing within her. She felt an irresistible tug toward him and didn’t understand why. She never threw herself at any man. It had to be the situation she was thrust into the middle of. He was her way out of Bella Isla, and she felt a connection to him because of that. Nothing more.

  As he began to nibble a path down her neck, her eyes opened slightly, and she saw the bed behind him. Her position came crashing down on her, and she drew back, her hands flat against his chest to hold him away from her. Suddenly she didn’t trust herself if he tried to kiss her again. Of course, it had to be the life and death situation she found herself in that generated these feelings that was like nothing she had ever experienced before. She had to squash them.

  His heavily veiled look encompassed her whole face and made her feel as though he was continuing his kiss in his mind. Her common sense wavered in its determination to put an end to their kiss. She had to do something fast or she would be lost.

  “Wow! You certainly know how to kiss.” She forced herself away; she forced a light, carefree tone into her voice when she felt neither.

  He smiled, a positively sexy smile. “You aren’t too bad yourself.” He liked her honesty. He had found very little of that in his life. It was refreshing.

  “Well, I have to tell you right up front I’m not that type of girl.”

  “What type?” He thought he knew what she meant, but with her he needed to ask to make sure.

  “Who sleeps around.”

  “I understand.”

  “Oh, good. I was worried you got the wrong impression of me because of my little situation.”

  Slade busied himself by wheeling the cart just outside the door. He checked the hallway to make sure the man Ellie had told him about wasn’t lingering around. If the truth be known, he needed some time to cool down. Ellie appealed to him. He couldn’t deny he wanted her. He normally was very reserved, especially in relationships with women. With Elizabeth it had never been a problem. He knew she liked going out with him because of the people she met in his company. He understood that and accepted it, because she kept the other women at bay.

  When he came back into the room, Ellie was sitting in a chair, staring at the bed, worry lining her face. “Tell you what, I’ll sleep on the floor.”

  Ellie grimaced. “I hate to throw you out of your own bed.”

  “That’s okay.”

  “N
o. I insist on sleeping on the floor. This is your room, and the least I can do.”

  “I can’t believe we’re arguing over who gets the privilege of sleeping on a hard floor.”

  “We are two adults. Surely we can sleep in the same bed without any—” she blushed, “any hanky-panky.”

  “That is a solution,” he replied, noting the rosy hue of her cheeks heightened her beauty.

  “Which side?”

  “Which side?” Slade asked, puzzled, still thinking about how beautiful she was.

  “Of the bed do you want? I can sleep on either side, but I know some people can’t.”

  “The right, I guess.”

  “May I use your bathroom?”

  “You don’t need to ask.”

  “This is your—”

  “My room,” he finished. “I think we have established that fact.”

  She breezed past him toward the only door that could possibly be a bathroom. He stared after her, his head beginning to throb. It was hard to keep up with Ellie Winters. She flitted from one thing to another like a butterfly to different flowers. Exhaling heavily, he started to loosen his tie.

  He still couldn’t believe he had offered to let her ride on his company jet tomorrow. He hardly knew her, and yet he suddenly felt responsible for her, to the extent he was allowing her to share his room.

  That thought amazed him because he avoided relationships that demanded more of him than a casual acquaintance. That was why he and Elizabeth got along so well. He had no time in his life for much of anything but his company, which he had determined years ago would be the best in its field.

  * * *

  Ellie leaned into the vanity, staring at herself in the mirror, trying to control her trembling. She had practically begged the man to sleep in the same bed as she. What had gotten in to her, especially after that kiss? He was satisfied to sleep on the floor. Why didn’t she let it go at that? She was playing Russian roulette with all six chambers loaded. Must be the heat in this country, she decided as she ran a cold washcloth over her hot cheeks.

  When Ellie finally composed herself, she came out of the bathroom to find Slade dressed only in his dark slacks, sitting in a chair, nursing a glass of club soda with a twist of lime. Just as she suspected, this man was in superb physical shape, with hard muscles rippling beneath a broad chest.

  “Would you like something to drink?” he asked, indicating a refrigerator. When she shook her head, he smiled crookedly. “Sorry. All I have is club soda and coffee.”

  His grin sent her heartbeat galloping. Forcing herself to look away from that bare, broad chest, she started for the bed, intending to sleep in her jump suit on top of the covers, as close to the edge as possible.

  “Are you going to sleep in your clothes?”

  She tensed. Had he just been waiting to make his move when they were in bed? Was he like every other man she had met? Granted she hadn’t discouraged him, and she realized she was having a tough enough time fighting off her own attraction. “Yes, that’s all I have.”

  “Where’s your luggage?”

  That was a good question. Think fast. “On the plane I missed.”

  “What’s it doing there?”

  She definitely was digging a deeper and deeper hole. At the rate she was going she would be clear to China soon. But she was afraid to tell this man the kind of trouble she was really in. She would when they were safely in the air, and they could have a good laugh over it. “I thought my plane left at ten in the morning, but it really left at six in the evening. I went hurrying out to the airport only to find I would have to wait hours. So, I decided to check my luggage in and go to the marketplace and shop some more. I just hate waiting at airports. It seemed the logical thing to do.” Her words, part truth, came out in a breathless rush.

  He went to the dresser, opened a drawer and tossed her the top of a pair of pajamas. “Thankfully, Albert packed these for me. If that’s the only outfit you have, you don’t want to sleep in it.”

  “Albert?”

  “My butler.”

  “You have a butler? Just how rich are you?” The second she asked the question she wished she could take it back. So often she spoke her mind without really thinking through what she was going to say. But after Mr. Martinez, she was leery of rich men who thought they could do what they wanted and no one would say anything. My goodness, her former employer was planning a revolution, which she would tell someone about the minute she left Bella Isla soil.

  “I make a decent living, with a little change left over.”

  Ellie clutched the silk pajama top in her hands, the feel of the material deliciously soft. Whether he had ever worn the top or not, she could imagine him in it. She had a most vivid imagination. Her pulse sped up. She quickly escaped back into the bathroom and eyed the tub. Maybe she could sleep comfortably in it. But after not sleeping the night before, because she was climbing out of a window and fleeing the villa, she knew she had to get some rest this evening. If that were possible in the same bed as Slade Calvert. At least it was a king size one.

  After dressing, she again faced her mirror image. She needed to give herself another talking to. The last one obviously hadn’t done much good. It wasn’t Slade Calvert she was worried about anymore and not even the two goons or Mr. Martinez. It was herself. Her reaction to this man was so out of character. She had learned long ago to be cautious. Where was it now?

  For the second time she entered the bedroom, but this time the lights were out, and Slade was already in bed. She slid between the sheets, relishing their coolness, and started to turn her back on him.

  “Good night, Ellie. Don’t worry about anything.”

  His husky voice was tantalizingly seductive, and she found herself waiting to melt into him, to seek the protection she needed to get out of this country in one piece. “Good night, Slade.” She clutched her side of the mattress, hoping she didn’t fall out of bed during the night. But there was no way she would move from the edge.

  For a long time she tried to ignore the sound of Slade’s even breathing that indicated he at least was sleeping. She tried to concentrate instead on the night sounds. King Kong and Godzilla hadn’t approached her since they had picked up her trail. They had just followed her, keeping an eye on her. Possibly, Mr. Martinez believed her when she had said she hadn’t overheard anything between him and the police chief. She would feel a little bit better about that conjecture, if the man hadn’t immediately proceeded to lock her in her bedroom the night before. She had panicked when she had tried her door and couldn’t leave. That fact, coupled with Mr. Martinez’s growing fascination with her, had caused Ellie to give her resignation in a most unorthodox way, by climbing out of her bedroom window.

  Everything would be all right in the light of day, she reassured herself. She wasn’t worth all of this trouble, and Mr. Martinez would come to that conclusion, if he hadn’t already. Finally, exhaustion took complete hold, and Ellie fell asleep, clinging to her side of the bed.

  * * *

  Ring!

  Slade snatched up the receiver, not even bothering to turn on the light. “Calvert here,” he clipped out, vividly aware of Ellie curled up against him.

  “It’s started earlier than we thought. We’ve got to get out of here. President Alvarez was taken prisoner an hour ago,” Slade’s manager in Bella Isla said.

  “What time is it?”

  “Five. A friend just called me and told me to get everyone out to the airport. I called your pilot. Joe figures we have a few hours before they move to close the airport and they may not be friendly.”

  “Have you informed the others?”

  “I will.”

  “Fine. I’ll be there with another passenger. Tell Joe to leave if he has to, whether everyone is there or not.”

  “Including you?”

  “Yes.” Slade replaced the receiver and twisted toward Ellie.

  Her soft body cuddled against his momentarily made him forget the urgency of the situa
tion. He ran his hand down her arm, clasping it and pulling her even nearer, his face inches from hers. He could almost taste her on his lips.

  “What’s wrong?” she murmured and snuggled closer to his warmth.

  Her question sobered him to their situation, pushing all thoughts of kissing her to the back of his mind. He released her. “President Alvarez was taken prisoner. The revolution has started early. We’ve got to get out now.”

  Ellie came fully awake with a start. “Give me two minutes to get dressed.” She started to climb from the bed when the sound of something being inserted into the lock riveted her attention to the door.

  CHAPTER 2

  Ellie had to do something! She couldn’t let those two goons get her. Without really thinking any plan through, she started off the bed, a dim light slanting through a slit in the curtains. Slade grabbed her and hauled her back against him.

  “Shh,” he said in a barely audible voice, placing his finger briefly over her mouth to still any protest. “Lie back down.”

  Then stealthily, he moved across the room toward the door and positioned himself behind it as it was being eased open, inch by slow inch. Ellie quickly lay down, pretending sleep, while her chest ached as if someone were sitting on top of her.

  With her breath held, she stared through the narrow slits of her eyelids at the figure sneaking into the room. By the faint light from the hallway, she could tell it was King Kong.

  All her instincts rebelled against lying on the bed, doing nothing to protect herself. She didn’t even know if Slade Calvert was capable of defending himself, let alone her. Then she remembered the element of danger he had exuded earlier, the feel of his muscles beneath her palms, and some of the tension unfurled within her. She would be all right.

  King Kong stepped completely into the room, closing the door quietly behind him. With lightning speed Slade struck the man from behind with a vase. As the intruder went down with a thud, he dropped what was in his hand and it went skidding across the floor. Slade flipped on the overhead light.

  Ellie shot off the bed, her heartbeat thundering so loudly she was sure it drowned out all other sounds. “It’s a gun!” She pointed to the offending weapon at her feet, her eyes round as she backed away from it. This kind of scene was played on television or in the movies, not in real life, at least not in hers.