Dear God. Luke.
Confused and dizzy, Maggie struggled to think, to reason. Why was she being kidnapped? For ransom? Or was Paulus going to use her as a bargaining tool, demanding exemption?
She balled the damp cloth in her hand. Did it matter? Eventually her family would discover she was missing, and the king would do what he could to save her. But if she alerted her family now, Luke wouldn't stand a chance. The man she loved would be murdered.
"I'll cooperate," she said, her voice raw, her pulse pounding.
The other woman nodded, and when Maggie's mother and sisters came to check on her, she told them that she wanted to return to the beach house. Her mother tried to convince her to lie down in a guest room in the palace, but Maggie insisted on going to Dunemere. She would feel more comfortable in her own bed, she lied, and she'd already called ahead to tell Luke to expect her.
Luke, she thought. Her lover, her heart – the man they might kill.
Five minutes later Maggie went willingly with the Royal Guard, knowing the impostor was an accomplice in her kidnapping. And as she climbed into the car that was waiting to take her to an unknown destination, she prayed Luke was safe.
* * *
Luke stepped onto the boardwalk with Bruno by his side. He'd received an anonymous phone call instructing him to go to the pier. The caller had claimed that he had pertinent information regarding the Connelly case.
He stopped at the rail and faced the ocean as he had been instructed to do. His instincts told him that something was terribly wrong, and for that reason he'd brought the dog.
Death, he thought, clung to the air, like salt from the sea. He gave Bruno a command that told the dog to watch for suspicious strangers. If someone intended to plug Luke in the back, Bruno would alarm him first.
His senses keen and alert, he gazed out at the ocean, at the water that sloshed in dark, ominous waves. The 9mm he wore clipped to his belt had become an extension of his body, and on a night such as this he wouldn't hesitate to use it.
If someone was going to die, it sure as hell wasn't going to be him.
Hesitant footsteps sounded, and Bruno growled deep in his throat. The footsteps paused, and then a masculine voice came out of the night. "Call off the dog."
Not on your life, Luke thought. Giving Bruno the command to wait for further instruction, he turned to view his opponent.
The other man stood tall and thin, a long, hooded coat draping his lean form. Luke knew it was Gregor Paulus.
The edge of the pier they dominated was isolated, with streaks and shadows dancing across the boardwalk from the wind.
Luke moved closer, and both men faced each other. The glow from the lampposts cast a buttery light, making Paulus appear gaunt.
"You have information for me?" Luke asked.
"Yes." Paulus's features distorted, and Luke suspected the breeze had carried Bruno's scent to his nostrils, irritating his allergies. "Maggie Connelly has been abducted, and she won't be returned until you uncover a document proving that Rowan Neville is the Kelly crime family's Altarian contact."
The impact of Paulus's statement slammed into Luke with the force of a Mack truck. But years of covert military operations and private investigations kept him steady.
"How will I uncover this document?"
"It will be provided for you within two days. And at that time you will shift the focus of your investigation, clearing my name and framing Rowan Neville."
"What happens to Maggie?"
"You will be contacted and given the location of where you can find her. But only after you interrogate the security chief and claim that he admitted to the wrongdoings, including Miss Connelly's kidnapping." Paulus squinted and sniffed. "You will tell the Connellys that Rowan Neville panicked, fearing that you didn't believe the lies he'd told you about his children being threatened."
Luke imagined lunging at the other man and ripping his heart out, then tossing the bloodied organ into the sea, feeding the sharks. "How did you take Maggie away from her family without their knowledge?"
The royal aide detailed the abduction, pride sounding in his nasal, allergy-irritated voice. "Of course, once the family returns to Dunemere to ask you how Miss Connelly is faring from her illness, you will have to tell them that you haven't seen her. This will cause a panic, no doubt. Which means you must play your part, Mr. Starwind. The heroic lover who will go to the ends of the earth to find his woman. And put her kidnappers behind bars."
"Am I supposed to clear Rocky Palermo, too?" Luke asked, knowing that Rocky held Maggie captive somewhere.
"Yes. Although it's a known fact that Mr. Palermo is associated with the Kellys, he wasn't part of this particular operation. The hit man who aided Neville is Edwin Tefteller, the one Rafe Connelly captured in Chicago last month." He paused to dab his nose with a handkerchief. "When all of this is over, I'll resign from the royal service, and both Mr. Palermo and I will disappear quietly. You'll never hear from either one of us again."
Luke pictured Rocky's hard, brutal face. "If Maggie is harmed in any way, if that son of a bitch touches one hair on her head, I'll come after you and Palermo. And I'll torture both of you until you moan for mercy like the cowards you are."
"There's no need to get testy." The other man stepped back as Bruno growled again. "As long as you and that beast," he added, including the dog in his summary, "are willing to cooperate, Miss Connelly won't be harmed. But if you make one false move, your lovely lady is dead."
A shiver knifed Luke's spine. He knew that meant Rocky was waiting for word from Paulus on the outcome of this meeting. "I'll cooperate."
"Very well." The royal aide had the gall to smile. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you, sir. But I must return to the palace. I intend to be there when the king learns that his sister is missing. I am sure that he, like the rest of the Rosemere-Connelly family, will be devastated."
Gregor Paulus turned and walked away, but Luke knew he had to let him go. Maggie's life depended on it.
* * *
The building was dim, and the faint, scattered security lights that shone on the machinery made the hulking pieces look like monsters with ill-shaped heads and gnarled teeth.
Bound and gagged, Maggie sat on a cold concrete floor, frightened and confused. The drug made her head fuzzy, and her eyes wouldn't focus. She thought she knew where she had been taken, but she wasn't sure.
Refusing to sleep, she battled the drowsiness she'd been told to expect. How long would she be kept here? And when would Paulus make his demands?
She tried to swallow, but the gag limited the movement. Her mouth ached, and her throat felt parched. As her eyes watered, she thought about Luke. Was he being kept somewhere nearby? Had they drugged him, too? And how had they gotten past Bruno? Had they killed her dog?
Footsteps sounded, and she cringed. She saw her captor's hazy figure approach, so she closed her eyes, feigning sleep and praying that he would leave her alone. Even in her confusion, she knew who he was.
* * *
Chapter 13
«^
Luke knew exactly what he had to do.
He had to find Maggie.
Tonight.
He couldn't leave her alone and frightened, just as he couldn't betray the Connellys and allow Paulus and his accomplices to go free.
Still standing on the pier, he checked his watch. How much time did he have before another man or woman joined Rocky Palermo? Before the security on Maggie tightened? An hour? Two if he was lucky?
Because Paulus had been vain enough to detail the kidnapping, Luke figured out how many players were involved. Besides Rocky Palermo, it was possible four others had pulled this off: the attendant in the ladies' lounge, the kitchen maid who'd drugged Maggie's food, the man who'd impersonated a palace guard and the phony limo driver who'd taken her to a preconceived location – the place where Rocky would be.
Luke suspected the guard and the limo driver were the masked computer hackers Rowan Nevill
e had told him about. But he wasn't sure who the women were. He hadn't counted on females being part of Paulus's operation.
Bruno looked up at him, and he reached down to touch the dog. "I didn't keep Maggie safe," he said to the mastiff. Just as he hadn't kept Gwen safe.
As an image of his sister's kidnapping surfaced, Luke willed it away. He wouldn't let guilt distract him from this mission. Gwen was dead, but he wasn't going to lose Maggie. With Bruno's help, he would rescue her and bring her home.
Home. To his arms. His bed. His life.
Don't, he told himself. Don't fall apart. Don't slide into the despair of surviving without her, into the gut-wrenching fear that they will kill her just to spite you. He knew emotional agony would only trip him up, and he couldn't afford any mistakes.
He had to focus, not with his heart, but with his head, with the cognitive skills that made him an effective investigator, a civilian soldier.
But the only way to do that was to tap into his enemy's mind. To think like Paulus, to become him for an instant in time.
With the wind blowing and the sea crashing in black waves, Luke closed his eyes.
Gregor Paulus was a man who had chosen to hide in plain sight. He'd kidnapped Maggie from a heavily secured palace, thumbing his nose at the royal family in the process.
Where would a man like that take a captive?
Somewhere familiar. Somewhere that gave him a sense of power.
Luke opened his eyes, and suddenly he knew. The textile mill. Paulus and Cyrus Koresh, the now-deceased owner, had been comrades, and Paulus probably still had a key.
It made perfect sense. Particularly since the mill was closed for several weeks and wouldn't reopen until Koresh's brother flew in from France to sell a business he'd inherited but didn't want.
The textile mill produced a variety of goods, and that meant the building was filled with various types of machinery, including enormous looms and vats for dying yam.
Maggie could be hidden anywhere in the factory, if she was truly there at all. Luke paused at an employee entrance. He didn't have time to disengage a sophisticated alarm system, but there was a good possibility that it wasn't activated.
Taking a chance, he broke into the building. Silence greeted him, and he welcomed the sound of nothingness. Drawing his gun, he sent the dog a few paces ahead. Bruno knew Maggie's scent.
They crept through the mill, taking to the shadows. The factory seemed ominous at night, dimly lit and foreboding. A huge, circular machine that knit yam into fabric could have easily spun a web.
Bruno stopped, and Luke took heed. A bullet of adrenaline shot through his veins. Maggie was near. But so was Rocky.
In the next second he saw a figure cross their path. A man, broad and muscular, a gun in his hand.
Inhaling a steady breath, he watched Rocky pace. Back and forth. Agitated. Impatient. Waiting for reinforcements.
Dream on, you son of a bitch, Luke thought as he gave Bruno a command. Trained to kill, to protect its master at all costs, the mastiff lunged before Rocky knew what hit him.
Struck with fear, Palermo lost his weapon in the battle. And as he lay on the ground with the snarling dog's jaw attached to his neck, Luke knelt beside him.
"If you so much as bat an eyelash, my friend here is going to rip out your throat," he warned in a low, vile whisper. "So if I were you, I wouldn't move a muscle."
With that said, Luke picked up the hit man's gun and went to Maggie.
And suddenly the emotion he'd been banking flooded his system. Bound and gagged, she sat on the floor in her silk dress and pearls, tears streaming down her face.
His Maggie. His muse. Dear God, what had they done to her?
He removed the gag, and she gulped a breath. "I thought you had been captured, too," she said. "I was so afraid. That woman said they would kill you. Oh, Luke, is it really you? Please tell me I'm not dreaming."
"It's me, baby. Everything's going to be okay." He untied her wrists, and went to work on her ankles. He had to move fast, but he wanted to stop and caress her, to hold her and never let go. "One of the other men might be on his way here," he told her. "I have to call the palace and inform the king."
He made the call on his cell phone, then used the gag and ropes on Palermo, wishing he could let the dog rip him to shreds instead. With Bruno's help, he forced the muscle-bound hit man into the back seat. The mastiff took control of the prisoner, snarling in Rocky's face.
Next, Luke scooped Maggie into his arms, and she put her bead on his shoulder. She looked so pale, so tired and weak.
"They drugged me," she said.
"I know." He carried her out of the building, put her in the passenger's seat and drove directly to the hospital, where armed guards handpicked by the king would be waiting.
* * *
Maggie slept in a hospital bed while Luke kept vigil in a nearby chair. Throughout the evening, concerned family members had filtered in and out of the private room after presenting proper identification to one of the Royal Guard stationed outside Maggie's door. She would suffer no ill effects from her ordeal, at least not physically. But Luke worried about her emotional state.
He'd been given clearance to stay the night, but he'd refused the blanket the nurse had offered him. He didn't want to sleep. He wanted to be aware of Maggie, to see the rise and fall of each breath she took, to listen to the little sighs she made while she dreamed. Restless dreams, he noticed. Her subconscious mind was troubled.
The door creaked open, and Luke reached for his gun. Who would come into the room at four in the morning?
He saw the trusted guard and relaxed.
"Rafe Connelly is here. He wants to see you."
"Send him in," Luke responded.
Rafe looked exhausted. He'd stopped by a few times earlier, but now the shadows under his eyes had darkened. Luke supposed his own face was just as drawn. Adrenaline, fear and Lord only knew how many cups of vending-machine coffee weren't a healthy combination.
"How's she holding up?" Rafe asked about his youngest sister.
"Still sleeping. But that's good. The doctor said she needs the rest." Because the room was dim, illuminated by only a soft night-light, Luke squinted. But in spite of the hazy glow, he knew the circles under Rafe's eyes weren't an illusion. Nothing about this night had been conjured by sleight of hand, minors or magic. Every heart-pounding hour had been real.
"I came by to tell you that it's over." Rafe moved closer, his footsteps deliberately light. "Paulus and his team are in prison. The Royal Guard caught every last one of them."
Luke released a heavy sigh, the burden of fear lifted. They couldn't go after Maggie now. She was truly safe. "Who were the women?"
"The powder-room attendant was a member of the Kelly crime family we didn't know about, but the kitchen maid was actually a true employee with the royal service staff. She was Paulus's secret lover. They'd gone to great lengths to conceal their relationship."
"And the phony guard and limo driver were the Altarian computer hackers who'd stolen the files?"
Rafe nodded. "The limo driver told us where the rest of the CDs are being stored. He seems to think the police will go easy on him because he didn't kill anyone." A small smile tugged at his lips. "For being a technical wizard, he isn't too bright."
Luke smiled, too. And then he watched Rafe walk toward Maggie and stand beside her bed.
"My sister went willingly with the kidnappers," Rafe said, his voice barely above a whisper. "She jeopardized her own life because she thought yours was in danger."
Luke's heart clenched. "I know."
"She loves you, Starwind."
Another clench. Another emotional pull that had his heart aching. "I know that, too." And he loved her, as well. He'd been in denial all this time, but he couldn't lie to himself any longer. Maggie had been living inside him since the moment he'd danced with her at Rafe's wedding reception.
The other man met his gaze, and for a moment they stared at each oth
er. The look that passed between them said it all. The case was over. Maggie no longer required Luke's protection. What she needed from him went much deeper.
Kate slipped quietly out of the room, and Luke knew he was headed to Dunemere to be with Charlotte, his new wife.
For the next two hours, Luke resumed his vigil in the straight-back chair, and when dawn broke, Maggie stirred.
"Luke?" She said his name softly, and he went to the side of her bed.
"I'm here, baby." He smoothed a strand of hair from her cheek. She looked sleepy, but not nearly as pale as she had been earlier.
She gazed at him with blue-green eyes. "Why am I still in the hospital?"
"The doctor wanted to keep you overnight for observation. I'm sure he'll release you later today." To ease her mind, he told her that Paulus and the others had been caught. "It's over. No one is going to hurt you ever again."
"You saved me," she whispered, giving him a look so tender, it made his knees go weak.
"Bruno helped. I couldn't have done it without him."
"Can I keep him, Luke? Will his trainer sell him to me?" She adjusted her position in bed. "I can't bear to give him back."
"I'll call his trainer today." And do whatever it took to make sure Maggie and Bruno remained together.
The mist of morning streamed into the room, and Luke and Maggie sat quietly for a short time. He still had fears, insecurities that he was too old to start a family with her. She was still in grad school. A lifetime still spanned between them. He hoped and prayed that loving her was enough.
"Christmas is just a few days away," she said.
"Yeah. It really snuck up on us, didn't it?"
She smiled. "We've been kind of busy." Thoughtful, she fingered a strand of hair. "Do you think we could go back to Chicago for Christmas? I'd like to see how your mother is doing, and I need to get away from here for a little while. Just a short break before the coronation."
"Sure." He wanted to spend the holiday with her, snuggled in front of the tree he'd decorated. "I think it's snowing back home."
"Good." She smiled again, and he knew his heart would never be the same.
CHEROKEE MARRIAGE DARE Page 14
