Destination Wedding

by Rebecca York

  When he had disappeared, Nick bent his head to her ear. “Walk right in front of me. With any luck, we’ll make it to the jungle before the security force figures out what happened in the bedroom.”

  She nodded, then started across the patio. They were almost to the other side when a loud alarm began to ring, and floodlights snapped on.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Nick felt Camille freeze in place. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her off the hardscape and down into the vegetation.

  “What happened?” she asked in a raspy whisper from where they huddled behind some tropical shrubs.

  Nick shook his head. “You can bet nobody came into the bedroom unannounced. He must have woken up from his little nap and had some way to call for help.”

  “But you searched him before we got out of there.”

  “Yeah. Unfortunately he wasn’t carrying anything obvious like a signal device in his pocket. Maybe he had a panic button sewn into his clothing.” He snorted. “And another one in his pajamas—in case you tried to attack him.”

  “I thought about stabbing him or something. I decided I wouldn’t get out alive.”

  “Good thinking.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “Put some distance between us and the house.”

  As he finished speaking, he heard someone running across the patio and cursed under his breath.

  As the footsteps veered off to the right, he whispered, “Come on.”

  When she didn’t move, he reached for her hand and squeezed her fingers. “Now.”

  Her attention snapped back to him, and she nodded. When he crawled farther from the house, she followed.

  He stayed low until they were in deeper cover well outside the circle of illumination, then eased behind a tree and stood. When she joined him, he could feel her shaking.

  “I thought we’d done the hard part,” she murmured.

  “It’s going to be okay,” he said, the assurance automatic. He wrapped her in his arms, holding her for just a moment. She clung to him, but he knew they couldn’t stay where they were.

  When he eased away, she made a small sound of protest.

  The moon gave some light, but not enough to see well. Unfortunately, they couldn’t risk using a flashlight to make their way through the thick vegetation. He moved cautiously toward the center of the island, on the lookout for wild animals if there were any. Earlier when he’d made this crossing, he’d stayed off the trails. But both he and Camille were having trouble negotiating the wilderness in the darkness. When they came to a path going in the right direction, he knew they would make better time if they used it.

  After weighing the pros and cons of getting out of the underbrush, he said, “Stay close. We need to put distance between us and them.”

  She nodded, and he started along the narrow path, hearing her keeping pace with him.

  They had traveled another hundred yards when his next step might have been his last. Instead of coming down on solid ground, his foot broke through a thin layer of matting, and he started pitching forward into a gaping hole.

  He would have gone down into the pit below the surface of the trail, but Camille’s arm shot out, and she grabbed the back of his shirt, slowing his fall.

  She couldn’t hold him up for long, but she stopped his downward momentum, and he was able to grab the side of the pit with one hand and keep himself from tumbling in.

  She kept her fingers twisted in the back of the shirt, but he could feel the material sliding upward. Carefully he adjusted his position, bracing his right boot against the side of the hole while grabbing the edge with his left hand. When he felt more stable, he began to pull himself inch by inch back to solid ground.

  Camille was still grasping his shirt when he rolled to his side, pulling her on top of him.

  They sprawled together in a tangle of arms and legs, both breathing hard.

  “Thanks,” he whispered.

  She pressed against him, her cheek against his shoulder, and he clasped her close.

  For long moments neither of them moved.

  “What was that?” she whispered.

  “A pit trap. That must be the reason Zanov wanted you to stay out of the jungle. Not because of wild animals.

  He pulled out his flashlight, bent over the excavation, and risked a quick look into the darkness below.

  At the bottom he saw rows of sharpened stakes sticking upward, ready to pierce the flesh of anyone who tumbled into the trap. Beside him, Camille gasped when she saw them.

  “That would have. . .”

  “Been pretty nasty,” he finished her sentence.

  She was still staring downward into the darkness when he pushed himself to his feet and brushed the leaves off his clothing. Reaching for her hand, he pulled her up.

  “Someone will figure out what happened. We’d better put some distance between us and this thing. And stay off the trails.”

  “You think there are more of these?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Only on the trails?”

  “I hope so. I didn’t stumble into any when I came cross country.”

  He looked around, found a thin dead branch on a small tree and cut it off with his knife. Grasping one end, he probed the ground in front of him before taking a step.

  The precaution slowed their progress, and after about sixty steps, he decided that he’d have to take his chances.

  When he tossed the stick aside, she grabbed his arm. “Don’t you need that?”

  “It’s slowing us up too much.”

  Hoping he hadn’t made the wrong decision, he led her toward the tangle of vegetation where he’d stopped earlier, relieved when he found that the supplies he’d brought to the island were still in the bushes.

  “Is it safe to stay here?” she asked.

  “No. But I need the pack I left here, and you need to change out of that damn gown and robe.

  “Right.”

  He rummaged in his pack and pulled out clothing that was similar to his, green pants and a shirt like the guards’ uniforms, plus socks and running shoes.

  When he handed her the outfit, she stood with the garments in her hand.

  “Change your clothes,” he said, “I’ll keep guard.”

  He turned away from her, scanning the darkness as he listened to the sound of rustling behind him, imagining her taking off the robe, then the gown. She wouldn’t be naked because she’d kept on her underwear, but the dainty bra and panties didn’t hide much. He forced himself to stand with his back to her when he wanted to turn, take her in his arms, and run his hands over her silky skin, even when he knew the images chasing themselves through his head were dangerous. He had to get her off this damn island, not make love to her.

  “Okay,” she said in a breathy voice.

  He turned and saw she was still buttoning the green shirt. Their eyes locked, and he fought not to reach for her.

  “Got to stick to business,” he muttered.

  She looked like she wanted to object, or was that just his own fantasy?

  Acting on the business comment, he opened the knapsack and took out a hunting knife and a couple of tranq guns.

  When she eyed the weapons, he said, “It’s still important not to make any noise that will alert guards to our location.”

  He left the radio, his automatic rifle and some explosives inside the knapsack. The latter were a last resort, if he didn’t have any other defense against a vastly superior force.

  She eyed the heavy pack and the items he’d removed. “You swam here with all that stuff?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do I have to swim away from here?”

  “No. We were able to see the island from a satellite. And while I was looking, I found a boat we can use.”

  “How did you even know to look for me on this island? I mean, I’m sure Zanov figured nobody was going to find me.”

  “His mistake. Decorah already had a list of people your father considered enemies. Of cours
e, he and Zanov weren’t feuding, but he remembered the Big Z had asked to marry you.”

  She snorted. “The Big Z. That’s what he thinks of himself. Or maybe the King of Zanovland.”

  “Yeah, he’s quite the evil overlord. We knew he’d had some dealings with your father, and we knew his private plane had taken off from an airport near Longboat Key. So we zeroed in on this place because it was our best lead and moved a satellite into position over the island.”

  “And you saw me?”

  “We saw Zanov and a woman come outside, but we couldn’t be sure it was you. I was praying you’d look up, and you did.”

  “I remember! I’m not sure why I tipped my face up.”

  “It was like you were looking at me,” he said, unable to keep the emotion out of his voice.

  Their eyes met. She lifted her face, and he lowered his head, his lips coming down on hers for a greedy kiss that he broke off only seconds after it had begun.

  She gave him a questioning look.

  “Like I said, we can’t stay here.”

  He saw her clench and unclench her fists, and he thought she was wishing they had already gotten off the island. But her words were a surprise. “I should have told you to kill him,” she whispered. “Then we wouldn’t be in this fix.”

  He closed his hand around her arm. “That doesn’t mean the guards wouldn’t have come after us—for revenge. Even if he’s a dangerous guy to work for.”

  “Right. I saw him get angry at a gardener who spilled some mulch on the path in front of us. I thought he was going to kill the guy. Then he realized I was with him, and he got himself under control.”

  “Nice.”

  He looked through the door, making sure no one had followed them to the hut, then motioned her outside, taking them away from the house and toward the patch of underbrush where he’d hidden the boat.

  They had gotten only about fifty yards when he saw flashlight beams cutting through the foliage.

  He pulled Camille behind a palm tree, then brought his lips to her ear and whispered. “Don’t move.”

  She went still beside him, and he focused on the approaching lights, thankful that Zanov’s men weren’t using night-vision goggles. At least this way, they could see the searchers coming.

  From the beams, it looked like two men. He finally saw them emerging from the shadows, walking carefully through the brush, flashlights in one hand and weapons in the other. He was sure they would shoot him if they saw him, but what about Camille? Had the Big Z ordered her death, too? Or did he still want her alive? And what would he do if he caught her? Probably not kiss her and say all was forgiven.

  Nick put his mouth to her ear and whispered in a barely audible voice. “I’m going to disappear.” He hoped. He’d gotten so emotionally entangled in this rescue mission that he wondered if it was possible to use his talent.

  But he’d better give it a try, because it was his best option at the moment. Clearing his mind, he ordered himself into neutral mode. Long seconds passed, and he wasn’t sure if he’d succeeded until he heard Camille draw in a startled breath.

  Hopefully, it was because she couldn’t see him. But what happened when a flashlight beam hit an invisible man?

  Moving silently, he stood and stepped out from behind the tree, waiting with a tranq gun in each hand as the guards approached. As they came into easy range, he shot one in the chest. When he made a sound of surprise and crumpled, the other guy turned to him with a startled expression. But Nick had already shot the second guard, who went down beside his buddy. He crouched over them, feeling for the darts. He knew he was visible again when Camille ran to him, then eyed the two men on the ground.

  “The tranquilizers again?”

  “Yeah. Nobody’s going to come running at the sound of gunfire. The downside is that you have to reload after every shot.”

  “Why didn’t you use it on Zanov?” she asked.

  “I should have. But I thought he was out cold, and I only have limited ammunition for the tranq guns.”

  As he spoke, he pulled the needles from the men and pressed them down into the bushes, then shoved another cartridge into each gun.

  She was still staring at the two guards. “If those guys are this far into the jungle, others could be too.”

  “Unfortunately. And they’ll know we were here when they find these two.”

  As he led her toward the place where he’d left the boat, she looked back at the unconscious guards. “How long will they be out?”

  “Hours,” he answered, hoping they’d be off the island by the time the men came to.

  As they moved through the wilderness area, all his senses were on alert, but they didn’t meet any more of the security force.

  “Where does he think we’ve gone?” Camille whispered.

  “We could still be in the house, for all he knows. And an assault team could be on the way.”

  “But they’re not.”

  “I figured it was safer for you if I came in by myself. An assault on the property could have gotten you killed.”

  They continued cautiously across the island, on the lookout for wildlife as well as men.

  Ten minutes after their first encounter, he heard more guards on the move and saw two more flashlight beams. The lights moved back and forth but missed the spot where Nick and Camille were hiding behind another tree. Tense seconds ticked by as the men and the lights headed away from them.

  When the guards had passed, he started for the beach again. Ahead he could hear the slapping of surf on the sand and felt a sense of relief that they’d gotten this far. Now all he had to do was get them off this damn tropical paradise.

  He had left the boat in the underbrush, but as he approached the location, he saw it lying in plain sight at the edge of the sand. Somebody had moved it.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Nick put out his hand, stopping Camille from going any closer.

  “What?” she whispered.

  “Someone’s been here, and they could be waiting for us.”

  She drew in a sharp breath. “What are we going to do?”

  He led her into better cover, checking to make sure they hadn’t been spotted. Then he went back, moving cautiously, watching where he stepped. When he came to a trip wire, he backed up. Someone had rigged an alarm at the boat. And when he stepped over the wire and moved in closer, he saw that the hull was split.

  Nice. A disabled boat and an alarm. Had they done it before he’d announced his presence? Or were they simply taking precautions?

  Nick returned to Camille.

  “What happened?”

  “The boat’s wrecked, and someone was hoping I’d set off an alarm when I got close.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “Get the boat to come in closer.” He set down his pack and pulled out the transmitter he’d brought. But when he tried to send a message to Teddy Granada, he found it was impossible to get through.

  “Shit.”

  Camille gave him a worried look. “What’s wrong?”

  “I think Zanov’s got equipment that can block the signal. Either that or we’re very, very unlucky.”

  oOo

  On the Minerva, Teddy looked up from the communications equipment.

  “I think Nick tried to contact us.”

  “You think?” Bobby asked, his voice laced with nerves.

  “There was the start of a transmission, but it cut off before he could say anything.”

  “You think his transmitter went out?”

  “We checked it carefully before he left.”

  “It could have gotten wet.”

  “Yeah. Or Zanov has some way to jam his signal.”

  Bobby uttered a curse. “What are we going to do?”

  “There’s nothing we can do besides wait.”

  “What about going in closer?”

  “Too dangerous, unless we know Nick’s location. If Zanov fires on the ship and takes us out, Nick will have no way to get Camille ba
ck to the mainland.”

  “I thought he had a boat.”

  “He can’t row it to Florida.”

  Bobby answered with another curse, and Teddy gave him a sympathetic look. The guy knew he was a major cause of this whole fuck-up. And he was never going to forgive himself if it went south. Which looked like a definite possibility at this point, although Teddy didn’t say so.

  oOo

  When panic bloomed on Camille’s face, Nick stroked his hand over her neck and shoulders. “We’ll get out of this.”

  “How?”

  “Go to plan C,” he said, wondering what that was going to be. Like could they swim back to the Minerva? He knew he could do it, but he wasn’t going to take a chance with Camille.

  His mind scrambled for a plan. He could use his flashlight to send a Morse code message to the ship, but that would give away their location. If he did it, he’d have to be as far away as possible from Camille. That thought made his insides clench. Was leaving her out here alone his best option?

  He wanted to curse in frustration, but that wouldn’t do either one of them any good. In the distance he could see more flashlight beams. None were coming their way at the moment, but that could change quickly.

  Taking her hand, he led her slowly through the underbrush, farther from the shore, where a mound of bougainvillea had grown up, partly on top of some low bushes.

  “Wait here.”

  He felt her tense as he detached himself and pushed aside one of the woody vines.

  “Shit.”

  “What?”

  “A thorn got me.”

  “They have a lot of thorns.”

  “The good news and the bad news.”

  He got out his knife and cut the branch off, shoving it into the top of the vine. By morning, it would be wilted, but now it just looked like part of the plant.

  Stopping to clear a path through the thorns and shoving the cut branches into the mass of leaves and flowers, he wove his way in among the bushes. For several minutes, he thought he wasn’t going to find what he was looking for. Then he crawled into a place where the level of the ground cratered.

  Turning, he retraced his path, seeing Camille waiting tensely in the darkness. She gasped as he crawled out from the tangle of vegetation.