A Cold Dark Promise (A Wedding Novella)

by Toni Anderson

  “Maybe you should let her.” It was up to her whether or not she wanted to risk her life. “And do not tell Mallory about this. Complete radio silence.”

  “What if you get sick—”

  “Especially if I get sick. She’ll fly out and swim to the boat if she has to. No way. Even if she wasn’t pregnant, no fucking way. No one tells her anything to stress her out. As far as she is concerned I’m undercover and will be back in plenty of time for the wedding.”

  “What if she asks me directly?”

  “Then you lie. Promise me, Linc.”

  “I promise. But the press might get hold of this.”

  “Don’t let them.”

  Frazer laughed. “You seem to have a high opinion of my abilities, friend. You better get those bodies off the deck and in the freezer, pronto.”

  Frazer obviously had a view of the deck, and Alex spotted the Ascension just to the north of them.

  “Good point.” Alex just smiled. “I need to check for survivors…”

  “Okay. Try not to scare the kid to death.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Alex…”

  “If you declare undying love for me I might have to shoot you.”

  Frazer laughed. “Just wanted to say thanks for trusting me with best man duties. I take my vows very seriously. I will get you to the church on time.”

  “Assuming I don’t die.”

  “Assuming you don’t die,” Frazer confirmed.

  “Just…” Alex drew a long breath in then released it. “If anything does happen to me…take care of Mallory for me.”

  “That’s a given.”

  “And that’s why you’re my best man. I’m going to need you to do something else for me…”

  “What is it?”

  “What’s your handwriting like?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  It was dawn and a slight wind ruffled her hair and raised goosebumps on her arms. Jane sat in the middle of a small inflatable dingy staring at Reilly who was escorting her out to the Fair Winds.

  He wore shorts and a soft, gray t-shirt. Frazer wanted appearances to reflect people on vacation in the south of France, not personnel protection embroiled in national security matters. The t-shirt had some sort of beer logo on the front and clung very nicely to a wall of muscle in the face of the prevailing wind.

  “What?” he asked when he caught her staring at him.

  “Nothing.”

  The Saudi billionaire wanted his yacht back, but there was the matter of bioweapons and dead arms dealers and security guards to deal with first. French naval vessels formed a distant perimeter ostensibly investigating the helicopter crash, but also keeping other boats away from the two super-yachts.

  The French had rounded up all the wannabe terrorists off the streets last night, including three Russians who’d tried to flee via the local airport when something had gone wrong with their boat’s engine. No one was admitting anything, but one of the Brits, Noah Zacharias, had a grin on his face every time the Russians were mentioned.

  The French were taking the lead on the anthrax investigation. Lincoln Frazer hadn’t liked it, but he hadn’t complained too much. Probably because Alex was currently delving into Masook’s computer with or without the French government’s permission.

  It had been six hours since Alex and Taylor had possibly been infected with anthrax, but they hadn’t become sick yet. It didn’t mean they weren’t sick, just that they weren’t sick yet. Jane was holding on to hope. It looked more and more likely that the bioweapon either wasn’t as virulent as advertised, or had been swapped out for something innocuous by the nanny who’d gotten away. Her boat had been found a few miles down the coast, but no vials. And, despite having good images of the woman and voice data, there was no record of her in any system.

  “You should wait another few hours. Just to make sure there isn’t any anthrax on that boat,” Reilly spoke just loudly enough to be heard over the small outboard motor. He hadn’t wanted her to come, but he was bringing her anyway.

  “I can’t.” Jane looked up at the clear sky and the incredible beauty of the region. If today was her last, at least she’d die with great scenery. And if today was Taylor’s last day, she wanted to hold her child in her arms, one more time, even if it meant certain death.

  The tang of salt was strong on the air. Gulls circled above them.

  Reilly maneuvered them expertly alongside the hull of the Fair Winds, grabbing one end of the ladder that extended up the side of the yacht. He tied off the boat and offered her his hand.

  She scrubbed her damp palm over her thigh before standing awkwardly, trying not to tip them.

  This might be the last time she saw him, she realized suddenly. She took his hand, warm, strong fingers curling around hers, a shock of awareness blasting through her. Not just attraction—something else. Something deeper. She blinked back tears. “I didn’t believe men like you existed,” she confessed.

  He raised a brow over those calm eyes. He opened his mouth but she cut him off.

  “Thank you. I wouldn’t have gotten through this nightmare without you looking out for me.” She wished she could have asked for more. Maybe a hug, or a farewell kiss. Despite what he’d said to her about teaching her to defend herself, she doubted she’d see him again when this was all over. He’d move on to another job, another client, and she’d—hopefully—have her hands full relearning how to be a mother.

  His lips firmed, and he nodded. “Hold on tight to the ladder as the boat moves around a bit in the swell.”

  She curled her fingers over the metal rungs and felt his hands brush the curve of her waist as he helped her start her journey. Once onboard there was no going back until the boat was cleared by the French officials.

  She hesitated. “Take care, Jack.”

  “You, too.” His fingers tightened. Alex had ordered him not to leave the inflatable and to get back to the Ascension as fast as possible. She didn’t want him exposed to danger. He’d done more than enough, bringing her over here.

  Her throat got tight with all the things she wanted to say that were not professional and far from appropriate. She gritted her teeth and started climbing, refusing to look back. It was on that long climb up the ladder she finally allowed herself to think about meeting her daughter again. The idea Taylor might die because of her actions wasn’t lost on her—except—she hadn’t been the one selling germ warfare. And the Moroccan had been the one to betray Masook, not her.

  Taylor would still have suffered even if Jane hadn’t asked Alex for help. In fact, she’d probably already be dead.

  If Taylor died…

  Jane shoved the thought out of her mind. She wouldn’t die. Jane wouldn’t allow it. She climbed what seemed to be the world’s tallest ladder and refused to think about the height. Heights and ladders were not her thing but nothing would keep her from her baby. Except, maybe fear and loathing from Taylor herself…

  Finally, Jane got to the top and a hand came over the rail to help her. Alex Parker. Who’d risked everything for a woman he didn’t even like when he was on the cusp of a wedding to his pregnant sweetheart.

  He lifted her aboard and gave a wave to Jack, still waiting at the bottom of the ladder.

  She waved too, wishing for things she couldn’t have from a man she shouldn’t want.

  Then she braced herself and looked around the deck. No sign of Taylor.

  “I didn’t tell her you were coming. In case you changed your mind.” Alex had stripped off his shirt and was wearing what looked like cutoff pants.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked him.

  His skin looked tanned and healthy except for a bandage wrapped around his one arm. There was sweat on his chest, but not the pallor of sickness. Just the gleam of hard, physical labor. She knew he’d been moving bodies so anyone doing a flyby wouldn’t see anything was amiss.

  He grinned, white teeth flashing and matching the eerie paleness of his silver eyes. “I feel good. And
Taylor seems fine, too. It doesn’t mean we’re out of the woods…”

  But it was a good sign.

  A hand came up onto the railing behind her and Jane startled. A moment later, Reilly was on deck beside them, taking everything in with a few sweeping looks.

  “I thought I told you to head back to the other yacht?” Alex said.

  Reilly put his hands on his hips. “Thought I’d take a few vacation days.”

  Alex huffed out a laugh. “On a vessel that is potentially contaminated with anthrax?”

  Reilly gave his boss a smile, and Jane’s heart sped up. “I’ve had my jabs. Anyway, I didn’t do it for you, boss. I did it for Jane. But now that I’m here you may as well put me to work. Jane and her daughter have a lot of catching up to do.”

  Jane swallowed the tightness in her throat and reached to take Reilly’s hand. He squeezed her fingers. “Thank you.”

  Alex blew out a big breath but didn’t look happy.

  “French version of the CDC will be here in the next hour. They’ll start top to bottom decontamination as well as take blood samples from each of us and give us massive doses of just-in-case antibiotics. They’ll have people autopsying the bodies in one of the big walk-in refrigerators in the galley. And they’ll be analyzing the powder directly.”

  “I’m sorry for getting you mixed up in this, Alex,” she told him.

  He looked at her. “We helped get a great many evil people off the streets last night.”

  She swallowed. “But still…”

  Alex shook his head. “Whatever guilt you’re harboring, forget it. Charles Salamander knew about Mallory.” His eyes held that light she recognized from when they’d worked together for The Gateway Project. “As soon as I discovered that, he had to die.” A cold smile curved his lips. “At least this way I got to kill him in a fair fight without fear of spending the next twenty years in prison. It’s done. Mallory’s safe, and that’s all I really care about. Go find your daughter. She’s watching TV in the main salon. No dead bodies in there.”

  Jane nodded uncertainly, and Reilly rested a hand on Alex’s shoulder as she walked away.

  It wasn’t hard to find the salon. Taylor was lying on the carpet in front of the TV. She’d fallen asleep watching a Beauty and the Beast DVD. The terror of the night before had caught up with her.

  Jane ached. She stared at the sun-streaked, blonde hair held back with a black band. Long, thin limbs sprawled, arms cradling her head.

  Was she breathing? Jane took a step forward, but suddenly Taylor’s back rose in a slow, steady motion. Jane paused in relief and swallowed. She kicked off her shoes and quietly padded across the floor. Despite being desperate to talk to her daughter, she didn’t want to wake her from a restful sleep. Jane sank to her knees and placed a gentle hand on the child’s back. Taylor didn’t waken, but she did snuggle up closer to Jane’s legs.

  Jane sent up a prayer, thanking God for allowing her this moment. Even if Taylor died, or she died, Jane felt like she’d finally come home. She glanced up and there was Reilly, staring at her through the open doorway. He smiled and she saw something in his eyes that made her blink. Admiration. And maybe something else. Something…honest. Something pure.

  Tentatively she smiled back. She didn’t know what would happen when they got off this boat, but he’d come with her on this journey at great risk to himself. Maybe he’d done it for Alex too, because she knew he had a great deal of regard for his boss. But Reilly wasn’t an impetuous man. He was strong, reliable, and understood that her priority right now was her child. He’d come anyway.

  He grinned at her, and hot tears gathered in her eyes, which she blinked quickly away. No crying was allowed. Suddenly, Taylor rolled over and opened her eyes.

  “Who are you?” she asked softly, eyes wide with wonder.

  Jane held her breath and opened her mouth. She had practiced introducing herself a thousand times, but all that preparation fell away in the moment. “I’m your mommy.”

  Taylor’s young face pinched in confusion. She’d lost all her baby roundness and had grown tall and lean. Tears had left white lines on her cheeks—she must have cried herself to sleep earlier. “Daddy said you were dead.”

  Jane reached out very slowly and moved a piece of Taylor’s hair off her cheek. “Daddy got very mad with me and wouldn’t let me see you anymore.” She asked the question that had burned a hole in her soul. “Do you remember me?”

  Taylor grabbed her hand and held on tight. “Yes, I just don’t know if you’re real or if I’m dreaming.”

  Relief hit her. “I’m real.” Those fingers wrapped around Jane’s heart and squeezed. “Your daddy made a mistake, Taylor.” Jane would save the blame for another day when their child’s grief wasn’t so fresh. “He wanted you to be with him, not me.”

  Taylor sat up. “Where were you?”

  Jane was desperate to touch, to grab hold and never let go, but she didn’t want to frighten or overwhelm Taylor. “I was looking for you. Every single day, I was looking for you.”

  Taylor wiped the back of her hand across her cheeks while Jane held her breath. Taylor launched herself against her, and Jane wrapped her arms around her baby. Jane held on so damn tight it was a wonder she didn’t suffocate the child.

  Taylor’s sobs filled the air, great bursting bouts of pure grief. Jane rocked her, rejoicing at her warmth, at the rapid heartbeat thudding against her ribs. She looked up. Reilly watched them with bright eyes. Alex stood behind him with a small smile on his lips.

  She smiled back. Funny. She wasn’t scared of him anymore.

  “Thank you,” she mouthed.

  He nodded and turned away.

  She caught Reilly’s gaze. She didn’t say anything but let her gratitude for him shine through, along with an acknowledgement of the attraction that simmered between them. She didn’t know if it would come to anything, but it was honest and pure. Not based on wealth, or the need to punish herself. It deserved a chance.

  Starting something up right now was probably the dumbest thing either of them could do, but she didn’t care. She wanted to crawl into bed with Jack Reilly and sleep in his embrace. It didn’t need to be more complicated or difficult than that. And if they survived this thing that was exactly what she intended to do.

  Chapter Twenty

  The handheld propulsion device that dragged Alex beneath the surface of the water might have been a lot more fun if he hadn’t had to share it with an ugly-ass Navy SEAL. The water was cold, and his teeth clamped hard onto his regulator so they didn’t start chattering. He caught sight of Jane holding on tight to another Navy SEAL and little Taylor was flying along with yet another. Jack was there, too.

  When French police stepped onboard in a few days’ time they’d find it empty except for the dead bodies in the refrigerator. Tests had been done, everything had come back clean. They hadn’t been exposed to anything deadlier than cornstarch.

  But the French had stood by the seven-day quarantine rule they’d imposed, and Alex refused to wait that long. He was getting married in just over thirteen hours, and the entire Atlantic stood between him and his intended. He wasn’t going to sit around here while French authorities added this arbitrary time span just because they could. If it had a scientific basis, if he’d thought there was even the slightest risk, Alex would have stayed put. But it didn’t, and he wasn’t going to get caught up in red tape or endless legal enquiries when he had promises to keep.

  The bottom scraped his knees, and the SEAL turned the submersible off as they reached shallow water. Alex popped his head above the surface and dragged off his mask. “Thanks, man.” He shook the SEAL’s hand.

  “Anytime.” The frogman grinned. “That was fun.”

  On shore, a small group of people stood staring at them. Alex spotted Frazer motioning him to move it. Alex staggered out of the surf, trying to avoid the sharp rocks with his bare feet. Frazer grabbed his arm and dragged him to a nearby car and virtually threw him into the backse
at.

  “Drive,” Frazer ordered.

  “Nice to see you, too.” Alex tried to catch his breath.

  The driver floored the engine and they shot away, fishtailing and spitting grit. Alex glanced behind them. Reilly, Jane and Taylor were being bundled into a second vehicle. Obviously, Frazer wanted to brief him alone.

  Water ran off his t-shirt and board shorts, soaking the upholstery. They sped past the rocky outcrops as the driver really booted it.

  “Think we can make it?”

  “We better,” Frazer said dryly. “Greenburg lent us his new Gulfstream G-650. It does over seven-hundred miles an hour and will get us to Virginia in nine and a half hours. That gives us an hour’s drive time when we get there.”

  Alex looked down at his attire. “I don’t have my tux.”

  “It’s all been taken care of. Some of the others went ahead yesterday and took those damned place cards with them. Why didn’t you have them printed for god’s sake?”

  “Apparently, it’s more authentic to write your own.”

  Frazer rolled his eyes. “Remind me not to hire your wedding planner.”

  Alex grinned. Frazer ignored him and carried on, “We’ll have three cars with drivers and a police escort waiting for us at Reagan National. Clothes for the wedding party should be in each of the cars. Ashley’s, yours and mine. We can change in the cars on the way.”

  Frazer took a phone call and Alex stared out the window. He had a feeling it would be a long time before he visited the region again. “Does Mallory know what happened?”

  “No.”

  “I should have told her.”

  “No.” Frazer said sharply. “You shouldn’t. You only got the one hundred percent all-clear two hours ago and we hadn’t got you off the boat yet. There was no guarantee we’d get here at all. Now we just have to navigate a few thousand miles.”

  “I promised her I wouldn’t ever lie to her again.”

  “You didn’t have a choice.”

  Alex was emotionally exhausted. “Are the French going to try to stop us?”