by Gail Barrett
But then he frowned. “What happened?” His voice was rough, abrupt, a clear warning to watch her step. She shifted her gaze to the guard standing behind him, taking in his flat eyes and stony face, the snake tattoo climbing up his thick neck. A cartel member. That tattoo had to be their sign.
She tempered her response, not wanting to tip him off. But as Rasheed’s hot black eyes devoured her, it was all she could do to keep from launching herself into his arms.
She cleared her throat. “My hands were wet, and I dropped a vase in the bathroom. I was cleaning it up when I got cut. I need to bandage the wound, maybe even suture it if I can.”
Rasheed’s gaze dropped to her arm. A crease furrowed his brow, concern shadowing his dark eyes. Then he turned to the other guard. “I’ll take her to the clinic and bring her back. It shouldn’t take long.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“That’s not necessary. I know the way.”
“My instructions are to stay with her.”
Rasheed shrugged. “Fine, but I’m telling you there’s no need.”
With one hand gripping the bloody towel, Nadine stepped outside into the night. Rasheed’s warm scent instantly swamped her, mingling with the aroma of the island’s flowers. She walked beside him down the flagstone path, attuned to his every movement, and wanting desperately to speak. But she couldn’t do that until they were alone.
Palm fronds rustled in the breeze. The heat had fallen with the setting sun, and the air sang with the calls of insects and the rhythmic pull of the sea. They followed a path leading away from the main residence, a pink coral mansion with beautiful arched porticoes and terraces brimming with flowers. But despite the lanterns marking the way, she couldn’t see much beyond the path, certainly not enough to plot her escape. The vegetation was too dense.
Instead, she sneaked a furtive glance at Rasheed. He moved with quiet strides, his obvious strength both reassuring and unbalancing her somehow. And once again, questions tumbled through her mind, that nagging curiosity about him she couldn’t quite manage to quell. Why had he started investigating her father? Why had he spent years living with terrorists, witnessing who-knew-what kind of crimes? Had it just been his job? Was he doing it out of a sense of patriotic duty? Or did he have another reason he hadn’t named? And what had caused that terrible anguish she kept seeing in his eyes, that agony he couldn’t hide?
Did it matter? She tugged her gaze away. Because frankly, despite the way he’d kissed her, despite his attempts to shield her from harm, she couldn’t weave fantasies around this man. He was here on a mission. He had a job to do. He’d made that abundantly clear. She couldn’t afford to lose focus, couldn’t afford to do anything that would endanger her safety—or his. One inadvertent slipup, one incautious glance and they both could wind up dead.
Suddenly another guard appeared on the path. In one hand he gripped a rifle, in the other a leash attached to a growling German shepherd dog. The man’s neck bore the snake tattoo.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
The guard behind them spoke up. “The clinic. The woman cut herself and needs a bandage.”
The man shifted his gaze to her. His eyes narrowed on her face, then inched over her body, his blatant sexual appraisal causing a shudder to work up her spine. But thankfully, he stepped aside. “Go ahead.”
Grateful for Rasheed’s presence, she hurried past. Maybe he couldn’t take on the entire drug cartel, but it helped having him at her side. Still, she didn’t breathe easier until they reached the clinic, a white, one-story stucco building with cement steps.
“I’ll stay here,” the guard who’d escorted them announced. He pulled out a cigarette and lit up, then leaned against the side of the building, launching puffs of smoke into the night.
Nadine went up the steps and entered the clinic. She took in the empty receptionist’s desk, the vacant chairs lined against the wall, the absolute silence pervading the room. The lights were on, but no one seemed to be around. Just past the desk was a door labeled Privado.
She motioned to Rasheed. “Back here.” Taking the lead, she entered a short, deserted hallway. She walked to the end, glancing into the empty examination rooms on either side, then passed through another door. It was a small pre-op or recovery area, complete with a chair and bed. Beyond that was the operating theater itself. Once inside, she stopped and glanced around.
She had to admit she was impressed. The room was surprisingly modern with an operating bed and lamps, an autoclave to sterilize equipment and a computer on a small, wheeled desk. A sterile supply cabinet took up one wall. On another was a built-in mass spectrometer and a status indicator for a generator.
She raised a brow. “Whoever built this knew what he was doing. They even have a backup generator.”
“They probably need it. Power goes out a lot on an island like this.”
Still skimming the room, she gave him a nod. The room was state-of-the-art—testimony to the drug cartel’s enormous wealth. If the doctor was any good, Leila would be fine.
Rasheed motioned toward her arm. “So what’s really going on?”
She met his eyes. His black hair gleamed in the harsh, artificial light, the white walls and floor tiles making the dark tone of his skin more pronounced. Trying to keep her mind off the way he made her pulse jump, she sighed. “I wanted to see the clinic. My sister-in-law, Leila, is here. Sultan’s wife. She’s having surgery tomorrow.”
“Here? What kind of surgery?” He sounded as skeptical as she felt.
“Facial reconstruction work.” She filled him in on what she’d learned. “It’s hard to say what my brother’s up to. There might not even be any surgeon.” It would be typical of him to make Leila suffer by building up her hopes and then dashing them again.
Rasheed rubbed his jaw, his eyes turning thoughtful now. “Some men just arrived from the mainland on the weekly supply boat. The doctor could be one of them.”
“If so, I’d like to find out who he is and where he studied and did his training. Not that it makes much difference. She intends to go through with the surgery no matter what. But I’d like to reassure myself. And I figured this was an excuse to see the island, to try to find a way out.”
“Yeah, about that.” He speared his hand through his damp hair. “Listen, Nadine. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you in this kind of danger. I didn’t know your brother was here.”
“I know. It’s not your fault.”
“Sure it is. I asked you to stick around. I promised I’d keep you safe. And instead, I delivered you right into your family’s hands. You’d be halfway home by now if it weren’t for me.”
“I knew there was a risk. And there’s no way you could have predicted that he’d be here. So this really isn’t your fault.”
He shook his head. “Regardless, I’ve got a plan. The supply boat leaves—”
The rapid thud of approaching footsteps cut him off. Tensing, Nadine spun toward the door as it flew open and banged against the wall. Her brother strode in, carrying a box.
He came to a halt. His eyes narrowed, his gaze skipping to Rasheed, then back. “What are you doing here?”
“I cut my arm.” She lifted it up as proof. “I was looking for some bandages and ended up in here.”
His eyes still suspicious, he walked over to the sterile storage cabinet and unlocked the door. Then he placed the box inside. “Look in the cupboard over there.”
Nodding, she opened another cupboard, and pulled out some sterile gauze. Striving for an offhand tone, she turned around. “I talked to Leila, by the way. I heard she’s having surgery tomorrow.”
Sultan shrugged. “She needs it. She’s getting ugly. Her cheeks are all caved in, so she’s having implants to fill them out.”
Nadine’s face burned. She opened her mouth, then snapped it clos
ed, biting back a nasty reply. She couldn’t afford to antagonize him if she wanted to intercede on Leila’s behalf.
“Who’s doing it?” she asked instead.
“Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters. The surgeon is important. Leila said he’s a specialist?”
He snorted. “Now where would she have gotten that idea?” He locked the supply cabinet door with a shrug. “He’s a doctor from one of the villages, that’s all. He came over on the supply boat tonight. They call him El Carnicero. The butcher.”
Her jaw dropped. She stared at her despicable brother, outrage robbing her of words. Of course he’d lied to his wife. Later he’d deny that he ever mentioned a specialist, insisting she’d imagined it. He’d even deny that the surgery was his idea. And if the operation went badly, and Leila ended up even more deformed, he’d find a way to blame it on her.
It took all Nadine’s effort to moderate her voice. “I’ll do it. I’ll do the surgery tomorrow.”
One black brow lazily rose. “You?”
“Why not? I’m a plastic surgeon. I can do a better job than some jungle quack. I take it you have the implants?”
He nodded toward the storage locker. “They’re in that container.”
“I’ll check them out. The other doctor can assist me if he wants and help with the anesthesia, but I’m taking the lead.” If nothing else she could minimize the scarring and make sure an infection didn’t set in. She shot him a pointed glance. “I assume you want your wife to survive.”
“Of course.” His lips slid into a smirk. A gleam of barely veiled triumph lit his eyes. “Be here by eight o’clock.”
He turned his attention to Rasheed. “Take her back to her room now. The evening patrols have started. The guards have their instructions—shoot first, ask questions later. I’d hate to lose you before your job is done.” He spun on his heel and left.
Nadine’s stomach seethed. She realized her hands were trembling from the effort it took to keep her anger in check. She despised that man. He deserved to be behind bars. And that’s exactly where she intended to put him, before this ordeal was done.
“You know he manipulated you into that,” Rasheed said slowly.
She pushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes. “I know.”
“Any idea why?”
She made a face. “Who knows? He likes to play mind games with people. It’s his way of controlling what they do. Maybe the idea amused him. Or maybe he intended for me to do the surgery all along. I don’t know. And honestly, I don’t care. I’m more worried about Leila and making sure she gets through this all right.”
“There’s just one problem.”
“What?”
“I met with the other agent, the one I was telling you about who’s embedded with the drug cartel. He can sneak you on board the supply boat, but it leaves at dawn. That’s the only way we can get you off the island before it’s too late.”
“But what about the investigation, the attack? I thought you needed information from me.”
“I did. I do. But having your brother here changed things. It’s too dangerous for you to stay. The supply boat leaves first thing in the morning. We need to get you aboard before then. I’m still ironing out the details, but that’s the plan.”
Undecided, she chewed her lip. She couldn’t deny that she was tempted. Rasheed was offering her the perfect way out, a chance to escape Sultan.
“But what about Leila? I can’t abandon her here.” Not to mention the innocent people who could die in the attack.
“Forget Leila.”
“And let some jungle quack massacre her face?”
Rasheed closed the distance between them. He stood directly before her, his eyes holding hers. “You’ve done what you could. You told me you tried to convince her, but she’d made her choice. You don’t owe her more than that.”
Didn’t she? “Would you leave her if you were in my place?”
He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. They both knew he’d stay.
“You still have to go,” he finally said, his voice firm.
“But—”
“For God’s sake, Nadine. Listen to me. Your life is in danger. This is your only chance to get away.”
“It’s not just because of Leila.” She dragged in a breath, needing him to understand. “She’s important, but I need to stay for myself, too. I told you. I can’t run anymore. I’ve been hiding from my family for fifteen years. You have no idea what it’s like living under a death threat—always worrying that they’ll find me, always having to run. They’re always there in the back of my mind, shadowing everything I do.
“I have to escape them, Rasheed. I have to end this thing for good, no matter how it turns out. It’s my only chance to lead a normal life. I can’t keep living like this, with this constant paranoia weighing on my mind. They’re like ghosts trapped inside my head.”
His jaw worked. His eyes darkened even more. And all of a sudden, she saw it again, that flash of remembered pain.
“You’re wrong,” he said, his voice stripped bare. “I know exactly what that’s like.”
Her heart rolled, the anguish in his voice sparking something inside her, the deep-seated need to pull this wounded man close and soothe his pain.
Instead, he turned away. Trembling, shaken by the misery he’d revealed, she gathered up several more supplies and followed him to the door. And suddenly, she was sure of one thing. Maybe this wasn’t the right time. Maybe he wasn’t ready to confide in her.
But before this ordeal was over, she intended to find out what haunted this lonely man.
Chapter 8
Nadine stepped out of the clinic late the following morning, then blinked in the brilliant sunshine, feeling vaguely disoriented after operating on her sister-in-law. Her back ached. Her leg muscles quivered from fatigue. The two-hour operation had sapped her of all her energy, the acute focus it demanded now spiraling toward a major crash. It hadn’t helped to have her brother hovering over her shoulder, watching every move—or worse, having to keep her eye on the jungle doctor so he didn’t overdose Leila with anesthesia and cause her even more harm.
Her ever-present guard emerged from the clinic’s shadow. Resigned to the constant surveillance, she massaged her gritty eyes with a sigh and started down the steps. Then she caught sight of Rasheed leaning against a palm tree beside the path, and her pulse ramped up. He straightened and padded toward her, the raw angles of his face, the power in his fluid strides causing every part of her to spring back to life.
Lord, but he was attractive. There was something about him that thoroughly demolished her senses, appealing to her in a decidedly primal way. His gaze connected with hers, the quick punch of heat generating an avalanche of sensual impressions, flashbacks of his touch and taste and smell.
He shifted his gaze to the guard. “I’m supposed to take over here. They want you to go to the airstrip and help unload a plane.”
“That’s not what I was told.”
Rasheed shrugged. “Then call them and check.”
Frowning, the guard pulled out his radio. After a brief conversation, he nodded to Rasheed and walked away.
“How did you manage that?” she asked when the guard was out of earshot.
“Lucky timing,” he said, his low-pitched voice rumbling through her chest. “A big shipment of paste is coming in, and they’re shorthanded. Since I speak English, Manzoor suggested I stay with you.”
Shaking her head at his effect on her, she walked with him down the flagstone path. Just one penetrating look, one husky word, and memories of that kiss kept swirling through her, making it impossible not to react.
“So how did the operation go?” he asked.
“Good. She’s in recovery now.”
He til
ted his head, his perceptive eyes studying her. “Are you all right? You look tired.”
“I am tired.” Although the infusion of adrenaline she’d experienced at the sight of him had given her another boost. “I always feel drained after surgery.”
His gaze held hers for another heartbeat. Then he motioned toward another path. “Come on. I know a place on the beach where we can sit and talk without being heard.”
“Are you sure?” She spotted a guard patrolling the pathway behind the clinic and frowned. “Won’t the others notice if we’re gone?”
“Not right away. I think we can spare a few minutes. And I don’t want to risk using your cottage until we sweep it for bugs.”
She hadn’t thought of that. “All right.”
“This way.” Moving quickly, he led her down an overgrown path between the trees. A bird took flight as they hurried by. A gecko ran across the dirt and darted into a patch of ferns. Nadine pushed aside a branch obstructing her way, her thoughts still lingering on Rasheed. And she had to admit that it wasn’t only his looks that appealed to her, although they definitely played a part. Every time he entered her vicinity, her composure became unhinged.
But what intrigued her even more was the fierce intelligence in his black eyes, those glimpses of inner pain, his absolute determination to stop the terrorists, no matter what the personal toll. He both fascinated and disturbed her, making her yearn to know more.
“So what did you do for Leila?” he asked as the path widened and they walked abreast again.
Not enough. Forcing her thoughts back to the surgery, she released a sigh. “I ended up using a combination implant, one that covers the malar and submalar areas.” She pointed to her face to explain. “That way I could give her cheekbones projection and correct the sunken look in her midface. I couldn’t do anything about the nerve damage, though. She needs to see a neurologist about that. But she’ll look a little better, at least for now.”
“Won’t the implants last?”
“They should. But if Sultan hits her again...” She shrugged. “All I can do is correct her physical problems. I can’t change her life.”
