by Toby Neal
Was he hoping to get back together, now that Jake was gone?
It wasn’t as if the thought hadn’t crossed her mind.
But the photo of the Master’s body had extinguished her interest once and for all. She couldn’t imagine having the hands that had stabbed another human with such ferocity on her own body.
Sophie got up and slid into the bathing suit and a light robe Kupa had hung in the closet for her. She padded down the immaculate tile hall. Being inside this house was like walking through the chambers of a nautilus: each room was white, filled with reflected light from the bay, the trees outside, and the sky overhead. Furniture was minimal, rugs nonexistent. The only sculptures were rare shells mounted on the wall, each of them artfully lighted.
Sophie entered the living room area. Tran was in the kitchen running some sort of electrical device, a jarring sound in the serenity of the mansion. “I was making you fresh passion fruit and Cherimoya juice,” Tran said. “it will cleanse your palate.”
He slid a bamboo cup of pale yellow-green juice across the breakfast bar toward her. Sophie picked it up and took a sip. Tangy and tropical, the combination was divine. “Thank you, Tran. What else are you making?”
“Fried rice with local vegetables.”
Sophie seated herself on a stool in front of the cooking island. “I can’t wait. Pregnancy has made me hungrier than usual.”
“And I’m just plain hungry,” Connor’s voice said from the doorway. He walked in, knotting a robe, and joined her on one of the stools. “Did Tran fix you his morning juice?”
“He did, and I love it.”
Tran handed Connor a bamboo cup as well. “Enjoy, Master.”
Sophie glanced at Connor. It was still strange to hear him called that, but he did not demur. He lifted the cup to his lips and drank.
“After breakfast, I was hoping to take a swim in that beautiful water. Care to join me?” Sophie asked.
“That’s why I got up early this morning—so I could clear my schedule. I was already on the satellite hook-up, checking all the Yām Khûmkạn’s business. I’m free for the rest of the day. Your pleasure is my pleasure, madame,” Connor said.
“Hearing you call me that reminds me of Raveaux. He calls me madame,” Sophie smiled.
Connor raised a brow. “That man likes you. And not as a friend.”
Sophie shook her head. “We’re colleagues. Friendly colleagues, it’s true, but nothing more. He’s even dating someone now.”
Both of Connor’s brows went up. “Is that so?”
“Heri Leede is rather fascinating. She’s British, retired from Scotland Yard. Less than five feet tall, drives a huge Cadillac, wears bright colors,” Sophie said. “She is a forensic accounting investigator.”
Connor laughed, the first humorous sound she had heard from him. “Now I’d really like to meet her.”
“Perhaps it can be arranged someday.” Sophie sipped her juice until Tran handed her a large wooden bowl. The rice filling the bowl was redolent of spices, and filled with bits of egg and sautéed vegetables. “Eat all of that,” Tran admonished. “You’re eating for two.”
“They even have that saying in the Philippines,” Connor said.
“And it’s perfectly true.” Sophie picked up her fork and dug in.
An hour or so later, Sophie and Connor made their way down the long path from the house to the bay. The Yām operatives accompanying them had secreted themselves around the area, keeping watch.
Connor had shown Sophie the surveillance cameras he’d had installed, inside and outside the house as well. If only these security measures brought more ease; but Pim Wat was better at hunting human prey than any of these men. True, there was only one of her and many of them, and this location was remote with difficult access, too.
But Sophie didn’t feel safe. She’d already told Connor that she wouldn’t bring Armita and Momi out for her custody month to stay at Pali Island until Pim Wat was captured, as tempting as the water and sand looked, and as much as she knew the toddler would enjoy it. “Until Mother is caught, I’m staying home. I’m secure in my building, and at my father’s when I’m not with Momi and Armita at Pendragon Arches.”
“I understand,” Connor said, but the shadow in his eyes only darkened.
They still weren’t even close to where they’d been as friends in the past.
The two of them came out from beneath the kamani trees, whose spreading branches and large leaves cast such effective shade. The sun-struck sand was hot, and Sophie ran to the water, untying her sarong and tossing it aside. She dove in, and swam underwater as far as she could, opening her eyes to see the lacy patterns of light against the white sand bottom, and the darting of fish. Her eyes stung from the salt water, but it was worth it.
When she came up, blowing water off her lips, Connor arose beside her at the same time, and she smiled to see how perfectly he’d matched her. They floated in deeper water off the shore, treading water. Sophie lay back, floating, and he did too.
Long moments went by. Sophie watched the clouds overhead. “This feels so good,” she said, rolling over to face him.
“I’ve missed you,” Connor said. His eyes were the color of the turquoise ocean. Such beautiful eyes. Such a beautiful man.
“I’ve missed you too,” Sophie whispered.
Connor reached for her, hooking a hand around the back of her neck to draw her up against his body. His lips met hers in a kiss.
Sophie shut her eyes, reluctant to hurt him, but it felt wrong—not just the lack of chemistry they’d had the last time they’d tried to be intimate. Now the wrongness was something visceral, something deeper.
She pulled away and dove underwater, swimming back towards the shore.
She stood up when she was waist deep, and Connor joined her a few minutes later. “I’m sorry. I had to try.”
“That part of our relationship is over, Connor. I thought about it too, but I’m not ready. It’s too soon after Jake. It’s also that—we had our chance, and we’re different now.”
His eyes were still the color of the sea around them. He was as magnetic as the Master had been. Sophie would never forget the effect of the Master in person; the hypnotic, commanding quality of his violet eyes. Connor had that same presence, now.
“You’re becoming him.” Sophie covered her mouth with her hand. “It’s frightening.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of, too.” Connor took her hand and pressed it against his chest, over his heart. “You remind me of who I was. Of my best self. Don’t stay away too long.”
He let go of her hand and walked onto the beach.
Sophie turned and swam out into the bay. She stayed in the water as long as she could, swimming laps back and forth. A little piece of her heart had broken off at what was happening to him, to them. But she didn’t want to face him, either.
Sophie finally came in when she heard a helicopter overhead, and saw it descend toward the house. She wrapped up in the sarong and made her way up the path to the mansion, still unable to detect any of the ninjas supposedly deployed around the area. Meanwhile, the chopper took off again.
Nam, dignified in a loose-fitting smock, met her outside the front door. “The Master had to return home. An emergency at the compound. He said to stay as long as you like.”
“Thank you, Nam. I can’t stay long. I only have a few more days until it’s my turn to care for Momi.”
Nam smiled. “How is our Little Bean?” He and Kupa had become attached to Sophie’s daughter through her visits to Phi Ni.
“As naughty and busy as ever, but I told Connor—the Master—that I couldn’t bring her out here until Pim Wat is captured.”
“I understand.”
Sophie tightened the sarong around her. “Will he be back?”
“I don’t think so.” Nam’s face was carefully expressionless.
“I am sorry to hear it,” Sophie said, but all she felt was relief.
Connor was a stranger now.<
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Chapter Fifty-One
Sophie
Day 32
Sophie smoothed out the Mexican blanket she had spread over the edge of the lawn just in front of the beach at Waikiki. Late afternoon had cooled the bright sunshine, and palm trees swished overhead. Armita, wearing a sleek tank suit, walked the dogs along the concrete walkway of Ala Moana park, getting them tired out so that they would settle down with Sophie and Momi.
Momi was already on her belly in the sand, making an angel shape with her arms and legs.
Sophie laughed at the sight. “Try it like this, darling.” She lay down on her back in her bathing suit, resting her head on the blanket because it would be challenging to wash the sand out of her dense curls. She swung her arms and legs up and down, and then rolled to the side so that Momi could see the shape. “See? It works a little better that way.”
Momi promptly flung herself onto her behind, and swung her arms and legs up and down. Wearing a little pink suit printed in yellow ducks with a ruffle around the waist, her daughter looked adorable.
Momi sat up and shook her head. Sand flew out of her bouncy ringlets.
Sophie admired her daughter’s sand angel and took a photo of it for Alika.
“I’m thirsty, Mama.”
Sophie reached for the zippered refrigerator bag. “I’m sure we have something in here.” She unzipped the bag, moving lunch items around until she found a nice cold apple juice with a built-in straw. “Here you go.” She handed it to her daughter.
“Bonjour.”
Sophie jerked around. Pim Wat as a threat was never far from her mind, but it was Raveaux looking down at her, crinkles around his eyes indicating a smile. He wore a pair of swim trunks and a sleeveless exercise shirt. Sun gleamed on his black hair with its silver wing.
Momi, drilled not to be friendly toward strangers, jumped up to hide behind Sophie. “Who’s that?”
“That is our friend Pierre,” Sophie said. She scrambled to her feet, taking Momi’s hand reassuringly. “Pierre, this is Momi. I’m so glad you could join us for a picnic today.”
“Hello, Momi.” Raveaux dropped down to Momi’s level. “Do you know how to fly a kite?”
Momi popped her finger into her mouth, a habit when she was unsure. She considered for a moment, glancing at her mother for guidance. Sophie nodded and smiled, and Momi tugged her finger out of her mouth. “No.”
Raveaux had a large beach bag in his hand, and he reached inside and brought out a rolled up, brightly colored tube. “Do you know what a kite is?”
“No.” Momi scowled and stuck her finger back in her mouth. She didn’t like not knowing things.
“It’s something that we fly on a string.”
Momi squatted to look as Raveaux rested the kite on the sand in front of her. “Would you like to unroll it?” Momi removed her finger from her mouth, and grabbed one edge of the kite. She shook it vigorously, and it popped open to show the shape of a butterfly. She clapped her hands with delight. “It can fly?”
“Let me show you how, and then you can do it.” Raveaux held the kite up by its midsection, unspooling a length of string wrapped in a ball around a handle. “I’m going to run, and toss the kite in the air. The wind will take it up and up, and I will hold the string like this.” He held the handle up to demonstrate.
Momi clapped her hands. “Yeah!”
Raveaux took off. Sophie was reminded of the quick grace of a mongoose as he twisted back and forth, running backward until the kite lifted. A few minutes later, the butterfly was aloft. Sophie and Momi tipped their heads back as far as they could, to watch it rise higher and higher and higher.
Momi suddenly frowned. “What if it goes away?”
Raveaux was returning, holding the handle to the ball of twine. “It can’t fly far. It’s attached to us by the string.” He held out the handle. “Would you like to hold it?”
Momi nodded, and he supported her small, chubby hands as she gripped the handle. “Hold it like this and let the string go out. When it’s time for the butterfly to come back, we’ll roll it up.” He demonstrated.
Sophie sat down on the blanket, smiling at the sight of her daughter’s rapt face. Soon, Armita returned. The nanny’s narrow features were apprehensive, but Sophie smiled to reassure her. “I told you my friend Pierre Raveaux was joining our picnic.”
“Yes, you did.” Armita fastened the dogs’ leashes to a portable pivot spike that she had driven into the ground. The nanny was of a petite and wiry build, with thick black hair she kept skimmed back in a tight braid, currently hidden under a large sun hat.
Anubis sat on his haunches, panting, and Ginger flopped herself onto the grass. Both of the dogs had their eyes fixed on Raveaux and Momi as they launched the kite again.
Armita filled the dogs’ water bowl, and then joined Sophie on the blanket. They watched Momi running, running, running, holding the ball of twine as Raveaux jogged behind her, holding the kite—and suddenly, the wind caught it and it pulled up into the sky.
“Do you think he’s safe?” Armita didn’t look at Sophie.
“Yes. I’ve asked him to be my children’s godfather,” Sophie said. “They will need male influences, and Connor is no longer available. I don’t know when I’ll be seeing him again.”
Armita inclined her head in silent assent, but her reservations were clear.
Sophie had decided some time ago that the best thing to do was not to talk about her relationships with Armita, and that seemed to be working. Armita had told Sophie that she had no use for relationships; she considered men to be babies that needed to be looked after, and she didn’t understand why Sophie would want another one.
Momi ran back towards them, holding the ball of string aloft, the kite soaring overhead. Her face was alight with joy. “It flew up! Perro made it flew up!”
“Perro?” Sophie asked.
Raveaux joined them. “I guess my name is ‘dog.’” His eyes twinkled in that almost-smile. “I hope that means she likes me.”
Sophie introduced him to Armita, and soon the four of them were eating the tasty picnic lunch Armita had packed. Later, Armita took Momi down to the water, and Sophie and Raveaux packed the food back into the bag.
Sophie raised her eyes to Raveaux’s. “Are you sure you want to do this? It’s not too late to back out. But, if we move ahead, you can’t . . . abandon them. My babies.”
Raveaux definitely smiled this time, that rare gem of an expression that transformed his face. “You don’t know what you’ve given me, inviting me to be your children’s godfather. I see so much of my daughter in Momi’s bright spirit. Knowing that I can be her honorary uncle does something to me. I have no words for it, but it’s in here.” He thumped his chest, his eyes bright. “Besides. How could I miss being called Perro?”
Sophie laughed. “Good. This baby,” Sophie patted her stomach, “baby Sean, as I’ve been calling him—will not have a father at all, and I want to make sure he has male role models. But I don’t want my children to become attached to someone I’m dating. It’s too volatile.”
Raveaux, zipping shut the refrigerator bag, stilled. “Does that mean that you would never date me?”
Sophie kept her gaze on Armita and Momi, down near the water. “I didn’t say that. I just said that your role has to be something separate. A commitment. That way, you can always be there for my children, no matter what our relationship is like.”
“Well, no need to worry, because I don’t date,” Raveaux said. “And I appreciate your making my role clear. I want only the best for all of you.”
“We would never have come this far if that wasn’t something I already knew,” Sophie said. “Want to go cool off?”
Raveaux stood up, and reached down to tug Sophie to her feet. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Turn the page for a sneak peek of Wired Revenge, Paradise Crime Thrillers book 13.
Sneak Peek
Wired Revenge, Paradise Crime Thrillers Book 13
Six months after Wired Strong
Fashion week in Paris could be deadly.
Pim Wat retrieved her name card from the brocade seat, and sat carefully on the tiny gold imitation Louis XIV chair facing the runway of the show. “Pleased to see they gave me a front row seat,” she told her companion in French, tweaking the folds of her flowing white silk pant suit so that it draped beautifully over her legs.
“Of course, they did, ma petite,” Pietro said, settling in his place beside her. “They wouldn’t dare do otherwise.”
Pim Wat didn’t contradict him. The reason for her favored status was quite different than it had been in the past, but getting a front row seat for the Dior show was always a big deal.
The long black runway, currently unlit, was surrounded by draped, ruched tulle in luxe purple. Pim Wat’s heart beat with excitement that echoed the thumping bass of the heavy techno music. How she loved her new identity!
She’d come up with it ten years before, but had not actually used it until her complete facial overhaul and departure from Thailand six months before. Fortunately, she’d had all the photos in her identification documents updated before she’d had to go on the run.
No time to dwell on that unfortunate series of events. She’d landed on her feet, as she always did. “More lives than a cat, my Beautiful One,” the Master’s voice whispered in her mind.
Thank the gods, Pietro had responded to her contact when she’d arrived in Paris. He’d helped her build that identity out into the fully-fleshed woman who sat beside him now. Pietro’s loyalty was a weathervane that swung to the highest bidder, but she’d been able to secure that from her hidden source of funds. Besides, he knew her history—and was aware that saying no to her would likely have deadly consequences.
Pim Wat adjusted the square-framed, tortoise shell glasses perched on her nose, scanning for threats. The glasses, embedded with a facial recognition program, circled each face briefly and flashed identities and employers in the upper left corner of the clear lenses. She’d learned, through many hours of practice, to be able to monitor as she looked about in a normal way. “A good crowd so far.”
