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Dane

Page 8

by AC Arthur


  “I’m just kidding,” Dane said with a smile. “Brynne says Bernard is riding her about giving him another grandchild since Keysa’s already given him Madison Lee.”

  “Still not ready to call him “dad”, huh?” Bailey asked, her tone just a little more serious this time. “It’s okay. I understand. It’s a big adjustment after all that happened.”

  Dane had folded one arm over his chest. He was looking out to the clear morning sky, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly.

  “It is an adjustment. We’re taking it slow.”

  “Hey, at least you’re giving it a chance. Both of you. I believe it’s going to work out just fine. And you know I’m not the happy ever after type.” Bailey reminded him.

  “I don’t know about that,” he’d told her. “That wedding at Basset Banks Wineries sure looked like a happy ever after for both you and Brynne.”

  Dane recalled that lovely double wedding as one of the first official Donovan family gatherings that he’d attended as an invited member of the family.

  Bailey actually sighed at those words. “That was a beautiful day.”

  It had been and at the time Dane had wondered how many more beautiful days he would have with his newfound family.

  “But that’s not what you called about,” Bailey said, sobering. “What do you need? And why does it need to be kept under wraps? Are you in some type of trouble?”

  Dane had listened to the flurry of questions in awe because he’d never had anyone ask him anything with that hint of concern in their voice.

  “I need you to do an in-depth background check on someone. I’ve done a preliminary google search but I didn’t come up with much.”

  “And you think there’s more to come up with?” she’d asked.

  Dane’s brows had drawn at her question. “Yeah, I do.” He admitted.

  “Okay, let me just grab a pen so I can take some notes.”

  A few seconds later, Bailey told him to proceed.

  Dane had given her Zera’s name and everything he knew about her, which sounded like absolutely nothing once he’d said it out loud. He would chastise himself later over getting involved with her twice without knowing a damn thing about her. At that moment, he just wanted Bailey to help him figure out what was going on.

  “Are you sleeping with her?” Bailey had asked after the run-down of information.

  He’d clenched his teeth before replying, “Yes. For the second time. I first met her here in Paris, four years ago.”

  Bailey whistled and Dane had let his head fall back as he’d inwardly groaned.

  “Reunited lovers,” she’d said. “In Paris. How totally romantic. If you’re into that kind of stuff.”

  Bailey acted as if she weren’t a romantic, but the mere fact that she’d mentioned it told Dane that she was. And her words had him once again asking what the hell he was doing.

  “Just get me a detailed report, please. And remember to keep this between us.”

  He had no idea if he should be asking her to keep a secret when they’d only been related for a short time. But he had no other place to turn. If he hired another PI firm, there would be an official record of the arrangement. And while it was a PI firm’s business to keep things private, Dane knew all too well how easily such information could serve in a blackmail or revenge plot. He wasn’t willing to put himself in the middle of that type of scenario, again.

  “No worries,” she’d said. “I’m on the job and this will remain between us. Unless you’re in danger, Dane. Then, all bets are off and I’ll do whatever is necessary to keep you safe.”

  His chest had tightened at her words and his fingers had clenched the phone in an effort to keep his escalating emotions in check.

  “I’m not in any danger, Bailey. But thanks. I appreciate your concern.”

  “You’re family. We protect our own. Don’t forget that, Dane. We’re here, all of us. All you have to do is call.”

  He’d nodded and disconnected the call with his cousin before he said something he wouldn’t be able to take back. Something that would solidify the fact that he was beginning to care a great deal about some of the members in his new family.

  That conversation had taken place seven days ago. Zera had been staying at the hotel with Dane for six nights. She was there when he woke each morning and by the time he returned late afternoon or early evening, she was still there. Dane had no idea what she did during the time he was away. All he knew—and had been totally enamored with—was how attentive and mesmerizing she was. Even with that in mind, Dane couldn’t help but think about how different things felt now with Zera.

  Four years ago she’d been like a breath of fresh air. There’d been an exuberance and energy whenever he was around her. A feeling that, together, they were unstoppable. That sounded weird, especially to a man like Dane. He was a loner, an independent success in a world which had dealt him nothing but bad turns. Then, Zera had come along and for those two months she’d opened something inside of him, something that at the time had frightened and intrigued him. Now, after all that Dane had been through, Zera was no longer a refreshing change.

  She was a burning need. Accompanied by a nagging sensation that was making Dane irritable.

  Dane slammed on the brakes to keep from crashing into the car in front of him, which had also stopped suddenly. Cursing he let his head lull back against the seat and closed his eyes. He had to get a grip. Zera was not only meeting every sexual need Dane could have possibly imagined in the time she’d been staying at the hotel with him, but she was also draining him of every ounce of concentration. As evidenced by the meeting he’d just left with Roark and Suri.

  “The resumes,” Roark had said to Dane, the look on his face full of irritation.

  “Two days ago you said you were going to review that last batch of resumes because you weren’t satisfied with any of the candidates we’d interviewed so far for the executive liaison position. And now you’re sitting here staring at that computer screen as if the candidate will magically morph from the screen to stand beside us and clinch the interview.”

  Dane had glanced across the nine-foot cherry wood dining table where they were set up in the suite, and stared at a clearly agitated Roark. The man’s thick eyebrows were drawn, the pen he’d been holding in his hand now rolling across the table where he’d tossed it during his comments. Dane wasn’t big on emotional outbursts, for any reason. He also did not like anyone raising their voice in business meetings. To him, it was never necessary. One could get their point across without needing to dominate the other through loud-speaking or dramatic gesturing.

  But, Roark was right. Dane was distracted.

  “I have narrowed it down to two candidates,” Dane had replied. He reached into a folder he’d set on the table beside his laptop when the meeting first began.

  He’d pulled out the copies of the resumes he’d made last night in the hotel’s business center and passed them to Suri and Roark. Ridge was going to the airport to pick up their Aunt Birdie. A woman whom Dane was in no particular hurry to meet.

  Dane was sure only a few moments had passed when Suri had punched him in the right shoulder. It was a surprisingly hard punch for a woman who looked as if she weighed no more than one hundred pounds soaking wet.

  She’d chuckled and said, “I think it’s a woman.”

  Dane had frowned and resisted the urge to rub his shoulder. “Both candidates are women.”

  Suri shook her head. Today’s hairstyle was thick waves, parted on the side with one huge curl dangling over her forehead. It reminded him of one of the old black and white Josephine Baker pictures that hung in the study of his San Francisco house.

  “Nope. It’s another woman who has captured your thoughts to the point that you cannot focus on business.”

  When Dane didn’t respond, Suri happily continued. “It’s not a problem, you know. Everybody meets a person that takes them to the precipice of who they were and shows them who they can ultimately be
. The real question is when do we get to meet her?”

  There was no “her” for them, or anyone else to meet. It had taken Dane half an hour to convince Suri of that and to get on with the rest of the meeting. Roark hadn’t said anything about his sister’s summation, but Dane noticed the continued questioning in the man’s gaze as he looked at him. Dane decided he didn’t care what they thought of him, or what assumptions Suri had made. They were wrapping up their business anyway. With members of the Board of Directors in place—industry professionals that both Roark and Dane had recommended—and a detailed plan for how Donovan Oilwell International would directly correlate with Donovan Oilwell UK, the Donovan Oilwell branches in the States and Imagine Energy Corporation, the start-up process was just about complete. The executive liaison would be responsible for making sure the continued correlation between all the entities went smoothly.

  Dane and Roark would be named CEOs of Donovan Oilwell International, but Roark would oversee the daily operation. Ridge would step into Roark’s previous role as CEO of Donovan Oilwell UK and Suri would take on her first official position since passing her final aptitude tests. She would serve as the official chartered accountant to the new company.

  At that point, Dane’s business in Paris would be complete. As for the relaxation portion of his trip, Dane could thank Zera for taking care of that.

  Dane was still thinking about Zera when he’d finally made it back to his hotel. He parked the car and sat for another moment staring through the windshield. Zera had turned into a big part of this trip. It was not intentional and yet, that was the truth of the matter. Which was why hearing from Bailey was so imperative.

  Zera was not the same as she had been before. There was a hint of worry and, to Dane’s dismay, fear, in her eyes. He wanted to know why, even though he had no idea what he planned to do with the information. He only knew that finding out what was going on with her was now a priority. One which he would reconcile with himself later. For now, he could not wait to get back to his room and see her again.

  “Where are you?” Aasir asked the moment Zera answered the burner phone that had been delivered to Ines two days ago.

  Dane had meetings every day which made it much easier for Zera to do the things she needed to do without him being around and possibly asking too many questions. She’d met Ines yesterday at Onze Homme, an Afropolitan boutique and café located in Little Africa, part of the 18th Arrondissement, to pick up the rest of her clothes from her apartment and the package that Aasir had sent.

  “I am safe,” she told him.

  Each evening Dane returned to the hotel at different times, so earlier today, Zera had put in an order for their food and asked the man at the front desk to call the room when Dane was on his way up and have the food delivered fifteen minutes after. That call had come just a few seconds before Aasir’s.

  Zera planned to start their evening the same way she had on the previous evenings, by asking about his day. She was always careful not to pry too deeply into Dane’s life as she did not want to risk him asking her more questions in return. He’d already asked one question that she successfully avoided. Guilt sat like a rock in her chest as Zera recalled Dane asking the real reason why she bribed someone to get into his room that first night after they’d slept together. She pretended to be asleep that night and thankfully, Dane had not pressed the issue in the morning, or any of the days following. But Zera knew he was wondering. He was too smart a man not to.

  “Safe is relative,” Aasir continued. I want to know where you are. I can send someone in to get you out,” he insisted.

  Zera had known Aasir since she was a young girl. His family lived in the suburban Nairobi area of Gigiri, just as Zera’s had. But when Zera had left to attend college in the States, Aasir had stayed. They’d kept in touch via letters, Skype calls and the one time Aasir had visited Washington, D.C. They shared a very special friendship that Zera appreciated and cherished.

  “I am still in Paris,” she finally stated because she knew he was not going to let it go.

  Zera also knew that Aasir would definitely send someone to come get her and return her to Nairobi, because despite what he’d said before, that was the only place Aasir considered Zera’s home.

  He sighed and she acknowledged his frustration.

  “You must get out of there, Zera. It is not safe for you. Not now that we know they are looking for you,” he insisted.

  “But why?” she asked. “Why are they looking for me? I have been under the radar since Emmet’s death. Making no contact with anyone from the last four years. I was out of the spotlight that Emmet had put me in. So why come for me now? What do they want?”

  “You know as well as I do that they only have two goals, more money and more death. It comes down to those two things.”

  Zera did not tell Aasir about the money she had taken from Emmet’s safe before leaving the condo that they’d shared. She also did not tell him about the agenda book she’d found in the safe as well. The one with the names and phone numbers of all of Emmet’s contacts.

  “You cannot commit the rest of your life to this. It is over now. You must come home.”

  “It is not over until Hiari is safe.”

  “She may already be dead,” Aasir said with finality.

  Zera did not respond.

  “You must accept that the possibility of that truth is there. It has been five years since she was taken. Why would they keep her alive?”

  “Money,” Zera replied. “You just said that is one of their goals. More and more money.”

  As she said those words Zera hoped with all that was within her that she was right. Hiari was only fourteen when she had been taken. Whenever Zera closed her eyes she could still see her pretty face, filled with a fresh innocence that Zera prayed had not been taken away also. She prayed that even if—no, that once she found Hiari, that her younger cousin would be able to forget these past five years and move on to live the promising life that her parents and the rest of Zera’s family had envisioned for her.

  “It is time for you to stop. You cannot do this alone.”

  “No one else will do it!” Zera yelled.

  She looked through the open bedroom door. Dane was on his way upstairs and she did not want to be on the phone when he arrived.

  “No one is looking for her. Not the President or the Minister of State Security and certainly not the United States government,” she told Aasir.

  “You know that there is much bureaucracy in these matters,” Aasir countered. “Is that not what you studied in that big fancy American school?”

  Zera rubbed the center of her forehead where a headache was brewing. She paced back and forth across the bedroom floor.

  “None of the funding that has reportedly been sent to assist with the widespread kidnappings in Africa is helping to find Hiari. They claim to be focused on shutting down the groups they have now glorified by identifying them as a Foreign Terrorist Organization, but how many of the victims are actually returned to their families? What has happened to all those girls taken throughout our country? Nobody has an answer. My family needs an answer,” she said adamantly, tears stinging her eyes and clogging her throat.

  Aasir sighed heavily. “I know what you are saying. I am still trying to help. But I cannot protect you from here. I need you to return to safety.”

  Zera heard a noise in the outer room. Dane was home. She waited only a few seconds before walking across the bedroom and into the bathroom, where she closed the door behind her.

  “I am safe. I am staying with a friend that nobody knows of. So I will be fine as soon as I finish searching for the name listed on the registration plate of the car that tried to run me down,” Zera whispered.

  “A friend? Is this friend a male or female?” Aasir asked.

  “He is an American. That is all I can say right now. Keep this phone. I will call you again soon.”

  Zera did not wait for Aasir’s response. She tucked the phone into the
back pocket of her shorts and turned on the water in the sink. She washed her hands after leaning forward to splash water onto her face. Grabbing a towel she dried her face and hands and looked into the mirror.

  Who was she? Not the idealistic young woman who had graduated from college with her law degree and eagerly stepped into a career in America. No, that smiling and ambitious person was gone. Leaving this one who lived with secrets and walked in danger. The one with a sole purpose in her life and no time to entertain anything or anyone else.

  Even the sexy and debonair Dane Donovan who was probably now at this very moment waiting on the other side of that door, wondering who the person on the other side was as well?

  Zera had no answers for him. And she had no time to think of ones that she might want to give him.

  Chapter 8

  “On Izhets. Ubey yego!”

  Misha threw back his head and emptied the glass of vodka. He slammed the glass down onto the table with a clunk, and ignored Luka even though there was merit in his brigadier’s words. The man sitting across from them wearing the expensive suit and diamonds at his ears and on his fingers, was a liar. And he should be killed for continuing to lie to Misha’s face. Men had done less and been dismembered on Misha’s orders. But this situation was unique. The stakes were higher this time. The one Misha really wanted was still free to breathe. For now, that was the priority.

  “I do not reward mistakes,” Misha said, his voice calm considering the circumstances.

  “We’ve got this under control,” the man replied.

  His name was Urod, or freak in Misha’s native Russian language. He had another name, but it was something that Misha could not pronounce and thus Misha had taken to calling the man Urod. The man answered to the name because he knew what was best for him. He also knew who put thousands of dollars in cash in his hands on a weekly basis.

  Misha stared down at his hands. There was a hangnail. He frowned. That bitch had not done a good job on his manicure. She would pay for that. Misha was very careful about his appearance. He wore only the most expensive suits, silk ties, gold and diamonds on his fingers, Italian leather shoes on his feet. His brown hair was tapered on the sides and much longer on top, but always neat. The lady he paid for a daily shave was good at her job and always kept his beard groomed. The two women who occupied his bed each night were also good at their job. Thinking about them made Misha anxious to finish his business and return to the hotel.

 

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