by Jill Shalvis
as happy to be alone on this little adventure, and given what a pain in his ass she’d been, he’d have liked nothing more than to let her be.
Except for one thing. Several, actually.
He could feel her nerves just beneath her cool surface, not to mention her fear.
And then there was the fact that he couldn’t stand the thought of walking away from her, danger or not.
As a result, he was sticking to her like super glue.
Holding the handrail for support, she came down the stairs in rain coming down in sheets. A gust of wind blew the hood from her face, revealing how pale and wan she was, and looking just vulnerable enough to sucker punch him with her eyes alone.
It was stupid, asinine even, but suddenly, he wanted to hug her, baby her, which would have been as smart to his physical well-being as babying a spitting cobra. Wrapping his fingers around her arm, he guided her quickly down the last step.
“Thank you.” She surprised him by not pulling away. Her hair blew in his face, her scent coming to him on the wind as the rain pounded both them and the tarmac, sounding like a pack of angry bees. She slid her hood back over her head as together, they ran across the tarmac.
Just inside the small metal hangar that served as the private sector of the airport, they shook off some of the rain and looked around. There was a single wood desk, behind which sat a mountain of a man smoking a cigar and eating a sub sandwich at the same time, all while gabbing on a telephone about some “fucking Cessna.” Above them, the rain pounded the metal building, making it shudder and moan.
When the man hung up the phone, Maddie walked up to him. “Have you seen me already tonight?” she asked.
The guy blinked. “Huh?”
“Have you seen anyone who looks just like me come through here tonight?”
The guy took her in from top to bottom. “Lady, I’ve never seen anyone like you before. You’re hot.”
“Okay, thanks for that,” Brody said dryly, pulling Maddie away from the desk.
There were several couches for waiting purposes, and beyond that, a vending machine stocked the usual heart attack–inducing items. Brody headed directly for it, taking Maddie with him. “Name your poison.”
She curled her upper lip. “From there? No, thanks.”
He pulled some change from his pocket. “You’re a food snob.”
“Yes.” She eyed him as he bought himself three milk chocolate bars. “Seriously, where do you put all that crap?”
He patted his stomach, and she let out a low, disagreeing snort.
“And what does that mean?” he asked, wondering if he’d just been insulted.
“Like you don’t know that in spite of your hideous junk food habit, you have the best abs on this side of the equator.”
Uh, no, he hadn’t known that, but that she thought so made him grin like an idiot. “What about the other side of the equator?”
“Shut up, Brody. You inherited good genes, and you know it.”
He didn’t know how to tell her that the only thing he’d inherited was his mean gene. Oh, and his pickpocket abilities, which he’d honed as a youth. Yeah, that had come in handy. Thanks, dear Dad.
“Someday, you’ll be old with a big belly,” she said. “One that flops over your belt.”
“Flops over my belt?” Now there was a disturbing image.
“I’m just saying, you’d better watch the chocolate. It’s going to sneak up on you.”
“Maybe I burn it off trying to help people.”
“People who didn’t want your help,” she reminded him. Turning away, she walked toward the front desk, but Brody hooked her good arm and brought her back around.
“What?”
“Where to?” he asked.
Her eyes flickered, and she pulled her hood back up, hiding from him, goddamnit. “Getting a cab.”
“To . . . ?” he inquired.
“About that. I’ve been thinking.”
“Shit.” He bent down a little to see beneath the hood and looked her right in the eyes. “Save your time. You said we’re a unit, and we’re a damn unit.”
“Until this is over.”
“Damn A straight. So give me some more details.”
“Okay.” She shook her head as if she couldn’t believe she was doing this. “I told you, I need to stop my sister from doing something stupid.”
“Like making that nine o’clock meeting on Stone Cay.”
“Right. But I didn’t tell you that it might get ugly.”
“I’ve seen ugly before.” At the doubt on her face, he arched a brow. “We’re a unit, remember?”
“Only until we’re back in the real world.” She pointed a finger to the middle of his chest. “You remember that.”
“Finally. We’re on the same page.”
“Why is this so important to you anyway?”
Hell of a question, one he didn’t have a real answer for, at least none that he liked. “Because it’s important to you. Now let’s go.”
“Brody—”
“Don’t argue with your husband, woman.”
“Oh, my God, stop saying that!”
He rented a car and got them on the road in the blackest, stormiest night he’d seen in a good, long while. Through the headlights and straining windshield wipers, they could see nothing but the slicked road lined with palms still nearly bent in half in the wind. “Anytime now, you’re going to be happy I’m here.”
She snorted.
He downshifted the piece-of-shit car and managed to keep them on the crazy road. “I’m serious.”
“Okay, I’ll let you know when I’m happy to have you here.”
“You do that,” he said grimly and outsteered a fucking golf cart on the road in front of them.
“Renting a car was a completely unnecessary expense.”
“Yes, well, it’s my expense, not yours.” He tried to turn up the speed of the windshield wipers, but apparently, the highest speed was a snail’s pace.
“Since when do you throw your money around? Usually, you’re so tight you squeak when you walk.”
He slid her a glance. “Hey.”
“Admit it. You only rented the car because you can’t stand taking a cab. You like the control.”
“I do not.”
“Then why wouldn’t you let me make the arrangements? It’s what I do for a living.”
“I realize that. I sign your paychecks, remember?”
“I could have gotten you a cheaper car.”
“No one could have gotten me a cheaper car. I needed more leg room.”
“I meant a better car.”
Okay, that may be. “The only other car was smaller. I needed more leg room.”
“You need head room,” she said. “How you ever get through a damn door with that big, fat head is beyond me.”
“You’re sweet.”
She nearly choked on that. “Sweet?”
“Yeah. You only insult those you care about. Face it . . .” He shot her a look, waggling his brow. “You like me.”
She stared at him. “You’re crazy. And you still paid too much. Admit it—you like your control.”
“Okay, I like my control. Now admit you like me.”
“I like your damn fat head.”
He snickered in triumph and kept driving. “You going to tell me where to anytime soon? Or should I guess?”
“The docks. We need to stop Leena from taking a charter boat to Stone Cay.”
Looking out into the nasty night, he laughed. “No one’s going to charter a boat in this storm.”
“Hopefully not. But I just want to make sure she doesn’t try to go tonight.”
No one would be going anywhere tonight. Not in this mess. But arguing with her was like beating his head against a brick wall. The brick wall of Maddie’s stubbornness. So he drove her to the docks where she was told by two different charter guys exactly what Brody had already said.
No boat out tonight.
Brody drove them back toward town.
“A hotel,” she said, resigned. Frustrated. “Five star. Two rooms.”
Yeah, he read that two rooms part loud and clear.
He pulled into a decent-looking inn because it was the first one they came to and paid for two rooms. Then he walked Maddie to hers, not missing the way she was rubbing her shoulder. “Sorry it’s not a five-star hotel,” he said.
“You are not sorry.”
No, he wasn’t.
The inn was decorated in shabby chic beach and was clean, his only requirement. “It’s right on the beach.”
“I’m not here for fun in the sun.”
Which was a shame because under different circumstances—say, better weather and a better attitude on her part—he’d have enjoyed seeing her in an itsy-bitsy bikini.
He opened the door to her room, eyes narrowing in on the shoulder she was still clearly favoring. The woman was hurting, and stubborn as a mule.
“My room key, please?” Holding out her hand, she waggled her fingers impatiently.
“Do you need ice?”
“I don’t need anything.”
Uh-huh. “Maddie—”
“My room key.”
She accompanied this with another demanding wriggle of her fingers.
“Not yet.” She wasn’t getting rid of him that easily. “I’ll be right back.”
Her expression went wary. “Where—”
He shut the door on her, which gave him more satisfaction than it should have, then went to get her some ice, fairly confident that she wouldn’t pull another Houdini on him since they were now a unit.
Even if only temporarily.
Chapter 13
The moment Brody was gone, Maddie sagged a bit. Keeping up the pretense of being fine had nearly killed her. She drew a deep breath, then carefully let it out, doing her best to regulate her heavily beating heart and shaky pulse.
Breathing didn’t help.
Nothing would help.
Oh, God. She’d totally underestimated what coming back here would be like. The scent of the beach, the air, the tropical atmosphere that she’d once outrun but had never truly forgotten.
The storm blocked her view, but she looked out into the black night anyway, seeing in her mind what it would look like tomorrow—calm azure sea for as far as the horizon allowed. She knew elegant, posh resort hotels and casinos lined the white sandy beaches, which were mixed intermittently with weather-beaten motels and tourist trap shopping mazes, where she’d spent many hours as a young teenager working, saving.
Hording.
Planning. Always planning . . .
Nope, she didn’t need to see the picturesque scenery; it was imprinted in her mind along with memories.
Some good, most bad.
Once upon a time, the island life was all she’d ever known. Her mother had had Maddie and Leena right here in Nassau. And up until the day she’d left them, Maddie had never understood how her world could crumble and fall.
Maddie didn’t remember much about her mother, a fact that always disturbed her when she thought about it, so she didn’t. But sometimes, like now, she wished she could see her mother’s face more clearly in her head, that she could hear her voice.
That she hadn’t left her girls behind.
Maybe they’d been difficult babies. No doubt, twins were hell on anyone. But if Maddie ever had kids—and just the thought made her want to laugh because she’d screwed up every single relationship she’d ever been in, so how could she ever have kids—she’d never leave them behind.
Never.
Ever.
But her mother had. And then their father had left them, too. Not by choice. No, death wasn’t by anyone’s choice, but gone was gone.
Leaving her and Leena with no one but Rick and a gang of thugs masquerading as gem dealers.
She and Leena had gone to school here, had played here as well. And had learned to lie, cheat, and steal here . . .
Feeling nauseous, she turned away from the window. If only she could turn from the memories as easily . . .
Now what? Brody would be right back. Damn it, this was all his fault. He’d given her the upper hand by being easier to manipulate when he believed her to be hurting and in need of taking care of, but suddenly, she didn’t have to fake a damn thing, and couldn’t have if her life depended on it.
Because being here made her feel like a victim.
She’d hate Rick for that alone, but there were so many other things to hate him for. Her entire childhood, for one. Losing Leena for another.
She felt sick, sick, at bringing Brody here. Putting him in danger . . .
Once upon a time, she’d actually hoped that they could have something. She knew she was different, that she didn’t look like his everyday woman.
And he liked the everyday woman. He liked them sweet and kind and warm . . .
She wasn’t those things, none of them. She was tough and driven and damn good at what she did, and yet . . . and yet he seemed to accept that about her.
She could love him for that alone.
Not that she could let herself. She had a sister to get to before Leena did something she would regret, and then there was that Plan, which unfortunately, did not include a big, tall, gorgeous pilot who made her feel things she’d never felt before.
Brody got ice—and also scored with another chocolate-filled vending machine—and let himself back into Maddie’s room.
She was standing by the window, looking exhausted and unsteady enough that a soft breeze could knock her over. “Lay down.”
“I can tuck myself in and get myself iced up.”
“Really?” He moved closer. “Then what was earlier about? At the cabin, when you needed help out of your clothes?”
Guarded, she dropped her coat to a chair and sat on the edge of the bed. “Okay, you win. I need your help.”
“What?”
“I need your help.”
