Layla crossed her arms over her middle. “I guess I didn’t think anyone would be here.”
“Can’t be too careful. I won’t be long. If you see any sign of danger get in the raft and take off.”
Her eyes widened. “And leave you? No way.”
He gripped her shoulders. “I can take care of myself. Promise me.”
It wasn’t often he used that tone, but he needed her to understand the seriousness of the situation. He needed to know she’d stay safe.
She stiffened her spine and took a step back. “You have my word.”
He gave her a brief nod before striding away.
* * *
Layla watched Chris stride across the sand until he melted into the tree line. She worried about what he’d find. Prayed it was nothing dangerous.
Feeling suddenly very alone, she drew in a deep, cleansing breath. Part of her wanted to drop down in the sand and do some yoga to calm her nerves.
She’d thought arriving on the island would be a relief. Anything was better than being in that raft. Now, she felt ill at ease and stressed. About what could be here. About everything. The bad guys could come back at any moment if they suspected she’d survived. Hopefully, they believed her to be dead.
Not the time to think of what could be. She had to worry about the here and now. Maybe someone lived on this island and had a satellite phone they could use to call for help. Or, a boat they could take to the mainland. People bought private islands like this all the time. Maybe they’d get lucky.
For now, she needed to stay busy. Keep her thought at bay until Chris returned. Regardless of what he found they would need their supplies.
Using the ladder, she climbed into the raft and began untying their bags. The knots had gotten wet and it took her a few minutes to free them. She tossed them into the sand and climbed back out, wincing when painful darts shot up her injured leg.
She scanned the beach both ways. They could build a fire anywhere. There were plenty of trees for wood. If they had matches or a lighter. They would also need shelter of some kind.
Layla bit her lip. She wasn’t an outdoors kind of person. Her family didn’t camp or rough it. They booked vacations with posh hotels ad luxuries. They flew in their private jet. Sailed on a yacht. This was out of her comfort zone. Big time.
Even before she met her father she’d never been camping. Unless you called the electricity being shut off due to nonpayment roughing it. She’d grown up in a trailer park with no money. She’d always had a roof over her head and food in the fridge, but the offerings were meager. Her mom did the best she could and they had been satisfied with what they had. She never doubted her mother loved her and new her mom did the best she could.
Not that any of that helped her now. She didn’t have the first clue how to build a shelter or make a fire. She wasn’t much of a movie or television watcher. Most of her time was spent behind a computer screen working numbers and algorithms. Creating and building new programs. Right now, she was wishing she’d taken some time to watch survival shows.
For now, she could put the supplies in a safe, dry place. As soon as Chris returned, they could make a shelter keep them in.
First, she needed to change out of this wetsuit. It felt like a soggy second skin and she wanted it off. They’d been wet for over twenty-four hours. Time to get dry and check her wound.
Carrying two bags at a time, she got their supplies moved to a piece of driftwood double her size. She took the time to lay out some of their clothes that had gotten wet. The sun would dry them quickly. She was pleasantly surprised by the items Chris had thrown in. How he’d managed to be so thorough in such a rush was beyond her.
His clothes were less selective. Mostly dark colors. And so much larger than her own. Large clothes for a large man.
She shut down that train of thought before it ran loose. Chris wasn’t Edward. She shouldn’t judge him by her past experiences. It was so hard not to given their circumstances. He had her at his mercy and no one could stop him if he decided to take advantage of her.
With a sick feeling in her gut, Layla snatched a pair of yoga pants and t-shirt and glanced around her. Silly, really, but she had to make sure no one was lurking in the trees watching her. If Chris returned she hoped he had the decency to look the other way while she changed.
She found a sports bra and a pair of undies and stared at them. Until now she hadn’t realized how lame her wardrobe was. She loved yoga pants and sports bras. They were so comfortable. But not sexy at all.
What was she thinking? Her bodyguard would never see her undergarments. They were both professionals. A line she prayed he didn’t cross. Regardless of how handsome he was with his naturally tousled dark blond hair and sculpted lips.
And she was out. Thinking like that was dangerous. And stupid. Edward had been charming and handsome, too. Best to remember that.
Clearing her head, she stripped out of her wetsuit, peeling it off her like a banana. When she got to her wound she had to peel the fabric away. Dried blood had stuck it to her skin. She hissed out a breath when it pulled away.
Tossing the wetsuit over the log, she looked around her again before slipping out of her bikini and changing into dry clothes. She let out a sigh when she finished. She would never take being clean and dry for granted ever again.
Now what? She’d laid everything out to dry, changed into dry clothes, and re-organized the bags. She had nowhere to go and no idea how to build a shelter or fire. God, she felt so inept.
Her I.Q. was 132, yet she felt helpless to do anything. Give her a quiet room full of computers and she was in her element. What did a person do on a deserted island? How was she going to keep her sanity without a computer and work? She’d never been good with idle hands.
Somehow, they had to get off this island. She would focus on that. Make an SOS in the sand with rocks. Watch the horizon for boats or ships.
One thing she could do was calculate the amount of food they had to see how long it would last with rationing. Numbers and calculations, she was good at.
Okay. She had a plan and something to do until Chris returned. Because he would return. She refused to think of anything happening to him. Despite her qualms about personal protection she didn’t want to be on this island alone.
Focusing her thoughts, she began calculating their food supply.
9
Chris broke free of the trees to see Layla standing in front of a piece of driftwood, deep in thought, a finger pressed to her lips in concentration. She’d changed into a pair of black yoga pants and pink t-shirt. Their clothing lay out in the sun to dry.
She turned when he approached, eyes filled with relief.
“You’re back,” she said with a mixture of relief and surprise.
Did she think he would’t come back? He reached for a dry t-shirt and cargo pants. He was ready to be dry also.
“Did you find anything?”
He stripped out of his wetsuit, amused when she spun around and turned her back. She’d seen him in his swim trunks before they went diving.
“No one else is on the island.” He tossed his wetsuit over the log. “It’s small. Mostly trees.”
Damn it felt good to be dry. He only wished they had shoes. Running around barefoot would tear up their feet.
“You can turn around now.”
Layla did and he noticed how pale she looked. The bruise on her cheek more prominent.
Angry that she’d been struck he clenched his jaw. Shouldn’t have happened on his watch. Hell, none of this should have.
“I calculated out food and we have enough to twenty-six days if we ration.”
Impressed, he gave her a nod. “And our water supply?”
“Not as promising, but we do have some purification tablets and one filter. If we’re careful we can make it last forty-two days.”
Precise. Doable. There was always water to collect if they ran out.
“First thing I need to do is build a shelter and g
et a fire going.”
“I can gather dry wood and sticks,” Layla volunteered.
“Good. Anything dry like grass or moss would work, too.”
He looked around, scanning the tree line. Their best bet would be to build a shelter along the tree line so they were protected from the weather, yet close enough to the beach to scout for passing ships.
“I’ll start the shelter.”
“And I’ll gather firewood.” Layla gave him a firm nod as if pleased they had a plan.
They parted ways, Layla in one direction, him in another. He didn’t plan on skimping on the shelter. God knew how long they’d be here. But it would take more than a day to build it the way it needed to be. For today, however, he would put a lean-to shelter. Tomorrow, he’d make it better.
He found a suitable spot and went to work searching for long, solid tree limbs. Once stacked, he began putting up the lean-to. He leaned the taller logs up against a tree, making a roofline. Smaller branches were laid over the bigger one. He covered the smaller ones with branches and leaves to form the walls.
On the inside he put giant leaves and other plant leaves to make a floor. There was sand underneath to add cushion. The leaves would help keep the sand off them and their supplies.
“Is this enough firewood?”
Layla’s voice carried inside the shelter as he added another layer of leaves. Didn’t want Layla sleeping on the hard ground. He backed out of the shelter and rose to his feet. A nice pile of wood and sticks were piled in the sand.
“That’ll work,” he said, striding toward her.
The sun had begun to set. They’d been working for hours with only a small break. Sweat dampened the back of his shirt and hairline. A fine sheen covered Layla’s face, making her skin glow.
“I’ll get the fire going.” He found a ferro rod and striker in the raft emergency kit and used that to start an ember which quickly grew to a flame.
“Is the shelter finished?”
“For today, yes.”
“I’ll move our supplies inside.”
He crouched next to the fire. “Sounds good.”
Once Layla moved the supplies she returned to his side. “Hungry?”
Starved, but he knew they had to ration. Tomorrow he would go in search of alternate food supplies.
“I could eat,” he said.
“Let me see what I can do.”
It didn’t take her long to put together a small meal. Somehow, she’d managed to make an elegant meal of whole grain crackers, jarred caviar and trail mix of dried fruit and nuts. He wasn’t the caviar eating type, but it tasted damn good. Better than he expected. Surprisingly, he felt satiated after eating the meager offering. He noticed Layla only ate a couple bites. Was she rationing?
“You okay?” He asked her.
She looked up from where she’d been picking at the label on her water bottle with her thumbnail. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
Curious, he waited for her to go on.
“This is all my fault.”
Did she really believe that? Shit like this happened all the time, all over the world.
“This wasn’t a random attack,” she continued. “Those men weren’t pirates. They targeted me. And, I think they were hired by a traitor in my father’s company.”
Chris remained silent. Watched her set her water bottle in the sand and draw her knees up to her chest. Wrap her arms around them.
He had suspected this wasn’t a random attack. Too organized. Felt more like a target.
Sucked it might be someone she worked with that did this. Whoever had set this up knew Layla’s schedule and had been prepared. The funding to pull off that kind of firepower didn’t come easily. One thing bothered him. They had changed plans on a whim. Going to that cove hadn’t been part of the itinerary. Yet, the pirates had been waiting for them when they surfaced. A perfectly planned attack. There were only two ways he could think of that happening. One, they put a tracking device on the boat. Or, two, the captain had been in on it and alerted them to their location. Which, in turn, meant Layla’s trusted captain had betrayed her.
But she’d said Tim had shot one of the pirates and killed him before being shot himself. Why would he do that if he’d been part of it? A moment of regret? Repentance by saving her life?
“There’s more,” Layla continued. “Those men were after my computer and notes. They knew exactly what they wanted.”
Proof this had been an inside job. Set up and executed flawlessly. Whatever had been on her computer was worth killing for.
“What was on your computer?”
Layla dug her toes into the sand. “A program I’m working on for the government. It’s a big contract. Our biggest ever. Very top secret. I’m not supposed to be talking about it.”
He really didn’t need the details of the kind of program. What mattered was the fact they’d gotten what they wanted and now they were stranded on this damn island.
“Chris?”
He met her gaze.
“They didn’t get what they came for.”
His gut clenched. “You didn’t give up your computer,” he guessed. If she’ hadn’t given it up why had they left them there to die?
“No, I did.” She shifted. “I gave them my personal computer.”
He frowned. “Go on.”
“I keep my work separate from my personal life. Two different computers. I had my work computer locked away in a wall safe. Along with all of my work notes.”
His mind raced. She’d pulled a fast one and the repercussions could be extraordinary. The pirates must not have validated their possessions and just assumed Layla had given them what they wanted. Hell, it was reasonable considering the gun that had been pointed to her head. It took balls to do what she did. He gave her credit. She was one tough lady.
“Your work computer went down with the ship?”
She nodded. “Yes, but I have everything saved in an encrypted cloud file. My work isn’t gone.”
That wasn’t why he’d asked. Honestly, whatever top secret program she was working on didn’t concern him. His concern was what the bad guys would do when they found out Layla had duped them. If they were thorough, they would make sure Layla and he had gone down with the ship. When they discovered there were no dead bodies they might come looking for them. It’s what he would do. He’d search every inch of the ocean around the crash site and then expand to island in a search radius. They wouldn’t chance Layla or him living through this and being able to identify them. Besides that, they didn’t get what they wanted. What they had probably been paid a large sum of money to get. He doubted they would give up easily. Not after the lengths they’d gone to get it.
If they did come looking that could be their way off the island. He had to be prepared. Ready. Armed. Because they sure as hell wouldn’t be coming to rescue them.
“What are you thinking?” Layla asked, interrupting his thoughts.
He decided to go with honesty. Always the best policy. She could handle it.
“I think we need to be prepared for them to come looking for us. Especially knowing you still have what they want. They won’t risk the chance you may have survived.”
Her face went pale. “We’re still in danger.”
“Yes, but danger is what I do. This could work in our favor.”
“How?”
“Because when they come looking, we’re going to apprehend their boat and get to safety.”
“What if they don’t come looking?”
A question neither of them wanted answered. “Then we find another way off this island.”
She shivered, despite the warm breeze. “This is all very intimidating.”
“I’ll handle the bad guys when they come. It’s why your father hired me.”
“I wish that made me feel better.”
He got that. Most people lived normal lives without ever seeing violence. Or experiencing it. He ran toward it. Sometimes he forgot what it was like
to be normal.
“Layla, I’m good at what I do. I’ll keep you safe.”
“My father wouldn’t have hired you if you weren’t.”
She sounded certain, but not comfortable with it He could tell her all day how good he was, that didn’t make it true. He’d have to prove it to her. If the bad guys came looking for them, he’d have no choice.
The sun dipped behind the horizon, taking its heat with it. The air took on a slight chill.
Layla yawned.
Chris rose to his feet and held out a hand. “Come on.”
She accepted his hand and let him pull her to her feet. He led her to the lean-to and pushed a giant leaf aside to expose the opening.
“Get in.”
Layla didn’t argue. In truth, she looked dead on her feet. A night’s sleep would help her handle their situation. Not that she’d handled it badly. She’d been a trooper so far, but he sensed her fears and insecurities. Didn’t help that their only way off this island may be bad guys coming to eliminate them.
He waited until she had climbed in to crouch in the doorway.
“Use one of my shirts for a pillow and blanket,” he said, indicating the button down shirt in the corner along with their other supplies. As small as she was it would cover her fairly well. Better than nothing.
She pulled his shirt off the pile. “What about you?”
“I’m going to stay up for a bit. Keep the fire going.”
“Will you come to be with me?”
They both locked gazes at the same time, Layla’s words hanging heavy between them. He saw the blatant fear in hers and sobered instantly. She wasn’t inviting him into her bed. She was terrified he would say yes. What had happened to this woman to make her so leery of men?
“I didn’t mean…” She trailed off and he held up a dismissive hand.
“I know what you meant. It’s cool. I want to make sure the fire doesn’t go out.”
She looked uncomfortable. He wasn’t building separate shelters and risking something happening to her. He always stuck close to his charge. Why was Layla any different?
Necessary Risk: Wolff Securities Book 4 Page 4
