Necessary Risk: Wolff Securities Book 4

by Lowery, Jennifer

Annoyed at the situation and the strip in his loins at the thought of sleeping next to her, he said, “Get some rest,” and covered the opening with leaves. He heard her moving around briefly before going still.

  Chris rose to his feet and mentally kicked himself as he crossed the sand to stand by the fire.

  He couldn’t think of Layla as anything except his charge Any attraction he felt had to be buried. He wasn’t his brothers. He wasn’t going to distracted by his feelings. That kind of mistake led to people dying.

  Like Ryan had.

  Pain knifed through his chest. He didn’t blame his brothers for what happened, but he’d be damned if he let history repeat itself. Solo missions only from here on out. He worked better alone anyway. No one got hurt that way.

  Images of blood gushing out of his younger brother’s chest filled his head. Tore at his chest. He asked himself the same question he’d asked a million times. Why Ryan? He had everything going for him. A fiancée who loved him more than life itself. A baby on the way. Where the was the justice in that?

  Chris blew out an explosive breath and stalked around the fire.

  It should have been him to take that bullet. He lived life recklessly. Took stupid risks. Skipped family traditions to spend with women he barely remembered the names of.

  The universe got it wrong, and goddamn if he would accept that.

  10

  Layla flipped over onto her other side and let out a sigh when something poked into her shoulder. She’d tried three different positions and none of them were comfortable. Even as tired as she was, she just couldn’t get comfortable on her bed of leaves.

  Didn’t help that Chris's shirt smelled like pure, raw man and filled her nose every time she breathed. Which, in turn, made her hormones take notice and went against every safety feature she’d built to protect herself from history repeating itself. How could his shirt smell so good after being in a bag for days anyway? It wasn’t fair.

  Why was she letting her thoughts wander along those lines practically every minute? Hadn’t she learned her lesson? Besides that, it was unprofessional. He was her bodyguard. Hired by her father. The line was clearly drawn in the sand. And she wasn’t crossing it.

  The ache in her shoulder grew worse. Frustrated, she sat up and crawled toward the opening. She pushed the makeshift door aside and started to climb out, but the sight of Chris standing next to the fire stopped her.

  The lines of his face were taut, his jaw set. It wasn’t his good looks that made her pause. It was the look of our agony on his face. Not physical pain from what they had done to him. Deep pain. The kind that chills your soul. It made her want to go to him. And wrap her arms around him. Take it away.

  None of which she did. Instead, she replaced the door and resumed her place on the makeshift bed. What had put that look on Chris’s face? What tragedy had he endured to hurt that badly?

  Wrapping his shirt tighter around her, she closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but Chris’s face kept filling her head until finally she fell into an exhausted sleep.

  * * *

  Satisfied the fire would stay going while he got a few hours of sleep, Chris felt his way into the shelter and lay down, careful not to touch or wake Layla. He let his heavy eyelids slide closed. Damn, he was tired.

  Beside him, Layla made a disgruntled sound and bumped into his side. He didn’t move because there was no room. She moved again, restless. He’d slept in worse places than this and didn’t mind the discomfort. Layla obviously wasn’t as accustomed to it. He didn’t know what to do to help her. She was opposed to his touch and he couldn’t move so he lay still and waited for her to settle down.

  Minutes later she rolled into his side, one arm slipped around his waist, her head tucked into his shoulder. He stiffened, waiting for reprimand. Instead he received a soft, contented sigh that went straight to his core.

  After a few minutes of waiting for her to push him away he let himself relax and slide into sleep.

  * * *

  Layla opened her eyes to rays of sunlight peeking through the logs and leaves that made up the shelter. She sat up, stretching her achy muscles. Sleeping on the ground definitely had its disadvantages. Maybe today she’d see what she could do to make it plusher. If nothing else it would keep her busy and stop her mind from wandering. It was hared enough keeping her thoughts at bay and not getting panicky over their situation. Knowing the bad guys were their only way off this island was a hard pill to swallow.

  Before her mind ran away with her, she climbed out of the lean-to. Chris stood at the water’s edge, his broad back to her. She crossed the warm, white sand to stand by his side. He glanced down when she approached. Whatever had haunted him last night was gone now.

  “Good morning,” she said.

  “Morning.”

  “Did you get any sleep?”

  She didn’t remember him coming to bed. Once she finally fell asleep, she hadn’t awakened again until now.

  Something flitted across his face but he masked it before she could identify it. He had a great poker face. She had no idea what that look meant.

  He returned his gaze to the clear blue waters. “I did. You?”

  “Once I finally fell asleep, yes.” She wanted to ask him if he’d slept out here but got the sense, he didn’t want to talk about it so she let it drop.

  “What’s on the agenda for today?” She functioned better with clear-cut plans. Purpose. Idle hands were never good.

  “I’m going to work on a better shelter. Do some more scouting.”

  The thought of him leaving her here alone didn’t bode well. She’d never had issues with being alone before, but being stranded here changed everything she knew. What if he didn’t come back? As much as she hated relying on others, she had no choice here. Her experience with such matters added up to nil. He seemed to know all about survival. How he knew she didn’t know. She appreciated his confidence and take-charge demeanor. As long as he didn’t go too alpha on her they stood a chance of getting along. And, as long as he kept his distance.

  Last night had been the first test and he’d passed. He hadn’t come into the shelter or tried to harm her in any way. In fact, she had no idea what he did last night. Maybe he slept out here by the fire. As long as he didn’t become a threat to her this would go just fine.

  “First, I need to redress that wound on your leg. Can’t afford infection.”

  She didn’t want to tell him that she suspected an infection had already started. Her leg felt swollen and warm. Tender.

  “Have a seat by the fire.”

  She did as ordered and moved to the fireside to sit on a log Chris had dragged over sometime while she slept last night. He went to retrieve the first aid kit while she tried to get comfortable.

  When he returned and sat next to her feet, she extended her leg and shifted onto a hip to allow him better access.

  His hands were warm when they clasped her leg, sending delectable shivers up her spine. It caught her so off guard she twitched and caused him to glance up at her.

  “Okay?” he asked.

  “Yes. I’m fine.”

  He nodded and went back to work while she tried to bring her thudding heart back to a normal pace. Her response surprised her. It had been a long time since she’d felt any hint of attraction for someone. The fact it was her bodyguard didn’t settle well.

  She watched intently as he gently unpeeled the bandage from her skin. She bit her lip when she saw the redness surrounding the wound. It looked swollen and angry. Not a good sign.

  With tender fingers, he prodded the area around the wound. Layla drew in a sharp breath when fire-hot needles pierced her skin.

  “The wound is infected,” he said, digging in the first aid kit.

  “Do we have antibiotics?”

  “I hope so.”

  For the first time since she’d met him, he didn’t sound too confident. That made her nerves flare. How would she get rid of the infection without medicine? Her hopes plummeted w
hen Chris began to replace all of the items back in the kit.

  “No antibiotics,” she guessed.

  His voice was tight when he answered. “No. Best we can do is keep the wound clean and dry.”

  He met her gaze and she hoped he didn’t see the fear in her eyes. She needed to be strong. Now, more than ever.

  “You don’t happen to have any honey in your arsenal, do you?”

  She frowned. “Honey?”

  “It’s a natural antiseptic.”

  She did a mental tally of the supplies. When she’d grabbed the food she’d been focused on non-perishable items that were in sealed containers and could withstand the elements. Not easy when the galley hadn’t been fully stocked given her short trip. And since she did her own cooking with fresh fruits and vegetables, almost everything had been perishable. She did, however, enjoy honey with her tea. And there had been a small bottle on the yacht. Which now sat on the bottom of the ocean. As did her tea.

  Disappointment washed over her. If only she’d grabbed that little glass jar. “Sorry,” she said. “No honey.”

  “It was a long shot.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine.” She didn’t know who she was trying to convince. Herself or him.

  “You will be.”

  He sounded so certain she almost believed him.

  “Where did you learn first aid?” She stared off into the distance while he cleaned and bandaged her wound. It hurt like the dickens but she refused to let him see it. She didn’t like showing weakness. A trait she’d learned from her father.

  “The Navy.”

  She waited for him to elaborate but seconds ticked by until she asked, “How long were you in the Navy?”

  “Long enough. I was a Navy SEAL.”

  Her brows rose. She hadn’t expected that. Looking back at his quick-thinking and strong swim skills she could see it. Impressive to say the least. She didn’t think any of her bodyguards had ever been Navy SEAL’s. It reassured her and explained his knowledge of survival skills and first aid. It also made her feel safer knowing he could handle anything that came their way. As long as he didn’t go all alpha and force himself on her.

  White-hot needles stabbed her leg, drawing a gasp from her. “Ouch.”

  “Sorry. Had to clean the wound.”

  He really did sound repentant.

  “What did you use? A hot poker?” She joked. Sort of.

  “Just a little antiseptic,” he mused.

  “Yeah, dipped in fire,” she muttered.

  He sent her a look that caused butterflies to set flight low in her belly. Oooh. A bad boy lay beneath that handsome surface. Exactly the kind of man she should steer clear of.

  “Almost finished,” he said, returning his attention to her leg.

  Layla stared out across the ocean. This truly was a beautiful place. She searched for any signs of movement. A ship or a yacht. Preferably one coming to rescue them and not the bad guys.

  A thought occurred to her. “Are you supposed to give my father regular updates?”

  She knew from past experiences that her father demanded updates from the personal security. It was more of a control issue with her father than anything else. He did worry about her when she traveled but not for reasons he should. She knew he loved her in his own way, but sometimes it felt like he cared more about the business than her.

  “Yes.”

  Normally, it would annoy her that her father needed to know every move she made, but this time it just might save their lives.

  “That’s good. When you miss a call, my father will be upset. When he finds out we’re out of contact completely he’ll send out the troops.”

  Chris had finished bandaging her leg and was packing up the kit.

  “Let’s hope he finds us first,” she said, watching him putting supplies back where they belonged.

  Her father was nothing if not tenacious. He wouldn’t give up until he had answers. She prayed he was the one to find them first. She had a lot of life left to live. A bucket list. Marriage, family, kids. Before now she’d put them on the back burner, believing she had time to get over what her bodyguard had done to her and find a good man who would treat her like a real person and not something to conquer. She wanted to fall in love and start a family. She’d promised her mom she would give her grandkids someday.

  The thought hurt her heart. Her mom’s passing had been rough. She’d been Layla’s sole supporter. She did everything she could to give Layla a good life. There wasn’t a day that went by Layla didn’t think of her.

  If only she’d been more vigilant with her goals. It had always been ‘after the next project’. She’d never put love or kids first on her list. Now, she regretted not dating more. Not unburying herself from work long enough to see the world around her. She’d traveled to many places, but not once did she take a moment to enjoy the beauty around her or the bounties foreign places had to offer. There were cultures and history to be explored. So much more than just her computer screen.

  Looking at Chris she let her mind wander for a slim moment. He didn’t give off a creeper vibe. In fact, quite the opposite. He was confident, capable and determined. She believed him when he said he would get them off the island. She just didn’t know how that would be possible.

  No. She wasn’t ready to trust yet.

  Pushing her thoughts away she asked quietly, “What if he doesn’t?”

  Chris glanced up. Went to put a hand on her knee and withdrew it. Regret passed through her, surprising her. Did she want his touch? Was she ready to take that leap?

  “Then we’ll deal with it. Whatever, or whoever, comes our way, we got this.”

  She wished she shared his confidence. He was trained for situations like this. She wasn’t. She’d always left the security up to her bodyguard. Until now it had never been an issue. Nothing had ever really happened except some paparazzi trying to sneak into her hotel or restaurant where she was dining to take pictures. Her father was a media hound. Used it to his advantage. She didn’t like being in the spotlight.

  Being here, stranded, out of her comfort zone only made things worse. She had to rely on her bodyguard for pretty much everything and that didn’t settle well. Normally, she’d do an internet search to learn what she needed. Not having a computer made her want to pull her hair out.

  “Teach me self-defense,” she blurted. The thought of being helpless ever again gave her palpitations. She hadn’t been able to stop Edward from assaulting her. She hadn’t been able to help Chris when the bad guys took over their boat. Tim had died saving her. She’d been a deer in headlights and she hated that feeling. Maybe things would have gone differently if she’d been able to act and had better survival skills.

  Her heart ached for Tim. He’d been the captain for her and her father for years. A gently, quiet man who treated her like his own daughter. How would she ever look his wife in the face and tell her she was responsible for his death?

  “What?”

  Chris’s question brought her back to reality. His frown said it all. She’d caught him off guard. Maybe even offended him a little, which wasn’t her intention. She didn’t doubt his ability to protect her, she just wanted to learn to defend herself. If something happened to him, she would be on her own. For the first time ever, that scared the crap out of her.

  “We have nothing but time,” she said, pleading her case. “Teach me some of those Navy SEAL moves.” So, she would never be vulnerable again.

  “You need to stay off that leg as much as possible.”

  He rose abruptly to his feet, confirming her suspicions. She’d offended him. He didn’t give her time to explain that she had faith in his skills and that this was for her own peace of mind. Her own safety.

  “I’m going to work on the shelter. Do you want to make something to eat?”

  He strode away and she mentally kicked herself. Although his comment did sting. She could do more than fix meals. In the back of her mind a little voice asked what exactly could she
do on a deserted island.

  She silently told the voice to shut up and got to work on breakfast.

  11

  Chris raked a hand through his hair, silently cursing himself. What kind of bodyguard didn’t inspire confidence in his charge? It rankled and pissed him off. He was damn good at his job. The fact that his ability to protect Layla was in question made him surly.

  Part of him could see why she wouldn’t trust him. The pirates had gotten the drop on him on the yacht and she’d witnessed it first-hand. Now, they were stranded on an island in the middle of the damn ocean with danger knocking on the door and his charge worried she needed to protect herself.

  Knots formed in his gut. There were too many variables in this situation. Too many unknowns. He mentally tallied the ‘what if’s”. It helped him imagine every scenario and come up with a plan to handle it. The one he didn’t like was where they never got rescued. It was a possibility. They could be outside the search radius. They may be unseen. Presumed dead.

  No, never happen. His brothers wouldn’t give up the search for him. Ever. The Wolff’s didn’t stop. If one of them didn’t come home they went looking, leaving no stone unturned. Especially now.

  Familiar pain knifed through his chest. They’d lost one brother. No way in hell would they lose another. They would find him. Hopefully before the bad guys.

  He’d missed two call-ins. Quinn would be sending out a search party anytime. If he hadn’t already. One thing about his oldest brother, he followed the rule book when it came to safety and his family. It gave him hope to know his brothers were out there and that they wouldn’t give up. He only wished Layla had the same comfort. She sure as hell didn’t have it in him.

  Damn, that rankled.

  Now wasn’t the time to dwell on it. He had more important things to do. The shelter needed work and he needed some makeshift weapons. He had to be prepared for any and everything.

  Clearing his head, he went to work.