Chapter Eleven
Sandra trudged through the underbrush doggedly, ignoring the insects buzzing around her painfully exposed flesh.
She felt like a boiled lobster.
The hot sun tore into her pale skin ruthlessly, and she cursed the skimpy bikini she’d worn for their midnight swim. Still, she struggled forward, refusing to complain. Whining wouldn’t do either of them any good.
The night had seemed endless. Sean had insisted that they remain still and out of sight until morning, and even then they’d spent a few more hours hiding. He’d gone out looking around a few times and had spotted two men watching the remains of the boat. They’d left a few hours later, climbing into a jeep and driving off down the sandy beach.
She’d thought they should stay and wait for help. After all, there couldn’t be that many midnight explosions on the island. Someone was sure to notice eventually. Sean nixed that idea immediately, telling her it was too dangerous. Whoever rescued them would probably talk about it to someone else, and then the attackers would learn they were still alive.
So here they were, trudging through the jungle in the direction Sean insisted would lead them to a village.
She had no idea what they would do when they arrived. After all, it couldn’t be too often that white tourists in bathing suits appeared out of the jungle asking for a phone, but he seemed to know what he was doing. She certainly had no clue, so she was content to let him lead her.
Surprisingly, they reached the village after only an hour of walking.
She’d expected them to go right in, but he’d installed her in the bushes and went by himself. Ten minutes later he was back wearing a loose pair of cotton pants held up with a rope and a faded, button-up shirt.
When he handed her a ratty T-shirt and oversized jeans, she’d never been so happy to see anything in her life.
“Where did you get these?” she asked.
“I traded my watch for them,” he said. “The farmer said he’d give us a ride into a town with a phone, too.”
“Won’t he tell people about us?” she asked.
“Probably,” he said. “Although I’ve asked him not to. The people in this village are very close-mouthed, they don’t like outsiders.”
“How do you know that?”
“I research every place we go,” Sean replied. “It isn’t an accident that we came to this particular island.
You never know when you might need a bolt-hole, and a small village like this one can be a great place to lose yourself. I promised him more money if he gets us out of here without anyone seeing us.”
She nodded her head, amazed at how he managed to pull these things off. He handed her a small pair of sandals made from braided rope and she slid them on her feet. He reached down, pulled her up, and they were off. Twenty minutes later they crouched beside a narrow, one lane track. After what seemed like hours, they heard the sound of a sputtering engine. Sean stood up and waved as he recognized the farmer, who drove a pickup that had to be at least thirty years old. The cab was tiny, but she felt so happy to be on her way to civilization that she didn’t mind sitting awkwardly on Sean’s lap.
Two hours later, after bumping across the road and hitting her head on the roof of the truck every two or three minutes, she had a blinding headache. She hardly even noticed when they pulled out of the jungle into a small village. She did notice, however, when the truck passed through the village and hit a paved road. Their surroundings grew steadily more modern until they reached what could only be a tourist area, several hundred feet of beachfront lined with graciously aging hotels. Twenty years earlier this place had been a real hot spot.
The truck pulled to a halt in front of one of the buildings. With Sean’s muttered thanks to their driver in a language she didn’t understand, they were left standing in front of the hotel as two startled doormen looked around for their bags.
Sean had her sit in the lobby, and half an hour later he came back and escorted her up to a well-appointed suite, possibly the best the hotel had to offer. She collapsed on the bed, utterly exhausted, and barely paid attention as he went into the other room to talk on the phone. After a while he joined her, pulling her into his arms and kissing the back of her neck softly as they fell asleep.
* * * * *
The next morning she found herself alone. She considering calling down to the desk and asking for him, but she didn’t want to do anything to draw attention to herself. After all, someone had tried to kill them.
The last thing she needed was to call down and ask for him by name, especially if he hadn’t used his real name. She didn’t even know what names they were using. Was he Sean or Joe?
Instead she took a long, hot bath and tried to calm her thoughts. She seemed to be getting used to this life on the run, she realized wryly. The things that would have driven her crazy just a few months ago, the uncertainty, the fear she managed to push to the back of her mind. For the first time in her life she was living for the day, not of the future. Refreshing in a way. Zen.
She snickered at the thought as she toweled off and pulled on a fluffy bathrobe. She walked into the main room. There was a shadow, a man talking on the phone. Her heart leapt. Sean? No, Valzar.
“What are you doing here?’ she asked coldly.
He dropped the receiver back in the cradle, and then turned to her.
“I’m here to take you away,” he said, eyes watching her without expression.
“What do you mean?” she asked. “Sean won’t like this and you know it.”
“I’m here because Sean asked me to come,” he said softly. If she hadn’t known better, she might have said he had pity written on his face.
“That’s not true,” she replied. “Sean doesn’t trust you. He wouldn’t leave me alone with you.”
“Yes, I’m afraid it is,” he said. He walked toward her, and she clutched the robe more tightly to her chest, backing away from him. He smiled, but there was no happiness in his expression.
“For reasons I still don’t understand, he cares for you,” Valzar said. “He’s worried. Last night scared him, made him realize that his enemies are still out there. He needs to be alone, chica. You’re his weakness.”
She shook her head, denying it.
“I’m not his weakness, you are,” she said bitterly. “You’re the one who got him into this, and for all I know you’re the one trying to kill him. You need to leave us alone.”
“You need to realize what kind of man you’ve been sleeping with,” Valzar said. “Sean is not the kind of man who can settle down, who can afford a family. None of us are. Sean needs to be free so he can do his work.”
“Sean’s tired of his work,” she said, her voice cold. “He’s been out of your business for five years—all he wants is to sit back and enjoy his freedom. Why can’t you just let him do that?”
“I’m not the one he has to protect,” Valzar said, his voice gentle. “You are. He sent me here because he wants me to spirit you away, to make you disappear. He wants you to be safe. You’ve made him desperate, and desperate men do foolish things.”
“You’ve made no secret of the fact that you want me dead,” she said. “Why should I trust you now? This is some kind of game you’re playing, and I won’t be your pawn in it.”
“There’s a spy in my organization,” Valzar said softly. “It’s the only way they could have found the two of you. That means they knew I want you dead. I’m the perfect person to make you disappear. That’s why Sean asked me to help, because it’s my fault. I owe him more than I can repay.”
“You’re full of shit.”
He stepped closer to her, invading her space. He smelled warm and male, and for an instant she could imagine that some women would find him very attractive. Fools who weren’t smart enough to realize the man didn’t have a soul.
“I’m not full of anything but the desire to help my friend,” he said, touching her shoulder. She stiffened.
“He has asked me to help you, and I’m going to do that, regardless of what I think should be done with you. I’ve given him my oath.”
“You can’t force me to do anything,” she said.
“Yes, I can,” he said. “You can come easily, or I can have my men inject you with a sedative and take you out while you’re unconscious. I don’t care either way.”
They glared at each other for long, tense moments, and then she let her gaze fall. She wasn’t going to win this way.
“All right,” she said quietly, disgusted by the submission she could hear in her voice. “Let me go get dressed.”