Hayley snuggled into the soft bed and sleepily watched Logan light candles around the room. Naked, as sexually sated as she’d ever been, her body aching in a delicious way, Hayley drowsed against the thick comforter. The storm didn’t bother her. In fact, the sounds of the tempest created a nice lullaby.
“How long do you think the power will be out?” she asked.
“I’m not sure,” said Logan, “but there’s a backup generator. I need to go outside and start it.”
“In the storm?” asked Hayley, concern whipping through her. “It’s too dangerous.”
“Don’t worry. The generator is about ten feet from the main house—in a well-protected shed. I have flashlights downstairs. I could walk around this island blindfolded and not get lost. Even in this storm.” Logan’s smile glinted in the flickering candlelight. “Don’t worry, babe. I’ll get the electricity working and bring up us some hot chocolate.”
He sounded so confident, Hayley felt better. In truth, the idea of sipping hot chocolate while snuggled with Logan in this huge bed tempted her beyond reason. “With marshmallows?”
“Whipped cream and chocolate drizzle.” Logan finished lighting the last candle then stood and looked out the French doors. All was darkness; only the violent thrashings of the gale penetrated.
He slipped on a pair of boxer shorts. “Stay here, okay?”
She saluted him. “Yes, sir.”
He laughed softly, bent to give her a kiss, and left, closing the door behind him.
Santos crouched under the overhang and watched the man exit the house and head toward the small building just a few feet away. Ah, Logan Greyson. With the power out and the storm hiding his presence, Santos was sure he could kill the island’s inhabitants and be back home in time for a late dinner. He was surprised by the lack of security. Apparently, Logan had been confident no one would find the island, much less breach it.
What a moron.
Santos didn’t want to risk being discovered. If he shot Logan now, he couldn’t be sure the storm would cover the sound, especially this close to the house. He didn’t want to give Hayley any reason to think something was wrong. Shit. He had to kill Hayley first. Then it was all gravy. Once she was dead, it wouldn’t matter who tried to come to her rescue. He’d kill them, too.
Logan reached the shed and opened the door. The storm whipped it back, making it impossible to close again. After he’d entered the shed, Santos hurried across the sand. As the fool bumbled and cursed, the flashlight’s beam bounced across the interior of the shed. How could he take Logan out of the equation?
The big metal wrench gleamed like the Holy Grail.
Santos scooped up the heavy tool and slammed it against the side of Logan’s head.
The poor bastard never had a chance.
He slumped onto the concrete, blood dripping down his temple. If the blow hadn’t killed him, Santos would finish the job before he escaped.
Hayley felt someone lightly shaking her. She opened her eyes to see Claire bending over her. The woman put a finger to her lips. “Come with me. Be quiet.”
“What’s going on?” she asked in a whisper.
“Get dressed.”
As Hayley scrambled from the bed, throwing on a T-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops, Claire hurried around the room putting out the candles.
Claire turned on a tiny flashlight and pointed the beam at her feet. “Go barefoot. Those things will slow you down if you have to run.”
Hayley tossed off the shoes. Claire’s urgency terrified her. Her heart started pounding hard. “Where’s Logan?”
“He can take care of himself. My orders are to take care of you.”
“Orders.” Hayley suddenly realized Claire was much more than a hotel employee. “Are you with law enforcement?”
“Private security. I’ve known Logan forever. We attended the same private high school and have been friends ever since.” Claire offered a quick smile. “He wouldn’t trust your safety to just anyone.”
Hayley felt slightly better. But she had to know, so she asked, “It’s Santos, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know. But I think there’s an intruder in the house.” Claire withdrew a big, black gun from her hip holster. “Follow behind me. Stay close.”
Nine
When Santos entered the kitchen through the back door, he waited, listening for movement. The house had an empty feel to it, but he couldn’t assume anything. The storm still raged, rattling the windows and slamming against the exterior.