Double Jeopardy

by Cooper, KaLyn

  Duke took a step closer to Ryleigh and lowered his voice so only she could hear. “You were brought here to protect my wife.” Both of them watched as the two tall, slender women slowly walked to the open wall animatedly talking with their hands. “Ryleigh, please. Protect her. She’s the most valuable thing in my life.”

  Ryleigh stared for a long second into Duke’s beseeching eyes. He’d meant those words. And Alex had said she was there to safeguard Ella.

  Turning to his new bodyguards, Ryleigh warned, “Protect him with your life, or I will personally hunt you down and take yours.” When one of the men looked like he wanted to roll his eyes, she stepped into his personal space and got right up into his face. “You have no idea who I am and what I am capable of doing. Don’t make the same mistake the Taliban lieutenant did in Khost and underestimate me.”

  At the name of the city near the Afghanistan and Pakistan border, the man’s eyes widened.

  Speaking in Urdu, she informed the men, “Yes, I was there. Embedded.”

  She quickly stepped away to join Kenderly and Ella who were standing at the edge of one of the many seating areas. Covertly, she watched the two security guards as they flanked Duke and headed out the front door to the tram.

  “You have such a beautiful mix of Persian and Turkish rugs.” Ella smiled at Kenderly.

  “They’re not the same?” Kenderly glanced from one seating group to another. “How can you tell the difference?”

  Ella smiled. “Years of experience.”

  “Wish I knew more about them.” Kenderly looked at the primarily scarlet rug on her right then frowned at the cherry red rug on her left. “I don’t know what it is about that one, but I just don’t like it.”

  “It’s no wonder.” Ella moved into the seating area. “See this pattern? It’s a weeping willow design that stands for sorrow and death.”

  Kenderly practically leaped away from the rug as though she’d seen a poisonous snake. She gestured to one of the bellman. “Get rid of that rug immediately. I want it off this island before the sun sets.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The bellman signaled for his friend to join him as he started to move furniture.

  “I knew there was something I didn’t like about that rug.” Kenderly looked around as though afraid to step in any direction. “Tell me about these others, please.”

  Ella pointed to the next seating area that surrounded an ornate green rug. “I’m quite surprised your designer chose this cotton rug. It’s all wrong for a tropical setting, although the Garden of Paradise design is extremely beautiful.”

  “Is there something wrong with this one?” Kenderly asked.

  “Yes, and no. It’s not the design, it’s the material. Cotton is predisposed to mildew and given the high humidity of the tropics, it would be a poor choice.” Ella then added, “I would have selected silk for your hotel. Your guests often wear sandals and slip them off.” She glanced at three women who sat chatting, all of whom had their bare feet tucked under their bottoms while their sandals sat on a round blue rug.

  “Silk is so soft and inviting, unlike the wool of the rug in front of your guests over there.” Ella turned her head and barely nodded at the secluded setting. “It’s also one of the most durable natural fibers on the planet. Although it does not mildew, silk and water, especially saltwater, are not friends. I would never place it, as your designer did, at the entrance from the pool.” She gestured to the six-foot-long strip of blue rug in front of the large doors that overlooked the pools and ocean.

  Kenderly’s smile was just one step away from evil. “I knew that woman had no idea what she was doing, at least when it came to design. She certainly knew how to wrap men around her little finger, though.” She smoothed her face into a warm smile. “I’m so glad we met.” With a glance toward Ryleigh, she suggested, “Let’s take that walk, and I’ll show you around.”

  Just as they were about to step outside, the most devastating man Ryleigh had ever seen approached the ladies with a tray of drinks and asked in a thick Spanish accent, “May I interest you in one of my specialty drinks?”

  “Perfect timing, Diego,” Kenderly cooed. “I believe this one is perfect for you.” She lifted a wide-bowled glass with golden liquid garnished by a slice of orange and handed it to Ella.

  After smelling it Ella smiled. “Mmm. What is this?”

  “I call it Desire Between the Sheets.” Diego raked curly black hair off his forehead and gave her a lady-killer smile. In that moment, he looked like he could be Antonio Banderas’s younger, and even more handsome, brother.

  Pink flared in Ella’s, cheeks and she tried to hide her smile by sipping the drink. “Oh, my God!”

  “That’s what all the ladies say to me.” Diego’s double entendre was not missed by any of the women standing next to him.

  “This is absolutely wonderful. What’s in it?” Ella licked her top lip.

  “What happens between the sheets…is private and my little secret.” At Diego’s words, Ryleigh was ready to jump him and test his statement. She wasn’t sure if it was the sexy Spanish accent or the dark, sultry eyes that made her wet.

  Kenderly focused on Ryleigh, then cocked her head slightly to the side. “You are complex,” she noted then studied the tray of drinks. Lifting the hurricane glass with a cherry and wedge of orange speared by an umbrella, she handed the drink to Ryleigh. Chock-full with crushed ice, the bottom half of the curvy glass was held dark red liquid and was topped by something bright yellow. The drink looked perfect and thirst quenching.

  With a coy smile at Diego, she noted, “This is exactly what I need. What do you call it?”

  “Why of course,” his voice was deep and the sexiest thing she had ever heard. “It’s a favorite of all women, Sex on the Beach.”

  Ryleigh thought she was going to faint from lack of air when he leaned in, gazing deep into her eyes, and stirred the concoction with the straw while he added, “With a twist.” He leaned even closer, moist heat brushing across her ear as he whispered, “I make the best Screaming Orgasm you’ve ever had.”

  Ryleigh would have dropped the cold glass if he hadn’t wrapped his hand over hers. “Careful, querido. I wouldn’t want anything to shatter your Sex on the Beach.” Diego drew back very slowly, her gaze caught in his heated chocolate eyes. He lifted a tall ice-filled glass of bubbling clear liquid garnished with a thick slice of deep green lime and handed it to Kenderly. “I’ll see you ladies later.” He turned on his heel and walked away giving the ladies a perfect view of toned butt cheeks under tight white slacks.

  “He’s such a flirt.” Kenderly sipped her drink but no one moved until he had turned the corner and was out of sight.

  Ryleigh let out a long slow breath. Wow. Just wow.

  For the next twenty minutes, the three women strolled and sipped, chatted and sipped, as Ryleigh studied her surroundings and mentally mapped the resort. The pools next to the hotel meandered through thick foliage meant to give privacy to couples or individuals. To Ryleigh, they were perfect sniper hides. The Wainwrights would not be sunning by these pools if she had any say in the matter.

  Then the ladies slipped off their sandals and walked barefoot down the beach as Kenderly talked about the many water sports available to Indulgences Resort guests. Ella seemed quite interested in snorkeling and scuba diving. Good thing Ryleigh was a certified dive master. She wouldn’t have any problems keeping up while protecting her charge from danger.

  When they reached a large outdoor pavilion, Kenderly gestured for them to follow her up the steps. Thick round bamboo poles in concentric circles provided the basis for the thatched roof that peaked thirty feet above.

  “We have a very special dinner and show planned for Thursday night.” Looking directly at Ella she added, “There’s nothing quite as romantic as a walk on the beach as the crescent moon hangs amidst a billion stars overhead.”

  Romantic, yes. Dangerous, certainly. Ryleigh’s assessment of the suggestion was completely different fro
m the other two women. As she glanced at the open area and in the distance to the tree line, she knew she could make that shot and disappear into the surrounding jungle without a trace. She would have to talk to Blake before they allowed the Wainwrights to come to this place.

  A meandering path brought them to two light blue cabanas separated by palm trees; flowering hibiscus that offered huge splashes of red against its dark green foliage; and birds of paradise that jutted out like long-legged parrots in vivid oranges, blues, and reds. Just past the cabana, Ryleigh caught sight of swimming pools in front of each and the turquoise ocean lapping a private white sand beach.

  At the Y in the path, Kenderly announced, “Ladies, I’ll say goodbye here. Ella, yours is on the right. I feel like this vacation will be everything you expected and more. I’ll see you again, soon.” She turned and walked away, quickly disappearing around the bend in the path.

  Perfection. It was the only word Ryleigh could think as she walked Ella to her cabana. At the door, Ryleigh asked the resort guard, “Is everything okay with Mr. Wainwright?”

  As though reporting to a senior officer, the security guard came to attention and replied, “Yes, ma’am. Upon arrival, we cleared the house before allowing Mr. Wainwright to enter. He requested we post outside and allow him some privacy.”

  “I’ll just go in and check on him and finish unpacking.” Ella smiled at Ryleigh. “You know men, if I’m not there to put everything away like he has it at home, he’ll be screaming by morning because he can’t find anything he needs.”

  “I’m going to talk with these men for a few minutes, then I’ll be right in,” Ryleigh took up defensive position with her back to the house when Ella entered the cabana. “Did Mr. Wainwright say anything else?”

  “No, ma’am, but he did complain about the lack of cell phone and Internet connection.” Quietly the guard asked, “They are aware that this is the only cottage without those amenities, right?”

  “You mean we have phone and Internet?” She glanced at the cabana only fifty feet away that she would share with Blake.

  “Yes, ma’am. This particular cabana is most often used by people who want to disconnect from the world.”

  “Wonderf—”

  Ella’s scream interrupted Ryleigh’s every thought.

  Chapter 5

  As Blake approached the pastel cabanas, he heard the feminine scream and shot into a dead run. The thought of Ryleigh being hurt dashed through his mind. The closer he got to the cabana he realized it wasn’t her voice but Ella’s.

  Pushing through the two guards who stood dumbfounded, blocking the door, Blake took in the scene before him.

  Duke lay sprawled on the living room floor.

  Blake scanned the man head to toe looking for blood but saw none. Thank God. Then he cursed himself for leaving Duke alone. Sure, he had local protection but obviously their training was nowhere near the quality of his. And where the fuck was Ryleigh when Duke had been attacked?

  Ryleigh kneeled next to Duke, two fingers on his throat, her gaze pinned to her watch.

  “Answer, damn you,” Ella hissed into the telephone. He could tell the instant her command had been met when relief washed over her face. Listening as she quickly explained that she had arrived at their cabana only to find her husband’s unconscious body on the floor, he had his situational report. Blake was both surprised and relieved that she spoke concisely and calmly, the opposite of her physical demeanor as she nearly vibrated with anxiety.

  Good girl. Now, hold it together a little while longer.

  “Thank you,” she said on a sigh into the phone. She quickly turned to Ryleigh. “They are sending the doctor right away.” Then the woman disappeared into the bedroom.

  What the hell? Her husband may be dying here on the floor and she leaves to…what? Fix her makeup?

  Blake shrugged off Ella’s actions and refocused on Duke as he kneeled next to Ryleigh and asked, “How’s he doing?”

  “Pulse is weak and thready.” She glanced up and met his eyes. “But he’s alive.”

  “Any idea what happened?” Blake asked, purposefully keeping his voice low.

  “There’s no outward appearance of a struggle.” Her gaze scanned Duke’s body once again. “I heard Ella scream while I was talking to the security detail right outside the door. I ran in, and he was on the floor. Why don’t you look around and see what you think.”

  “Have they called in the police?” Blake nodded toward the front door.

  “I have no idea whether they have or not. Why don’t you check on that,” Ryleigh suggested.

  Sounded like a plan to Blake. He stood and strode toward the front door. “Have you called this in?”

  “Yes, sir,” the two men said in unison.

  The one to his right stated, “We immediately reported the incident to the security office. I believe Nigel is on his way here, now.”

  “Excellent. I’m going to take a look around inside. Show Nigel in the moment he arrives.” Orders given, Blake turned into the house with fresh eyes.

  He took in the spacious living room. Louvered doors were opened onto a deck that overlooked the pool and beyond to the ocean. He strode over and examined the locks. No sign of tampering or forced entry. Working his way around the room he checked the windows on the side facing his own cabana. Locked. He’d eventually get over to see his quarters, but determining what happened to Duke came first.

  He followed the exterior wall, checking every spotless surface for anything that looked out of place. Nothing. In the kitchen area, a bowl of fresh fruit sat on the breakfast bar next to a bucket with champagne and two flutes. An apple sat on the counter close to the sink with two or three bites missing. Blake searched the drawers for a baggie. Finding a box of them, he turned one inside out so he could pick up the apple without touching it. Gingerly, he sniffed it and carefully examined the perfectly ripe fruit for any sign of foul play before he zipped it closed as though it were an evidence bag.

  Blake stuffed a few more baggies into his shorts pocket as he moved around the room. Hand-cut crystal glasses stood upside down on a silver tray that sat atop a wet bar. He checked out the shelved selections and saw several bottles of scotch with an obvious gap. Next to an ice bucket sat Duke’s favorite single malt with at least two shots missing. Blake would have taken a sample of the ice except he knew the man preferred his scotch neat. No ice sample was needed.

  A quick scan of every flat surface came back negative. As Blake looked at the limp body on the floor, he observed the short glass on its side about one foot from Duke’s outstretched arm. He was there in three long strides.

  Kneeling down, Blake noticed the small brownish puddle that had seeped through the Oriental rug. He had no idea how much scotch Duke could have consumed, but he had seen the man down several in one hour and walk away without staggering. Slipping the plastic bag over his hand, Blake picked up the glass and sniffed.

  Some of the world’s finest whiskey blended with just a hint of something tart. Instantly on alert he held the glass out toward Ryleigh. “Smell this and tell me what you think.”

  She slowly inhaled then winced. “What is that?”

  “Haven’t a clue,” he admitted. He stood and brought her over the bottle. “Close your eyes and smell this.”

  She did as he asked then opened her eyes. “Okay, I got that smell from the glass but there was something else.”

  “Yeah, definitely something else,” he agreed. He sniffed the glass one more time before securing it. Checking, the other three glasses smelled the same so he bagged those as well.

  “Okay, are you sure it’s all right?” Ella said into the portable phone as she emerged from the bedroom.

  “Yes. Give it to him now.” The heavily-accented British voice could easily be heard through the cabana phone.

  Ella took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she uncapped one of the two tubes she held in her hand. Fisting the long cylinder, she kneeled down next to her husband’s hip and s
tared at his long thigh as though measuring it.

  Before Blake could offer to help, she jabbed the epinephrine pen into the side of Duke’s thigh. As taught in combat first aid, Blake counted to three along with Ella before she lifted the device which immediately covered the needle in plastic. She stood and walked toward the kitchen, carefully holding the device that once held the lifesaving medication.

  “It usually gives me relief within a few minutes,” she told the person on the phone. Nodding her head, she stared at her watch. “Okay. How soon can you be here?” There was a long pause before she sighed heavily. “I’ll see you then.”

  She clicked the phone off and melted to the floor next to her husband’s head. Tenderly, she brushed the hair off his forehead. Without looking at Blake or Ryleigh, she explained, “The doctor was at the far end of the island tending to a guest who had a run in with some fire coral while diving, so he can’t get here for another fifteen to twenty minutes.”

  “I don’t remember Duke’s file mentioning any allergies?” Blake said in an accusatory tone.

  Ella leaned over and placed her lips on her husband’s forehead. “He doesn’t have any.” She lifted her head and held Blake’s stare. “But I do. I’m highly allergic to shellfish. Unfortunately, seafood is one of my favorites. I rarely order it when we’re out for fear that shrimp or scallops had been cooked in the same pan. Just that minor contact is enough for my tongue to swell and my throat close.” She gave a self-deprecating smile. “Not a pretty sight, I can assure you.”

  Ryleigh looked up at Blake. “His heartbeat is already stronger.”

  “I’m supposed to wait five minutes and count his heart beats for one minute before I call the doctor back.” She lifted the other injectable vile. “He may need this one, too.”

  He might need even more care than what was available on the island. Blake slipped his sat phone out of his pocket to report in to Guardian Security. They hadn’t even been on the goddamned island for thirty minutes and an attempt was already made on Duke’s life. This trip was obviously not the best kept secret.