“But why would he be hanging out with a lowlife like you?”
Alex laughed softly. “Unlike some people, whose view of me seems pretty tainted, Louis knew he could trust me. My job was to organize our trip out of the Congo. We were a good team.”
She looked at him. Even in the dim light, she could see an expression on his face that seemed thoughtful, even sad. But he was an actor—and a scoundrel. “What kind of documents?” she asked skeptically.
“That’s highly classified,” Alex answered.
“What a surprise,” she said sarcastically.
“I can tell you a part of it, and you can believe me or not.” His voice was even lower, and she had to strain just to hear him.
“Louis learned that insurgents within the Congo are plotting to destabilize French oil interests in the country. Terrorist attacks, that kind of thing. It could bring economic and social chaos. The documents tell the whole story, and with Louis dead, I need to get them out of the country and into the right hands. Fast.”
She was watching him intently, not so cynical now. He was close, Alex thought. He almost had her.
“So why didn’t he just fly from Brazzaville to Paris? Surely that would have been easier than trekking through the jungle depending on Pygmies—”
“Not so loud,” he warned her, buying a little time to frame an answer.
She looked toward the office where the music continued. “No one can hear us over the music, and the man doesn’t understand English.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. His English is excellent.”
“All right,” she said softly. “What about the airport as a way out?”
“It was being watched by the other side, Dana. Louis had powerful enemies. We’d hoped this river cruise would be the perfect cover. He’d stay at the hotel a few days, like a ordinary tourist. Then one night, we’d just take off. Obviously someone knew he had the documents and followed him.”
“You mean someone on the boat—at the hotel—could be in the pay of the insurgents?”
“Any one of them,” Alex answered. “They were all in Brazzaville with Louis. One of them could have caught on to what he was doing—”
“Or maybe,” Dana interrupted with another thought, “whoever killed Louis wanted the papers for himself. Are they worth money?”
Alex nodded. “To the French government as well as to the insurgents.”
“Where are the documents now?”
“Louis hid them in Father Theroux’s luggage on the trip and then passed them to me. I have them.”
Suddenly, Louis’s behavior on the Queen made sense. He’d been protecting the documents. She looked sharply at Alex. “Maybe once you had the papers in your hands, you killed him.”
“And left myself without a guide to get me the hell out of this place? No, I’m not that stupid, Dana. I needed Louis, and I never wanted him dead. He was my friend,” Alex added.
“But someone on that boat murdered him. I gather you don’t think it was me?”
Alex shrugged.
“Then who? Betty, Yassif, Millie, Father Theroux.” She ran through the names quickly. “Longongo! He works for the government; he’d have inside information.”
She was wavering now, wanting to believe. He applied more pressure. “Unlike you, I don’t have time to play detective. I’m leaving tonight. With the documents. If you come with me, the trip will be easier and faster.” He leaned closer, his voice a seductive whisper. “In a week, we could be in Nairobi.”
It sounded insane to her, taking off through the jungle with a man who was untrustworthy at best and a killer at worst. A dark thought played in her mind. Maybe he wanted her dead! Maybe he’d break her out of jail just to kill her. “I don’t know—”
“If you stay here, the situation is hopeless,” Alex said flatly. “For one thing, Louis’s killer might come after you. Have you thought of that?”
Dana shrank back against the wall of her damp, dank cell. She hadn’t thought of it, and the possibility was frightening.
“If not the killer, one of the guards. Victor is the best of the bunch, but a couple of the others are nothing but thugs.”
She had thought about that; it was just about all she’d thought about since Kantana put her in the cell. Victor was bad enough. Now she learned there were others even worse. She tried to grasp a semblance of hope. “Millie is going to get in touch with the American Embassy in Brazzaville, and someone there will call my brothers—” She struggled to keep her voice calm.
“Has Millie put in the call yet?”
“Well, no. The radio on the boat is down. Or something. She’s trying. I think.” Dana’s words proved her despair.
“Don’t hold your breath,” Alex said. “Who knows when the radio will be repaired? They’re still waiting for engine parts. So the radio is low priority. Once she does reach the embassy, if that ever happens, it’ll take days for your brothers to get here. As you know, it’s a hell of a long trip up the Congo to Porte Ivoire. A lot can happen in that time, Dana. You can rot here in jail, alone. I expect you’ve heard about tourists jailed in foreign countries. Some of them stay locked up for years.”
“But this is different. I’m innocent!”
“Maybe.”
“Alex, you said yourself—”
“Did I? I don’t remember committing to your innocence.”
He was right. When she’d declared her innocence, he’d just shrugged. But Dana had been so intent upon naming the real killer that she’d forged ahead, not noticing.
“Kantana is sure you’re guilty. And if you are, I’m taking a hell of a chance making this offer.”
“I’m not guilty, and I don’t understand why no one believes me.”
“Why should they? They don’t know a damned thing about you except you seem to have an inordinate interest in Pygmies—and their methods of killing.”
“You bastard,” she said through clenched teeth. “You know damned well that I didn’t kill Louis.”
“Maybe you’re innocent, and maybe you’re not. But I’m the bastard who can get you out of here. Just think, Dana. Within a week you and I could be in Nairobi where there’re great hotels. With hot water. Bathtubs. Thick, thick towels. Room service.”
Dana’s head pounded, and she rubbed her temples with the tips of her fingers. A week. Only a week, and she could be free of this nightmare. It could take that long before Millie even got through to the embassy. More delay before Dana’s brothers arrived. Anything could happen to her during a week’s time. She was vulnerable. Alone.
Yet she was afraid of Alex, too. His story was too glib and well thought out. She could imagine Louis being an agent, but Alex...
“Why do you give a damn about the documents?” she asked. “You don’t seem any more patriotic than you are altruistic.”
“I’ll be well paid for my troubles. Money is a powerful motivator.”
That made sense to Dana; that sounded like Alex.
“But I need you. I need your help with those damned Pygmies.” His voice was low, pleading. “Please, Dana. For both of us. I swear I’ll take care of you. I won’t hurt you.”
“The sergeant took all my notes.” She could feel herself weakening.
“I’ll get them,” he said. “It’ll only take a minute for me to handle Victor.”
She panicked. “Stop. I didn’t say for sure—”
“There’s really no choice, Dana. You know it. I know it.” He gave her a long, meaningful look. “Remember, I told you in the garden that I was waiting for you.”
Dana felt the hairs along her neck prickle. He was waiting for her. Just as, in some unexplainable way, she’d been waiting for him. No, she told herself. She wouldn’t accept that this was preordained. It was a nightmare, not a fantasy come to life. “Wait. I’m not sure, I—”
He was gone.
Dana rushed to the door of her cell. She heard the music. Nothing else. Then, suddenly, there were voices, the sound of a scuffle. What if
Victor overpowered Alex—and then took his anger out on her? What had she gotten herself into? She clutched the bars of her cell so tightly that her nails dug into her palms.
There was a loud crash. Then the music stopped. Everything was quiet. She hung on to the bars and waited. Footsteps headed toward her down the hall. She squinted into the darkness but could see nothing. Perspiration dripped down her forehead. She clung to the bars, paralyzed.
Then Alex appeared. He was carrying a canvas satchel. He dropped it on the floor. “Your Pygmy notes, safe and sound.” He unlocked the cell and pushed open the door.
Dana hesitated.
Alex reached through the door and grasped her arm. “Come on. We need to be on our way before sunrise.”
She took a step forward and then stopped.
“Dana. Think about the alternative.”
She’d already thought about it, and there was no choice. He was right. She stepped through the open cell door and followed him down the hall. They passed Victor, who lay on the floor, eyes closed, wrists handcuffed behind him. She stopped, looking down. But Alex pulled her along with him. “He won’t be out long. I didn’t hurt him.”
They pushed through the sagging screen door and onto the street. Dana had time for one long breath of fresh air before Alex hustled her into a Jeep. “We make a quick trip to the hotel for your gear. Then we’re on our way.”
She sat beside him in the Jeep, not really believing what had happened. But it was too late to change her mind. For good or ill, she and Alex Jourdan were in this together.
Chapter Four
Alex stopped the Jeep in the shadows of a giant gum tree. The hotel and all its inhabitants appeared to be locked in a deep slumber. Only one faint light gleamed from an upstairs window.
“Do you suppose Sergeant Kantana left a guard?” Dana whispered.
Alex’s lips twisted in a grin. “I suppose not.”
“What gives you that—”
“Dana, trust me. There’re no police on duty here. They’re occupied elsewhere tonight. Kantana is at home with his family, our friend Victor is—well, you know where he is. The other two are out with their girlfriends. No one is guarding the hotel. Why should they? The prime suspect is supposedly behind bars.”
“Then let’s go inside,” Dana said with what she hoped was enthusiasm.
“We’ll have to make it fast,” Alex warned. “Grab what you need—a change of clothes and antimalaria pills, antibiotics, painkillers—”
“You make this trip sound delightful.”
“It’s good sense to be prepared.”
Dana shot him an amused look. While Alex Jourdan might be prepared, he was far from being a Boy Scout!
As Dana reached for the door handle, Alex put a restraining hand on her arm. “We still need to be careful. Anyone could see you and turn you back in to Kantana.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll sneak quietly up to my room, fill my backpack and return here before you’ve finished getting your stuff.”
“I’ve already finished,” he told her. “The tents, supplies, food are in the back of the Jeep. So I’ll keep you company.”
She climbed out of the Jeep. “That’s not necessary.”
“Oh, yes, it is,” he replied. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.” He leaned close and whispered in her ear, “For instance, you might decide to make a run for the mission.”
“No, I—” she began.
“And if you did, Father Theroux would probably give you sanctuary. Nope, we’re sticking close to each other from now on.” As he spoke the words, he leaned close for emphasis.
With a sigh, Dana followed him. Her mind was hard at work as they furtively crossed the garden, and when they reached the stairs that led to the second-floor balcony, she knew her plans were shot down. Of course, he’d been right. It had certainly crossed her mind to try to escape and run to Father Theroux. Whether or not she would have put the thought to action, Dana didn’t know. Now she’d never find out. Alex’s grip on her arm was firm. There was no breaking away.
She could call out and awaken someone. But if that person turned out to be Betty or Yassif or Longongo she’d be back at square one. Except this time Kantana would have no doubt of her guilt.
So unless something unforeseen happened, she and Alex were going to be a couple, no matter how ill-matched.
* * *
“HURRY UP,” Alex ordered. “You’re taking too long.”
“What do you expect?” she retorted in a whisper. “I’m trying to pack in the dark.” She crouched in front of her suitcase, transferring belongings into a backpack, while he waited impatiently at the door to her hotel room.
She clumsily stuffed the last few items in the pack just as Alex decided he’d waited long enough.
“We’re leaving now,” he said. “Grab everything, and let’s go.”
Dana did as he ordered, stood up quickly, headed to the door—and bumped into a table. She reached out to steady it, but too late. The carved leopard she’d bought in the market slid off the table to the floor. To Dana the sound was deafening.
“Dammit,” Alex cursed under his breath. “What’re you doing?”
“It was an accident,” she shot back as she replaced the leopard. “I’m ready now.”
“Too late,” Alex muttered as he reached out and grabbed her. “I hear Betty.” He pulled her into the closet.
Dana started to object before she realized he was right. Betty was on the balcony, talking to her boyfriend. “Did you hear that, Yassif—a noise in Dana’s room!”
Dana felt her heart pounding rapidly, like a frightened deer. Betty and Yassif—the two people she wanted most to avoid.
Alex’s arm tightened around her waist as he held her close, grasping her so tightly that she couldn’t move. Suddenly her fear was superceded by something else—the physical aspect of her situation. Their bodies were thrust close together, her face against his shoulder, her breasts pushed into his chest, her hips angled into his. She was vividly aware of his lean strength, the power of his arms, the way he held her, making her feel slight and small. And powerless.
The darkness of the closet was thick, impenetrable, intensifying every movement, every sensation. Alex’s breathing, quick and hard, melded with her own. She was enveloped by the warmth of his body; it merged with hers. In the darkness, she couldn’t be sure where he ended and she began. Overpowering fear merged with incredible desire, and both raced in her blood.
Alex could feel Dana’s heart, thudding wildly against his chest, racing a mile a minute. She was scared as hell—and she should be. He wasn’t thrilled over the situation himself, trapped in the closet with only one way out. But if he had to take on Yassif, he would.
That wasn’t the entire problem, Alex realized as he forced himself to take slow, long breaths and concentrate on what was happening between Betty and her lover—not what was happening to his body, glued against Dana’s.
It was a losing battle.
His shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his chest, and her breasts were soft and firm pressed against him. The agonizing touch of her nipples, taut against his bare skin, was more than he bargained for. But that couldn’t compare with what was happening lower down where one of her legs was wedged against his thigh. He tried to ignore his body’s reaction. But he couldn’t ignore Dana, her accelerated breathing, her hair tickling his chin, and most of all the lush fullness of her body in his arms.
Betty’s voice reached them through the crack in the balcony door. Alex tensed and gave her his full attention. She was very close, just outside, and her words were clear and precise as she called out to Yassif.
“Maybe the noise wasn’t from this room, but I still think we ought to check.”
Yassif responded, sleepy and uninterested. And barely understandable. His first words were a jumble of languages. Then he yelled in English, “What? What?”
“I thought I heard something, darling.”
“Is nothing,” he answered. “
Come back to bed.”
“Maybe—” she began.
Alex held his breath. Damn the woman. He’d never known her to refuse an invitation to bed. He tightened his grip and prayed Dana wouldn’t break yet. One sound could alert Betty. Seconds seemed like hours.
“Maybe you’re right,” Betty said finally to Yassif. “It could be a rat setting off a trap. This place is crawling with rodents.”
Alex felt Dana relax against him, but he held her fast. They were far from safe.
Then Betty laughed, low and seductive. “There’re better ways to spend the night than snooping about, my love.”
Yassif’s low grunt was followed by the sound of the balcony door closing. Alex didn’t move. Dana tried to pull away from him, but he held tightly onto her. They would move when he was ready.
Then he was ready. And he didn’t want to let her go. He wondered if the darkness and danger had affected her as it had him. He felt energized, alive, as if he’d run a race—and won. They’d been close to the edge, close to getting caught, but they’d made it together.
Dana’s lips were only inches away in the darkness. He thought of kissing her, a long, hard kiss of victory, before they set out into the unknown. What would her lips taste like? He could find out very easily by bending down, taking her face in his hands, pressing his mouth to hers...
Dana couldn’t understand why Alex wouldn’t let her go. Betty and Yassif had returned to their room. It seemed safe, but he still held on to her, and his arms felt less like those of a captor than a lover.
She responded to the feeling as awareness flooded through her, wild and hot. His lean body insinuated itself even closer. Her skin against his felt flushed and hot. She drew a long shaky breath. This wasn’t supposed to happen, she thought frantically, not feelings like this. Not with Alex Jourdan. She needed distance. And time. She needed light and air.
“You can let me go now,” she whispered
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