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by Suzanne Brockmann


  “Don’t be mad.” The words were spoken softly from directly behind him. The voice could belong to only one person.

  Cal turned around to face her. “Kayla, what the hell—”

  “You can’t be mad, because here he comes.” She looked over his shoulder and smiled at the man approaching them.

  Cal was furious. He should have known she wouldn’t do what he’d told her to. He didn’t know what he’d been thinking. Follow instructions? Stay out of danger? He should have known she’d pull some stunt like this.

  How could she knowingly put herself in danger? Didn’t she know that there were no odds good enough to make him want to risk her life? Didn’t she know that the thought of her thrown into one of San Salustiano’s barbaric prisons was enough to turn his blood to ice.

  No. She didn’t know. She didn’t realize it, because he’d tried—and succeeded—in convincing her that he didn’t give a damn.

  She took his hand and held on tightly. “You need me,” she told him softly, “whether or not you know it.”

  He knew it. He knew it all too well. But there was no time to try to tell her that, no time to talk. Vásquez was upon them.

  “Let us walk,” he said as a way of greeting. “Down by the water.”

  They walked in silence, Kayla still holding tightly to Cal’s hand, until they were well out of range of listening ears.

  “Thank you so much for coming to talk to us,” Kayla said before Cal could speak. Her voice shook as if she were holding back tears, and sure enough, her eyes were filled. Whether it was fear or some other emotion, she was entirely convincing. “I asked Cal to give you a call because, well, to be honest, we didn’t know where else to turn.”

  “I am honored you would trust me enough to come to me,” Vásquez murmured.

  “Cal didn’t want to,” Kayla told him, “but I talked him into it. You see, we’ve received word that Cal’s brother is still alive.”

  Cal watched Vásquez’s face as Kayla fed him the entire story. The midnight contact from mysterious people who had a photo of Liam. The pilotless airplane waiting at one of three possible mountain airstrips. Their assigned task of finding a pilot, and waiting at a contact point with that pilot for a taxi to pick them up. Then and only then would they be told Liam’s whereabouts and the location of the plane. The plan was to time it just right and leave at dusk, vanishing into the darkness of the night.

  The man didn’t blink, didn’t twitch, didn’t give any guilty jumps or starts.

  “We need a pilot,” Kayla told him. “We need someone who can fly a small plane to take us all off the island, and we need him soon. We’re supposed to meet the taxi in front of the hotel in less than an hour. This man must not carry a weapon or be wired for surveillance in any way, because the people who have Liam are dangerous and very suspicious. Please, can you help us?”

  “What you are asking me to do might be seen by some as a very serious crime against my country,” he said solemnly. He drew in a deep breath and looked at Cal. “However. I will help you. You must promise me in return that when your brother regains his health he is allowed to return to our island to help negotiate a peaceful understanding between the opposition and the current government.”

  Cal shook hands with the devil as he lied, “I promise.”

  “You will have your pilot,” Vásquez promised in return. “He will meet you in half an hour in front of the hotel.”

  Kayla was silent as they approached the small airplane.

  So far everything had gone smoothly.

  The pilot had arrived at the hotel, and the three of them had gotten into a taxi that took them deep into the twisting, turning narrow roads of Puerto Norte. They had switched cars more times than Kayla could count in an attempt to lose anyone who might be tailing them. Somewhere down the line, the pilot had been temporarily put to sleep with a well-aimed blow to the side of his head.

  Armando had traded clothes with the man. With a baseball cap pulled down over his eyes, he looked enough like the pilot from a distance. At least, they hoped he did. The pilot, interestingly enough, had been carrying his own parachute. Armando suspected he’d been ordered by Vásquez to flush the fuel tanks and exit the plane, leaving the Bartlett brothers and Kayla Grey alone on a plane destined to plunge into the sea.

  But it wasn’t going to happen that way.

  Cal was going to fly the plane, and Vásquez was going to let them leave, thinking their deaths were guaranteed.

  It was only a matter of minutes now before they met Marisala and Liam at the plane.

  The jungle road opened up into the sudden brightness of a tiny clearing that must have been the airfield. Kayla could see another car, bumping and jostling too as it moved swiftly across the field, heading toward a small battered-looking airplane that had been covered with a camouflage tarp. She reached across the backseat and touched Cal’s hand.

  The look he gave her told her much more than she was sure he’d intended. She wondered if he could see her own fear as completely. She wondered if he could tell just from looking into her eyes that she loved him.

  He glanced away from her, out the window at the other approaching car. Liam was in there. He looked back at her. “Don’t tell him.”

  Kayla knew exactly what he was talking about. He didn’t want her to tell Liam that she’d slept with Cal. She pulled her hand away. “I have to. You don’t think I’d just never tell—”

  “I meant not right away. Don’t tell him right away. Let’s wait until he’s been checked by a doctor. Wait until we know he’s okay.”

  She nodded.

  “Thanks.” The car jerked to a stop, and Cal threw the door open. Four or five men she didn’t recognize swarmed over the plane, removing the tarp, readying it for takeoff.

  Kayla knew they had to do this quickly. One of the men reached into the car for their luggage. Another took her arm, helping her up and into the rickety-looking airplane.

  She could see Liam as Marisala helped him out of the other car, his golden hair gleaming in the sun. She watched Cal embrace him, watched him effortlessly take Liam into his arms, watched Liam reach back to touch Marisala’s hand one last time.

  And then Cal carried Liam into the plane. God, he was so skinny and his hair was so long. He was weeping, and Kayla realized that she was crying too.

  Cal set Liam down next to her, and she pulled him into her arms. He met her eyes for only a fraction of a second before he settled into the pilot’s seat and started the engine. It was only the briefest of moments, but it had been long enough to tell her all she needed to know.

  The iceman was back. Cal was giving away no more secrets with his eyes.

  The plane rattled and shook as it raced down the bumpy little airstrip, but Cal pulled it up and into the sky. He swung out, directly over the ocean, away from the mountains, away from the city of Puerto Norte.

  “Hey, Mike.” Liam smiled at her through his tears.

  “Hey, Bartlett.” Her own smile was just as soggy.

  “I guess you met my brother.”

  Kayla nodded. Yes, she’d met his brother.

  15

  Insignificant.

  The word was following Kayla around, popping into her head when she least expected it.

  She’d been back to work for nearly four weeks now. She would have thought the hurt would have begun to fade.

  It hadn’t.

  But life went on, and her life was no exception. She was busy. She made a point to be busy. Too busy to think—except when unwanted thoughts popped into her head.

  Liam was hard at work on a book based on his experiences in the jungles of San Salustiano. He’d already written a series of articles for the Boston Globe that had created quite a stir. He was living in a tiny apartment in Back Bay, his furniture and possessions pulled out of storage. Cal hadn’t thrown anything of Liam’s away. Cal hadn’t even sold his brother’s town house—but it was rented to a tenant who held a lease until December.

  Cal
had helped Liam find this place, helped him move his stuff in, made sure his brother was well on the road to good health.

  And then Cal had returned to his ranch in Montana.

  He hadn’t even said good-bye to Kayla. Or maybe he had. Maybe that long look and that nod he gave her the last time she saw him had been his way of saying So long, it’s been fun.

  Kayla trudged up the stairs to Liam’s second floor apartment, wondering why she’d agreed to meet him there. They’d spoken often and at great length since Liam’s stay in the San Juan Hospital, since they’d taken him off San Salustiano. Liam had apologized to her for making her wait so long before accepting her refusal of his marriage proposal. It had taken only one smile for him to acknowledge what she’d known all those long months ago—they were, and always would remain, friends and only friends.

  Liam had told her about the San Salustiano prison. He’d told her terrible things, awful things, and she knew he hadn’t told her everything. But that was okay. She was still keeping secrets from him. After all, she’d made a promise to Cal.

  Cal.

  The last time she’d seen Cal, he’d been here. His shirt had been off in the warm autumn sunshine as he’d carried boxes of Liam’s books up this very flight of stairs.

  Insignificant.

  Why hadn’t she challenged him? Why hadn’t she thrown that word back in his face? Why hadn’t she kissed him with all the passion in her heart and soul and dared him to use that word again after reminding him of what they had done, what they had felt, what they had shared?

  Okay, so maybe for Cal it had been nothing more than great sex. Maybe love didn’t have anything to do with what he’d felt when he’d held her in his arms that night. But whatever it had been, it hadn’t been insignificant.

  Liam opened the door before she was even halfway up the stairs. He had gained some weight and was walking with only the aid of a cane, but his hair was still long—a souvenir from his trip to hell. He wore it back in a loose ponytail.

  “Gee, can you take any longer to climb up here?” he asked, looking down over the railing at her.

  “I’m tired,” she said. “I can’t seem to catch up on the work I missed all those weeks I was away.”

  “Funny, Cal said almost the exact same thing.”

  “You spoke to Cal?” Kayla couldn’t hide the longing in her voice, and Liam gave her a long, appraising look.

  “Last night.” He followed her into his apartment and closed the door behind him with his foot, then led the way into the kitchen. “We talked last night. He sounds like crap. Kind of like the way you sounded when I called you this morning. Tired and angry for no apparent reason. Coffee?”

  He held out a mug and Kayla shook her head. He poured himself a cup from his coffee machine and leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping it and watching her over the rim.

  “He told me what happened between you guys in San Salustiano,” he said quietly. “He told me he slept with you, Mike.”

  She met his gaze levelly. “I didn’t tell you because he asked me to wait to talk to you until he did. I figured as soon as he said something, you’d tell me and we could talk.”

  “He didn’t say much about it, just that it happened and that he wanted me to know. In fact, he seemed kind of surprised that I didn’t already know.”

  Kayla had to smile at that. “I don’t think he expected me to do what he asked and not tell you.”

  Liam grinned. “Guess he got to know you pretty well, huh?”

  She sat down at his kitchen table and fidgeted with the salt and pepper shakers. “Remember how I told you I was afraid I’d never be able to be intimate with anyone ever again?” she asked. “And remember how you told me I would know when the time was right?”

  “Yeah,” Liam said. “I guess the time was right, huh?”

  “No. It wasn’t about timing at all. It was about who I was with. It was about Cal, about the way I felt about him.”

  Liam put down his coffee mug, his movements quick and impatient—so different from Cal’s seemingly slow and careful gestures. “The way you felt. Are you going to be more specific, Mike, or should I start to guess?”

  “Love,” she said, knowing she couldn’t hide anything from Liam. Sooner or later, he would guess. “I fell in love with your brother, Li.”

  “I’m devastated.” He sounded anything but. “Here I’ve just gone and spent two years in the jungle pining away for you…”

  “You’ve spent the past four weeks pining,” Kayla said astutely. “My guess is you’re not missing the jungle or the prison in the mountains. So let’s see…What does that leave? A woman?”

  “You want the awful truth?”

  “The whole truth and nothing but,” she said.

  “God, it’s embarrassing to say it out loud, it sounds so sleazy, but…” He took a deep breath. “There was a San Salustiano girl I had this incredible thing for, and don’t go all feminist on me for using the word girl, because that was what she was. A girl, Mike. A little kid. When I first met her, she was only fifteen. Fifteen. She turned seventeen a few months ago—man, seventeen’s hardly any better.”

  “Marisala,” Kayla guessed.

  “Bingo. I taught her to speak English. You don’t want to know what I wanted to teach her…. But I didn’t touch her, I didn’t even kiss her, not even once. I was a monk, Mike, I swear. Madre de Dios, I hope she’s all right. You should see her use an AK-47. She’s…amazing.” Liam’s voice got softer. “I’m worried sick about her.”

  “Do you love her?”

  “Hell, I don’t know. All I know is she saved my life more than once. I owe her, Mike, bigtime.”

  They were both silent for a moment, then Kayla spoke. “Liam, about Cal…”

  “Yeah?”

  “He doesn’t know…you know…that I love him.” Her voice faltered. “And I think his feelings aren’t exactly mutual.”

  Liam sat down across from her at the table. “Mike, let me tell you a thing or two about my brother.”

  Insignificant.

  Dust rose up in the rearview mirror of the rental car as Kayla turned down the long drive that led to the Bartlett ranch.

  Her heart was in her throat. This was definitely the most foolish thing she’d ever done.

  What exactly was she going to say to Cal? But, hey, she’d come this far before to try to save Liam’s life. It was only fitting she should make the same effort for her own life.

  And then she was there. She pulled up in front of the ranch house, parking alongside Cal’s truck. She could see Thor standing on the porch, watching her, ears alert, checking her out. The dog gave a single bark, turning to look over his shoulder at the house before returning his full attention to Kayla.

  She climbed out of the car and stood looking over the top as Cal opened the screen and stepped onto the porch.

  He didn’t say anything. He just gazed at her. God, he looked so good, dressed in his jeans and cowboy boots. His dark hair was damp with sweat and dented where he’d worn his hat, probably during the long hours he’d worked that morning.

  “Hi,” she said. It wasn’t a brilliant opener, but it was the best she could manage under the circumstances.

  He leaned one shoulder up against one of the columns that held up the porch roof, his flinty blue eyes appraising her coolly.

  “Do you think,” he said in his gentle western drawl, “that if I call the airline right back, they’ll let me cancel my reservation on tonight’s flight to Boston without making me pay the penalty?”

  Kayla’s heart was in her throat. “You were coming to Boston? Tonight?”

  He nodded. “Damn, but I am glad to see you.” His voice broke slightly, so slightly, Kayla was left wondering if she’d imagined it. But she wasn’t imagining the fact that he’d pushed himself forward, off the porch, and was now walking toward her, his long legs quickly covering the ground between them.

  She moved too, and then the waiting was over. She was in his arms. He was glad t
o see her. Coming to him wasn’t the most foolish thing she’d ever done.

  His mouth landed firmly on hers and she lost herself in the sweetness of his kiss. But only temporarily. Instead of holding him close, she pushed him away.

  He tried to pull her close again, but she pushed him away again, refusing to be sidetracked. She lifted her chin and looked him in the eye. “Insignificant wasn’t the word I would’ve used to describe that night.”

  He had to laugh. “Don’t tell me you came all this way just to tell me that.”

  “I love you,” she told him. “And it wasn’t insignificant.”

  His eyes looked warm, and so impossibly vulnerable as he looked back at her. “I know,” he said softly. “I don’t know why you love me, but…I don’t give a damn why anymore. You know, in my life, I can count on one hand the things I’ve done purely because I wanted to do ’em.” He touched her face, running his fingers through her hair. “One of those things was making love to you. And you’re right. It wasn’t insignificant, hell, it was everything and anything but. I was just trying to make it easier for you to walk away by telling you that.”

  “I may have walked, but I went in a full circle, because here I am again.” Kayla had tears in her eyes, and she didn’t wipe them away. She didn’t care if he saw them.

  Because there were tears in his eyes too. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Here you are, aren’t you?” He kissed her again.

  “Were you really coming to Boston?”

  “I couldn’t stay away.”

  She held him tightly. “Why did you leave?”

  “I thought it would be best—”

  “Best for whom? Not me. And certainly not you.”

  Cal nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “It wasn’t best for me.” He smiled ruefully. “It’s kind of hard to break the habit, but I was going to fly into Boston tonight and come banging on your door at four o’clock in the morning. How’s that for doing something purely for me?”

  “I would have loved it.”

  “I was going to sweep you off your feet the second you answered the door and tell you that I love you,” he continued.

 

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