I frowned as my phone rang with an unknown number. The larger part of me just wanted to leave it to go to voicemail, annoyed to have had my thoughts interrupted, but then what if it was news on her mystery stalker.
‘Castle,’ I answered.
‘Hi, it’s Alex. Alex Bishop, the artist.’ Her voice was like a balm to my injured soul and I swallowed hard as I closed my eyes and luxuriated in her dulcet tone.
‘Alex, what can I do for you?’ I asked, trying not to allow the fact that her call had just made my goddamned day come across in my voice.
‘Is this a bad time? I know it’s very early and you sound as if I’ve just interrupted something.’
‘Not at all, I’m extremely happy to hear from you,’ I expelled in a rush, then grimaced. One minute I obviously sounded too detached in my response, now I was falling over myself with enthusiasm. ‘What can I do for you?’ I repeated, trying to push the frankly dirty thoughts of what she could do for me from my mind.
‘Well, first of all I’d like to thank you for your purchases. You’ve made my sales assistants, and me, very happy, though it looks like I have to get back to work sooner than anticipated to build up my collection of original pieces for sale.’
‘You’re welcome. I told you that I was an admirer of your work and I meant it. As it seems I’m not going to be able to convince you to create some originals of my own coastal vistas, buying all of your current pieces was my only alternative.’
‘I hadn’t said no to your offer.’
‘You hadn’t said yes.’
‘It’s not even been forty-eight hours,’ she replied, with a slightly stunned tone to her voice.
‘What can I say, I’m not used to waiting for an answer when I make someone a business offer. Did you only call me to thank me, or have you changed your mind about my proposition?’
‘Both, I guess.’
‘You’ll do some commissions for me?’ I sat up straighter in my seat, noticing that my pulse had lost its steady rhythm at the thought of spending more time with her.
‘I have some conditions.’
‘Name them,’ I stated, hardly able to stop the smile from playing on my lips at the adorable sound of nervousness in her voice. Alex Bishop wasn’t used to negotiating.
‘Unrestricted access to your therapist.’
Well that was easy, I’d already offered her that. ‘Done.’
‘What’s discussed in our sessions remains confidential.’
‘I sincerely hope it would. If I discovered she was disclosing information gleaned in my sessions with her, I’d have her fired and discredited.’
‘If at any stage I don’t feel comfortable with anything, you allow me to leave, no questions asked and I waive my rights to any payment.’
Now that request was intriguing. It seemed my assessment that her trust would have to be earned was correct. ‘Done. What else?’
‘You respect my privacy when I’m working or off duty.’
My privacy was something that would be on my list of conditions for her stay, but I wasn’t discussing those until she’d arrived. I didn’t want to give her any reason to change her mind. ‘Agreed.’
‘And just to be very clear, this is a business arrangement only, I’m not looking to make this personal.’
‘And by personal, you mean?’ I sat back in my seat as a mischievous smile spread across my face. Just the thought of seeing her again had lifted my mood considerably.
‘You know what I mean.’
‘I’m afraid I don’t, maybe you could spell it out for me, Alex.’
‘I’m not looking to become one of your conquests between the sheets.’
‘I don’t use sheets, it can get pretty hot in my bedroom. Scorching in fact.’
‘Now you’re teasing me again.’
‘Actually, I’m not. Read my statement whichever way you see fit, but I told you before that I don’t chase a woman who doesn’t want chasing.’
‘Then you’re giving out mixed signals, Mr. Castle, as you’re pretty persistent for a man who doesn’t chase.’
‘You intrigue me, Miss Bishop, but right now I want you for your artistic skills more than I’d like you in my bed.’ I was pretty confident that I’d just told a barefaced lie, which didn’t exactly sit comfortably with me, and judging from the derisive snort I heard down the phone, it seemed as though I hadn’t convinced her either. ‘Okay, in the spirit of honesty, maybe since I met you my priorities are shifting. But I can promise you that unless you give me a clear indication that you want me to persue you, your virtue will be safe.’
‘Promises can be broken.’ She said it so quietly, in such a pained tone, that I winced. What the fuck had happened to her?
‘Not mine, you can trust me, Alex. I’d never force myself on a woman. The biggest turn on for me is seeing how much a woman wants me.’
‘That’s the problem, I’m not sure I can trust anyone, and that has everything to do with me, and nothing to do with you.’
‘I’m sure that’s something that Ester will work on with you.’
‘Ester?’
‘My therapist. So you’ll come?’ I was met with a heavy sigh and a moment of silence, that I had to force myself not to fill.
‘Yes, I’ll come,’ she finally said, making me release a breath that I wasn’t even aware I’d been holding.
‘Can I ask what changed your mind?’
‘I need to escape London for a while, and the truth is that your offer couldn’t have come at a more perfect time,’ she said, making me frown. Part of me had hoped that I had something to do with it, that this insane attraction I felt towards her wasn’t one sided. I’d been so sure that night we met that it wasn’t, on the other hand I’d been so emotionally detached with women since Imogen died, maybe I just didn’t know how to read the signs anymore.
‘I’ll have my assistant Geoff get you on the next available flight, then arrange transportation to the airport for you. I’d suggest, if you haven’t already, that you pack immediately. If you don’t have clothes suitable to the climate, you can buy them when you get here, and don’t worry about luggage allowances. I’ll cover it all.’
After answering a few of her questions, we said our goodbyes and I hung up and took a deep breath. I really hadn’t expected her to agree to come. I sent Sarah, who’d flown ahead of me as planned yesterday morning, a text to let her know to make up the beach house for a guest. Then another message to my assistant to ask him to contact Alex for all of her details so that he could arrange the next available flight. I’d barely pressed send when Davis’s number flashed up on screen.
‘What’s happened?’ I answered.
‘We got a hit off the photograph, or rather Mr. Davenport’s team did.’
‘And?’ I demanded.
‘It’s a Richard King. Aged forty-one. Former Wall Street trader, working out of Washington D.C. Criminal conviction. Just finished a five year prison term.’
‘What for? Financial fraud?’
‘No. The files are being emailed over to you now, sir, and I have to warn you some of the images are … well, they’re not pretty.’
‘What the fuck was he inside for, Davis?’ Patience had never been my strong suit.
‘Domestic abuse is too tame a phrase to say what he did to her,’ he replied, not helping the sudden tension spreading through my body.
‘Was it Alex?’
‘We can’t determine that from the photos of the woman, she’s too disfigured, all I can tell you is that it was a woman by the name of Isabelle Knight, and there’s been no digital or paper record relating to her in the last five years. It’s like she just vanished.’
‘Or changed her name and tried to hide,’ I said quietly to myself, as all of the pieces started to fall into place.
‘What was that, sir?’
‘Who’s on duty watching Bishop now?’
‘Adams.’
‘Tell him, with the exception of her two employees, no one gets within ten
feet of her until Watkins arrives to pick her up, especially not Richard fucking King. I’m having her flown over here. And I want everything you have on Isabelle Knight. Until proved otherwise, assume that her and Alex Bishop are one and the same and that she’s in grave danger from this arsehole.’
‘Understood, sir.’ He was gone in an instant.
‘Jesus bloody Christ, what the hell have I got myself mixed up in here,’ I groaned as I tipped my head back and pinched the bridge of my nose. Like my life wasn’t already complicated enough, I had to invite danger into it? But it wasn’t like I had a choice. Alex, or Isabelle, whoever the hell she was, had definitely woken up the protector in me, and there was no way I was throwing her to the wolves when she needed help the most.
I tried to prepare myself for the images Davis had warned me about as I opened the email he’d forwarded, but took a horrified gasp, then let out a string of expletives as my hands curled into tight fists that wanted to inflict some damage themselves.
Nothing could ever prepare anyone for that.
Richard King had better hope I never got my hands on him.
Richard
I woke up with a start at the sound of a car door banging and the noise of its acceleration as it tore up the street, and checked my watch.
‘Fuck,’ I grated out. I’d fallen asleep for hours, when I’d only lain down for a power nap. I’d forgotten how good it felt to sleep without being in constant fear for your life. And Izzie needed to be reminded of that feeling as I taught her where her place was in the world again.
‘What the fuck! What. The. Fuck!’ I raged as I spun around in her empty bedroom.
Her wardrobe doors were open, and some of her drawers were too, showing that most of her clothes had disappeared. So had her suitcase from under the bed.
I stamped on the floor again and again as I roared with anger that my opportunity had just slipped through my fingers yet again, and it took every ounce of self-control not to take out my anger on her furniture, artwork and personal effects.
I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself with the knowledge that wherever she’d gone, she’d be back. And when she did return, I’d be right here waiting for her. No matter how long it took.
And I’d be sure to make her regret making me wait.
Chapter Six
Alex
Monday
Tortola
I STEPPED OFF THE plane, the heat and humidity taking me by surprise. It was a total contrast to the cold and wet October climate that I’d left behind me in London. A driver was waiting for me and explained that I had a final flight to catch to take me to Castle’s own private hideaway, which was one of the British Virgin Islands. Other than Washington D.C., which I’d barely been allowed to see any of, I’d never been out of the U.K.
The picture from the car window, of a clear turquoise sea lapping at the powdery white sands with lush vegetation along the shoreline, just took my breath away and had my creative juices flowing. It was so different to the British coastlines I’d been painting, and was a far cry from the streets of Glasgow and London that I was more familiar with.
It was a short drive to a private harbour, where the driver unloaded my two cases as I twirled around, my maxi dress spinning with me as I took in the view.
‘Miss Bishop. Welcome to the British Virgin Islands.’
I inhaled sharply to hear Castle’s deep voice. I hadn’t expected to meet him here, and I was totally unprepared. I’d planned to use the final flight to his island to compose myself and to not let him see how much he affected me, especially after my insistence that this trip was purely business, and not pleasure. He both excited and terrified me at the same time. I felt a carnal attraction to him and he’d sparked feelings inside of me that I’d thought were dead and buried. And while for some reason my gut told me that he was a man that could be trusted, there were so many similarities to Richard it scared me. My head kept telling me that I needed to keep my distance, but here I was, caught between the devil and the deep blue sea.
‘Mr. Castle, I didn’t expect to see you yet,’ I said as I turned to face him. I swallowed hard as I extended my hand towards him. He’d been dashing in his three-piece business suit the only other time we’d met. Today he was in a white polo shirt, with a pair of khaki board shorts and black flip-flops. Instead of the mature businessman I’d first encountered, today he looked just like any young, good-looking surfer dude as the gentle breeze tousled his dark hair. His blue eyes, which rivalled the stunning ocean behind him, scanned me from head to toe as he smiled and took my hand in his.
‘I thought we agreed on Tate or Castle.’
‘You started it by calling me Miss Bishop. It makes me sound like an old spinster.’
‘Yet you’re anything but, Alex. Is there anything that you need before we leave? My island is small, there’s only four houses on it, all of which I own. Our supplies are collected from here in Tortola, as required.’
‘I think I have everything I need, with the exception of some of my painting tools,’ I replied, feeling rather self-conscious that he was still holding my hand. It sent a rush of warmth through my body, which wasn’t needed when I was already flushed from the heat and seeing him again.
‘We’ll make a list of what you need tomorrow. I’m sure you must be tired and would like to take the rest of the day to relax and catch up on some sleep. It’s quite a journey as we’re a little off the beaten track.’
‘You certainly are,’ I agreed. He smiled again as he squeezed my hand before releasing it, and I quickly reached up to smooth my hair in an attempt to try to cover my nerves. He turned to the driver, who’d already put my cases in the back of the tiny plane and spoke with him for a moment. I took the opportunity to try and compose myself. He must think I look frightful compared to the glamorous women he probably dated. I rarely bothered with makeup, not having wanted to draw any unwanted male attention my way, but right now I was wishing I was wearing some.
‘Okay, we’re good to go,’ he said as he turned to face me again. He opened the passenger door of the plane to show me a cabin that wasn’t too dissimilar in size to the interior of my VW Beetle. I’d never seen a plane so small.
‘Where’s the pilot?’ I asked.
‘You’re looking at him.’
‘You can fly this thing?’ I asked, completely astonished.
‘I sincerely hope so, or we’re both in for a rather long swim. If you promise not to touch any of the controls, you can sit next to me for the best view.’
I just nodded, dumbfounded. This was surreal, it was so far from the reality I’d grown up with. Castle strapped me into my seat and placed a set of headphones over my head as I averted my gaze, too embarrassed to make eye contact with him. Having him so close was unnerving.
‘I make you nervous,’ he stated, almost as if he’d just read my mind, as he closed the door and put his headset on.
‘Yes,’ I confirmed with a nod and a pink hue heating up my cheeks as our gaze locked. It wasn’t just from the chemistry that I could feel crackling the air between us, though. I felt guilty. Tom and Janice had insisted that I hide the truth about why I’d really accepted his offer, but it just wasn’t sitting comfortably with me. ‘Castle, I need to tell you something, and when I do you might throw my cases back onto that jetty and send me home.’ I made my confession in a rush, before I had a chance to change my mind.
‘You can speak freely.’ His tone was soft, gentle, welcoming of my admission, which I hadn’t expected. I twisted my fingers in my lap as I stared down at them, my stomach swirling violently, almost as if I was experiencing seasickness from the gentle rocking of the plane as we sat in the relatively calm waters of the harbour.
‘My name isn’t really Alex Bishop.’ I took a deep breath, it was now or never. ‘It’s Isabelle Knight. I was in a toxic relationship for ten years and had him sent to prison for what he did to me, then ran away and changed my name. Only now he’s out and he found me in London. That’s why I
agreed to come here. Because I was terrified and needed to hide from him again. I’m so sorry, I should have been honest from the start and I completely understand if you’d prefer me to go straight home.’ I was met with silence, all I could hear was the sound of us both breathing, and the noise of the water lapping at the plane. I screwed my eyes shut as I waited for his reply. If he did send me packing, I had no idea what I’d do, or where I’d go.
‘I have a confession to make too, Alex,’ he eventually said after a heavy sigh. ‘I know your story. Not all of it, obviously, but what my security team were able to glean from the digital footprint of your old life.’
‘You had me investigated?’ I gasped, as I shot my gaze over to him.
‘I’m a very private man who takes his security seriously. I wasn’t about to allow someone I barely know to step foot in my home without checking their background first.’
‘But … I took steps, to ensure that no one could trace my past. How … I don’t understand.’
‘It wasn’t hard to put two and two together, once we had a picture of Richard King watching you the other evening. What neither of you realised, is that I had someone watching you, making sure you were safe.’
‘He was really there? I didn’t imagine it?’ I whispered, not sure if I was relieved to have my suspicions confirmed, or upset that they had been, and that I’d had my privacy breached by Tate Castle and his team.
‘No, sadly you didn’t imagine it. I’m sorry that I kept you in the dark with regards to having a member of my security following you, but after meeting you the other evening, I had a sense that you were in trouble and might need my help.’
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