Realizations tumbled through her mind. He’d known about the flooring, known some of the two-foot-square tiles had been left unbolted to allow for repair of the complex wiring. Of course he’d known—he’d practically designed it. And this was the reason behind his sudden urge to move the sofa; it was giving him some small screen for his actions. Except for that quick move when he’d kissed her.
When he’d kissed her…
If she’d spoken out of shock when she’d first seen him, it might well have been loud enough to alert the guards. Was that why he’d done it?
He sat down next to her again, close, where he’d been before.
“I’ve been wanting that for days,” he whispered, with a husky timbre to his voice that sent heat through her yet again.
She wanted to say that she had, too, wanted to believe that keeping her quiet hadn’t been his only reason. And she realized with a little jolt that even if he had kissed her just to keep her quiet, it didn’t matter. It had been as hot and consuming as their first kiss had been five years ago, and why he’d done it didn’t change that one bit.
So where did that leave them? Without the baggage of Phil’s desertion and death between them, where did they go from here?
Nowhere, she realized, unless they got out of this alive. And there was a very real possibility they might not.
“What were you doing?” she whispered.
“Trusting they didn’t know there’s another way out than the doors they’re guarding,” he said with a wry twist of his mouth.
“But—”
He put a finger to her lips. “Let’s not push our luck any further. There’s still an hour or so before dawn. Try to get some more sleep.”
“I thought they’d killed you.” Her whisper sounded shaky, but she couldn’t help it.
For a long moment he just looked at her, as if he very much wanted to ask if she’d care. But all he said was, “They may yet. I’m not cut out for this kind of thing.”
“Then why—”
He hushed her again, nodding toward Tarak, who was looking their way.
“Lie down again,” he whispered. “So he won’t think it odd he couldn’t see me earlier, either.”
That made sense, she told herself. And no matter the reason, she liked the feeling of him being so very close. Liked the sound of his breathing in her ear, liked the feel of his arm around her, pulling her to him. For a moment she let herself wonder what it would be like if they weren’t in this situation, let herself fantasize about being with him like this under normal conditions—free to explore whatever this was that exploded to life so quickly between them.
She was allowed a little fantasy, she thought. Especially since it might be all she ever got.
She woke to the faint light of early morning and a lovely feeling of safety. Noah was holding her tight, and she was snuggled up against the curve of his body so nicely. Sleepily she wiggled, wanting to be closer. Noah gave a low, smothered exhalation, as if she’d hurt him somehow.
She came awake with a little start. He was holding her close. Very close. And if his state of arousal, obvious as he pressed against her, was any indication, pain hadn’t been what he’d expressed.
She wanted to move closer but made herself try to edge away instead. He tightened his arms around her. “Stay,” he whispered.
“But you…you’re…” She stammered to a halt, very aware that there were twenty-six children close at hand.
“Yes. I’ll live. Don’t go.”
She couldn’t say no to the barely disguised plea in his voice. She settled back down, at least until the first child started to stir.
That came sooner than she’d hoped, with the sudden sound of excited voices at the back of the schoolroom. She sat up then, watching the children as they awoke to the noise, listening as well to the rapid conversation between the two guards and another man, the jokester who had helped bring the food last night. Filipo had closed his door and left his post to join them, so she knew it must be important. She got up and walked amid the children, until she got close enough to hear.
“—half the power at the hotel is out. Lights, elevators, everything but the kitchens.”
“They are supposed to open tomorrow night! How can they not have electricity for those rich pigs?
“There’s more. Two of our boats were sunk last night, and the third damaged.”
“What about Sabaya? Wasn’t he watching the boats? Did he not see or hear something?”
“He saw someone, a man he thinks. He tried to chase him, but he lost him in the brush on the north side.”
“Sabaya is an idiot,” Tarak exclaimed. “He can’t do the simplest of jobs, guarding the stupid boats. Now we will have to repair them. What more can go wrong?”
“Ares thinks the boats may be sabotaged.”
“Sabotaged? By who? Isn’t all the staff accounted for?”
The joker nodded. “He doesn’t know who. But he is suspicious.”
“Mrs. Cooper, can we get up now?”
Paige tore her attention away from the incredible conversation. It was all she could do not to turn and stare at Noah.
Could it be? He’d seemed so cowed, so subdued since Filipo had shot at him. But she couldn’t deny what she’d seen, either—Noah had slipped out twice during the night. Could he really be responsible? Noah Rider, Redstone executive who claimed not to be cut out for heroics, who had seemed so timid after that near escape, out on midnight sabotage missions?
Finally she could no longer resist and looked at him. In the morning light she noticed for the first time that he had a long scratch on the side of his neck.
…he lost him in the brush.
Most of her doubt faded. Unlikely as it seemed, impossible as it sounded, it looked as though it had to be true.
Noah was the stealthy saboteur.
Chapter 11
Uh-oh, Rider thought.
If he was judging Paige’s expression right, she’d just put enough jigsaw pieces together to see the picture. She didn’t look positive yet, but it wouldn’t take much. He could only hope she was uncertain, or was at least able to hide the knowledge. The last thing he needed was to have Tarak or Filipo guess that they had their midnight skulker right under their guns.
He dodged her gaze then, and got up to help with the kids. He hadn’t been kidding, he really didn’t know much about them or how to deal with them, but the image of a nurturing, softhearted soul was exactly what he wanted to project to their captors. He didn’t know how much the concept of machismo came into play in this part of the world, but if acting like a fussy mother hen would divert their attention from him, he’d play it to the hilt.
Not that these kids didn’t deserve some fussing, he thought as Hannah lifted her arms to him with a faith he found oddly throat tightening. He picked her up, and she cuddled against him and let out a little sigh. She hadn’t cried since it had first happened, and seemed to have accepted waking up to find herself still in what she must have hoped was just a bad dream.
In fact, he’d been surprised at how well they’d all held up. Even the little ones seemed to have realized that, while they couldn’t go home, they were safe for the moment, and the outbreaks of wailing and tears had lessened. As for the older ones, they’d surprised him with their willingness to help the younger ones, although he suspected Lani had a bit to do with that. She’d quickly started to direct the others of her own age group, and they’d let her, glad, apparently, to have someone take charge. And to be doing something, anything, Rider guessed.
Right now she and Kyle had their heads together, and there was something about the intensity of their whispered conversation that made him nervous. Before he could edge close enough to hear anything, Kyle had gotten to his feet. After a quick glance to be sure his mother was occupied, the boy shoved his hands in his pockets and started to walk around, as if aimlessly. But Rider sensed there was purpose in Kyle’s actions, and that made him even more nervous.
When he sa
w the boy was working his way toward the small door Filipo had left closed but unguarded when he’d rushed to hear the damage report, Rider went very still. Surely Kyle wasn’t stupid enough to try and escape? They’d mow him down without a second thought; they needed Paige, but one kid more or less wasn’t going to make that much difference.
Rider flicked a glance at Paige, but she was thankfully busy with little Stevie. He didn’t want to think how she’d react if she saw what her son was doing.
He was almost to the door, and Rider was about to put Hannah down and do something—although he wasn’t at all sure what—when Lani got up, walked over to one of the cubicles on the opposite side of the room from the doorway. Kyle had halted six feet short of the door. Rider watched as Lani hesitated, glancing cautiously at the three men who were still agitatedly discussing the night’s events. Then, with a movement he couldn’t mistake for anything but intentional, she hit a stack of what appeared to be computer software CD boxes, sending them flying with a clatter that drew every eye in the place.
Except Kyle’s.
Rider shifted Hannah so that he could look back at the door without the guards seeing him, sure he was going to see the boy making a dash out the door. Kyle was right next to the door now, but instead of running, he was straightening up from a crouch and casually walking back toward the group, unnoticed by the men at the doors.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Cooper,” Lani said as she threw an apologetic look to Paige, who had turned at the noise as they all had. “I’m just so scared by those men.”
Paige smiled encouragingly at the girl, who then busied herself picking up the jewel cases, as if she had simply knocked them over by accident.
Girl, you’re my kind of scared, Rider thought in silent salute to the nervy teenager.
However, the commotion had drawn their captors’ attention back to them, and Filipo quickly returned to his post. Whatever Kyle had been doing, the man didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. He opened his door once more, but this time didn’t sit down; the possibility that their plans had been sabotaged had clearly raised their attention level.
Rider guessed from Filipo’s disgruntled expression that he felt left out of the real action, stuck here guarding a bunch of school kids and their teacher…
And, Rider added with an inward smile, that teacher’s wimpy, Milquetoast supervisor, no more threat than any of the six-year-olds.
Not that he felt like a threat. In fact, he’d rarely felt more out of his depth in his life. Yes, he knew how to move silently, knew how to stalk prey, had enough familiarity with guns and hunting to know how and where to hide, but he was unarmed and flying blind. Except that, unlike their uninvited guests, he knew every inch of Redstone Bay. And most of the rest of the island, too. It was all he had going for him. He could only hope it would be enough.
He’d accomplished what he’d wanted to last night. He’d inconvenienced them with the electrical power and hopefully the damage he’d inflicted on the boats. Making their escape a bit more complicated would make them think about their own skins.
But he’d also drawn their attention. Ares hadn’t taken long to figure out they had an enemy on the loose, and judging by the heightened alertness of their own guards, he’d made his own job much more difficult.
And I wasn’t all that good at it to begin with, he thought wryly.
Then he remembered Paige’s look of speculation and couldn’t help feeling a little glad that she’d guessed. He hadn’t much liked the idea of her thinking he would just sit back and let these fanatics take over without even a token fight. It would have been better if she hadn’t figured it out—what she didn’t know she couldn’t let slip, even unintentionally—but now that she had…
“Breakfast is coming. Get ready,” Tarak called out in Paige’s general direction.
Figuring this would be the time when their guards would get any new information, he took Hannah to the bathroom under the guise of washing up. He didn’t like using the child, but she’d already said she needed to go, anyway, so he figured all he’d done was arrange the timing.
Breakfast arrived in the same manner dinner had the night before. However, this time it was minus the joking deliverymen. Everyone was deadly serious now, and from what he could hear of their hushed talk from inside the bathroom, Ares wasn’t making the connection between the power problems and the damage to their boats.
“—thinks some local did it.”
“Some local? What fool would go up against us?” Tarak scoffed.
Hannah finished and asked him to lift her up so she could wash her hands. Rider noted there was a small footstool handy, but if she wanted him to lift her, lift her he would. While he listened.
“Ares doesn’t think anyone on the outside even knows we are here yet. It’s possible that some poor islander scuttled the boats, hoping they’d be abandoned, and then he could repair and sell them,” the deliveryman said.
There was a moment of silence as Tarak apparently pondered this, then Rider heard the deliveryman say, “I have to get back.”
In the same moment Hannah said, “All done.” Rider moved to put the child down, but she clung to him, shaking her head adamantly. “No. Please. Not by those nasty men.”
He pulled her up and settled her comfortably against his chest. “You,” he said, reaching out to tap her nose, “are a very discerning young lady.”
She scrunched up her forehead. “Is that good?”
“It’s very, very good,” he promised her, and she gave him a smile that made him feel ridiculously gooey inside, while at the same time solidified his determination that someone was going to pay for terrifying this little girl.
Paige saw Noah bringing Hannah back from the bathroom. Despite everything, she couldn’t help but smile at the picture they made—the tall, strong man with the wide-eyed little girl, her arms entwined so tightly around his neck, his arms holding her so safely. She wondered if there was a woman in the world who wouldn’t be moved by such a sight. There was something about a strong man with a child…
A strong man. She’d always thought of him that way, an image from when he’d been there for her, so solidly, when she’d needed someone. And even though he’d been sent by his company, she’d been certain he’d gone above and beyond the call for her; she doubted holding her as she wept was part of the deal.
Then this had happened, and she’d had her image of him rattled. She had thought him a man only strong in his own world, in the halls of business, not the jungles of battle. And she’d not been happy with herself for judging him on that basis. How was a businessman supposed to face heavily armed men? He’d be a fool to even try.
So he hadn’t faced them. He’d gone behind them, around them and apparently right under their noses.
It was possible, she thought, that it was somebody else, but she didn’t think so. And now the guards were paying less attention to them and a lot more to the outside threat, never guessing it was right here.
She didn’t think she could completely smother her smile, so even though they weren’t watching their prisoners as closely, she turned away. She went back to counting up the utensils. She didn’t want them to be accused of hiding any when it came time to present them to Tarak for the return count. It seemed so silly. What did they think, that someone would ignore the fact of their automatic weapons and attack them with a fork?
When she was sure there were the right number, she handed half to Lani to pass out, the other half to Kyle, while she began to hand plates of scrambled eggs and sausage to the children. She wondered if Rudy had fixed them. He was Stevie’s father, and Paige could only imagine what hell he must be going through, knowing his little boy was held captive just as he was.
She set first Lani’s, then Kyle’s plates on their chairs until they were done with the silverware. Kyle returned just as she finished and leaned over to pick up his plate. In that instant Paige took the chance to look at her son without being seen by the guards. She opened her mouth to say
how proud she was of how he was behaving in this awful situation when, as he leaned over, she caught a glimpse of something beneath his shirt, shoved into his waistband at the small of his back. Her heart, her breath, even her vision seemed to short-circuit for an instant.
Kyle had a gun.
Her fingers clenched, white-knuckle tight, around the two remaining forks, hers and Noah’s.
She knew nothing about guns. Well, next to nothing; she knew what those men were carrying were the powerful automatic rifles she’d heard so much about. Beyond that she knew there was a difference between an automatic pistol and a revolver and that they all came in different calibers. That was about the extent of her knowledge.
But there was one thing about guns that she was absolutely sure of: she did not want her son to have one. Most especially now.
He was sitting down now, paying more attention to Lani than to his food. Paige tried to think. She was vaguely aware that Noah was with Hannah and was settling her down with her breakfast, but only vaguely aware. Her mind just keep running that image over and over, like an endless loop of videotape, that dark-gray, unmistakable handle of a gun. What on earth did he think he was going to do? He didn’t even know how to shoot a gun.
At least, she thought—hoped—he didn’t. She’d lost control of him in the weeks before they’d left L.A., but could it have been that bad? Could those boys he’d been hanging out with have been that bad?
Of course they could, you fool, she chided herself. Wasn’t it on the news every night?
She tried to get a grip. What had happened in L.A. didn’t matter now. What mattered was that her son had a gun, and whatever he had in mind, he would likely be the one who ended up getting shot.
She knew if she asked him for it he’d argue with her, and that could have lethal consequences if their guards were drawn by the commotion. She had to do something, and she had to do it now. She made a quick decision. It would have to be fast and smooth and over before he realized it.
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