“I’m not going to kill you,” he said. “I said you’re dead already because according to the newspapers in the United States, your body was found this morning, along with mine. Everyone thinks that we were killed together when our plane crashed. If you go back now, they’ll know I’m not dead.”
His words sank in slowly, and she shook her head.
“You can’t just do that,” she said. “I don’t know what bodies you’re talking about, but they’ll realize that it’s not me. I have dental records. They’ll figure it out.”
“No they won’t,” he said. “The people who would be figuring it out, the investigators, are the ones who planted the evidence. Sandra Vicars is dead, and she’ll be buried within a few days. Your family has been notified, as have your neighbors.”
She shook her head slowly, willing his words to go away.
“I don’t want that to happen,” she said slowly. “I was doing something with my life. It isn’t fair for you to simply step in and say that I can’t go back. You shouldn’t be able to take all that away form me.”
“It’s too late for that,” he said softly. “It’s already gone. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I’m sorry for what I did. I won’t go back, though. I’ve already been in jail too long for that. I’m done with that forever. I’m dead, too, and I’m starting life over as a new man.”
“Does that mean you’ll be giving back all the lovely money you earned in your old life?” she asked caustically. “Because this place doesn’t come cheap, I’m relatively certain of that. If you don’t kill me now, when do you plan to do it? After you finished fucking me?”
“That’s what I originally planned,” he said slowly, his eyes boring into hers with cruel honesty. “Then I decided I’d pay you off. Whores expect that. I figured I’d give you enough money to set yourself up some place new and we’d both go on our ways. But I somehow doubt that you’ll be willing to do that.”
She shook her head, thinking.
“Yes, I would,” she said suddenly. “If it means I get to live, I’ll do it in a heartbeat. Please, let me do it.”
“I might let you do that, but I doubt that Valzar would,” he said. “He doesn’t like to leave loose ends lying about, and you’re definitely a loose end. He’s already offered to take care of you for me.”
“Yes, I kind of picked upon that,” she said softly. To her disgust, she could feel moisture welling up in her eyes. She would not cry, not now. She needed to stay strong, to think things through. To convince him that he could trust her. It was her only shot.
“What if I just stay with you for now?” she asked, trying not to sound too coy. “Do we really have to figure all these things out right now? Can’t we just have fun?”
He assessed her coolly, nodding his head.
“We can do that.”
“Good,” she said brightly. “I saw that there was a swimming pool in the other courtyard. Would you like to go swimming?”
“No.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Why don’t we take a nap?” he asked, raising his hands to cup her head. He wiped at her cheeks with his large, strong thumbs, and she felt moisture there. Damn, she’d cried after all. “You seem worn out.”
“I don’t think I can sleep,” she said honestly. “This has been too much for me—my mind just races trying to figure everything out.”
He pulled her against his muscled chest with surprising tenderness.
“You don’t have to get everything figured out right now,” he said. “You can just relax. Sandra, I promise you, if you do as I say you won’t get hurt. But you’re going to have to trust me.”
Fat chance, she thought to herself, but she nodded her head against him. He saw her as helpless, as dependent on him for survival. While that might be true, there was no reason for her to give up that easily.
As long as she was alive, she could fight.
He released her and reached down with one arm behind her knees. Before she quite understood how he’d done it, she was in his arms, being carried across the room as if she were as light as a feather. He laid her down on the bed very gently, lowering himself beside her. He reached around her with one arm, spooning her and tucking her against his body.
“You don’t have to be afraid,” he said. “I’m going to take care of you. I’m not quite sure what we’ll do just yet, but I’ll find a way for you to stay safe. As long as you’re with me, nobody will be able to touch you.”
His words shouldn’t have been as comforting as they were. He was her enemy, her captor. If it weren’t for him, she wouldn’t be stuck in this situation. But her traitorous body didn’t seem to see things that way, and every particle of her being reveled in being held so close. He was big and strong, warm and safe. She felt so comfortable.
He nuzzled the back of her neck through her hair as his hand wormed its way up beneath her clothing to her breast. He cupped her, squeezing slightly, and her nipple hardened. It seemed unfair that it should feel so good. She felt secure with him touching her, happier than was decent under the circumstances.
His hand burrowed through her hair, and his lips became more insistent. She rolled over into his arms and gave herself up in the comfort of the moment. Life was short—she wanted to feel good.
He responded quickly, rolling her beneath him, and for one brief moment they forgot about the future.
Chapter Eight
Sean stared at the fax, eyes failing to focus.
Why now?
Life had been so perfect. He and Sandra had fallen into a blissful routine. Every morning they’d go swimming, followed by a breakfast on the terrace. In the afternoons they’d hike or read, or perhaps even watch a movie. Their dinners were magnificent, celebrations of wine and desire that seemed to go on for hours. Sometimes he’d take her right on the table, other times he’d slowly seduce her over the course of the evening, then whisk her away to their bedroom for nights of wild lovemaking.
It would all come to an end now.
The fax was from Valzar. He needed the safe house for someone else. He didn’t give any details, and Sean didn’t want to know them. He’d been there for a full month—it was past time for him to start pulling his life together.
It was too easy to relax here, nothing seemed very real to him. That kind of relaxation was dangerous.
The fax made a pointed reference to Sandra, too, Valzar offering once more to help Sean with his little liability. Sean leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes and trying to think.
Why had he brought her with him?
He’d told himself at the time that it was because she’d seen him, could identify him to the police. It was a valid concern, but they could have worked around it. More bodies could have been found in that plane crash. The real reason he’d taken her was because he wanted her; he could admit that to himself. He’d seen her, wanted her and decided to take her. He hadn’t cared about the consequences. All he’d cared about was getting her under him in bed.
Valzar had lost patience with his little obsession, though. And he was right. They couldn’t just stay here in the jungle forever, pretending they were on some kind of bizarre vacation. He could see the questions and the fear in her eyes sometimes, and he knew that it was always in the back of her mind. What would happen to her? Would he grow tired of her? Would he kill her?
Killing her wasn’t an option—he’d realized that long ago. He simply wouldn’t allow it to happen. She was too special, too beautiful. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt her.
At the same time, he didn’t know what to do with her. Even if he set her up in a new town with new money, he wasn’t entirely sure Valzar wouldn’t go after her. His friend was very loyal and very thorough.