She started moving around the house, testing doors and windows. There were two bedrooms in the back with sliding glass doors that were locked, as were the windows. Then she came to one that seemed to give when she pushed at it. She worked it up and down, feeling it loosen more. Finally the upper sash came free, and she felt some of the tightness in her chest ease, thankful that she didn’t have to break a window to get in.
After pushing the sash all the way up, she climbed inside. She was in a room that had a television and several video-game controllers.
The main seating area was down the hall, and she hurried there, then crossed to the kitchen counter. Relief flooded through her when she picked up the phone receiver and heard a dial tone.
She knew she couldn’t talk long. Someone might be able to trace a call if they had time. She’d just make sure her brother was okay and then hang up. She punched in Alesandro’s cell number and waited with her heart pounding as the phone rang. One, two, three, four rings. Was something wrong? Finally he picked up, and she let out the breath she was holding.
“Alesandro.”
“You finally called. Gracias a Dios.” His voice sounded strange, like it hurt to move his lips.
“Where are you? Are you all right?”
“No, I’m not all right, estúpida,” he said, his tone turning hard and derisive.
She caught her breath at the way he’d addressed her, then struggled for calm. He was like this when he was upset.
“What’s wrong?”
“Thanks to you not doing what you said you’d do, those men have me.” He made a strangled sound, and she could hear the pain in his voice now. “They’ve been beating the crap out of me, and it’s all your fault.”
“No.”
“Oh yes. They want that thing you took from Blake’s office. They’re going to kill me if you don’t turn it over.”
She caught her breath again.
“Where are you?” he demanded. “They can send someone to pick you up.”
Before she could answer, the receiver was yanked from her hand and slammed back into the cradle. She had no idea who was behind her. The homeowner? The thugs? All her muscles tensed as she prepared to defend herself as best she could. Or perhaps to explain why she was trespassing.
When large hands spun her around, she saw that Shane was standing behind her.
His eyes glittered with anger. Anger at her and maybe at himself as well. When his hand tightened on her arm, she winced. “I knew I couldn’t trust you,” he growled. “Too bad I couldn’t stay awake.”
“You can trust me,” she said weakly.
He answered with a harsh laugh. “Then what the hell are you doing, sneaking off the boat so you can tell them where we are?”
She swallowed hard. “I wasn’t going to tell them that.”
“But you were trying to make sure I didn’t know you were leaving the boat.”
She answered with a little nod.
“I’d love to hear exactly what you think you’re doing,” he said, punching out the words. He kept his hand on her, but he took his eyes from her face for a few seconds to scan the grounds outside the guesthouse.
She fought the need to wrap her arms protectively around her shoulders. Lifting her head, she said, “I woke up worried about my brother. I was worried those men had gotten him, and he told me they had. They hurt him. Badly, I think.” She dragged in a breath and let it out. “I have to take that SIM card back to him, or they’ll kill him.”
“And what do you think will happen then?”
“I’ll save him.”
Shane snorted. “It sounds like that card is the only thing keeping him alive—and you and me, for that matter. I mean, come on. As soon as they get what they want, they’ll kill us all.”
“No,” she whispered.
“We’re witnesses.”
She didn’t answer, but now that she’d had a chance to think about it, she was afraid he might be right.
She saw his eyes narrow.
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m wondering if they can trace us through that phone call.”
She sucked in a sharp breath. “I wasn’t going to talk long. I didn’t talk long.”
“You were in the middle of what sounded like a long conversation when I got here.”
She closed her eyes and opened them again. “He sounded awful. I…”—she raised one shoulder—“made some mistakes. I’m sorry.”
“Which mistakes were those? Sleeping with me—or making that phone call?”
“The phone call,” she answered, but she couldn’t help wondering about her foolish seduction the night before.
Shane shook his head, trying to decide what to believe. He’d caught her in a compromising position, but she could be telling the truth about her motives. The trouble was, he was too emotionally involved to figure that out. But one thing he knew, if he let her get away from him now, she was going to get herself killed.
“I was worried about my brother,” she said again in a low voice.
“Is he worth it?”
“I don’t know. But he’s my family.”
Shane snorted. “I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t put his life on the line for you.”
Her expression turned sad. “I think that’s right.”
“Then why risk getting killed for him?”
She answered quickly. “My values aren’t the same as his. I have to be loyal to him.”
Even as he made a dismissive sound, Shane knew what she meant. At least about loyalty. His wife had pulled the rug out from under him, proving she didn’t give a damn about their marriage. He’d been soured on the whole human race until he’d met Max Lyon and Jack Brandt under pretty trying circumstances. That night in jail had been a shortcut to getting to know their characters. He’d seen they were both determined and sure of their values—which appeared to be the same as his. And over the months they’d been together, he’d come to know them better than anyone else he’d ever met.
Their lives meant something to him. Too bad he couldn’t say the same thing for Elena’s brother. From what he’d seen of the sorry-assed guy, he was a user who didn’t give a damn about anyone but himself.
Which brought Shane’s thoughts back to his own ex-wife. Probably, she’d never really loved him. Probably, she’d seen him as glamorous and a good catch. But before long, she’d started stepping out on him when she thought he wouldn’t find out. On an intellectual level, he knew all women weren’t like her. But it was hard to trust one of them again. He’d let down his guard with Elena last night. It looked like that had been a mistake.
He knew she was looking at him, waiting for him to decide what to do. He turned toward the main house, scanning the facade. So far, it appeared that no one was home. But there was no use taking chances.
“I want to make a phone call,” he said. “Go outside—where I can see you through the window. But not on the side where you can be seen from the pool deck.”
“Who are you calling?”
“If I wanted you to know my business, I’d let you stay inside,” he clipped out.
He watched resignation bloom on her face. “Okay,” she whispered.
Turning, she exited the guesthouse. Staying on the side away from the mansion, she stood where he could see her, staring in through the window.
He kept his gaze on her as he crossed to the phone, picked it up, and made a call.
The man on the other end of the line picked up on the first ring.
“Glad I caught you.”
“Shane?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you all right?”
“Basically.”