Her nipples went hard.
Damn, she was easy. Ridiculous. She tried to distract herself with concentrating on what would happen to her if she didn’t lay her hands on the money, and that was indeed sobering enough to work. “I’m not sure this will ever end.”
“It will,” he said with such confidence, she wanted to believe. Oh, how she wanted to believe. “Shayne’s brother is a cop,” he said. “He could-”
“No.” She’d been warned what would happen if she did that, and she believed them. Shuddering, she hugged herself. “That won’t help me.”
“You’re not alone in this anymore, Bailey.” He tugged her hand until she looked at him. “I won’t leave you alone.”
Oh, God, he was something. Strong, sure. Amazing. What she’d ever done to deserve his belief in her, she’d never know. “Let’s just do this and see what happens.”
“And if it’s not there?”
“I have one other shot.” The Baja resort.
“What will you do with yourself?”
She realized he meant afterward, when this whole thing was over. It hadn’t been a dream she’d allowed to form. “I…I don’t know.”
His eyes narrowed as he turned his head from his controls. A frown tightened his mouth. “Damn it. You still don’t actually believe this is going to be over.”
She looked away, but he tugged her hand again until she craned her neck, looked him in the eyes-those amazing eyes-and sighed. “No,” she admitted.
Mouth grim, he checked his instruments, the horizon. “Don’t you give up on me now.”
Beneath them, the Pacific Ocean shimmered a brilliant blue. “I’m trying not to.”
“Trust me, we can do this.’
“You know I’m not so good with the trust thing. I…I need time.”
“How much time?”
“More than a day.”
“You’ve known me for more than a day. You knew me enough to make sure it was me on that plane yesterday, and no one else.” He looked at her, his eyes steady and sure. “Why was that, Bailey, if you didn’t trust me?”
The question caught her breath. Or maybe the man did that. But in any case, it became difficult to draw air into her lungs.
Because it was true. She was beginning to trust him. “It was almost easier before,” she said, watching the island in front of them get bigger and bigger as they got closer, lifting out of the water, its mountains reaching high up into the sky. “When it was just me in danger.”
“Bailey-”
“No. I hate knowing I’m putting your life on the line as well.”
“I’m a big boy, and can take care of myself.”
Yes, he’d proven that, hadn’t he? But it didn’t ease the worry, not one little bit. She watched him go through the landing procedure. Ahead, the island was lush, gorgeous, and she wished they were coming here for any other reason. “This resort is bigger than the Mammoth one.”
“Which means…?”
“It won’t be as easy as last night.”
A harsh laugh left him at that. “And last night was easy?”
Right. The truth was, it was only a matter of time before the goons caught up with her, and she wanted to have their money when they did. Looking into the warmest eyes she’d ever seen, she realized how very badly she wanted to live.
“Get ready,” he said. “We’re going in.”
Catalina Island was 42,000 acres of mostly craggy cliffs. Landing was always a bitch, made tougher by the winds and unsettled air currents.
But he’d experienced worse. A lot worse. Noah shut down the engine and looked at Bailey.
She was a little green, so he helped her out of the plane, where they stood on a large plateau and took in the view.
To their right, about three hundred feet straight down, lay the Pacific Ocean. On their left rose a set of jagged peaks, reaching for the sky in a huge half circle, protecting a valley, and a jaw-droppingly gorgeous if not slightly ostentatious resort.
He eyed the buildings from where they stood, noting that the place looked completely deserted, but then again, so had the Mammoth resort yesterday.
Next to him, the wind ruffled Bailey’s hair, plastering her sweater to her curves as she studied the resort, which was two buildings connected by a skyway between them, all overlooking the cliff and the jaw-dropping view with a steep road up to it. The road itself was gated, and appeared to be paved, or at least graveled, but there wasn’t a vehicle in sight.
Going to be quite a climb, he thought, and wondered if that part had occurred to Bailey yet. He eyed her high-heeled boots. “Ready?”
“There used to be a cart to take us up…”
Noah took in the small, one-story hangar at the side of the tarmac. No lights or movement there either. No bad guys with guns, though honestly, given the way things had been going, that meant jack shit.
They could be anywhere, waiting.
He liked the locked gate, though, a lot. Anyone following them would have to break through it. Good odds, but he kept watchful just the same because he knew it wouldn’t take much for anyone to discover where Alan’s resorts were, nor would it take much more to put someone in place at each, where they could sit back and wait for Bailey to come get what they wanted. “The hangar first.”
“Why?”
The door was locked, but as he led her around the perimeter, he found a gold mine. “Because of this.”
Bailey stared at the golf cart, which looked as though it had seen better days in the previous century. “This is the one.”
He helped her into it and proceeded to hotwire the thing to life, while Bailey just looked at him. “Who are you anyway, Superman?”
He’d been on his own a long time, and had learned a whole host of useful skills with which to survive. Once upon a time, some of those skills might have occasionally been illegal, but hey, he’d been young, scared, and starving.
He’d evolved since then, mostly, but this called for old drastic measures. “Superman would fly us up to the hotel.”
He stomped on the gas and they hit the gate which broke open.
“Hey, that works,” he said with a grin, and pushed the accelerator to the floor, which didn’t accomplish all that much as he drove them up the hill.
And actually, drove was a bit adventurous for what they really did, which was putt-putt up the mountain on the single lane rocky road at the same pace they could have jogged it. Noah would have liked more horsepower and speed.
Hell, he’d have liked to still be in bed. In Bailey, for that matter. “You okay?” he asked her over the sound of the rackety engine and the wind in their faces.
She nodded, but didn’t speak. He supposed that was as much nerves for what lay ahead as the fact that her teeth were rattling in her head as he bounced them along.
She was holding her hair back from her face with one hand and straightening her sunglasses with the other because they kept sliding down her face. She looked like the sexiest, cutest thing he’d ever seen, and right then and there his heart squeezed hard enough to hurt like hell. “So we’ll just go in, get out,” he told her. “We’ll be back on the plane in-holy shit!” He ducked as a bird, a huge bird, dive-bombed them.
She laughed. Laughed. The sound was so musical, so damned beautiful, he turned his head and just stared at her, and in doing so nearly crashed them into a rock.
“What?” she asked, self-consciously running a hand over her wild hair.
“I’ve never seen you do that.”
“Do what?”
“Laugh.” Smiling, he reached for her hand, and squeezed. “I love it. Do it again.”
With indeed another laugh, this one startled, she shook her head. “You’re crazy.”
“Of that, there’s never been any doubt.” He found himself grinning like a fool for no reason other than he was with her, on Catalina Island, with the glorious afternoon sun beating down on him.