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The Only Way Out
Susan Mallery


Andie Cochran thought she had at last escaped the clutches of her ruthless, power-mad ex-husband–but then he abducted the child she loved more than life itself.And now, alone in a foreign country, she had no one to turn to but another very dangerous man–a man who awakened passions she had thought long dead…. Jeff Markum had come to this place in search of revenge, not caring that death could easily be the price he had to pay.But now, against his will, a woman was making him care about something more than vengeance–a woman who had once belonged to the very man he meant to destroy….









Praise for

SUSAN MALLERY


“Susan Mallery is warmth and wit personified. Always a fabulous read.”

—New York Times bestselling author Christina Dodd

“Ms. Mallery’s unique writing style shines via vivid characters, layered disharmony and plenty of spice.”

—Romantic Times BOOKclub

“A gifted storyteller, Ms. Mallery fills the pages with multi-faceted characters, solid plotting and passion that is both tender and sizzling.”

—Romantic Times BOOKclub

“If you haven’t read Susan Mallery, you must!”

—New York Times bestselling author Suzanne Forster


SUSAN MALLERY is a USA TODAY bestselling author of over eighty books and has been a recipient of countless awards, including the National Reader’s Choice Award. Her combination of humor, emotion and downright sexiness has made her a reader favorite. She makes her home in Southern California with her husband, her very dignified cat and her not-so-dignified dog. Visit her Web site at www.SusanMallery.com.


The Only Way Out

Susan Mallery






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


To Jan. Okay, so it was tough at first. It’s turned out

to be more than worth the trouble. I wish I could

find the words to say how much your support and

friendship have meant to me. You’re terrific. (I know

it’s supposed to be a secret, but hey!) Here’s to being

R&F, to maids, summer homes and bright futures.




Contents


Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Epilogue




Prologue


He was less than twenty feet from the car when it exploded. The deafening blast threw Jeff Markum up against the side of a clothing shop. Glass, chunks of wood from a corner fruit stand and pieces of twisted metal from the car itself peppered his body like buckshot. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, couldn’t hear anything except the powerful echo of the explosion. The blackness around him grew, humming louder and louder until he felt himself losing this world. Not yet, he thought desperately.

He forced himself back to consciousness, driven by the need to rescue the two people inside what had once been a small red Ford. As he tried to push himself to his feet, pain ripped through his left leg. A quick glance confirmed the injury. Blood seeped from a tear in his trousers, and his knee bent at an awkward angle. Broken.

Around him, people stirred to life. He heard faint cries and louder screams. The uninjured scurried for cover in case the blast came again. Jeff knew they hid in vain. There was no need for another blast.

He gathered the little strength he had left and crawled along the littered sidewalk. Glass cut his hands. His broken leg dragged behind him. His shoulder was dislocated, but he couldn’t worry about any of that now. He had to get to the flaming, twisted heap that had once been his car.

Toward the inferno that housed his wife and child.

Fury drove him. Sorrow and guilt fueled his need. He was less than five feet from the car when he heard the sounds of the sirens.

They were too damn late, he thought looking at the flames licking skyward as if they could consume the heavens. No one inside could have survived. Even as he tried to comfort himself with the thought that they would have died instantly, he imagined he heard their screams.

Each high-pitched shriek of terror pierced him deeper and deeper until his soul started to bleed. He stared at the wreckage as black smoke began to obscure it from sight.

Then the siren stopped next to him and the medical team jumped out. Strong hands pulled him away from the fire, away from his wife and son. He fought the medics, but he had no strength. All too soon he was in the medical van and on his way to the hospital.

Jeff closed his ears against the clanging of the siren, and closed his eyes against the medic’s penlight. He would get the report tonight, but he already knew what they would find.

A car bomb. Nothing odd about that in a city that claimed hundreds of lives each year. Yet he’d been arrogant enough to assume that the statistics would never touch him. That he could pursue his enemy with all the fervor of a saint chasing the devil and that it would never get personal. Jeff had known Kray had marked him for death, but he hadn’t thought his family would have to pay because he loved his job.

“J.J. needs to be near his father,” Jeanne had insisted when her plane had landed in Lebanon. “And I need to be near my husband.”

Jeff had tried explaining the situation to her, and when that hadn’t worked, he’d resorted to anger. Jeanne had listened quietly, then continued unpacking. As far as she was concerned, it didn’t matter to her that she was in the middle of something ugly, something she would never understand. The rules in her life were simple. A wife’s place was at her husband’s side.

So he’d let her stay. Because a part of him had enjoyed the moments of normalcy in an otherwise chaotic life. Because he loved his wife and son almost as much as he loved his job, and because he believed he could keep them safe. Kray had warned Jeff he would pay. Until this moment he hadn’t known how much.

Jeff let go of his thoughts and concentrated on the pain because the alternative was too horrible. Kray had ordered one of his men to place the bomb in Jeff’s car. The car Jeanne had borrowed that morning so she and J.J. could run errands. Jeff had grown complacent and overly confident. He’d killed his wife and child as surely as if he had set the bomb himself.

Then the buzzing in his ears grew louder and his thoughts more erratic. He couldn’t focus on Jeanne’s face or the sound of J.J.’s laughter. They were getting lost in the pain. Suddenly not finding his way back didn’t sound so bad.

“We’re losing him,” a disembodied voice called. “Pressure’s dropping. He’s lost too much blood.”

Jeff let himself sink further into the blackness. He didn’t care if he died. Jeanne was gone already, and with her, Jeff Jr. Dying might solve his problem. He would simply wait for Kray to join him in hell.




Chapter 1


Five years later

Jeff Markum lay on his belly in the sand. Waving sea grass, bougainvillea and wild fig trees hid him from view. His powerful binoculars allowed him to see into the open windows of the exclusive villa situated at the far end of the hotel grounds.

Three men gathered around a table, as was their morning custom. They’d finished breakfast and were talking. A soft, tropical breeze carried with it the faint sound of laughter. Jeff couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he watched their lips moving and deciphered most of the words.

They were going fishing.

Jeff turned his head slightly to the right and saw the dock jutting out into the deep blue of the Caribbean sea. A well-equipped powerboat sat bobbing in the water. The crew was preparing for their day of fishing. Jeff looked back at the villa. The path from the front door to the boat was about fifty feet long. Nothing obstructed Jeff’s view of the area, so nothing would get in the way of his shot.

Kray would walk those fifty feet. He was a head taller than both his bodyguards. It would be easy to take him out.

Jeff lowered the binoculars and rolled onto his back. His hip bumped the gleaming rifle he’d laid out in preparation of what had to be done. Timing. This whole damn thing was about timing. Today it would happen. He could feel it in his bones, especially in his knee, which often ached if the weather was right.

It was early enough that the temperature was still pleasant. A rainstorm had passed through during the night, washing everything clean. He inhaled the thick air of the island, smelling the tropical flowers, the sea and his own sweat. He’d thought he might hesitate or be weighed down by indecision, but he wasn’t. Today. Now. Kray would die.

Jeff brushed his arm across his forehead and tried to relax. He’d killed men before. He wasn’t afraid to watch someone die. He wasn’t even afraid of dying himself. The plan was flawless. He was the ultimate weapon—an assassin willing to sacrifice himself for the target. Kray didn’t have a chance.

Jeff knew what would happen afterward. He hadn’t spent much time planning his escape, mostly because he didn’t expect to get away. Kray practically owned the island. He came here often enough to make the locals pliable to his wishes. While he was on St. Lucas, Kray liked to pretend he wasn’t a dangerous criminal, but instead, a wealthy businessman on holiday. So the villa had no alarm system, no heat sensors, no obvious security. It was perfect for Jeff’s plan. The three bodyguards who went everywhere with Kray wouldn’t even notice the single bullet that flew past them to find its victim. No doubt Jeff would be caught. So be it. He wanted Kray dead—nothing else mattered.

Jeff rolled onto his stomach again. Instead of the villa, he saw the small red car exploding into unrecognizable pieces. He felt the heat and smelled the burning wreckage.

He held himself very still and waited until the vision passed; then he picked up the rifle and stared through the scope. It had been five long years. In all that time Kray had never crossed the line. He’d never tried to kill Jeff again, and he’d never been caught. One of the most powerful crime lords in the world walked free because he was too smart and too lucky. Jeff smiled slowly. Kray’s luck was about to change for the worse. A single bullet to the head. That’s all it would take.

He was cynical enough to know Kray’s death wouldn’t change the world. Someone else would step in his shoes. But Jeff didn’t care about that. Part of the reason he was here—hell, all of the reason he was here was personal. Maybe when Kray was dead, his dreams about Jeanne and J.J. would haunt him less. Maybe then he could finally forget.

The sound of the boat engines cranking over caught his attention. He adjusted the rifle, shifting his arm on the sand, then stared through the scope. He closed his left eye. He could see the crew preparing to cast off.

Slowly he turned the rifle toward the villa’s front door. Within a few seconds, the first of the bodyguards appeared, carrying a canvas bag. The man was talking. Jeff couldn’t decipher his words. A second man stepped out onto the path. Kray’s assistant. Jeff waited.

A third man moved onto the path. Jeff stiffened. Kray. He stared intently through the rifle’s scope. The crime lord looked like what he pretended to be: a successful businessman on holiday. His brown hair was short and brushed straight back. Thick eyebrows arched over light brown eyes. A full mouth curved into a smile at something one of the bodyguards said.

Jeff adjusted the scope until the cross hairs centered on Kray’s head. He touched the trigger. He’d been practicing with this rifle for over a year. He knew exactly how much pressure to apply, knew how heavy the loads were in the bullets and knew precisely what would happen to Kray at the moment of impact. He’d always been a good field agent, even if he’d spent the past five years behind a desk.

He thought about Jeanne and J.J. one last time, then cleared his mind. Nothing existed except the target. Nothing mattered. His breathing slowed, as did his heartbeat. His body stayed perfectly still in anticipation.

The fourth man stepped through the door and onto the path. He, too, carried a canvas bag. The group started moving toward the boat. Now, Jeff told himself. He drew in a breath, held it and started to squeeze.

“Monsieur Kray!” a female voice called.

Jeff froze, then forced himself to relax. There was still time.

Kray and his men turned toward the house. A dark-haired woman in a gray-and-white uniform ran down to the dock. She was holding a piece of paper. Kray waited impatiently as the woman approached him.

They spoke briefly.

The woman, her dark hair pulled away from her face, stepped between Jeff and his target. Jeff waited. Kray read the paper, then handed it back to her and nodded. The woman started toward the villa.

Before he could adjust his sights on Kray again, a flicker of movement from behind the villa caught his attention. He tried to ignore it, but years of training kicked in. Cursing silently, he swung the gun back toward the villa, using the scope as a magnifying lens.

A woman crept up to the rear of the villa, toward the French doors by the breakfast room. She wore jeans, a white T-shirt and running shoes. Despite her casual attire, she was as out of place as a mouse in a cage full of cats. Tourists didn’t go creeping around behind the crime lord’s villa, and operatives didn’t sneak around in the middle of the day. Who the hell was she? Her long blond hair and pale skin told of her Anglo heritage; she wasn’t a native. But she was trying to get in to Kray’s villa. Jeff knew enough about his enemy to know she wasn’t part of his entourage.

Jeff glanced at the maid. The dark-haired woman had paused at the front of the building to light a cigarette. He looked at the blonde and saw she was fitting a key into the French doors and cautiously pushing them open. If the maid smoked one cigarette, that gave the blonde less than two minutes before the maid interrupted her. Damn it all to hell.

He turned his attention back to the men at the end of the dock. In about ten seconds, when the bodyguard climbed into the bobbing boat, he would have a clear shot at Kray. If he killed his old enemy now, the woman would be trapped inside the villa and caught at whatever she was trying to do. He told himself she wasn’t his responsibility. He was here to take out Kray, civilians be damned.

Except that wasn’t his policy. He trained his men to protect civilians. He couldn’t expect any less from himself.

Jeff closed his left eye and gently moved the rifle until the cross hairs centered on Kray’s ear. He touched the trigger.

“Bang, you’re dead,” he said softly, then lowered the rifle to the ground.

Kray spent at least six weeks every spring on the island. He met with his managers, talked money with the various banks that laundered his funds, gave expensive parties. Jeff was also going to be here for six weeks. This was only day five. He had plenty of time to deal with Kray.

He glanced at the maid. She’d finished about half of her cigarette and was watching the men on the boat cast off. One of the bodyguards called out to her. She smiled and waved.

Jeff quickly broke down the rifle and slipped the weapon into his backpack. As he put on his cap and picked up the binoculars, he heard the boat engines roar as they powered the vehicle out toward the open ocean. Blue skies and bluer water beckoned. They wouldn’t be back until late afternoon. He thought about the bags the bodyguards had carried. They might even stay away overnight.

He turned his attention back to the villa. The woman hadn’t reappeared. The maid was down to the last third of her cigarette.

“Come on,” Jeff said quietly. “You’ve got less than thirty seconds until she goes back inside.”

He didn’t know why he was rooting for the mysterious woman, except if she was Kray’s enemy, then she was hisally. He waited, counting out the seconds. The maid finished her cigarette and stubbed out the butt in the decorative sand-filled jar beside the door. She opened the front door and stepped inside.

Damn. Jeff picked up his backpack and rose to his knees. With a last glance at the departing boat, he crawled through the low-lying bushes around the beach and toward the back of the villa. The blonde hadn’t come back out yet. If the maid caught her, she would have a lot of explaining to do. If she did manage to escape, he would follow her and try to find out what she was doing here. Ally or not, he wasn’t going to let anyone get in the way of what had to be done.



Andie Cochran promised herself that when she was safely out of danger, she was going to find a quiet place out in the bushes somewhere and throw up. She hadn’t known it was possible to be this scared and still function.

Her muscles quivered and twitched. Her hands shook, her knees trembled. Even her breathing was ragged. Her stomach lurched threateningly and her heart raced. Nerves had kept her going for the past three weeks and she was hanging on by sheer force of will.

She glanced at her watch. She had no time left. She’d seen the nanny run down the dock toward Kray and his men. It had given her only a moment to act, but she’d taken it. There might not be another chance. Kray and his goons were gone on an overnight fishing trip. The villa was at the far end of the resort and the hotel housekeeping staff wasn’t due for a half hour. No one else was around. The building was empty except for the nanny and Bobby. She had the perfect opportunity to rescue her son.

Andie moved quickly through the silent house. It had changed some since she’d been here last. Of course, that had been over six years ago. She’d been young and innocent. A fool. As she passed by the elegantly appointed living room, she noticed that the cushions and draperies had been replaced, but the heavy carved mahogany furniture was the same. She and Bobby could live for three years on what Kray had paid for the sofa and love seat alone. But then he’d always wanted the best, the most beautiful, the rare. She must have been such a disappointment to him.

It didn’t matter, she reminded herself. None of it mattered. She turned toward the long hallway and ran quietly toward the back bedrooms. Kray would take the master suite for himself, with his bodyguards on either side and across the hall. That left only the last three bedrooms empty for her son.

Most of the doors stood open and she glanced in them as she moved past. Unmade beds, piles of luggage, luxurious furnishings, but no people. When she approached the end of the hallway and the last three rooms, she heard a voice.

“I’m not afraid, I won’t be afraid.”

The soft singsong crooning stopped her in her tracks. Instinctively Andie clutched her hands to her midsection as if she could hold in the pain. Oh, God, what had Kray done to her child?

She flew down the last few feet of corridor toward the sound. When he was frightened, Bobby would huddle in the middle of his bed and rock back and forth, singing the refrain over and over again. It happened during rare Los Angeles thunderstorms, or when he’d snuck downstairs while she was studying and watched a scary movie. She would hear the soft singing, then curl up next to him on the bed, holding him close until he forgot to be afraid.

No one knew that, she thought, fighting the tears. No one knew anything about him. He’d spent the past three weeks alone in a terrifying world. Living with strangers, missing her, not knowing how desperate she’d been to be with him.

She opened the last door on the right and stepped into the darkened room. Drapes had been pulled closed over the wide window. There was a bed in the center of the room, along with stacks of toys, many of them still in their boxes. An untouched breakfast tray sat on a low table.

Her son lay huddled in the center of the bedspread, his back to her.

“Bobby,” she said softly.

The boy turned toward her. His hazel eyes widened; then he sat up slowly as if not able to believe what he was seeing. “Mommy?”

She moved toward him, holding out her arms. He stood up and launched himself at her. She caught him in midair. He wrapped his sturdy legs around her waist and his arms around her neck. Familiar little-boy smells assaulted her, as his warm, small body pressed against her.

“Bobby,” she murmured, clutching him closer. His hair was longer, but still felt the same. Her palm moved up and down against his bony spine, feeling the ridges and thin muscles that would one day make him as big and broad as his father.

He cried, clinging to her as if he would never let go. His relief was as tangible as his thin arms, as real as his words.

“I missed you,” he said between sobs that nearly ripped her in two. “I called for you, but you didn’t come. Didn’t you hear me?”

“No,” she said, pressing her cheek against his. She felt the moisture there, then realized their tears mingled. “I wanted to be here, sweetie, but I couldn’t find you right away. I’m here now.”

Bobby leaned back and stared at her. He sniffed. “I don’t wanna stay, Mommy. I hate Daddy.” He said it defiantly, as if expecting her to scold him. At five, life was simple. Bobby loved his mother, his friends and his teacher. He liked school and tolerated bath time. He hadn’t yet learned to hate. Until Kray had torn him away from the only world he’d ever known. But his anger and fear obviously troubled him. Boys weren’t supposed to hate their fathers.

Most fathers weren’t Kray.

“It’s okay,” she promised, then prayed she wasn’t lying. “I’m going to get you—”

The front door slammed closed. Andie’s heart thumped loudly against her chest as she realized she’d wasted precious time. The nanny had returned. What now?

She glanced at the open bedroom door. The nanny’s footsteps sounded loud on the tiled floor. She and Bobby couldn’t go back that way. She’d hoped her luck would hold and they could walk out the way she’d come in. But that wasn’t going to happen. Still, she would find another way. She had to; Bobby was depending on her.

She set him down. He started to protest, but she touched her fingers to his mouth. “Hush,” she whispered. “We have to escape. You must be very quiet. Do you understand? Not a word.”

He nodded, wide-eyed.

She moved silently to the door and peered out. The nanny was in the great room by the front door. Andie could see the hem of her dress as she bent over a sofa. They still had a few seconds.

Andie closed the door quietly and turned the lock in the knob. Then she glanced around to find another way to escape. There were two doors. She tried them both. One led to a closet, the other to a bathroom. That meant they were trapped. Her gaze lingered on the pulled drapes. Unless they went out the window.

She looked down at her son. He was dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, both new. Kray had taken nothing when he’d stolen her child from her. His athletic shoes were sturdy. He would be fine.

She took his hand tightly in hers, and led the way to the window. “Come on, Bobby. We’ve got to go right now.”

He stared at her while she opened the drapes, then fumbled with the catch. The glass slid open. She pushed out the screen.

“Are we ‘scaping?”

“Yes, we’re escaping.” She released his hand so she could lower the screen to the ground. A blooming azalea bush provided a small amount of cover. From the front of the villa she could hear the tap-tap of the nanny’s heels. The sound kept advancing. Andie didn’t know how much time they had left. They just needed a few seconds. Please, God, grant them that.

The window was about chest height on her, which meant she needed a step up. She glanced around the room, then saw the child-size chair by the low table. She grabbed it, along with the roll from the untouched breakfast tray. She stuffed the bread in her jeans pocket and placed the chair below the window.

Andie looked outside. When she didn’t see anyone, she reached for Bobby, picking him up under his arms. He was heavier than he looked, but she was used to his growing weight. She heaved him onto the windowsill, then stepped onto the chair. The plastic seat sagged under her, but didn’t give way. She had him scoot around so his legs were hanging outside the window, then stretched as far as she could, lowering him to about ten inches from the ground.

“Jump for the last bit,” she said.

“Okay.” He hunched up for the drop. She released him and he hit the ground in an exaggerated crouch. “Made it, Mom,” he said, grinning up at her.

His familiar smile made her weak with relief. Whatever Kray had done to him in the past three weeks, it hadn’t destroyed his spirit. Now they just had to get away and off this damned island.

Using her arms as leverage, she pushed hard off the plastic chair and turned as she moved through the air so that she landed on the windowsill on her hip. She pulled one leg up and through the window, then the other. Motioning Bobby to step back, she dropped to the ground, then picked up the screen.

The footsteps were definitely louder now.

“Bobby?” a female voice called. “You can’t stay in your room all morning. It’s a beautiful day. Would you like to play in the water?”

The footsteps got closer. Andie ducked down behind the building, knowing at any second the nanny was going to try the door and find it locked. She glanced around frantically, wondering which path would be the safest. Fear gripped her, but she had to stay calm. She couldn’t let Bobby know the danger they were in. He’d been through enough.

A sharp ringing cut through the silence. At first she thought she’d imagined the sound. Then she leaned against the villa and exhaled her relief. The footsteps moved away from Bobby’s room as the nanny went to answer the phone.

After closing the window, Andie leaned the screen against the glass, hoping it would take the nanny some time to figure out how Bobby had escaped. With any luck the other woman would search through the house before realizing her charge was gone.

They had a few more seconds reprieve. It would be enough. She took Bobby’s hand and led him around the villa, back toward the way she’d come. She’d left her rented Jeep about a half mile away. It was parked on the side of the highway. All they had to do was get away from the villa and into the low bushes and trees. The undergrowth would protect them. She should know. She’d spent most of yesterday and the four hours since dawn hidden by a small bush, praying no one would discover her. Just thinking about it made her feel itchy all over. For all she knew the plant had been poisonous, but it hadn’t mattered. Getting Bobby out alive was her only priority.

She kept moving and kept low, hugging the building, making sure they couldn’t be seen from the windows. Bobby trailed behind her. She reached back and pulled him close to her body. He looked worried. Why wouldn’t he be? They were escaping from the man who had casually walked into their town house and kidnapped him on the day of his fifth birthday.

Big hazel eyes stared up at her. She took the time to brush the hair from his flushed face and smile.

She picked him up. They would move faster with her carrying him. Besides, they were about to cross open ground. If someone did shoot at them, her body would protect Bobby. She shuddered, not able to believe what she was thinking. This was so far from her regular, boring life. Yet it was painfully real. Kray had threatened to kill her if she came after her son. She believed him.

“I love you, pumpkin,” she said.

“I’m not a pumpkin,” he answered, slipping into the familiar game. “I’m a boy.”

“Really?” She pretended to be surprised. After dropping a quick kiss on his forehead, she took one last look around. “We’re going to run to those trees there,” she said, pointing.

Bobby looked over his shoulder. “Are you going to go fast?”

“Yup.”

“So Daddy can’t find us?”

He was so young to have had to deal with everything that had happened. Her heart ached for him. But there was no time to discuss it. That would come later. When they got away. If they got away.

“Yes, Bobby. So Daddy can’t find us.”

He gripped her arms and buried his head in her shoulder. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Let’s go, she echoed silently. She moved between two large windows and stood up. The stucco building felt warm. She could feel the sweat on her back. Shorts would have been cooler, but she’d been afraid of getting scratched as she crawled through the brush on her way to the villa.

“Here we go,” she said softly, and took off across the manicured lawn.

She moved as quickly as she could, keeping low. Bobby clung to her like a burr, but his weight pulled at her and she could feel the strain on her back and shoulders. Her breath came in rapid pants. At any second she expected to hear the nanny yelling at her to stop. Her muscles tensed in anticipation of the gunshot that would follow, because she sure as hell wasn’t going to stop for anyone.

She ran hard and fast into the low brush and trees, slowing only to avoid a fall. Just a few more feet, she told herself. Then they would be out of view of the villa.

She circled around a tall mahogany tree and ducked behind it. Coming to a stop, she leaned against the massive trunk to catch her breath.

In between her rapid panting, she listened for the sound of someone following. Nothing. Just the call of the gulls and the crash of the waves on the shore. They’d made it.

Andie clutched Bobby closer and nuzzled his neck, making him giggle. She chuckled with him, then raised her head and took off to her right. After going about ten feet, she turned and doubled back.

Something moved. She spun around.

Her scream never got further than her throat. The man had appeared from nowhere. She’d never seen him in all the time she’d been waiting by the villa or heard him moving through the trees. Now he stood in front of her, dressed in military camouflage with a pistol pointing directly at her head.




Chapter 2


“Who the hell are you?” Jeff asked, staring at the woman clutching the child to her chest.

She blinked at him but didn’t answer. The boy in her arms twisted until he could see Jeff; then his mouth dropped open and fear filled his big hazel eyes.

“Mommy, that man has a gun.”

“Hush, Bobby, I know.”

The child looked to be about five or six. Not much older than J.J. had been when he’d been killed in the car explosion. Jeff didn’t want to think about that now. He glared at the woman in front of him. What was going on here? Who was the woman and what was she doing with that kid?

“Is he going to hurt us?” Bobby asked.

“I don’t know.” She adjusted her hold on the boy, pulling him more securely against her. Long blond hair had been pulled back into a braid. Her face paled under her slight tan, her eyes were wide, her mouth trembling.

“Who are you?” she asked with an obvious effort to keep the fear from her voice. “What do you want?”

“That’s what I’d like to know about you. I saw you climb out of the villa with that kid.”

His gaze drifted over her cotton T-shirt and jeans. She wasn’t concealing a weapon. He flicked on the Beretta’s safety, then shoved the pistol into the holster attached to his waist.

Her breathing increased and he could smell her fear. The boy was confused, but not frightened. His mother looked as if she expected to have her throat slit.

“It has nothing to do with you,” she said, desperation adding an edge to her voice. She sidestepped him and continued moving away from the villa. “Please just let us go.”

“I can’t do that,” he said. Not after she’d seen him. Whatever kind of game she was playing with Kray, he didn’t want any part of it. Once his old enemy knew he was on the island, Jeff would be marked and hunted until they found him. Some woman with a grudge against her old lover wasn’t about to interfere with what he had to do.

She spun toward him. Blue eyes met his. He saw her panic. “Oh, God, you work for him.”

He didn’t answer.

“You’re going to kill me. No, you can’t. I won’t let you. He can’t have Bobby back. He can’t.”

She took off running. At first, Jeff was too startled to do more than stare after her. What the hell was she going on about? He didn’t look like one of Kray’s men. They dressed like businessmen and tourists. He glanced down at his camouflage fatigues. He looked as if he were going to lead jungle warfare exercises. But if she was with Kray, she should know all that. And if she wasn’t—

He loped after her, moving quietly through the dense brush. As he got closer, he heard the sound of her breathing. Bobby clung to her shoulder and stared behind them.

“I don’t see him, Mommy,” he said quietly.

“Good.”

“Was he going to hurt us?”

Jeff didn’t bother listening to her response. He circled around them and stepped into her path, two feet in front of her. She saw him and stopped instantly.

Perspiration had collected on her forehead and upper lip. A single drop rolled down to her damp T-shirt. It was barely after ten in the morning, but the temperature was already in the mid-eighties. Warm for late April in the Caribbean.

Her lips moved, but there was no sound. He realized she was praying. She started backing away from him.

“No,” she whispered. “No. No. No.” Her breathing came in rapid pants. The child clung to her.

“Mommy, I’m scared.”

This was more than a lover’s spat, he realized. She was genuinely terrified. “Who are you?” he asked, frustrated and confused. “What are you doing on Kray’s island and who is that kid?”

The woman stared at him, then bent over and let the boy slip to the ground. “Run,” she ordered him.

The child hesitated, hovering near her.

“Run!” she screamed.

Bobby took two steps away. Jeff moved toward him. The kid could get lost in the tropical jungle and not be found for weeks, if ever.

The woman sprang between him and her child. She raised her fists in front of her and balanced on the balls of her feet as if she expected him to physically fight her.

“Listen, lady, let’s just calm down.” He didn’t need a hysterical woman on his hands.

“Run, Bobby,” she called and lunged forward.

Jeff sidestepped neatly, letting her run harmlessly past him. The boy hovered by a large mahogany tree and clasped his arms tightly in front of him. He began to rock back and forth.

Jeff started toward him when he saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned to the right as the woman barreled into his left side. Before he could reach out and steady her, she’d curled her fingers into claws and started going for his eyes.

“Damn it, woman, be careful,” he muttered, grabbing her upper arms to hold her off.

She wrenched free of him and kicked at his knees. Great. She’s had just enough self-defense training to hurt herself, he thought grimly as he jumped out of the way and caught her neatly around her midsection. She screamed and fought him, her hands pulling at his hold. He hauled her hard against him. Her heel came down on his foot. He barely felt the impact through his heavy boots. Her elbow connected with his belly. He exhaled audibly.

Then something or someone rushed him. Small hands grabbed his shirt.

“You let go of my mommy. Let go!”

Jeff turned toward the boy. The woman took advantage of his distraction and went for his gun. He read her intentions before she even got close to the pistol, but it was enough. His brain shut down and he reacted instinctively.

His left hand clamped down hard on her right wrist. With one quick, fluid movement he jerked her arm around behind her, pinning her hand to her back. She winced in pain. He spun them both, putting the woman between him and the boy, then wrapped his right arm around her neck, cutting off her supply of air. He applied enough pressure to frighten her, but not enough to kill.

“Now that I have your attention,” he said softly, “you’re going to answer a few questions.”

He could feel the heat of her body and the curve of her breast where it brushed against his elbow. She trembled against him.

“I’m going to let you breathe enough to talk, but I’m not going to let you go. If you give me any more trouble, I’ll make you very uncomfortable. Do you understand?”

She nodded.

He loosened his hold on her throat. She gasped in a breath of air, then coughed. Bobby rushed at her. “Let her go! You let go of my mommy. My daddy will come back on his big boat and he’ll hurt you.”

Sunlight filtered through the trees and brush around them. The scent of the saltwater and the faint crash of the surf drifted toward them. Jeff stared at the boy, hearing his words, but not wanting to believe them.

The child moved closer and angrily swiped at the tears on his face. Sunlight caught the brown of his hair, then highlighted the shape of his nose and chin. Raw anger radiated from the child’s eyes. Anger so like another man’s rage.

“Let her go,” Bobby demanded again.

Jeff released the woman and stepped back. He bumped into a tree and grasped its smooth trunk for support. Bobby continued to glare at him. Those eyes, so large and expressive. So like his father’s.

Jeff swallowed hard, remembering another child with big eyes, a boy about four years old, laughing as he climbed down the plane’s steps and flew into his father’s arms.

“I crossed an ocean,” J.J. had said proudly as Jeff had swooped him up.

“Did you?”

“I wasn’t afraid.”

Jeanne had followed her son down the steps, moving a little slower, the long flight and time changes making her weary. “He’s not afraid of anything.”

Fierce pride had burned through Jeff, as though he had something to do with his child’s bravery. Perhaps he had taught him something about courage, but more likely, J.J. hadn’t encountered anything to be frightened of. He’d been surrounded by loving parents and family from the moment he’d been born.

So much life snuffed out by a single explosion. An explosion meant for his father.

Jeff stared at the boy in front of him, and at the woman crouched down beside him. She held the child to her and watched him fearfully, as if he’d gone mad. He had gone mad.

Loathing rose up inside of him until he could taste the bitterness. Hatred, anger, rage. Revenge.

He advanced slowly. “What’s your last name, Bobby?”

“C-Cochran,” the child answered.

There had been rumors, of course. Whispers of a brief marriage, hints of a child. But few had seen the mysterious woman or her son. Word on the street was that she’d left Kray after six months of wedded bliss. Kray had kept his secrets. And the woman had kept hers.

Jeff continued to approach. The woman stood up and moved the boy behind her.

“You can’t hurt him,” she said. “He’s just a boy.”

“He’s Kray’s son.”

“No. He’s mine. Until three weeks ago, he’d never even seen his father. He thought he was dead. Bobby is nothing like Kray. Nothing.” Her voice grew louder with each word.

“Mommy?” Bobby clung to her leg and whimpered.

Jeff reached for the custom grip of his pistol. His hand brushed against the cool steel. He froze. What the hell was he doing?

He shook his head to clear away the anger, then tamped down the remaining emotions. He couldn’t let his personal feelings get in the way of his job.

He gave the boy a half smile. “Don’t be scared, son. I won’t hurt you.”

Bobby sniffed, but didn’t release his death grip on his mother’s jeans.

Jeff returned his attention to the woman. She, too, had large eyes. High cheekbones sculpted her face. For the first time he realized she was beautiful enough to stop a man in his tracks and make him think about the forbidden. Or beautiful enough to tempt a man to try to own her, much as Kray owned objects from all over the world.

“How old are you?” he asked Bobby.

“F-five.”

His gaze narrowed as he studied the woman. That meant she’d married Kray about six years ago. Six years ago, when J.J. had been three and growing faster than he’d believed possible. Six years ago, when Jeff’s marriage with Jeanne was crumbling around them and it didn’t seem to matter how much they’d been in love. Six years ago when his wife had accused him of loving his job more than he’d loved her and he’d known in his heart she was right.

Jeff moved closer. The woman froze in place. Fear flickered across her features, tightening her jaw and making her body tremble. But she didn’t back away. She kept herself between him and the boy.

Her run through the jungle and wrestling with him had loosened her braid. Strands of hair drifted across her shoulders. He reached forward. She flinched. Slowly he grabbed the loose hair and pulled it away from her face. His gaze narrowed as he studied her features. Six years ago she hadn’t been blond. He pictured her eyes green instead of blue, her hair cropped above the ears and bright red. His gaze flickered over her T-shirt and jeans. She hadn’t been as curvy then, or dressed so casually. He searched his memory recalling all the pictures of Kray he’d pored over, memorizing everything he could about the man.

One photograph clicked into place. He stared at the blonde, seeing instead a tall, painfully thin party girl in a designer gown. She’d been clinging to Kray’s arm, gazing up at him adoringly. The powerful telescopic lens had caught her perfect features, her wide eyes and mouth. He remembered everything and knew exactly who she was.

Jeff stepped back from her. “You’re the bimbo model.”

“And you’re some macho jerk who gets a kick out of frightening little boys.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I’d always assumed Kray liked his women submissive and decorative. Guess I was wrong.”

“I was a great disappointment to him.”

He glanced at Bobby. “Obviously not. You’re the wife,” he said, wondering how any woman could become involved with low-life scum like Kray. Was it the money? The power? He shook his head. It didn’t matter. He didn’t have time for this.

“Ex-wife,” she said.

He ignored her, then glanced back the way they’d come and wondered how long it would be before someone noticed the kid was missing. Kidnapping Kray’s only son wasn’t going to make the crime lord happy. The woman was in a lot of trouble. No doubt she already knew that.

Damn. If only she hadn’t picked today to try her heroics. Kray would be dead by now and all their problems would be solved.

“Are you going to turn us over to him?” she asked.

He returned his attention to her. She’d squared her shoulders and folded her arms over her chest. Bobby still stood behind her, watching him warily. The kid had spunk, he thought, then frowned. It wasn’t right. Kray’s child lived and breathed while J.J. was long since dead and buried.

The familiar sense of loss swept over him, making him wonder if he would ever be able to look at a young boy and not think of his son.

“I won’t turn you in,” he said shortly and shifted his backpack. He wasn’t going to turn them in, but if he let her go, and she was captured by Kray’s men, she would tell them about him. Once they knew he was on the island, he would be dead before he got another shot at Kray.

He glanced up at the sun in the clear blue sky, then back at her. “You’ve got the boy. How did you plan to get away?”

She clamped her lips shut.

Great. “Listen, lady, I just saw you kidnap Kray’s son. If I was one of the bad guys, don’t you think I’d turn you in and get some kind of reward for my trouble? Kray would pay big money to get you and the kid back.”

She balled her hands into fists. “He doesn’t want me back. I told you, I’m his ex-wife. It’s been over five years since we—” She shook her head. “Why am I explaining this to you? I don’t even know who or what you are. Look at how you’re dressed. My God, you’re probably some paramilitary psycho who gets his kicks out of torturing innocent women and children.” Her voice trembled on each word, and by the end of her speech he could see she was fighting tears.

“Mommy?” Bobby looked up at her. “Mommy, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She blinked several times, then smiled down at her son. “I’m fine. We’re going to go now.” She took Bobby’s hand and turned away.

“Not so fast,” Jeff said, starting after her. “Not until I know exactly what is going on here.”

She looked at him over her shoulder. “It’s not your business.”

“You made it my business when you crashed my party. I don’t trust you. You’re not going anywhere without me.”

“I don’t need your help.”

Help? If things hadn’t been so twisted, he would have laughed out loud. “Who said anything about help? Lady, I don’t care what happens to you. I just want to stay alive on this stinking island. You’re in my way. I want you out of my way. End of story.”

The woman recoiled visibly. “Don’t hurt my son,” she pleaded. “I don’t matter, but he does. Please, please just get him away from Kray. Bobby’s the innocent one in all of this. Surely you can see that. He didn’t even know who his father was. Kray had never even seen him until three weeks ago. I’m begging you, help him.”

“I won’t hurt the kid,” Jeff said in disgust. She was Kray’s ex-wife. She’d known what the man she’d married was and now she was paying the price. That wasn’t his problem. But he understood about the child being a victim. Like J.J. had been a victim. “I can’t let you tell Kray I’m here.”

She laughed. The sound had a slightly hysterical edge to it. “Mister, if he finds me, he’s not going to bother with questions. Trust me.”

“It’s not that simple.”

They stared at each other. The woman blinked first.

“I guess we have a standoff,” she said. “What happens now?”

“You tell me your plan and then I decide what to do with you.”

She swallowed hard. He could see her weighing her alternatives. Her gaze strayed to the gun at his waist.

“If I wanted you dead, it would have been done by now,” he said.

“Thanks. That makes me feel better.”

He shrugged. “If you don’t want me coming with you, then you’re coming with me. Willing or not.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“That’s smart. But the way I see it, you don’t get a vote. I’m stronger, armed and I know what I’m doing.”

He could see her weighing her alternatives, and knew the moment she’d realized she didn’t have a choice in the matter. She must have figured out that he’d been telling the truth when he’d said if he’d wanted to kill her, she would be dead by now.

She’d been strong so far, but she was beginning to unravel around the edges. She had a lot of nerve to keep talking back to him. He would guess she was so close to the edge she either had to fight back as best she could, or fall off the other side. He gave her about four more hours on her own before she lost it completely. She didn’t know it yet, but he was her best hope for survival. What irony. Here he was, standing in the middle of some goddamn tropical jungle talking to Kray’s ex-wife. Somebody somewhere was having a good time at his expense.

“What do you want to know?” she asked quietly.

“A short version of the truth.”

She nodded. “I met Kray six and a half years ago while I was in Europe. I was young and stupid and…I suppose that’s no excuse, is it?”

Bobby crept out from behind her and stared up at him. Jeff forced himself to smile at the boy. The woman rested her hand on the child’s head.

“It was a whirlwind courtship. We were married for a short time. When I realized he wasn’t—” She paused, then grimaced. “When I found out what he was, I left.”

“I find it hard to believe he let you go.”

She shrugged. “I wasn’t nearly ornamental enough and was far too outspoken. I came back to the States and—Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m not fit to clean your boots. You have a real attitude problem.”

Jeff stared at her. She was right. He did. He hated everyone involved with Kray. “An occupational hazard.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Mommy, I’m hungry.”

She crouched down next to her son. “I know you are, Bobby. You haven’t had any breakfast yet, have you?”

He shook his head.

She placed one knee on the ground and pulled a mangled roll out of her jeans pocket. “Here. Have this. We’ll get some more food later.”

“Get to the point,” Jeff said.

The woman looked up at him. Wide blue eyes, the color of the Caribbean sky, held his gaze. Fear flickered there. Concern, anger, but no subterfuge. His gut told him she wasn’t lying. At least not yet.

“I came home, then my doctor confirmed my pregnancy. Kray divorced me. He never said anything about the baby. I wasn’t even sure he knew. I got on with my life. Three weeks ago, he showed up.” She turned away, but not before he saw the tears. “It was Bobby’s fifth birthday. Kray said he was old enough to learn about the business and took him.”

“Just like that?”

She nodded. “He said if I tried to get him back…” She glanced at Bobby. “I got the message.”

So did Jeff. Kray threatened to kill her if she tried to get her son back. “Apparently you don’t know how to listen.”

She rose to her feet. “What was I supposed to do? Just let him keep my son?”

“You could have done a hell of a lot better than sneaking in to save him yourself.”

She stiffened and cleared her throat. “Do you think I’m crazy? I didn’t come out here alone.”

Her first lie. “Listen, lady, I don’t—”

“My name isn’t ‘lady.’ It’s Andrea Cochran. Andie. I’ll thank you to call me that.”

“Fine, Andie. The way I figure it, the maid back at the villa already knows the kid is not in his room. She’s about finished searching the house and grounds, and is going to call Kray on his boat. We can stand here talking about who and what you are, or we can move out of here and stay alive.”

She glared at him. “May I remind you, Rambo, you’re the one who asked about my past.”

“And you told me. Let’s go.” He bent down and picked up Bobby. “Wanna bet you and me together can go faster than your mom alone?” He ended his sentence with a quick wink, forestalling the child’s fear.

Bobby eyed him warily, then nodded slowly. “Mommy can’t go real fast.”

“I’m not surprised. Let’s see if she can keep up.”

Andie grabbed his arm. “Give him back to me.”

Jeff started walking. “He’s too heavy and you’re already exhausted. How far is your car?”

“I’m not sure.” She fell into step behind him. “I left it off the side of the road.”

“Camouflaged?”

“I didn’t hack down a tree and bite off the branches with my bare teeth to cover it, if that’s what you’re asking. I did pull into a turnout and park behind some brush.”

“That’s something.”

“Your faith in my ability is overwhelming.”

“How are you planning on getting off the island?”

She didn’t answer.

He ducked around hanging vines, then stepped over a log, not letting either slow him down. Andie didn’t have the advantage of his training or endurance. He could hear her labored breathing and she struggled to keep up. Bobby held on tightly, his skinny legs wrapped around his waist, one hand holding on to Jeff’s backpack. The kid wasn’t too heavy, but he was awkward. Jeff shifted so Bobby’s weight rested on his hip and kept moving.

After a few minutes, he eyed the sun overhead, then turned slightly east. They would come out on the road about a half mile from the villa. It was unlikely she would have been willing to hike much farther on her own. He hoped she remembered where she’d parked her Jeep.

The temperature rose steadily, and with it the humidity. The call of birds and the drone of insects provided background noise for his tangled thoughts. None of this felt real. Not the boy, or the woman. Not the circumstances in which he found himself. Somewhere in the past few minutes he’d made the decision to get her off the island, mostly because the alternative was being identified before he’d finished what he’d come for. But he sure as hell didn’t want to be saddled with an inexperienced, volatile party girl and her bratty kid.

He glanced down at Bobby and smiled. Okay, so the kid wasn’t so bad. Bobby smiled back shyly and offered the last bit of his roll. “Want some?”

“No, thanks.”

When they neared the road, he paused, waiting for her to catch up. Perspiration coated her face and her cheeks were flushed bright red. More strands of hair had escaped from her braid.

He reached behind him and ripped open the Velcro strap that held his canteen in place. He opened the top and handed it to her.

“Thanks,” she said, between pants. She took a small mouthful of water and swished it around in her mouth before swallowing. “If you were trying to prove a point, you did. Aerobics doesn’t equip you for jungle combat. I see that now. I’ll be sure to have a word with my instructor when I get back.”

In spite of himself, he admired her spunk. “You’re some mouthy woman, you know that?”

“Yeah.” She took another drink, then handed him the canteen. “I know.”

After Bobby had drunk his fill, Jeff took a couple of sips, then slipped the canteen back in place. He shifted the boy to his other side. “The road is about ten feet that way,” he said, pointing. “Which way is your Jeep?”

She walked through the brush to the edge of the road. Once there, she looked to the left, then to the right. He rolled his eyes. “Let me guess. You can’t remember.”

She turned around and glared at him. “Listen, Rambo, I’m not having a good day here. You didn’t kill me, so I assume you’re either toying with me, waiting to turn me back over to Kray or you’re genuinely trying to help. As you pointed out, you’re stronger than me, you’re armed and right now you’re holding my son. I think you’ve got enough of an advantage without resorting to giving me a hard time, as well.”

“The name’s Jeff,” he said.

Her gaze narrowed. “Is there a last name, or don’t I need to know?”

He didn’t answer.

“Figures.” She returned her attention to the empty road. “That way,” she said, pointing.

He followed her out of the brush. A hundred feet or so up the road there was a turnout. As she’d mentioned, the Jeep was parked behind a tree, partially concealed by brush. Someone driving by quickly wouldn’t spot it. Someone looking for it would see it in a minute.

He moved closer, then stopped dead. “That’s your car?”

She nodded cautiously. “What’s wrong with it?”

He looked from the vehicle to her. “It’s a rental.”

“I know. I wasn’t able to bring my own car across the Gulf of Mexico. The water was a little too deep for my convertible.”

“Let me guess. You flew in on a commercial flight, flashing your passport and credit cards at will.” He swore under his breath. “Stupid woman.”

“Don’t call me stupid.”

“Don’t yell at my mommy.”

Kray’s ex-wife and child both glared at him. He bent over and lowered Bobby to the ground. The boy scampered over to stand next to his mother.

“He’s mean,” Bobby announced.

The childish pronouncement shouldn’t have mattered, but Jeff felt a slight sting. Andie laid a protective hand on the kid’s shoulder.

“I may be inexperienced, but I’m not stupid,” she said. “I flew into San Juan, then took a series of tourist boats from one island to the other. I haven’t had to use my passport and I’ve paid for everything in cash.”

“Except for the rental,” he said.

“They wouldn’t let me pay cash. Besides there’s a hundred just like it on the island. The rental company only has Jeeps.”

“Did you pay cash at the hotel in town?”

“I haven’t been to a hotel.”

He raised his eyebrows. “When did you arrive?”

She brushed her hair out of her face. “Two days ago.”

“Where have you been staying?”

“In the Jeep.” She gestured wearily to the jungle around them. “I’ve been sleeping out, when I could sleep. Are there snakes on St. Lucas?”

“Some.” He looked her over, more thoroughly this time. Weariness lined her face. There were shadows under her eyes, and her jeans weren’t as clean as they could have been. Camping out in the jungle for two nights. Not bad.

He walked over and popped the trunk. She’d brought a small bag of clothing. He unzipped it. A pair of jeans, shorts for Bobby, T-shirts and underwear for herself and the boy. No makeup, no impractical shoes or fancy dresses. Next to the satchel was a cardboard box filled with bottled water, fresh fruit and a half-eaten loaf of bread.

“You buy this in a local store?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I went to the port when the cruise ship came in and shopped with the tourists. I’m obviously not a native. I figured it was the only way I would be able to blend in.”

“I’m impressed.”

He’d thought she might say something smart, but instead she smiled. A warm genuine smile that exposed perfect white teeth and made his gut clench. She’d been a model in Europe, earning a living on runways and in print ads. She’d never made it big, and after her marriage to Kray, she’d disappeared. God help the advertising world if they’d ever seen her smile. She could have made millions.

He ignored his typically male reaction to a pretty face, reminding himself it didn’t mean a thing. It sure as hell wasn’t about her specifically. She’d once belonged to Kray. He would rather be roasted over open coals than be attracted to a woman Kray had been with.

He walked around the vehicle. The glove box was locked. He held out his hand for the key. She reached into her jeans pocket and pulled it out. He opened the vehicle’s door, sat on the passenger seat and unlocked the glove box. Her purse spilled out. He dug around in it until he found her wallet. She murmured a protest, but didn’t try to stop him. He looked at her California driver’s license.

“Not a great picture,” he said.

“I was having a bad hair day.”

He flipped through the credit cards. There was enough plastic here to buy a car. She had a couple thousand in cash, and no traveler’s checks. He put the wallet back and searched until he found her passport. It was in her name. Bobby was listed on the document. That was something at least.

“What do you do in your real life, Andie?” he asked, stuffing the purse and its contents back in glove box and finally looking at her.

She stood by the edge of the Jeep. Her spine was straight, defying her weariness. “I go to law school.”

He laughed out loud.

Andie glared at him. “Why are you so surprised? Even bimbos have brains.”

He cleared his throat. “Look, I’m sorry I called you a bimbo. I’m sure you’re a great person, even if you have lousy taste in men. Does Kray know you’re studying law?”

“I don’t care if he does. Despite what you might or might not think of me, until three weeks ago I hadn’t seen or spoken to my ex-husband in over five years.”

Jeff stepped out of the car. “Kray doesn’t let go easily. Especially not a woman like you.”

She rubbed at her damp cheek, then stared at the dirt on her fingertips. “I’m a real prize. You can see the men lining up for miles. It made it hard to get away, as you can imagine.”

He had a feeling that if she stopped mouthing off, she would start crying. He couldn’t deal with her tears. It would make him feel sorry for her, and he didn’t want that. He didn’t want to think of her as a person. Not now, not after what had happened with Jeanne. He couldn’t forget and he wouldn’t forgive. It might not have been Andie Cochran’s fault, but he still blamed her for being alive when his wife wasn’t.

“How are you planning to get away?” he asked. “Back the way you came?”

She stared at him without answering.

He walked over to her, stopping so close that she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. Fear battled with exhaustion and determination.

“Kray controls this island,” he said quietly. “He comes here several times a year to relax.”

“I know that,” she said. “That’s why I was able to find Bobby.”

“You don’t get it. He owns the ground we’re standing on. He owns or controls all the hotels, half the banks and most of the people. He’s everywhere. You’ve been lucky, but don’t expect your luck to hold out. How are you planning on getting off of the island?”

“I won’t tell you. How do I know you’re going to help me? How do I know you aren’t with Kray? Maybe you’re keeping me hostage until he gets back and then you’ll turn me over to him. I won’t tell you anything.” She glared at him. “Not a word. I don’t care what you do to me.”

Before he could decide whether or not to just leave her to her own devices, a sound caught his attention. He cocked his head, trying to identify it.

He swore under his breath.

“Mommy, that man said a really bad word.”

“I know, honey.”

Jeff ignored them both and slipped off his backpack. He pulled out his powerful binoculars. There was a clearing a few feet to the left. He walked to it, then looked out toward the ocean.

Sunlight sparkled off the clear water. Rocks jutted out to meet the sea, while waves crashed over the uneven formation. He waited patiently. In less than a minute, he saw that he’d guessed correctly.

“You’re about to find out if your theory is true,” he said, holding the binoculars out to Andie.

“What do you mean?”

“Look.”

She took them and stared out at the ocean. “So?”

“See that boat? The one that’s followed the coast of the island and is making a wide turn and heading back in the other direction?”

“Yes.”

“Does it look familiar to you?”

She adjusted the focus, then gasped. “Oh, God. Kray.”

“They’re heading back here in a hurry,” Jeff said, then glanced over his shoulder at Bobby. “Looks like somebody figured out you took his kid. It’ll take them about forty minutes to get back to the house. So if I’m with Kray, this is where I make my move.”




Chapter 3


The man leaned casually against the front fender of her rented Jeep, watching her. Waiting for his words to sink in. Waiting for her to crack. Andie swallowed the fear, wondering if she would ever be able to forget the bitter taste of it or let go of the memories.

She’d been nervous before in her life; she’d even been afraid. When she’d been eighteen and had been in the back seat of the car with her parents when an oncoming car had crossed into their lane, she’d been terrified. Not just in those brief seconds before the collision, but in the months afterward. She’d walked away, physically unhurt while her parents had died, leaving her alone in the world. Later, she’d been afraid when she’d married Kray, only to find he wasn’t the suave businessman she’d imagined, but was instead a cold-blooded killer.

But none of those experiences, none of those fears, prepared her for the heart-pounding terror that had gripped her ever since her ex-husband had stolen her son. She’d lived with the fear, had even grown used to the sweaty palms and jumpy nerves. Until today. Until she’d come so close to escaping with Bobby, only to be captured by a stranger who looked at her as if he hated her.

So if I’m with Kray, this is where I make my move.

Andie still clutched the binoculars in her hand. She lowered them to her waist, prepared to throw them at him if he made a move. Not that being hit by them would slow him down much. As he’d already pointed out, he was bigger, stronger and armed. He also moved through the jungle with the casual competence of someone who had been through this before.

Was he with Kray, or someone else? She didn’t know. He hadn’t killed her. Yet. She took a step back toward Bobby. Her son was her only concern. He had to get away from Kray. If he stayed with his father—She shook her head. She couldn’t think about that.

Jeff didn’t budge from where he leaned against her rental. She moved back again, then held out her hand. Bobby slipped his palm against hers as his fingers closed around hers trustingly. They would run, she decided, trying to pick a direction without actually looking around them. She would have to count on adrenaline to give her speed.

Jeff pushed off the vehicle and placed his hands on his hips. He didn’t tower over her, so he couldn’t be more than six foot one or two. His hat shaded his face, hiding his eyes and concealing his expression. He wore a camouflage-colored shirt and pants, heavy boots and a holster. There were several compartments attached to his leather belt. She studied them to avoid looking at the pistol.

“Once they dock, it’ll take them about two minutes to get mobilized,” Jeff said, his low voice calm, as if he were discussing the weather. “He’ll call for reinforcements from around the island. They’ll be looking for a woman and a child traveling alone. Within the hour he’ll know about the rental car charge on your credit card, and by nightfall he’ll figure out you flew from the States into San Juan.”

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Someone who’s willing to help.”

Andie wanted to believe him. She’d spent the past six years looking over her shoulder, always afraid that Kray would show up to take her child away from her, or maybe even drag her back. She hadn’t dared get close to anyone because she couldn’t explain about her past. One mistake, she thought for the thousandth time. How long was she going to have to pay for one mistake?

“Are you with the U.S. military?” she asked, hoping he would say yes.

He shook his head.

“Let me guess. You’re some sort of spy.”

His posture didn’t change, nor did the straight line of his mouth. I can’t do this anymore, she thought, clinging desperately to her fragile grip on reality. It was too much. She was so far out of her element; she didn’t know the rules anymore.

“How were you planning to get off the island?” he asked again.

If he was with Kray, he would already be taking her back to the house, she told herself. If he was with Kray, she wasn’t getting off the island anyway, so what did it matter if he knew her plan? And if he wasn’t, well, she could use a little expert assistance.

“I still don’t trust you,” she said.

“Good. You don’t have to trust me. Just pay attention to my instructions and we’ll all get out of this alive.”

That’s all she wanted. To get Bobby and herself out of here alive. Once they were back on American soil, she could disappear.

“I’ve hired a private plane to fly us to San Juan. There are several flights from there to Florida tonight.”

“How do you know you can trust this guy?”

“I don’t trust him, but I’m paying enough.”

“What if Kray pays more?”

She didn’t have an answer for that. She couldn’t bear to think about it.

“What time are you supposed to meet the pilot?” he asked.

“One o’clock.”

He glanced up at the sky as if he could use the sun to tell time. “Then we’d better get going.” He bent down, picked up his backpack and flung it into the back seat. When she didn’t move, he glanced at her. “You driving or do you want me to?”

“Where are we going?” Now that she’d thrown in with him, she was nervous about getting into the Jeep. What if he had been toying with her?

“We need to get out of here. My Jeep is about two miles down the road. It isn’t a rental, so it can’t be traced. We’ll leave yours there and then—”

“I can’t just leave this at the side of the road.”

“Why not?” he asked as he sat in the passenger seat.

“The rental company will assume I stole it. I don’t need them looking for me as well as Kray.”

“If you’re worried about that, you can call the car rental company when you get to Florida. Tell them that you’ve returned home unexpectedly and that they should come and collect the car. We’ll leave the key under the seat mat.”

She couldn’t think of any more excuses, so she led Bobby over to the Jeep and opened the driver’s door. The boy scrambled in to the back seat. Andie then slid in and inserted the key into the ignition.

“Drive back the way you came,” Jeff said, not bothering to look at her. “In a few minutes you’ll see a dirt turnout, like this one, only deeper. My Jeep is concealed behind some trees. We’ll leave yours in its place. With any luck, Kray and his men won’t find it before you’ve left the island.”

“I think I used up all my luck getting Bobby,” she said and backed the vehicle up so that she could turn it around and head toward town.

Jeff didn’t answer her. She wasn’t surprised. She could feel the disdain radiating from him. He judged her by Kray’s standards. She supposed she couldn’t blame him. She still judged herself for what had happened six and a half years ago. She should have known. She should have seen the clues. But she hadn’t. She’d been young and stupid, and now she and her child were paying the price.

The steering was stiff on her rental. Andie gripped the plastic wheel tightly and concentrated on the road ahead. There wasn’t any traffic this far out on the island. She hadn’t seen anyone when she’d driven in, either. That was something. The man beside her sat comfortably in the bucket seat. Almost as if he were relaxed. If she hadn’t noticed the watchful pose of his head or the way his right hand was never far from his gun, she would have assumed he wasn’t worried about what they were doing.

They rounded a bend in the narrow two-lane road. “Over there,” Jeff said, pointing toward a turnoff.

As she turned off the ignition, he opened the passenger door. He bent over and collected her purse from the glove box, then grabbed his backpack from the seat behind him.

“Through here,” he said, leading the way without bothering to make sure she followed.

Andie wondered if it was because he assumed she would trail after him, knowing he was her greatest chance at survival or if it was because he didn’t care if she came with him or not. Then she frowned. He’d taken her purse, which had all her cash. Subtle but deadly. That’s how she would describe Jeff with-no-last-name.

She opened the trunk and removed the small suitcase she’d brought. Bobby climbed out of the rental and stood next to her.

“I’m hungry,” he said.

She opened the bag of bread and pulled out a slice.

He grimaced. “I want a hot dog.”

“Later, honey. This is all we have now. When we get to San Juan, I’ll buy you a hot dog.”

“He needs to get changed,” Jeff said.

“Why?”

“Kray has a description of what he’s wearing. It won’t put them off much, but it may help if he has on different clothes.”

“That makes sense.” She opened the suitcase and took out the shorts and T-shirt she’d brought with her.

While she helped Bobby change his clothes, Jeff pulled away several large branches, exposing his Jeep. The vehicle was about ten years older than her rental. The tan paint had given way to rust. The tires were muddy, but closer inspection showed them to be new. The seats were torn and damp from the recent rains. There were a hundred vehicles exactly like this one in the capital city of St. Lucas, all of them belonging to poor locals. She saw instantly that between the new paint and rental sticker, her vehicle had stood out on the roads, even though she’d been trying to blend in.

“Did you buy that?” she asked, repacking the suitcase and zipping it closed.

“Yeah. It’s more expensive, but easier in the end. Cash can’t be traced.”

“I should have thought of that.”

“Why? You’ve got no experience at this.”

“And you have?”

He didn’t answer.

Figures. Rambo types were always monosyllabic. She wondered if they got a pay deduction every time they spoke.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Jeff said.

“I’m ready. Let me just get the box of food.” She set the suitcase down next to his Jeep, then returned to her own vehicle. After slipping the key under the mat, she did a quick check to make sure she wasn’t leaving anything behind. The rental agreement was still in the glove box. She pocketed that, then closed the trunk and picked up the cardboard box containing her meager supplies.

“There’s plenty of room,” Jeff said, jerking his head toward his open trunk.

She glanced inside, half expecting to see some powerful long-range weapon or a secret decoding device. There was nothing but an oily rag, a jack that looked rusty enough to collapse at the first sign of use and a baseball cap advertising a local beer. She set the box down.

Jeff pulled off his hat and ran his hand through his hair. With the brim shading his eyes and covering his short, cropped hair, she hadn’t seen his coloring, but she’d expected him to be dark, like Kray. Instead, Jeff was blond with blue eyes and the clean-cut good looks of a California surfer. The image was so contrary to what she’d just experienced that she almost smiled. Almost.

Their gazes locked. She saw a flash of cold determination flicker in his gaze, the confidence and willingness to do anything to get the job done. He wasn’t some guy on holiday; he was a professional at this. She didn’t know why he was here, and she didn’t want to know. Better for both of them if she just got out of his way.

“I’m ready,” she said quietly.

He nodded, then dropped his gaze to her legs. “You don’t have any shorts, do you?”

“No. Why?”

“We obviously can’t pass as natives. The next best thing is to go as tourists.”

At that she did smile. “Yeah, right. No one’s going to notice your unusual outfit there, are they?”

Bobby, who’d been following their conversation, sidled over to her and peered at Jeff. “Why’s your shirt all funny like that?”

Jeff glanced down at the fatigues he was wearing. He winked at the boy. The friendly act, so incongruous when compared with who he was and what he’d done, made Andie feel as if she were trapped in a carnival fun house. Everything was distorted and nothing was as it seemed.

“I was playing hide-and-seek,” he said. “With this shirt and these pants, it’s harder for people to see me.”

“Mommy didn’t see you.”

“That’s right,” Andie said. If she’d seen him, she would have taken off in the opposite direction.

“There’s a baseball cap in the trunk,” Jeff said as he started unbuttoning his shirt. “Bobby can wear it.” He nodded his head toward the boy.

When he had unbuttoned the shirt to the waistband of his fatigues, he jerked it free. Andie didn’t know if she should turn her back or run like hell.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Trying to fit in. As you pointed out, I don’t look like a tourist. Yet.”

He pulled the shirt off, exposing a red tank top. He sat on the bumper and unlaced his military boots. After taking off the boots and his socks, he unbuckled the thick leather belt at his waist and laid it on the driver’s seat. He unzipped his pants and slipped them down. Underneath he wore wrinkled white shorts. He pulled the pistol from its holster. For a split second Andie thought she’d made a life-threatening mistake, but he tucked the weapon in the waistband of his shorts, against the small of his back, and pulled the tank top over the bulge.

From his backpack, he dug out a second baseball cap. This one advertised a local brand of rum. He slipped one on his head, then took the other from her hands and adjusted it to the smallest size, then gave it to Bobby. A pair of worn leather sandals completed his outfit. In less than two minutes he’d gone from trained military expert to beach bum.

He was tanned, with long legs and strong arms. She could see the ripple of muscles as he moved. The shorts fitted over his narrow hips, then hung loosely past his thighs. He was right—he did look like a tourist. She glanced at his face, but the brim of the hat hid it from view. It also covered most of his blond hair. Only a half inch or so stuck out the bottom. Conservative haircut, familiarity with weapons, knowledge of Kray and his line of work. If Jeff wasn’t military, he sure was government. She didn’t know if that piece of information made her feel better or worse. She shrugged. At this point, she couldn’t afford to be picky.

Working quickly, he put his fatigues in his backpack. He transferred money and a mean-looking knife to his shorts pocket, then dropped the backpack into the trunk and closed it.

“Let’s go,” he said.

Andie nodded and picked up Bobby. Instead of letting him climb into the back seat, she sat down and pulled him onto her lap. Just in case, she thought. She wanted to be able to run with him, if she had to. Despite the fact Jeff hadn’t taken her to Kray, she still didn’t trust him.

Jeff slipped in beside her and started the engine. He pulled the Jeep in a tight circle, then headed toward the road. As they drove out of the brush, she held her breath, afraid that Kray’s men would be waiting. There was no one on the side of the road. Just her rental sitting in the shade.

He stopped long enough for her to drive it back into his vehicle’s hiding place; then he glanced both ways and hit the gas. They took off toward town.

Andie fought the urge to glance behind them. With the Jeep’s open top and low doors, she felt as if they were completely exposed. That as soon as they were spotted, they would be gunned down.

Violent pictures filled her mind. Not just her wild images about what Kray would do to her if he caught her, but ugly memories from six years ago. From the moment when the pieces had clicked into place and she’d realized her husband wasn’t the man she’d thought him to be.

“Just a couple more hours and you’ll be safe,” Jeff said. “Once you get off the island, you’ll be okay. When you get back to the States, you’re going to have to lay low.”

She nodded. She already knew that much. She had money stashed in a couple of safety deposit boxes in different cities. After Kray had stolen Bobby, it had taken her three weeks to figure out parental kidnapping wasn’t high on anyone’s list of crimes to be solved. Especially when the father in question had taken his son out of the country. Once she’d realized no one was going to help her, she’d come up with her own plan and had quickly put it into action. Ironically, the generous settlement Kray had given her at the time of the divorce would pay for her escape from him.

Bobby leaned back against her and closed his eyes. “You tired, honey?” she asked.

“Nope.”

But his eyelids fluttered shut. She couldn’t blame him. After the morning they’d had, she was exhausted, as well. She wished she could trust someone enough to watch Bobby so she could curl up and sleep for a week, but she couldn’t. She only had herself to depend on.

“There’s a private airstrip north of town,” Jeff said quietly, a few minutes later. “Is that the one you’re going to use?”

Andie glanced at him. He slowed the Jeep and met her gaze. Dark blue eyes, almost the color of her own, stared back at her. His lashes were thick and only a couple of shades darker than his hair, although the tips were lighter, as if they’d been bleached by the sun. He squinted slightly and lines fanned out to his temples.

He was good-looking enough to be the poster boy for the local tourist commission. Come to St. Lucas and find romance. Only, she wasn’t looking for romance, and from what she’d seen of Jeff, he wasn’t too fond of her. She wondered how much of that was because she was obviously in over her head and how much was because she was Kray’s ex-wife. Did it matter? As long as he helped her get away, he could think what he liked.

“Yes,” she said, after a moment. “I’m supposed to meet a pilot there named Michael.”

“How will you know him?”

She wrinkled her nose. “He has a tattoo of a snake on his left wrist.”

“That should inspire confidence.”

She smiled. “I’ll admit I would feel better if it had been of a flying creature rather than one that slithers. But he didn’t ask any questions.”

Jeff returned his attention to the narrow dirt road. “That doesn’t mean he won’t.”

“I know.”

“Do you have a story prepared?”

“Yes.”

“You want to try it out on me?”

“Not really.”

He chuckled. “Good.”

She stared at him. He was smiling. Honest to God smiling. “What’s so funny?” she asked.

“Nothing. It’s good that you’ve already learned not to trust anyone unless you have to. At least you’re not as dumb—” His lips straightened.

“As I look,” she finished for him. “Thanks for the compliment.”

She was twenty-seven years old. She should be used to it by now. The average male assumed pretty equaled stupid. No doubt from Jeff’s perspective, her coming to Kray’s island and kidnapping Kray’s only son by herself did seem pretty stupid. So what? Kray hadn’t caught her yet.

Andie stared out the passenger side, watching the tropical trees and vines give way to flatter plowed fields. Her eyes burned. She told herself it was fatigue and the wind, nothing else.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Jeff said abruptly.

“Forget it.”

“It was just a knee-jerk reaction.”

“I’ll accept the ‘jerk’ part of the apology.”

“I guess I am, huh?” The Jeep slowed to a stop.

She turned and looked at him. He angled himself toward her, resting his left forearm over the steering wheel. Bobby murmured softly in his sleep. Andie shifted him so her legs wouldn’t go numb.

She studied Jeff’s short haircut, the lines of weariness around his eyes, the firm set of his jaw. She wanted to look lower, but she was suddenly aware of the fact that his loose tank top and shorts left very little of his lean, tanned body to the imagination.

Something flickered in her belly. Horror filled her as she realized it was attraction. Unnecessary, unwelcome, ill-timed attraction. Oh, God, not now.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Nobody you want to know.”

She was willing to believe that.

“There’s a road to the airport that goes around the town. We can avoid most of the city. We’ll take that.”

“Fine with me.”

He reached his right hand toward her face. He was going to touch her. She didn’t know whether or not to bolt or lean forward. Bobby prevented her from doing the former and panic from acting on the latter. So she simply stayed still as he touched a loose strand of hair.

“People are going to remember this,” he said, then frowned and turned back to the road.

“Am I expected to cut it off?” she asked.

“We don’t have to be that extreme. There’ll be several carts selling things for the tourists just outside the city. I’ll get something there to help disguise you.”

“But I’m going to be getting on a plane in a couple of hours. No one’s going to see me but you and the pilot.”

“Exactly,” Jeff said, pausing to read signs at a crossroads, then turning left. “Better for all of us if the pilot can’t describe you in detail.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t thought of that.

Jeff drove through the narrow streets, careful to keep within the speed limit. As they neared the city, three-and four-story buildings rose up on either side. Wide wrought-iron balconies jutted out several feet above the ground. The architecture dated back to the first Spanish explorers, but its beauty was lost on Andie. She tried to look straight ahead and not draw attention to herself. At the same time, she wanted to look around and see if anyone had noticed them. It was hard to tell who was watching whom. Shoppers crowded together on the almost nonexistent sidewalks. Drivers blasted horns as they fought for small parking spaces on the busy road.

From open-windowed restaurants and bakeries, Andie could smell food and exotic spices. Her stomach gurgled.

“Sounds like Bobby isn’t the only one who’s hungry,” Jeff said.

“I’m fine.”

Being near town made her nervous. She didn’t want to stop and eat. They could do that once they got to San Juan. There it would be easy to get lost in the large tourist areas. Several cruise ships docked every day and unloaded thousands of passengers who crawled over the old city. From there, it was only a short hop to Florida and safety.

Jeff took a right turn, leaving the busy street behind them, then turned right again and came out on a paved two-lane road.

“We can circle around the rest of the city from here,” he said.

“Great.”

Up ahead was a freestanding stall manned by an old woman in native dress. Hats, printed T-shirts and locally made dresses hung from the rickety sides of her place of business. Jeff slowed the Jeep and pulled onto the red clay shoulder. He angled the nose of the vehicle in slightly, so that the passenger side was blocked from the woman’s view by a large tree.

“I’ll get you a hat,” he said, stepping out and moving toward the stall.

Andie stared after him, watching his long, bare legs cover the distance in a matter of seconds. She could see the power in his stride. His blond good looks and clothing tagged him as an American tourist. The old woman could see there were other people in the Jeep with him, but she wouldn’t be able to identify the occupants and she hadn’t seen a woman and young boy traveling alone together. Jeff had thought of everything.

Andie glanced down at the driver’s side and the key dangling from the ignition. Except he’d left her with a means of escape.

She could simply drive off and leave him stranded. By the time he could arrange other transportation, she would be away from St. Lucas.

She shifted slightly, ready to lift Bobby off of her. Her gaze drifted to the stand where Jeff was buying her a hat. He could have left her on her own, or even turned her in to Kray but he hadn’t. Obviously he wasn’t overwhelmed by her feminine charms. If anything, he seemed to alternate between disgust and ambivalence. She trusted those feelings more than she would have trusted an unreserved effort of assistance. She didn’t know why he was on the island and she didn’t want to know. Was he part of some agency’s plan to capture Kray? She wouldn’t want to interfere with that. The sooner Kray was locked up for his crimes, the sooner she and Bobby would be safe from him.

Her indecision cost precious time, and before she could make up her mind, Jeff had paid the old woman and was starting back toward them.

She glanced from the dangling key to him, and saw the exact moment he figured out what she was thinking. His pace didn’t increase or his stride lengthen, but his shoulders straightened slightly and his gaze narrowed.

“You made the right decision,” he said, tossing her a paper bag and sliding into the driver’s seat.

“What would you have done if I’d gone?” she asked, then told herself she was a fool for wanting to know. The way her luck was running, Jeff would tell her the truth.

“Either fired a shot and blown out one of the tires, or told Kray where you were going.”

“Whatever happened to chivalry?”

“Put on your hat so we can get out of here.” He waited until she’d set the large-brimmed straw hat on her head before starting the engine and pulling out onto the road.

The bag also contained sunglasses and a gauzy cotton shirt in bright blue. “What’s this for?” she asked.

“When you get to San Juan, dump the jeans. Buy some shorts. You’ll look more like a tourist. The shirt is something for you to wear until you can stock up on supplies. If the pilot describes you to Kray, you don’t want to make it easy for his men to find you.”

Even as he gave her instructions, his voice was edged with contempt. “Why do you hate me?” she blurted out.

Jeff was silent so long, she decided he wasn’t going to answer. Just as well. It didn’t matter what he thought of her. She needed to concentrate on Bobby and how to keep him safe.

The road narrowed and a small plane flew overhead. The thick island air seemed to press down upon her. Six and a half years ago, she’d thought St. Lucas was paradise. Now it was a prison.

They rounded a bend in the road. Up ahead was a collection of wooden buildings, all small and in need of paint. Tin roofs rusted from the elements. An assortment of planes stretched out next to a long single runway. The plane she’d seen in the air came down slowly, drifting like a leaf on a breeze. Its engine got louder as it descended; then the plane touched down and rolled to a stop.

“We made it,” she said, shaking Bobby gently. “Come on, honey, wake up.”

Bobby stirred on her lap. “I’m hungry.”

“I know. There’s some bread.”

He shook his head. “I wanna hot dog.”

“In a couple of hours we’ll be in San Juan and I’ll buy you three hot dogs.”

Hazel eyes stared sleepily up at her. “With ‘tato chips?”

“Sure, and a soda, too. But not yet, okay?”

Bobby nodded.

Jeff pulled up in front of the large building and turned off the engine. Andie gave him a tight smile. “Thanks for the lift and the lesson in survival.” She touched her wide-brimmed hat. “We’ll be fine from here.”

He nodded. “I’ll stay to see that you get off all right.”

“It’s not necessary.”

“It is to me.”

“Yeah, right. That’s why you’ve been so friendly to me.”

Blue eyes met and held her own. Something ugly and painful flashed across his expression. Something that made her want to touch him and ease the suffering. Then it was gone and she was looking at the cool expression of a handsome, but deadly stranger.

“It’s not you. It’s your lousy taste in men.”

If he was talking about Kray, she had no rebuttal. She understood why he made his judgment, but she didn’t have to like it. “Everybody gets one mistake. He’s mine,” she said flippantly, so he wouldn’t know how his words had stung. “Come on, Bobby. Let’s go find our pilot.”

She collected her small cloth suitcase and filled it with the remaining water bottles. Bobby refused any bread or fruit, stubbornly insisting he wanted a hot dog. Andie prayed for patience.

When she’d settled her purse strap over her shoulder, she looked at the buildings, then started out toward the largest. It wasn’t much bigger than a two-car garage, but she could hear voices from inside. Before she entered the building, Jeff touched her arm.

“Let me keep the boy,” he said.

She stared up at him as her heart began to pound against her ribs. Oh, no. Not that. She’d trusted him and now he was going to steal her child? It wasn’t fair. She glanced around wildly for a weapon or something to hold him off.

He grabbed her arm. “Dammit, that’s not what I meant.” His fingers bit into her. “Stop it, Andie. I’m not going to hurt you or Bobby.”

She swallowed the fear and struggled for control. “Then what are you saying?”

“I don’t like this.” He jerked his head toward the building. “It’s been too easy and I have a bad feeling. What I’m saying is that I’ll stay here with Bobby while you go make your deal with the pilot. If something happens—I’m not saying it will—but if something happens, he won’t know about Bobby.”

“What could happen?”

From Jeff’s shuttered expression, he could probably name her a hundred things, but he didn’t detail them. Instead, he shrugged as if to say it was up to her.

He made sense. She hated that. He didn’t like her because of Kray and he expected her to leave her son with him? She couldn’t.

She didn’t have another choice.

“Stand just outside the door so I can see you,” she said, then looked at Bobby and tried to smile. “Stay here with Jeff. I’ll be right back.”

“But I’m hungry.”

“I know.” Andie left her suitcase beside Bobby, then straightened her back and marched into the building. When she crossed the threshold, she looked back to make sure Jeff was right where she’d left him. He was.

Inside the building, several large airplane engines lay in pieces. Four men were bent over different workbenches. The room smelled of sweat, beer and machine oil. Andie walked to a cleared section in the center and waited for someone to notice her. Finally, the dark-haired man closest to her looked up.

“Can I help you, lady?” he asked, getting to his feet and smiling at her.

She smiled tightly back and was grateful Jeff’s hat hid her hair color. The way this man’s gaze was roving over her body, he would have every detail memorized.

She glanced at his wrist, but didn’t see a snake tattoo. “I’m here to meet a pilot. His name is Michael.”

The dark-haired man frowned. “Michael no here.”

“We were supposed to meet at one.”

“Michael no coming in.”

She didn’t like this one bit. Andie glanced over her shoulder. Jeff and Bobby weren’t in the doorway. She was about to panic, when she saw a flash of red from Jeff’s tank top. They were just outside the door, keeping out of sight. She hadn’t completely agreed with the precaution before, but the bad feeling growing in her stomach told her it was for the best.

“Why won’t he be in?”

Dark brown eyes met hers. “None of the pilots are coming in today. All flights out have been canceled.”

“Canceled? Why? The weather’s perfect.”

“Not weather, lady.” The man pulled a rag out of his pocket and started cleaning his hands. “Orders. No flights leave today. Maybe not tomorrow, either.”

Kray. He’d ordered the airport closed. Damn.

“You tell me what you want,” the man said, moving closer. “I can help.”

“I don’t need anything,” she said, backing up slowly. “Really. Michael was just going to…ah, he was going to give me a tour of the island from the air. He was recommended by my boss back in New Jersey.”

“Michael no give tours,” the man said. “Who are you? What’s your name?”

From behind her came a sharp cry. “Let me go! Mommy, make him let me go. I’m hungry. I want a hot dog.”

The man whirled toward the sound. “Who’s that? Your boy?”

He said something in a language she’d never heard before. The other three men rose from their benches.

“Dammit, run,” Jeff called to her.

She turned and ran. The mechanic raced after her.

By the time she reached the open door, Jeff already had the Jeep started and was circling around toward her. She heard the man behind her gaining. She dug deep for her fading last reserves and lunged for the vehicle. Jeff leaned across and opened the passenger’s door. Bobby was in the back seat, clinging to the sides, crying.

“Mommy, he’s right behind you. Mommy!”

The man reached for her. She felt the brush of his fingers against her back. She shrieked and dove for the seat. The man grabbed again, this time tugging off her wide-brimmed hat.

As the Jeep sped off, she glanced back and saw him staring after them. His expression hardened as he took in her features. A blond woman with a boy. He would be able to identify her to Kray.

She was trapped on Kray’s island, trying to kidnap Kray’s only son. She was alone with no way to escape. She looked at Jeff. He didn’t spare her a glance as he drove expertly over the winding roads, turning again and again, as if he feared they were being followed.

“You all right?” he asked at last.

“Yes,” she whispered, knowing she had to lie for Bobby’s sake at least.

“You can kiss your plane ride goodbye,” he said.

“I figured that.”

“Now what?” he asked.

Now what? she echoed silently, then bit down on her lower lip to stifle the sob that threatened. Now she looked until she found another way out.




Chapter 4


Jeff continued driving north, away from the city and away from Kray’s villa. He circled around small villages, turned onto one-lane roads, always keeping the ocean in sight and on his left.

The woman trembled. Every few seconds a tremor swept through her. She clasped her hands tightly together, her fingers squeezing so hard, the skin around her knuckles turned white. Even Bobby was quiet, as if he somehow understood the danger.

At the top of a rise, Jeff pulled into a dirt turnout. There weren’t any other cars or people around. With a quick jerk of the key, he shut off the engine. Instantly the silence swallowed them.

Straight ahead was the blue Caribbean sea. Below, waves slowly slipped ashore, aimlessly flowing onto the beach before retreating. Lush plants surrounded them. Large palm trees provided shade. After a few moments, the birds and insects scared off by the Jeep’s presence returned. The low hum of wings and sharp calls of separated mates filled the air.

He should have been able to smell the flowers, perhaps even the salty sea. Instead, there was only the scent of a woman’s fear. Andie Cochran had run out of options.

He glanced over his shoulder. Bobby was lying on the back seat. The boy had found a few leaves on the floor of the open-air vehicle and lined them up like soldiers.

Jeff knew the easiest thing in the world would be to walk away. They weren’t his responsibility. Maybe Andie would get lucky and find another way off the island. Maybe he would be able to finish the job he was here to do before she got caught. Or maybe Kray would choose not to be merciful when he found her. Maybe he wouldn’t kill her quickly, but instead would punish her for taking his son.

Jeff rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You have another plan?”

“Of course,” she said brightly. “Just drop us at the edge of town. We’ll be fine.”

“And pigs fly.”

She turned to look at him. “I’m telling the truth.” She made an X over her left breast. “I swear.”

“You don’t know how much I want to believe that,” he mumbled under his breath.

“You can, Rambo. Look, I don’t need to be with someone who thinks I’m slightly less worthy of life than the local variety of cockroach. So get us back to town and forget you ever saw us.”

He was surprised at her vehemence. He shifted in his seat, wondering how she’d been able to read him so easily. There’d been a time when no one had known what he was thinking. Of course it had been five years since he’d been in the field.

Rusty instincts or not, he was the best Andie and the kid were going to find on this island. Letting her go wasn’t an option. Not only because she could identify him, but because she was an American citizen. He didn’t have to like her, he only had to get her away from Kray. He started the engine.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Back to town.”

“You’re going to let us go?”

He glanced at her. The sunglasses hid her eyes, but he knew what she was thinking. He was going to take her at her word and dump her. The problem was she couldn’t decide if she was relieved or terrified.

“Let’s get some food and more supplies. Then we’ll discuss your options,” he said. “The man at the airport didn’t get a good look at me, so that helps. We’ll head to the shopping center by the harbor. The cruise ships stay in port until around six so the whole area will be crawling with tourists.” He shifted into gear. “Your braid’s come loose.”

He pressed on the gas, easing the vehicle out into the narrow road. As he headed back toward town, Andie dug through her purse for a brush. He tried not to notice as she drew her blond braid over her shoulder and brushed the strands free. He stared straight ahead as she raised her arms to begin refastening her hair in its neat style. But from the corner of his eye he could see the way her T-shirt tightened over her breasts.

His fingers clenched on the steering wheel as he swore under his breath. He didn’t want to notice she was a woman. He sure as hell didn’t want to feel his blood flowing hotter and faster through his aroused body. In the five years Jeanne had been gone, he’d avoided women and any connections, even the brief impersonal kind. He hadn’t needed anything but his pain and memories. He hated that his body chose this moment to come back to life. So what if she was attractive? She was Kray’s wife. She’d chosen to marry a killer. She and her kid were alive while his family was dead.

Refusing to look at her or acknowledge her, he drove down the coast toward town. As they got closer to the port, he began to check his mirrors. Up ahead, a white cruise ship sat in the harbor, an elegant vessel dwarfing not only the other boats, but the harbor itself.

“Do you think Kray already has men in town?” Andie asked.

He was still angry about getting turned on. “Yes,” he said, the single word curt.

“If the man at the airport phoned about me, they’ll be looking for us in a Jeep.”

“I know that.”

He continued on the waterfront road until they reached the edge of the shopping district. On the left were ancient stone buildings with low ceilings and small windows. Tourists swarmed along the narrow sidewalks. Laughter and bits of conversation carried to him. Everyone was having a wonderful time. Brightly flowered dresses and shopping bags blended into a kaleidoscope of colors. Tour buses lined up across from the shops, while cruise passengers disembarked.

Jeff scanned the vehicles in front of him, then checked the mirrors again. Kray’s men could be anywhere. There was an alley between a linen shop and one of the many jewelry stores. He turned left into the alley and parked next to three other Jeeps. Only then did he look at Andie.

She clutched her purse to her stomach. Her skin was pale under her tan. Her sunglasses hid her eyes, but the fear was still tangible.

“Look like you’re having a good time,” he said, getting out of the driver’s side. Bobby scrambled after him.

“I wanna hot dog!” the boy announced.

“I know you do, sport.” Jeff tugged on the brim of the kid’s baseball cap. “We’ll find one here.”

Bobby’s smile was brilliant. And exactly like his mother’s. Jeff stared at the child, seeing instead another boy. J.J. had had Jeanne’s smile. The flash of pain was an explosion in his chest. Jeff swallowed hard and fought to keep his face expressionless. When this was over, when Andie and her kid were gone, he would remember one last time. He would recall the face of his wife and his child, remember their laughter; then he would have his vengeance. Maybe then he could lay his ghosts to rest.

Andie joined them. She settled her purse on her shoulder and took Bobby’s hand. “I’m ready,” she said.




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