One Dark Wish, page 17
He covered her hand with his much-warmer fingers. “It’ll be okay.”
She attempted a smile. “I hope so.”
Samantha appeared, Pete behind her. “If Sarah’s house is being watched and Nate wants to be near her, they should stay in Rafe and Juliet’s apartment above Dessie’s dress shop. Since they’re on their honeymoon, I know they wouldn’t mind.”
“It’s also across the courtyard from Samantha’s apartment,” Pete said. “I’ll be with Samantha as well.”
“Excellent idea.” Calum took out his phone and texted.
“That’s kind,” Sarah said, “but I have things to do.”
“I know,” Samantha said, “but I also know Nate. He’s not going to leave your side until whatever is going on is over. And you can’t stay here. If you think the gym stinks, you should smell the upstairs area where the men live.” She pinched her nose for emphasis.
Sarah tried not to laugh. It was hard to imagine a place smelling even more male than the gym. “I’m not—”
“It’s a perfect plan.” Calum smiled at her. “I’ll have Ivers bring some things over later.”
“I,” Samantha said firmly, “will pick out Sarah’s things. But I’d appreciate it if Ivers could drive me.” Samantha took Sarah’s hand and squeezed. “I’ll leave the key underneath Persephone’s statue in the courtyard between Juliet’s Lily and the apartment. You can’t miss her. She’s running away, and she’s naked. Because, apparently, when women run away their clothes fall off.”
Sarah laughed in spite of her bad mood.
Pete kissed Samantha’s head. “I’m all for that.”
Samantha smiled wide.
This was moving quickly, and Sarah didn’t know these people. While they seemed trustworthy, she’d made mistakes before. And she didn’t like being manipulated. “This isn’t necessary.”
“What’s not necessary?” Nate strode over to her, his sheer size and the forcefulness in his green eyes making her feel small and feminine. She was fine with the feminine part, not as comfortable with the small part.
“Samantha,” Calum said, “suggested you and Sarah stay at the apartment above Dessie’s tonight. Samantha and Ivers will grab a few things for Sarah.” Calum frowned and looked out the front window. “You didn’t drive here, did you?”
“No,” Nate said. “We ran. Both of Sarah’s vehicles are still in the driveway. My bike is in an alley down the street.”
“I’ll get your bike,” Pete said, “but won’t Elliot notice if one of Sarah’s cars is gone?”
“Good point.” Calum tapped his lower lip with his index finger.
“They can use the Juliet’s Lily truck.” Samantha took out her phone and started scrolling. “We don’t have any big projects, and no one would question it being driven around town. And Sarah, let’s trade cell numbers. That way you can text me with a list of things you need.”
“Okay.” Sarah had that tight feeling in her chest that told her things were out of control. “But—”
“Excuse us, gentlemen.” Samantha took Sarah’s arm and dragged her into the office, away from the men. After shutting the door, she faced Sarah with hard eyes and crossed arms. “I know a lot has happened, but don’t be the stupid heroine who gets killed because she goes into the basement by herself, at night, in a thunderstorm.”
She’d never do that. “Maybe if I knew what was going on—”
Samantha laughed. “You won’t know what’s going on until it’s too late. That’s how these things have been working.”
“What things?” Sarah didn’t have time for this. She had to get to the hotel to check on the auction. Then there was her dad. And it was almost four thirty in the afternoon.
“Scary things.”
Sarah went to the door’s window and watched Nate talk with Calum and Luke. Nate put two cell phones on the desk. Luke found a phone in a drawer and gave it to Nate. She hadn’t noticed before, but Nate’s jeans were streaked with dirt, and his T-shirt was torn at the shoulder.
“Sarah.” Samantha came over. “Nate and his men have a determined enemy, and for some reason you’re in his sights. If you want to get out of this unscathed, let them do their jobs. Let Nate protect you.”
“It’s not that I don’t need help.” Was that her voice, so dry and scratchy? “I don’t know if I can trust him.” She waved her hand toward the gym with the pirate flags. “Trust any of this.”
“Since you’ve known Nate, has he hurt you?”
“Of course not! He’s been kind.” He’d been more than that, but Sarah wasn’t sharing.
“And protective?”
Sarah sank into a chair near the desk. “That’s his way.”
“You saw him in the training room.” Samantha took the chair next to Sarah’s. “You watched him with his men. He gave orders that made sure they’d be safe, out of harm’s way, while he volunteered to figure out what’s going on. Alone.” She took Sarah’s hands and squeezed. “Now tell me what kind of man Nate is.”
Sarah looked away. “He’s considerate.”
Samantha snorted and dropped Sarah’s hands. “Nate’s only concern is for those he loves. Period. He will go to whatever lengths to make sure they’re safe. If you care anything at all about him, don’t make his job harder. Let him protect you, and don’t get in his way.”
Calum opened the door and entered. “Sarah, if Sheriff Boudreaux, Detectives Garza or Elliot, or even that cop in Charleston want to speak with you, call me first. Do not speak to them alone.”
“Thank you.” Sarah stood, not sure how she was going to pay Calum for all of his help. But that was a detail on Future Sarah’s to-worry list.
“I have to leave.” Samantha stood. “Sarah, may I have your house key? I’ll return it with your things.”
“I left them on the kitchen counter. The front door is probably still unlocked.”
Samantha touched Sarah’s shoulder and said in a soft voice, “Everything will work out.” A second later, she was gone.
Calum cleared his throat. “Did you know our mothers were once friends?”
Now this was unexpected. “No. My mother rarely spoke about her life in Savannah, except for telling ghost stories.”
Calum crossed his arms and tapped his fingers on his biceps. “Our mothers were friends until—”
“Until my mother got pregnant at sixteen and left town when I was three?” Sarah shrugged. “It’s okay. I know.”
“I’m sorry you didn’t grow up in Savannah. We might’ve been childhood friends.”
It was an odd thing to say, but the sadness in his voice made her wonder if he’d not had many friends. “That would’ve been fun.” She added a smile because it was the truth.
He took her hand, kissed it, and left the room. She was glad. She needed the time alone to think. If she didn’t solve her cipher, she’d lose her father. If she did—betraying Nate in the process—an innocent man would die. The fact that Nate was leaving town didn’t make her decision easier. She didn’t want him to leave thinking she’d hurt him.
She picked up the photo of Nate and his men. In full uniforms, carrying weapons, and wearing greasepaint on their faces, they all looked strong, virile, and fearsome. They looked undefeatable. Yet the men in the training room earlier had had drooped shoulders and weary lines around their eyes. They’d looked defeated.
With one finger, she touched Nate’s face. Then she studied the man who stood off to the side, away but still part of the group. His ginger hair was longish, and he had a beard. She wondered if it was Kells. Of all the weird things that had happened today, one stood out—the handwritten note from the hooded man: Don’t trust Kells Torridan.
Sarah returned the frame and paced, thinking through her options. Specifically, her grant proposal. Although sending in the proposal to win the grant to restore the diary wouldn’t help her solve the cipher in time, it might give her leverage to negotiate with Remiel. Maybe, once he realized what the grant money would be used for, he’d change the deadline.
And if she didn’t win the grant money, neither the Prince nor Cassio nor her boss would ever know.
After double-checking that Nate was busy with his men, she took her laptop out of her bag and placed it on a filing cabinet next to the printer with a connector cord. Once she plugged in her laptop and opened her document, she hit print. She tapped her foot while a circle spun on the screen.
ComeOnComeOnComeOn.
Her laptop bleeped and…Ugh. An error message popped up. She needed a printer driver? Another minute later, she had the driver downloaded. The machine hummed and started printing. Of course it was the oldest, loudest printer ever made, and it rattled on the metal filing cabinet. She ran over to shut the door.
Each page took forever, and as they came off she placed them into a worn manila file folder she’d found in the trash. How long did it take to print ninety pages?
While waiting, she found the receipt for her photos and called the phone number on the bottom. Thank goodness someone answered on the first ring. “I was wondering if photo order 012383 was ready for pickup?”
“That was picked up an hour ago.”
Sarah reread the receipt. “Are you sure? I have my receipt.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am.” The girl sounded like she was barely sixteen, her voice unconcerned.
There was no point in arguing. The photos were gone because someone was anticipating her every move. “Thank you.” She hung up and clutched her phone. She could send the report without the photos. It wouldn’t be as strong a submission, but the report would still include her research material, which—thank God—she’d submitted last week. One thing this event did tell her: if Cassio was determined to stop her, the diary was worth studying.
The printer halted, and she used a binder clip she’d found on the desk to keep the document together. Then she unhooked her laptop and stashed it, along with the folder, in her bag. She exhaled and sank into a chair. Now all she had to do was mail it without Nate finding out.
She closed her eyes. It wasn’t a great plan, but forward movement nonetheless.
“What did you do?”
Sarah opened her eyes to see Nate standing a few feet away in the open doorway. His narrow eyes matched his tight lips.
“Excuse me?”
“Printing.” He waved to Luke, who sat at the reception desk outside the office. “A notice on his laptop screen said a print job was in progress. And no one else has a computer tied to that printer.”
She stood and held out her hands. “I printed a report I need.”
“This wouldn’t be the report you wanted to send to the granting agency tonight? The report explaining why Rebecca Prideaux’s diary is worth restoring?”
She straightened her shoulders. “I have a plan that will help both of us.”
He came closer until she could see tiny brown flecks around the edges of his green eyes. “I will not endanger one of my men to solve that cipher. Do you understand?”
She did, actually. She got why he was angry and defensive. The problem was she couldn’t afford to care. “I have a plan to buy us more time. Would you like to hear it, or would you rather hide in a run-down pirate-themed gym for the rest of your life?”
* * *
Does Sarah not comprehend the stakes? Nate grabbed two water bottles from the refrigerator and handed one to her. What he needed was food. But what he wanted was for Sarah to follow a damn order.
He knew she was smart enough. It was her stubbornness that was the problem. Clearly, she’d never been part of a team. He took two deep breaths and drank half his bottle in one swallow. Instead of arguing with her, he tamped down his irritation and took the low-conflict path. If he wanted to protect her, he had to get her to work with him instead of against him. “What’s your plan?”
She paced the room, her pink skirt flowing around her legs. “If I send in my grant request, then go to Remiel and tell him I’m working on—not solving—the cipher, maybe he’ll give us more time to figure out how to protect your men and free my father.”
He finished his bottle and tossed it in the recycling bin. “Remiel won’t go for it. Neither will the Prince.”
She took a sip of water and used her fist to wipe off drips on her chin. “We just give up? Your buddy Jack stays safe in prison while my dad is locked away forever?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Why can’t you see that Remiel and the Prince are both using you.” She put her bottle on the desk and used one finger beneath his chin to raise his head. Her sweater, buttoned beneath her breasts, only emphasized her feminine curves.
Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he suddenly hated the Prince and Remiel for screwing with his life and taking him away from what he really wanted to be doing.
“Nate,” she whispered, “the Prince pitted us against each other. He’s hoping we’ll betray each other instead of working together.”
Nate exhaled until it felt like his lungs were turning inside out. She was right. Remiel hated them. The Prince was manipulating them. And for some unknown reason, Nate and his men had landed ass on the ground in the center of a war between Remiel and the Prince. A war that had started years earlier. A war not of Nate’s making. “Sarah—”
“It’s not just about the cipher.” She stood on her toes until her lips were inches from his. “My research and your map are linked somehow. That murder on the isle this morning is too similar to those heroin dealers killed three years ago behind O’Malley’s Pub. Not to mention the Latin phrase on the tomb that matches your envelope.”
He scrubbed his face with his hands. He didn’t trust himself not to kiss her again. “It’s also possible everything is related to an operation my men and I participated in five years ago.”
She found her bottle and took another sip. “What could a Charleston banker, heroin dealers, and a Latin phrase have to do with a Special Forces mission on the other side of the world?”
“No idea.” And the truth was he had less than two days to find out because there was no way he was leaving behind this mess for his men to mop up.
She played with the cap of her bottle and stared at the map. For a woman who’d had a lot to say, she’d run out of words. Maybe she was in shock. Or just overwhelmed. Hell, he was in a constant state of cortisol-releasing stress. Yet, since their run-in with Etienne and Cassio, Sarah had done nothing but handle things with courage.
A fact that confirmed his first assessment of her. Sarah was a woman who dealt with facts first. The question was how would she deal with the emotional fallout? Because he knew from brutal, firsthand experience—the kind of experience gained in a POW camp—that the emotional fallout was what destroyed the man.
He also could tell, from both spending time with her and reading her résumé, that she wasn’t the type to let things go and she didn’t trust easily. Small wonder she couldn’t follow a damn order.
A ringing cell phone startled both of them, and she pulled it out of her pocket. “It’s my boss. I need to take it.”
“Of course.” He went to the window overlooking the street that would never see a horse and carriage. This area hadn’t been gentrified yet, and from the deterioration of the asphalt and sidewalks, it wouldn’t happen soon. He didn’t mind. The ruin made this place perfect for his men to hide. He sucked in his stomach. Sarah’s words earlier had struck him hard in the chest. He was sick of hiding. And in a few days, he wouldn’t just be hiding. He’d be hidden.
“Yes.” Nate half-turned to watch her pace. “I’m on my way.” She hung up. “That’s the second time my boss has called. I need to go to the Mansion on Forsyth Park Hotel. There’s a problem with the auction catalog.”
“Wait here.” He headed for the door. “When I return, I’ll take you. And then we’ll talk about your report.”
“Nate, you don’t have to come.” She grabbed his arm as he passed her. Her small hands had a remarkably tight grip. “You have things to do too.”
“Staying with you is my priority.” He kissed her again, making it hard and quick when he’d much rather make it soft and long. As he left the room, he added, “Don’t leave without me.”
Chapter 21
Nate opened the door to the lobby of the Mansion on Forsyth Park Hotel, and Sarah entered. The cold AC made her gasp. The lobby had been constructed from marble, gilt, and mirrors, and she saw her reflection everywhere. Good thing she’d brushed her hair before walking over.
“It’s freezing in here,” Nate said.
“I have a shawl in my bag if I need it.”
“What don’t you have in there?” Laughter floated below the words. “That thing is almost as heavy as my rucksack.”
“I don’t carry history books.” She smiled at his teasing glint. They’d come to a truce of sorts. He’d wanted to come along, and she’d let him. But she was still determined to mail her report.
And she had to force herself not to think about his kiss. By now, she should be used to his sudden, impulsive kisses. Each one completely different. The first in the police station, passionate and unexpected. The second on the cheek, sweet and gentle. The third in the café, powerful and overwhelming. The fourth against the wall in the alley, desperate and demanding. And there’d been a few pecks along the way, given as if he thought she wouldn’t notice.
But this fifth kiss? Short yet filled with yearning.
She touched her lips and let him walk ahead. He’d changed into black cargo pants and T-shirt, all covered with a biker jacket that, while cleaner than the jeans he’d trudged through the tunnels in, also made him appear more…masculine.
“Nate?” She adjusted the bag on her shoulder. “You gave Luke two cell phones earlier.”
He scanned the room like her father used to do. “When I shouldered Etienne as he left your house, I stole his cell phone.”
