Romance and danger—worth the hype...

Arizona Ivy won’t stop until she gets her story. The fearless blonde is rebuilding her life—leaving Hollywood and heartbreak behind—to jump-start her journalism career. When a woman is abducted, she knows she has her big break, and wants the truth. If only the victim’s ruggedly handsome brother wouldn’t keep getting in her way.

Braden McCrae knows that danger isn’t a game. A military weapons engineer, the tough, smart specialist can take on just about anything. But when his sister is kidnapped, he has to be extra careful. And he’s not going to allow a sexy reporter to distract him. They’ll have enough trouble taking down the arms dealer who has his sister. Passion could be a deadly distraction. Passion could be a deadly distraction.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let you kiss me. I wasn’t ready.”

He couldn’t take her mind off Trevor. She should be ready by now, and Braden should be able to get her mind off another man.

“Losing him doesn’t mean you have to live the rest of your life alone, pursuing a career that will consume all your time.”

“Trevor has nothing to do with why I want to be a reporter,” Arizona said.

“Yes, he does. You should follow your heart.”

“Is that what you did?”

“Yes.”

“Then why are you so familiar with guns? And why are you not afraid of dangerous situations? It’s like you’re ready for battle 24/7.”

Had she really picked up on that? Her insight was keen. But he wasn’t going to talk about that with her. He didn’t talk about it with anyone.

“My sister is missing,” he said. “I’ve never been in a situation like this before.”

Ivy Avengers: Family bonds. Family secrets.

Dear Reader,

I am excited to bring you a new miniseries about a big family with a famous dad. There will be plenty of trouble to keep the action high and love to keep the heart warm.

In this first novel of the miniseries, meet Arizona Ivy, an adventurer whose last brush with love has left her skittish—the only thing she is skittish of! I chose her to start the miniseries because she’s the youngest of eight and at odds with her heritage. Braden McCrae is the perfect man to make her grow. He may seem like an ordinary guy, but underneath his smarts is a man who can’t be pushed around.

This was one of my favorite books to write. It’s different. Fresh and new. So, here’s to wishing you hours of pleasant reading! May it take you away as it did for me.

Sincerely,

Jennifer

Front Page Affair

Jennifer Morey

www.millsandboon.co.uk

JENNIFER MOREY

Two-time 2009 RITA® Award nominee and a Golden Quill winner for Best First Book for The Secret Soldier, Jennifer Morey writes contemporary romance and romantic suspense. Project manager par jour, she works for the space systems segment of a satellite imagery and information company. She lives in sunny Denver, Colorado. She can be reached through her website, www.jennifermorey.com, and on Facebook.

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

For Maddie, my beautiful, sweet yellow Lab who I lost to cancer in August 2012. Petunia is likened after her in this story, and in the next of this miniseries. My baby girl.

Contents

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

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Excerpt

Chapter 1

Braden McCrae left work in a hurry. Pushing through the front doors of the building, he strode toward the parking lot. There had been a tremor in his dad’s voice when he called. He wouldn’t talk over the phone, only insisted on meeting him and Mom at his house. What had happened? Had one of his grandparents died? Were his parents all right? Or had his sister gotten herself into more trouble? Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. His dad never asked to meet in person if he didn’t have something serious to tell him.

Reaching his Subaru, he hesitated before getting inside. A white BMW was parked in the outer lot. A couple of days ago, one just like it was parked down the street from his house. Was it the same SUV? Immediately on the offensive, he took in all the details he could from this distance. Someone was sitting inside, probably a man. He couldn’t see the license plate from here.

A long-buried instinct emerged, the fighter in him. Life had taught him to be ready for anything. And he was now.

Driving out of the parking lot, he turned onto the street and watched his rearview mirror. Sure enough, the BMW pulled out of the lot. Who would follow him and why? Would his ex-wife go to such extremes? She’d been angry he’d appealed the divorce terms. He was only disputing the credit card balances, but she had thrown a fit. She’d never liked being married to a mere engineer. She had high hopes of him soaring to the top, running the company and earning an equally top salary. He wasn’t opposed to making lots of money; he just didn’t want the job that went along with it. Certain executives he’d observed were only as good as their ability to warp the truth. Only one line needed to be on their résumé—how many years of experience they had warping the truth.

And Serena had expected him to become that. It had led to their demise. Why did some women think they could change a man? What was wrong with the version they married? Braden didn’t get it. He didn’t get women.

Engineering was in his blood. He’d spent countless hours taking things apart and putting them back together when he was a kid. He was a natural at math and enjoyed blowing things up. He was happy with his job. But Serena didn’t care about that.

He checked the mirror again. The BMW was several cars back. Serena was many things, but he didn’t think she was the type to hire a thug to scare him into dropping the appeal. And there was only one way to find out who was in that BMW, and why. When he was a teenager, he learned how to avoid bullies and was afraid of defending himself. Now a grown man, he was no longer afraid and knew how to defend himself.

Turning a corner, he drove slowly until the SUV appeared, and then went into a parking lot of a small, organic market. Leaning over, he opened his glove box and took out a big flashlight, covertly seeing the BMW park along the street.

Braden got out of his Subaru and headed toward the vehicle, careful to keep cars within close proximity in case he needed to take cover. There was a man inside. He was wearing a baseball cap and a dark blue, lightweight jacket. He was a big man. Seeing his approach, long, solid flashlight swinging at his side, the man stared at him a second or two. He hadn’t expected his prey to become the predator. He also didn’t appear afraid of that. Calmly, the man restarted the BMW engine that he’d presumptuously shut off. Then he looked at Braden again, as though making sure he hadn’t misinterpreted his approach.

Nope. No misinterpretation. Braden fully intended to use this flashlight if he had to. But the man wisely decided not to go up against him. The man steered out into the street.

Braden jogged to the sidewalk and read the license plate. After memorizing the number, he headed back toward his Subaru. Whoever the man was hadn’t anticipated Braden would notice the tail, much less take action. Not many knew that side of him. To most, he was an average guy. But he was also someone who couldn’t be pushed around. Ever since he was a kid, he’d worked hard at that.

But this was a situation that could go beyond kickboxing and target practice in his free time. Why was someone tailing him?

Back inside his car, his father’s tone over the phone reclaimed him. Was the reason the man in the BMW had singled him out related to whatever he’d go home to find out from his parents?

Fifteen minutes were too long. As he turned onto his street, he saw his parents’ car in the driveway of his middle-class, three-bedroom house. They had a key and must be waiting for him inside. A sense of foreboding kept him on alert.

After going through the garage, he stepped into his open kitchen, spotting his parents across the island counter. His mother stood rigidly beside the bulky, round pine table and his dad rose up from a chair, pushing it in and standing behind it. In their late fifties, they looked a decade younger. His dad was tall and fit, wearing jeans and a long-sleeved white, pink and gray finely striped shirt. His hazel eyes were heavy with apprehension and his salt-and-pepper hair uncombed. His mother kept her hair dyed the chocolate brown of her youth and her petite body in shape. As usual, she was put together in big, stylish silver-and-blue earrings, a matching necklace and designer slacks and blouse. The whites around her green eyes were red from crying. Braden had gotten his eyes from his mother and his dark hair from his father, although his dad wore his shorter.

It was difficult to see them so shaken.

“We have something to tell you,” his mother said, her still-beautiful face ravaged with strain.

“It’s your sister,” his dad finished for her.

So, it was his sister. Her trouble wasn’t over. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“She’s gone missing.”

Missing might mean dead. She had gone to the British Virgin Islands on vacation last week. Now she was missing.

Damn it. What would he do if he never saw her again? He and his sister were close in age and had done a lot together. They lost contact when they went to college, and then he’d gotten married. She hadn’t married and was the top executive he’d never be.

“How long?”

“She hasn’t answered her phone in two days.” His dad leaned on the back of the chair, his hands gripping the top, pale wood bar.

Why hadn’t they called him sooner? He subdued his reproach. They probably didn’t want to worry him unnecessarily. Now it was necessary. His parents hadn’t achieved success by being impulsive. His dad was an architect who’d started a log business that provided well for his family. His mother didn’t need her psychology degree, but she practiced out of their home.

“Has she called you?” his mother asked, looping her arm with his dad’s.

“No. Not since before she left.” She’d been upset over losing her job. “Have you talked to the police there?”

His mother began crying softly.

Freeing his arm from hers, his dad pulled her closer. “According to them, she never checked in at the Frenchman’s Point Hotel, but the manager there said he saw her get into a taxi.”

That offered a small glimmer of hope. “Where did the taxi take her?”

“The detective didn’t know. Neither did the hotel manager. He only saw her get into the taxi.”

“Have they questioned the driver?”

His mother’s crying deepened into a wrenching sound.

“He was found shot to death later that night.”

Murdered? The sting of shock bled into deflated hope. Tatum could be in serious trouble.

“The airline confirmed she boarded her plane,” his dad said unnecessarily. If she was seen getting into a taxi, she must have made it to the island. “The detective assigned to the case said she didn’t rent a car,” his dad rambled on, a father distraught. “He couldn’t find evidence that she took a cab there. The other taxi drivers there didn’t have a record and didn’t recognize her picture.”

Frenchman’s Cay was an island off the coast of Tortola. “Who is the detective?”

“Monty Crawford.”

At least he was intent on searching. “Did Tatum mention she might meet someone there?”

“No.” His dad shook his head, barely hanging on to his composure. “We’ve searched through her things here in Denver. Nothing is missing and nothing is out of place that we can tell.”

Braden contemplated telling them about the BMW and just as quickly decided to hold off. They had enough trauma to deal with right now. He’d go search for his sister and keep them informed as much as possible. The detective may seem to be doing that for them, but Braden could not stay here and wait. He had to do something. Finding a missing person wasn’t his area of expertise, however. He wasn’t proficient in this sort of thing, especially on foreign land, but he did know someone who was.

* * *

Halfway through their Monopoly game, Arizona Ivy had had enough. “I’m twenty-five. I can make my own decisions.”

At her sharp tone, her brother’s blue eyes lifted from the board game. Blond-haired, tall and muscular, he had Viking good looks. All of her brothers and sisters had that Scandinavian appearance. “You aren’t thinking it through. As usual, you’re being impulsive.”

She didn’t respond. She had a real shot at making a good career for herself and Lincoln was stepping all over her toes. She wrote the latest gossip for a not-so-great entertainment rag. Who was divorcing whom. Who was cheating. Who was gay. She could do better than that. Her dad had helped her get a lead on a job, and Lincoln thought she was setting herself up for failure. She should stick with what she was good at, and that was entertainment.

Just because their father was a huge success as a movie producer didn’t mean his kids were destined for entertainment careers. She had her own aspirations. And that was a much more serious career than the one she currently had. If only she could find a way to prove she was capable.

“It’s still your turn,” Lincoln said.

She didn’t feel like playing anymore. “I have to go now.”

While he protested with a brotherly “Aww, come on,” she stood. Tucking her shoulder-blade-length blond hair behind one ear, she grabbed her car keys.

“Don’t be a big baby, Arizona. I tell you these things because I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Then support me.” She left his 1950s, newly remodeled kitchen. Big baby. He always treated her like a kid. His little sister. She was tired of that, too.

“I do support you. I wish you would listen to me,” he called from his seat at the table.

“I do listen to you,” she called back. “I wish you would listen to me!”

It wasn’t fair. He was her only sibling out of eight that she could talk to. Guess not anymore. He was the oldest and she was the youngest. She was an adult now. She didn’t need guidance. She could guide her own way.

Through his living room, the lack of feminine touches further sparked her ire. No flowers. No frilly decor. Just furniture and trim. She sure wished he’d find himself a woman. Then maybe he’d be too preoccupied to stick his nose in her business!

With snowballing energy, she swung the door open and came face-to-face with a man standing there, his finger poised over the doorbell. The first things that struck her were his lean, hard biceps and broad chest. Next was his military-short, dark brown hair and sexy stubble that peppered a square jaw. And last were his intense green eyes. Something about them ignited warm embers.

As he lowered his hand, his bold gaze went down her body and back up again, brushing her with tingles. She’d worn jean shorts and strappy red high heels, which showcased her long legs. A metallic-beaded, sleeveless pink top did the same for her breasts and small waist. Her aim wasn’t to be overly sexy, just fun. Some people didn’t take it that way. Was he one of them?

His pique polo shirt was wrinkle-free and tucked neatly into his jeans. His shoes were leather. He was clean. Smelled that way, too. He appeared a lot more conservative than her. But she’d felt what lay underneath. It was in the green fire of his eyes.

“Hi,” she said.

At her flirtatious tone, blinds shut tight over his emotions. Rigid control. Big, giant, thick wall.

What had caused his withdrawal? She hadn’t mistaken the chemistry.

“I’m here to see Lincoln Ivy.”

His deep voice melted through her.

“Braden, is that you?” Her brother appeared with a big smile on the porch. “Good to see you.” Arizona stepped aside as he reached forward and shook his hand.

“It’s been a while,” Braden said.

“Yes. Too long.”

Arizona stuck her hand out. “I’m Arizona. Ivy. Arizona Ivy. Lincoln’s sister.”

Braden reluctantly shook her hand. “Braden McCrae.”

She felt silly for being so awkward. Why was she trying so hard to get his attention? Normally, she was uncontrollably picky when a handsome man crossed her path. She looked for flaws and held back until she either found them and had an excuse to walk away, or didn’t and dated them until the threat of more sent her scurrying.

“How do you know my brother?” He had smooth skin, and yet not. Strong. Slightly calloused.

“We went to college together.” He let go of her hand.

As before, her skin tingled as though he’d caressed her intimately.

“What brings you here?” Lincoln sent her a curious look, obviously having noticed her reaction to his friend.

“I wish I could say it’s just to pay a visit. Unfortunately, it’s urgent.”

“What is it?” Lincoln was perplexed now. His college friend had come for a reason and it wasn’t to catch up.

“My sister is missing. She went to the British Virgin Islands on vacation and said she was going to call my parents but never did. The police are saying she was seen getting into a taxi in front of Frenchman’s Point Hotel.”

Arizona felt a one-two punch as Braden dropped his news. Missing. In the Virgin Islands. Plummeted back in time, she struggled with sobering memories and the ever-hovering sense of helplessness she could never quite shed.

“Are the police looking for her?” Lincoln asked.

“Yes. They’ve done some investigating, but nothing has turned up so far.”

We’re very sorry, but there’s nothing more we can do...

The St. Thomas police hadn’t known where Trevor’s abductors had taken him. They’d demanded money, and her father had paid, but they’d killed Trevor anyway. To this day, they hadn’t been caught. The injustice of that had stayed with her.

Arizona was vaguely aware of Braden glancing over her before saying to Lincoln, “I’m going down there to look for her myself.”

“And you came to me for help?” Lincoln asked, still perplexed.

“You’re a bounty hunter. You know how to find people.”

Lincoln fell into an undecided silence.

He hadn’t been a bounty hunter when Trevor had been kidnapped. A few years had passed since that traumatic event. It may as well have happened a few months ago. Arizona’s heart went out to Braden, and especially to his mother. She well understood what they were going through.

Except, all she sensed from him was determination to find his sister. He hadn’t experienced the awfulness of losing someone close, knowing how horribly that person must have suffered before dying. She hoped he never would have to. “What if she decided to go somewhere else?” she asked. “Maybe she’s having fun and not thinking about calling her mother.” It’s what Arizona would do. Calling home would be the last thing on her mind. “How old is she?”

“Twenty-nine. She would have called. And she would have returned my mother’s calls. I hope she’s only having fun. But I can’t wait to find out. If I wait, it might be too late for her.”

Arizona lowered her head as that struck a raw chord in her. She had waited until it was too late. Her fiancé had been kidnapped right under her nose. And no one had been able to do a thing to save him. That was the worst part. The helplessness. How many times had she wished there had been something she could have done?

She caught Braden watching her fully now, soft curiosity over what had changed her mood. Her brother’s scrutiny was far less empathetic. Braden’s plight was beginning to circle her heart, close in and compel her to act.

“Did she go there alone?” she asked Braden.

He nodded. “She’d been dealing with so much after being asked to resign from American Freight Forwarding Services. She went to get away. That’s why Mom was so worried. With all that happened...”

Dawning sprinkled down on Arizona. “Your sister is Tatum McCrae?” The female executive had allegedly allowed several unlicensed arms shipments to a prohibited country and had been asked to resign amidst a scandalous government investigation. She’d claimed she was being blamed for something she hadn’t done. Luckily, the government had agreed and hadn’t charged her. Export violations rarely made big news, but Arizona had been fascinated by the story, by the woman. Her reputation was solid. She was charitable and respected, a role model for young women.

If something had happened to her, it would make a great story. News of a woman like that vanishing in a place like Tortola would stir up a decent amount of public interest. This could be just the story she needed to boost her career. It would probably wind up in the news eventually, anyway. And Arizona never turned down a chance to fight for victims.

Noticing her brother’s now very acute discord, she cocked her head in challenge. He was going to try to stop her again.

Lincoln turned to Braden. “I’ll go with you to Tortola.”

Surprise drew Braden’s head back. “You will?”

Clever. So that’s how he thought he’d stop her.

“Lincoln...”

“I also know some people I can call—” Lincoln talked over her. “We’ll look into her latest credit card use and other indicators of her whereabouts.”

“That would be great.”

Her brother was going to make this difficult for her. She wasn’t going to let him ignore her. “Michael Benson said if I brought him a writing sample, and it was as good as Dad said it would be, he’d hire me.”

Michael Benson was editor in chief for a prominent news magazine.

Lincoln sighed as Braden followed what must surely seem a strange turn of conversation. “That isn’t the real reason you want to go.”

“You want to do a story on my sister?” Braden searched her for answers, disconcerting her. He didn’t sound pleased with the idea.

“Benson isn’t going to hire you,” her brother interrupted. “He’s just saying that because he owes Dad a favor.”

And the favor was reading her writing sample. Nothing more. “If I give him quality work, he’ll hire me.”

“You write about fashion and gossip. Nobody would ever take you seriously.”

That hurt. Braden’s brow had lowered enough to put a crease above his nose. He didn’t like where this was headed.

“It’s not what you think,” she told him. “This is an opportunity to do something worthy.”

“Why are you pushing this, Arizona? It’s not what you really want.”

She turned to her brother. “How do you know what I want?”

“This isn’t about being taken seriously. This is about losing Trevor. Anytime you hear someone is being victimized, you take leaps without thinking. It’s what made you have the harebrained idea of becoming an international news reporter.”

Braden looked from one to the other. “Who is Trevor?”

“Her fiancé. He—”

“Lincoln,” Arizona stopped him. It was too personal.

Braden studied her a moment and didn’t press for details. “I won’t let you exploit my sister for a news story.”

He said it so matter-of-factly that there was no doubt he meant it. “It’s going to get in the news anyway. Why not let me break it? Besides, I could help you. Publicity will put pressure on police to work hard to find her.”

“I don’t need that kind of help. This is a private family matter.”

“You heard the man. You aren’t going,” Lincoln said.

Now she was getting mad. “Why do you always think whatever I do is a bandage for what happened?”

“Because everything you’ve done since then has been exactly that.”

She had to find a way to convince him he was wrong. “Define everything.”

“You’ve gone overboard in the last few years,” Lincoln said. “If you aren’t saving puppies or volunteering to help natural disaster victims, you’re jumping out of planes every week. Slow down.”

“I don’t jump out of airplanes every week.”

“You know what I’m saying, A.”

She loved it when he called her A. It had begun when she was in school and received the one and only A in twelfth grade. That’s when she’d aspired to go to college. That one A, and her brother making her feel so good about it.

“I need a good story,” she said simply, pleading.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have come.” Braden turned to leave and then froze.

Arizona looked to see what had stopped him. A white BMW was parked across the street. A man sat inside.

“Who is that?” her brother asked.

With all three of them staring, the man in the BMW drove into the street and disappeared under the canopy of trees down the road.

Braden swore.

The rough sound captivated Arizona. So did his edgy profile. The translucence of his eyes radiated strength. So did his straight, proportioned nose, for some unknown reason to her. A mouth worth exploring. She didn’t understand the potency of her response to him.

Who are you? she nearly asked.

He turned to her, caught what must be her rapturous look, and the tension along his brow tightened. “Do you really jump out of planes?”

“Occasionally.” She was still drowning in his sex appeal.

His eyes scanned all over her face, nothing showing as to what he thought of her favorite sport. “Then go do that instead of a story on my sister.”

While the affront doused the heat simmering in her, he glanced up the street once more.

Lincoln noticed. “Are you being followed?”

“I shouldn’t have come.” He started to walk away.

“Wait.”

Reluctantly, he faced them again. Arizona began to feel contrite. He’d come for help from Lincoln, and she had interfered.

She sighed her exasperation. “All right. I’m leaving.”

Kissing her brother’s cheek, she said to Braden, “Nice to meet you.”

He just watched her, surprise emerging into his nearly unreadable eyes. He hadn’t expected her to back down. Well, she lived with aggressive reporters all the time. While she intended to do a serious story, she couldn’t inflict the same torture on Braden and his sister. She’d just have to find another opportunity.

Making her way down the narrow driveway, she started for her car. The street in this old neighborhood wasn’t wide, leaving little room for cars to pass. The houses were big and close together, with mature trees towering above. All part of the charm.

At the driver’s door, she looked over the hood at Braden and Lincoln, both in an involved conversation. She had to force herself not to go back and insist on Braden allowing her to join him. She could help him. Even if she didn’t do a story, she could help him find his sister. It killed her that she wouldn’t be able to. Not doing anything filled her with that familiar helplessness. She hated that feeling. And she’d do anything to make it go away. Usually that meant being proactive. But she couldn’t now. Braden—and her brother—wouldn’t let her.

She hoped they found Braden’s sister. Maybe there was a way she could help from here in the States. She’d do something. She had to. She couldn’t back off and do nothing. Not when there was a woman who’d disappeared in the Caribbean. It was too much like her fiancé’s situation to ignore. She didn’t know Braden’s sister, but that didn’t matter. Trevor was gone forever because she’d done nothing to help him. If she could help Braden, in any way, she would.

Hearing a car approach, she waited for it to pass before opening her door. When it didn’t, she looked back to see that the white BMW they’d seen earlier had stopped in the middle of the road and a man was coming toward her. Large and muscular, he wore a black, long-sleeved shirt with black jeans and boots.

She began to back away but she wasn’t fast enough. He pounced on her, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward the BMW.

“Let go of me!” She struggled, her resistance hurting her arm where he held her roughly. He opened the passenger’s door of the BMW.

He was taking her.

She put her foot against the doorframe to keep him from shoving her inside, screaming.

Where was her brother?

Just then, the stranger’s grip vanished and she fell to the pavement. As she bumped her head on the rear fender of her car, she heard gunfire. Scrambling to her feet, she took cover behind her car and searched for her brother and Braden. The stranger was firing at both men. Braden had ducked behind the tree in Lincoln’s front yard. Lincoln lay on the ground, gripping his knee in agony.

The man backed toward her, gun aimed toward the front yard. Arizona moved to the other side of her car as Braden crawled to Lincoln and dragged him to the cover of the tree.

Arizona froze as the man aimed his gun at her. He grabbed her arm again, methodical and sure. Terrifying. Fleetingly, she wondered if this was how Trevor had felt when he’d been taken.

She stumbled as the man yanked her back against his chest and forced her with him around the rear of her car. He put his gun to her head just as Braden emerged from the cover of her car. Somehow he’d made it from the tree to there. She strained to see Lincoln. He must have seated himself up behind the tree.

Something whizzed by her ear, disturbing her hair. She realized it was Braden’s foot when the gun went flying. The man released her to face his opponent. Arizona stumbled with the abruptness of it and landed near the curb on her hands, yelping with the hard, rough contact.

Hurrying to her feet, she saw swinging legs and blocking hands as the two men fought between the vehicles. The gun was on the road behind her car. She started for it as Braden delivered a well-planted kick and the stranger fell closer to it than her.

The man took the gun and rolled to aim it at Braden.

Seeing Braden lunge for cover on the other side of her car, Arizona crawled along the sidewalk as the spray of loud gunfire erupted.

The next thing she heard was the squeal of tires and the revving of a fast engine. Climbing to her feet, she braced herself by the front fender of her car. Braden rose from where he’d crouched in the front as the BMW disappeared down the street.

Lincoln.

“Lincoln!” She ran for her brother, who still held his shot and bleeding knee, leaning against the tree.

Braden was already calling for help.

“I’m okay,” Lincoln said. “Who was that?” He looked up at Braden, who shook his head, still breathing heavily from exertion and adrenaline.

“He was going to take me,” Arizona uttered, unable to believe it. Why her?

“To use you for leverage,” Braden answered her silent question, his face grim but set with resolve.

“For what?”

He only stared at her, having no answer, at least none he would give. Not only was he gorgeous, he wasn’t the kind of man who could be controlled. Neither was he a man who scared easily. His sister was missing and the man who was following him had just attempted to kidnap Arizona. Whatever he wanted, he was willing to go to great lengths to get it. And he believed he could get it from Braden.

Did Braden know what that was? Did he know why his sister had disappeared?

There was no time for her to ask questions. Lincoln needed a hospital and the sound of sirens was approaching.

Chapter 2

Braden watched Arizona pace the emergency room in front of the uncomfortable seat he occupied, chewing her thumbnail. Still in those shorts and colorful top, she had the same effect on him as the moment he’d seen her when she’d opened Lincoln’s door. Grapefruit-sized breasts. Hooker shoes that he would not complain about. Ever. Her legs made him imagine R-rated things.

She stopped when she saw a tall, thin doctor approach wearing a white uniform and rectangular glasses.

“How is he?” Arizona asked anxiously. He got the feeling she was close to her brother.

“Fine. The surgery went well. Give him the night to rest. By morning he’ll be able to go home.”

“Thank God,” she breathed.

Braden stood while the doctor finished explaining Lincoln’s condition. He’d have a long recovery but he’d regain full use of his knee. Lucky.

When the doctor left, she slowly turned to him, weary with relief. But then a new light entered her eyes. Fresh panic.

“We have to get out of here.” She grabbed his arm.

What was her hurry? He stayed where he was.

She gave up with a breath of exasperation, dropping her hands. “Any minute now, the press is going to descend on this place like flies at a food festival.”

“Why?” What would draw the media here?

She cocked her head. “You try being one of Jackson Ivy’s kids and stay out of the news.”

Her father was a famous movie producer. Now he understood her urgency and felt a little of it himself. If he was going to search for his sister, he didn’t need the press announcing his arrival in Tortola. He also wished there was a way to leave Arizona behind. She might attract too much attention. But he had no choice. Someone had gone after her, and the police had nothing to go on. Even if they found something during the investigation of their attack, it would take too long.

He started for the exit. “I would think you’d welcome the press.”

Her pinched brow told him she didn’t understand his meaning. Everything she did was so animated. Was she aware of that?

“The press hounds my family.”

“The way you want to hound my sister. She’s had enough of that already.”

Shock rendered her speechless for a second, and he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. “No, I wouldn’t. The kind of news I’m after is different than that, but I understand you not wanting me to do any story. What you don’t understand is I can still help you.”

She wanted to help him? Would she do a story anyway? Was this a way of getting him to let her go with him? He was taking her, but not because he needed help.

Outside, he steered her toward his car. “Why would you want to help me?”

She shrugged “Because I can.”

He looked over her petite frame in her girly outfit. “How?”

Shooting him a lowered brow with eyes full of affront, she said, “However. I can help you.”

“It could be dangerous.” He took in her long, slender legs as she walked beside him. Damn, they were hot.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t be going, either. Maybe you should let the police handle it.”

“The police aren’t getting anywhere, and I can’t leave you here.”

“What?”

He stopped at the door of his charcoal-colored Subaru, turning to face her. “Trust me, I’d rather not, but someone tried to kidnap you. What if there’s another attempt? I can’t allow the chance.” And she had no idea how unbending he was on that subject. She could argue all she wanted, he wasn’t letting her out of his sight.

“My brother won’t like that.” But she looked pleased as could be with the prospect of going with him. To help...or get a story?

He’d have to watch her. Stealing a glance at her breasts in the beaded, sleeveless pink top, he realized he wouldn’t suffer much doing so. “He just wants to make sure you don’t get hurt.” Or worse.

“Yes, he is very overprotective.”

“Probably a good thing in this case. What would have happened if that man had succeeded in taking you?”

She didn’t reply, the flicker of horrible imaginings crossing her eyes as she scanned the parking lot.

The white BMW wasn’t around. He’d already looked.

At last she returned her gaze to him. “Why is someone following you?”

Why was she asking? “I have no idea.”

“What do they want from you?”

He shook his head. He didn’t know. The man in the BMW would have let him know once he’d had Arizona. After Braden had gone after him with the flashlight, he must have decided he’d have too difficult a time overpowering him, and then he’d seen him with Lincoln and Arizona. He would have used Arizona as leverage. It was disturbing. What did the man want? And how was it related to his sister?

Where had his life intersected with Tatum’s to draw him into the fray? Tatum had come to see him during her trouble with the government. She’d told him then that her movements were being tracked. Now she was missing, and he’d have to take Arizona with him to find her. She was eager enough for that, which caused him to wonder why.

“What happened to your fiancé?” He was sure that was what drove her. Lincoln had indicated as much. She had a compelling motive to involve herself in this, and it was more than getting a story.

Deep pain sobered her eyes before she caught the reaction and stubborn determination returned. “Didn’t you say our flight departure was in two hours?”

The fact that she refused to discuss her fiancé only convinced him further of her resolve. The story was an excuse, a small part of what moved her. The mystery of her fiancé intrigued him; her determination made him nervous.

Using his fob, he unlocked the doors of his Subaru. Why didn’t she want to tell him about Trevor? Was it still too painful or did she think it would give him an edge in fighting her on the story he wasn’t convinced she’d completely abandoned yet? It had seemed so important to her.

This woman had so many facets to her, and it disconcerted him that he was beginning to want to learn every single one. Intimately.

* * *

At last, it was time to board. Braden couldn’t stand the waiting anymore. Their flight had been delayed and being with Arizona in her blue cotton sundress had tested him long enough. He moved with her toward the jet bridge. Pulling out his wallet for his boarding pass, a picture fell out and fluttered to the commercially carpeted floor.

Arizona knelt to pick it up.

Seeing his ex-wife smiling in what used to be his favorite photo of her and now was merely something he’d neglected to remove and destroy, Braden snatched it from her.

“Your wife?” she asked.

Did they really have to go down this path? “Ex. The divorce was just final a few months ago.”

“Oh.” She looked at his still-open wallet and saw more pictures. “You have kids?”

He crumbled the picture of Serena and tossed it to a trash can near a thick concrete column. He made the hole. “A son. Aiden. He’s six.” That was a topic he could discuss all night.

Arizona glanced from the trash can to him. What he could only call a grimace crossed her expression.

“I don’t want any pictures of my ex in my wallet,” he explained.

The hint of a smile began to push up her mouth. “I’m the youngest of eight. Everyone but me got to hold babies growing up.”

So, it wasn’t throwing out the picture of Aiden’s mother that bothered her. “Never been exposed to children, huh?”

“They’re little aliens who poop and scream and don’t stop wiggling.”

“Most women love kids.” They moved up in the line toward the jet bridge. Wasn’t it a natural instinct for women to nurture? In the office he often saw groups of them hovering around newborns, cooing and coddling.

“I’m not most women.”

“You don’t want kids of your own some day?”

Arizona’s eyes popped in appall. “Oh, God. No.” She shuddered, her bare shoulders shaking a little.

Well, wasn’t this an interesting highlight. Arizona Ivy couldn’t stand kids. It reflected badly on her, and he welcomed the barrier. “What’s wrong with them?”

“They’re on another planet?”

Although her sarcasm was obvious, he took the message literally. He had a son. She didn’t like kids. It would never work out for them. Good to know right from the start.

“They’re just kids,” he said. “Innocent. A clean palatte ready to absorb information and grow up to be an adult...just like you.”

“Great. Introduce me when they’re adults.”

He chuckled. “What happens when you encounter them?” He’d love to see that some day.

“I find an excuse to leave the room.”

“Don’t you mean planet?” She could be a science project. What made some women gush over babies and others turn cold?

She sighed, no longer joking. “I guess I don’t relate to them.”

“They’re kids.” Nobody was supposed to relate. Not on the same level.

“They’re loud and obnoxious.”

“Kid. Not adult.”

“Right.”

Braden shook his head. She really didn’t get it. “You’re missing out on a big part of life.”

“Yeah? What’s that? Exhaustion that leads to unhappiness and lack of sex?”

“No. The moments you remember for a lifetime. The words they say and how they say them. The questions they ask. The first time they tell you they love you.”

Feeling her watch him, he realized he was smiling fondly, thinking of Aiden.

“I can live without all that.”

“Right, because you have a serious career to go after.” And sex.

He wished that thought hadn’t entered his head.

“Which is precisely why I prefer other women to do the childbearing.” She walked forward, hauling her carry-on.

Braden felt better and better about her going along. Whatever had transpired when she’d bumped into him at Lincoln’s house, it was brief and over now. He could concentrate on finding his sister and not worry about Arizona attracting him into bed. Best to avoid any chance of getting her pregnant and forcing her to become one of those childbearing women.

* * *

Sitting next to Braden in first class, Arizona was thankful for the spacious seating. His lean body was far enough away to prevent contact. Contact was dangerous with him. He may inflame her physically, but he’d failed the intellectual test. Flawed, to be sure. Son. Recently divorced. That was plenty to convince her he wasn’t her type. Especially the kid part. A shudder wracked her shoulders. And it wasn’t all from revulsion. She couldn’t stop thinking about the look on his face when he talked about Aiden.

Beside her, Braden noticed, his perceptive eyes cynical.

Opening her People magazine, she tried to pay attention to that. Braden’s presence was too strong.

She watched him remove his laptop and survey the cabin of the plane at the same time, as though expecting the driver of the BMW to pop out of nowhere. He was as vigilant as Lincoln. As fearless, too. The combination of nerd and superhero was a curious mix.

“What do you do, anyway?” Lincoln had never told her.

“I’m an engineer for Hamilton Corporation.” As though on cue, he pulled out a pair of reading glasses and opened his laptop. Arizona watched him for a bit, disconcerted over the unbelievable comparison to her fiancé. Tall, handsome and an engineer for a high-tech corporation.

She kept that to herself. “What kind of engineer?”

He turned from his laptop screen, green eyes behind the anti-reflective lenses of his glasses. Still handsome.

“Advanced technology for the military. Countermeasure equipment. That sort of thing.”

Vague reply. “Oh.” She nodded through her discomfort. “Design and development?”

“Most of it’s classified.”

Her fiancé had worked in research. Top secret clearance, just as she was sure Braden had. She struggled to minimize the coincidence.

Then something dawned on her. “Do you think it’s possible there’s a link between what you do and your sister’s disappearance?”

He turned with a lifted brow. Clearly, he doubted that.

“You do weapons designs for the military,” she explained further. “Your sister was a freight forwarder accused of shipping weapons to a prohibited country.”

“Where’s the link? She didn’t get the weapons from my company.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very. The arms her company exported weren’t ours.”

His defensive response spoke loudly of his conviction, but it seemed forced. He refused to consider his sister could have been involved in anything sinister. In this case, Arizona agreed. It didn’t seem likely that his job had anything to do with the accusations that had ruined his sister’s reputation. The coincidence was unnerving, though.

A baby cried from somewhere in the back of the plane. The whine of jet engines and airflow muffled voices and the movement of flight attendants.

“Were you curious about my job because you were fishing for a connection or did something else prompt you?” he asked.

Prompt her? What had prompted her? She registered his reading glasses.

“I could tell you were—” a nerd, she almost said “—a college graduate.”

He stared at her. “A college graduate?”

“Yeah. You know, the office type.” His big chest and arms challenged her claim. So did the amusement in his eyes, entirely too...she’d rather not allow the word into her head.

“You could tell that by looking at me?”

She took in his stubble and the green of his captivating eyes. “Well, there are some deterring factors, but yes. I could tell.”

“Deterring factors?”

Never one to shy away from confrontation, she let propriety drop. “You have this masculine look about you, and yet you wear Gucci loafers and smudged reading glasses. It’s like Louis Vuitton clashing with Aeropostale.”

“Stereotyping, are you?” He removed his glasses and wiped them with his soft shirt.

Another non-office thing to do. Who wiped their glasses on their shirt? She smiled with an exhaled laugh.

“While we’re on the subject, I agree with your brother. You don’t seem like the international reporter type.”

She was having too much fun to be insulted. “You think I’m much more suited for tabloids?”

“It’s just an observation. Sort of like the one you made about me.”

Smart-ass. “Hey, I’m not the one who wears smudged glasses.”

“No, but you write entertainment news and are the subject of entertainment news, like what you’re reading about in that magazine.” He gestured toward the People magazine in her lap. “An interesting dichotomy, don’t you think?”

“Quite.” She wasn’t sure she liked his observations. She knew a lot of the people she read about. It was sort of like social media to her.

“Why’d you get into it anyway?”

“Jackson Ivy’s daughter...?” Her levity fell flat. The fun was over.

This was getting too close to personal pains she’d rather not stir up. If she explained why she’d made her observation and where it had come from, she’d have to tell him about her fiancé.

“The media will follow you no matter what you do,” he said. “So why not do something you love?”

What did she love? She thought awhile and nothing came to her other than her undying desire to be recognized as herself rather than Jackson Ivy’s daughter. “My brother thinks I should start a nonprofit organization that takes crime victims skydiving or other high adventures. His version of entertainment that would suit me. Dad would back me.”

“I’d get in on that,” Braden said.

She took in his profile as he typed on his laptop. Would he? Which part? The organization or her dad backing it? “I want to make it on my own. You skydive?”

Pausing in his typing, he turned his face toward her. “I love anything outdoors.”

That was different from Trevor. He’d been chained to his desk and his idea of physical exercise was taking the stairs. “Wow.”

“That surprises you?”

“It’s just...”

He angled his head, green eyes curious and prowling. “You think engineers are boring?”

“No...” He definitely wasn’t boring her right now.

“You’ve banned all engineers, is that it?” His flirtatious grin muddled her senses further.

“No...I...” She struggled with what to say. Engineers reminded her of Trevor. It didn’t matter what type of engineer, or how different they were, for some reason just the association hit a raw nerve. Except with him. Right now.

She had to stop all this focus on her. “Why are you so curious? Do you want to date me or something?”

Now he was the one speechless.

“No? Too soon after your divorce?”

“I don’t want to date you.” He was a rigid wall again.

His divorce had affected him profoundly; a man who’d loved his wife only to discover she didn’t love him back. Or was it only that? She sensed something deeper at work.

“What happened? If you don’t mind me asking...”

He averted his gaze to the front of the plane. “I wasn’t what she expected.”

Did all men answer questions so vaguely or were there only a few? The injured ones. “Did she cheat on you?”

“No. It had more to do with my title, or lack thereof.”

What was wrong with engineer?

“Her parents are rich. She has a trust fund. She’ll never have to work a day in her life. When she met me, I think in her mind she was giving me a chance. And when she realized I’d never advance to executive management, she served me and left.”

He said it so simply. All that emotional baggage wrapped up in a few sentences. Discovering his wife’s lack of caring had to have been difficult on him. How could some women be so shallow? Did they have no consideration for the men they married? They thought they loved them at one point. Of course there were always exceptions, but didn’t the past they shared mean anything? To Arizona, that was like erasing a relationship as though it had never happened. What a waste. She planned to cherish every second she was alive. There was no such thing as mistakes. Everything happened for a reason. Good or bad. The mistakes were just things that happened to correct the course of life. The catalysts of fated change.

“She wasn’t what you expected, either,” she said quietly.

They shared a long look.

“Was Trevor what you expected?”

“I think he would have been.” She stared over the top of the seat in front of her, falling into what-ifs. What if they’d gone to Paris instead of the Caribbean? What if they’d stayed in the hotel room all day? What if...

“Did he die?”

Braden’s question brought her back to him. “Yes.” Odd, how it didn’t bother her to tell him this time. “He was kidnapped in St. Thomas. His captors demanded money. My father gave it to them, but...”

“Were his killers caught?”

She shook her head, angry all over again.

“Lincoln never told me.”

“We tried very hard to keep it out of the press.” Her entire family had. For her. She wouldn’t have survived Trevor’s death otherwise. “We succeeded somewhat.”

“Private family matter?”

His meaning drove straight through her. She’d experienced what too much press could do to a person during a time of grief. Could she inflict that on Braden?

“I said we succeeded somewhat,” she said.

But could she go against his wishes? If his sister turned up dead like her fiancé, would she be able to do it?

She wouldn’t have to.

The news would leak out. One way or another. She’d been approached by reporters once Trevor’s kidnapping and murder had gotten out. The same would happen to Braden. Wouldn’t he rather it be her than a stranger?

She’d convince him he would. And not by giving in to her attraction. Getting mixed up with a man on the rebound was a risk she wasn’t willing to take. Like his ex, her parents were rich. Like his ex, Arizona didn’t have to work for a living. And if that wasn’t enough, Braden was an engineer with a six-year-old son. No way.

* * *

Braden went into the bar for a drink. It was off the only restaurant in their hotel, a historic fort remodeled in the early sixties. There was little they could do until morning when they planned to go to the police, and it was too early to go to sleep. He wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway, wondering where Tatum was and whether she was all right. Was she frightened? Hurt?

Just the thought made him curl his fist. “I’m here, Tatum,” he murmured. “I’m coming to get you.” And whoever had taken her would pay.

He just hoped Arizona wouldn’t make that harder than it already would be. And not just while he was making bad people pay. More and more he thought he’d have to keep her out of his heart, too.

“You’re ruining my perception of you as an engineer.”

He twisted to see the object of his thoughts standing behind him, holding a bottle of beer. “Mine of you is still intact.”

She humphed at his witty response and sat on the barstool next to him, a grin tugging her kissable lips. “You drink?”

“Not every day. You?”

“Not every day.” Laughter lit her stunning blue eyes, clear and light. Mysterious. “Couldn’t sleep, huh?”

“It’s early.”

“You stay up late, too?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t engineers need their sleep?”

He leaned close. “Depends on what’s keeping them awake.”

She held her forefinger up. “Stop that.”

“Breaking your stereotype?”

“I’m afraid it’s already obliterated.” She didn’t seem happy about that. And then, she did.

If she was warming to him, he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. “How long has it been since your fiancé died?”

“Four years.”

Plenty of time for her heart to heal after someone she loved died. He surveyed her flawless skin, glowing a healthy tone, free of lines. Soft. “How old were you?”

“Twenty-one.”

Did anyone know what they wanted in a spouse at that age? He sure as hell hadn’t. “Young.”

“You say that as though it was too young.”

“I was twenty-one when I first got married. Divorced a year later.”

His divorce record left her silent for a while. “Does that make this your second divorce?”

“Marriage must not be for me.”

“I can see how two divorces would make you cynical.”

Bitter. Resentful. Giving up on love. Yeah. Her apparent understanding threw him off, though. “You’ve been divorced?”

“No. Everyone chooses the one they marry. And in some cases, we have to choose more than once.”

In other words, he chose badly. It wasn’t far off what he thought himself. “Thanks.”

“I don’t mean it as an insult. I don’t believe in mistakes, that’s all.”

Divorces weren’t the result of mistaken choices. Interesting take. Simple. And guilt free. He liked it.

“You married young and it didn’t work out. It wasn’t meant to. Your second marriage ended, but you have a son. Where’s the mistake in that?”

For someone who didn’t like kids, she sure had a soft spot for them. He fought the warmth swelling in him. “Is that how you feel about your fiancé’s death?”

She turned away, sipping her beer.

She didn’t believe in mistakes, yet she avoided men who reminded her of her fiancé as though she meant to prevent one.

“He never should have been killed,” she finally said.

Nobody should have to die like that. True. “But it must not have been meant to be.”

Her head whipped toward him.

“You marrying him, I mean.”

“I would have if he hadn’t been killed.”

He said nothing, just let her fill in her own blanks. It was her philosophy. There was no such thing as mistakes. Everything happened for a reason. Change happened for a reason.

Seeing how much she resisted what he’d forced her to think about, he decided he regretted making her feel that way.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” He flagged over the bartender and ordered two waters and charged their drinks to his room.

He needed a distraction. Anything to stop imagining Tatum being held against her will. If she were still alive. He couldn’t even bring himself to go there. She had to be alive. She just had to be.

All he had to do was get by until morning. What better way to do that than get a taste of the adventurer in Arizona?

* * *

Braden wouldn’t tell her where he was taking her, but Arizona suspected he was only doing this to pass time. They couldn’t talk to the police until morning. She needed this, too. Searching for Tatum brought back a lot of painful feelings. If they failed and Tatum wound up dead, she’d relive the agony of losing Trevor all over again. Success was a necessary ingredient each time she had an opportunity to help someone in need.

She walked with Braden toward the beach. When they reached it, she removed her sandals. A small group of people gathered near a building, lights from two posts shining on them. Down at the dock, a boat was ready to motor out to sea. Night diving.

She smiled big. “I haven’t done this in years.”

Braden went to the building where three people were being fitted with gear.

“How did you know there was a trip tonight?”

“I called when I got to the hotel. I thought it would take my mind off Tatum.”

Just as she’d thought. But instead he’d opted for a drink. “It’s more fun with a partner.”

Now he was the one who smiled. A sexy grin that gave her an unvarnished glimpse of his thirst for adventure. She loved it because she could so relate.

He spoke to the man in charge, who nodded and set them up along with the others. She and Braden needed all of the gear. Dressed in a warm-water wetsuit, she boarded the boat after Braden and put on her gear. Now she understood why he’d asked the bartender for water. They’d each only had one drink but hydration was important when scuba diving.

Sitting next to him on a stern bench seat, she watched the three other passengers, a trio of men in their late thirties talking excitedly and paying them no attention. Two crewmen manned the dive.

“When did you learn to night dive?” Braden asked.

“I started by going to my parents’ house in California. I swam in their indoor pool with the lights out. How did you learn?”

“In the ocean. Now it’s one of my favorite things to do.” He tipped his handsome face up to the moonlit sky. “It’s pretty dark now.” He looked back at her. “But if you dive at sunset you can see creatures getting ready for the night, some settling in, some preparing to feed. Sunrise is even better.”

She fell into the images he created. “Seeing everything wake up. The sunlight brightening the water.” She sighed. “Yes, it’s beautiful.”

She looked over at him and met his eyes, as lost as hers in the wonder. And then the wonder changed to something else. A connection, deeper than the physical chemistry they shared the first moment she saw him. A real connection. And then that fizzled when the reason they’d come here came back to her.

She shouldn’t be enjoying this so much. While Tatum either suffered or was already dead, they were living it up on an excursion. A glance at Braden made her think he felt the same.

But there was nothing they could do until morning. They needed to talk to the police first.

The boat slowed. One of the crewmen dropped anchor, and the other began instructing them on how to proceed with the dive. When it was their turn, Arizona dropped off before Braden. She turned on her headlamp and swam down, taking note of the anchor line to make the return easier. He caught up to her and they descended together, slowly. A crewman swam ahead of the group. Light from every diver’s lamp helped with navigation. Light from the moon illuminated the surface just enough.

The sea bottom came into view. Colorful fish scattered and regathered. The reef inhabitants swayed with the ocean current. Lobsters crawled along the bottom. Waving her hand, she saw phosphorescent plankton lighting up the darkness.

Arizona looked at Braden and wondered if he could see her smiling. His eyes creased as though he were, too.

Kicking her feet, she navigated along the reef, checking out the flourishing life. There were signs stuck into the ocean floor that said Do Not Touch!

She wished she had a camera.

Feeling Braden take hold of her ankles, she stopped kicking while he swam up her body and pointed.

Looking ahead, she saw a big, long shark swim by, barely visible in the sphere of light. Ghostlike. Exotic. Her heart beat faster with a flash of apprehension. But the shark passed the group of divers, probably having already fed at sunset.

Arizona rolled to swim on her back, facing Braden to convey her excitement. With his hands on her hips, eyes smiling, no words were necessary, especially when his gaze lowered to the way the straps of her vest plumped her breasts. She breathed deeper through her mouthpiece.

His green eyes glowed in their headlamps, excitement flaring to passion. She didn’t mistake that. He felt it, too.

Then a crewman poked him on the arm, jarring them both back to attention. He jabbed his thumb upward. Time to surface.

Braden released her, and she surfaced with him, finding the anchor line in the moonlit sea. When her head broke into the night air, Braden surfaced in front of her. He removed his mouth pieces and then moved his mask down and slid it around to the back of his neck. Why he’d done that gleamed in his eyes. He was impassioned enough to kiss her. She hoped he did. Removing her mask, she slid it to the back of her neck as he had done. Braden’s eyes smoldered hotter.

The others surfaced on the other side of the boat, talking excitedly about the shark. Their reason for coming to this island dropped away.

Braden reached up to hold on to a ladder. His intensity hadn’t abated since touching her underwater. Hers hadn’t, either.

Angling his head, he kissed her. Wet mouths melded. The way his strong arm held her, the way his other held them both above water, heated her already swirling senses. The exhilaration of the dive only added to her desire, spontaneity and a dash of danger with a man who had fallen under the same spell.

Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she gave everything she had into the kiss.

“All right, you two, it’s time to head to shore,” one of the crewmen said. A chorus of chuckles passed across the boat.

Braden lifted his head, green eyes shadowed and hungry. She shook herself back to the present and turned. He pushed her rear as she climbed into the boat, making her laugh.

Sitting on the bench seat, watching them approach the shore, her levity faded as the weight of what had just happened came down on her. He was recently divorced. He had a child. And he was an engineer, even though she couldn’t think of him that way anymore. She couldn’t remember if it had ever felt this way with a man before. This quickly. It had never felt scary, that was for sure. She’d always cut it off before it got to that point. This felt scary.

Sneaking a glimpse over at him, she saw him staring off to his right, not smiling. Tense. Regretting, like her.

“It was just the dive,” she said. It had served its purpose. It had taken their minds off Tatum and passed time.

But a little too well. They were here to find his sister, not have a steamy affair. His sister needed them. There was no time for anything else.

Chapter 3

Braden walked slightly behind Arizona, unable to stop looking at the seesawing sway of her butt as she moved. Those khaki shorts didn’t help. They conformed to her shape, sloping up over slender hips to give way to a floral cotton tank that followed her curves to her plump, round breasts. Last night had been as unexpected as it had been memorable. He still couldn’t get his mind past the enchantment.

It was just the dive.

She’d said it as an excuse. Like what she really felt was that it was a lot more. He was afraid he felt the same.

Braden reached the police station doors and opened one, standing aside as Arizona entered. Kissing her had been a big mistake.

Arizona didn’t believe in mistakes.

Not what he intended, then. Diving had served to take his mind off his worry over his sister, but now every minute couldn’t be wasted. Once they talked to the police, he’d take the investigation into his own hands. He couldn’t afford the distraction of sexual attraction to interfere.

Inside, Arizona asked to speak to someone about Tatum McCrae.

The dark-skinned woman in a black uniform appeared confused. “Who?”

Braden stepped forward. “We’re here from the United States to find a missing person. Tatum McCrae.” He pulled out a picture of her. “Her last known whereabouts were in Frenchman’s Cay.”

The woman looked at the picture and then back at Braden. “Sorry. Never seen her before.”

“May we speak with Monty Crawford?” That was the officer his parents had spoken with.

“Have a seat.” The woman went to find the man. It was a small police station.

Braden watched her cross the open room of four desks and stop before a tall, thin man with a big nose and a severely receding hairline standing just outside an office beside another, heavier man with a less dramatic hairline. The woman spoke to the big-nosed man, whose gaze shifted over her shoulder toward the front of the building. He responded with something and then turned to the heavier man, who nodded once and left to go sit at one of the desks in the open area while the woman retraced her steps back toward the front desk.

“You can go on back,” she said.

Braden led Arizona through a swinging half door and approached the officer, the sound of fingers tapping on keyboards accompanying them.

The officer wore a grim face as he waited in front of an office.

Braden stopped before him. “Officer Crawford?”

The man nodded, extending his hand. “You’re Tatum McCrae’s brother?”

“Yes.” He introduced himself and Arizona, who stood beside him. “I was told you were the one looking into my sister’s disappearance. ”

Crawford nodded a few times, still grim. “I’ve spoken with your parents. Anytime a tourist goes missing, we take it very seriously.”

“Have you received any more leads?” No matter how small.

“I’m afraid not. She was seen getting into a taxi. That’s the best we’ve got so far.”

Which wasn’t much.

“Are you sure she didn’t mention anyone she might be meeting down here?” Crawford asked.

Braden shook his head.

“Do you think she might have met someone?” Arizona asked.

“She got into the taxi willingly. That suggests she at least went somewhere on her own. What happened after that is a mystery. The driver was killed, and none of the others we spoke with could tell us anything. There wasn’t even a record of him picking her up.”

“What do you know about his murder?”

“He was shot late that night. Hours after your sister was seen getting into his cab, and nowhere near Frenchman’s Cay.”

“Any leads on his killer? Any witnesses?”

Crawford shook his head. “None that help. He stopped at a coffee shop about an hour before that, but didn’t say anything to connect his murder to your sister’s disappearance.”

This was discouraging. “How do you know he was the driver?”

“We’ve questioned all the others.”

“Are you sure you didn’t miss any?”

“As sure as I can be. We’re still looking into it for that very reason.”

He appeared to be doing everything he could.

“Are you sure she didn’t meet someone she knew and doesn’t want to be found?” Crawford asked.

“She would have called our mother,” Braden insisted. “She knows she would worry.”

The detective nodded again in that same somber way.

Braden pulled out a card and handed it to Crawford. “Will you call me if anything changes?”

Crawford took the card. “Of course.” He pulled out his wallet and removed his own card. “I can understand why you traveled all this way, but I should caution you that this may take some time.”

Braden put the detective’s card in his back pocket. “All I want is my sister back.”

“We’ll find her.”

Dead? Or alive?

* * *

Riding in the back of a taxi with Braden to Frenchman’s Cay, Arizona ignored her building attraction to him. The urgency of finding Tatum superseded everything else. Entering into a relationship with him made her shudder as much as the idea of having kids did. She would concentrate on the task at hand instead.

Located on a twelve-acre peninsula a short drive from Road Town and connected to Tortola by a bridge, Frenchman’s Cay was a sleepy island community. Restaurants and shops in Soper’s Hole were colorful and well maintained. Bougainvillea, poinsettias and hibiscus abounded. White sandy beaches beckoned. And a lucky few called the forested foothills home. On Frenchman’s Point, Braden drove to a stop at the Island Hotel.

Arizona stepped up to the white-painted porch. It wasn’t a large hotel. Twenty rooms, maybe. Inside, the lobby opened to wide expanses of light-colored tile. Custom art hung on the walls.

They approached the stone registration desk.

A young girl looked up from a book. Braden asked to speak with the general manager. The clerk went into an office behind the counter and emerged with a dark-skinned man with cropped white hair.

“What can I do for you?” he asked.

Braden showed him a picture of Tatum. “We’re looking for this woman.”

“Oh, yeah. Police came asking about her. Pretty lady. That’s why I remembered her.”

“Did she check in?”

“No.”

The clerk’s gaze shot from Braden to the manager.

Why would she get a taxi here if she hadn’t checked in? Did the clerk find that odd, too?

“Are you sure all you saw was her getting into a taxi?”

The manager nodded once. “I was inside. Standing right here.”

Arizona looked behind her. The doors and windows offered a fairly clear view of the covered passenger drop-off and valet parking area.

“Did anyone else see her?” Braden asked.

“No. Just me.”

When Arizona faced forward again, she saw the girl quickly avert her head away from the manager and then her gaze flitted off Arizona and Braden.

“Did she talk to anyone before she got into the cab?” Braden continued with his questioning, not appearing to notice the girl’s jitteriness.

“Sorry, I saw what I saw. I wish I could help more. Missing.” He shook his head regretfully. “Hope she’s all right.”

Braden took some time before giving up. “Thanks.”

“Good luck finding your sister.” The manager turned and went into the office, shutting the door behind him.

The girl behind the counter kept stealing glances at both her and Braden. Acting on her hunch, Arizona took the picture from Braden’s lowered hand and went to the counter. Showing the picture, she asked, “Do you recognize this woman?”

The clerk’s eyes darted toward the office and back, wariness holding her silent.

“Please,” Arizona coaxed. “We just need to know where she went.”

Still, the girl remained silent.

“If this woman is in trouble, you could help her.” Arizona moved the photo closer.

The girl studied it for a while and then glanced fearfully at the office door again. When she faced forward, she leaned closer and said in a low voice, “I was coming in to work when she was getting into the taxi. I heard her tell the driver to take her to Julian Blake’s house. She gave the driver the address, but everybody knows who lives there.” She gave them a conspiratorial look. “Richest man on the island.”

Everyone knew the man? He had a reputation. A rich reputation.

“Why didn’t you go to the police?” Braden asked.

“I didn’t know she was missing until right now. I took a few days off after that day. The police never questioned me.”

“Did you know your manager was questioned?”

The girl shook her head.

Arizona shared a look with Braden, finding that piece of information suspicious.

“Can you tell us where Julian Blake lives?” Braden asked.

“On the other side of the island. Big house. You can’t miss it.” She told them how to get there.

After thanking the girl, Arizona turned with Braden.

“I wouldn’t go there if I were you.”

Stopping short at the sound of the girl’s whisper, an urgent warning, she turned with Braden.

“Mr. Blake doesn’t like uninvited visitors,” the girl continued.

“Why doesn’t he like visitors?” Braden asked.

“Uninvited visitors. Guess he prefers his privacy.” She glanced at the office door again.

Why did he need privacy? So he could hide what he was doing? Arizona rubbed her arms, sensing danger rising. How far would Julian go to preserve his privacy? The last place Tatum was known to be is his house. Was he hiding something sinister?

“What does he do if someone comes to see him anyway?” Arizona asked.

“Escorts them off his property. That’s what I hear anyway. Rich people live in their own world.”

The way the girl said escorts gave Arizona an image of being forced away at gunpoint. “Thank you. You’ve been a tremendous help.”

The girl glanced at the office door again. Why was she so nervous? Didn’t she want her manager to know what she’d heard on her way into work? And if not, why? Were they both afraid of Julian Blake?

Arizona walked with Braden out of the hotel. “This is really getting weird.”

“We have to go to Julian’s house.”

“Should we talk to the manager again?”

“Not yet. He probably won’t tell us any more than he has, and I don’t want to cause trouble for that clerk.”

She agreed. Not yet.

Wondering about the escort they’d receive, she didn’t let it sway her. “What are we waiting for, then?” They’d never get anywhere doing nothing.

Arizona hurried with Braden to a waiting taxi. The driver gave them a funny look when Braden told them to take them to Julian Blake. The man knew how to get there. Another oddity. Or not. This was a small island. Everyone knew everyone.

Pulling out Crawford’s card, Braden pressed in the number. Shortly thereafter he explained what the clerk had told them, particularly about the hotel manager.

“He said he’d check into it,” he told Arizona.

The taxi driver turned onto a narrow dirt road. A sign read Keep Out. Another read Private Property. Arizona shared a long look with Braden. Dare they meet Julian Blake on their own?

“We’re just going to talk to him,” Braden said. “What could possibly go wrong?”

* * *

The taxi bumped over the uneven road. If this was a driveway, it was long. At last, they passed an open, elaborate iron gate. If Julian didn’t welcome visitors, would he leave the gate open? Seeing cameras moving on each side of the gate, she understood why it didn’t necessarily have to be closed all the time. The security was tight here.

The thick forest of trees opened in a clearing and a stone villa came into view. It was breathtaking. A main section with large windows jutted forward in front. Windows lined two levels on the back portion. Above the entry, a balcony had tables and chairs. The drapes were closed in whatever room it was.

The taxi stopped in a circular driveway, just in front of wide stone stairs leading to a courtyard entrance.

“Wait for us,” Braden said.

One of the double front doors opened and three men emerged. The man in front exuded an aura of power. Average in height, thick brown hair, eyes covered by sunglasses, he wore white pants and a white vest over a long-sleeved pink dress shirt. Showy.

He stepped down the stairs, the two other men following.

Arizona stopped on the flagstone driveway, Braden beside her.

“Mr. Blake?” Braden began.

“What business do you have coming to my home?” he asked in an East Coast accent. He wasn’t from here. He was American and must have moved here at some point.

“We apologize for arriving unannounced,” Braden said. “But we have a rather urgent matter we’d like to discuss with you.” When Julian didn’t respond, he explained who they were and why they were here.

“Tatum McCrae, you say?” the man repeated, making a show of ignorance. He shook his head. “I haven’t heard of her.”

He was lying. He had to be.

“We know she came to see you before she disappeared. How do you know her?” Braden demanded. “Where is she now?”

“I don’t know your sister. I don’t know anyone named Tatum McCrae. Why have you come here?”

Braden stepped forward with his picture. The two men behind Julian moved in front of him. Braden stopped, extending the picture.

The two men didn’t move to take it. And Julian put his hands on each of his henchmen’s shoulders, who stepped aside to make room for him. Julian stepped, closer to Braden and Arizona. Removing his sunglasses and holding them in his hand, his dark, fathomless gaze drifted down and up Arizona, and then shifted to meet Braden’s indomitable eyes.

But Julian wasn’t affected. “You came here for nothing.”

Braden continued to stare at the man.

“And unless I tell you it’s all right to come to my home, I suggest you stay away. Next time I won’t wait to ask questions.”

“Where is my sister?” Braden asked again.

“This is the last warning you’ll get. Leave now. Never come back.”

Another stare down commenced, Julian mocking, Braden calculating.

“Let’s go.” Arizona had a bad feeling about this.

After a few tugs on his arm, Braden went with her back to the cab, looking back at the villa until it vanished from sight. Dust billowed up from the dirt road. Flowering evergreen trees and a variety of others, perhaps white cedar and mango, gave the illusion of paradise.

When they reached the gate, two Jeeps waited just inside, angled toward the road. Four men stood outside of the vehicles, all of them armed. They each held some sort of automatic weapon, the barrels long and pointed to the ground at the moment. Around their waists, pistols hung.

Fear shot into Arizona as the driver began to slow.

“Don’t stop,” Braden said.

Arizona could hear the driver breathing and his eyes were round, the green of them stark against his dark skin and the whites of his eyes.

“They must want us to drive through the gate,” she said, trying to calm him.

He drove past. The men outside the Jeeps moved as they did, facing their departure. But then they all climbed inside the Jeeps.

The taxicab driver’s eyes remained wide as he looked into the rearview mirror.

“Drive faster,” Braden said from the backseat.

The driver complied, as eager as them to get away. The dust cloud behind them rose higher.

The cab fishtailed around a turn and raced up a hill. On the other side was Soper’s Hole. Cresting the hill, it came into view.

The Jeeps stopped at the top of the hill. Arizona waited for gunfire. None came. She waited for them to chase them again. They didn’t.

“They’re not following.” Why weren’t they?

The driver slowed as they reached town. Then he pulled into a gas station and parked.

“Get out,” he said.

Braden tried to pay him but he waved his hand. “Get out. You walk from here.”

She and Braden did as the driver asked. When the taxi drove away, she said, “Gave him a pretty good scare.”

“Julian Blake gave him the scare.” He turned to her, each thinking the same thing. Why? Why was Julian Blake someone to fear on this island?

He started walking toward the center of Soper’s Hole. She jogged to catch up to him and then walked beside him on the sidewalk. Five minutes later they reached the busy town center. It was clean and beautiful. The street wasn’t in very good condition, but cars parked along the side and the sidewalk was dotted with black streetlamps. Big flowerpots were placed between, and multicolored, wooden benches offered seating along storefronts. People entered into and emerged from shops, walked along the street, talking, smiling, peering into store windows.

Then those that weren’t tourists began to take notice of them. At first Arizona thought she was mistaken. Why would they single them out? A man leaning against the enclave of the entrance to a gift shop puffed a cigarette as they passed, his dark eyes following them eerily. Two women sitting at one of two tables on the patio of a café spoke quietly together between glances at them.

A dark blue Cadillac slowed on the street, rolling beside them on the other side of parked cars. The window moved down. Crawford was driving. Why was he here?

“Everything all right?” he asked.

When she and Braden stopped walking, he stopped the car.

“We were just chased off Blake’s property,” Braden said.

Crawford looked from him to Arizona as though digesting that announcement. “Why don’t you both get in the car?”

Braden touched his hand to Arizona’s back and opened the back door for her. She climbed in and he got into the front passenger’s seat.

Crawford began to drive. “I can appreciate your concern for your sister, Mr. McCrae, but I’m going to have to ask that you leave the investigation to me.”

“His goons had guns,” Braden retorted.

“The more stormy weather you stir up, the harder it will be for me to do my job.”

Braden didn’t argue.

“I understand you feel helpless and you need to do something. Time is of the essence. But I assure you, I’m doing everything I can to find Tatum. Tortola is a quiet community. A safe community. I intend to do my part to keep it that way.”

“Are you going to talk to the hotel manager?” Braden asked.

“I just left there. And he explained what I suspected. Most around here like to leave Julian Blake alone. They prefer not to have any contact with the man.”

“Why is that?” Arizona asked. “Don’t you think that’s strange?”

“No one will ever say Julian is a friendly fellow. But that doesn’t make him a criminal. He prefers seclusion. Many come to islands like this for that reason.”

“But he has armed guards,” Arizona argued.

“I have seen no evidence of that. He is good at concealing his activities.”

Hearing the detective’s frustration, Arizona sighed. “You have to agree that it’s strange.”

“Oh, I do agree. There’s just not much I can do about it right now.” Crawford checked the rearview mirror. “Where am I taking you two?”

Braden told him the name of their hotel just as Arizona’s cell phone rang. She dug into her purse and retrieved it. Lincoln.

“Lincoln?”

“Hey, Arizona. How are you?”

“Fine, you?”

“Doped up on pain medication, enduring Mom’s care at home and working. And I just found something big.”

“What? You’re supposed to be resting.”

“I rest. When I’m awake, I work. You want to hear this or not?”

“What have you got?” Her words made Braden twist in his seat to see her and Crawford glance in his rearview mirror.

“A news report of a missing woman in Tortola. Three months ago. The article said she checked in at the Frenchman’s Point Hotel and was never seen again. She has a sister in Oregon. I gave her a call and she had something very interesting to say.”

“What was that?”

“The missing woman was having an affair with a man who lives in Tortola. His name is Julian Blake.”

Sucking in her breath, she met Braden’s eyes, which hardened at her reaction. “We were just chased away by the very same man. Tatum went to see him before she disappeared.”

Lincoln cursed.

Had Braden’s sister had an affair with him? Both women had disappeared.

Crawford kept looking in his mirror.

“Can we talk to her?” Arizona asked her brother.

“She’ll come to you. She’s on her way to Tortola now. I gave her your hotel information.”

The woman had been looking for her sister just as Braden now was.

“Thanks, Lincoln.”

“Glad to help any way I can. Vengeance for my knee.”

She ended the call and stared at Braden.

“What?”

She glanced at Crawford. “There was another woman who disappeared three months ago. She was having an affair with Julian.” She allowed Braden some time to process that. “She has a sister in Oregon.”

“I’m familiar with that case,” Crawford said. “If Julian is behind both disappearances, he’s covering his tracks well. He checked out when I questioned him.”

“Tatum would have told me if she was seeing someone,” Braden said.

“Would she have? Julian doesn’t seem like a typical boyfriend.” Far from it. And Arizona wondered why Crawford hadn’t told them about the other missing woman.

Chapter 4

Braden sat with Arizona inside the busy hotel restaurant. The first missing woman’s sister had called Arizona’s cell number when she’d landed and asked to meet them here. Braden didn’t want to put the woman in danger, but he was curious to see if one of the hotel staff would say or do something. The manager, perhaps.

A short, plump woman in her early thirties appeared, her peppered dark hair cut above her ears.

“That looks like the woman in the picture Lincoln sent.”

“That’s her.” Braden lifted his hand.

Charlene Andrews nervously approached. “Mr. McCrae?”

Braden stood and shook her hand. “Thank you for coming all this way.”

“I’ve been looking for Courtney for weeks. I’m glad to help in any way.”

“This is Arizona Ivy.”

“Yes. Ivy.” The woman took her hand in polite greeting and then sat. She made no show over her obvious recognition of the name.

Putting her purse on the floor, she changed her mind and hung it over the back of the chair. She removed the light sweater she wore, letting it drape over the handbag. Sliding the roll of silverware over, she curled her hand around the glass of water on the table. Nervous.

Braden reached over and put his hand over her wrist. “We’re very sorry about your sister.”

“I can’t believe she’s still missing.” Tears glistened in her eyes.

“Mine is missing, too,” Braden said. “We’ll find them both.”

“Oh.” The woman covered her mouth with her hand, stopping herself from crying. When she regained her composure she straightened with a few blinks of her eyes. “The kind gentleman who called me explained about Tatum. I’m sorry, as well, Mr. McCrae.”

“Can you tell us what happened to your sister?” Arizona asked.

“She told me that she went on a trip to Tortola to see a man. She met him online. Which I always thought was strange. Courtney isn’t the type to do that sort of thing. But she’d been complaining that she wasn’t going on many dates and she was ready for a relationship. The fact that she found someone long distance bothered me. But she claimed to like this man very much.”

“That’s when she went missing,” Arizona helped her.

“Yes,” Charlene replied with a quiver in her voice.

“Can you tell us anything about him?” Braden asked.

“His name was Julian Blake. My sister said he was a retired high-risk insurance underwriter. She never said anything bad about him. He must have fooled her well.”

“Can we have copies of their email correspondence?” Arizona asked.

“Her computer was stolen shortly after she disappeared. The police haven’t been able to find anything. My sweet sister.” She wiped her eyes. “Our mother died a few years ago and she’s all I have left.”

“Was anything found in her house? Any evidence at all?”

Charlene shook her head. “She was living with me. Nothing else was out of place. Only her computer was taken from the guest room.” She looked from Arizona to him. “She just lost her job and was looking forward to going to the Caribbean. She even thought she might move there. To be with him.” Her face soured with the injustice. “That evil man. I don’t know what he did to my sister. That’s the worst part. Not knowing. Is she alive? Is she dead? It’s torture not knowing. I want to believe she is alive, but too much time has passed. She’d have called by now. If she could call, she would.” Then she looked imploringly at Braden. “Have you learned anything? Did Julian kidnap your sister?”

“She was seen getting into a taxi that took her to his house. It appears she was willing.”

“At first. That monster is up to something. He lured my sister, and now he’s lured yours.” She breathed through her anxiety. “Lord only knows what he’s done with them.”

Braden saw Arizona slump with empathy. “We’ll do everything we can to expose him.”

She definitely was a crusader for victims. She may be offering a false promise. Julian was evil, all right. But he was also dangerous.

* * *

Arizona watched Charlene leave the restaurant. She wasn’t staying here. She had a room in Road Town and was flying out in the morning. She passed the hotel manager. Only then did Arizona notice him. He’d been watching them.

She glanced at Braden and saw he’d noticed, too.

He stood and she stood with him, trailing him out of the restaurant. The manager saw them, his face going deliberately blank, faked nonchalance and then he strode toward the reception desk. The clerk wasn’t there.

“Do you think he’s working for Julian?” she asked Braden when they emerged outside.

Charlene had gotten into an unmarked cab.

“I don’t know. Let’s not take any chances.” He flagged a taxi, this one marked.

“Follow that car,” he told the driver when they climbed into the backseat.

“This isn’t the way to her hotel,” Arizona said as they passed the turn.

In the backseat of the car ahead, Charlene began talking to the driver. She then tried the door handle, or searched for one, her hands going over the doorframe and lower. She twisted in the backseat, looking through the rearview mirror with stark eyes and an open mouth to accommodate for what must be frightened breaths.

“What’s he doing?” Arizona whispered, eyeing their own driver. He didn’t appear to notice anything unusual, or if he had, he kept it to himself.

The car ahead approached Julian’s driveway and turned.

Their driver didn’t slow.

“Turn!” Arizona shouted.

The driver glanced back at her. “This is Julian Blake’s home. We do not go there.”

“Turn, damn it!” Braden shouted.

Flustered, the man turned onto Julian’s driveway. “We are not to go to this home. I take you to gate and that is all.”

“Fine.” Why was everyone so afraid of Julian?

Maybe that was a stupid question. Tatum had disappeared and the last time anyone saw her, she was on her way to see him.

“Look.”

She followed Braden’s point. At Julian’s gate, several men stood. One of them was Julian Blake. The unmarked taxi had stopped just before the gate.

Julian noticed the second car approach and didn’t seem surprised. In fact, he seemed to have expected this, for Arizona and Braden to follow.

The driver stopped the taxi behind the unmarked one containing Charlene.

None of the men at the gate were armed, or so it appeared. They wore stylish dark suits, contrasting with Julian’s pristine white. The man had a thing for white. Did he enjoy how it made him seem pure? A cloak to his inner darkness.

One of the men moved forward to open the rear door of the other car and reached inside. He dragged a struggling Charlene from the backseat.

Arizona climbed out of the cab with Braden. And stood beside him, watching Charlene being manhandled while Julian moved closer.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Charlene shrieked at Julian. “What have you done with my sister?”

“Let her go,” Braden said.

With a wicked grin, Julian took hold of Charlene and shoved. Braden caught her.

“You’re an animal!” Charlene choked out as she regained her balance and stood beside Braden.

Julian kept his gaze on Braden. “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear before. I don’t like trespassers.”

“You forced me here!” Charlene retorted.

“According to whom?” He glanced behind him.

The driver of the unmarked car had gotten out and was now leaning against the closed driver’s door, taking cash from one of Julian’s henchmen.

Julian leaned to look through the windshield of the taxi she and Braden had ridden in. That driver put up his hands and said through his open window.

“I want no trouble.”

In other words, he’d lie if he had to. He’d lie to protect himself and his family. Everyone feared Julian that much. It was appalling.

“We just want our sisters,” Charlene said. She’d likely done this before, pleaded with Julian for her sister.

“I don’t have your sister. How many times do I have to say it?”

“Liar!” Charlene yelled. “What have you done with her?”

Julian moved his look back to Braden. “Leave this island, or next time I won’t be this generous. Next time—” he stepped closer “—I won’t let her go.”

While Arizona’s stomach churned in disgust, Charlene slapped him. Two of the suited men reached into the folds of their jackets and stepped forward.

Julian raised his hand and they stopped, just like in one of her father’s movies. Except this was real.

Seeing Braden’s fists clenched at his sides, Arizona decided it was time to go. She slid her arm on the inside of his.

“Let’s go.”

“The voice of reason,” Julian taunted.

“We’ll be back,” Braden said, unafraid. “If you have Tatum and Courtney, I’ll find out.”

“You won’t find her here. If you were smart, you’d look closer to home.”

What did he mean by that? The man in the white BMW flashed in Arizona’s mind. Did Julian know him? Was Tatum being held somewhere in the States? Were they wasting their time looking here? That couldn’t be. Why drag Tatum all the way back to the States?

Julian walked to the driver’s window of their taxi and leaned down. “Take them to the airport. If they don’t leave, let me know.”

“Yes, sir,” the driver answered as though he worked for the man.

“We’ll be sure and tell the police all about this,” Arizona said. Did he think he could get away with anything?

“Go right ahead,” he said with confidence. “I will simply tell them you were trespassing.” He spread his arms to indicate the people around him. “I have witnesses.”

This was ridiculous. The taxi driver would lie for him? Lie to police?

“If you value those close to you, you will not return.” To the taxi driver, he repeated, “Make sure they leave the island. If I don’t hear from you, I will send someone to your home.”

“I’ll take them to the airport. You have my word.”

“Very good.” Julian clapped his hands together, moving back to where he had stood in front of them. “Then we have no issue. We all can go on with our lives and you will leave me to my privacy.”

If it weren’t for Charlene and the taxi driver, Arizona would refuse to go. She and Braden could stay and continue their search, but innocent lives were at stake.

She looked beyond the gate, wishing they could get inside the villa. There had to be a way.

“Let’s go,” she said to Braden and Charlene.

She urged Braden back to the taxi. They had Charlene, which was enough for now.

“Have a safe trip home,” Julian called, accentuating the word safe.

If they stayed, they’d no longer be safe.

Inside the taxi, Charlene sat in the back with Braden, who stewed with anger. He’d kept quiet, but she could feel him brimming on the edge of control.

What Arizona didn’t understand about all of this was that if Julian wanted something from Braden, why hadn’t he asked for it when he’d had Charlene? Wouldn’t he have used Arizona for the same purpose? Unless Julian wasn’t linked to the arms deal.

Then why had Tatum gone to see him?

Braden’s cell phone rang and he answered, displeasure changing his frown.

“Serena.”

Who was Serena? His ex, judging from that look.

“I told you I was going to be out of town for a while.” He sighed after a few beats. Arizona could hear the elevated tone of a woman’s voice coming from his phone.

“Can’t your parents watch him?”

This was about his son. More high-pitched arguing resounded from the phone.

“All right. All right,” he cut the voice off. “We’ll be there tomorrow night.” And then he said as though in answer to her question, “Me and...a friend. But it can only be for one night, Serena. I can’t risk any more than that.”

Risk? He was afraid of exposing his son to this. Arizona couldn’t blame him. If whoever had followed him would try to take Arizona, they’d certainly try to do the same if they knew he had a son.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.