He had told her his ransom theory mostly to keep her spirits up, told her his father was worth millions of dollars and that he would surely pay for the safe return of his only son and the girl who was with him.
Though Michael had never been able to live up to his father’s expectations and they rarely spoke these days, it didn’t change the fact they were blood. His father would pay the ransom demand and Pia would be part of the bargain—Michael wasn’t leaving without her.
“They’ve probably sent word by now,” he said. “They’ll want to be paid in cash. It might take my father a while to get the money together and get it down here.”
And his sister would be looking for them; he was sure of that. He hadn’t called her in days, as she had made him promise to do. Harper would know something was wrong, and she would be doing her best to find him.
Next to him, Pia shivered. Darkness surrounded them. This high in the mountains, the temperature had dropped from the seventies in the afternoon into the high fifties after dark. Heavy rainfall left the leaves and grass soaked, the air chilly and damp. Though the fatigues they wore offered some protection against the elements, neither of them were dressed for the colder weather.
He couldn’t resist a glance at her pretty face, or noticing the soft swells beneath her drab cotton shirt. After the unplanned but glorious night he had spent with her on the boat, he remembered the exact shape of her lush breasts, the way her nipples hardened in his hands. He remembered her desire for him, the way she cried out his name when she lost control.
As battered and bruised as he was, as worried as he was, a trickle of heat slid through him.
He thought of how bravely Pia had fought their abductors, scratching and clawing, twisting and kicking, a naked hellion who refused to give up.
That the men hadn’t tried to rape her was a clue of some sort, because clearly they wanted her. If he was right and he was being ransomed, maybe the soldiers were keeping them alive and unharmed so that they could get paid.
Michael looked into her big brown eyes. “I know I’ve said this before, but I’m really sorry I got you into this. If I could go back in time, I would never have bought you that drink in Aruba.”
Pia leaned up and pressed a kiss on his beard-stubbled jaw. “My grandmother used to say that fate was a hunter. She believed everything happened for a reason, that ultimately it was God’s will. If you hadn’t bought me that drink, I never would have met you and I am very glad that I did.”
He swallowed. “Pia...”
“If we are meant to survive, we will. What happened is not your fault.”
Maybe not, but Michael wasn’t so sure. How had the men found them in Curaçao? If it was ransom money they were after, how had they known who he was? Who his father was?
Michael looked into Pia’s beautiful face, his gaze running over the bruise on her cheek and her puffy bottom lip, and another shot of guilt slid through him.
He would get her out of this, he vowed. No matter what it took, he would find a way to protect her and get her safely home.
It was one in the morning Dallas time when Harper phoned her father. His sleep-groggy voice boomed over the line in an unfriendly “Hello.”
“Dad, it’s me.”
“Harper. It’s the middle of the night. What’s going on?”
Standing in the salon aboardIsland Runnerwith the phone pressed to her ear, Harper felt a rush of fear. Clearly her father hadn’t received a ransom call.
“I’m in the Caribbean, Dad. Michael’s missing. We think he’s been kidnapped.” She could hear him moving around, his heavy frame shifting as he sat up in bed.
“Kidnapped? What are you talking about?”
“He’s been missing for more than a week, Dad. We tracked him to Aruba, then on to Curaçao. We think men came aboard his yacht in the middle of the night and took control of the boat. We think they forced him to sail out of the harbor, but we don’t know where.”
Her father grunted. “I told him it was a stupid thing to do, going down there by himself. The world’s a dangerous place. He should have known better.”
“We thought by now you would have received a call demanding money for his release.”
“No one’s called.” He moved the phone to his other ear. “You saidwe. Who’s with you?”
She hated to tell him. She knew about the feud between her father and Bass Garrett when he’d been alive, though she had no idea the cause. Knox Winston didn’t like Chase and his brothers any better than he had their father.
“Chase Garrett. He’s a private detective now. I hired him to help me look for Michael.”
“I know what he does for a living. Garrett’s with you? Are you telling me you’re down there alone with him?”
“It’s business, Dad. We’re trying to find Michael. Don’t you care about what might have happened to him?”
