“What about the other side of her family? Her father’s parents?”
“He was an only child and his parents were gone. Also, after what happened, there was no way Judith would have let Lila stay anywhere but by her side. And effectively, they made her disappear from the databases. Everyone assumed that she had died with her parents and brother. The CIA was very careful about that.”
“I need to wake her up again. You should get some sleep. We’ll probably head back tomorrow.”
“My ticket isn’t until next week.”
“Dillon got a private jet from a friend. We didn’t want to use the Dillon jet because that might send a signal out.”
“Okay. Make sure you sleep a little too.”
“I will.”
He watched his father walk down the hall to the guest room. It was renovated, although the bathroom left a little to be desired.
Ian stepped into his bedroom and instantly noticed the bed was empty. Panic hit him hard, then he noticed the bathroom door was shut. The toilet flushed and then the sink water came on. He drew in a deep breath, trying to calm his heart rate. She opened the door and came to an abrupt stop.
“What’s wrong?”
“I walked in and you weren’t here.”
“I told you I wouldn’t try to escape again.”
“You aren’t being kept a hostage.”
“Sure feels like it.” She climbed into bed. “I heard you and your father talking. Was it about me?”
He pulled the sheet up further because, Jesus, the woman had on a shirt that clung to her body. She had a fucking concussion, and he was thinking about how much he would like to slide his hand up under her shirt…then follow it with his mouth.
Even as his dick pressed against his zipper, he ordered his body to stop responding to her.
“What’s that look for? Did he say bad things about me?”
The worry in her voice caught his attention and tugged on his heart. That was a funny thought because he was often accused of not having one.
“No. He said nice things about you. Mainly about your mother.”
Her mouth curved. “She was brilliant.”
“So you didn’t fall far from the tree?”
She shrugged but said nothing else. He brushed her hair away from her face.
“We’ll be going to Oahu tomorrow.”
She shot up in bed. “What?”
“We need to get off this island.”
“They will be watching the airport and since we have no idea who they are, it makes it impossible to look for them.”
“Delilah—”
“Don’t call me that. I hate that name.”
“Your grandmother called you by it. Did she pick it?”
She shook her head. “No. My father did. She was just formal. No nicknames for her.”
