“Mathilda, I can’t! I’m under an NDA. And now Lincoln’s been kidnapped, and I have to either contact his security or go after him myself. We’re wasting precious time here.”
“Or maybe you’re trying to conveniently flee the scene. Maybe you plan to take over Lincoln’s identity permanently. You do look a bit alike.”
“That’s ridiculous. If I was going to do that, why would I tell you all I was Rory?”
She thought that over, her logical scientist brain kicking in. “Good point,” she said begrudgingly.
“Believe me, I would never want to be Lincoln.” His heartfelt tone caught her attention, and held it. “I wouldn’t know the first thing about any of his businesses. None of it interests me. I’m perfectly happy being pilot Rory who likes to fly and feels lucky that he can support his family that way.”
“His family.” Her mouth dropped open in shock. “Are you married? Is that another lie?”
“No! Good God, of course not. I mean my brother Ethan, mostly. And my grandmother. It’s all very expensive and I’m lucky to have the job with Lincoln. He pays extremely well.” The suspicious way she kept looking at him was getting under his skin. “Let me ask you something, Mathilda.”
“Okay.”
“Did anyone here know you weren’t just Mathilda Wheeler, graduate student and crow aficionado before that lawyer showed up?”
“No,” she snapped. “You know they didn’t. But we’re talking about you, not me. Besides, that’s different. All that stuff was completely irrelevant. I’m here as a researcher, not as a potential, hypothetical…marchioness.” Her eyelashes fluttered; he’d made his point.
He took a step toward her and this time she didn’t shy away. “You’re right, it is different. We had different reasons. But neither of us meant any harm. I swear to you, all I wanted was to protect Lincoln. I was terrified when I saw him unconscious after the crash. I thought I’d killed my boss. A fucking billionaire. When I realized he was alive, my only goal was to keep him safe. Do you believe me? Or can you at least try? I promise you I’ll be as truthful as I can from now on.”
He fixed his gaze on her, hoping his sincerity shone through. It was all true, after all. No lies told. He hoped to avoid telling any lies for the foreseeable future, in fact. But that NDA did tie his hands to some extent.
“Okay,” she said slowly. She shook her bed-messy hair away from her face. It caught the light from the tent window, and made her look like an angel. “I’ll believe you if you tell me more about that ‘maybe.’’’
“Excuse me?”
“You said you ‘maybe’ have an idea of what was going on. I want to know what you meant. It’s just a small gesture of your commitment to being truthful from now on.”
Damn it. He should have known he’d end up here—with a choice. Tell Mathilda what he’d found in the med kit, or respect his NDA. He couldn’t even remember exactly what the damn contract said. Wasn’t it more about speaking to the press and revealing things publicly? You couldn’t get more non-public than stranded in a tent in the middle of the jungle.
He drew in a deep breath, and made his choice.
20
“What is it?” Mathilda stared at the photo on Lincoln’s—no, Rory’s phone. It showed a mesmerizing, glowing object that appeared to be some kind of raw crystal.
“I have no idea,” said Rory. It was going to take some getting used to, the new name, but overall she liked it better than Lincoln. The name Rory suited the man she’d gotten to know. “But this was the only thing Lincoln was worried about when we were about to crash. He wanted me to keep it safe. I failed.”
She flipped to the video and watched it over and over. She couldn’t take her eyes off the crystal. Its shape was a jagged oval, like an egg with sharp edges.
“What is it like to the touch?”
“It has a faint energy to it, like a vibration. It’s a strange sensation. You can almost hear it in the video.”
He was right. As she watched the video play again, she heard a barely audible hum.
Outside, the others were debating what to do about the raid they’d just survived. Their voices carried into the tent. She kept hearing phrases like, “he’s got to go,” and “let’s call the police.”
“Did Lincoln ever mention anything about this?” she asked Rory.
He shook his head. “I’m just the pilot. He doesn’t tell me anything. I’m in the cockpit while he conducts his business. But…” He paused for some kind of inner debate with himself. “When he was coming out of his coma, he mentioned industrial espionage. I think he was worried about a spy on his staff. No one else was on the SyberJet with us. No copilot, no attendant, no entourage. That never happens. Also, I warned him about the weather and he insisted on going anyway.”
Mathilda eyed him under her eyelashes. Rory. Rory Baker. Pilot. Now that she knew the truth about him, everything made more sense, even her wild attraction to him.
“He needed you to get him to Maui for some reason. And he didn’t mind putting your life at risk to make it happen.” That was why she didn’t like people like Lincoln who were willing to sacrifice others to get what they wanted.
Rory shrugged. “Flying planes always carries a risk. That said, it was my first crash. Here’s hoping it’s the only one.”
