Why wasn’t she pushing him away?
Because all pain was gone.
Because every gentle, light touch was hypnotically pleasurable.
Because she felt as languid and sexual as an animal in heat.
“Get away from me, Caleb.”
“I don’t think you mean that.” He lifted his head and sighed. “But you might convince yourself you did later.” He straightened. “So I’ll bow to conventional morality and my own belief that it will probably be better if I wait.” He went back to his chair across the room. “It was good touching you at least. I think about it all the time, you know.”
“No, I didn’t know.”
“I believe you did. You choose to ignore it. I don’t mind.” He dropped down in the chair. “Go to sleep. I’ll be here to make sure the pain doesn’t come back.”
She watched him settle in the chair, and he was once more blending into a barely defined outline in the half darkness.
A shadow figure.
She was feeling no pain at all.
But her lips were burning, tingling.
Her breath was short, her pulse rapid.
Heat was pounding through her body.
Her breasts were taut and ready.
He was no shadow.
CHAPTER
7
BUMPING.
Thunder.
The sound of the rain on the metal roof.
Eve sluggishly opened her lids. Heavy. So heavy.
Her entire body felt terribly heavy beneath the coarse red blanket.
She tried to push the blanket aside.
She couldn’t move, she realized with panic.
She tried again, but her body wouldn’t obey the command.
Bumping again …
Why?
Truck. She was on the floor of a truck, wedged between the backseat and the front.
And there was someone in an orange cap and camouflage rain gear driving the truck.
Familiar …
She should remember who he was, but she couldn’t make any connection with her memory any more than she could with her reflexes.
He was speaking, she realized vaguely. But not to her; she could see the gleam of a computer screen through the space between the front seats. The driver was talking to a freckled, red-haired man who was staring defiantly out of that screen.
Skype? She used it sometimes when Joe was out of town. What did it matter what computer program …
Tense—the red-haired man staring out of the screen was tense, maybe even afraid. It was obvious in every line of his expression.
“You’ve failed me, Blick,” the man driving the truck said regretfully. “You’ve failed both of us. You said that I could trust you, that you’d do what I told you. Kevin would be so disappointed in you.”
“No, he wouldn’t, he’d understand.” Blick moistened his lips. “I had to do it. You told me I had to keep her on the island. You said it was important that she didn’t get in your way.”
“I didn’t tell you to shoot her.”
“She was going to leave the island. She was almost at the plane. I didn’t know what else to do, Doane.”
“So you decided to kill her. Stupid, Blick.”
“She’s still on the island, isn’t she? You’ve got your delay. I bought you time, and you’re yelling at me. Kevin would never do that.”
“But how much time and at what price?”
“She’s not dead yet. I didn’t have a clear shot. She may not die. It’s up to you from now on.”
“It’s always been up to me,” Doane said wearily. “And I’ll handle it. But I may still need your help. Are you still on Summer Island?”
“No, I used my speedboat to meet with a fisherman from Grand Cayman who I paid to take me somewhere I can get a plane to Miami.” He paused. “I thought I’d go into hiding for a while. Joe Quinn is a detective, and he’s going to be mad as hell at me for shooting his daughter.”
“No, I need you. Did you ever know Kevin to hide when the heat was on? We’ve got to be as brave as he would be, Blick. I want you to go to that lake cottage in Atlanta and keep an eye on Duncan’s family. I’ll expect you to be there within a day.”
“I’ll try to be there by that time.”
“Don’t try, you’ve done very well except for this error. Do it.”
Silence. “Do you have Eve Duncan?”
“Of course. She’s with me now.”
“And you wouldn’t have her except for me.” His tone was once again defiant. “I did what Kevin would have wanted me to do. He always said that you had to adjust actions to changing circumstances. That’s what I did.”
“Kevin was Kevin. You are you. You should have done what I told you. It wasn’t necessary to shoot her.” He broke the connection.
Summer Island. They had been talking about Jane, Eve thought hazily. Shooting. Danger. Death. Blick had said that Jane was still alive. She had to know if—