Authors: Joni Hahn
“Good. I expect a report this time tomorrow.”
No pressure
.
“What about our friend?”
The red-headed hottie
. Jaydan cursed in his head.
“Your facial recognition scan pulled up Sgt. Dylan McCall, a Marine, considered a deserter from Afghanistan. Until this scan, he hadn’t been seen since his disappearance a few months ago.”
“He’s heard of us. Any ties to Matheson?”
“Not that I can find,” Mitchell said. “Think he’s working with him?”
Jaydan shrugged. The thought had crossed his mind that the entire note and luau situation had been a setup. He was convinced McCall sent the note.
But, to set him up? His gut said otherwise.
“I don’t think so, Mitchell. He helped me tonight until Matheson showed up. Then, he disappeared.”
“And Hope?”
Beautiful, sexy, cool under pressure Hope. He’d destroyed her tonight.
He could never forgive himself for it.
“She’s determined to see this through, Mitchell.”
“You’d better damn well make sure she returns unharmed. If you don’t, Luke will have your head on a pike.”
Hope punched her pillow before settling her cheek against the cool cotton. Bathed in total darkness, the room swaddled her in feigned comfort, her phone playing
Taylor Swift
on the nightstand.
“Get over it, Hope. It was a quick, lusty romp. That’s all.”
Why did she make a big deal of it? Her friends slept with just about every guy they dated. Why should she admonish herself like this?
You don’t sleep around
.
So, why did she sleep with Jaydan Rose, of all people?
She buried her face in the soft down. God, she’d acted like a complete tramp. A whore.
He’d ripped her clothes from her body
.
Shaking her head, she tried to make it go away. However, she knew it would haunt her the rest of her life. She’d let him take her, use her like some insecure, lovesick schoolgirl. He’d discarded her when he was done and told her he was sorry.
Uuugggh
…
You’re a better person than that, Hope
.
She
was
better. She’d come a long way.
Tonight, she lost what little ground she’d held.
Flipping onto her back, she cursed the tears that trailed down her temples and into her hair. To deny the sex had satisfied her,
thrilled
her, would be a lie. As a mater of fact, she’d gained from the experience.
She knew what excited her - and what mistakes she wouldn’t make again.
She’d had sex with Jaydan Rose. She refused to call it making love anymore. He had the body of a Greek sculpture, the dark, rugged good looks of a cowboy and one of the most adventurous and dangerous jobs in the world. If she had to lose her self-respect to a man again, she’d hit overachiever status.
Blue ribbon for you, Hope
.
Laying the back of her hand against her forehead, she sighed. Funny, how it’d been nothing like her vision. No tenderness, no heartfelt passion, no slow, luxurious lovemaking.
Just blinding lust.
It was times like these that she wished her mother were around. She would’ve understood her despair.
Hope was only five years old when Kimberly DePaul Powers lost her battle with cancer. To this day, she was the best friend Hope had ever known.
Warm memories of playing dress up with her mother had given Hope her love of fashion. She couldn’t count the number of times her father walked in on them laughing as they paraded in front of the mirror wearing feather boas and tiaras. When Hope raucously insisted they bury Kim with her favorite, hot pink boa, Luke had indulged her.
He even smiled when Hope wore her favorite tiara to the funeral.
Fisting the hand on her forehead, she told herself to woman-up. She had no one to talk to, and no one to blame but herself.
It was time to get on with the task at hand. Now that they’d found Keegan, they had to figure out how to get her back to Natalie.
Taking a deep breath, she cleared her mind to prepare for a remote view. She had to connect with Keegan again to learn her mental state, to see her thoughts now that she knew they were in Hawaii.
Why she’d suddenly backed away from her earlier, Hope didn’t know. Something had happened but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what she’d done to cause her reaction.
She did know the reason for the light in Cyrus’ eyes. Her diamonds. No one would
touch
her mother’s bracelets. They may be worth a lot of money, but to her, the memories were priceless.
Shutting her eyes, she settled into the bed covers and prepared to connect.
Anything to stop thinking about Jaydan.
***
The next morning, Hope walked into the kitchen without saying a word. Jaydan stood at the stove, eating a banana while pancakes cooked on the griddle. He scratched his bare chest, his eyes following her as she opened the refrigerator and poured herself a glass of orange juice.
“Want some pancakes?”
Shutting the refrigerator door, she walked past him. “No.”
He gripped the spatula in a tight fist, cracking the handle. God above, if he had to suffer with her silent treatment the rest of this trip, he’d lose his mind.
“I have a name for your redheaded hottie.” Jaydan spat the last word, the thought of Hope finding any man attractive nauseating him.
Stopping short in the doorway, she turned to look at him. Her hair was pulled back again, her face with minimal makeup. She wore faded jeans and a plain black t-shirt, her tiny feet bare.
Such a thing of beauty didn’t deserve what he’d done to her, didn’t deserve to spend time in paradise with a lowlife like him. He’d get Keegan Meeks away from Hawaii if it killed him, so Hope could get home and away from him for good.
“Well?” She held out her hands, palm up.
After all of the bullshit he’d just fed himself, the only thing he could think about was pulling her down to the floor and sinking inside of her.
His body stirred inside his half-zipped jeans.
“Dylan McCall.” Flipping over two pancakes, he looked up at her. “A deserter of the Marine Corp. He went missing from Afghanistan a few months ago.”
“Let me grab my tablet.” Rushing from the room, she reappeared seconds later as he placed the pancakes on his plate beside the stove.
Sitting on a stool at the center island, she placed the tablet on the granite surface and brought up the tracker. “I wonder what brought him here? What was important enough to make him break the law and desert his military career?”
Lathering his pancakes with butter and syrup, Jaydan set the plate on the counter beside her. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with worry. Swallowing hard, she scooted over in the seat, away from him.
Hell.
The tracker beeped on the counter in front of her. “He has siblings in Kansas, a parent or grandparent in Tennessee. It looks like he’s a few miles from here, on the beach side that faces the island.”
Jaydan came to stand beside her, one hand on the back of her chair, the other on the counter beside hers. She smelled like early morning rain, fresh and clean from a shower. He couldn’t help but inhale her hair under his nose.
“Do you mind?” She glared up at him.
He shook his head on a huff of laughter. “Not a bit.”
Rather than the smile he’d been looking for, Hope glanced down at the counter, her voice low. “Stop it, Jaydan. I’m not going to act like nothing happened. I may be sorry it did, but the fact remains that it
happened
. Things will never be the same again.”
Self-loathing held him in place, choking him, while an overwhelming sense of loss spurred it on. “I’ve spent my entire life getting it wrong, Hope. Why would you think I’d start getting it right now?”
Grabbing his plate, he slammed it down on the opposite side of the island, cracking his plate and the granite beneath. He settled onto a stool and sliced into the pancakes with his fork.
“Mitchell wants me to go in today.”
Her gaze shot to him, her face a mask of stoicism. “How?”
“I’m going to talk to our buddy McCall to see what he knows. If all else fails, I’ll tear my way in.” He nodded down at his plate. “I’m gearing up now.”
Stepping down from the stool, she said, “I’ll be ready to go when you are.”
“You’re not going.”
Turning around to face him, she stood hands on hips. “Yes. I am.”
Swallowing down a bite of food, he paused to stare at her. “No. You’re not. I want to get in, see what’s going down, get Keegan, and get out. If I take you, it’ll take me twice as long.”
“And how do you propose to get her to go along with you?”
He shrugged. “Carry her.”
Hope gave an incredulous bark of laughter. “You saw how she reacted last night. She’s terrified. She won’t go with you willingly.”
“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”
Starting toward him, she stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes zeroing in on the far wall. Her face visibly paled, her breath quickening.
“Hope...”
She didn’t acknowledge him, didn’t move a muscle.
“Hope. What’s wrong?”
Standing in place, she trembled, her chest heaving for breath.
Jumping up from his chair, he shook her. She didn’t respond, her body flailing like a ragdoll. Fear rolled down his spine, hot and lethal. “
Hope
. Dammit, wake up.”
She fell against him, her unconscious body sliding down his torso. Lifting her into his arms, he carried her to one of the living room sofas and laid her on it. Kneeling beside her, he clutched her hand in his and kissed her palm.
He couldn’t remember feeling this scared since his father died.
The realization startled him. He’d vowed long ago, after he’d left home, that he’d never fear again.
“Hope, wake up,” he whispered, kissing her lips, her forehead, her cheek.
The taste of salt on his lips made him sit up. Tears ran from her closed eyes and into the hair at her ears.
His heart pounded against his ribs.
“
Hope
,” he said in a loud voice. “Wake up,
dammit
.”
Her eyes opened as though she woke from a nap, calm and relaxed. “How long was I out?”
The breath rushed from him in a gust as curse words spew from his mouth like bad tobacco. “About three minutes. What the hell happened?”
Glaring at him, she sat up. “Why are you yelling?”
He waved an arm in the air. “You scared the shit out of me, that’s why.”
She stood and walked into the kitchen. “I had a vision. That’s all.”
He stared after her, incredulity rooting him to the floor. “Are you saying that happens all the time?” Rising to his feet, he followed her.
“Not all the time.” She picked up her orange juice and drained the contents. “Most of the time, I don’t black out.”
“And you’re just now telling me this?” He ran his fingers through his hair and over the microchip beneath. “What if it had happened last night at the luau or while you were driving?”
Whipping around, she waved her hands in the air. “What am I supposed to do, Jaydan? Sit in a chair twenty-four seven and wait for them?”
She had a point. It just didn’t make him feel any better about it. “Do you get any advanced warning?”
Taking a deep breath, she shook her head. “No. I’ve just tried to deal with them the best I can.” Her voice turned gloomy. “The truth is, dealing with the visions isn’t the hard part. It’s waiting for them to happen that’s difficult.”
Approaching her, he ran a thumb over her still moist cheek. “This one made you cry. What happened?”
She backed away from him, a glimpse of fear vanishing behind a wall of resolve. Walking past him, she headed down the hall. “Nothing that concerns you.”
***
They found Dylan McCall running up on shore, surfboard under his arm. The board had seen better days, as had the faded, navy swim trunks riding low on his hips. His washboard abs were lean and hard, the prominent muscles on his arms and shoulders a twisted harmony of sinew. What had been day-old stubble last night looked more like an unkempt, starter beard, his copper locks glistening with golden highlights.
The man ranked right up there at
stifling
on the hottie thermometer. However, he didn’t come close to Jaydan’s dark, mouthwatering appeal.
As if he’d known she’d been thinking about him, Jaydan’s hand appeared in her line of vision. She shoved it away. He never ceased to annoy her.
Shaking out his wet hair, Dylan didn’t see them until he threw back his head to swipe the hair from his face. Glaring at them, his steps slowed as he approached.
“How’d you find me?”
Stopping in front of them, his eyes tapered to blue slits. Water trailed down his golden torso, running past a three-inch scar that sat dead center over his heart, to disappear in his swim trunks.
Clearing his throat, Jaydan stared at her with a raised brow.
Are you through
?
She gave him a cheeky grin before answering Dylan’s question. “We tracked you.”
Setting the board end up in the sand, Dylan gave a bitter chuckle. “Of course you did. I’m convenient that way.”
She exchanged a confused frown with Jaydan.
“Why do you say that?” Rose crossed his arms over his chest. “Because we can track you by your smell?”
McCall did have an odor about him. One she would normally associate with someone whose water had been cut off and hadn’t showered in days.
Or someone that was homeless.
That’s when she noticed a backpack on a rock a few feet away, its contents scattered. The rock looked like her bathroom counter back at the house.
Dylan glared at Jaydan. “What do you want?”