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A Cold Dark Promise (A Wedding Novella) Page 2
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“So, go to the authorities,” Alex said impatiently. He wasn’t her stooge. He didn’t have time for this. He was getting married next week. They weren’t friends. They’d never been friends.
“He must have paid the cops off. He wouldn’t be there otherwise. If I go to them he’ll know. He’ll run.”
Alex rolled his shoulders and leaned forward so his forearms rested on his knees, still cradling his paper cup of coffee. Birds sang in the trees that bristled with new leaves. Daffodils nodded their yellow heads in time with the wind.
“Help me grab Taylor, and get us back to the US. I’ll take care of things from there.”
“You’re asking me to take a child away from her father,” he said calmly.
“He stole her from me!” Her eyes burned electric blue. She put the coffee cup down, untasted, hands gripping one another like tangled vines. “I was willing to abide by the court order. I was willing to share Taylor for all our sakes. But Masook didn’t want that. He didn’t like the fact I left him and took our daughter. He thinks he’s above the law.”
Now that Alex was going to be a father, he’d gained a better understanding of Jane’s anguish. And Masook’s.
Jane grabbed his hand. “I’m begging you.”
The fact that she touched him was astonishing. She’d always been petrified of him. Yet she’d come to him for help.
Her eyes sprang wide as she realized what she’d done. She released him and inched farther away. Then her lower jaw thrust out mutinously and her eyes narrowed. “I could threaten you and your precious fiancée. I could rip your world apart.”
Alex held her gaze as everything inside him stilled. A little piece of his soul tore loose and drifted away on the breeze.
“I could. But I won’t.” Her expression turned stricken. She stuffed her fists under her armpits as if deathly cold. “I’m just saying I could.”
And he’d destroy her. But he didn’t want to destroy her. She was already broken.
“Taylor might not even remember you anymore.”
Her mouth warped as her expression shattered. “I know. But I also know the kind of man Ahmed is.” Her fists clenched and unclenched in her lap. “I will not abandon my baby to that monster.” She started to sob.
Alex didn’t want to be moved by her impassioned plea. He stared at his shoes. Jane was young. She could have more children. Even as he thought it he knew it wouldn’t matter. One child did not replace another.
She stood, wiping her cheeks. “What would you do, if it was your child?”
Alex had the knowledge and skills to go after anyone who threatened his family, which was why Jane had come to him. He’d tear the world apart inch-by-inch until he found them. But he wasn’t a killer for hire, or someone’s pet mercenary.
Jane seemed to understand his decision without him saying a word. She closed her eyes and appeared to sway in the gentle breeze.
“What are you going to do?” He couldn’t get involved. He was getting married in a week’s time. He had no authority in France. He didn’t even like Jane Sanders.
But he understood her.
Her chin lifted. “I’ll go myself.”
“You’ll die or get arrested.”
The grief in her eyes was haunting and familiar. “I’d rather die than never get my little girl back.”
Alex thought of his own mother’s gentle touch. Her loving smile. Her warm hugs. He imagined Mallory in Jane’s place. It didn’t matter. He knew what his answer had to be. He couldn’t help Jane.
Silently, she stood and walked away.
Chapter Two
Mallory opened her small suitcase and began tossing things in for her bachelorette weekend. Rather than go to a bar—she was pregnant after all—she’d organized a relaxing couple of days at a spa in Virginia, not far from the vineyard where she and Alex planned to tie the knot a week from Saturday.
In reality, the knot had been tied months ago. Alex was hers. She was his. They’d made their vows in that snowy woods, deep in the heart of West Virginia, with a serial killer bearing witness. But perhaps it was as important to do it in the light, before friends and family and not surrounded by the taint of evil.
She wanted them to be a family. Happy. United. In every way possible. She wanted him to know the depth of her feelings, of her commitment, to both him and their child.
She shot him a glance, wondering if he was at all nervous. He lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He was naked, and they’d devoted the last hour to making love. Not a bad way to spend her day off.
She found a bathing suit that would hopefully stretch over her ever-expanding bump and tossed it in the case, along with a novel she’d been wanting to read. In all honesty, she’d rather stay home with Alex, but her mom was excited and determined to milk the mother-of-the-bride experience for everything it was worth. As this would be her only chance, Mallory was indulging her.
Mallory touched the curve of her stomach, the fluttering movement from within reassuring her anxious heart. Margret Tremont understood how committed she and Alex were to one another. How unbreakable their bond. But maybe that’s how her mother had felt about her father before their lives had been ripped apart by her sister’s abduction.
Almost losing this baby had been terrifying. Taking things for granted was foolish, especially in her line of work and with Alex’s past history. Mallory was trying to learn to enjoy each moment—beginning with relaxing and having fun this weekend. Getting pampered and stealing some much-needed sleep.
Besides, it had been a long time since she’d simply hung out with girlfriends. A long, long time. As much as she loved Alex, she needed her friends, too. Their child would need friends, playmates, siblings. They’d need their community.
Her bridesmaids were her two best friends from college and FBI Agent Ashley Chen, who she’d bonded with since they’d started working together a few months ago. Ashley was dating one of Mallory’s oldest friends, Lucas Randall, who was also a groomsman, so it made sense to include her in the wedding party. The main issue was figuring out where Ashley could conceal her weapon, as FBI agents were never officially off-duty. Mallory wasn’t even going to try to wear her Glock. There would be more armed guests at this wedding than at most police academy graduations. She should be safe enough to take the day off.
She and Alex were going to split their time between this apartment, which Alex was keeping because his firm was based in the city, and a beautiful old Victorian they’d found closer to the FBI Academy where they both spent most of their time working these days. Workmen had been renovating the Victorian for months, and Alex had been updating the security, but it should be ready for when they came back from their honeymoon in Hawaii.
Nothing but the beach and relaxation for two whole weeks. She couldn’t wait.
She looked at Alex and realized something was wrong. She was naked and even when she wasn’t, he spent most of his time watching her. Not in a creepy stalker way. But in an I-can’t-believe-I-got-this-lucky kind of way. It had been distracting at first, and always flattering. Right now, he wasn’t paying her any attention.
He was brooding.
Uh oh.
“What’s up?” she asked him.
He glanced toward her and grimaced. He said nothing so she came closer and straddled his hips, settling her weight on his warm skin and lean muscle. She traced her hands over his stomach.
“I can make you tell me.” She grinned. But shadows moved across his silver eyes, turning them pewter.
He trapped her hands. “Jane Sanders contacted me today. I met her at the zoo.”
“Oh.” Jane Sanders? Mal went to move off him, but Alex gripped her thighs.
“What do you know about her?” he asked.
Mal frowned. Jane Sanders bothered her for many reasons, chief amongst them was Jane had worked for her mother and had been involved in The Gateway Project. Jane had left DC once Mal’s mother had stepped down from the senate. Mal had assumed that would be the last
they’d ever hear from the woman.
“Not much. What does she want? Is she going to cause trouble for us?” This was her one true fear. That someone would reveal Alex’s past and she’d lose him. She could not lose him. He said he had safeguards in place. She trusted him, but she worried…
He rolled them so they faced each other on the bed, and touched her face. “It’s okay. We’re okay.” He drew in a breath that spoke of regrets and misgivings. “Her ex-husband’s a wealthy Saudi businessman who snatched their kid during his first visitation four years ago. Kid will be eight now.”
Mallory’s mouth opened in shock. Being pregnant had changed her perspective about a lot of things. Must be the hormones, but all her emotions seemed deeper now, more rounder, more fully formed.
“I didn’t know. She never mentioned it.” But why would anyone bring that up in casual conversation? Not to mention Mallory had been consumed by the mystery of what had happened to her own sister, consumed by her own pain.
“Why did she want to talk to you?” she asked.
“She got word the ex turned up on the French Riviera, and she wanted me to help snatch the kid back.” He touched his forehead to hers. “I told her no. I’m getting married next week. I can’t leave now.”
“What did she say?” Mallory braced herself for threats and blackmail.
“That she’d do it herself.”
Air deflated from her lungs and shame for being so caught up in her own worries crept over her. It wasn’t that long ago that she’d been the one desperate for answers.
They stopped talking. Alex’s hand moved to cup her full breasts. He teased one nipple until she throbbed and moaned. She rolled onto her back as he explored her with strong hands and a clever mouth. She wanted to touch him, but he often seemed to need this—to touch and explore her like she was his magical place. He took his time, claiming every inch of skin as his own while her blood slowly heated.
Licks of pleasure spiraled into a cyclone of lust. His fingers dipped between her thighs and she moaned. Finding her ready, he turned her away from him, arranging a pillow beneath her baby bump and another cushioning her head. This was her favorite position now she was pregnant and he knew it. Alex moved behind her and slid deep inside and she came with a deep shudder. He leaned up, squeezed her nipple even as he thrust slowly in and out. She could lie like this for hours, days, it felt so good. She shook with pleasure, and she couldn’t bear for it to change but…
“More, Alex. Deeper.” It was a private joke between them, but the hoarseness of her voice took her by surprise. He got to her every single time.
He angled them slightly, and pressed deeper, touching that spot inside her that made her tremble and shudder and fly off that ledge again like a skydiver at terminal velocity. She cried out and he thrust faster, his hands gripping her hips as sweat made their bodies slick.
She ground against him and felt him stiffen as he came inside her. His fingers clinging to her like a man trying to save himself from drowning.
Their breathing quieted. Heartbeats slowed and melded.
The dying sun cast long shadows through their bedroom window.
“You have to help her,” Mallory said quietly.
His arm curled over her hip, and he pulled her closer.
“I can take another week off work,” she said.
“No way are you getting involved in this.”
She looked over her shoulder and smiled. “You can’t stop me.”
He kissed her fingers and smiled sadly. “I know I can’t stop you, but if you insist on coming with me, then I won’t go.”
His silver gaze wasn’t angry or demanding. It was calm. Implacable. Mallory blew out a big breath of frustration. It was the first time Alex had refused to let her be involved in something. She knew he hid things from her occasionally. But the two of them had made a promise to one another the day investigators had uncovered her sister’s body.
No more lies.
Ever.
And that was why he was telling her this now, she realized.
Her fingers gripped his, hugging him to her. “I don’t want something bad to happen to you.”
“I can take care of myself.”
She swallowed. “I know you can, but I don’t want you to have to take care of yourself. I want to look after you. I want to be the one watching your back.”
He ran a finger down her spine and followed it with his lips.
She closed her eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“I do. I feel it every time you go to work without me.”
But he let her go anyway, because she needed the space to do her job, and he respected that. He respected her.
She rolled onto her back. She didn’t want Alex to go on this job without her, but she knew she wasn’t the only one who needed space to work, even when that work wasn’t clearly defined. She touched his face.
“I can’t go.” Alex insisted, but there was no conviction behind his words. “We have a wedding to prepare for and a dog to look after.”
Rex was in the living room on the couch. He’d fetch a ball from dawn until dusk, but he was generally a couch potato which suited them both perfectly right now. Mallory intended to get a puppy or two after the wedding. She’d convince Alex by reminding him dogs were good security.
“All you have to do for the wedding is turn up—and write those place name cards. The wedding planner,” who Alex had nicknamed the General for good reason, “is doing virtually everything else including arranging transportation for all the guests who are flying in. I can make any last-minute adjustments and double-check on the flowers and still go to work every day next week. Hiring that woman is the best idea you’ve ever had.”
He laid his ear against her belly. “Not the best idea, but pretty inspired.”
She sank her hands into his hair. “When will you be back?”
“I imagine Wednesday at the latest.” He placed one large palm on her stomach and held her gaze. “I won’t take any unnecessary risks, and I won’t do anything stupid. If the child is there I will either figure out a way for the legat to get involved.” The legat was the FBI’s official presence in a foreign country. “Or I’ll sneak them away when no one is looking and bring her, and Jane, back to the States.” Alex kissed her stomach again. She knew he was impatient to meet the newest member of their family. “I’m not sure the daughter—Taylor—will remember her mother after four years.”
Mallory’s heart clenched, and her hand went to where their baby was kicking her low ribs. Alex linked their fingers. She already felt overprotective. The idea of someone stealing her baby… She swallowed hard. This was important. Jane Sanders had always seemed a little aloof, and no wonder. Her child had been stolen and the fact it was by the father made it no less heartbreaking for the mother.
Mallory touched Alex’s lips. “Don’t be late for the wedding. Promise?”
Silver eyes met hers. “I promise.”
Chapter Three
The sun was hot on the back of Alex’s neck. It might only be April, but it was already in the nineties on the French Riviera. He wore sunglasses, white pants and a hand-tailored pastel pink shirt with the top two buttons undone. His cuffs were folded precisely, halfway up his forearms. His shoes were a tan leather. Italian. Expensive.
A brand-new SIG was strapped to his ankle. Ankle holsters were not his favorite place for concealed carry, but anyone wearing a jacket stood out in this heat, and he excelled at not standing out.
He, Jane, and Jack Reilly, one of the operatives from Cramer, Parker & Gray, had quickly overnighted it to Paris on the company’s jet, then rented a small private plane to Nice. Alex’s cover was that of a wealthy German national on holiday with his American wife. The American wife had been told to do nothing except wait patiently for his instruction. Something his real wife-to-be would have smacked him for suggesting. But if Ahmed Masook found out Jane was here, he’d run, and she’d never see her daughter again.
Alex would hav
e left Jane in the States except the idea of being arrested on child abduction charges the week before his wedding was not his idea of fun. He had promises to keep, and he’d brought Jack Reilly along to help make that happen. He didn’t completely trust Jane not to betray him in some way if it meant getting her child back.
Alex flicked through the news articles in the German newspaper, Die Zeit, while sipping a cappuccino. This particular coffee shop overlooked the marina in Port Vauban where the mere mortals moored their yachts. To his right was Quai des Milliardaires or Millionaires’ Quay. Even the super-yachts had been superseded by the palatial mega-yachts, and if you had to ask the price of moorage you should probably just turn around and sail into the sunset.
Alex was loaded, but only Saudi princes and Russian oligarchs had that sort of money to burn.
Antibes was a beautiful town, rich with history and French artistry. The ocean was a deep azure blue so bright it made his eyes sting. Rows of brightly colored watercraft bobbed against the gray-green rock of the ancient harbor walls.
Thankfully the marina was busy—it made hiding in plain sight that much easier. A steady stream of people headed in and out of the harbor. Tourists explored the town behind him and the fort on the hill to the north. Locals drove by. Fishermen. Teens. Parents with small children. It was a beautiful setting, and he wished he was sharing it with Mal.
A woman with warm bronze skin and jewel-like, green eyes watched him from another table. He caught her stare. She blushed and looked away. She was beautiful but seemed out of place. Maybe because she was alone in a country where beautiful women were rarely alone for long. He finished his drink and signaled the waitress for the bill.
He spoke French with a strong German accent. “Merci beaucoup.” And left her a good tip.
Then he strolled past the small yachts of Port Vauban, surveilling the area with a hidden camera attached to the top button of his shirt and another digital SLR hanging around his neck. A tourist with nothing to do but enjoy the day. He moved slowly, joked with a couple of men coming in off the water with sun-reddened cheeks, smiles, and a cooler full of fish.