Destination Wedding (7 page)

When he couldn’t reach the gun, Nick slammed Victor’s head against the floor. The Russian cried out, but kept control of the weapon, struggling to get it into position to blow Nick away.

Camille looked wildly around and spotted a Chinese vase full of flowers sitting on the sink counter. Snatching it up by the neck, she brought it down on Zanov’s head. He made a startled sound and went still as flowers and water fell around him.

Nick took the gun and heaved the Russian away. He landed with a thud on the hard floor, cracking his head again.

“Good work.”

She nodded, then said, “He saw you.”

He grimaced. “Unfortunately, staying out of sight only works when I can keep my emotions under control.”

He got to his feet and straightened his clothing.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He looked from her to the man lying on the floor and asked in a hard voice. “Do you want me to kill him?”

The directness of the question shocked her. She kept her gaze on Zanov, wishing he’d gotten killed in the struggle because that would make things easier. But he was only out cold, and even though he’d kidnapped and planned to rape her, she couldn’t order his execution. “I can’t ask you to do that,” she said to Nick.

His voice took on a tone of certainty, as though she’d confirmed something about herself. “I didn’t think so. But we’ve got to make sure he doesn’t send his goons after us.”

Nick looked around the room, walked to the bathrobes hanging on hooks and pulled out the belts, which he used to tie Zanov’s hands and feet. Then he used a small towel for a gag. When he’d secured the man, he searched his pockets and took out his wallet, keys and a small knife.

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure he can’t signal for help.” He dragged him to the linen closet, shoved him in and locked the door.

She stared at the closed door. “How long do we have?”

“I don’t know. Nobody’s going to interrupt him on his wedding night.” He gave her a direct look. “But getting out of here is going to depend on stealth.”

“What do you mean?”

“There are too many guards for me to shoot our way out. We may have to take care of some without the rest realizing what’s happening.”

All she could answer was, “Okay.”

They both exited the bathroom, and crossed the bedroom. Opening the door a crack, Nick looked out.

“There’s a guy at the end of the hall.”

“You could sneak past him.”

“But you can’t. And where would you be going on your wedding night? To get a glass of milk?”

She made a low sound. “More like an ice pack.”

He swore under his breath, and she turned toward him.

“That invisible thing. If you did it and put your arms around me, would that make me invisible, too?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then what are we going to do?”

“Call the guard down here and tell him that Zanov wants to talk to him.”

“On his wedding night? Is that believable?”

“This island is Zanov’s kingdom, and everybody who works here is trained to take Zanov’s word as law.”

She thought about how the staff had acted in the presence of the master.

Nick took a weird-looking handgun from his knapsack.

“What’s that?”

“Tranq gun. It will put him out of commission without making any noise.”

She nodded and opened the door. When she stepped partway into the hallway, the guard’s attention snapped to her.

“Can you come here for a minute,” she called out softly. “Mr. Zanov has a job for you.”

He looked doubtful but came down the hall, his automatic rifle held across his chest. As she stepped aside, he followed her into the bedroom. When he looked around and didn’t see the king, he gave her a questioning look. But before he could do more than that, Nick stepped from behind the door and zapped him with a tranquilizer dart. The guard folded to the floor.

Nick dragged him and his weapon to the other side of the bed where they wouldn’t be visible if someone happened to look into the room.

Nick came quickly back to her. “We’d better get out of here. You know the layout of the house?”

“Yes. Victor was very happy to give me a tour, He thinks any woman would be thrilled to live here”

He shook his head, then said, “We want to get to the natural area beyond the gardens.”

“He said it was dangerous in there.”

“Of course he would say that to keep you from trying to escape. But really, he doesn’t want any dangers creeping out of the jungle into his living area.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“What’s the most direct route from here to there?”

“Down the hall, past the living room and dining room. There are a couple of doors onto the patio.”

Before they left the bedroom, she laid her head against his shoulder, and he clasped her to him, folding her close. They had gotten this far, but she knew they still weren’t safe.

“There could be other guards. And I’m going to try and stay invisible,” he murmured. “You walk naturally, like you’re just going for a stroll.”

“Sure.”

She started down the hall and heard him following but didn’t look back. Most of the lights were off, but a single lamp burned in the living room. She peered around the corner and saw Mary Ann sitting on the sofa, her shoulders hunched and a tall glass of clear liquid in her hand. Vodka? As Camille watched, the woman took a gulp from the glass, grimaced and muttered something that Camille couldn’t catch.

It looked like Victor’s assistant wasn’t taking the wedding so well. She clenched her hand around the glass. Then she deliberately put it down, reached into the pocket of her dress, and pulled out a mobile phone.

Camille watched her face harden as she punched in some numbers.

When someone on the other end of the line answered, she spoke in a low voice. It sounded like she said, “Go.” But Camille couldn’t be sure.

The call lasted only seconds, and Mary Ann replaced the phone in her pocket, then threw her head back against the sofa cushions and closed her eyes.

Camille took a deep breath, then walked quickly but quietly across the open space at the edge of the darkened hallway. Apparently she hadn’t been seen because Mary Ann didn’t raise a cry of alarm. Or maybe she had seen and was hoping Camille would wind up with her head on a chopping block.

Nick joined her on the other side of the wide doorway. Neither of them spoke as they continued into the empty dining room, then through the doorway to the patio.

She looked back at Nick. “What was that about, do you think?”

“I don’t know. Let’s hope it doesn’t have anything to do with us.”

Camille nodded as they stood in the shadows, looking out at the darkened landscape. A few hours ago, the space had been set up for the wedding ceremony and reception. Now it was back to its original configuration with an umbrella table and a couple of chaises at the edge of the pool.

Nick’s hand closed around her wrist, and she went still. Following his gaze, she saw a guard with an automatic rifle approaching.

Both of them pressed into the shadows as the guy walked steadily toward them, then kept on going past.

When he had disappeared, Nick bent his head to her ear. “Walk right in front of me. With any luck, we’ll make it to the jungle before the security force figures out what happened in the bedroom.”

She nodded, then started across the patio. They were almost to the other side when a loud alarm began to ring, and floodlights snapped on.

CHAPTER NINE

Nick felt Camille freeze in place. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her off the hardscape and down into the vegetation.

“What happened?” she asked in a raspy whisper from where they huddled behind some tropical shrubs.

Nick shook his head. “You can bet nobody came into the bedroom unannounced. He must have woken up from his little nap and had some way to call for help.”

“But you searched him before we got out of there.”

“Yeah. Unfortunately he wasn’t carrying anything obvious like a signal device in his pocket. Maybe he had a panic button sewn into his clothing.” He snorted. “And another one in his pajamas—in case you tried to attack him.”

“I thought about stabbing him or something. I decided I wouldn’t get out alive.”

“Good thinking.”

“What are we going to do?”

“Put some distance between us and the house.”

As he finished speaking, he heard someone running across the patio and cursed under his breath.

As the footsteps veered off to the right, he whispered, “Come on.”

When she didn’t move, he reached for her hand and squeezed her fingers. “Now.”

Her attention snapped back to him, and she nodded. When he crawled farther from the house, she followed.

He stayed low until they were in deeper cover well outside the circle of illumination, then eased behind a tree and stood. When she joined him, he could feel her shaking.

“I thought we’d done the hard part,” she murmured.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said, the assurance automatic. He wrapped her in his arms, holding her for just a moment. She clung to him, but he knew they couldn’t stay where they were.

When he eased away, she made a small sound of protest.

The moon gave some light, but not enough to see well. Unfortunately, they couldn’t risk using a flashlight to make their way through the thick vegetation. He moved cautiously toward the center of the island, on the lookout for wild animals if there were any. Earlier when he’d made this crossing, he’d stayed off the trails. But both he and Camille were having trouble negotiating the wilderness in the darkness. When they came to a path going in the right direction, he knew they would make better time if they used it.

After weighing the pros and cons of getting out of the underbrush, he said, “Stay close. We need to put distance between us and them.”

She nodded, and he started along the narrow path, hearing her keeping pace with him.

They had traveled another hundred yards when his next step might have been his last. Instead of coming down on solid ground, his foot broke through a thin layer of matting, and he started pitching forward into a gaping hole.

He would have gone down into the pit below the surface of the trail, but Camille’s arm shot out, and she grabbed the back of his shirt, slowing his fall.

She couldn’t hold him up for long, but she stopped his downward momentum, and he was able to grab the side of the pit with one hand and keep himself from tumbling in.

She kept her fingers twisted in the back of the shirt, but he could feel the material sliding upward. Carefully he adjusted his position, bracing his right boot against the side of the hole while grabbing the edge with his left hand. When he felt more stable, he began to pull himself inch by inch back to solid ground.

Camille was still grasping his shirt when he rolled to his side, pulling her on top of him.

They sprawled together in a tangle of arms and legs, both breathing hard.

“Thanks,” he whispered.

She pressed against him, her cheek against his shoulder, and he clasped her close.

For long moments neither of them moved.

“What was that?” she whispered.

“A pit trap. That must be the reason Zanov wanted you to stay out of the jungle. Not because of wild animals.

He pulled out his flashlight, bent over the excavation, and risked a quick look into the darkness below.

At the bottom he saw rows of sharpened stakes sticking upward, ready to pierce the flesh of anyone who tumbled into the trap. Beside him, Camille gasped when she saw them.

“That would have. . .”

“Been pretty nasty,” he finished her sentence.

She was still staring downward into the darkness when he pushed himself to his feet and brushed the leaves off his clothing. Reaching for her hand, he pulled her up.

“Someone will figure out what happened. We’d better put some distance between us and this thing. And stay off the trails.”

“You think there are more of these?”

“Yeah.”

“Only on the trails?”

“I hope so. I didn’t stumble into any when I came cross country.”

He looked around, found a thin dead branch on a small tree and cut it off with his knife. Grasping one end, he probed the ground in front of him before taking a step.

The precaution slowed their progress, and after about sixty steps, he decided that he’d have to take his chances.

When he tossed the stick aside, she grabbed his arm. “Don’t you need that?”

“It’s slowing us up too much.”

Hoping he hadn’t made the wrong decision, he led her toward the tangle of vegetation where he’d stopped earlier, relieved when he found that the supplies he’d brought to the island were still in the bushes.

“Is it safe to stay here?” she asked.

“No. But I need the pack I left here, and you need to change out of that damn gown and robe.

“Right.”

He rummaged in his pack and pulled out clothing that was similar to his, green pants and a shirt like the guards’ uniforms, plus socks and running shoes.

When he handed her the outfit, she stood with the garments in her hand.

“Change your clothes,” he said, “I’ll keep guard.”

He turned away from her, scanning the darkness as he listened to the sound of rustling behind him, imagining her taking off the robe, then the gown. She wouldn’t be naked because she’d kept on her underwear, but the dainty bra and panties didn’t hide much. He forced himself to stand with his back to her when he wanted to turn, take her in his arms, and run his hands over her silky skin, even when he knew the images chasing themselves through his head were dangerous. He had to get her off this damn island, not make love to her.

“Okay,” she said in a breathy voice.

He turned and saw she was still buttoning the green shirt. Their eyes locked, and he fought not to reach for her.

“Got to stick to business,” he muttered.

She looked like she wanted to object, or was that just his own fantasy?

Acting on the business comment, he opened the knapsack and took out a hunting knife and a couple of tranq guns.