Read Stolen [4] Stolen Chances Page 19


  “You never could just relax and enjoy the pleasure of my company until the formality of business was out of the way. I respect that about you, Maren. We’re such similar creatures, both of us willing to do any and everything to obtain our goals.”

  He trailed his finger down her arm, and the mere touch made her skin crawl, but she forced herself not to react. “We’re not the same, Evan.”

  “You know,” he said with a smug smirk, ignoring her words, “I could have any woman on the planet. Actresses, models, debutantes, royalty—they all throw themselves at me. All I have to do is look and they slip into line, do whatever I ask, wherever I ask.”

  She recognized the smugness in his voice, and bile slid up her throat. “So why do you continue to hound me?”

  He smiled, a slow and sinister grin that spread across his tanned face. “We’re cut from the same stone, you and I. I knew it the first time I met you, way back in that pathetic jungle. And I feel it now in the way you so easily forsake your family and friends, all for me.” He tilted her face up to his with a finger under her chin. “There’s love there, Maren.”

  Her stomach churned. He didn’t know the first thing about love. He never had.

  “I can give you anything you want,” he said. “With me, your life would never be dull, it would never be boring. You know all you have to do is ask, and the world is at your fingertips.”

  She’d heard it before, the offer to take her away from everything she knew and loved, to give her a life she never dreamed of. He hinted at love and affection, but deep down, she knew it was the conquering that thrilled him.

  “We were made for each other, Maren.” His gaze swept over her. “It was inevitable, you and I. You can’t deny history. His blood flows through my veins, hers through yours. Time and distance could never keep us apart.”

  She had no idea what he was babbling about. She only wanted him to refocus on the reason he’d called her. “My team, remember, Evan? Tell me why you called me here today.”

  “Business first. I do so love that about you.” He dropped his hand and sighed.

  “You’ve been silent for too long.” His voice turned hard, any pride he had in her convictions long past. “I expect updates. I don’t appreciate being left in the dark.”

  “There’s been nothing to update. We haven’t even found the wreck yet.”

  He studied her with narrowed eyes, and her stomach clenched as she stared back. He couldn’t possibly know they’d found the Conquistador.

  “I understand the cannons are amazing. It seems that tropical storm was a blessing in disguise for you, wasn’t she?”

  The blood drained from Maren’s face. He knew. He already knew. Someone had talked. Someone on the dig was feeding him information. Her mind spun. Who? Not one of the core group, she was sure of that. It had to be one of her father’s grunts.

  A woman. Someone who would be swayed by his power and money.

  “Nothing’s secret from me, Maren. I know everything. My eyes are everywhere.” He stepped close. “Just ask me how.”

  She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her squirm. Refused to fall into his trap.

  For a swift second, she felt the familiar burst of hatred she’d worked so hard to overcome. It was all she could do not to lash out at him. Thankfully, though, he turned back to the bar to refill his glass, and it gave her the much-needed moment of clarity to realize that wouldn’t help.

  “The infamous Thad Leighton,” Evan said in a jovial tone. “It must be something working with him again. How is he these days?”

  Her stomach rolled at the mention of Thad’s name, but she crossed her arms and tried not to let him see the question bothered her. But a niggling thought in the back of her mind wondered if he’d set off the explosion in that cenote because of Thad. To hurt him the way he’d hurt Colin. To prove a point to her. Common sense, though, told her not to ask. “He’s fine, I suppose. I don’t ask.”

  Evan eyed her over his shoulder. “And you haven’t told him about Isabel?”

  “Why would I? I’m not stupid.”

  “No.” His gaze raked her body, an intimate sweep from head to toe that sent her pulse higher. “You are most definitely not that.”

  Her palms grew damp. She wanted his attention back on the dig and off her. “So what else do you want to know?”

  He finished his drink and set the tumbler on the counter, letting the ice cubes clink in the empty glass. “I want to hear from you weekly, Maren. I want scheduled updates. I will not be kept out of the loop. Is that understood?”

  “Completely.”

  “Good.” He stepped closer. “Now that we have the business end of our arrangement out of the way, we can move on to something a bit more enjoyable.” He fingered the end of her hair.

  “No, we can’t.” She took a step out of his reach. “I’ll be your stool pigeon. I’ll even give you La Malinche once we find her. What I won’t do, however, is pretend to feel something for you. I’m not your wife, I have no desire to be your girlfriend, and I won’t be your concubine. I won’t sleep with you again, Evan. Aside from a business arrangement, we have no relationship.”

  He studied her for a moment. “And this decision is final?”

  She lifted her chin. “Yes.”

  “I see.”

  A wave of relief washed over her. He wasn’t going to fight her on this. He was going to agree to her stipulation, because in the end, he wanted La Malinche more than he wanted her. He was a smart man. He wouldn’t jeopardize his chance to finally get his hands on the priceless relic.

  His fist slammed into her face before she even saw him move. Heat snapped across her cheek, radiated through her temple and behind her eye. The blow was so strong it knocked her off her feet. She felt herself flying, then her back crashed into the glass coffee table behind her and pressure radiated through her right shoulder and hip.

  The table gave beneath her weight. Something sharp pierced the flesh of her shoulder. Her head rolled to the side as her eye, cheek, the whole left side of her face exploded in pain. Warm wetness trickled down her cheek just as the room began to spin.

  Somehow, she pried her eyes open, and when she blinked and finally focused, she saw Evan standing above her, his face taut with a menacing rage. “The next time you come to me, Maren, you’d better have a different answer.”

  He stepped back and smoothed out the lines of his silk shirt. Then he turned his attention to Maren’s right. “Ah, Stevens,” he said in a voice no longer laced with venom. “It seems Dr. Hudson has taken a nasty fall. See that she finds her way to the helicopter and have Davidson fly her back to Cancun. I’d hate to take up any more of her precious time.”

  He glanced at her battered body lying in a pile of broken glass and shattered wood. And she tensed, glanced down, and eyed the piece of splintered wood near her fingertips. He’d never hit her before, and she hadn’t seen that coming, but if he came after her again, she’d fight. Until the last breath.

  Disgust flashed in his eyes before he looked toward his servant once more. “Then get in here and clean up this mess.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Maren wasn’t exactly sure how she made it back to her hotel. Her head was in a fog, and the last hour was a blur.

  Keeping her gaze down, she made her way through the crowded lobby, not caring what she looked like to passing tourists. Now, right now, she only wanted to find her room.

  Every muscle in her body ached when she closed the door at her back after fighting with the key card. Flipping on the bathroom light, she squinted at the burn in her retinas, but forced herself to look at her reflection.

  Her left eye was already swollen, which explained why she was having trouble seeing. Her face was badly bruised over the entire left side, and a streak of dried blood ran across her cheek and forehead.

  She slipped out of her once-crisp white blouse, winced at the pain in her back, and turned to get her first glimpse. The bruise stretched from shoulder to hip,
and a large gash cut across the end of her shoulder, blood oozing from the wound. Her stomach rolled when she realized there were still pieces of glass spearing out of the horrendous cut.

  The room spun, and she gripped the counter to steady herself. Sinking down onto the lid of the toilet, she rested her head against her knees and focused on breathing.

  She wasn’t going to pass out, dammit. She’d tangoed with a tiger shark, she’d lived through decompression sickness, she’d even nailed natural childbirth. She could survive this.

  Feeling steadier, she reached up with her good arm and did the best she could to remove the glass. Pain shot through her shoulder with every tiny movement, but she ground her teeth and kept going. Confident she’d gotten most of it, she grasped a towel and wrapped it around her wounded shoulder. Then she stood on shaky legs and headed for the bedroom with slow, careful steps.

  She needed stitches. The wound was long and deep. It wouldn’t heal properly without them. She was pretty sure she had a concussion, and something in her was slightly worried he might have broken her cheekbone. She’d have to go to the emergency room. There would be questions, but she could handle them.

  She would handle them. But not yet.

  Sinking onto the edge of the bed, she closed her eyes. She hadn’t expected that from him. She’d never underestimated his power and knew he would do whatever he could to get what he wanted. He’d proven that fact in Mexico the day Colin had died. But as much as he turned her stomach, he’d always fawned over her, trying time and again to lure her away with him. She’d believed—no, she’d hoped, she realized—he felt something for her, however miniscule, that would enable him to understand her feelings and let her go when the time came.

  That would never happen, though. She knew now, no matter what he attained, he’d never completely let her go. She was a trophy to him, just as La Malinche was a treasure to be acquired. He’d never leave her alone as he’d promised. Once he had the statue, he’d still covet her until he won.

  It came down to one simple fact: he would never stop, not until she took the steps to make him stop.

  Breathing deep, she opened her eyes and picked up the phone. She dialed the number, waited, and tried to put on a smile when Candace answered.

  “Maren? Thank goodness. I’m glad you called so soon. I was afraid it might be days.”

  “Is everything okay there?”

  “Yes, everything’s fine. Isabel’s great.”

  “Good.” Maren swallowed around the lump in her throat. “Can I talk to her?”

  “Yeah, hold on.”

  There was a pause, then Isabel’s laughter rang through the line. The sound sent a wave of much-needed warmth through Maren’s whole body. “Hi, baby.”

  “Mom! I miss you. I’ve been waiting for you to call.”

  “I’ve missed you too, sweetheart. How’s your adventure?”

  “It’s great. Candace and I are having so much fun. We’re staying in the Chinook suite.”

  Her mother would die if she knew Maren was letting Isabel have the run of their most luxurious suite. But in a matter of days, that would be the least of her mother’s worries. “Sounds fun, honey.”

  “Is everything okay? You sound...sad.”

  Tears pooled in Maren’s eyes. “Everything’s fine. I just miss you, that’s all.”

  “How’s Grandpa?”

  She didn’t want to talk about Patrick. She just wanted to listen to Isabel’s sweet voice and soak it in. “He’s fine. Everyone’s fine. He’s still ordering everyone around. The grad students are all afraid of him.”

  “That sounds like Grandpa.” Isabel hesitated, as if she sensed something wasn’t right. “I love you, Mom.”

  The pressure in Maren’s chest squeezed tight, threatening to choke the life out of her. “Oh, I love you, baby. Every minute of every day. You are everything to me, Isabel.”

  “Are you sure everything’s okay, Mom? You sound funny.”

  Maren nodded to reassure herself. “Yes. Everything’s fine. Everything will be fine.” She wiped the tears from her good eye, feeling confident for the first time in years. “Now, I need you to put Candace back on the line. And Isabel, I need you to promise me something.”

  “What?”

  “Promise me you’ll do whatever Candace asks. Even if it sounds silly, go along with her. She’d never hurt you.”

  “Okay,” Isabel answered in a wary tone.

  Maren let out a deep breath. “Okay, put Candace on.”

  The phone changed hands. “Maren?”

  “I’m here. Listen carefully, Candace. I need you to go ahead with the plan.”

  “Maren, what—?”

  “I don’t have any other choice. If I did, I’d take it. Use cash only, no credit cards, nothing that can be traced. The passports are in the envelope as well. Stay small—no airplanes. It’ll be harder for him to track you that way. You’ll need to fool Isabel. She’ll pick up the passport has a different name on it.”

  Candace was silent for a moment, and Maren’s heart felt like it might explode. If her friend wouldn’t help her like she’d agreed so long ago…

  “I’ll...I’ll handle it,” Candace said. “Don’t worry.”

  Relief was as sweet as a summer breeze. “I know you will. I have faith in you.” Her mind spun again. “Go to the rendezvous point and wait. On the twenty-seventh, if nothing’s changed, I’ll wire the money. After that, take her and go, and don’t look back.”

  “I’ll be praying that you don’t wire that money.”

  “Don’t pray,” Maren said in a thick voice. “It’s useless.”

  “Maren—”

  “You make sure she knows, Candace. Make sure she knows I never abandoned her. When she’s old enough, you explain it to her, but not now.” Maren’s voice hitched, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before tears spilled over she wouldn’t be able to stop.

  “I will. I promise.”

  “You make sure she knows I love her too. I always loved her, I will always love her.”

  “I promise.”

  “Okay.” She took another breath. “I have to go.”

  “Are you going to be all right?”

  Maren looked down at her toes, lost in the thick fabric of the carpet, so much like her life. “I’ll be fine. As long as I know Isabel’s safe, nothing can hurt me.”

  “She’s in Cancun.”

  Thad let the screen door to Patrick’s cabin slap closed behind him and looked toward Maren’s father.

  Patrick pushed out of his chair and pulled his glasses off his face. “Cancun? Are you sure?”

  Thad yanked off his ball cap and raked a hand through his hair. He’d been useless on the boat today and had finally given up and come back to shore. Maren wasn’t answering her phone, and he had a knot in his stomach when he remembered the way she’d bolted yesterday morning. “I talked to the pilot at the airstrip who flew her there. And Sullivan contacted his whiz-kid brother, who hacked into her cell phone service provider. She’s made calls from an area around the airport over the past two days.”

  Patrick’s brow lowered. “I thought she was heading home. She shouldn’t still be in Cancun.”

  “Did you talk to your wife?” Yesterday, when Thad had been ready to go after her, Patrick had told him something had probably happened at the hotel and to trust Maren. She’d said she was coming back. But Thad’s instincts screamed something wasn’t right. The Maren who’d rocked his world in that stateroom was a completely different woman from the one who’d fled like she’d seen a ghost.

  “Yes,” Patrick answered, brow lowered. “But Sophia’s in Seattle on business. She called the hotel yesterday, but Maren hadn’t arrived yet.”

  “That’s because she never planned to go there.” Thad’s worry amped another notch. Whatever had spooked Maren into running had to do with the secret she was hiding. He felt it. And he wasn’t about to sit still and wait to see if she changed her mind and came back.

  He tugged hi
s hat back on. “I’m going after her.”

  “Leighton.”

  Thad stopped with one hand on the screen door. “Yeah?”

  “Thank you.”

  Maren’s father was as worried as Thad was. No matter what Maren thought of him, the man loved her. He just had a really bad way of showing it. “I’ll call when I have news.”

  Maren stood in the cosmetics aisle of the drug store, contemplating her choices. The swelling in her eye had finally gone down, but the bruises were still clearly evident.

  She’d bought the biggest pair of sunglasses she could find and was able to hide her appearance the few times she managed to venture outside her hotel room. But if she was ever going to get back to the dig, she needed to find something to cover most of the bruising.

  Glancing over the selection, she finally decided on a yellow concealer that claimed to hide even the toughest under-eye circles and a taupe foundation to smooth out her uneven skin tones. She tossed in another bottle of alcohol to clean the massive gash in her shoulder and paid for her items at the counter.

  She wouldn’t be able to dive, but she’d figure out a way to stay on the boat and work the artifacts they sent up. And she’d keep to herself. That was key now. No more fooling around with Thad. No more making things worse.

  Her chest pinched at the thought of him, and she drew a deep breath that did little to ease the ache as she stepped off the elevator on the fourth floor of her hotel. Looking down at the key card in her hand, she rounded the corner then drew up short when she saw two familiar long legs dressed in faded denim stretched out on the carpet near her door.

  Her breath caught, and she drew to an abrupt stop. Slowly, Thad unfolded himself from the floor where he’d been sitting and stood.

  “Wh-what are you doing here?” she managed.

  “Looking for you.” His eyes narrowed, and she thanked her lucky stars she’d kept her sunglasses on.

  “How’d you find me?”

  “Illegally.”

  She had no idea what that meant.