Danger Close Page 24

  Well, guess what, Mr. Billionaire? This is one man who can't be bought. I may never make the kind of money you do, but I'm my own man. No one manipulates me!

  With a deep inhale, Sam sought to harness his runaway temper.

  And what about Maddy? he asked himself. Did she have any inkling of what her father had just offered him? Surely not. She had never once hinted he should quit his job and shadow her for the rest of their lives. Sam, on the other hand, had suggested she quit her job. That probably made him a hypocrite, but it didn't change the fact that her father had manipulated circumstances in the past and had just attempted to influence Sam's very future. At the very least, he'd suggested that Sam and Maddy get engaged.

  Hah! Like he had any say-so in Sam's future matrimonial plans.

  He had no say-so. None at all. And there would be no future plans, because Sam would sooner face a lifetime of looking for a woman who made him feel the way Maddy did than bow to another man's dictates.

  Chapter 18

  Maddy regarded the door with concern. Sam had been out of the room for more than ten minutes. She'd overheard her father's voice at first and then the sound of him walking away. Still no Sam. She could use a cup of ice water, and she was hoping the nurse would remove the little stickers on her chest so she could get up and wash her hair. Maybe Sam could help her with that? She didn't want to spend the last night of her vacation looking like something the tide had washed in.

  At last the door opened—slowly. Sam edged into the room and right away, she sensed the anger and resentment emanating off his stiffly held body. He crossed to the foot of her bed and stuck his hands into his pockets, his dark eyes as inscrutable as the first time she'd ever looked into them.

  "What's wrong?" she dared to ask. Her heart blipped perceptibly faster on the monitor behind her. "What did he say to you?"

  Sam's chest expanded on a deep breath. His jaw muscles jumped. She knew whatever it was it had changed something for the worse.

  "It doesn't matter what he said." His rich baritone voice had turned monotone, emotionless. "Maddy, I've realized something about us."

  A weight fell on her chest. Here it came. Nothing as good as what they'd shared could last forever. "What?" she whispered.

  "I'm not the man you need me to be."

  She hadn't expected him to say that. "Why do you say that? What did my father say to you?" she repeated.

  "You need a man who's going to be there for you—maybe even travel to all the hot spots you insist on visiting." With every word, his tone grew more brittle. "You need a man who wants to follow in your father's footsteps and do everything he says. In short, you need a trained monkey, not a Navy SEAL."

  Stunned by his vehemence, she could only stare at him in horror.

  "I've enjoyed every minute of my leave with you," he continued, his tone now gravelly with emotion that she was only just beginning to glimpse in the depths of his eyes. "And you are a remarkable and beautiful woman, both inside and out. I meant what I said earlier—"

  Was he referring to that moment on horseback when he'd returned her declaration of love?

  "—but I can't give up my honor and my identity for you."

  Dismay pegged Maddy to the bed. Where on earth had he gotten the idea that he needed to give up anything to be with her? "Look, whatever my father said—"

  "I told you, it doesn't matter what he said. I knew this would happen. I'm not from your world, Maddy. I've fought for everything I have and everything that I am. I won't give that up for anyone. Not even you," he added with visible regret.

  A knot formed in Maddy's throat, preventing her from saying anything as he stepped over to her bedside and dropped a cool farewell kiss on her cheek.

  He straightened. "Now that your father's here, I don't need to stay."

  "Sam," she croaked, helpless to stop the tears that flooded her eyes. "Why are you doing this to us? We were fine before he came."

  The firm line of his mouth softened at her protest. He reached for her thigh, seeming to waver as he gave it a regret-filled squeeze. "Maybe I just need some time to think," he conceded gruffly. "I never saw myself getting involved with a rich woman."

  The unexpected confession gave her pause. "Who says I'm rich?" she protested. "I'm an environmentalist!"

  "You're the daughter of a billionaire who lives off her daddy's dime and under his thumb," he said.

  The unkind words skewered Maddy in the heart.

  "Well, I can't live like that. I've got to go," he added, turning and heading for the door.

  Mouth agape, she watched him pull it open. He sent her one last inscrutable look. Was that resentment burning in his eyes, or was it regret? The door opened and he stepped out. It shut a second later with a click that seemed to echo the snapping of her heart in two.

  Just like that, Sam was gone, possibly forever.

  Maddy fell against her pillow, covering her mouth to stifle the bewildered sob that escaped her tight throat. How could it be? Only this morning they'd been on horseback, utterly wrapped up in each other and looking forward to a future together.

  I meant what I said earlier.

  He loved her. He'd said so himself, even if the words were softly spoken. So why was the issue of her relationship with her father such a huge deal? What in God's name had her father said to drive Sam away?

  Resisting the urge to leap out of bed—she'd been told it would set off some kind of alarm—Maddy hit the call button summoning the nurse. It was either that or scream her father's name at the top of her lungs. Tears of frustration flowed freely down her crumpled face. She didn't bother to wipe them away. Her father needed to see what his controlling behavior was doing to her. She was going to lose Sam forever if her father didn't immediately address this problem.

  A nurse pushed into her room and drew up short. "Is everything okay, dear?"

  "Please, I need you to find my father. He went to find food. His name is Lyle Scott."

  "I'll have him paged," she promised. "Is there anything I can do for you myself?"

  "No, thank you. Just find him, please."

  Minutes dragged by, feeling more like hours as she waited for her father to reappear. When he pushed into the room, bearing a tray of dishes for them to share, he wore a distinctly uncomfortable expression. "Where's Sam?" he asked, his gaze darting toward the bathroom.

  "Gone," she said, fighting the impulse to fly into a rage. "What did you say to him?"

  He kept quiet, taking extra care not to spill anything on the tray as he laid it on her raised table.

  "What did you say to him, Daddy?" she repeated, her voice wobbling.

  He hung his head, staring down at the food he'd brought in. "Oh, Maddy, I was out of my head with worry." He had the grace to look ashamed. "I offered to pay him if he quit his job and stayed with you."

  "What?"

  "I wasn't thinking," he admitted, raising both hands in a defensive gesture. "I'm just... exhausted with trying to keep you safe and running for the Senate while chasing down my brother-in-law who wants me and the rest of my family dead."

  "Daddy!" she interrupted sharply. "This is not about you. Sam took off, do you understand? You insulted his pride by making him an offer like that. How could you do such a thing?"

  "I'm sorry." He looked down at his expensive shoes.

  "Not everyone can be bought," she continued, railing at him like she hadn't done since she was a teenager. "Especially not Sam. You should have realized that!"

  "Yes, yes, I should have realized. That was—" He shook his head. "That was bad form on my part. I'll go find him and apologize." He moved abruptly toward the door.

  Maddy let him go, though she knew in her heart that he wouldn't be able to find Sam. Not only had Sam had a ten-minute lead, but he'd probably fled the hospital like there was a fire under his feet.

  In despair, she collapsed against her pillows and closed her eyes. Mama, she prayed. You know Sam's the one for me. Please bring him back.

  * *
*

  Forty minutes later, Lyle Scott slipped quietly into his daughter's hospital room. He'd involved the entire hospital staff in scouring the halls and grounds for a tall, dark-haired, good-looking young man named Sam. Finally, a witness reported seeing someone of that description catching a taxi just outside the hospital's front doors. Lyle had immediately called Sam's cell phone but, of course, the SEAL hadn't answered. He left a lengthy and heartfelt apology on Sam's voicemail. Then he called the hotel where he'd made reservations and left a message on their room phone, as well.

  Except he knew Sam would never see the flashing red light. He might drop by the resort Lyle had paid for in order to pick up his bag, but then the SEAL would head straight to the forward operating base to await a military hop taking him back to Oceana Naval Air Station. He'd probably be back in Virginia Beach well before his leave ran out at noon. Maybe he would check his voicemail then. Maybe he would recognize Lyle's number and delete it.

  Either way Lyle had done all he could do to rectify his mistake, and he had a sinking feeling it wouldn't be enough.

  He still felt lower than whale scum as he neared Maddy's bed. To his relief, she was sleeping soundly. He was glad not to have to gaze into her pain-filled eyes and hear the accusation in her voice. It was hard enough to behold her red-rimmed eyes and accept that he was responsible for her heartbreak.

  It was his fault. He'd gotten so accustomed to "fixing" problems with his wealth that he'd forgotten some things couldn't be bought—like a man's pride.

  Ironically, he respected Sam hugely for turning him down the way he had. What had he been thinking making such a ridiculous offer anyway? He'd been too preoccupied with Maddy's welfare to think clearly. Hell, she'd nearly died today! He had every right to be concerned, especially when she insisted on fulfilling her contract with GEF, even with her crazed uncle still on the loose.

  And now there wouldn't be any Navy SEALs in Mariscal Estigarribia to rescue her if she got herself into trouble again. Ah, well. With the terrorists disbanded and Paul in Switzerland, how much trouble could she possibly get into?

  Knowing Maddy? Plenty.

  He picked up a pastry off the tray and eased into the armchair to eat it. The treat tasted like sawdust, but he finished it anyway, licking his fingers to get the stickiness off them. With a heavy-hearted sigh, he tipped back the chair, propped up his feet and fell asleep, hoping to heaven he hadn't wrecked his daughter's love life irrevocably.

  * * *

  Sam's breath fogged the window on the C-123 Provider as he watched his descent into Virginia Beach. He'd been gone less than three weeks, so why did it feel like he'd left the beach a lifetime ago?

  Picking out the boardwalk by the bright hotel lights, he noticed a number of cars still cruising the strip at two in the morning. He'd spent plenty of late nights there himself, mostly back when he was regular Navy. Cruising Atlantic Boulevard in his old Mustang, picking up women had been the norm back then.

  But those days were long over. He was a SEAL officer now and expected to comport himself with dignity. At the age of thirty, he'd grown weary of the type of women who frequented the oceanfront looking for a cheap thrill.

  He found himself comparing the shallow-minded, self-absorbed young women with Maddy, and all he could do was shake his head and collapse back into his seat. The weight on his chest made it hard to breathe.

  Maddy was a one-of-a-kind woman. He'd never find another like her. The only way that could be a good thing was that many women wanted to stay home and raise a family. If only Maddy had that urge, then a future with her wouldn't look so impossible. On the other hand, she was perfect—smart, worldly, compassionate, and incredibly, incredibly brave.

  Christ, he admired her so much it brought tears to his eyes.

  He thought about her going back to El Chaco and a wave of homesickness rolled through him—not for Virginia Beach or Miami, but for Paraguay. He wanted to go back with her.

  Maybe he should have taken her father's offer and run with it. How many times had he asked himself that in the last several hours. Double the salary, huh? Making twice the money he made now, he could buy himself and Maddy a house anywhere they desired to have a home base. He could follow her from one site to the next. Under his vigilant eye, he wouldn't have to worry so much about her safety. It sounded like fucking paradise, except for one thing: He wasn't made that way. He was his own man. He charted his own seas. His goals didn't come second to Maddy's.

  I made the right decision, he assured himself. Just then the C-123 Provider's landing gear groaned, and for a panicked second, he was back in the Cessna-182 bracing himself for a hard landing. He looked over at the empty seat next to him and pictured Maddy in it, scared to death.

  If he'd asked her to live with him in Virginia Beach, would she have even considered his offer? The memory of her hand gripping his as their Cessna went down had him curling his fingers into a fist. He remembered stroking the silky hair at the back of her head.

  We'll be all right, querida.

  Except they weren't all right. They weren't even a couple. They were two individuals returning to their very separate lives, pretending they'd never shared a deeply satisfying connection.

  Christ, I don't know if I can do this.

  * * *

  Maddy looked over at the driver's seat. "Thanks for doing this, Ricardo," she said, as he maneuvered the Jeep along the narrow dirt road heading toward South Chaco. "Now that you've given GEF your notice, I know you don't really have to come to work."

  "You think I'd let you drive into the wilderness on your own?" he scoffed. "Oh, no. Until GEF replaces me, you'll find me right here at your side."

  A sudden suspicion pricked her. "Has my father been paying you to keep an eye on me?"

  He shot her an incredulous look. "What? I wish," he retorted. "I could stand to make a little extra money. But I do have a confession to make."

  "What's that?" she asked as they lurched through a pot hole. The road had narrowed substantially in the last mile. Riddled with holes and strafed by gullies created in a recent downpour, the route would have been impossible in a two-wheel-drive vehicle. Even with four-wheel-drive, the rough going was making Maddy's stomach roil. She'd never been car sick before, but there was always a first for everything.

  "I was instructed by someone higher up the food chain to keep you away from certain areas of the region, like the one we're headed to now."

  She gasped in astonishment. "What?"

  He sent her an apologetic grimace. "Scott Oil must have bribed my immediate superior, or the next person above him, to keep GEF away from a region known to be polluted. I was specifically told to keep you from collecting samples in a certain area, the one where we're headed now."

  "Are you serious?" The implications distracted her from her car sickness.

  "Perfectly. At first it didn't bother me to comply with those instructions, but when I realized one of my bosses had been bribed and that the environment might be truly suffering, I decided it was worth my while to help you out, even if it gets me into trouble later."

  "Oh, I hope it doesn't," Maddy exclaimed. She lowered her window further, desperate for fresh air.

  Ricardo shrugged. "If someone gives me a hard time, then I'll know who took the bribe and I'll blackmail him."

  She had to fan her suddenly clammy face. "I never realized what a truly devious man my uncle was. He must have a friend in the CIA. Ricardo, can you stop the Jeep for a second?" she pleaded suddenly. "I think I'm going to be sick."

  Startled, he brought the Jeep to a lurching halt, one that made it impossible to keep her breakfast down. In the nick of time, Maddy threw her door open, leaned out, and vomited on a beetle scuttling across the dirt track. Sorry, buddy.

  She waited for more to come, but her queasiness had immediately abated. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, sat back, and shut the door against the stench. "Sorry about that," she said. "I've never been car sick before."

  Rica
rdo accelerated slowly, while slanting her a thoughtful look. "Maybe you ate some tainted food?"

  She thought back. "No, I just had bread and jam this morning. Come to think of it, I wasn't feeling all that great this morning. I must have picked up a bug."

  A hum reverberated in Ricardo's throat. His dark gaze flickered again in her direction.

  "What?" she asked, sensing he was keeping a thought to himself.

  "Okay, any chance you could be pregnant?" he inquired. "Lucía threw up every morning for the first three months."

  Maddy's breath caught. Every extremity of her body tingled. She'd entertained the thought that she might be pregnant about a week earlier when she first realized she was late. But she'd managed to convince herself that the physical trauma she'd endured followed by two weeks of emotional despair as Sam made no effort to reach out had confused her menstrual cycle. Suddenly, with Ricardo's suspicions weighing in, she could no longer deny the possibility.

  She groped for bottled water from the back seat, twisted it open, and washed the awful taste from her mouth. "I can't be pregnant," she explained to Ricardo. "The doctor in Curacao told me that the poison would affect an embryo adversely."

  His sidelong glance reflected sympathy. "That doesn't mean you're not pregnant," he gently pointed out.

  "You're right. I need to be tested."

  He didn't bother to comment that she would then have a heavy decision to make.

  God, could this really be happening now, when Sam had yet to attempt any contact? How much more time did he need? More likely, he'd already decided that they had no future together. Her spirits sank at the thought.