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  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five Brant saw the strength go out of her, even though she held her back ramrod straight, locking her knees so they wouldn’t buckle. “Take it easy,” he said. “Are you okay?” She nodded slowly, looking stunned. No wonder. She’d had a few surprises lately. The compulsion came, swift and strong, to comfort her, to offer her his strength, but it wasn’t his place. In the end, he put an awkward hand on her shoulder, got frustrated at how unsatisfactory that was, then pulled it away. “You barely had time to process that someone you once knew very well wanted to kill you. This is all just too much at once.” He paced some then stopped. She nodded without looking at him. “William is gone. We are not going to get any answers now, are we?” “We’ll get some answers. You have my word on that.” She attempted a feeble smile that turned his protective instincts up another notch. He hated seeing her miserable. “You need a glass of water?” He stepped toward the sink. She shook her head. “Want to t

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six When they got to Cavanaugh’s mansion, Brant slowed the car enough for a quick peek through the wrought-iron gate. He could see no activity beyond. The estate was surrounded by a six-foot tall stone fence on the street side and the property backed onto the water. Philippe Cavanaugh had his own private beach, with his own marina. The Cayman Islands were a popular touchdown point for both drugs and illegal immigrants heading for the U.S. from South America. Did Cavanaugh traffic in either? His police record was pristine. He’d never been charged with anything. Which meant he was as sly as a fox, because according to Carly, who’d culled his financial records, and Anita, who’d analyzed them, he had considerably more money coming in than his legal businesses produced. Brant drove by Cavanaugh’s mansion and the next, pulling over at the corner of the street. “How about a walk?” Anita unsnapped her seat belt. “Sounds like a good idea.” He went around and opened the door for her, hel

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven Brant opened the door for her. She liked that, his old-fashioned manners. Common courtesy was all too rare these days. “We got Ian McGraw.” Carly greeted them as they stepped into the office. “So where is he?” Anita asked. “In rehab.” Brant’s eyebrows slid up his face. “For how long?” “No way to tell. He’s got a nasty meth addiction going. He checked in a month ago.” About the time the women had arrived on the island. “Doesn’t mean he’s not our man,” Anita said. “But makes it unlikely. Tsernyakov is not stupid. He has his associates checked out. He wouldn’t trust his business to someone who is unstable.” That sounded logical. “So we are down to three: Marquez, Cavanaugh and Lin.” “Can’t do anything about Lin until he returns to the island. Let’s get working on the double on eliminating or confirming the other two.” “I forwarded you some more financial records, Anita,” Carly said. “Thanks.” She walked toward her office. “I’ll get right on it.” She tossed down her bag and t

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight Anita was wading through the numbered accounts Cavanaugh had in Switzerland. How on earth had Carly gotten to these? The kid was a genius. She glanced up at the sound of the office door opening and felt a pang of disappointment when, instead of Brant, she saw Nick walking in. He was tall and muscular, looking like the commando guy that he was—cute and sexy, to boot. He didn’t interest her whatsoever. Diosmio, she had it bad for Brant. “Missed me?” He grinned as he looked around. Gina was coming out of her office. “Like we miss lockdown.” “Aww.” Nick put a hand to his heart and flashed a heat wave of a grin. “You make me feel all soft and fuzzy.” “There are pills that can help with that now,” Gina said dryly, but she had a half-smile on her face. Anita sent the screen she was working with to the printer then got up and walked out of her office. “Hi.” “What’s up?” Sam was asking as Nick dropped his duffel bag by the front desk. She still sounded nasal, but looked a lot bett

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine She’d never imagined it could be like this again. She’d never come close with any other man since Miguel. But here in the surf under the moonlit sky, Brant made her forget about the past. She floated on the sheer pleasure of his touch. A bigger wave washed over them without warning and they came up laughing and gasping for air. He sat up and pulled her into his arms, brushed his lips over hers again, smiling. Then something switched and the next minute he was staring at her with something akin to shock flashing across his face. He looked away and stood abruptly. “I’m sorry. This is—We can’t do this.” She looked up at him, bewildered, speechless for a long moment before she could force, “It’s okay,” past the sudden lump in her throat. He extended a hand to her, pulled her to standing. “We should go.” The look in his eyes was raw, his body hard with suppressed passion. The sudden switch of emotions was giving her whiplash. She stared at him, trying to figure out what was goi

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten Tsernyakov looked at the e-mail on his screen displaying the list of locations expected to be effected by the materials he was producing for his buyers. He had insisted on receiving the list and with good reason—it looked like The School Board’s operations were about to have a serious impact on his own. Since getting anything into the U.S. was deemed too difficult these days, The School Board had decided to release the virus at top global vacation spots for U.S. tourists and let them carry it back to their home country. He went down the list again. Canada, Great Britain, Ireland and Australia were choice spots for those who felt uncomfortable leaving the English-speaking world. Rome and Paris were also popular destinations. Then there were the Caribbean Islands, exotic, yet still close to home. Among these, The School Board had chosen Grand Cayman. Tsernyakov closed the e-mail and thought about Cavanaugh. On the one hand, it would be a shame to lose him. They’d known each o

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven Brant was leaving. He hadn’t even come into the office today. Anita stared at the numbers on the screen as she grappled with the thought. Her laptop beeped with an instant message. From Brant. “Are you in the office?” “All morning.” She typed the response. “My first outside meeting is after lunch.” “I’ll pop over. Got good news.” She wanted to ask what good news, but he had signed off already. He was coming over. She resisted the urge to run to the bathroom to refresh her makeup. He was leaving the island soon—a depressing and disheartening thought. He had good news. Good news would be if he had suddenly realized that he was in love with her and couldn’t live without her. The scene that flashed through her mind was a lot like those South-American soap operas she loved to hate. Not likely, she thought. He wasn’t the fanciful type. He was reasonable and thought things out, steady, solid—qualities that drew her to him. He was an honorable man. And he was sexy. She tried not

  Chapter Eleven

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