Be Careful What You Wish For

Chapter Eight

Sean stared at the fax, eyes failing to focus.

Why now?

Life had been so perfect. He and Sandra had fallen into a blissful routine. Every morning they’d go swimming, followed by a breakfast on the terrace. In the afternoons they’d hike or read, or perhaps even watch a movie. Their dinners were magnificent, celebrations of wine and desire that seemed to go on for hours. Sometimes he’d take her right on the table, other times he’d slowly seduce her over the course of the evening, then whisk her away to their bedroom for nights of wild lovemaking.

It would all come to an end now.

The fax was from Valzar. He needed the safe house for someone else. He didn’t give any details, and Sean didn’t want to know them. He’d been there for a full month—it was past time for him to start pulling his life together.

It was too easy to relax here, nothing seemed very real to him. That kind of relaxation was dangerous.

The fax made a pointed reference to Sandra, too, Valzar offering once more to help Sean with his little liability. Sean leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes and trying to think.

Why had he brought her with him?

He’d told himself at the time that it was because she’d seen him, could identify him to the police. It was a valid concern, but they could have worked around it. More bodies could have been found in that plane crash. The real reason he’d taken her was because he wanted her; he could admit that to himself. He’d seen her, wanted her and decided to take her. He hadn’t cared about the consequences. All he’d cared about was getting her under him in bed.

Valzar had lost patience with his little obsession, though. And he was right. They couldn’t just stay here in the jungle forever, pretending they were on some kind of bizarre vacation. He could see the questions and the fear in her eyes sometimes, and he knew that it was always in the back of her mind. What would happen to her? Would he grow tired of her? Would he kill her?

Killing her wasn’t an option—he’d realized that long ago. He simply wouldn’t allow it to happen. She was too special, too beautiful. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt her.

At the same time, he didn’t know what to do with her. Even if he set her up in a new town with new money, he wasn’t entirely sure Valzar wouldn’t go after her. His friend was very loyal and very thorough.

He’d only held off this long because Sean was actually with the woman.

He had to keep her with him. There was no other option. Otherwise, she’d never be safe.

How it would work he couldn’t imagine. He had some ideas of what he wanted to do, but he wasn’t sure if she’d be interested. Hell, no matter what he did, he’d have to watch her like a hawk. If she got away her life would be forfeit, and he couldn’t allow that to happen.

He’d simply have to find a way to keep her with him all the time. It would be easiest on a boat, he’d decided weeks earlier. Hell, he’d always liked the idea of living on a boat. There was one waiting for him in the Cayman Islands already, along with his money. Valzar had invested it well, spreading it around the world with a diversity and thoroughness that was frightening. Financially, Sean was doing better than any time in his life.

He’d always wanted a sailboat, and now he could have his dream. He and Sandra could sail the seas together, exploring exotic ports, swimming in warm waters. All he had to do was convince her to go with him. And watch her every moment of every day when they were in port to make sure she didn’t run off.

Of course, none of that changed his central problem—he wasn’t entirely sure he could live without her.

That’s what scared him the most.

Sandra lay out by the pool, paging idly through one of the books she’d found in the library. It was surprising to her how many different English language volumes there were. Of course, the selections were a little out of date. Whoever the reader was, they hadn’t been coming here for a while. She suspected there was astory behind that, but she didn’t want to ask anyone. Rosa was hostile at the best of times, so light conversation wasn’t really an option.

As if summoned by her thoughts, the maid stalked out on to the patio, a grim look on her face.

“You’re getting fatter,” she said bluntly. “I was doing your laundry, and your shirt is all stretched out.”

Sandra rolled to one side and looked up her.

“It got stretched when Sean pulled it off me,” she said sweetly, unwilling to admit how much she enjoyed the disgusted look on Rosa’s face.

Rosa glared at her, and then spoke abruptly.

“Senor Sean wants to see you inside,” she said, a smug look stealing across her face. “Senor Valzar needs the house for someone else and Senor Sean has to leave. You know what that means for you?”

Rosa’s cold eyes glinted, and she drew one finger across her throat menacingly.

“If I’m lucky, he may even let me do it,” she added. With a flip of her hips she turned and left the patio.

Sandra felt frozen. She’d put off thinking about this for weeks now.

It had been so easy to just pretend she was on vacation, to simply fall back and relax into the glory that was her time with Sean. And it was glorious. She could hardly believe how little she missed her old life.

After all, aside from her neighbors and a few friends, she didn’t have anyone waiting for her at home. Her brother was in jail, long lost to her even before he’d been sentenced. Her Aunt and Uncle, the only other close relatives she had left, had never been close to her. They were cold people, and had always disapproved of her parents. In fact, she couldn’t remember seeing them since the funeral.

It was been easy to put all that out of her mind, along with her bills and her tiny apartment. The only living things that needed her were the houseplants, and she had no doubt that her kindly neighbors had divided those between them. It had been depressingly easy for her to drop out of sight. Twenty-seven years old, and nothing of value to show for it.

She shook her head, and stood up. That wasn’t true. Her life had value. She’d helped hundreds of people at the sports clinic, and had been building a clientele that included many elderly people who had been soothed by her touch. She had healing hands, and she knew how to use them. She had something of value to offer the world.

She pulled a swim cover-up over the string bikini she wore. It, along with an entire tropical wardrobe, had arrived just days after they’d reached the villa. She had no idea how he’d done it, but Sean had arranged for her to get everything she could possibly need.

She walked slowly toward the house. She needed to talk to Sean, to find out what was really going on. It was too easy to listen to Rosa, and too easy fall into the trap of fear. Yes, her situation was tenuous, but against all rational thought, she found she trusted Sean. He had been good to her, and she knew he got as much pleasure from her company as she did from his. It was time for them to talk.

“Thanks for coming in,” Sean said. She’d found him in the study, his face serious. She’d tied her cover-up around her waist sarong-style. He liked it on her—she knew that from past experience. He’d told her once that nothing was sexier than a woman in a bikini with just a little fabric draped around her hips. She figured it wouldn’t hurt to remind him of that when they had their little talk about the future. If ever a time to pull out the big ammo had existed, this was it.

She sat down across from him, deliberately crossing her legs so the fabric fell open. She could feel her nipples coming to attention beneath the thin fabric of her bikini top. The air conditioning always did that when she first came into the house, and she saw his eyes darting there before returning to her face.

“I got some bad news this morning,” he said slowly. She nodded her head.

“Rosa told me.”

He grimaced, and then shook his head.

“Rosa isn’t exactly a reliable source of information,” he said.

“No, I try not to pay too much attention to her,” Sandra replied. “But it can be kind of hard to feel secure when the only thing I know for sure is that I’m already dead.”

“Well, that is a good point,” he said dryly. For some bizarre reason she felt a giggle crawling up her throat. She bit it back, knowing it was just tension.

“So, what now?’ she asked, laying their central dilemma out on the table.

“I have a plan,” he replied. “I’ve always wanted to live on a boat. A sailboat, to be exact. I’ve purchased one in the Cayman Islands. I’d like you to join me on it.”

He sat back, seemingly relaxed. She tried to think, unsure of what response to give. A boat could be good…

“I’d like that,” she said slowly. “I think we could have a good time on a boat.”

It seemed like such an inane statement. Her entire life depended on this man’s decisions and all she could think to say was I think we could have a good time on a boat?

But she couldn’t say what she was really thinking. A boat might make it easier to escape. She could even kill him and dump his body overboard. Of course, she didn’t have a clue as to how to run a boat by herself. But she could watch him. She could learn.

“How big of a boat?’ she asked, wondering if she’d have to deal with a crew as well.

“Fifty feet,” he said. “Sailboat. We’ll have two crewmembers to start with. They’ll be teaching us how to sail it.”

“When do we leave?’ she asked.

“Tomorrow morning.”

“What about documents? Won’t I need a passport?”

“That’s not a problem,” he replied, handing her a manila folder filled with documents. “You have a whole new identity now. Your name is Shannon Bradley, although I think I’ll call you Shan. Seems to fit your personality better.”

“It sounds like you’ve got everything figured out,” she said slowly. She didn’t ask what Valzar thought of the new arrangement, or what he expected to have happen to her long-term. It was a good enough sign that he’d gotten her a passport. Sean must plan on keeping her around for a while at least.

“I’ll pack my clothes,” she said reassuringly, willing him to understand. “I want to make this work, Sean.

I’m very highly motivated.”

She was highly motivated. He knew that already. In such a short time she had became an important part of his life, yet at heart he knew she was so good to him because she was afraid.

Despite the nice clothing, despite the long nights of making love in the cool air of the villa, Sandra was fucking him to stay alive. Simple, and not particularly pretty. She didn’t care about him at all and he couldn’t blame her for it in the least.

It was a terrifying thing to realize that your happiness depended on someone else. Especially when it was someone else who had little or no reason to care for you. He’d seen the calculations behind her eyes when she’d asked about the boat. She tried to hide her feelings from him but she wasn’t accustomed to deceiving those around her. She was an innocent, a child compared to him in a thousand little ways. She had no concept of what a man like him could do to another person.

He supposed he should feel guilty, but if he allowed himself to feel guilt over everything he’d done wrong over the years, he’d have killed himself by now. God help him, he would keep her by his side whether she liked it or not. The commitment was made and the plans were already well underway. All he had to do was follow through. She’d be his forever, and if having her was less sweet for her lack of cooperation, then so be it. Having her was worth any price.