Part 14 (1/2)
”There's no time to discuss the issue, Noah,” she insisted. Despite his irritation and the situation, the sound of his name on her lips made him yearn to hear it again. ”Casey ordered me to go. I can't risk having her arrive here and...”
”Then let's not argue. I'm going with you.” He took her by the arm and headed toward the front door. ”Besides, you wouldn't know where to go for transportation to the mainland anyway. You'll need me for that.”
Well, he had her there, Blue admitted silently. ”What if we can't get back in time? Have you even left the island in the past five years?”
That dark gaze settled onto hers, the finality there unmistakable. ”We'll be back in time.”
BY 3:00 a.m. Blue was edging toward panic.
”You're certain the message I received was a hoax?” Victoria Colby asked for the third time.
”Yes, ma'am,” Blue explained yet again. ”We believe Leberman is trying to lure you to the island using Mr. Camp as bait.”
The look of distress that marred the woman's face revealed clearly the depth of her feelings for Lucas.
She shook her head. ”I should have killed Leberman when I had the chance.”
Blue's gaze met Noah's. To say that the statement surprised her would be putting it mildly. One never expected that kind of thing from a lady dressed in designer clothes and with the presence and carriage of a highbrow sophisticate.
”Ma'am, I'm sure Mr. Ruhl will be here soon and he'll explain everything more completely.”
Blue glanced at the sky once more, then back at Noah. He didn't look at all concerned, but she d.a.m.n sure was. Every minute they waited put them that much closer to dawn. The boat ride back to St. Gabriel was a good thirty minutes. This was just too close for comfort.
Mr. Venable, grumping about the unG.o.dly hour with every breath since they'd rousted him from bed, waited in the boat. Blue had insisted that Mrs. Colby remain in the limo with her pilot and the driver. She and Noah did the same.
To her extreme relief a car at last pulled into the parking area. The pilot, who sat in the pa.s.senger seat next to the driver, checked his side mirror. ”It's Simon.”
Blue breathed easy for the first time since leaving the house. She had to get Noah back there. She and Noah emerged from the car and greeted the arriving agent. He was tall. Definitely the dark, silent type.
Before Blue could stop her, Victoria got out as well.
”Victoria,” Simon said with an acknowledging nod. ”You had us scared there for a little while.”
She shook her head. ”I'm certain it was Lucas's voice.”
Blue remained silent, as did Noah, and allowed her agent to allay her concerns.
”It may very well have been his voice, but that doesn't mean it was on the up-and-up. You'll be safer here in Savannah. Miss Callahan and her people will keep us informed.” He looked to Blue.
”Of course,” Blue agreed. ”You'll know the minute we hear anything.”
Victoria reluctantly gave in. ”All right. We'll wait.” She glanced at Blue, then Noah. ”Thank you for coming.” She blinked furiously at the tears welling in her eyes. ”I apologize for the inconvenience.”
Noah gifted her with one of his rare, charming smiles. ”It was no inconvenience whatsoever, Mrs. Colby.”
She managed a semblance of a smile. ”Have a safe trip back to the island. And find Lucas, would you?”
Getting back to the island and then the house could be a little tricky, however, the promise they made to Victoria Colby about finding Lucas might just prove impossible.
Leberman could be waiting near the island dock. Victoria's instructions had been wait at the dock once she arrived, for transportation on the island. He could have more underlings like the two they'd taken down after Lucas's shooting watching from just about anywhere on the island.
But she and Noah had no choice. It was a risk they had to take.
Noah's life depended upon getting back to the house before daybreak.
THE PINK HUES of a distant dawn were streaking across the sky by the time they reached the house. Noah's hands shook when he attempted to unlock the door, his only visible concession to the anxiety hurtling through them both. Blue sensed his urgency, and very nearly had a nervous breakdown herself. She was certain Mr. Venable would refuse any future offer, no matter how generous, to take her or Noah anywhere. The tension had been as thick as peanut b.u.t.ter during the race across the expanse of water that separated St. Gabriel from the mainland.
Her stomach still churned from the rocky journey.
As soon as the door was locked behind them and the code entered into the security keypad, they performed a quick search of the house. Noah had started arming the security system since Lowell-Leberman-had never been privy to the code. Blue put in a call to Director Casey that the mission had been accomplished. He was greatly relieved. Whatever fate lay in store for Lucas, he would not want any harm to come to Victoria. Blue was positive of that as well.
As she and Noah collapsed on the sofa in the parlor, she wondered what it would feel like to know that kind of love.
Unbidden her gaze moved to Noah. He looked tired. She was certain he'd had even less sleep than she had. She thought again of what he'd told her about Rothman's suggestion that he try the antidote serum. She wished that Noah could have his life back...could walk out into the sunlight without fear. But he was right, trying the serum wasn't worth the risk.
She'd rather have him forever in the darkness than lose him entirely.
The thought gave her a start. What was she thinking? He didn't belong to her in any sense of the word. When this mission was over she would leave, even if she did linger for that unfinished business. Their lives were destined for different courses. But each time she looked at him, as she did now, she realized how accurately she had imagined the artist behind the painting. He was everything she'd fantasized he would be.
”If only I could read your mind,” he said softly, his voice silky, dangerous. Dangerous to her heart.
She inclined her head and studied him. ”I'm exhausted. If you could read my mind, you'd...” She sighed then. ”You'd know that I feel helpless. I can't do anything for Lucas...I...” She shook her head.
”You need sleep.”
She shook her head again, then her newly determined gaze settled on his. ”There are things we need to talk about. Like your artwork. I want the truth about Noah Drake.”
Tension reverberated inside him, but he tamped down the automatic response. He could share his love of painting with her. Not only could he, he wanted to. How smart was that? He almost laughed at his continued need to protect himself. What did it matter anyway? She would be gone soon...it was too late to change the fact that he had grown attached to her. Why pretend? Why ignore the need that would not be slaked by any other means but touching her...having her.
”The truth?” he asked.
She nodded and relaxed more fully into the leather cus.h.i.+ons.
”I received my first canvas and set of oil paints as a gift from my mother on my twelfth birthday. She was an artist and I was pretty good as a kid. At least she thought so.” He hadn't thought of his parents in so long the concept of having family hardly felt real. The memories were almost like someone else's! He'd trained himself not to think of them. It was easier that way. No, it was more than simply easy, it was necessary.
”Where are your parents now?” she asked, obviously sensing his melancholy.
”They died in a house fire about ten years ago while I was away on a mission. They were buried long before I even knew they were dead.” He would always regret that. He'd been an only child; there had been no one else. A longtime family friend had taken care of the arrangements and pushed the Department of Defense until they located Noah.
”So you started to paint seriously when you were twelve?” she prodded him back to the subject at hand.
He nodded. ”But as time went on one thing or the other always got in the way. Girls, cars.” More recollections he hadn't considered in years. ”After signing on with the military I never looked back.” He glanced around the parlor, considered that this place had been his prison for five years now and yet he'd never really lived here. He'd merely existed, gleaning minute fragments of happiness from his ocean and his painting.
”When this happened, I had nothing and no one. Finally I turned to the one thing I'd always wanted to do...painting.” He shrugged self-consciously. ”It's kept me sane...” He thought about the waves cras.h.i.+ng against the sand outside and even the house that he more often referred to as a prison than not. All of it, even the island had kept him grounded to a certain extent. Yes, the bitterness was still there, but it had lessened somehow these past few days.
She was the reason.
For the first time in five long years he felt something more than the bitterness...more than the need to paint and to run in the darkness. He felt desire and physical need. And those emotions were reciprocated, he knew. Whether she permitted herself to admit the truth or ever allowed herself to succ.u.mb to the temptation, she was drawn to him. That simple, basal response awakened his long-slumbering libido.
”Well-” she curled her legs under her ”-if we're going to play truth or dare here, I suppose I can confess my secret as well.”