Connor (18 page)

"The chopper pilot said he'd be grounded when this storm hits. Are your other guests taking a chopper here?" Colt asked with interest, staring up at the increasingly brooding sky overhead.

"Actually no. They had business in town and so will arrive by limo." Rothmen's words were delivered as if to an annoying underling.

Connor stifled a groan. So it had started already, had it? Despite his reluctance to put Allie in the bastard's path, the sooner they cloned the files, the sooner they could be out of here.

The storm had passed by the time the Manacore set sail. As they watched the sun set over the glistening, golden ocean the air around them felt surprisingly fresh, the breeze salty and cool. They sipped colourful drinks in long glasses as they roamed the open sundeck at the rear of the ship's bridge. It would have been idyllic, Allie decided, had it not been for the company and the task ahead of her.

At least Con was playing nice now. She knew it had taken a lot for him to share his fears with her. The tough guy act was ingrained, she guessed. But having done so seemed to have eased his tension, and now he was the playful, cheeky guy she'd fallen for such a short time ago.

Fallen for
? That implied she loved him. She might have realised she was committed to him, was his mate, but love? That was a whole different ball game. But the more she let the striking thought wriggle its way past her defences, the more she realised the truth of it. Maybe it was fast, maybe this was a totally artificial situation based on genetics and danger, but being with Con made her feel content in a way she'd never known before. And she loved him. Not because that was what the cat wanted, but because that was what
she
felt.

"Penny for them," Con said, as they strolled away from the others and leaned their elbows on the railing, watching the propellers churn the water in their wake.

What would happen if she told him? Would it make things easier or harder for them? Damn it, life was too short to waste on keeping secrets. And she was pretty certain Con felt the same way about her.

"I just realised I really love you," she whispered, not looking at him but at the liquid gold and indigo they floated on.

For a very long time there was silence, and she sensed him tense up at her side. So she was wrong. For him, this was all about the cat. Her disappointment was a physical ache in the centre of her chest.

"I've never loved anyone in me life. Not me parents, not me brothers, definitely no lass I ever fancied. I blamed it on being grown in a test tube instead of a womb, yer know?"

She swallowed down the lump in her throat and nodded, still not looking at him.

"I didn't think I could love anyone. And I was okay wi’ that. The mild affection I felt fer the people in me life was enough. I didn't want more."

"I…I understand. Things are complicated enough without adding –"

"Then I met yer. And it was like me heart cracked open and I began feelin' things I'd only ever heard about. Not just the mate thing. More than that. I think I'd waited me whole life to experience love, and then there yer were, curled up below a window in a refrigerator of a room, lookin’ like one o’ the Sidhe, the Fair Folk. And it didn't matter that yer might be the enemy, I loved yer. And the longer I knew yer, the more I came to realise it."

His words had been spoken softly, loud enough for only their highly attuned ears to pick up. They didn't touch. They couldn't be seen to be romantic in any way. Knowing that made Con's words all the more potent.

"That’s good then. I'm glad we have that out in the open. Now if we can just live long enough to have our Happy Ever After, it would make this perfect." She heard him crack up at her side and she turned to look at him, feeling the smile tweaking her lips.

"Yer good fer me, lass. Aye, yer very good fer me."

"What are you two doing over here?" A booming voice interrupted their moment. It was Rothmen, with Mrs Huntington on his arm. The Manhattan socialite was an artificially preserved woman who could be anywhere between forty and sixty, her hair a white glistening pile of candy floss on the top of her head. If Allie wasn't mistaken, the hair-do was designed to disguise yet another elongated skull.

"Just admiring the sunset on the ocean. It's quite magical," Allie said, determined to start her flirtation with Rothmen as quickly as possible so they could end this before Con was pushed to his limit.

"It is that. Aren't you the pretty one," Mrs Huntington simpered, moving away from Rothmen so she could run a seductive hand up Con's bicep.

Allie gritted her teeth and turned to Rothmen, pasting a seductive smile on her face. In the gilded light, the man looked even more alien and predatory than usual. His dark brows and moustache were so at odds with what little grey hair he had left and his small dark eyes were as hard and flat as pebbles on a dry beach.

"May I promenade with you, pretty lady," he asked in his self-assured way that made her grit her teeth even harder. "Marcia will keep your boyfriend occupied while we're gone."

With one last glance at Con, who now had the socialite, dressed in a flimsy, backless, full-length sundress, plastered all over him, she took Rothmen's offered arm and let him draw her away. Her eyes were drawn to the gaudy medallion nesting in his hairy chest, revealed by his expensive, Hawaiian-inspired shirt, open almost to the waist.

Rothmen wasn't a tall man, and with her new, two-inch-heeled sandals, her eyes were level with his thin lips half hidden by dark hair. The thought of those lips pressed to her own made her feel sick to the stomach. But rather than show her disgust, she smiled brightly and looked up, tipping her head to the side while she batted her lashes.

"This is quite a
boat
you have here, Mr Rothmen," she said breathily, gesturing to the luxurious craft around them with a graceful hand.

The middle-aged businessman smiled benignly, accepting the compliment as his due. "Call me Karl, dear girl. We don't stand on ceremony here. Unfortunately, I don't get to use this craft as often as I would like. Business keeps me occupied. It is the most demanding of mistresses." Did he put emphasis on the word
mistresses,
and was it a hint?

"I can imagine. But it must make moments like these even more precious."

Rothmen turned so he could look deeply into her eyes. "All the more precious because
you
are here. I hope an old man's adoration doesn't offend you."

She fluttered her eyelashes and looked down, feigning pleasurable embarrassment. "Of course not. And you aren't old. I rather like mature men. They are so much more confident and powerful than younger ones."

"Like that boyfriend of yours?" One thick eyebrow rose.

"He's not really my boyfriend. I only met him a few days ago and he's… well, he's just useful, you know. Being Alyssa Aimes' bodyguard. I'm not used to rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous. He gives me the opportunity to do all this." Again she used her arm to indicate the ship around them.

"You could dispense with him, now he has achieved this goal for you. I would be more than happy to take his place, introducing you to a world where money is no object. How do you feel about that, Miss Wunderlund?"

"Call me Alice, please, Karl. What do you have in mind?" She smiled up into his face, trying to ignore his sleazy expression.

At that moment the dinner gong sounded and Rothmen's expression changed to one of annoyance. "I imagine you will have to wait a little longer to find out the answer to that question, Alice. Let me return you to your
companion
and maybe we can talk a little more about this later."

When she was safely back on Con's arm she let go of the breath she wasn't aware she'd been holding. From the pinched expression on Con's face, she wasn't the only one struggling to stay calm and unaffected.

"That woman is a piranha. That is one complication I wasn't expecting," he grumbled under his breath.

"Maybe having to deal with her will keep your mind off me. I think Rothmen is going to make his move tonight. And I made it clear that you are just a means to an end for me."

"Gee, what a great solution to me cat's possessiveness. Give it a bigger predator to deal with. I wish I'd never agreed to this feckin' plan. Puttin' yer in danger should ha' been a deal breaker." He swore in a language she assumed was Gaelic. But though she didn't recognise the words, she sure knew their intent.

"I agreed to this, Con. Don't go all macho shit on me. I've chosen this path, not you. Okay?" She glared at him as he scrubbed at his head, already looking a little pink beneath the buzz cut from what little UV light he'd been subjected to that afternoon.

There was no time for further discussion. They were being herded like genteel cattle inside and down the elegant staircase to the dining room two decks below. Here there was one long table set up, with Rothmen already seated at one end and his wife at the other. It reminded her of one of those Regency movies. Jane Eyre…no, Jane Austen, where the lord of the manor held court while the titled gentry ate course after course of elaborate food at a long table, making stilted small-talk the whole time. She hoped that wasn't what they had to look forward to tonight. Her stomach was already churning. Putting too much food in it might actually make her as sick as she planned to make Karl Rothmen.

The table was covered with a snow-white linen table cloth and under the modern chandelier the silver place settings shone like…well, silver. Though none of them was formally dressed, they'd all changed into semi-formal clothing that was as lightweight and cool as possible.

She was wearing the green silk dress Alyssa had lent her, because it fitted the occasion and the singer had refused to take it back. They'd even gone on a bit of a shopping spree the day before to buy up what little vacation-wear they could find. It had been the one bright spot in an otherwise bleak day of fear and dealing with Con's moodiness.

Allie looked at the available places left and wondered where they were supposed to sit. Colt and Alyssa were seated on either side of Rothmen, in the place of honour, she assumed. Next to them in a girl/boy arrangement, was Hall and his wife. At the other end of the table, Hugo sat on his mother's right hand side across from a middle-aged single businesswoman friend of Deirdre's who looked so much like a praying mantis that Allie shuddered every time she looked at her. On either side of the table next in line was an Asian couple they'd been introduced to earlier in the afternoon while the storm raged overhead. She thought she caught the name Jhing, but she wasn't sure. Next came Huntington and his piranha wife.

Hugo's two University friends came next, sitting across from each other, trying to look as if they belonged. They were clearly Guild offspring, and carried themselves with more confidence than Hugo. They likely befriended the insecure young guy to get in good with his powerful father. Once again, Allie found herself feeling sorry for Hugo, who had the misfortune to be born into this nest of vipers.

The only people not yet seated, besides Con and herself, were a middle-aged Italian couple who spoke very little English and Cam and Meredith. Con solved the dilemma for her by hastily taking the seat next to Hall's non-entity of a wife, which meant she was forced to sit next to Hall.

Cam quickly stepped in and took the seat next to Allie, which meant Meredith had to sit between Con and the Italian man. She was anything but happy. It would be interesting to see how long she controlled her bitchy nature after being warned to behave herself by her father. Meredith didn't hit her as someone who was easily cowed.

Around the edge of the room were discretely placed guards and black servants waiting to identify any need the guests might have and meet it. Con and Colt had walked the ship not long after they boarded to 'check security'. He'd come back saying there were at least a dozen fully armed guards and as many staff on board. It was a lot for the Sons to take down when the time came, but she had to believe that Chase had it all in hand. All she had to do was her part of the mission.

While the first course, of king prawns and avocados, was served, she tried to make small-talk with Hall. The man seemed annoyed by Con's presence, and pointedly ignored him. Allie decided to take the opportunity to safeguard her mate.

Under her breath while she made as if she was chewing, she told him her plan. "I…I wasn't happy that Connor was shot. I didn't sign on for accessory to murder. So I told him what you want me to do and cut him in on the deal. He's a mercenary, after all. It seemed a fairly safe bet that he'd play along as my boyfriend for a decent financial incentive. And I was right. Because of him I was able to seduce Cameron. And he's fine with me doing what I have to with Rothmen. So you can call your dogs off."

"It is cheaper for me to remove him than pay him off," Hall hissed into his napkin.

"You aren't paying him off. I am. You offered me a great deal of money. I'm happy to give him a proportion of that to be my beard. And he can make sure Meredith doesn't suspect I'm sleeping with her fiancé, too. I will prostitute myself for you, Mr Hall, but I won't be a party to murder."

She turned and smiled politely as if she'd just told him something interesting and was waiting for his comment.

"You don't make the rules here, girlie," he said with a cold smile that chilled her right to the bone, even when the night was still so warm.

"Do you
want
me to keep seeing Cameron? Do you
want
me to let that bastard Rothmen seduce me?" she asked sweetly, leaning in and fluttering her eyelashes at her employer.

"Of course. All right. I'll give you this one. But only because it has proven more difficult than I expected to have the bastard removed. But if he proves to be a problem in any way…"