Chapter 30
THIRTY
B laine tucked his phone away as Xanthe attacked the last of her dinner. He sat across from her at the little round kitchen table crammed next to a sliding glass door that led to her back deck. His plate was already empty because he ate fast.
He’d planned to pick up right where they’d left off once Xanthe finished, but Maddy’s call had changed that. “Hit the spot?”
“Mmm, yes,” Xanthe muttered, forking up another bite of her linguine with prawns.
There were plenty of other spots he’d like to hit for her. That kiss had been the hottest thing he’d experienced while still fully clothed. She had alternately melted and assertively demanded more, a sexy combination he wanted to experience more of.
Imagining sliding that robe off her and making her melt completely, the sounds she would make and the look on her face as he made her come, had him rock hard in his jeans.
“Was that Maddy?” she asked before shoving another forkful between her ripe lips. It was taking a huge amount of self-control not to grab the back of her neck and pull her in to lick the hint of sauce off them.
“Yeah, she’s driving your car over now.” He wanted to see the note before telling her, so he could assess the threat level. After what she’d been through, his protective instincts were in overdrive. “I should’ve ordered you another serving.”
She made that sexy humming sound as she swallowed her bite. “So good.”
“I’m glad.” He liked watching her enjoy her food. Being able to feed her, take care of her in that small way. “So, does this mean we’re not enemies anymore?”
She looked up at him, the spark of heat in her eyes telling him she was thinking of the kiss too. Then she narrowed them playfully. “Maybe. But don’t get cocky and think this means I like you.”
“No? Not at all? Because you seemed to like me at least a little before dinner got here.”
Her lips quirked upward. Every delectable millimeter of them kissable. Suckable. “Okay, maybe a little. But don’t you dare tell anyone I said that.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. But you’re gonna like me even more when I tell you I ordered us tiramisu for dessert.”
She groaned, her eyes lighting up. “You’re just trying to seduce me.”
He smiled, enjoying their dance. The push-pull and intellectual stimulation along with the physical. The challenge she presented.
“Am I?” He was glad she was feeling up to some banter. She seemed much better than when they’d first gotten here. Her cheeks had color again, her eyes sparkling with life. He hated seeing her sad, to know she’d been dealt a lot of hard blows recently.
And that he’d delivered some of them himself. He hated that most of all. Was determined to at least undo that damage and make it right. Apologizing was one thing, but talk was cheap.
He had to find a way to convince the rest of the board to change the footprint of the resort, carving out this piece. They could use it as a selling point, to attract people interested in the whales and research Xanthe and her team conducted here.
Watching her polish off her pasta, he mentally calculated how many minutes they had before Maddy got here. Enough to pick up where they’d left off and tug her robe open so he could see what he’d only been fantasizing about so far. “Do you want me to stay the night?”
She hesitated ever so slightly before answering, the desire in her gaze giving way to a hint of vulnerability that brought all his protectiveness to the surface. “No.”
“You sure?” He wanted to be here for her, and he would make it more than worth her while.
“I think it’s better for both of us if you don’t.”
He disagreed, but didn’t argue. Pushing right now was a tactical error he wasn’t willing to risk. She was already under his skin in a way he’d never expected, burrowing deeper every time he saw her. If he wasn’t careful, she’d take his heart too.
Xanthe set her fork down on her empty plate, licking her bottom lip. A deliberate move to torture him. Make him imagine her licking him all over. “So. Dessert?”
More blood rushed to his groin at her suggestive tone, the heat in her gaze. He was a second from scooping her up out of her chair and laying her out on the table to savor her instead of the tiramisu when his phone rang, shattering the moment.
He pulled it out, saw Maddy’s number and mentally swore at the interruption. “Hey, you here?” She’d made better time than he’d expected.
“No. I need help.”
He went rigid in his chair at the choppy edge to her voice. “What’s wrong? Where are you?”
“I was in an accident. Someone hit me from behind and took off. I went off the road and hit a tree.”
He was on his feet and moving for his keys in an instant. “Are you hurt?”
“I… No, I don’t think so.”
She was in shock. He worried it would trigger other things.
He kept his voice low and calm, to ground her. “Did you call 911?”
“Not yet. I…I think they ran me off the road intentionally.”
No, fuck that. What was going on? “I’m coming to you. Drop me a pin, then call 911. Stay on the line with them while you wait.” In case whoever had hit her came back. “I’m on my way.”
He lowered the phone and looked back at Xanthe, who was watching him with concern from the table. “Maddy was run off the road.”
She gasped. “Is she okay?”
“Think so, but your car’s not. I’m going to get her.”
She dropped her napkin on the table, started to rise. “I’ll come with you.”
“No, you stay here for now.”
Xanthe bristled. “It’s my car?—”
“I need you to stay here for now,” he said in a gentler tone. The note and the hit and run so close together triggered a warning buzz in his gut. “And lock the door after I go.”
Twelve minutes later he slowed his car as he neared the location Maddy had sent to his phone. Ahead on the left, he saw taillights glowing red in the darkness. He turned toward it, and the beams of his headlights illuminated the back of Xanthe’s car sticking out behind a tree.
Parking on the shoulder and leaving his hazards on, he got out and strode for the other vehicle. The back left corner showed impact damage. Maddy had hit the tree hard. The front end was crumpled right up to the engine block.
Maddy opened the door, phone to her ear and the deflated air bag hanging in her lap. “My friend’s here now,” she said, he assumed to the emergency operator.
Blaine leaned down when she ended the call, reached in and pulled her into a hug. “You okay?”
She nodded, exhaled as she hugged him back. Hard. “They’re sending someone out.”
“Good.” He kept her tucked close for another minute, giving her reassurance, waiting for her nervous system to realize she was safe.
When he felt her relax, he let go and sank down on his haunches next to the open door to take a good look at her.
She wasn’t bleeding or bruised, was coherent and moving okay.
Her eyes were clear, not blank with shock or clouded with terror like when he’d pulled her out of that hellhole of a prison in Syria.
He took her hands. Held them gently, warming her cold fingers. A physical reassurance that he was here, that he wouldn’t leave her.
Don’t leave. Don’t leave me, Blaine.
Those words, in that broken voice, were seared into his memory. “What happened?” he asked quietly.
“I noticed a car way behind me at one point, didn’t think anything of it. A few turns in the road later, it was suddenly right behind me, riding my bumper. It turned on its high beams, blinding me for a second. Then it hit my back end and drove off.”
He didn’t like the feel of this at all. “Do you know what kind of vehicle it was?”
“Car. Two-door, I think. White or silver maybe.”
No chance she’d seen the plate, then. “Did you see the driver?”
“No, I couldn’t see anything with the glare, except that it was just one person up front.” She reached across to the passenger seat to grab something. “Here’s the note.”
He took the bit of paper and unfolded it. TRAITOR!
Not all that concerning on its own. But with Xanthe’s car being run off the road soon after it was discovered… No chance they were unrelated. “Yeah, someone’s not happy with her.” Because of him?
“So this was a case of mistaken identity.”
“Yeah.” His instincts said this had been deliberate. Whoever had hit her had thought they were knocking Xanthe off the road. To kill her?
He took out his phone and called Rafe. Something dangerous was brewing here, and Xanthe was the target. He wanted it stopped before it escalated any further.
“I’m told your little campaign isn’t working.”
Don squeezed the tender muscles at the back of his neck with his fingers and rolled his head from side to side to ease the chronic tension there.
He’d hit the back right bumper to force Xanthe off the road without sustaining too much damage to his own, but even the force of that minimal impact had given him whiplash.
“I thought it was her,” he said into his phone. He’d left the car in an abandoned lot with other wrecks after wiping down anything he might have touched. Hopefully it would keep the cops from suspecting him.
“Well, it wasn’t,” the hard voice said. “And the word is Slater’s now dead set on changing the scale and design of the project, no doubt thanks to her influence.”
Don didn’t judge Slater for thinking with his dick. But he hated him for allowing that bitch to influence his views on the project. There was too much money involved. Too much at stake to risk Slater fucking it all up now. “He can’t do that.”
“He can with the number of people he and the good whale doctor can influence together.”
Don flushed and snapped his mouth shut, feeling like even more of an idiot.
He’d hit the bottle well before he went down to Cedar Point last night.
He’d waited until he’d seen Xanthe’s car leave the parking area and had followed.
The road had been empty except for her. He’d seen an opportunity to act and taken it.
The unknown woman he’d hit was still alive. Now Xanthe, Slater, and the sheriff were all aware that she was in danger. It would be even harder to get to her now, with Slater keeping a close eye on her.
“I’ll handle it,” he muttered, anxiety grinding a hole in his gut.
“You’d better.” The deadly threat in that hard tone sent a shiver up his spine.
He set the phone down and dragged a hand over his face. His life was coming apart at the seams. The more desperate he became, the faster it seemed to unravel.
Lazos was still a much easier target than Slater. She was his priority now. He would watch and wait for her to let her guard down. And then, once she was alone…
He would tie up this loose end and make it look like an accident.