Deep Blue (30 page)

Then everything happened at once. Conn eased back toward Andy and reached for the gun. At the same instant, Andy made some kind of move forward; Williams saw it and fired. Andy screamed in pain and pulled the trigger on the pistol, then hit the floor, clutching his leg.

“Get down!” Conn shoved Hope to the floor, shielding her with his body, as Williams returned Andy’s shot. Then Conn was up and running. He hit Williams with a body block that sent the man flying into the wall, his gun discharging again. Hope saw Eddie Markham go down. Conn moved again. She didn’t see exactly what he did to the Jamaican, but when she turned, the man was lying unconscious on the floor.

Markham was down and not moving. From beneath Eddie’s body, a stream of blood poured out on the floor.

St. Giles crouched beneath a table, his face as white as the walls. Andy lay there, making little groaning sounds. Conn’s weapon lay on the floor a few feet away. He reached down for the gun, but Forest’s deep voice stopped him.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Conn slowly turned, holding his hands out in front of him. He cast a look at Hope, saw that she was trembling but seemed all right, and focused his attention on the collector.

“Looks like it’s your call now, St. Giles. You can have your man kill all of us and take the statue, or you can turn around and leave. Sooner or later, the statue will be for sale and you’ll have another chance to buy it. The question is, are you a businessman, like you said? Or a murderer, like Eddie?”

St. Giles was visibly shaking as he climbed out from under the table. “Are you saying you won’t press any sort of charges?”

“You were only a buyer. We’re going to need buyers for the stuff we’re bringing up from the
Rosa.
”

“I’m not…not a murderer.” He glanced at the man who worked for him, sending a silent message. “We’ll be gone as soon as the weather is good enough for the plane to leave.” He tipped his head toward the door of the study. “Come, Forest. It’s time we were on our way.”

Forest waited for his employer to leave, then backed out behind him, still pointing the gun. When he reached the hallway, he stuck the pistol into the waistband of his slacks beneath the loose hem of his shirt, turned, and walked out of the house.

Hope surveyed the bloody carnage around her and felt a sob rising in her throat. She must have made some kind of sound because an instant later she was wrapped in Conn’s arms.

“It’s all right, baby. It’s over. Everything’s going to be okay.”

She nodded, her throat closed, tears burning her eyes. She clung to him for several long moments, thought of Andy, injured and bleeding, took a deep breath and walked on trembling limbs over to where he lay on the floor.

“My leg,” Andy said. “Oh God, it hurts.”

Using the towel Williams had brought her, Hope made it into a pad and pressed it against the wound to stop the flow of blood. Conn walked to the phone on Eddie’s desk and called the front desk.

“We’ve got a situation here. Send over your security guys and someone who knows something about first aid.”

The operator said something and Conn said, “That’s right, Markham’s house.”

He hung up the phone and turned to Andy, whose face was contorted in pain. “How did you get here?”

“I took the…Whaler. I figured I’d be back before anyone noticed it was gone. Eddie…he was supposed to pay me tonight…for helping him steal the Maiden.” Andy looked up at Conn. “The night he threw the party I was complaining about not getting a share of the treasure. He called me later and we made a deal.”

“You told them to come during Wally’s shift.”

He nodded. “I told them where to find the statue.” Tears welled in his eyes, making them look wavy behind the lens of his glasses. “I’ve never stolen anything in my life. I don’t know what came over me. I almost got both of you killed.”

Conn laid a hand on the smaller man’s shoulder. “That was a very brave thing you did tonight, Andy. You probably saved our lives. I think we ought to just call it even.”

Andy looked up at him. “I don’t understand.”

“Does anyone else know you were involved in this?”

“Only Eddie.”

Conn looked over at the body lying in a pool of blood on the floor. “Markham’s dead. We’ve got the statue back. Let’s just get you fixed up and let that be the end of it.”

Andy’s mouth hung open. “You mean…you’re not going to press charges?”

“No charges, Andy.”

Andy reached out and gripped his hand. “Thank you, Conn. I’ll never forget this. Never.”

“Money makes men do crazy things. Gold’s the worst. Maybe I should have cut a different deal with Bob and the crew from the start. Next time, I will.”

Andy said nothing, just eased his head back down on the floor. Hope kept him still and kept pressure on the wound while Conn went over to check on the other two men.

“Are they still alive?” Hope asked.

“They’re fine. Just a bad headache when they wake up.” Conn walked over to the window, ripped two of the gold-tassled drapery cords down from the curtains, then walked back and used them to tie the men up. They were conscious by the time the security guards arrived. Conn instructed the guards to take the men back to the main office and lock them up for the night.

As the guards were removing their prisoners, Chalko arrived. “The desk clerk said someone has been injured?” He looked down and saw Andy.

“Is that doctor still on the island?” Hope asked.

“Yes, I will take your friend there.” For the first time Chalko noticed Eddie.

“I’m afraid there was an accident,” Conn told him. “Eddie got into an argument with the men your people just took out of here. Things got heated. Shots went off and Eddie was killed. It wasn’t an intentional shooting.”

Chalko didn’t ask anything more, and Conn didn’t volunteer. There was no real law on the island. Conn wondered what would happen to the place, now that Eddie was gone.

“The rain has stopped,” Chalko said. “The storm is breaking up. The pilot says as soon as it is light, he will be able to fly out.”

Conn just nodded. He needed to phone the
Conquest
and talk to Joe, tell him what had happened. In the morning, the plane would be flying both Wally and Andy to the hospital in Kingston—and carrying two prisoners to the Kingston jail. He needed Joe to help with security.

A second trip would be required to transport Eddie’s body. Conn and Hope could fly the statue and the treasure in then.

“I guess Williams’s shot killed Eddie,” Hope said. “What do you think they’ll do to him?”

“Who knows? They don’t have jurisdiction over the island. As messy as this is, I’d just as soon stay out of it. I’ll tell them it was an accident, an argument that got out of hand. They’ll do what they do and that’ll be the end of it.”

“Ironic, isn’t it? Andy betrays you, then gets shot trying to save you. Eddie tries to steal the statue and take the money for himself and winds up getting killed.”

“Maybe that says something about doing what’s right.”

“Maybe it does.”

Conn took a last look around. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Let’s,” Hope said, starting for the door. “I can’t wait to get home.”

Conn caught her arm and turned her to face him. “Which home are you talking about, Hope? The home that includes me? Or the one in New York?”

The rain had stopped but the wind still howled. Palm leaves scratched against the windows of the villa, and the steady drip of water reached into the quiet of the bedroom.

Wet and miserable, Hope had showered as soon as they got back, changed into fresh clothes, then blow-dried her hair. She felt weary and desolate, and exhausted clear to her bones.

Conn was in the bathroom now. She could hear the shower running, then the soft roar of the spray came to an end as he turned off the nozzle and stepped out onto the Spanish-tile floor.

Hope pulled the thick white terry cloth robe a little tighter around her. The moment she had been dreading was only seconds away. Conn had said nothing on the ride back from Eddie’s and neither had she. Even after they reached the villa, the two of them had barely spoken.

Still, somehow he had figured out what she meant to do.

He walked out of the bathroom, wearing only a pair of navy cotton pants, no shirt, no shoes, his dark hair damp and glistening, almost black in the soft light of the bedroom. The faint shadow of a beard made his face look hard as he walked over to where she stood and reached down to take her hand. “I think it’s time we talked, don’t you?”

She only nodded. Her throat was aching. She felt the sting of tears but blinked them away. They sat down on the sofa in the living room, Conn still holding her hand.

“Go on. Say it. You’re getting ready to leave.”

She nodded, took a shuddering breath. “I’ll be going as soon as the plane can get me back to Jamaica. My boss called yesterday. I wanted to tell you, but everything got so mixed up.”

“How can you go back when you still might be in danger?”

Hope moistened her lips. “Artie and I talked about Hartley House. He says Mrs. Finnegan has agreed to sell. I told him I was glad. Too many people have been hurt already.”

“What happened to change her mind?”

“I’m not sure. Artie said as far as he knew there haven’t been any more incidents. At any rate, he wants me back and tomorrow I’m going.”

Conn’s hold tightened on her hand. “I don’t want you to go, Hope.”

“I have to, Conn. We both knew this would happen, sooner or later.”

“There are other jobs. You just finished writing a magazine series. Plans can be changed. I love you, Hope. I want you to stay here with me.”

I love you.
For a man like Conner Reese to say those words…The lump forming in her throat went tighter. Tears burned her eyes. “I can’t stay with you.”

Conn took a deep breath, released it slowly. “This isn’t the night I would have chosen. This isn’t the way I pictured it happening, but I don’t have time to wait.”

He went down on one knee in front of her, still holding onto her hand. He lifted her fingers to his lips and very softly kissed them. “I love you, Hope Sinclair. I want you to stay and make a life with me. I’m asking you to marry me.”

“Oh, God.” She started crying then—big, deep sobs she couldn’t hold back that made her tremble all over.

Conn sat down beside her and pulled her into his arms. “It’s all right, baby. Please don’t cry. You’re supposed to be happy when a man asks you to marry him.”

She only shook her head. “I can’t marry you, Conn. I can’t marry anyone.”

“If you love me, you can. Money isn’t going to be a problem. We’ll figure a way to work out the rest.”

She bit her lip, fought back a fresh round of tears. “You don’t understand.”

Conn straightened on the sofa, raked his dark hair back with his fingers, but his eyes remained on her face. “I know about the baby, Hope. Glory told me. She knew she was breaking a confidence but she loves you. She wants you to be happy. She wanted me to know what happened.”

Her chest was aching. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath.

“I can only imagine how much losing that child must have cost you. But what happened is past. I’m not like Richard. I won’t let you down.” He moved closer, bent his head, and very softly kissed her. “I can give you that baby you wanted, Hope. My baby. Say you’ll marry me.”

She leaned toward him, her eyes glistening with tears, and buried her face against his shoulder. If she hadn’t already known she loved him, she would have known then. She could read the pain her words inflicted and it hurt her as badly as it was hurting him. She wasn’t sure she could bear it.

But losing him now would be easier on both of them than losing him after they were married. She trembled as she eased back to look at him. “I’m not ready yet, Conn. Maybe in time…”

His expression subtly shifted, hardened. “Either you love me or you don’t, Hope. If you do, then marry me.”

“I told you, I’m not ready for marriage. Not after what happened. Not yet.”

“If I thought it would make any difference, I’d give you some time, but I don’t believe it would. I married one woman who didn’t love me enough to stay with me. I won’t make that mistake again. I won’t wait for you, Hope. Don’t expect it of me. If you love me, you’ll marry me.”

“Sometimes loving someone isn’t the only thing that matters.”

“It’s all that matters to me. If you leave, if you walk out that door, if you’re not willing to commit, don’t expect to come waltzing back into my life whenever you please.”

Her eyes slid closed. God, it hurt so much. “I can’t stay, Conn. I don’t have the courage. I—”

“That’s it, then? You’re saying tonight is all we have?”

She swallowed, every cell in her body aching for him. “Yes…”

His features looked carved in stone. “Then tonight, you’re mine.” Conn hauled her to her feet and into his arms, and his mouth crushed down over hers. It was a hard, bitter, savage kiss, filled with the pain of loss and despair. And yet she wanted it, craved it. Needed it like the air she breathed. She kissed him back the same way he kissed her, with all the pain she was feeling, all the regret.

She loved him. But she was a coward.

She loved him. But she could not stay.

She felt his big hands on the sash of her robe, jerking the ties, pulling it open. His mouth found her breast and he suckled her there, took her nipple into his mouth, bit the end. The robe fell away as he shoved it off her shoulders, down over her hips, into a pool at her feet. Then he was lifting her up, carrying her into the bedroom.

She could feel the warmth of his skin, the movement of the muscles across his chest. She trembled as he set her down on the edge of the bed, turned to strip off his pants. Returning to the bed, he kissed her, explored her mouth with his tongue, teasing and coaxing, making her burn.

“I want you to remember, Hope. I want you never to forget.” His mouth was a hot brand moving over her, leaving a scorching path along her throat, over her shoulders, the flat spot below her navel. Kneeling in front of her, he parted her legs, kissed the insides of her thighs, then he found the entrance to her core and his mouth settled there.

Heat enveloped her. Fire roared over her, burned through her, lifted her, scorched her until she dug her fingers into his thick dark hair and shattered in a powerful climax.

Conn came up over her, entering her roughly, plunging deep, impaling her with a single hard thrust and filling her completely. “I love you,” he said. “I want you to remember.”

Hope swallowed back tears, knowing she would never forget. With each deep stroke, he imprinted himself upon her. Each time he withdrew, she knew an ache so powerful she whimpered. And yet there was pleasure, intense and powerful. Deep and burning. She knew he felt it, that it was there, mixed with the pain.

The ache continued to build. She loved him. But she could not stay.

His beautifully sculpted body shifted as he moved. Powerful muscles rippled as he surged deeply inside her. She looked into his face and the pain she saw staggered her, made her weep his name.

His pain was hers; hers became his.

They clung together, overwhelmed by emotion, driven by despair. Conn surged into her again and again, and though she silently wept, she couldn’t resist the pleasure.

The first climax hit her so hard she shook. It was followed by another, even more intense. Conn’s own release hit equally hard, both of them trembling, their bodies locked together, covered by a sheen of perspiration.

He was still hard when he withdrew, his muscles taut as he rose above her on the bed.

“I love you, Hope. Say you’ll stay.”

She bit her lip, tears streaming down her cheeks. She only shook her head.

Conn stared down at her for a long moment more, his blue eyes full of longing. Then the emotion disappeared from his face as if it had never been there. He turned and walked out of the room.