Unfinished Business (21 page)

Alex returned to the hotel four hours later and checked into his own room. He had met an island man who owned a fruit stand across the street from the airport. The man claimed that he had seen the abduction of an American woman taking place that morning in front of the airport. The man swore the woman had been Christy after taking a look at the photograph Alex had shown him. But that was where the information had ended. Everyone else Alex questioned seemed to have seen or heard nothing, or they had refused to get involved by saying anything.

Alex had tried calling Baker at the FBI headquarters to see if he knew anything, but all he’d gotten was the man’s secretary, who was evidently screening the man’s calls. Pulling his shirt off, Alex tossed it across a chair. He wasn’t ready to notify the Madaris brothers that their sister was missing. All hell would break loose when he did. Besides, Christy was his, and he would find her no matter what.

He was about to remove his pants when he heard a knock on his door. He quickly put his shirt back on and picked up his revolver. Easing over to the door, he looked out the peephole. It was the man he’d talked with earlier that day and he was with a woman who Alex assumed was his wife.

Alex slowly cracked the door open a little. “Yes?”

“My woman has information. She thinks she has seen your wife.”

Hope flared through Alex’s tired body. He hadn’t gotten any sleep in the past twenty-six hours, but he refused to think of rest until he found Christy. He told everyone he’d talked with that she was his wife, since he was well aware of the care, custody, and control rule these islanders lived by. An unmarried woman roaming around without the protection of a husband was fair game, but the abduction of a married woman was not acceptable.

“Please come in,” he said, moving aside to let the couple enter. The woman, he noticed, waited for her husband to go first and then walked in meekly behind him.

Alex closed the door behind them. “When did she see her?”

The woman began talking in Bislama, a language Alex did not know. The man translated his wife’s words. “My wife says when she delivered fruit to the sheik who that lives on the hill, a woman who looks like your wife was being taken inside the villa.”

Alex lifted a brow. “A sheik lives on this island?”

“Yes. He recently purchased the villa and only comes here occasionally, and when he travels he does so with a lot of servants.”

Alex nodded. “And you say that he lives on a hill?”

The man shook his head. “Yes. His house is big and looks down at the beach. It’s the only one that’s on the private road leading up the hill and is surrounded by a huge black iron gate.”

Alex breathed in deeply. Just the thought of Christy being held somewhere against her will amplified his anger. If she was harmed in any way, he would kill the bastard who’d had the nerve. “How far is it from here?”

“Around five miles. He has a bodyguard who looks mean and dangerous.”

It was on the tip of Alex’s tongue to tell the man that he was mean and dangerous as well. Instead, he thanked the couple for the information and escorted them to the door.

“I hope you get her back,” the man said with sincerity in his eyes.

Alex met the man’s gaze and said, “I will.” And there was no doubt in his mind that he would. Getting Christy back was the most monumental thing he’d ever had to do, and it would take all of his skill, control, and discipline to accomplish the task. But he would master all three because at that very moment he could not imagine his life without the woman he loved in it.

After the couple left, Alex was suddenly filled with a new burst of energy. He couldn’t depend on the local authorities to help him, so he began making plans to go in and rescue Christy. Besides, he worked best alone. He knew he needed to wait until night, when everything was dark and the chance of being seen would decrease.

Alex didn’t know who this sheik was but planned to snatch Christy back from beneath the man’s arrogant nose.

Houston, Texas

“Remington, read Daddy’s lips. It’s bedtime.”

The two-and-a-half-year-old little girl with sea green eyes and a mop of golden-bronze curls on her head glared at her father, stuck out her bottom lip, and said, “No. I don’t want to go to bed.”

Clayton inhaled deeply. He didn’t have to wonder where his daughter got her temperament. She was a clone of her mother in both looks and attitude. He inhaled again as he glanced at his watch. Syneda had called an hour ago and said she was on her way home after a long day in court. Since the day care that kept Remington was located in the Madaris Building, he had brought his daughter home, fed her dinner, given her a bath, and put her PJs on her. It was past nine o’clock and he had promised Syneda he would have Remington in bed even if she didn’t go to sleep. Their daughter tended to be a real grouch in the mornings without her proper rest—another thing she had inherited from her mother.

“I want ice cream.”

Clayton lifted his brow. “Don’t hold your breath for that one, kiddo,” he said, thinking of how he’d been told when he had picked her up that once again she had spent most of her day in “time-out.”

He picked her up into his arms. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, sweetheart, but there won’t be any ice cream for you tonight or any night until you learn not to argue so much with the other children.” He sighed, knowing she had inherited her argumentative nature from both him and Syneda.

He sat down on the sofa with Remington cuddled in his lap. He cherished this child who was a product of his and Syneda’s deep love for each other. He knew they had spoiled her rotten, but the way they saw it, she was theirs to spoil. Besides, he knew when to get firm with her. “Do you want Daddy to read you a story?”

She shook her head. “No. I want Daddy to give me ice cream.”

He was about to tell his daughter once again that she wouldn’t be getting any ice cream when he heard the sound of the front door opening and closing.

A smile touched his lips. “Mommy’s home.”

“Mommy!”

Before he could catch her quick enough, Remington had scattered out of his lap and raced out of the living room toward the front door.

A smile captured Syneda’s lips as she took her daughter into her arms. Clayton thought Remington favored her, but Syneda knew that except for her daughter’s hair, eyes, and skin coloring, she looked like her father. She had Clayton’s nose, forehead, and mouth. “Where’s Daddy, sweetheart?” Syneda glanced around knowing he wasn’t far.

When he walked into the room from around the corner her breath caught as their eyes met. She wondered if it would always be this way with them—that instant surge of stimulating sexual chemistry that enticed them to tear each other’s clothes off no matter where they were or, better yet, sneak off someplace private and just get it on.

“Hi,” she said, finding it almost hard to swallow as she watched him lean against the staircase. Another thing that amazed her was how much her husband still attracted her. He had changed out of the business suit he had worn to the office and was dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. In her book he was one good-looking man with a body that he definitely kept in shape. It always made her feel good to know that she was the one he had chosen to love unconditionally and spend the rest of his life with.

“Hi, sweetheart, how did things go in court?” he asked.

She beamed. “I won!”

He returned her smile and crossed the room to her. Angling his face around their daughter, he kissed his wife, immediately feeling desire flow through all parts of his body. Moments later he reluctantly pulled back and held her gaze and whispered, “I know a wonderful way we can celebrate after we put Remington to bed.”

“I don’t want to go to bed, Daddy.”

Clayton smiled as he tousled his daughter’s curls. “Sorry, sweetheart, but the sooner I can you get you in your bed, the sooner I can get your mother in mine.”

He took Remington out of Syneda’s arms and kissed her little rounded cheek. When she had been born the media had tagged her the
Remington Princess
, since millionaire oil magnate S. T. Remington was her grandfather and S.T. had been quick to let everyone know that he intended for his granddaughter to run Remington Oil one day.

An hour or so later, Clayton lay in bed and watched as Syneda disrobed. Remington had finally gone to sleep. His heart began pounding when he saw what Syneda had changed into after her bath—a very skimpy nightgown. She turned to him and smiled, placing her hands on her very shapely hips. “I’ve been thinking, Clayton.”

He nodded. Yeah, he’d been thinking, too. Just the thought of making love to her was causing his body to throb. “What about?” he asked when all he wanted to know was how soon she was going to get into bed with him.

“I want to celebrate today’s win in court. I mean really celebrate. I’ve been so busy working on that case and now that it’s over I need a break. I think it would be a wonderful idea if we took off next week.”

“Take off to where?” he asked when at the moment his total concentration was on the fullness of her breasts as she slowly lowered her nightgown.

“Clayton . . .”

He blinked and quickly glanced up at her face. “Huh?”

“Are you listening? I said I want to go somewhere special to celebrate for an entire week.”

Clayton swallowed deeply, fighting the urge to get out of the bed and drag her into it. “An entire week? What about Remington?”

Syneda smiled. She’d known he would ask that. “Dad has been anxious to have her stay at his ranch with him again, and I think it would be a perfect time for her to do so. And you know how much Remington adores Dad’s housekeeper, Emilie. She’ll be there to help him take care of her. I talked to Dad on the cell phone on my way home and he loves the idea.”

Clayton frowned. “Yeah, and when we pick her up she’ll be spoiled rotten.”

Syneda grinned as she walked over to the bed, naked. “She’s already spoiled rotten.”

She stood next to the bed and gazed down at him. “I thought we could really make it special if we took a trip to Saint Augustine Beach, Florida, where it all began for us.”

Clayton couldn’t help but remember that time. They had gone on vacation together as friends and eventually had become lovers. “Saint Augustine Beach?”

“Yes. Just think, one week alone, just the two of us.”

He
was
thinking. He then remembered he had another trip planned for next week. “Oops, I almost forgot,” he said disappointedly. “Justin, Dex, and I have a trip planned for next week. There’s a business matter we need to check on.”

Syneda nodded, knowing full well just what business matter he was talking about. She lowered her lashes. “Oh, I understand. I just thought it would be nice for us to spend some time together. Maybe we can do it some other time.”

Clayton inhaled deeply. He knew she was disappointed. Hell, he wanted to go to Florida as much as she did. They hadn’t taken a trip anywhere alone since Remington had been born. They loved their daughter, but every once in a while parents needed playtime, too. And as far as his trip with Justin and Dex to check on Christy went, he would have to bail out and check out things with her another time.

He reached out and tumbled Syneda down into the bed with him. “Make plans for us to go to Florida,” he whispered against her lips.

A huge smile touched both corners of her mouth. “Really? You mean it?” she asked excitedly.

He loved making his woman happy. “Yes, I mean it,” he said, smiling.

She began raining kisses all over his face and throat. “Thank you, Clayton,” she said softly as her hand moved seductively over the solid muscles of his chest.

He pulled her into his arms, straddling her body over his. “I can think of another way you can thank me, sweetheart.”

She quirked a brow and looked down at him. “Would you like to demonstrate?”

He laughed throatily as he cupped her face into his hands. “With pleasure,” he whispered just seconds before he gave her a long kiss, which was only a prelude to what else he had in mind.

Christy’s gaze narrowed speculatively at the outfit Hajji had placed on the bed. “Surely I’m not expected to wear this,” she said, picking up the garment, whose material was pretty much on the thin and flimsy side. She had to admit it was beautiful, but she could picture herself playing the starring role on
I Dream of Jeannie
while wearing it.

“You don’t like it?”

Christy turned, not wanting to hurt the woman’s feelings, but it was hardly a practical outfit that she could escape in. “Yes, I like it,” she said, “but I prefer wearing my own things. If you will bring my luggage then I will—”

“Sheik Valdemon has put your things away and says while you’re a guest we will provide everything for you.”

Christy sighed deeply. It was hard to appreciate kindness from the man who planned to induct her into his harem. She wrapped the bathrobe she was wearing tightly around her and dropped into a nearby chair.

She had just taken a bath in the biggest tub she had ever seen. To her amazement, the bathroom had a one-way wall-to-wall window that looked out at the ocean. Although Christy could see out, no one could see in, which had been a good thing, since she had stayed in the tub for more than an hour. Part of that time she had relaxed her body deep in the bubbly waters to ease out her aches. The rest of the time she had stood by the window looking out, taking stock of her surroundings and trying to figure out an escape route. All she saw was water. Although she was a good swimmer, the thought of diving into a shark-infested ocean was a definite turnoff.