Chapter 15
For Logan, the next days were characterised by frustration. Every enquiry they made produced the same result—a big, fat nothing. Even though British guests at the resort were few and far between, every member of staff whom he’d approached had claimed they couldn’t remember ever having seen Diana and her boyfriend. The level of consistency in the negative responses was troubling.
Added to which, they’d ended up spending a not inconsiderable amount of time in the company of Dante, Sasha and Jed. He had to admit, Lucy’s instincts were spot-on. The trio had been a mine of information about the resort, and enabled him to dismiss a significant number of lines of enquiry.
In need of a break from contemplating his next steps, he turned his attention to Lucy, curled at his side, her hand resting on his chest. She was dead to the world. Though all she’d done during the day was follow his instructions by attending the first of her spa appointments and lounging by the pool, she’d looked a heartbeat away from falling asleep over dinner.
On their return to the bungalow, he’d happily steered her in the direction of the bed, where she’d given in to exhaustion within minutes of him joining her. She’d been facing away from him, but as soon as the bed gave, she’d rolled over and cuddled close. He liked the feeling it gave him. He also liked having his arms around her, knowing she trusted him to protect her.
Most of all, though, he liked being in love with her.
“So what’s on your mind?”
The soft, sleepy voice went straight to his cock. So much for her being out for the count. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”
He expected her to draw away from him, but she nestled closer. “You didn’t.” She yawned. “Sorry I fell asleep on you. I just needed a power nap.”
She’d napped for a good couple of hours. Logan was glad she couldn’t see him smile at her claim. “You can fall asleep on me any time, babe.”
“So what’s bothering you? And please don’t say nothing—honesty cuts both ways,”
She had him there. “We’re running out of time. Eliminating possibilities from our enquiries is one thing, but that doesn’t give us any positive leads. It’s giving me a bad feeling. It’s not that long ago—someone should have remembered them, even if only vaguely. From the reaction I’ve been getting, it’s almost as if they were never here.”
Lucy shifted her position so she was lying more or less on top of him. Great. Now his dick was about to sit up and beg for attention.
“Stupid question, but—do we know for certain they did actually come here? Maybe they claimed to be here as a joke or something.”
“No, they were here. You know the fountain in the main courtyard? It’s in the background of the photo I’ve been showing around.”
Diana had posted a handful of shots on social media, which they’d downloaded and printed prior to their departure.
“Then maybe we need to try something different—like me asking questions. No, hear me out… please. A lot of the staff here—probably most of the therapists, I would imagine—are female, and quite young. Forgive me for saying so, Sir, but you can be a little… intimidating.”
It went with the territory. He was a Royal Marine and a Dom—intimidating was in his DNA. Still, she had a point. “Go on.”
“I have an appointment for a massage tomorrow. The therapist I’m seeing only started recently, so I’ve been told. If there is something going on, and if she treated Diana, it’s possible that she’s not a part of the conspiracy. She might, in all innocence, spill something the others won’t. It has to be worth a try.”
Though he was reluctant to admit it, what Lucy said made sense. And if they were to get anywhere with this investigation, he might just have to agree with her suggestion. Hell, the damn woman would probably go ahead anyway, and age him another decade in the process.
“Okay—do it. But don’t take any unnecessary risks. If you have any reservations, do not, under any circumstances, proceed. We’ll work something out.”
~~*~~
Lucy nuzzled the muscular chest an inch or so from her nose, and inhaled deeply. What a wonderful way to start the day—warm, sexy male, with a hint of fresh sweat and sexual satisfaction. He always smelled so damn good. She’d make a fortune, if only she could work out how to bottle that scent. Then again, that would mean sharing, and there was no way she was doing that with this delectable piece of male real estate.
“You awake?”
She loved the gravelly sound of his voice when he woke from sleep. “Uh-huh. Getting there. What time is it?”
Plastered to his side as she was, Lucy moved with him as he reached for his watch on the nightstand.
“We’ve got a good couple of hours before you need to report to the spa—plenty of time to get cleaned up for breakfast. Shower?”
Lucy groaned. While she enjoyed sharing the luxurious bathroom with Logan, right now, the bed was a far greater lure. “Can’t I stay with you a little while longer?”
Odd, how his breath hitched. “You can stay with me for as long as you like, princess.”
He hadn’t called her that since the yacht, so why now? Should she read more into his statement than at first appeared?
“Hey, it’s ‘babe’ here, remember?” She forced a light-heartedness she didn’t feel into her tone as she swung away from Logan and planted her feet on the floor. “Why don’t you stay here, while I get cleaned up?”
She leaned down and dropped a playful kiss on his nose, before offering him her cuffed wrists. After the chat they’d had the previous evening, about how to progress the investigation, they’d both been in the mood for a little playtime. The scene involving cuffs had ended with Logan deep inside her, and the last thing she’d asked him was to leave the cuffs on for a while. “A while” had turned out to be all night.
“I know I could take these off myself, but that doesn’t seem…”
“Right?”
Lucy watched him unbuckle the cuffs, loving the way his fingers dealt so deftly with the silver buckles. She was mesmerised by the play of muscles in his forearms, the texture of his skin, and the light roughness of that scattering of dark hair. Those arms belonged to a man she could rely on, a man who made her feel safe when she was with him.
“Sure you don’t want company?”
“I want company, but I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t be a good idea—not if we’re going to make it to breakfast before they stop serving.” The man would distract her for hours, if she’d let him.
“Okay. I’ll take the bathroom when you’re done.”
Without Logan diverting her attention away from the task at hand, Lucy’s shower was over in minutes. While he took care of business, she dressed quickly and dug out the tablet. Time to take another look at the private area of the resort’s website, see if there was anything they’d missed.
The pictures in the private gallery were explicit, to say the least. A mix of guest photos and those taken by the official photographer she’d seen wandering around the resort, they left little to nothing to the imagination.
Some of them featured staff members, but it was in the gallery of spa photos where Lucy found an image that had her doing a double take. “Logan!”
“What is it? You okay? Where’s the fire?”
He had one towel wrapped around his hips, while he was drying his hair with a second. Lucy gave herself a brief, stern, silent talking-to about lust at inopportune moments, then pointed at the tablet. “Look. I can’t remember seeing this one before. They must have only just uploaded it.”
The image showed Diana with one of the therapists from the spa. Diana’s name wasn't mentioned, but the beautician’s was—Tani. The name rang a very loud bell.
“We need to talk to this woman.” Logan sat down beside her. “Is there any way—”
“That’s just it.” Lucy brought up her schedule of appointments on the tablet. “She’s the one I told you about. The one who hasn’t worked here long. This is proof that she met Diana. She must remember having this photo taken!”
“Possibly—if she doesn’t have her picture taken with every guest she treats. Are there any more with Diana?”
Lucy swiped through a couple more, then stopped at another featuring a couple of naked strangers. “The background—there. Couldn’t that be her and her boyfriend?”
“It’s possible, they’re the right colouring. Looks like they were arguing, whoever they are.”
Even with the sharpest definition, the couple’s expressions wouldn’t be discernible, but their body language said it all. The woman appeared to be pointing her finger, while both of them were leaning forward, getting in each other’s faces.
“I’ll take Diana’s photo with me,” Lucy said. “If I mention to Tani that I saw her on the website with my friend, she can’t deny it. If only we could print that!”
“Whoa. Hold it right here. A general enquiry is one thing—confrontation’s a different matter entirely. Leave that to me.”
“But it’s a golden opportunity! It might be the best chance we have. If it’s just me, she might be more inclined to open up.”
“Yes, and she could also call an accomplice in, and whatever happened to Diana could happen to you! That’s not happening, Lucy, not on my watch.”
That he was so desperate to protect her was humbling. Then the implication of his words sank into her consciousness. “You do think something bad’s happened to them, don’t you?”
~~*~~
It all boiled down to his gut, and his gut was churning up an industrial-sized portion of suspicion that all was not right in paradise.
A knock at the bungalow door was an unexpected interruption. Logan gestured to Lucy to remain quiet. Uncaring of the fact that he was wearing a towel and nothing else, he went to the door. “Who is it?”
“Please, Master Lucan, it’s Sasha. I’m so sorry to disturb you but I need to speak to Lisa, if I may, Sir?
Lucy was equally puzzled. Logan shrugged, and opened the door to see a clearly distressed Sasha standing there. Her eyes were red, and her clasped hands fidgeted in agitation.
“I think you’d better come in.” He stood back, to allow her to enter.
“Thank you, Master Logan.”
“What is it, Sasha? Are you okay?” Lucy rose from her seat on the sofa, to wrap a comforting arm around the other woman’s shoulders. “Come and sit down. Would you like a drink? Tea? Coffee? Juice? We have a couple of different kinds.”
Sasha cast a nervous look in Logan’s direction.
“It’s all right, you’re among friends here. Where are Jed and Master Dante? Do you need me to find them for you?”
“They’re water-skiing together. If I could just have a glass of water, please—I’ll be fine.”
Logan brought the water, while Lucy led Sasha to the sofa. “I’ll be right back.”
A few minutes later, now fully dressed, he returned to see Lucy sitting beside a quietly sobbing Sasha, rubbing her back and holding her hand to comfort her. Crumpled tissues sat beside the box on the coffee table. His woman looked up at him, her expression troubled.
“I think you’d better hear this, Sir.”
Bearing in mind Lucy’s comment about how intimidating he could be, Logan took a seat on the other sofa and tried to look as non-threatening as possible. “What’s happened, Sasha? Tell me.”
She took another sip of water. Whatever it was, it bothered her so much, her hands were trembling enough to make the surface of the liquid ripple. “When Jed and Master went off for their skiing session, Master gave me permission to do whatever I wanted, so I thought I’d call a friend of mine. She was here a couple of weeks ago with her Dom. It was her first visit, and I wanted to see what she thought, and if she’d enjoyed it.
“She didn’t answer my calls. I tried her mobile phone and her landline, but there was no reply on either, which was odd, because she’s such a homebody. I just had a nagging feeling, so I called a mutual friend, to make sure she was okay, and he hasn’t heard from her either, not since before she left to come here. So I tried her Dom. I don’t know him well, but I have his number for emergencies—he didn’t answer either. She told me once he’s often away on business, though, and I don’t have his mobile number.”
“That doesn’t necessarily mean there’s a problem, Sasha. It could just be that your friend decided to do something like visit family and forgot to take her phone with her.”
Or the battery ran out, or the phone was broken or lost—all the possibilities they’d considered to explain Diana’s disappearance.
“I know that, Sir. I know I’m probably worrying for nothing, and there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation, but talking to Lisa yesterday got me wondering if maybe there’s a connection between her friend’s disappearance and mine. I mean, what if something has happened to both of them? I’m worried, Sir. I don’t know what to do for the best.”
Interesting. He’d take up the whole discussing-the-mission-with-an-outsider thing with Lucy later—the more pressing matter was dealing with Sasha’s distress. “You’ve done the right thing, coming to us. I’m going to need your friend’s details—full name, address, all her phone numbers. There are people I can call who can check up on her officially. Her Dom too, if you tell me what you know about him.”
“It’s all right, Sasha. You’ve trusted us with your worries, you can trust us with the information,” Lucy added. “Sir knows what he’s doing.”
The churning in Logan’s gut went into overdrive. Coincidences like this one set all his senses tingling, and not in a good way. If there was a connection between the disappearances of Diana and her boyfriend, and Sasha’s friend and possibly her Dom as well, experience told him that Nenufar was more likely to be the front for some sort of illegal activity. Had they witnessed something they shouldn’t have? Or was the reason something even darker?
Lucy passed Sasha a pen and a sheet of paper. While she was busy writing, he exchanged a glance with Lucy. If he was reading her expression correctly, there was a good chance her instincts were telling her the same thing his were telling him.
“Sasha, how much do you know about your friend’s relationship with her Dom? Do you know if they get on all right, or do they argue a lot?”
“I… don’t really… I mean, I’ve never seen them row, but…”
“Go on. Whatever you can tell us, it all helps.”
“Yes, Sir. She told me once that their relationship can be quite volatile, but not to the point where he’d truly hurt her. They do argue—what couple doesn’t?—but they always make up.”
“What are you thinking, Sir?”
That was his woman all over—calm and purposeful, even when under pressure.
“I don’t know yet.” The idea sloshing around at the back of his mind was half-arsed and barely formed. He was probably grasping at straws, the connection was tenuous at best, and relied on at least one monumental what-if.
He took the paper from Sasha, and gave it a quick once-over. The names weren’t familiar, not that he’d expected them to be. “Thank you for this. Try not to worry—I’m sure they’re perfectly fine, and the lack of a response can be explained very easily.”
“Should I tell Jed and Master about this?”
“I think it’d be a good idea to let them know you’re worried about your friend, and if Dante wants to talk to me, please let him know he can contact me at any time.” Logan dug out a business card in the name of his undercover identity, complete with the number of the burner phone he was using for the assignment. “Would you like to stay here with us until they get back?”
Lucy pressed another tissue into Sasha’s hands. “You’d be very welcome.”
“No, it’s all right, but thank you. They’ll be back soon. I’m sorry I bothered you both with this. To be honest, I feel quite foolish now. Perhaps I have overreacted.”
“I’m sorry our conversation put you in this position,” Lucy said.
“No, it’s okay. Better for me to look like an idiot than for something horrible to have happened to them and no one raise the alarm. But if something has happened, at least we can start doing something about it.”
“As I said, you’ve done the right thing. Leave it with us, we’ll find out what’s going on. Would you like us to walk you back to your accommodation?”
“No, it’s fine, thank you.” She gave them both a wan smile. “Believe it or not, I do feel better, now that I’ve told you. Before I go, though, could I ask you both something, please?”
“Of course.” Though he agreed, Logan was wary.
“Who are you? Really? You’re not just ordinary guests, are you?”
Rumbled—but only if they admitted it. “Sasha, my name’s Simpson, not Bond, and Lisa is definitely not Miss Moneypenny. We’re no different from you, Jed and your Master. We just happen to know people who can ask the right questions. Which means you now know people who know people who can ask the right questions. Okay?”
“Ah. Whatever you say, Sir. And thank you.”
Logan saw her to the door and watched her make her way back to the hotel until she was out of sight.
“Phew, that was close.”
“Not really.” Logan closed the door. “No matter what I said, she’ll believe what she wants to believe, but even if she had the resources to dig into our identities, all she’d find is what we’d want her to find.”
He turned to Lucy. “Now I believe you and I have something to discuss.”
“We do?”
She could play the innocent all she liked—he wasn’t about to let her get away with this. “Why she came to us. The conversation you had yesterday. Care to explain?”
“Ah.” Lucy clasped her hands behind her back and gave him a rather awkward look. “I didn’t exactly plan to tell Sasha about the mission, and I didn’t tell her who we really are, I just thought if I told her I had a friend who’d gone missing—What are you going to do?”
He knew what she really meant, and he wasn’t falling for her diversionary tactics. “In a few minutes, I’ll send these details to London, and let HQ see what they can uncover. If we get good news back, we can let Sasha know there’s no need to worry.”
“In a few minutes? Why not now?”
“Why not now? Because I think a little discipline is called for, don’t you?”