CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Stephanie’s grip on the knife was tight enough her hand started sweating, yet she couldn’t force her fingers to turn it loose.  It wasn’t easy staying hidden, not when she wanted to be with Etienne.  But she knew he’d been trained by the military, and knew what he was doing.  Knew how to be stealthy and cautious, neither of which were her strong suits.  She was more apt to stumble smack dab into a band of armed mercenaries before she even made it past the back door. 

It seemed like Etienne had been gone forever.  An eternity.  In reality, it was probably only five minutes, but her mind kept playing through all the scenarios of what might happen and each one was worse than the one before. 

“Please be safe,” she whispered, her eyes glued to the base of the house, where he’d disappeared.  She hated to think what might be under there, knew she’d have nightmares about crawling around beneath the house, yet he’d dove under there without even hesitating. 

The back door was flung open, and a man walked out, the strap of an automatic weapon looped over his shoulder.  She shrank back into the foliage, using some of the bigger leaves and vines for coverage, and squatted low, making herself a less obvious target.  It almost felt like a physical blow when his gaze stopped precisely where she hid, and he stared long and hard at the exact spot.  The bottom fell out of her stomach when he took a couple of steps toward her, and she nearly screamed when a large bird flew out of the canopy and swooped toward the blue sky. 

The man gave a laugh before turning toward the corner of the house and unzipping his pants, and she squeezed her eyes shut.  Seriously, didn’t the house have at least one indoor bathroom? 

Finishing his business, the guy zipped up and began doing a perimeter sweep, walking around the back of the house. 

Her heart leapt into the back of her throat when the man stopped and pulled the weapon from his shoulder, clasping it with both hands, and she knew—he’d spotted Etienne. 

Head and shoulders free of the house, he was clearly visible to her, and to the guard, who stood with his back to her, though she could imagine the ugly smirk on his face. 

She had to do something.  Couldn’t just stand here useless, not with Etienne in danger.  Scanning the jungle floor around her feet, she spotted several fallen branches.  Tucking the knife into her waistband, she hefted one and took a practice swing.  Too flimsy.  Tossing it aside, she grabbed another.  This one was thick and heavy.  Almost too weighty to manage, but she’d make it work. 

Using every bit of stealth Andrea had drilled into her head, she tiptoed across the open yard. 

“Man, it’s not what you think,” Etienne’s voice carried across the space separating them, clear enough she wondered why more men weren’t streaming out the front and back doors.  Just a few more feet and she’d be directly behind the guard. 

“You no talk.  Come out.”  The guard’s heavily accepted English was barely understandable, but his tone was loud and clear.  Etienne was about to be shot. 

Only a foot of space separated her from the man threatening Etienne, and she knew if she moved any closer, he’d hear her.  She only had one shot at this, so she needed to make it a doozy. 

Swinging the branch with every bit of strength she possessed, she heard the loud thunk as it hit the side and back of the man’s skull.  He wobbled on his feet for a moment, and spun toward her, taking a step forward before his eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed to the ground.

“Damn, sweetheart, that’s some arm you’ve got.”  Etienne finished crawling out from beneath the edge of the house, and stared at the downed guard. 

“Girls fast-pitch softball.”

“We’ve gotta go.  Nobody but hostiles inside, from what I can tell.”  Grabbing up the unconscious guard’s gun in one hand, he caught her arm in his other, and tugged her back into the rainforest and away from the house at a rapid jog.

After a few minutes, he slowed and finally stopped, and she drew in several deep breaths.  “Who were those guys?” 

“Probably from the town.  Prescott’s offering a hefty reward for your return.” 

“Damn Gareth.  He’s never going to stop.” 

“Wrong.  Help is on the way, if it’s not already here.  Samuel and the team should be landing.  If the Riverton SEAL team gets back, they’ll be showing up too, no doubt.” 

“I can’t help thinking about Tabby.  She’s still back at the villa.  Gareth won’t have a problem using her to get what he wants.” 

Having experienced Gareth Prescott’s twisted, perverse tastes firsthand, she hated to think of a sweet, vivacious person like Tabby being in his despicable clutches.  It was unfathomable that he’d somehow gotten out of prison and out of the United States.  If he managed that, who knew what else he was capable of? 

“Tabby’s going to be fine.  Bas and Roberts have to be at the villa, since they weren’t at his house.  I think at this point, we need to figure out a way to get into town without being seen.” 

He took a step forward and pulled her against his chest, and she melted against his hard strength.  This nightmare wasn’t over yet, but within his embrace, she felt safe in a way she’d never felt.  Wouldn’t it be wonderful to stay like this forever? 

“We need to get to a phone somehow.”  He pressed a kiss against the top of her head.  “Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out.” 

“I trust you, Etienne.” 

“That’s because you’ve always been a foolish girl, Jasmine.”  Gareth Prescott stepped from behind Etienne, a pistol in his unwavering grip.  Several mercenaries stepped from the dense underbrush, each with their guns pointed at Etienne. 

“Looks like we’re right back where we started.”  Etienne squeezed her hand, offering silent comfort. 

“Not quite,” Gareth taunted.  “Mr. Roberts and Mr. Boudreau have been captured as well.  It looks like you’re out of options.”  The grin he shot her reminded Stephanie of a shark, all teeth ready to chomp on its latest victim. 

She hated to admit it, but they were screwed.