“Whew, this beach is a lot more crowded than it was earlier.” Sophie couldn’t believe how many of the sun loungers were now occupied. Admittedly, they had spent several hours in bed in their hotel suite exploring and pleasuring each other, but there were far more people on the beach in the afternoon than there had been in the morning.
The loungers were all shaded by large orange umbrellas. Without walking along the sand and checking the occupant of every lounger, it made it difficult to see who was lying on them.
“Maybe we should split up?” She glanced at Rourke from behind her sunglasses. She had also dressed in a pair of shorts and a blue vest top to keep cool, a pair of flip-flops on her bare feet. “You know what my father looks like, right?”
“I do, yes,” Rourke confirmed, similarly attired in a white T-shirt and black knee-length shorts and black trainers. “But we’re staying together,” he added firmly.
Sophie eyed him teasingly. “Because where I go, you go too?” she quoted him from earlier.
He nodded. “Because of that.” He took a firm grasp of her arm. “But also because if—when we find and confront your father, we’ll do it together.”
Sophie was grateful for his moral and physical support at the same time as she was dreading this meeting with her father. She didn’t doubt for a moment that if Haydn said this was where her father was, then this was exactly where he was. There was simply no excuse for what her father had done to her. If it wasn’t for Rourke’s and Haydn’s help, she would still be alone and searching for a way to resolve the situation, her life forfeit if she didn’t.
“Don’t think about any of that.” Rourke took her in his arms, one of his hands beneath her chin as he raised her face to his. “We’ll get through this together, Sophie,” he promised.
She was pretty sure her heart had just done a somersault in her chest just hearing Rourke use the word “together” in regard to the two of them.
Three days ago, she had still been suffering from unrequited love for one of her six employers.
Maybe so, but ten days ago, she hadn’t known her father was a thief and her life was in danger either, throwing the whole of her future into turmoil.
What did time really matter anyway? She and Rourke had known each other for three years. Things had changed drastically between them these past few days, and Sophie, for one, had no complaints about that.
Rourke’s ability for sustained lovemaking really was amazing. He was totally unselfish and focused in that lovemaking as he introduced Sophie to pleasures she hadn’t even thought of, at the same time as he encouraged her to explore and pleasure him in whatever way she chose.
Hopefully, they might be able to return to their suite and continue that exploration after they had confronted her fath—
“Sophie…?”
Sophie pulled out of Rourke’s arms to turn, eyes blazing behind her sunglasses as she glared at her father standing a few feet away. “Surprised to see me?”
He stared at her as if she were an apparition. “Good God,” he finally murmured incredulously. “It really is you.”
“You—”
“Is there a problem, Stevie baby?” A voluptuous brunette wearing only a bikini, and perhaps aged only a year or two older than Sophie, moved to stand at Stephen’s side.
Rourke mouthed Stevie baby? at Sophie.
Some of Sophie’s tension eased, and she had to hold back a smile at the ridiculousness of that name for a man who was approaching fifty. Fast approaching fifty, considering it was her father’s birthday next month.
Stephen barely glanced at the other woman. “Go back to the lounger and wait for me, Suze.”
Stevie and Suze?
As far as Sophie was concerned, this was turning into something of a farce, or a really bad television soap. “I should do as he asks,” she advised the other woman pleasantly. “Unless you want to hear some rather shocking truths about your lover.” She almost choked over using that term in regard to a woman who wasn’t much older than she was.
Obviously as well as having some sort of brain seizure to even think he could get away with stealing from Zachary Tillman, her father was going through a midlife crisis. A suspicion confirmed by the fact Sophie was pretty sure his hair was a shade darker than it normally was, with not a strand of gray in sight. He had also done some serious buffing in the gym to what had previously been a middle-age spread.
The brunette pouted. “I want to stay with you, Stevie.”
Whatever was going on with her father, Sophie had no patience for him or his too-young-for-him girlfriend. To think he had replaced her mother with this airhead was ludicrous!
“Go back to the loungers, Suzanne,” Stephen rasped. “I’ll explain everything later,” his voice gentled slightly.
The brunette gave a protesting flounce but set off down the beach anyway.
Sophie turned back to her father. “I don’t even want to know,” she told him wearily. “What I do want, what I demand”—her voice hardened—“is that you return to England and sort out this situation with Zachary Tillman. Preferably before he decides it’s time for someone to die,” she added bitterly. “Especially as that someone would appear to be me.”
Her father’s face paled beneath his tan. “Zack has spoken to you?”
Rourke pushed his sunglasses up into his hair as he stepped forward, wanting the other man to see the sincerity in his eyes. “Not only has he spoken to her, but the bastard has threatened Sophie with grievous bodily harm if you don’t return his money by the end of the week.”
Stephen’s eyes narrowed. “And who might you be?”
Rourke’s gaze easily met and held that narrowed one. “I’m Rourke Steele. My brothers and I own Steele Protectors, the company where Sophie works.” He had the satisfaction of seeing the man’s eyes widen in recognition of the name.
Rourke knew the employees of Steele Protectors, including the brothers, all had a reputation for being ruthless and getting the job done. Rourke didn’t intend for this job to be any different, even if it did involve Sophie’s father. The man didn’t deserve anything else when he had dared to put Sophie’s life in danger.
Rourke’s mouth tightened as he placed a possessive arm about Sophie’s waist and drew her against his side. “I’m also Sophie’s lover.” He heard Sophie’s sharply indrawn breath after his announcement, but he kept his narrowed and challenging gaze leveled on Stephen Hammond.
The other man looked as if he would like to say something in regard to Rourke’s last claim, but in the end, his gaze first faltered, and then dropped away completely from meeting Rourke’s. “Please believe me when I say I had absolutely no idea Tillman would come anywhere near Sophie.”
“You really aren’t that stupid not to think someone would be made to pay,” Rourke rasped. “And as Sophie hasn’t heard from you for the past week, you obviously didn’t care to find out if that someone was her.” He drew in a long, controlling breath. “So here’s what we’re going to do. We will all be leaving the island on a private jet at eight o’clock in the morning. You and the girlfriend should get to the airport by seven o’clock. Otherwise, once Sophie and I get back to England, I’m going to inform Zachary Tillman exactly where he can find you and his money.”
Hammond winced as he obviously recognized Rourke’s uncompromising tone for exactly what it was. “Suze hasn’t done anything wrong.”
“Except, apparently, having deplorable taste in men.” Rourke nodded. “But I’m also guessing she doesn’t have the funds to remain here without you?”
“No.” Hammond glanced at Sophie before looking down at the white sand at his feet. “I’m so sorry, Soph—”
“I’m no more interested in your apology than we are in your explanation,” she told him coldly. “What I want is for you to come back to England, sort out this mess with your ex-employer, and then stay the hell away from me. I might be able to forgive you for this one day, but I wouldn’t count on it!”
“Soph, please believe it was never my intention to hurt you—”
“Her name is Sophie. I suggest you use it,” Rourke bit out. “And all evidence to the contrary regarding Sophie being hurt by your actions, emotionally and physically.” He glanced down the beach to where Hammond’s girlfriend was once again lounging in the sunshine. His gaze was flinty when he turned back to the older man. “One of Tillman’s men attacked Sophie at my brother’s wedding last weekend. The man fucking attacked her, and he would have done a lot worse than that if I hadn’t stopped him.”
“Thank you—”
“I don’t want your thanks any more than Sophie wants your apology,” Rourke dismissed contemptuously.
“Mum would be so disappointed in you,” Sophie choked out.
A nerve pulsed in Hammond’s jaw. “I originally stole a couple of hundred thousand to pay for Brenda’s medical bills, Soph—ie,” he finished at Rourke’s cold glare. “Your mother was so sick at the end, and I wanted her to have the best. But by the time I had the money safely deposited, your mother was already dead, and after that, I—I just thought, fuck it, why shouldn’t I continue to take a share of Tillman’s money for myself?”
“Why shouldn’t you?” Sophie echoed incredulously. “Because that money was earned off the misfortune of women and men forced into prostitution and drugs.”
Her father winced. “I’ve barely spent any of it—”
“And when we get back to England, you’re going to give Tillman back what you have left,” she told him firmly. “Did Mum know you worked for a crook?”
“No, of course not,” Stephen hastily assured. “I never told her. I never wanted either of you to know. You have to believe I never meant for you to be harmed, Sophie,” he pleaded.
“She doesn’t have to believe a damned thing you have to say.” Rourke had heard enough. “Just be at the airport by seven o’clock in the morning ready for an eight o’clock takeoff. Sophie and I now intend to enjoy the rest of our day and evening stay here on Grand Cayman.” He didn’t wait for the other man to reply as he turned and walked away, a trembling Sophie anchored to his side.
“Okay?” he prompted huskily once they had left the beach, and her father and his girlfriend, far behind.
“I will be.” She nodded. “Do you think he’ll turn up at the airport tomorrow morning?”
“Yes.” Rourke could only hope he was proved correct.
In the meantime, he really did intend for Sophie to enjoy the rest of her stay here, short as it might be. They could always come back again one day for a proper holiday. For now, it was more important that Sophie have this heavy weight of responsibility lifted off her shoulders. Rourke had every intention of ensuring that it never returned either.
It seemed to Sophie her head had barely touched the pillow and she had fallen into a heavy sleep after dinner out at one of the many restaurants and then another mind-blowing hour of making love with Rourke. She was woken again by sounds intrusive enough to penetrate that heavy sleep.
It was a loud thundering noise which, once she’d had time to find her bearings, Sophie realized sounded like a fist landing on the main door into the hotel suite. A glance sideways showed her that Rourke was no longer in the bed beside her.
Which probably meant he had responded to that loud knocking on the door.
Sophie climbed quickly out of bed and pulled her silk robe on over her nakedness. She was still fastening the belt as she hurried down the hallway.
Rourke hadn’t even bothered to do that and stood completely naked as he threw open the door. Sophie recognized the man outside in the hallway as one of the men flanking Gregori Markovic at the plane yesterday.
“Mr. Markovic requests that you to accompany me to his villa.” The man seemed completely unaware of Rourke’s nakedness, his expression remaining as stoic and unrevealing as it had yesterday.
“Requests?” Rourke echoed slowly.
The man nodded. “A…situation has arisen which requires you to accompany me to Mr. Markovic’s villa so that you might discuss the matter further and in private.”
Sophie moved to stand at Rourke’s side. “Mr. Markovic has a home here?”
“Mr. Markovic has a home in many places,” their nocturnal visitor confirmed evenly.
“Does his invitation include me?” she persisted.
The man gave an inclination of his head. “Mr. Markovic requested that you both accompany me.”
Rourke would have preferred that Sophie remained at the hotel, where he knew she was safe, but one glance at the determined expression on her face and he knew that wasn’t going to happen. Besides which, he no longer believed she was truly safe anywhere but by his side. “Come in and wait while we get dressed.” He stepped back to allow the bigger man entry.
The other man shook his head. “I would prefer to wait outside.”
“Fine.” Rourke wasn’t in the mood to argue. If the guy wanted to stand outside in the hallway, that was fine with him. He closed the door before turning to Sophie.
“Don’t even try talking me out of coming with you and Igor,” she advised ruefully.
“Igor?” he repeated quizzically.
“Or Viktor. Or Sacha. Or maybe Anatole.” The flush Sophie could feel warming her cheeks told her—and Rourke?—she wasn’t as impervious to his nakedness as the Russian had been. “As he hasn’t ever introduce himself, I’ve given him a Russian name I think suits him.”
Rourke chuckled. “Which is Igor?”
She shrugged. “I named the other one Aleksandr. I thought those names suited them better than Tweedledum and Tweedledee.”
Rourke’s arms moved about the slenderness of her waist as he pulled her in tightly against him. He wished they had the time to satisfy the answering lust that instantly gleamed in Sophie’s expressive eyes at the feel of Rourke’s erection pressing against her stomach. As they didn’t have the time for anything else, he kissed her long and deeply instead before releasing her.
He might have been Sophie’s first lover—he would also be her last, but that was for him to tell her at another time—but she had proved today that she was more than capable of meeting his sexual demands and making a few of her own.
She was perfect for him.
They were perfect together.
Rourke intended telling Sophie he loved her, and for the two of them to start leading that perfect life together, as soon as they had this situation with her father settled and out of the way.
He kept the surprise out of his expression when the first person he saw, after he and Sophie were shown into the sitting room of Gregori’s villa, was Zachary Tillman. The other man’s wrists and ankles had been secured to what looked like a dining room chair.
Which told Rourke the arrival of this man on the island was the “situation” Gregori had referred to.