49

Leaning against the Orchid’s stern rail, Connor watched Praslin Island slowly shrink toward the darkening horizon. Mahé had long since disappeared from view, and soon they’d be leaving the territorial waters of the Seychelles for the open ocean. With his cell-phone signal down to a single bar, Connor checked in with Alpha team one last time. Charley answered in two rings.

“So how are you coping solo?” she asked.

“Fine,” replied Connor, not wanting to admit that he’d spent most of the afternoon evading Chloe’s advances. With nothing else to do on board except read, relax and sunbathe, Chloe seemed to want to let off steam by flirting with him—a fact that hadn’t gone unnoticed by her sister.

Not that Connor didn’t appreciate such attention. But he knew any such lapse of judgment would finish his role as a guardian for good and bring an end to the paid-for nursing care his mum and gran so critically needed.

“Well, Luciana’s on schedule to rendezvous with you in the Maldives,” advised Charley. “Ling’s on her way back home, but before boarding, she mentioned that you thought you’d spotted the two muggers on Praslin Island.”

“I thought so, but I was wrong,” admitted Connor.

“Well, there’s a strong chance you may have been right.”

Connor went rigid at the news. “How come?”

“The two suspects were pinged getting on a flight to Dubai the same day the Sterlings departed for their vacation. They were using false passports, so their trail went dead after that, but Dubai is a natural stopover en route to the Seychelles.”

Connor tightened his grip on the phone. So his eyes hadn’t deceived him that day.

“They seem a little persistent for muggers, and too well resourced,” Charley continued. “Because they’re heavies-for-hire, we can only assume someone has paid them to do a job on the Sterlings.”

“Who?”

“It could be any one of Mr. Sterling’s enemies. Amir’s going through his threat report to see if there are any obvious links.”

“Well, they’ve missed their opportunity here,” said Connor, watching Mahé retreat into the distance.

“Unless they were responsible for the Jet-Ski incident.”

Connor thought this over. “I don’t see how they could have gotten on board the yacht without being noticed. Brad’s run an almost constant watch since the Sterlings’ arrival.”

“Still, it’s a possibility. If they’re determined enough to follow you to the Seychelles, then they won’t be far behind in the Maldives either. So stay alert.”

“Will do,” said Connor. “I’ll contact you as soon as we reach harbor again.”

“Okay,” she replied. “And, Connor, be careful applying that suntan lotion.”

“What?”

But Charley had already ended the call.

Connor stared at his phone, unable to believe Ling had reported that incident. Now Charley had the completely wrong idea and, judging by the tone of her voice, wasn’t too happy about it. Furious with Ling, he shoved his phone into his top pocket and headed across the main deck to the salon. As he slid open the glass doors, he heard someone else on the phone.

“Anything could happen at sea. The girls are on their own. I understand your concern, Joey, but I can handle them.” Amanda turned around, brushing a lock of golden hair from her eyes, and spotted Connor. “Listen, I’d better go. Ciao.”

Switching off her pink diamond-studded phone, she perched herself on the edge of a leather couch. With the setting sun streaming through the window behind her, Amanda’s pose was straight out of a high-class fashion shoot.

“Can I help you, Connor?” she asked, dazzling him with her smile. “I was just on the phone to my agent.”

For a moment, Connor was struck dumb by her beauty. “No . . . I was simply going to make sure Chloe and Emily were okay.”

“Ah, that’s sweet,” she said, sauntering over and ruffling his hair. “But I don’t think we have anything to worry about, do you?”

Connor’s eyes followed her departing figure as she strolled out the door and disappeared on the deck.

“Careful, Connor. She’s a real siren.”

Connor spun around to discover Brad standing at the other end of the salon, a wicked grin on his face.

“A siren?” Connor queried.

“Yeah, the femme fatales of Greek mythology. Beautiful yet dangerous creatures who’d lure unwary sailors onto the rocks with their enchanting voices and looks.” He beckoned Connor over. “Speaking of danger, since Mr. Sterling’s departure with Dan, we’re a man down on the watch. And with Ling gone too, I definitely need you to keep an extra-sharp lookout while we’re at sea.”

Connor nodded. “No problem. I can take one of the shifts if you’d like.”

Brad patted him on the shoulder. “Good of you to volunteer. Since you’re so keen, you can do dawn duty, four till eight tomorrow morning.”

Connor made a face.

“I know it’s early, but ideally that slot won’t draw attention to your true role. So, best get your head down while you can, tiger.”

Wishing he hadn’t been quite so eager, Connor headed down to his cabin on the lower deck. As he passed a door to the tender garage, he thought he heard a noise. A clunk. Out of curiosity, he opened the bulkhead door and peered inside. The automatic lights were already on.

“Hello? Geoff?” he called, thinking that it might be the ship’s engineer.

But there was no response. On a quick inspection, he found the garage to be empty, save for the tender, the remaining Jet Ski and an array of diving gear. Yet Connor’s sixth sense was tingling—a sensation he wasn’t alone. Then he spotted the inflatable doughnut on the floor. It had come loose from its fixing. Connor put it back on its hook and returned to the bulkhead. Before shutting the door behind him, he took one last look around, but any feelings of being watched had vanished as quickly as they’d appeared.