Crazy Ever After (27 page)

Despair swamped her, making her throat ache, and the hot tears spilled out of her eyes. She sniffled, hoping Travis wouldn’t notice, but of course his gaze snapped to her face. His eyes narrowed as he took in her tears.

“Shit, Samara, don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry. I never cry. Well, hardly ever.” She couldn’t wipe her face, and the wetness on her cheeks annoyed her. She sniffed again then lifted her chin and met his gaze head on.

“Travis.” Her voice came out sounding thick.

“Yeah?”

“If we make it out of here...” She swallowed. “If we make it out of here, I’ll go back to San Francisco.”

“What?” He stared at her.

A strand of her hair coming loose from her ponytail stuck on her wet cheek. Aaagh! She tried again to loosen her wrists to no avail. “You’ll be the CEO,” she continued, voice stronger. “You’re the best one to run the company, Travis. The only one. I can’t do it. Look what a mess I’ve made of things.”

Travis just kept looking at her, and his mouth softened.

“I’ll go back to San Francisco and be regional manager. I’ll keep working my way up.” A small smile tugged her mouth as she held his gaze. “Someday I’ll be back, and I’ll help run the company. But I know I have a lot to learn.”

“Samara.” His throat worked as he swallowed. “I don’t want you to go back to San Francisco.”

She blinked at him, her lower lip quivering.

* * *

Samara Hayden admitting that she’d screwed up made Travis feel like something had reached out and grabbed him by the throat. He couldn’t speak. He knew how hard it was for her to admit mistakes, how stubborn and determined she was. She’d wanted that job so badly; for her to back down now was huge. He tried to swallow, his throat feeling like dry coffee grounds.

He’d wanted the CEO job. Not that she’d been a serious threat; the entire executive team and all the shareholders were behind him, but just the fact that she was there and owned forty percent of the shares meant he had to share responsibility with her. But now he knew—he wanted to share responsibility with her. He wanted to share everything with her.

“I don’t want you to go back to San Francisco,” he said again. He shifted his weight and bounced the chair across the floor to be closer to her, stopping when they were knee to knee, face to face. This was important. They had to talk about this.

“We’ve been fighting about who’s going to take over. But it doesn’t have to be either or. Parker and I managed as a team, and you and I can do that too, Samara.”

She nodded slowly, eyes trained on his face, but said nothing.

“And not just that...I love you, Samara. I want you in my life.”

Her eyes widened, and her mouth trembled. “You do?”

“I do. I’ve always loved you. That was the other reason your father and I had a big fight seven years ago.”

Chapter Twenty

Travis met Samara’s eyes. “He knew what happened between us.”

“Uh...”

“He saw us kissing that night.”

“Oh holy mother of Godfrey.”

“Yeah. Holy shit, he was so pissed off I thought he was going to strangle me with his bare hands.”

She sucked in her bottom lip and regarded him with distress. “Oh, no. Oh, Travis. You didn’t even do anything.”

“Well.” If he could have squirmed on the chair, he would have. “I kissed you back. I did more than I should have. The only reason he didn’t kill me right then was that he saw I’d ended it, and I managed to convince him I had no intention of it ever happening again.” Except that hadn’t been entirely true, and maybe Parker had sensed that.

“Oh dear god.”

“You were only seventeen,” he said, as if she didn’t remember that. “He was your father. He was right to be angry. Christ. Imagine it¬… him discovering his business partner making out with his seventeen-year-old daughter?” He groaned.

She made a small noise. “That’s my fault too. I’m sorry, Travis. I never meant to get you into trouble like that.”

“I know. I wasn’t mad at you about it. I was angry at myself for letting it happen.”

She moved her head slowly from side to side as if trying to make sense of it all. “He never said anything to me.”

“I asked him not to. Not to embarrass you. Because, really, nothing happened. And I promised him nothing ever would.”

“Why? Why would he make you promise that?”

“You were his little girl. I’m sure he thought I was a dirty pervert. And the truth is...I was.”

She sucked in a sharp breath, staring at him with wide eyes.

“I did want you, Samara.”

Her chin slowly lowered, and she stared at him up through her lashes. “You...you did?”

“Yes. I did. I felt like a dirty old man. You were seventeen. You have no idea how sick I thought I was, lusting after a little girl.”

“Oh for Godfrey’s sake, I wasn’t that young.”

“It was wrong. I knew it. I couldn’t help it.”

“Oh, Travis.”

“I loved those dinner conversations where you’d take on your father and me, debating fair trade, talking about politics and coffee prices.” His hands strained against the bindings with the urge to touch her. “You made me laugh; you made me think. You made me hard.”

Her eyes darkened, and her lips parted.

“Sending you away that night was the hardest thing I ever did. Knowing I’d hurt you damn near killed me.” He paused. “I promised him, Samara. I promised him I’d never touch you. I’ve been going nuts with guilt about that.”

“That was a long time ago,” she whispered.

“I know. I know it’s stupid. But remember how much Parker meant to me.” His throat tightened. “He was like the father I never knew. He brought me into the business, brought me into his family. I was devastated that he was so pissed off at me. Then...I messed things up even more by suspecting him of smuggling drugs into the county. He was already furious. I’ve spent the last seven years trying to make up for that. The least I could do is keep my promise to him. But I couldn’t even do that.” He closed his eyes.

“Travis. I’m sure even Dad would admit that he couldn’t hold you to that promise now.”

“I’m not so sure.” He gave a short laugh. “But you’re right. Everything has changed. You’re a grown woman, and Parker is gone. I keep telling myself he’d want me to look after you, but that doesn’t mean having sex with you. It was just hard to set that promise aside. You know?”

“I know.” She let out a shaky breath. “I love you too, Travis. I know I was young, but I loved you so much. I thought I’d get over you when I went away to college, but as soon as I came back, I knew I never really had.” With her hands bound, she was unable to wipe the tears that ran down her face. “I thought maybe we’d get a chance now.” She swallowed, and when she spoke, her voice quivered. “After last night.”

“We will.”

There was no fucking way they were going to end things this way. Sitting there tied up, knowing these could be their last minutes on earth, had made him realize that promise to Parker, while noble at the time, was no longer valid. If they got out of there, there was no way he was giving up what he and Samara had because of that stupid promise. Parker was gone, and more importantly, Samara was a grown woman who certainly knew her own mind and made her own decisions. In the years she’d been away, she had matured, though he’d doubted it at first. In fact, he had to respect what she’d accomplished with her life, the knowledge she’d acquired. He had to admire her determination and her loyalty to the company.

They had to get out of there alive because he had to kiss her. Hold her. Jesus, they had to be together.

The way the chair had creaked when he’d slammed to the floor gave him an idea. He stood up and did it again. And again. He shuffled toward the wall, sure he felt one of the chair legs wobbling beneath him, and slammed himself into the wall over and over again.

“Travis! God, Travis!” Samara stared at him with horror.

Pain crashed through him with every blow. Christ, he’d be bruised and battered, but goddamn it, if he was alive, it was worth it. And then the chair gave way, one leg splintering with a loud crack. Sweat dripped from his brows, stung his eyes, and ran down his back. He heaved himself one more time against the wall, and the back of the chair broke. Furiously he wriggled his body so the ropes around him and the chair rose higher and then finally, thank Christ, they loosened around him as he got them off the broken chair.

Adrenaline surged through his veins like liquid heat, and he tore the ropes off his wrists and ankles with fumbling, numb fingers, ignoring the pain still battering his body.

He rushed over to Samara and scrabbled at the ropes binding her until finally she was free too. They had to get the hell out of there.

He helped her stand. She wobbled a little and clutched his damp shirt.

“Okay?” he asked, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

Distant voices carried to them over the stillness, growing louder. Shouting. Words in Spanish he didn’t know. They froze, eyes meeting in a question. What was going on out there?

“What’s happening?”

“I don’t know. I’m guessing the plane is here to be loaded up with drugs.”

“It sounds like something’s gone wrong.” A crease appeared between her eyebrows.

“Yeah. It does.”

More shouting, and the sound of pounding footsteps over the soft ground. A pop from a gun.

“Oh, god.” Samara’s voice quivered.

“Stay calm.” He was telling himself that as much as her. “It’ll be okay, Sam.”

They went over to a window and peered out but saw nothing. The noises were coming from behind the building, where the plane had landed.

“I love you,” he told her again. Not that the end was near, or anything. Just because he wanted to. “Let’s run.” He clutched her hand. “Run straight to the vehicle. Get in. Don’t look back, just run like hell. Okay?”

His gut tightened, and his heart beat in heavy thuds. He glanced at Samara. Their eyes met. He nodded and smiled.

She smiled back at him. “Okay. I love you too.”

His heart squeezed at her soft, heartfelt words. He longed to hold her, his only wish, if he was about to die, that he could hold her again. But there was no time.

They quietly opened the door, wincing as it creaked on rusty hinges. Travis poked his head out and swept his gaze over the clearing. No one there.

He stepped outside, pulling Samara with him.

“Run!” he urged in a whisper, and they both took off, feet flying over the soft ground. They were both long-legged and covered the distance easily, reaching the vehicle at the same time, Samara on the passenger side, him on the driver’s. They reached for the door handles just as a sharp voice called from behind them, “Alto! Halt!”

They both became petrified, hands on the doors. Travis’s heart slammed in his chest, his body hot. He looked up at the clear blue sky. No, god no, this couldn’t happen. They’d been so close; he was sure they’d made it.

Slowly, he looked at Samara and saw the terror in her eyes, and he knew he would die to save her life if he could. He straightened, removing his hands from the car, and holding them up, he turned.

Standing there was Javier Alvarez. And the man Samara had recognized from the hotel. And...Parker.

Chapter Twenty-one

Samara’s body went weak, and her vision darkened at the edges; the only thing she saw was her father standing there. Alive. Or was this some kind of hallucination brought on by terror? “Dad?”

“Samara.”

Travis caught her as her knees buckled, and her only thought was don’t let them shoot him, please don’t let them shoot him.

He lowered her to the ground and pushed her head down between her knees. Her ears buzzed loudly, and the voices she heard sounded very far away.

“Samara.”

“Is she okay? Dammit, Travis, what the hell...”

“What the hell? You’re asking me what the hell? Jesus Christ, Parker!”

“Don’t fight,” she mumbled, but it seemed nobody heard her. Or they ignored her. Her vision began to clear, and the noise in her ears faded. Her clothes were drenched with perspiration, and she shivered. She lifted her head.

“Are you okay? God, baby.” Travis, crouched beside her on the dirt, sat down hard, and pulled her onto his lap, tucking her head against this chest. His strong arms wrapped around her felt so good.

“Gun. Travis...”

“It’s okay. There’s no gun.” He held her like that for a moment. “It’s okay. I don’t know what the fuck is going on here, but it’s okay.”

She lifted her head to look at him, threw her arms around his neck and squeezed, her entire body wracked with trembling. They were alive.

And so was her father.

She jerked her head back and stared up at him, now standing beside them, hands on his hips, frowning at them.

Shaky, she struggled to get off Travis’s lap and to her feet, but fury surged inside her, giving her strength. Travis rose to stand behind her, his hands protectively on her waist. “Dad! What is going on! We thought you were dead!”

His frown deepened into a scowl. “Dead?” He cast a questioning glance at the man, the one who’d had the gun earlier. “You thought I was dead?”

The man from the hotel stepped forward. Samara was quick to note he no longer held his gun, although it sat in a holster on his hip.

He held out a hand. “Permit me to introduce myself. I am Carlos De Faria. DEA.”

Samara blinked but didn’t take his hand. “DEA?”

He nodded, and she finally stretched out a hand to shake his.

“I’ve been working undercover here in Matagalpa for several years.” He nodded at Parker. “Your father has been assisting us in setting up an important sting operation. We just took down a major drug cartel.” He jerked his head toward the trees and bushes behind them that hid the air strip from view. “Mr. Alvarez here has also assisted us.”

Javier’s face looked ashen, and he shook his head as if he still couldn’t believe what had happened. Raoul was nowhere in sight. Had he been one of the bad guys?