LITMIR.BIZ

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Fancher,” she said.

      “Yes?”

      How did everything the terrorist leader said sound like a threat? She lifted her chin and gave him a steady look.

      For some reason, he found that amusing. He chuckled. “What is Ross Fancher to you or your father?”

      “He’s assembly-line manager. He supervises the building of the boats. He just left a few minutes ago.”

      “Assembly-line manager. Interesting. Then it is fortunate that his injury has not proven fatal.”

      Alarm streaked through her like lightning. “Injury? Is he all right? We need to call a doctor.”

      Before she knew it the guard on the south side of the room was at her side, pushing the long barrel of his gun into her flesh just beneath her breast. He was shorter than her, and already heaving with exertion. His breath smelled like stale tobacco and beer.

      “I can assure you that your friend will be all right. In fact, he will be helpful to us in carrying out our plan,” Chien Fou said. “I suggest that you stay calm, Miss Hopkins.”

      “Stay calm?” She flinched as the gun barrel sank more deeply into her flesh. “You’ve taken us hostage. You’ve hurt people. Forgive me if I’m finding it a little hard to stay calm right now.”

      “Then we’ll have to find a way to help you.”

      “Leader.” Cole spoke calmly. “Maybe we should get settled for the night. There’s not much of it left, and we’ve got some hard work ahead of us.”

      “Always the level head, Cole.” Chien Fou nodded. “Abel, you—”

      Wood scraped against wood. Before Amelia could react, her father said, “Don’t move.” He stood behind his desk, his face pale, his expression a mixture of fear and determination. He gripped a semiautomatic pistol in his unsteady hands.

      “Dad, no!”

      Suddenly three deadly looking machine pistols were aimed at her dad’s chest.

      At the same time, Cole vaulted toward her father. He grabbed the gun and wrenched it away. Her dad gasped for breath. Cole pushed him down into his chair.

      Her dad’s arrhythmia medicine. Cole still had it, and it was way past time for his bedtime dose.

      “Please.” She let all her fear and worry show in her voice. “My father is just getting over the flu,” she said. “He needs his anti-flu medication. And he needs to rest.”

      Chien Fou gestured to the guard whose gun barrel was back in Amelia’s side. “Get his medicine. Bring it to me.”

      No. Just what she hoped wouldn’t happen. If Chien Fou saw her dad’s prescription bottle, he’d know he had a heart condition. She knew with intuitive certainty that the terrorist leader would have no patience with infirmity. She glanced desperately at Cole.

      Cole’s gaze slipped past her as he dug into his pocket. “Here it is. I took it when I took her cell phone.” He held it up between thumb and forefinger.

      For a second Chien Fou hesitated and a frown creased his forehead. Then he nodded. “Good. You hold on to it. If he needs it, give him one—just one.”

      “He needs it now,” Amelia insisted.

      “Yes, Leader.” Cole shook a tablet into his palm and handed it to her dad, who picked up a water glass sitting on his desk and quickly downed the pill.

      “Now, if there are no more illnesses to treat…” Chien Fou rubbed his hands together. “We need arrangements for the night. I’m ready to retire. Where shall we all sleep?”

      “There are—” Amelia’s throat fluttered with apprehension “—seven bedrooms. My father’s suite is there.” She nodded at a door beyond his office. “My rooms are on the opposite wall, beyond the stairs. There is another master suite upstairs, plus two smaller bedrooms. And a small room with its own bath behind the kitchen.”

      “Abel, you take the mayor and Mr. Hopkins to his suite. Handcuff Hopkins. Search the suite to be sure Mr. Hopkins has no more weapons. It would be regrettable if we had to use force to convince him not to play the hero.”

      Amelia stiffened. “Dad, please. Just do what they say.”

      “I’d be a whole lot more cooperative if I knew what’s going on here.”

      “Dad—”

      The guard named Abel produced a pair of handcuffs and quickly cuffed her dad, then dragged the mayor over next to him.

      “Cole,” Chien Fou said, “I want you out here, keeping an eye on everything.”

      “Ha,” the guard at Amelia’s side shouted. “That means I get to spend the night guarding the beautiful girl.” He touched her hair with one hand. “We will have fun, eh?”

      Amelia recoiled.

      Cole didn’t move, although every muscle in his body tensed in response to Habib’s implication. He had to protect Amelia.

      “Leader,” Cole said, working to keep the desperation out of his voice. “I got us into the house. You know I have not asked for favors. But do I not deserve the woman? She is well-versed in her father’s business. She will be an asset to our cause. We cannot afford to have her damaged.” He shot Habib a glare. “And we all know how enthusiastic Habib is.”

      Amelia turned her haunted honey-colored eyes to his. Her abject terror made his chest ache. She didn’t consider him any better than Habib, and he couldn’t blame her.

      Maybe once they were alone, he could prove to her that he didn’t mean her any harm. If he could convince Chien Fou to let him guard her, and if the terrorist leader wasn’t in one of his perverse moods.

      Chien Fou’s coal-black eyes studied Amelia, and a chill slithered down Cole’s spine. He’d never seen Chien Fou express any interest in a woman. It hadn’t occurred to him that the man might want Amelia for himself.

      Cole shifted cautiously onto the balls of his feet. He still held his SIG. If Chien Fou allowed Habib to have her, or took her for himself, Cole would have to stop him.

      There were some things he wouldn’t do—not even if it meant his three years under cover infiltrating the Global Freedom Front would be wasted.

      Not even if it meant his death.

      Your two worlds are about to collide and your young woman may be crushed in the collision.

      The fortune-teller’s words echoed in his ears and a faint memory of spice and roses tickled his nostrils. He shook off the distracting sense that the woman was nearby.

      Chien Fou met Cole’s gaze and for an instant, their wills locked in a silent battle.

      Cole slipped his finger into the trigger guard on his SIG.

      Then Chien Fou smiled. “Take her, Cole. You’ve earned the right.”

      He had to force himself not to slump in relief. He heard a shaky sigh from Amelia and a curse from Habib.

      “You sons of bitches!” Hopkins blurted, yanking away from Abel. “Keep your filthy hands off my daughter!”

      Abel backhanded the older man with his fist.

      He fell.

      “Dad!” Amelia lunged forward. Cole had to grab her by the waist to stop her from throwing herself at Abel.

      “Stop it—” he hissed, pinning her to his side with one arm. “Leader. We can’t afford to have Hopkins injured.”

      “Abel. Mr. Hopkins is understandably upset,” Chien Fou said evenly. “We are guests in his home. If you do not remember how to accept hospitality, I can call another guard

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