Iris Johansen - Deadlock

"The hell you're not." His hands clamped down on her shoulders, his eyes glittering down at her. "I'm not giving Staunton anything more that belongs to me. He's taken too much already."

"Let me go," she said through clenched teeth.

"I'll let you go to get dressed and pack a bag."

"Let her go, Garrett," Irana said. "Force isn't going to make her give in to you. You'd know that if you were thinking straight." She paused. "What did this Staunton take from you?"

"It doesn't matter." His hands loosened, then dropped away from Emily. "Let's just say that Staunton has managed to make this into a very personal vendetta."

"How do you know he's on his way?"

"He called me for a reason, and he kept me on the phone until he managed to track my location. I thought he might be doing it, but I couldn't hang up. He wanted me to think he was still in Afghanistan, but it could have been a trick. I'm not taking a chance."

"Why couldn't you hang up?" Emily asked. "Or did you really want to draw him here just as much as I do."

"What do you want me to say? Yes, I want him. But that's not the reason I didn't hang up. Now get dressed."

She stared at him for a moment, then turned on her heel, strode into the bathroom, and slammed the door.

She gazed at her reflection in the mirror over the sink. She didn't look afraid, she thought dully. But the fear was there, and she felt a little sick. She had noticed a difference in Garrett from the moment he woke her. The volatile sensuality she had seen in him earlier in the evening was no longer there. The sharp-edged deadliness she sensed in him had never disturbed her, but she had been aware of a rage that had not been present before. There had been an explosive aura surrounding him that had shocked her.

Something had changed.

Everything had changed. Staunton was coming. It was going to begin again.

No, it wasn't. She wouldn't let it. She had to put an end to it. She had to put an end to Staunton.

"SHE MAY NOT GO WITH YOU," Irana said. "You went about it the wrong way."

"I don't have time to be diplomatic."

"Obviously." She searched his face. "You're hurting. How can I help?"

"You can get on that boat and get the hell off the island."

"You think that my patients are in danger?"

"I think that Staunton is a crazy, sadistic bastard and that he likes to set examples. He wants Emily, and he's already proved he'll savage anyone who gets in his way." Garrett checked his watch. "I don't know how much time we have. I know I'm not handling this well, but trust me, will you? Just get down to the dock and get on that boat."

"Maybe I could persuade Emily to go on the boat with me. I could tell her I need her to help with the patients."

He shook his head. "I need her with me. She's the target. The rest of us are just means to an end." He frowned. "And she's taking too long in there." He strode toward the door and knocked on it. "Emily."

No answer.

"Shit!" He threw open the door. Empty.

A small open window with curtains billowing in the breeze.

"Dammit, I'm an idiot." He turned on his heel. "I should have known that she'd-what does she know about the island? Where could she hide, Irana?"

"Just the beach." Irana frowned, trying to think. "The hospital. The lighthouse. I'll go with you."

"No, I'll find her. You get on that boat."

Irana slowly nodded. "That's my job right now. My patients and my nurses. I'll go check and make sure everyone is out of the hospital."

"Dardon will have seen-" It wasn't any use arguing with her. Irana would do what she thought she should do. "Just get to the dock as soon as you can. I'll call Dardon and tell him you're coming."

He strode out of the cottage and gazed at the moon-dappled beach.

Emily couldn't have more than a few minutes' head start, but she wasn't in sight.

He doubted she would go to the hospital. She wasn't sure that Irana might not go back there, and she would want no interference. He started up the beach toward the lighthouse.

"WE SHOULD BE IN ATHENS in thirty minutes," Dardon said, when Garrett picked up more than an hour later. "Any sign of Emily?"

"Hell, no," Garrett said. "She wasn't at the lighthouse, and I searched every vacant cottage along the beach. Then I doubled back and searched the hospital from top to bottom. This place is as twisted as a rabbit warren."

"You sound a bit tense. It could be okay. We don't know for sure that Staunton is on his way there."

"I'm sure enough. I'd better be. Irana will draw and quarter me if we moved all her patients for no reason."

"Well, you may have more time than you think."

"And I may have less. My guess is that Staunton was at a jumping-off place that would let him get to anywhere in the least amount of time. Look, I can't talk any longer. I have to find her. I'll call you when I have her off the island." He hung up the phone.

Where the hell was she?

He strode out of the hospital and stood staring in frustration at the beach.

Where next? He doubted if she would leave this area she knew to seek help from any strangers who lived on the island. Emily wasn't hiding from anyone but him, and she wouldn't want interference. She was on the attack.

He stiffened as the thought sank home.

Attack.

Then why had he assumed she'd be here on the beach? She wouldn't be cowering helplessly waiting for Staunton to find her. She'd go where she'd think Staunton would go.

His gaze lifted to his own house gleaming ivory in the moonlit hills above him.

The place where Staunton would go.

Yes.

He started at a run up the path toward the house.

He was halfway up the path when he heard the sound of a helicop¬ter in the distance. Large aircraft. Low, over the water, coming from the east.

Shit.

FROM WHERE SHE STOOD ON the balcony of Garrett's house Emily could see the blue lights of the helicopter spearing down into the sea as it approached the island.

The muscles of her stomach clenched. Don't be sick. Take a deep breath.

"We have to get out of here. Staunton will here within ten minutes."

She whirled to see Garrett coming toward her. His expression…

She instinctively lifted the gun in her hand.

"I see you found my private arsenal. You had plenty of time while I was running all over the beach trying to find you."

"I needed a weapon. You had enough guns in that box in the closet to arm a battalion."

"I like to be prepared. Sometimes one gun isn't enough."

"I thought you would. You're that kind of man."

"The kind of man I am is mad as hell at the moment." "Too bad." She moistened her lips. "You were trying to stop me." "You're damn right. I told you, it's not the time. Now give me that gun."

She didn't move.

"Give it to me, Emily. I have to get you out of here." "No. He'll be here soon."

"That's right, and by the sound of that copter, it's big enough for him to bring fifteen or twenty close friends. I think it's a Superhawk. He's probably hoping for a quick cleanup before he snatches you away." His lips tightened. "He's not going to get it. He's not getting anything he wants." He took a step closer. "Because we're going to be out of here before he touches down."

She stepped back. "You go. I'll wait for him."

He held out his hand. "Give me the gun. You're not going to shoot me.

"I might." She tried to keep her tone cool. "I'd only hope to wound you, but I know how much firepower this gun has. I'd keep your dis¬tance."

"It's a Magnum, and a bullet would do considerable damage. So you won't chance it. I'm not your enemy." "Then stay and help me.

"That's what I'm trying to do." His gaze searched her face. "But I'm not going to be able to convince you, am I?" He shrugged and turned away. "Have it your own way. I did my best to-" He sud¬denly whirled and the edge of his hand came down on her wrist, send¬ing the gun flying.