Baddest Bad Boys(88)

Max’s hand tightened on the phone. “Don’t count on it. Put Gerard back on.” Gerard came back on the line in an instant. “She’s hiding something,” Max went on. “She didn’t even bother protesting her innocence. Call your sources, see what they can dig up fast on Bridgette. Then put some pressure on her, see if you can get any information.”

“You got it.”

“I’m almost at the waterfront now. Call me if you learn anything.”

Max disconnected. He couldn’t imagine what Ellie must be thinking right now. First Bridgette shows up again after Max swore the island was safe. Then Gerard waltzes in. That Gerard was just doing his job probably hadn’t registered, since Max had led Ellie to believe they were alone on the island.

He thought about the legal documents she’d given him last night. He’d just opened the envelope a short time ago at the attorney’s office, so they could void the agreement. He’d been flabbergasted to find that she’d signed over Stefan’s shares of DSI. You’ve always deserved to own the whole company. Even Stefan said so, she had written in her note.

Damn it, he should have been honest from the beginning. As soon as he caught up with Ellie, he was going to tell her everything.

The boat driver got Ellie to the mainland in record time. She paid in cash and disembarked. The walkways were crowded. An arts and crafts show was set up, live music filled the air. People were everywhere. Tugging her briefcase strap onto her shoulder, Ellie made a beeline forward and grabbed a cab that had just swung up to unload passengers.

“The Marriott,” she said as they pulled away. It was the first place that came to mind, and if they didn’t have a room, she’d go elsewhere.

Right now all she wanted was to be alone, to nurse the ache in her heart and to find a place to lick her wounds in private. She’d calmed down a bit on the boat ride. Bridgette’s arrival on the island, while a nuisance, wasn’t the reason Ellie had left. Seeing Gerard there was.

The fact that Max hadn’t told her about Gerard said it all. Their time on the island was just about the deal. God, what had made her think things would be different this time around? She hadn’t been able to hold Max’s attention seven years ago. And nothing had changed.

To her relief, the Marriott had a room. She handed the desk clerk her credit card.

“Do you need assistance with your bags?” he asked.

“The airline lost my luggage.” A small lie that avoided questions.

He nodded sympathetically. “We have a complimentary kit just for such occasions. Toothbrush, hairbrush, that sort of thing. I’ll have one sent to your room.”

The elevator seemed to take forever to reach the seventh floor. Once inside her room, she left the curtains drawn and stretched out on the bed. Her head ached and a lump the size of Texas was lodged in her throat.

The simple answer was: get over it. Move on. Something she should have done long before.

So be it. But first, she was going to do what she should have done seven years ago: Tell Max off. For then…For now…

Pushing up, she picked up the phone and punched in his number. There was a delay before it started to ring.

A knocking sounded at her door. She frowned as a voice called out, “Room service.” Then she recalled the desk clerk’s promise to send up extra toiletries. She quickly hung up the phone. Waiting to call Max when she wasn’t so upset was probably wise.

“I’m coming,” she called out as the knocking repeated. She grabbed a few bills from her wallet and checked the peephole. The bellman had knelt to tie a shoelace. Beside him on the floor was a paper bag.

She released the safety chain and flipped the dead bolt lock. “Here you go.” She opened the door and held out the tip.

The man was wearing a black ski mask now. He wasn’t a bellman.

“Hello, Ella-baby.”

She tried to shove the door shut, but the man had already pushed into the threshold. She opened her mouth to scream, but the man punched the heel of his palm into the center of her chest, knocking her backwards.

Ellie hit the floor, pain splintering up her spine. She tried to roll to her side, to get away, but the man fell on top of her.

“Easy, now. Don’t fight me,” he said.

“Get off me!” She bucked against his heavier weight and managed to free one arm. She made a fist and hit him as hard as she could in the nose.

He swore, enraged, then hiked his knee up sharply between her legs, catching her pubic bone. She screamed as his fist swung up.

Everything slowed. Her life, her regrets flashed before her eyes as the man’s punch exploded solidly against her chin.

Max found the boat, but had already missed Ellie. The boat’s driver recalled her getting into a taxicab, making Max wonder if she had gone to the airport. It would make sense that she’d want to leave, to go home. He’d already tried her cell phone, but Gerard answered. She’d left her phone on the island.

Hailing another cab, Max headed to the airport. The Charleston terminal wasn’t that big. Chances were good he’d find her there. His cell phone rang, but had stopped by the time he withdrew it. Missed call, the display read.

He quickly checked the call log, and was surprised to see Marriott. On a hunch, he hit Redial and asked for Ellie DeLuca’s room.

“We don’t have a guest registered under that name, sir.”