Page 75 of Love in the Wild

“My boy, you forget that Jacob was my brother. Besides, you’ll need someone to watch your back.”

Thorne nodded reluctantly, but when he looked toward Isabelle, she crossed her arms. “Don’t youdareorder me to stay here.”

“Are we going on a hunting party?” Lofty asked, appearing as if out of nowhere with a billiard cue on his shoulder.

“Christ, Lofty,” Cameron yelped and shook his head. “Thought you’d gone home.”

“Home? Just passing the time in your billiard room, waiting for things to settle. But it seems like intrigue is afoot. Nothing I enjoy more.” Lofty’s tone then grew serious. “Jacob was my friend, and I’m a damned good shot, especially with a rifle.” He patted his slightly rotund stomach. “Don’t let this fool you. I can keep up, old boy.”

“Whoever is coming, we leave soon,” Thorne replied, and he headed to his room to pack his things. Once inside the room, he stood still for a moment, feeling the bedchamber’s emptiness and the fear that Eden’s kidnapping had left behind.

Thorne curled his hands into fists. His father’s ring felt cold and hard, echoing the fury he would unleash upon Holt when next they met. The others could come if they wished, but this was not their fight. He alone would find Holt and kill him.

18

Eden struggled through a tangle of blurry nightmares of a man grabbing her in the darkness before she woke up. The last thing she remembered was that awful man on the plane, the Frenchman, jabbing her again with another drug-filled needle just before they landed. No doubt he wanted to keep her subdued, confused, and weak.The bastard.She blinked, her eyes dry, her lips chapped, and her muscles stiff as she tried to move. Her blue silk gown slid against soft leather, and she realized she was lying upon a couch.

She was in a huge office with a mahogany desk and expensive-looking oil paintings on the walls. A large stuffed gorilla stood in a corner. Its menacing pose could have been mistaken as threatening, but she saw only a poor creature, afraid, defensive ... dead.

Its glass eyes were reddish-brown, meant to mimic the animal’s natural eyes if it had been alive, but the sheen on them only emphasized just how dead the poor creature was. Eden repressed a shudder as she sat up and dropped her feet to the ground.

A soft clicking sound and the feel of cold metal against her wrist made her look down at her hands. She was handcuffed. The metal chain between the cuffs was attached to the leg of the leather couch. She tried to lift the leg of the couch to free herself, but the sudden movement swamped her with dizziness and her vision cartwheeled.

Clutching the armrest, she waited for the sense of vertigo to fade. The door to the room opened, and a tall broad-shouldered man stepped inside. He wore no suit, only a black shirt and khaki cargo pants, but she recognized him as the man Thorne had attacked at the party. Archibald Holt. He held a stack of clothes, which he tossed onto the couch. He then removed the key from his pocket and came over toward her.

“Try anything and I will break your jaw.” His blunt, emotionless warning sent shivers through her. Eden was not a fool. She would wait. There would be a moment to fight or flee, and she would not miss it.

The man, Holt, unlocked the handcuffs, and she rubbed the reddened skin where the metal had chaffed her. She reached for the clothes left for her on the couch. He did not leave the room and give her privacy, but instead walked over to the tall windows and opened the shutters. Early-morning light broke through the panes, whitewashing the dark, lush office. Holt crossed his strong arms over his chest, exuding an air of barely leashed menace.

Eden quickly stripped out of the dress and put on the khaki shorts and T-shirt, then sat on the couch to pull on the socks and hiking boots. They were all her size. Something about that bothered her. It went to show that he could plan ahead, even when he was being “impulsive,” as his lackey had put it.

“You need Thorne, don’t you? That’s why I’m here.”

“Clever creature, aren’t you?” His false praise was layered with sarcasm as he faced her. His jaw was purple where Thorne had landed a blow. There was a feral beauty to him, she had to admit, but rather than attract her, it frightened her. He was perhaps in his early forties, which meant he had been barely twenty or so when he’d killed Thorne’s parents.

“You can’t find the treasure cave from twenty years ago, but you think Thorne can?”

“I’m counting on it. You have only yourself to blame for being involved, you know. Though you never mentioned the cave directly in your interviews, you left more than enough clues for me to surmise that Thorne had indeed found it.”

Eden didn’t admit that she and Cameron had specifically planned for her interviews to draw Holt out into the open. She just hadn’t expected him to come out so soon.

“Is that why you came to the party?”

“Certainly not. I had hoped to curry favor with Lord Somerset, to assure him that I was in a unique position to help his crusade to protect the jungle, and to get Thorne to willingly act as a guide.” He snorted and touched his jaw. “When it became clear that would never work, I had to improvise. Which brings us here.”

“Why do you need him as a guide? The Frenchman said you can’t find the cave anymore. Is that true?”

A tic worked in Holt’s jaw. “I found that cave the first time I entered the jungle. It ... called to me. I took all that I could, along with my men. But we left so much behind.” He suddenly pulled out a stone from his pocket. “This was my first conquest, a diamond large enough to choke an ostrich.” His fingers curled possessively around the diamond. “When I went back a second time, I couldn’t find the cave. I kept going in circles. No matter what direction I started in, I always found myself at the same waterfall over and over. But it sounds like Thorne knows the way and has been there more than once.”

“So what happens once he shows you the cave? You’ll just kill us and leave us in the jungle? That’s what your man who kidnapped me said you’d do.”

Holt’s pale-blue eyes sharpened. “Jean has a loose tongue. I shall keep that in mind. People in my employ are valued for their ability to hold their tongues.”

“Cameron and Isabelle—?”

“They’ll be joining you in the jungle. They insisted on coming with the boy, naturally. It will make it so much easier. Accidents occur all the time in the forest, and there’s always a new band of rebels somewhere to throw blame at.” Holt picked up a light khaki vest from the back of his chair and put it on. He slipped the diamond inside and patted the breast pocket as if to make sure it was there.

“You think no one will question your involvement? People saw Thorne attack you at the party. Someone will make the connection.”

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