start all over again. He wanted to put his hands back on her, and while he was doing that, he wanted to be buried deep inside her body, his mouth on hers, swallowing those sexy little panting cries she made as she came-

“Noah?” Shayne said.

“Yeah.” He tore his eyes off Bailey and her body. “I flew commercial.”

“Oh, Christ. You’re in deep.” This was also said with disbelief. “You’ve fallen and can’t get up.”

“Shayne-”

“Maddie said you were in love with her, but-”

“Maddie needs to mind her own damn business.”

“We are her business,” Shayne said.

Noah pinched the bridge of his nose. “Is there a point to this?”

“Sure.”

“Are you planning to get to it anytime soon?”

“Look, man. I know she means something to you. That’s new.”

Noah didn’t say anything to that. Yeah, she meant something to him.

Everything.

And yeah, it was new. Not to mention a little unsettling.

“You’re going to see if you can find the money and get those guys off her butt.”

“Yes.”

A sigh sounded through the phone. “Maddie’s going to give you a whole ration of shit.”

“No, she won’t. She thinks it’s romantic. Stupid, but romantic.”

He got another long-suffering sigh. “You’re making the rest of us look bad, dude.”

“Got to go.”

“Fine, but given the situation, you’re going to get yourself in more hot water, right?”

Yeah. Of that much, at least, he was quite certain.

“Give me your location. I’ll fly down there and provide the getaway.”

“You don’t have to-”

“No shit, Sherlock. Location.”

Noah knew it wasn’t just the getaway. Both he and Shayne knew that being here was a problem for him. And then there was the commercial airline factor. If he could get out of the return flight…“Meet us back at the Baja airport in a few hours.”

“Done.”

Still debating with himself over whether having Shayne come was a good idea or a bad one, Noah shut his phone.

Bailey directed him along the main drag. It was only early afternoon, but the heat beat down on them as they drove, the Pacific Ocean tumbling the shores on the right, the hotels and resorts lining the beach.

“It’s up ahead,” Bailey told him. “Turn right here.”

Instead, he drove right by the construction site.

“Noah?”

“Hang on.” He turned into the next property, which was, surprise surprise, yet another hotel. He drove along the far side of the parking lot until he found a vacant space, and pulled in.

They had a perfect view of Alan’s resort. The Fun and Sun’s lot was still unpaved, and opened to the hotel itself, which competed for attention with the two hotels it was sandwiched by.

The site was far messier and more disorganized than either Mammoth or Catalina, with equipment and huge piles of materials like brick and mortar lying everywhere.

But there was no doubt, the place had that same deserted feel as the others.

“I don’t see anything,” Bailey said. “No cars, no movement.”

“Which, as we’ve discovered the hard way, means nothing.”

Yeah, Noah was quite certain of two things as he sat there in the Blazer next to Bailey and surveyed the situation. One, the money hadn’t yet been found.

And two, they weren’t alone. “I’m assuming there’s a suite here where Alan stayed, just like the others.”

“Yes.” Bailey eyed the buildings, which had been designed and built in a slow-arching half circle around a natural bay, only feet from the waves.

The hotel itself was one building, with a series of bungalows, all undoubtedly pricey and absolutely showy, and all clearly designed for the Hollywood celebrity crowd.

“One of those bungalows was built as a prototype, to show off during tours while construction went on.” Her voice changed, almost indelibly so, but he knew her now, and he heard it.

A new tension.

“This way,” she said before he could figure out what exactly was wrong. She got out of the Blazer.

He followed, and ignoring the sun, the heat, the salty air, hooked a hand around her elbow and pulled her back around.

She avoided looking at him.

Ah, hell. “What is it?”

She merely pulled free and turned her back on him, and a full five-alarm raced up his spine.

She was omitting again, which didn’t bode well.

Chapter 22

“Bailey,” Noah said quite calmly to her back. “What’s wrong?”

What was wrong? Was he kidding? Bailey whirled around to face him. “You mean other than my life is in shreds, and that I have guys with guns after me, and oh, yes, let’s not forget the fact that my brother is very likely a lying, thief bastard to match my dead husband and father.”

“Yes,” he said without giving in to her. “Besides all that.” He caught up to her, and in a gesture she hadn’t expected but should have, one that tugged hard at her poor heart, he took her hand and looked right into her eyes. “Something else is getting to you.”

She turned away and studied the resort. How did he see everything?

“Have you been here before?”

Ha! If he only knew. She’d honeymooned here. “You might say so,” she managed, her gaze on the bungalows lining the beach.

“Might you say exactly?”

Shrugging out of his grip, she began walking toward the beach. He followed her. Of course he followed her, but he was a smart man and didn’t say a word. She had no idea where he’d learned such a useful tactic, holding his tongue so effectively, so that the silence filled the air, her head, and drove her absolutely insane with the urge to fill it, but he could teach government officials volumes on how to get information out of the bad guys. “I honeymooned here,” she finally admitted, and glanced up at him. “And when I say I, I mean me, myself, and the television set. Alan got called away the moment we arrived.”

“So Alan was an even bigger idiot than I gave him credit for.”

They walked closer, and she had to admit, looking up as they moved into the shadow of the building, the place had a certain charm. If one was into ostentatious, over-the-top expensive beach resorts.

They bypassed the large hotel and moved toward the bungalows, specifically Alan’s.

Oddly enough, the door wasn’t locked. They pushed it open, and could immediately see why. The place had been pillaged and pilfered through. Tiles missing, trim gone, door handles, even whole windows…The finished suite was no longer “finished.”

They stood in the middle of the main room, which had once held gleaming wood floors and beautiful furniture, but was now empty. “The local builders must have used this place as a freebie,” Bailey said in disbelief.

Noah was looking around, quiet, alert, braced for trouble.

“I don’t think it’s here, Noah.”

“Yeah. You know, I’m beginning to think it was never here.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense to take

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