CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Miramar, Mallorca
December 4
Asoft knock preceded the door's opening, and Cam lifted his head from the intoxicating pillow to spy a young man in black trousers and a short white jacket holding a breakfast tray.
“Good morning, sir.”
Cam hadn’t been asleep, but he sat up and stretched. After leaving Gemini, he had gone straight to his room, mapping out scenarios and exploring possible ways to contact his team. More than once, his thoughts had strayed to the woman he had pulled from the ocean. Everything about her rescue had been painful and unappealing, and yet, something about her—that strange mix of feistiness and compliance made his blood pound. As quickly as the images appeared, he dismissed them. More pressing issues were at hand.
“English?” Cam questioned.
“Sí. Yes,” the boy corrected himself. “Mr. March insists on English.”
“Well, good morning then,” Cam said.
“I have the breakfast, and I will clean the room while you dress.” He gestured with his head toward the bathroom.
Cam signaled his agreement by throwing back the covers and swinging his long legs over the side of the bed. “What's your name?”
“Tomás.”
Cam rubbed a hand down his face. “You’re straightening the room? There are maids all over the place.”
Tomás busied himself, setting the tray laden with fresh fruit and pastries on a table by the doors leading out to the terrace. “Miss Gemini,” he mumbled, “she doesn’t want the women in the room.”
Cam rolled his eyes and pushed to his feet. “All right then.”
As he reached for the bathroom doors, Tomás added, “Mr. March will be ready to leave at noon. You are to meet him in the front hall.”
Without turning back, Cam acknowledged, “Thanks, Tomás.”
Cam started the shower and surveyed his surroundings. The retractable wall was closed, but he could see the pool and property beyond through the large windows. At the edge of his sightline, he could just make out the trunk of a limousine, heavy with luggage. He blew out a sigh of relief.
Gemini March was trying to master him, and her attitude strangled his arousal. For Cam, it wasn’t about dominance and submission or winning and losing. When it came to sex, he wanted a partner, not an opponent. Gemini was a competitor, and she wasn’t about to concede defeat in this war of wills. The thing she failed to realize was that Cam wasn’t even on the battlefield.
He had been granted a four-day reprieve from her seduction. When the time came, he would play his part. Until then, he had ninety-six hours to figure out if there was more going on here than an overindulged woman in need of stud services. This was the part of the world where he had last had a lead on The Conductor. Cam didn’t have the first clue where to begin, so he’d do what he always did. Pay attention.
Cam was dressed and ready when Atlas March sauntered into the front hall at ten past noon; another man, older and smartly dressed, was a half a pace behind. Atlas gave two firm claps and gestured to Cam. “Punctuality. Excellent, Miguel.”
Cam remained impassive. Working for his former employer, Dario Sava, the penalty for tardiness was a beating, usually administered by him. Men were never late twice.
“Miguel,” Atlas continued, “this is Joseph Nabeel, my second in command. You will defer to him in all matters.”
Cam gave an abrupt nod in acknowledgment.
Atlas thrust an index finger into the air. “To the car.”
Cam sat up front with the driver and observed the route as they cut across the island. The trill of a cell phone in the back of the town car broke the silence. Atlas listened to the caller and replied, “Wait until I get there.”
He ended the call and spoke to Joseph. “A woman has been poking around in the caves near the shoreline. One of the guards thinks he's spotted her little boat again.”
Atlas sent a text, then informed the driver of the change in destination, and the car continued on.
Their first stop was a low cliff overlooking a small cove about ten kilometers from the March villa. Another car pulled up behind them, and two mine security guards stepped out. Atlas exited the sedan, and Cam followed.
Atlas spoke as he walked to the overlook. “Joseph, in his infinite wisdom, has this shoreline regularly patrolled. March Mining owns the mineral rights all the way to the water. We want to guard our interests but also keep people safe. There is no limit to the dangers in those caves. Ah, Franco was right. There she is.”