Losing Control - By Robyn Grady Page 0,44

that complemented her skin tone. Her gaze was bright but also very much back to reserved. He stabbed the redial key. He didn't have time for holding hands now.

"There's been another attempt on my father's life."

Her breath caught. "That can't be."

"I'll get Brandon front and center on the case straightaway," he said to himself, fast dialing then grabbing his bag off the floor, dumping it on rumpled sheets then striding into the bathroom to collect his gear, all with the cell pressed to his ear.

For God's sake, pick up!

"Does that mean that other man, the man who died, wasn't responsible?" she asked. "Or that he wasn't working - "

"How the hell should I know?"

Storming out from the bathroom, he was confronted by Taryn's wounded gaze. Oh, hell. He so didn't need this right now. Neither did he want to act like a brute.

He left a quick urgent message for Brandon then took one step toward her. "Look, I'm sorry. It's just..." He shut his eyes and cursed at himself. "I should never have left."

"What could you have done?"

"What I should have done from the start. Taken charge. And to hell if someone didn't like it."

"Meaning your father."

"Meaning anyone on God's green earth."

He shoved his toothbrush and aftershave in his bag then drove a hand in to drag out a clean pair of trousers.

"You're leaving?" she asked.

"Soon as I can."

"There's no connecting flight out until this afternoon."

"Then I'll organize a private flight."

He stepped into his chinos. Pulled out a tee. He heard her question as if from afar.

"Cole, what happened?"

"Two men clubbed my father. When a bystander rushed up to help, they almost managed to shove Tate into their van. I would never have forgiven myself if..."

His stomach pitched. Dammit, he wanted to hit something. Break it in two and hit it again.

"Cole, this isn't your fault."

"Someone else started this, but, by God, I'll finish it."

Driving the shirt on over his head, he noticed Taryn at the wardrobe, dragging out her own bag. He frowned.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going with you."

"This isn't your fight."

"You need someone with you."

"I've never needed anyone."

"Everyone needs someone, Cole."

Something shifted deep inside of him, but he pushed it aside and reminded her, "That volcano's expecting you and your camera."

"Guess the volcano will have to wait."

"But this survey, your show - "

"Are important. But this takes priority."

He held her gaze then, remembering the clock was ticking, he turned to find his shoes.

She went over and held his hand. When he met her gaze again, she asked, "Is your dad okay?"

After a tense moment, he blew out a breath.

"He's at home, resting."

"And Tate?"

With his free hand, Cole held his throbbing head. "There are some crazy sons of bitches out there. People who don't have a moment's hesitation in hurting someone who can't defend themselves. Tate's all right. I'm going to make sure he stays that way."

"What is it you think they want?"

"Always comes down to money, doesn't it?"

"A ransom. But I thought these were attempts on your father's life. A ransom demand's no good if you don't have a bargaining chip."

His stomach tightened before it rolled over twice. He murmured, "I have this horrible feeling..."

"What?"

"That Eloise is connected to this in some way."

"Guthrie's wife? Trying to kill him? Why on earth would she want to do that? He must treat her like a queen."

"Women like Eloise are never satisfied." He remembered the way she'd come on to him - Guthrie's oldest son - whenever they were alone, and the sick feeling in his stomach grew ten times worse. He grabbed his cell again.

"I need to make a couple of phone calls. To organize that private flight first off..."

"And the second call?"

"Jeremy Judge." He scowled. "I'm looking forward to firing his ass."
Chapter Fifteen

What had gotten into her?

How had she ever summoned the nerve to tell Cole that not only was she leaving on that private flight off the island with him, but she was also tagging along when he confronted his family about these ongoing attempts on his father's life?

Now, hours later, Cole pulled his car up in front of the Hunter mansion. Taryn told herself again: there was no reason for her being here, other than the one she'd already given. After the intimate time they'd shared, brief though it had been, she cared about him. She cared about Guthrie and little Tate, too. She wanted to help if she could, even if help only meant offering her support.

Call her curious, but she also wanted to meet Eloise