A Father's Desperate Rescue (Man on a Mission 5)

The moment she saw him standing at the bar, her body had responded to him instinctively in ways she’d almost forgotten—nipples tightening, a sudden throbbing in her loins, a breathless catch in her throat—and she’d been forced to look away from him and keep her focus on the stage. Had she been afraid that here was a man who could tear down the walls she’d built around herself after Sean died?

All at once she realized they’d been staring at each other for several minutes without saying a word. The smile had faded from Dirk’s face, and now something else was reflected there, an expression that tugged at her heart. Not desire. Not exactly. More like a need. A yearning. For warmth. For companionship. For the touch of a woman’s gentle hand.

She breathed suddenly and tore her gaze away. When she turned back the expression was gone, as if it had never been there. As if she’d imagined it. But deep in her heart she knew she hadn’t imagined it at all. And she hadn’t imagined her response, either.

“So, if you don’t use a pocket watch, how do you plan to hypnotize me?” Dirk asked. Most women would have taken his matter-of-fact tone at face value. Most women would have convinced themselves he was unmoved by the brief exchange of glances moments before. But Mei-li wasn’t most women, and she heard the slight shading to his voice that told her he wasn’t unmoved.

But if he could put that exchange behind him and act naturally, so could she. “It’s just a matter of concentration,” she explained.

“If you say so.”

“You’ve got nothing to lose and everything to gain, so just humor me.”

“Okay. Let me know when you’re ready to start.”

Mei-li smiled. “Close your eyes, please. That’s step one.”

Dirk closed his eyes, but she knew the tense way he held himself was the first barrier she had to surmount. So she began talking about herself, about growing up in Hong Kong and on location with the various movies her father had produced and directed over the years. And as she talked about these seemingly unimportant things, she saw the strain drain away from Dirk’s body, saw him relax in the chair.

He hadn’t had a lot of sleep the night before—she’d slept in his arms, so she knew. Which meant he was physically as well as emotionally exhausted. And that meant she could put him into a trance without much effort now that he’d let down his barriers.

Almost without a pause she moved to her life’s work, about the different cases she’d worked on. About the happy outcomes. “It’s always difficult for me to maintain an emotional distance from my clients,” she explained, keeping her voice low and mesmerizing. “Because I know better than most what they’re suffering. And that means I suffer along with them...every time. But it also means I rejoice with them when their loved ones are returned safe and sound.” Setting the stage. Gaining Dirk’s trust.

“I want to rejoice this time, too,” she continued, still in that same hypnotic cadence. “But I need your help. You’re the only one who can do this, Dirk, the only one who can solve the mystery by remembering what you heard. So I want you to go back to this morning, to the phone call. Walk me through it, step by step. Every word he said. Every word you said. Everything you thought. Everything you felt.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Tell me, Dirk.”

He told her. She only had to prompt him a couple of times, but for the most part he recounted the conversation nearly verbatim. At least his memory of the conversation matched almost exactly what she remembered hearing him say, so she assumed the other side was also nearly word-for-word.

“‘Before I deliver the ransom, I need proof my daughters are alive,’” Dirk said in a trancelike tone. Then his face contracted as if he were puzzled by something.

“What is it, Dirk?” Mei-li asked, forcing herself to speak calmly. “What’s wrong?”

“I hear something in the background,” he said in the same monotone voice.

Mei-li’s heart skipped a beat. “What sound?”

“It’s the Star Ferry,” he replied. “You can’t mistake that boat whistle.”

Chapter 7

“Dirk!”

The sound of his name came from very far away, distorted as if he were underwater. But then he heard, “Wake up, Dirk!” spoken with urgency, louder than before, and he knew he had to wake up now. He swam toward the surface, but it was like swimming through molasses, although he had no trouble breathing.