* * *
Dirk was standing by the window in his study, hands in his pockets, staring out at the harbor, when a knock sounded on the door. He ignored it at first, lost in memories of how Linden and Laurel were both so fascinated by the constant stream of ships in the harbor—modern-day tankers and ancient pirate ships alike. How they both loved watching as twilight moved into evening and the lights on the buildings across the way on Hong Kong Island flickered to life one by one—a kaleidoscope of colors—until the harbor was one big light show reflected in the fast-moving water.
When the knocking on the door continued, he breathed deeply, girding himself for a conversation he didn’t want to have, and called out, “It’s open.”
He knew it was Mei-li before she said a word. No way would anyone else dare intrude, not when he’d made it very clear he wanted to be alone. He didn’t turn around, just continued staring out the window, but he forced himself to say in as reasonable a tone as he could muster, “What is it, Mei-li?”
The door clicked shut as she closed it behind her. “I’m sorry.”
“For what? You didn’t do anything.”
“Yes I did. I’m the one who insisted you needed photos of Linden and Laurel so we could to try to obtain their GPS coordinates from the photos...and to prove your daughters are still alive.” There were shades of meaning in her voice. “But I shouldn’t have let you see it. I should have known...”
Dirk’s lips tightened. “You couldn’t have stopped me from looking.”
“You’re my client. It’s my job to protect you from the emotional trauma something like this was bound to bring.”
That made him turn and face her. “Is that what I am? A client?”
She nodded slowly, her face expressionless. Then she blinked twice and shook her head. “And something more. I don’t know what that is...and I’m not sure I want to know. But I’d be lying if I said otherwise.” She drew a sharp breath and let it out in a rush. “I know I told you earlier I have a hard time maintaining an emotional distance from my clients, which is true. And yes, I’ve experienced something similar to what you’re going through. But I haven’t lost a child, much less two. I can’t even begin to fathom what that’s like.”
It’s like someone reached into my chest and ripped my heart out. He couldn’t say those words out loud—he could barely think them in his mind. “I thought I’d experienced the worst that could ever happen to me when I lost Bree,” he said, ruthlessly suppressing his memories of that day, hanging on to his composure by a thread. “But this is worse.”
She stood with her back to the door, literally only a few feet away from him, but in reality across a yawning gulf. “How can I help?”
Their gazes locked and held, and in her eyes he saw the memory of that morning, when holding each other—kissing, caressing—had kept the darkness at bay for him. But that wasn’t what he wanted...for her. He didn’t want to use her to block out the nightmare he was living through, didn’t want to use her to forget—if only for a few brief moments—that he was as powerless where his daughters were concerned as he’d been when Bree died.
“Just keep doing what you’re doing,” he told her, his voice husky with repressed emotion. “Just keep doing your job to the best of your ability—and your best has been pretty damn impressive so far.” She started to speak but he cut her off. “And don’t worry about tiptoeing around my feelings.” His face hardened. “Let me deal with my own guilt. You just do whatever you need to do find my daughters. That’s all that matters—bringing them back alive.”
* * *
Patrick and all three bodyguards left as soon as dinner was over—Patrick for home, the bodyguards for their hotel a few blocks away. Dirk had already called the banker and made arrangements to pick up the money as soon as the bank opened for business the next day.
“The bank opens at nine. I’ll be here by eight,” Patrick assured him.
“Ditto,” Rafe said before either Mike or Chet could volunteer. “No way you want to be carrying a million dollars around town without protection.”
“You’ll need more than one bodyguard with that much cash,” Mike threw in, “so I’ll be here by eight, too.”
Vanessa excused herself to go to her room, saying she was worn-out and needed an early night, and Dirk noticed Chet’s eyes following her departure before he left himself. There was no reason why the two couldn’t be romantically involved with one another. But if one is working with the kidnappers, he reasoned, the other has to be.