The Billionaires: The Bosses (Lover's Triangle 2)

Lily threw her hands up in the air in frustration. “We have to do something! Christian.” She clasped his hands firmly. “Go get her. Worst-case scenario, I’ll fill in until she arrives. I can warm up the crowd. We can stall for a half hour or so. There are margaritas to pour and I’ll play hostess while Rory and his chef whip up an appetizer.”

“With what excess stock? We’re cooking specific items here,” Rory gruffly told her.

“We’ll have the resort send down ingredients. We’re using their beach—I’m sure they’d love additional promo.”

Rory raked a hand through his hair. Shook his head. “No. I’m not going to be able to concentrate until I know where Bayli is and that she’s safe.” To Christian, he said, “I’ll go with you to the house. Lily, cancel today’s taping. We’ll do it tomorrow. Offer some sort of incentive for everyone to come back.”

He was on the move, and Christian knew there was no stopping him. He was hot on Rory’s heels.

Christian didn’t bother with the driver, just grabbed the keys from him and slid behind the wheel. He and Rory tore out of the parking lot and wound up the hill.

Rory said, “Maybe she just got cold feet and went for a walk to clear her head.”

“You didn’t see her the past few days. She was perfectly at ease in front of the cameras—no cold feet there. She was laughing, making fun of herself when warranted, talking about the region as though

she’d lived here her entire life. Bayli’s sensational in this role.”

“Then where the hell is she?” Rory demanded in an edgy voice.

Clearly, neither of them wanted to consider the possibility that her stalker might have actually followed her to Mexico. But after the break-in and the box of spiders … anything was possible.

They passed through both sets of gates and Christian jerked the SUV to a stop in front of the house and jumped out. He and Rory raced into the foyer, where they found the driver they had hired for Bayli.

He said, “There’s no one in this house but me. I just covered the entire lawn. She’s not out there, either.”

That was not an acceptable answer for Christian or Rory. They took off in separate directions to comb every square foot of the house, calling out Bayli’s name. Rory started downstairs. Christian took the suspended steps two at a time to the mezzanine. He checked all the nooks and crannies and then searched the bedrooms and bathrooms. No Bayli.

“Goddamn it!” he hollered just as Rory stormed in.

“No sign of her. At all,” Rory said in agitation.

Christian’s gaze swept the master suite where they’d met up. His eyes fixated on the closed blackout drapes that kept the powerful sun from turning the room into a sauna. Bayli wasn’t a sun worshiper in this kind of heat; she’d told him so herself. But what if she’d gone out for a few minutes to work on her tan and had fallen asleep?

He strode to the doors and reached around the curtain to pull on the handle. It didn’t budge. The door was locked, so that answered his question. She wasn’t outside. Except … she wasn’t anywhere else, either.

With a forceful gesture he shoved back the drapes.

“What the fuck?” Rory mumbled as he stared out the tall windows. Toward the Jacuzzi tub. And the lounge chair cushion covering one end of it.

“The wind didn’t do that,” Christian said. “There is no wind today.”

He flipped the latch on the handle and slid back the door. He and Rory dashed across the balcony. Rory tossed off the top cushion.

“Bayli!” Christian yelled out. She was in her nightgown, curled in the fetal position.

Her eyelids fluttered open, but she appeared to have difficulty focusing on him and Rory. She weakly said, “Finally, someone found me.”

Christian scooped her into his arms and carried her inside. Rory closed the door behind them and stalked toward the thermostat.

“Wait, no,” Christian said. “Don’t make it any colder in here. She’s going to have to acclimate as it is.” To Bayli, he asked, “How long were you out there?”

“No idea.” Her voice was but a mere wisp of dry, crackling air.

Christian told Rory, “Get a glass of water from the tap.”

“Why not a bottle of cold water from the fridge?”

“Because it’s not good for her insides when her internal temperature is so damn high.”