Chill Read Free Page B

thoroughly eight years ago. “I’m sure I would have enjoyed her very much,” she said softly, desperate to open the door he’d suddenly cracked. “Do you miss her?”
    Marcus said nothing. He was staring down at the bracelet.
    Isabella peeked at the box. The inscription was facing up so he could read it.
    She waited, her heart hammering.
    A muscle ticked in his cheek, and he slowly traced his index finger over the words, as if breathing them in through his skin. There was pain in his brilliant blue eyes.
    Raw, emotional pain.
    The kind she had to chase down every morning when she first woke up and her defenses were down. The kind she’d sensed in him so many times but never actually seen. She lifted her hand to touch his shoulder. “Oh, Marcus—”
    He snapped the box shut and handed it back to her. “In my office. Fifteen minutes. Don’t be late.”
    Then he turned and walked away.
    Leaving the gift in her hands.
    Stunned, she stared after him as he walked up toZack and gestured toward her. Did he want her to hold on to it for him? Or was that a rejection?
    As Zack began to walk toward her, Marcus turned to look at her.
    His eyes had become icy blue. Cold. Hard. Ruthless.
    Never once had he turned that look toward her.
    Never until now.
    Dear God, what had she done?
    Luke jumped out of the plane almost before he’d stopped it. The minute he stepped out, the freezing rain pummeled him. He had to hunch his shoulders against the wind to keep from getting knocked over. The roar of the river was deafening, and the black rapids were hammering at the edge of the beach.
    Shit.
    Sam Friedman, a client Luke had been flying for eight years, grabbed Luke in a big-ass bear hug. “Jesus, I’ve never been so glad to see your ugly mug, Webber.” His face was ruddy and drenched. His gray hair was plastered to his head, and his lips were blue with cold.
    Luke managed a grim smile. “Yeah, well, don’t thank me yet.” He shot a grimace at the stack of equipment piled up on the beach. After spending twelve years as a scientist traipsing around the world doing research, Luke knew how important that equipment was to these men. But any additional weight would add distance to how long it took to get airborne.
    A plane roared overhead as Cort came in for a landing. He left maybe twelve inches of clearance between the planes. Crazy fuck. With all of Luke’s money hidden…or tied up…in their business, he hated when Cort pulled shit like that.
    Cort stopped next to Luke and leapt out. He was bundled up in rain gear, and his black hat was tight around his head. He was saturated within seconds. He didn’t bother to ride Luke’s ass for landing. Right now was about survival.
    “Can you take two?” Luke asked. The three scientists had fallen silent, as if they’d figured out their rescue didn’t mean shit until they were in the air.
    Cort glanced down the beach, and Luke could see his partner calculating the weight of the two passengers and the length of the beach, the speed of the rising waters and the odds of being able to come back in time for a second rescue. “Yeah.”
    “Then do it. I’ll take the equipment.” Luke snapped his fingers at the scientists. “Six minutes to load the plane and then we’re going airborne. If you can live without it, leave it. Every pound counts.”
    His clients were already running for their stash of equipment by the time Luke finished talking. Cort jogged over to help them while Luke jerked open the baggage compartment of his plane.
    The rain was horizontal now, slicing through his pants like thousands of miniature daggers. Hail hammered into his cheeks. Luke leapt into the plane and grabbed the first box as one of the scientists handed it up.
    The men worked in silence, hauling ass across the drenched beach.
    Luke turned down three machines he knew would drag them to their death. Too damn heavy. One he knew was worth a couple hundred grand.
    But his client had merely shot Luke a grim look