Lena still hadn't found her voice. He watched her suck in a staggering breath when Cassidy ran to the other side of the vehicle and jumped in beside Emil.
Nash opened the passenger-side door. Lena didn't move, so he gripped her waist and brought his lips to her ear. "Get in. It's going to be okay. I promise."
She didn't respond, but she climbed into the passenger seat. He slammed her door, then jogged to the driver's side. Seconds later, he was driving them out of the parking lot.What in the world just happened?
He eyed Emil in the rearview mirror. He had a dozen questions. But for now, he felt it best to stick to their roles.
"Sir, do you need a hospital?"
"What?"
"You're bleeding, sir. Do you want me to take you to a hospital?"
"No. No. Just straight to the house."
"Yes, sir."
"I . . ." Emil turned to Cassidy. "Am I bleeding?"
"Yes, on your head! Oh, baby, are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere else?"
Cassidy was still the doting girlfriend. Or pretending to be. Or something. Nash still wasn't sure what was going on.
He noticed Jason and Knox tailing them when they pulled onto the main road. They'd reposition near Emil's house. Which was good. Because he had no idea what they were about to face.
He glanced at Lena as much as he dared all the way to Emil's house. At first, she twisted in her seat and stared at Cassidy, silent tears streaming down her face. Then she turned her body forward and rode the rest of the way with a hand over her mouth—either to hold in her sobs or to keep herself from screaming at Cassidy. Or Emil. Or both.
The situation demanded that he devise a plan for how to proceed when they arrived. And to be prepared for anything. But the urge to reach for Lena's hand interrupted his thoughts. Repeatedly.
He nearly surrendered to the impulse three times during the short drive to Emil's house.
By the time they reached the estate, thankfully, Lena appeared notably stronger.
"Pull up to the front door," Emil commanded.
Nash bypassed the detached garage and parked as close to the front door as possible. Without a word to anyone, Emil flew out of the car and up the front steps. He punched in the security code, threw the door open, and disappeared into the house.
Cassidy followed close behind him, practically carrying Lena with her. Or maybe Lena was clinging to her. He couldn't tell which. The women had fused together, and he didn't want to take the time to point out the logic in having Lena go lock herself in her room. So they all three followed Emil.
He burst into his office, stomped straight to the safe, dialed in the code, and swung open the door.
Emil stared into the safe. The empty safe stared back.
He uttered several expletives and kicked his desk.
"Sir," said Nash.
"I've been robbed!" Emil bellowed. He pointed a finger at Nash. "Don't call the police. I'll handle it."
He dropped his hand, closed his eyes, and groaned. "I need to think." He leaned on his desk with both palms.
"Emil, what is going on?" Cassidy asked.
His eyes popped open. He looked at her with so much surprise Nash was sure he'd forgotten she and Lena were in the room. His expression softened with a mask of compassion.
"Oh, sweetheart," Emil said. "I'm sorry about all of this. Mr. Stone here can take you back up to the yacht. I'm sure everything is safe now."
Something skittered across his face and disappeared. Actually, he turned to Nash. "Take Cassidy and Miss . . . Miss . . ." He tossed his hand toward Lena, unable to conjure up her name. "Take them both back to the yacht. It'll be safer there. They can get cleaned up. I'm sure the guests have left, so there's plenty of food and champagne. I have some things to attend to here. I'll call you later."
