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He laughed, and rubbed the back of her neck with his palm. “Yeah, you would have made a great nurse.” When she was breathing normally, he hid the boat in the bushes again and then helped her up. “Can you walk?”
She looked offended. “Of course I can walk.” She glanced at his upper arm, the shirtsleeve soaked with blood, and started to go faint on him again.
“Come on,” he said, leading her through the brush, using his uninjured arm to guide her. They had to bush-whack for a ways through the brush before they hit the trail, skirting around the swamp and unstable ground.
“Watch out. There are parts of this island that are like quicksand,” he told her. “You wander in there and you’re never coming out again.”
He was glad to see that the tide was coming in, the waves washing away any sign of their footprints in the sand. Soon the small beach would be covered in water.
He’d had time to think about the attack at Everglades City. Whoever had seen them leave the island had to have contacted someone onshore. First the security guard at the storage facility. Then the shooter.
What bothered him was that the two incidents didn’t seem connected. The guard hadn’t seemed alarmed. He might have just been checking things after being called about a possible break-in.
The shooter was a whole other story. He’d tried to kill them both. One of Zeke’s friends from the force? Definitely someone who didn’t give a damn about the disk—and just wanted Landry dead.
Landry was sure he’d been the target. Willa’s mistake was being with him. And here he’d thought he could protect her. The way things were going, he would get her killed.
But the painting was on its way. All they had to do was wait for Bull to bring it to them then get off this island. He thought about the person he and Willa had seen watching them leave the island. Was it possible they’d been followed?
He hadn’t heard another boat but no reason to take a chance. On the way back to the villa, he took a detour. “Stay here,” he whispered, and sneaked down to the old fi
sherman’s dock and checked the boat motor. Ice-cold. The boat hadn’t been out.
“What?” Willa said when he returned and they were headed for the villa again.
“Is there another boat on the island that you know of because that one hasn’t been anywhere,” he said.
She shook her head. “You think the person who saw us leave somehow contacted whoever was shooting at us? But there is no cell phone service out here.”
He smiled. “Exactly. That’s what makes me think there’s a boat we don’t know about.”
The villa was silent as they slipped through the archway and made their way up to her apartment. Once inside, Landry locked the door.
Willa looked beat and worse there was something so endearing about her he just wanted to hold her and promise her that everything was going to be all right.
It was a promise he couldn’t make though, and holding her right now when they were both feeling vulnerable was the last thing he should do.
He walked through the bedroom and turned on the water in the tub. She was still standing where he’d left her looking lost. He motioned her into the bathroom. “Strip down and get in there. You can get hypothermia even this far south, and right now you look like you might tip over at any moment.” He stripped off his shirt.
Willa’s eyes widened.
“Don’t worry, I’m not getting in with you. I’m just going to clean up the wound and then go see if I can find another boat on the island. I’ll lock the door as I leave. You get some rest. I’ll be back before you know it.”
She nodded and he turned his back to her. He cranked on some water in the sink and began to gingerly wash the flesh wound to his shoulder. This was the second bullet he’d taken in a matter of days. Not a good sign.
“There’s a first-aid kit in the cabinet,” she said behind him.
He opened the medicine cabinet over the sink and took out the box, amused to see what all was in it—including a note that read “Be careful. Love, Mom xoxox.”
He smiled to himself as he took out the gauze and replaced the box, note and all.
Just before the mirror steamed completely over, he saw Willa slip out of her shirt and bra. He looked away, but not before he’d seen the pale creamy flesh of her breasts and remembered the warm soft weight of her breast in his palm. Just the sight of her half-naked sent a stab of desire through him like a hot knife blade.
He ducked his head, waiting until he heard her step into the tub and close the curtain before he looked up again. Fighting the urge to join her in the tub no matter what he’d said, he quickly cleaned the wound. It hurt like hell but it was exactly what he needed to exorcise the memory of Willa half-naked and remind him what was at stake here. He had to keep his mind on finding the disk. The last thing he needed was to let Willa St. Clair, South Dakota virgin, distract him.
The thought made him laugh. She more than distracted him.
“What’s so funny?” she asked from in the tub.
