Read Online Blind Ambition by Gwen Hernandez - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Gwen Hernandez
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anger and despair. “I should have used every bit of influence I had to adopt Flore as soon as possible and get her out of this rebel-infested jungle.”
“You never would have felt right about it if you’d done it that way.”
“Right or wrong won’t matter if we can’t get her back,” she said in a small voice. Her honey-red hair had come loose from the long braid she’d corralled it into before their march this morning, and now hung in wavy strands around her face. “I can’t believe Flore and the children are gone.” She pressed her fingers to her lips and her eyebrows lowered. “And Garfield.” Her voice twisted into a strangled sound of grief as a tear slipped free and trailed down her cheek.
Before he could stop himself, Dan wiped the errant moisture away with his thumb. “I know, honey.” Loss was one thing he knew far too well. “I’m sorry.”
Her breathing slowed and she continued to look at him, her eyes the shimmery blue of the shallow waters around the island. His heart raced. Every cell in his body strained toward her, like a compass needle drawn toward north.
She glanced at his mouth and he leapt back. Only an idiot would let her suck him in again. She was hurting and vulnerable. Any intimacy they shared right now wouldn’t mean anything to her later. It wasn’t real.
He crossed the small space, putting as much distance between them as possible, even though ten feet wasn’t nearly enough. Scanning out the window into the alley, he waited for her to regain her composure.
“Nice room,” he said, taking in the whitewashed walls of the bedroom that appeared to double for storage if the empty glass cabinets were any indication. A small bookshelf stuffed with ratty paperbacks perched on the wall above an unmade cot. A narrow wardrobe stood to the side. The kitchen area in the far corner had a small sink flanked by open shelving, a two-burner stove, and a mini fridge. It reminded him of the shack she’d been living in last time they were on the island together.
Why on earth would a woman like her—a woman who could have every luxury known to man—give it up to live in hovels like this? Was she just that selfless, or was there more to it?
“It’s not much, but it’s all I need.” Defensiveness had crept into her voice as if she knew what he was thinking.
A knock sounded on the door and they both turned. “Alyssa?” Troy called. “Are you okay?”
Dan crossed the room and opened the door. On second glance, he still didn’t like her boss, though he knew he wasn’t being fair. The too-slick, too-coiffed preppy reminded Dan of the privileged assholes he’d dealt with in high school. A selfish part of him was glad Alexa didn’t welcome the guy’s touch.
Troy frowned at him, but then schooled his face into a look of concern. “May I come in?”
“Yes,” Alexa said. “Please.”
He sidled past Dan and stepped toward her. “What can I do?”
She pushed away from the wall, her movements slow, as if her limbs were heavy. “Tell me what you know about the black market adoptions. Do you have any idea who the rebels are dealing with? Anything that could help us find the children?”
Us? Did she mean her and Troy, or her and Dan? But he was proud of her recovery. Already she’d turned her grief toward action.
“I really don’t know much about it,” Troy said. “This isn’t the first time it’s happened on the island, though I didn’t think SIR was making a business out of it. Certainly it’s not uncommon when disaster strikes poor countries.” He held both hands in front of him. “At least the children will likely go to good homes. The method might not be ideal, but the results are.”
“The results do not make it okay,” she snapped, stalking toward him, her face flushed, eyes narrowed. “Forget that they’re being ripped away from their real families and denied their native culture. Those poor children are probably terrified right now. They were taken at
“You never would have felt right about it if you’d done it that way.”
“Right or wrong won’t matter if we can’t get her back,” she said in a small voice. Her honey-red hair had come loose from the long braid she’d corralled it into before their march this morning, and now hung in wavy strands around her face. “I can’t believe Flore and the children are gone.” She pressed her fingers to her lips and her eyebrows lowered. “And Garfield.” Her voice twisted into a strangled sound of grief as a tear slipped free and trailed down her cheek.
Before he could stop himself, Dan wiped the errant moisture away with his thumb. “I know, honey.” Loss was one thing he knew far too well. “I’m sorry.”
Her breathing slowed and she continued to look at him, her eyes the shimmery blue of the shallow waters around the island. His heart raced. Every cell in his body strained toward her, like a compass needle drawn toward north.
She glanced at his mouth and he leapt back. Only an idiot would let her suck him in again. She was hurting and vulnerable. Any intimacy they shared right now wouldn’t mean anything to her later. It wasn’t real.
He crossed the small space, putting as much distance between them as possible, even though ten feet wasn’t nearly enough. Scanning out the window into the alley, he waited for her to regain her composure.
“Nice room,” he said, taking in the whitewashed walls of the bedroom that appeared to double for storage if the empty glass cabinets were any indication. A small bookshelf stuffed with ratty paperbacks perched on the wall above an unmade cot. A narrow wardrobe stood to the side. The kitchen area in the far corner had a small sink flanked by open shelving, a two-burner stove, and a mini fridge. It reminded him of the shack she’d been living in last time they were on the island together.
Why on earth would a woman like her—a woman who could have every luxury known to man—give it up to live in hovels like this? Was she just that selfless, or was there more to it?
“It’s not much, but it’s all I need.” Defensiveness had crept into her voice as if she knew what he was thinking.
A knock sounded on the door and they both turned. “Alyssa?” Troy called. “Are you okay?”
Dan crossed the room and opened the door. On second glance, he still didn’t like her boss, though he knew he wasn’t being fair. The too-slick, too-coiffed preppy reminded Dan of the privileged assholes he’d dealt with in high school. A selfish part of him was glad Alexa didn’t welcome the guy’s touch.
Troy frowned at him, but then schooled his face into a look of concern. “May I come in?”
“Yes,” Alexa said. “Please.”
He sidled past Dan and stepped toward her. “What can I do?”
She pushed away from the wall, her movements slow, as if her limbs were heavy. “Tell me what you know about the black market adoptions. Do you have any idea who the rebels are dealing with? Anything that could help us find the children?”
Us? Did she mean her and Troy, or her and Dan? But he was proud of her recovery. Already she’d turned her grief toward action.
“I really don’t know much about it,” Troy said. “This isn’t the first time it’s happened on the island, though I didn’t think SIR was making a business out of it. Certainly it’s not uncommon when disaster strikes poor countries.” He held both hands in front of him. “At least the children will likely go to good homes. The method might not be ideal, but the results are.”
“The results do not make it okay,” she snapped, stalking toward him, her face flushed, eyes narrowed. “Forget that they’re being ripped away from their real families and denied their native culture. Those poor children are probably terrified right now. They were taken at
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