Page 31 of Wired Courage

Todd Remarkian.Sophie’s first lover.

His brain had added up all the clues as he slept.

Remarkian had supposedly been Hamilton’s business partner at Security Solutions. The blond, blue-eyed Aussie had been killed by a bomb close to two years ago. Remarkian had been Sophie’s boyfriend—a man who would still be with her if he hadn’t been “killed.”

Only Remarkian wasn’t really dead. He lived a double life, hiding behind colored contacts, dyed hair, and a pair of hipster glasses, masquerading as the CEO of their company, Sheldon Hamilton. And Sheldon Hamilton was also a man who called himselfConnor, a man who loved Sophie as much as Jake did.

Todd/Sheldon/Connor. A man Jake had come to regard as a friend.

Jake lay rigid, his mind whirling.Why had Remarkian faked his own death?

He had to be the Ghost vigilante. There was no other reason the man would have set in motion such an elaborate ruse; nothing else made sense. The FBI had been onto him, so he’d faked the death of his Todd Remarkian persona, and kept his Hamilton identity.

Sophie had to know that her first lover was still alive.

The betrayal. . . Jake groaned aloud at the pain. His inarticulate cry bounced off the stones and mocked him.

He’d taken one blow after another from Sophie.Had she ever been honest with him?Told him the truth? Chosen him first, over others?

Was she really with Connor, or with him?

And let’s not forget Alika, Momi’s biological father, the “baby daddy.” At least Jake was reasonably certain Sophie was overthatguy!

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered, covering his eyes with his hands. “Holy crap. Oh my God.” No curses of any kind seemed adequate. Jake rolled on his side and groaned again, his eyes stinging.

Everything was sore, and there was no escape from his pain.

He punched the stone, because punching beat tears any frickin’ day. He welcomed the pain of his split knuckles.

The door, a crude wooden affair, creaked open. Jake rolled over, shading his eyes from light pouring in.

The man with the purple eyes stood framed in it, staring down at him.

“How are you?” Purple Eyes had a British and Thai accent, and his voice was mellow and kind.

“Just dandy.” Jake’s throat felt like someone had taken a cheese grater to it, and it sounded about as good. “Nothing like dying in a tub of water to make you appreciate life.”

Only he didn’t appreciate life. He ought just to have died, rather than have to deal with this latest punch to the gut. He’d thought Connor was a friend, but never had the man so much as hinted at his other identity throughout all those long days they’d spent in close proximity.

Connor and Sophie had conspired against him. Kept him out of the loop. Who knew what their relationship really was? Jake shut his eyes, overwhelmed.

“Your friend cares for you very much,” Purple Eyes said. “He saved your life.”

“He’s not my friend.” Alarm flushed Jake’s system. “What did he promise you?”Connor had to have caved . . .

“The crown prince of Thailand needs Sophie’s help.” Purple Eyes settled himself, resting a hip on the edge of Jake’s low, wood-framed pallet. “The prince is dying of a rare form of leukemia. He needs a bone marrow transplant. Sophie is his only match.”

Jake absorbed this. “Why didn’t you—or Pim Wat—just tell us that? Ask Sophie to be a donor? After all, isn’t the prince some kind of relative?”

“Second cousin.” Purple Eyes stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I left it up to Pim Wat, thinking she was the one to approach her daughter. She seems to have made a mess of things.”

“We couldn’t figure out why Pim Wat wanted Sophie to come here so badly,” Jake rasped. “And is that why Pim Wat snatched Sophie’s baby?”

The man inclined his head in assent. “The baby is gone. The nanny stole her.”

Jake’s chest squeezed painfully. “What?”

“We don’t know where Armita took the child.” Purple Eyes shook his head. “I should have monitored the situation. Intervened sooner.”

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