Page 58 of Reckless Love

“My last warning?” Raul shouts back, his tone full of mockery.

“I would not antagonize them, sir,” Datu says from beside me.

“That’s right,” the person at the front says, “your last one.”

“Or what?” Raul continues, ignoring Datu’s advice. “You’ve got nothing, and if you keep up this charade of a strike, you’ll really have nothing.”

“We have served our notice,” the person on the mic says, “and what comes next is of your own making.” The grim reaper steps down and leads the protesters back out the same door they stormed in from. Their noisy chaos echoes around the high ceilings.

“Pathetic. Truly pathetic. When are they going to realize that unionized or not, they’ve got no power?” Raul says with a scoff. “No power or influence over anyone on this island.” He takes another drink from the tray of the nearest waiter while Datu and the other guy scan the crowd.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of a familiar stride through one of the huge oceanfront windows. “I need some air,” I murmur.

“We don’t know that they’ve gone yet,” Datu says. “That was clearly a threat—”

“I’ll be fine,” I say, and I really believe that. None of those people hate me. They hate my husband, who’s never been one of my favorite people and is even less so now.

“Ms. Tucker,” Datu says, exasperated.

“Let her,” Raul says.

I head for the door that leads out to the large patio that overlooks the ocean, and I set my drink on a high table as I leave. The protest was more annoying than anything. Like Raul, I don’t see any of the workers as being dangerous. If I knew of a way to win Raul over, I’d feed it to Jenny to give to her husband. Help the workers that way. But Raul can’t be won.

As soon as I step out the doors, I breathe a sigh of relief. Being in there was starting to feel claustrophobic.

“What is your compulsion for heading toward danger?” a familiar voice says from nearby, his tone irritated.

“I was heading toward you.” I turn to face him, and the orange cocktail dress I’m wearing brushes against my thighs.

“They’re getting bolder, more desperate,” Stephen says, gesturing toward the side entrance. “You shouldn’t be out here without security.”

“It’s a good thing you’re my security then, isn’t it?”

“Technically, I’m not.”

“Because you don’t want to be?”

He shakes his head and scans the area around us, still on higher alert than normal.

“Are you mad at me?” I ask.

“For putting yourself in danger? Yes. Always.”

“No, is that why you’re not part of our security this time? You’re mad at me?”

“Your husband requested that I not be involved this time.”

“But you’re here?”

He breathes out a deep sigh and meets my gaze, but he doesn’t confirm what I already suspect. He’s here because I’m here, because there was a chance I could be in danger.

“Have you been following us this whole time? Out of sight but here?” If that’s true, it bothers me that I haven’t noticed, that the extra sense I always attribute to having Stephen nearby hasn’t gone off.

“What did you tell Raul?” he asks, and I know he means about us from his tone.

“He probably thinks he’s protecting our marriage by keeping you away.”

“Because…?”