Gone Tropical Read Online Free PDF Page B

after Firth absconded with the funds.”
    “So, what will you do?” Jake asked.
    “If Daddy wants me to stay here, I will. Anyway, for all we know, Firth may have bought the ticket to create a false trail. He could still be in Sydney.”
    Jake’s eyes widened. She gave him a sassy stare. Didn’t think about that one did you, Mr. Smarty Pants P.I .?
    “So you’ll do some investigating down here?” He slipped the photograph into his pocket and patted it.
    She nodded.
    “Great.” He pulled the sunglasses out of the top of his shirt, indicated to the waiter he wanted the check, and smiled. “We should stay in touch. You’ll remain here at this hotel?”
    Amy shifted in the chair, uncrossed and re-crossed her legs. Her skirt hiked up and she didn’t tug the hemline down. Jake’s gaze turned hot and liquid. He swallowed hard.
    “I won’t stay anywhere less than a five-star hotel.” Well, hell, if he had labeled her a princess then she might as well be one. “Call me anytime you want.” She stood, hoisted her designer purse straps onto her shoulder, and sashayed across to the steps. “See you boys when you return.”
    The bank of elevators seemed miles away. Her heart pounded. She needed to book her flight, buy tropical weather clothes, and get up to Cairns. Townsville was south of Cairns. Four hours by car, at the very least. Jake and Sarge were flying into Townsville Airport in a crate with wings. She’d be on a jet. With any luck she’d get to Cairns before they did.
    Inside the elevator, she pressed against the back wall and tried to slow her racing pulse. A warning stirred in her gut—this was probably the dumbest thing she’d ever done—but she brushed the thought aside. It wasn’t about returning the money to her father, although that would be great. Five million dollars wasn’t chicken feed, but her father’s business was doing fine now. This was about her guilt, and her need to make good. She suddenly realized the elevator wasn’t moving. She’d forgotten to press the button. With a sigh, and a roll of her eyes, she reached over and punched the floor number.
    Fray had set her up, conned her and the whole family. She’d trusted him, believed herself to be in love with him, and he’d used her. Men like that didn’t deserve to roam the world free. She’d find him. She’d show them she’d outgrown the spoiled baby-of-the-family role. She couldbe sensible, strong, and independent.
    Well, maybe not the sensible part, but definitely the other two.

Chapter Three
    “Mr. Firth…Mr. Firth.”
    The name finally registered in Steven Fray’s mind. He repeated his name. Stuart Firth. Who would be calling to him?
    The small Cairns airport was busy, vacationers everywhere, and the steam of the tropics wafted through the baggage claim area whenever the doors opened. He stepped out of the way of a half-crazed woman dragging a kicking, screaming, red-faced toddler toward the women’s restroom, and took a quick look back. Meg walked beside him, just another passenger. They’d booked separately, and had sat rows apart on the plane.
    A man in a dark suit approached with a sign for Mr. Stuart Firth. He raised a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. I’m your driver.”
    Stuart tilted his head. He hadn’t ordered a car. Col Braxton had begrudgingly sent his thug, Hadi Salim, to Sydney when he’d raised the alarm that he was being followed. Hadi, a native of Jakarta, had been educated in England, and although full of himself, he’d done a decent enough job.
    The man glanced toward Meg. “Welcome to Cairns. Mr. Braxton sent the limousine.”
    “We have a couple of…bags, ports…checked,” Stuart said, regaining his focus. A bag was a port in Queensland. He gave himself a mental high five for remembering the local lingo.
    “I’ll take you to Mr. Braxton’s private slip. Captain Hafe will transport you.”
    Stuart nodded. Now they’d go by private yacht to Braxton Island, instead of by public