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boat. I imagine Mark will be headed your way in minutes. You will be between his position and the landing area, so you should be able to get out of there before he reaches you. The pilot’s name is Russell. Just keep a close watch. Don’t let one of those goons shoot my brother.’’
    ‘‘All right,’’ she said to both men. ‘‘Let’s go!’’ With her skirt hiked above her knees to make it easier to run, she led the way toward the copter, well aware that they were attracting a crowd—especially since Rad’s men ran with their guns out. The entire way she braced herself to see Rad go down. While it wouldn’t be a total disaster if Mark shot him at this point—they did know now where to find the girl—it was better for everyone if Rad escaped and her cover remained intact until Paulo was able to act on the information she’d pilfered. That way they stood a better chance of bringing down Radovanovic’s sexual-slavery operation and Mark wouldn’t be facing a murder charge in Hawaii.
    But when they bounded into the helicopter, she could see her husband running toward them, his arms and legs pumping like an Olympic sprinter’s. Then when it became obvious he couldn’t catch them, he stopped and took aim at Rad—until Annabelle put herself between the two men.
    As the helicopter lifted off the ground, she elbowed Rad’s bodyguard to keep him from taking a shot, then finger-waved to her husband. Moonlight illuminated the impotent fury that exploded in his expression as he stared up at the helicopter.
    She sucked in a breath. Whoa. Ordinarily, she would not feel safer inside a helicopter filled with murdering Eastern European gangsters than she would down on the ground with her husband. But then, nothing about tonight had been ordinary, had it?
    Annabelle grinned.

Chapter Three
    Mark held his peace for a good eighteen hours. He popped peppermints rather than speak after he rendezvoused with Luke and they made their way to the rocky beach where Matt had grounded the Zodiac. He maintained his cool when Annabelle’s local team informed him that they had rescued the hostage, a seventeen-year-old Russian girl found naked and bound in a vacation home rented by Radovanovic for a month. Mark even kept the lid on his temper as he and his brothers escorted Sophia back to their beachfront suite at the Kahala Hotel on Oahu, where they all caught a nap before they put Sophia on the red-eye for the overnight trip back to Dallas.
    Only after the Callahans returned to the Kahala, with the intention to order dinner and enjoy a real night’s sleep before heading home the following day, did Mark judge that the time had come to have a . . . discussion . . . with his brothers. He followed Matt and Luke into their suite, tossed his wallet, his Oakleys, and the rental-car keys on the Queen Anne coffee table, then declared, ‘‘You assholes.’’
    His brothers shared a look that signaled they each had something they wanted to say, too. As the eldest, Matt took the lead. He rolled up the sleeves of his light blue sport shirt. ‘‘Excuse me? Did the numb-nuts who kept secret from his family the fact that he’s been married for four years make a comment?’’
    Luke’s tone dripped sarcasm and radiated anger as he braced his hands on his hips and sneered. ‘‘Yes, Matt. The very same numb-nuts who also neglected to tell us for years that he’d had a wife and baby who died just called us assholes. Nervy bastard, don’t you think?’’
    ‘‘Don’t try to divert my attention,’’ Mark snapped. ‘‘You let Radovanovic escape.’’
    Luke lifted his chin belligerently. ‘‘Damned right we did. You weren’t thinking clearly.’’
    ‘‘You’d have done the same goddamned thing if you had a chance to kill that bastard.’’
    ‘‘Not at the risk of the operation,’’ Matt fired back.
    ‘‘And you let him take Annabelle with him!’’ Fury surged through Mark’s veins and his chest went tight. ‘‘He could