Page 31 of Romancing Rayne

“How long ago?”

“Almost an hour ago.”

“Can you track the taxi?”

Hope bloomed in my chest. If Tex could find the taxi, I’d find Rayne.

“The taxi was caught by a traffic cam in front of Swedenborg Gardens almost thirty minutes ago.”

“Swedenborg Gardens?”

Why the fuck would she be going there? We’d discussed going tomorrow, but she’d decided she’d rather see another palace. Had she changed her mind? Nothing was making sense. Rayne wouldn’t leave and go off by herself. No fucking way.

“Yes. The taxi pulled off the main highway into a residential area. There are fewer cameras on those streets. It’s going to take me a few minutes to try to pick up the taxi’s location.”

“Goddamn it!” I shouted, ignoring the people all around.

“We’re going to find her. Hold tight.”

“I can’t hold tight. My pregnant wife is God knows where, alone, with no line of communication. I lost my ability to hold fucking tight four hours ago.”

“Pregnant?”

“Yes,” I spit out, not caring that we’d decided not to tell our friends until we could all get together for a barbecue. Keeping the secret seemed meaningless now. I needed Tex to understand the gravity of the situation.

As hard as it was, Tex was right, I had to calm down and think, but for the life of me I couldn’t stop picturing Rayne afraid or hurt. I wiped my free hand over my face and took a deep breath.

Think, asshole, think. Slow down.

“Can you make out a cab company and ID number?” I asked.

“Let me go back and see,” Tex answered. “Yes. The Queen’s Royal Taxi. Number 07301998.”

“Let me know if you can pick the cab back up. I have to make another call.”

“Copy that.”

I disconnected and called Oliver.

“Miss me already, mate?” His cheerful voice came over the line.

“I need your help.”

“Anything.” He quickly sobered, obviously hearing the desperation in my voice.

13

Rayne

My luck had gone from bad to worse.

I was now completely lost in the middle of nowhere. My travel guide and map were in my purse, which, of course, was in the back of the runaway taxi, along with my identification and credit cards. Thank God, my passport was at the hotel, locked in the safe, or I’d be stuck there. Blocks and blocks of factories with tall chain-link fences surrounding the buildings. I screamed for help, hoping someone would hear me, but to no avail. The buildings were too far from the road.

I wanted Ghost. I wanted to go home. I wanted to be cuddled up next to him in our bed, relaxing. Maybe traveling overseas was no longer in the cards for me. And my stomach was screaming at me for food. I wished I’d had more than a pastry for breakfast. Ghost had complained I wasn’t eating enough, however morning sickness seemed to be setting in and the thought of more than a small croissant had made me want to hurl. Thankfully, it wasn’t raining yet. The sky had started to cloud over, and I was waiting to be dumped on at any moment.

I looked around, trying to find any landmark in the skyline, but there was nothing. I couldn’t even see the London Eye from where I was. I was completely turned around and all I knew was the sun was no longer directly overhead and had started to fall to the west. Not even that little piece of information helped me because I didn’t know what damn direction the hotel was in. I wished Ghost were there. He could’ve steered us back to the hotel using his super-supreme navigational skills.

Oh my god, Ghost!