by Jan Moran
“Scarlett really won them over, didn’t she?” David nodded toward Scarlett. He put on a smile, but Scarlett wondered what was worrying him.
“I think they were impressed with the whole team, especially you, my good man.” Lucan shook his hand. “Now Scarlett, I know you’re taking holiday time. I insist you stay here at the Ritz.”
“Actually, I’m transferring to another hotel for the weekend, and then driving south.” Did he honestly think this was a magnanimous gesture? He often spent more on a bottle of wine.
“No need to move, your room is paid for.” Lucan spoke like a benevolent dictator.
“That’s really not necessary. I have a friend joining me. The Ritz is not in the budget.” Johnny had told her he was saving his money for the restaurant and asked if they might stay at a charming pensione nearby that Lance had recommended.
Lucan blinked, his eyes deadened in their sockets. “Put their room on your bill, too. Think of it as a bonus.” His mouth was a tight, thin line that revealed neither regret nor sorrow. “We’ll write it off to marketing.”
“That’s generous, but I can’t accept it. It’s inappropriate.” Scarlett shot a look at David, who seemed nonplussed over Lucan’s behavior. A hotel room for a weekend would hardly repair the damage Lucan had inflicted on her. What about his lecherous attack on the plane? What about the partnership that was rightfully hers?
Lucan’s professionally groomed eyebrows drew together. “Scarlett, that’s a direct order. The firm wants you to be comfortable. Think of it as a consolation award, if you wish. Charge whatever you want to the rooms, but you’re staying here.” He nodded to David.
“Scarlett, I’ll take your laptop back to the office for you,” David said. “You don’t want to lug it around with you on vacation.”
“Thanks, David, but it’s no problem.” Scarlett thought his face looked flushed and wondered if he was ill.
David mopped sweat from his hairline. “I’ve already got it, Scarlett. You left it with me last night.”
“I did?” Scarlett didn’t remember doing that, but they’d worked late, and she’d been tired. “Well, okay, thanks.”
Lucan dipped his chin. “Now David, come along, it’s time we’re off.”
Scarlett wished them a safe flight, but in truth, she’d like nothing more than to see Lucan expire in a flaming inferno. He was a vicious, despicable man. Something didn’t seem quite right this morning. She rubbed her neck.
Lucan stopped at the front desk and spoke to the manager on his way out. Scarlett leaned against a pillar and watched them go, thinking she’d never seen a man so calloused, or so tormented, as Lucan Blackstone.
And then there was David. He looked back over his shoulder, his brow furrowed with anxiety.
Scarlett exhaled, relieved they were gone. Already the tension was lifting from her shoulders.
The manager motioned to her from the front desk. “Senorita Sandoval, we’ll have your second suite ready soon.”
“Johnny!” Scarlett called out to him as he exited customs. Her heart thumped with excitement. She’d been yearning to see him all week.
“Look at us,” he cried. “We did it, we broke free, chica.” He flung his arms around her, lifted her from the ground, and swung her around.
She laughed and ran her hand across his muscular shoulders. He wore black jeans and a silky black T-shirt that hugged his well-defined chest. With his thick black hair and dark sunglasses, he looked so much like a Hollywood star that she had to laugh. “What happened to the ubiquitous bow-tie?”
“I’m on holiday. I’ve got a couple packed, but I want to buy some new ones here. Hey, you look pretty hot, love the high heels with jeans. Nice new style for you.” He held her hands away from him to check out her new casual look. His eyes crinkled at the corners, and a smile played on his lips.
Scarlett glanced down. “And it’s all from Spanish designers, too. I had to contribute to the local economy.”
“Much better that your corporate grey and black suits. Not that you don’t look great in those, too. But this is so much more you.”
Scarlett’s cheeks grew warm. “Guess I’ve been overdue for a holiday.”
“You’ve been overdue for life. And we’re going to change that.” He stopped at the luggage carousel and grabbed his suitcase. “So where are you taking me first?”
She tossed her hair over one shoulder. “How about the Ritz, handsome?”
Johnny made a face. “That’s really out of my budget. Someday, after the restaurant is a huge success—”
“Relax, it’s a gift from the firm.”
“You’re kidding.” He took her hand, twirled her around, and executed a perfect dip. “Then let’s go, chica.”
Johnny and Scarlett started at a restaurant that served Basque food from the northern part of Spain and then went to a tapas bar in the La Latina district. Johnny insisted they finish off with churros and chocolate at San Ginés Chocolateria, a restaurant he’d read about which had been operating for more than a century. With its dark green paneling, mirrored walls, and marble counters, the jewel box of a shop was tucked away on a small side street and was open around the clock. The air was permeated with the rich patina of chocolate and fried dough.
They entered the shop, and no sooner had they sat down than a waiter whisked by. Without inquiring about an order, he simply served two sturdy porcelain cups of warm, thick sweet chocolate, along with plates of hot-from-the-fryer churros.
“Smells incredible.” Johnny sprinkled powdered sugar on his churro, dipped it into a cup of chocolate, and then took a bite. “Is this even legal?” he asked, exclaiming over the chocolate treat.
“If it isn’t, I’ll defend you,” Scarlett said, following suit. “Oh, this is delicious! You should put something like this on your menu.”
A smile spread across Johnny’s face. “Who knows? We might.” He snapped a photo of the churros and chocolate with his phone.
“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
Johnny met her eyes over the rim of her cup. “Among other reasons.”
As heat gathered in her chest, Scarlett averted her gaze. “Let’s work out a plan,” she said, her words tumbling out. “We’ll take notes and photos of everything you like, and when we return, we’ll see if Lance can make it.”
Johnny touched her hand. “Lance can make just about anything. Relax, Scarlett.”
She inhaled deeply, and released a breath. He was right, it felt good.
Afterward, they strolled through the central shopping district. Scarlett stopped by Loewe and splurged on a bright yellow Amazona purse for her mother.
“Isabel will love that,” Johnny said.
“She’s always wanted one. Someday I’ll bring her here, too.”
“You’re a good daughter, Scarlett. I know your mother appreciates you. No one knows better than I do how rough it was when Franco died. And your papa, of course.” He dodged a crack in the sidewalk and offered her his arm for support.
She hooked her hand in the crook of his elbow. “We’ll always miss Franco, won’t we?”
“Hardly a day goes by that I don’t think about him,” Johnny said. “Whenever I hear a Spanish guitar, I always think of Franco.”
“Me, too. He played so beautifully. In fact, I couldn’t bring myself to listen to acoustical guitar music for a long time after he died. Even now, I often tear up.” She turned her face up to his, and saw him blink back emotion.
“I haven’t played much since then either.” Johnny pulled her closer and draped his arm across her shoulder. “He really loved you, Scarlett.” As they walked, they reminisced about their families and childhoods. There wasn’t anyone else who understood what she had been through, or where she had come from.
“Dinner is served late in Spain,” Johnny said. “Feel like a massage or a work-out?”
Scarlett laughed. “If we’re going to continue eating like this, I need to visit the fitness center.”
�
�I’ll join you.” Johnny patted his taut stomach, but Scarlett thought he looked just fine.
They returned to the Ritz, and Johnny checked into his suite, which was one floor above hers. “I’ll meet you at the gym when I’m ready,” he said.
Scarlett changed into her fitness gear and made her way to the exercise area. Johnny was already there. She paused by the door to watch him. He was incredibly fit and perfectly muscled. If she didn’t know him already, he was definitely a man she’d want to meet.
“Hey, look at you.” He squeezed the toned muscles in her arm. “No wonder you flattened that guy in the garage.”
She flexed an arm. “That was the result of good training. Any woman can learn that.”
Johnny let his hand glide from her shoulder to her hand, and his eyes followed, lingering on her skin. “I think you’re in pretty good shape, counselor.”
Flushing, she climbed onto a stationary bike and began pedaling. “I’m not as buff as you are though. I get most of my workouts from a laptop, rather than a lap pool.”
“You’re perfect as you are. I like feminine women. A few soft curves are sexy,” he added with a wink. He joined her on an adjacent bike, and they continued talking while they warmed up. Half an hour later, he moved on to weights. Scarlett followed him and looked on while he showed her some new exercises.
“Are you watching?” he asked, as he executed a perfect curl.
Am I ever. Scarlett grinned. “What Maude wouldn’t give to be here right now.”
Johnny shot her a dirty look.
“I couldn’t help it,” she said, giggling to break the tension between them. Besides, she loved to tease him.
Feigning anger, Johnny returned the weight to its stand and pulled her close to him. “What am I going to do with you?”
His body was warm with exertion. Scarlett gazed at his firm chest, and then let her eyes travel up. She saw emotion in his eyes, and his intense expression surprised her. She laughed with nervousness and pulled away. “I think I need a bath. Call me when you’re through.”
Her heart pounding, she strode from the fitness center. Her attraction for Johnny was getting out of control. He was a childhood friend, the best friend of her brother. The last thing she wanted to do was to endanger their friendship. One more step and she might ruin everything between them.
But why did he have to be so damned appealing?
Scarlett opened the door to her suite and ripped off her clothes. She slipped into her robe, and then flung open the balcony double doors to let the early evening breeze clear her mind. The sound of flamenco music filtered from the street below, and faint stars twinkled in the twilit sky.
She gazed over the city she’d grown to love in the past week. This was a journey of discovery for her. Perhaps in more ways than she’d imagined. She eased into a bath and let her muscles relax. When she was through, she stepped from the bath, wound a fluffy white towel around her hair, turban-style, and tied the white terry cloth robe around her waist.
Her neck still felt strangely tight, and she rotated it a few times.
A soft breeze wafted through the open doors, fluttering the sheer white panels that billowed like sails into the room. By now night had fallen, and Scarlett stepped through the door to look out. As she did, she stubbed a toe, and leaned over, hopping to keep her balance.
Suddenly, the air above her cracked and her toweled turban sustained a sharp thud, the force of which knocked her on her back. She cried out. “What the—”
Another sound cracked the night air and splintered the moulding on the wall across the room. Instant panic seized her.
Adrenaline surging through her, she flattened her body against the carpet and belly crawled behind the open door. A third shot blew apart the leg of a cherry wood antique desk. It teetered precariously over her.
Her heart pounding, she rolled over on her back and tried to catch her breath. Now what?
Who was shooting at her? A terrorist? Television news reports flashed through her mind. Was she about to be tomorrow’s headlines? She was breathing so rapidly she was growing lightheaded, but she had to keep her wits about her.
Is this how it ends?
She spied her phone on the bed and inched her way to it. Her fingers shaking, she pressed Johnny’s number. It rang once, twice, three times.
Answer your phone, Johnny!
Four times. Five.
“Hi chica, almost ready, just getting dressed.”
“Johnny, I’m in my room,” she cried, shivering with terror. “Call security! Someone is shooting through the open door from the street! Oh God, please hurry, come quickly.” She squeezed her eyes shut, thinking about her brother, who’d been killed in an ambush in Afghanistan. Possibly like this, she thought, praying. Franco, if you can hear me…
“Stay on the line, Scarlett, stay with me!”
10
AS SOON AS Johnny heard the distress in Scarlett’s voice, he raced from his suite and pounded through the hallway at the Ritz in a T-shirt and yellow-striped boxer briefs, dodging shocked guests. He yelled over his shoulder. “Call security to Room 410, Scarlett Sandoval’s room. There’s a shooter outside!” He repeated his words in Spanish, pleading for help.
A couple of women screamed. A man turned and ran into his own room. “I’ll call,” he said.
“Hurry, my girlfriend is still in there.”
Johnny thudded down the stairwell, taking three steps at a time, and burst onto her floor.
He still had her on his cell phone. “Scarlett, can you get to the door?”
“No, it’s in the direct path of the balcony door, where the shots are coming from. Don’t get too close, Johnny. Please don’t.” As her voice cracked, his heart splintered. He couldn’t lose her. Not now, not when they were so close.
“I’ll be careful. Where the hell is security?” He arrived at her door. “I’m here. Wait a minute, I think someone is coming.”
“Please be careful, please. I need you, Johnny.”
“Hang on. It’s security, and he’s a big guy.” Scarlett was suppressing sobs on the phone, and it ripped his heart out.
The guard put a beefy hand on his two-way radio. “Do you have an ID, sir?” His eyes dropped to Johnny’s bright boxer briefs.
Johnny put his fists on his hips. “Do I look like I do?” He quickly explained the situation.
The guard stepped to one side. “We’d better call the police.” He spoke into his radio.
“How long will that take? Can’t you open the door?”
When the guard shook his head, Johnny said, “Come on, my girlfriend is in danger. I’ll take the responsibility.” He spotted the man’s wedding ring. “What if it were your wife?” The security guard sighed and relented. He swiped the passkey, and Johnny swung open the door. “Scarlett, can you hear me?”
“Yes, yes I can.”
“Stay there. I’m coming in to get you.” He wiped sweat from his brow and inched along the wall.
“I can see your shadow. Get down, Johnny.”
“Think they’re still there?”
“Don’t take that chance.”
Johnny looked around. “Hey, amigo, I need your hat.” He snatched it from the guard’s head and tossed it into the room. A shot ripped through it.
Scarlett screamed.
“Holy caca, we need help,” Johnny said grimly, passing a hand in front of his face. “And you need a new hat.”
He spoke into the phone. “Scarlett, the police are on their way. Stay with me, chica. Stay calm.” She sniffled on the other end of the line, and he could hear her murmuring a prayer in Spanish. Johnny fell to his knees. He felt so helpless. “Listen, I’m coming in.”
“No, no, stay there, Johnny.”
“I’ve got to help you.” He heard her ragged breath through the phone.
Outside, a police siren bleated in the night, drawing closer. “Do you hear that?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
Red flashing lights burst t
hrough the night, blazing through Scarlett’s open doorway. Moments later, screeching patrol cars closed the street, and an armed team moved into the hotel, which had been placed on lockdown. An announcement blared though the hotel, asking people to stay away from exterior windows.
Doors in the corridor flung open, and guests in all manner of dress—from bathrobes to tuxedos and evening gowns—spilled into the hallway. “What’s going on? Is it a terrorist attack?”
Johnny angled away from the crowd. “Still with me?”
“Yes,” she replied softly.
The minutes ticked by like hours. Johnny wiped perspiration from his face. Clutching his phone, he slid down the wall by her open door. “Can you hear me?”
“Yeah,” came the faint reply.
“Try to stay calm. We’ll get you out of there.” He didn’t know how, but losing her was not an option. He had to keep her calm.
“Johnny, I’m so scared,” Scarlett whispered.
Her distress was palpable. He pressed his hand to his forehead. “Think about how you whipped that guy in the parking garage. Be that strong woman now, mi corazon.”
She was silent for a long time. Her breathing became wispy.
“Johnny, if I don’t make it—”
“Shh, you’re going to be fine. Just wait.” Filled with anguish, he leaned his head against the wall. “I’m here, Scarlett, I won’t leave you.”
The phone went silent again. After a while, Scarlett whispered. “Who’s trying to kill me? What do they want?”
He gritted his teeth. He wished he knew. “Maybe it’s a mistake.” Who would want to do Scarlett harm?
“No such thing…” Her breath caught.
Johnny squeezed his eyes shut against his agony. “Relax, just breathe.”
“Tell my mother—”
“You’ll tell her yourself, mi amor.”
He had to reach her. Where the hell were the police? He leaned into the doorway. If he could crawl on the floor to her—
“Sir, please stand aside.”
Johnny looked up at a group of armed officers in protective gear. “Am I glad to see you guys.” He scrambled to his feet.
