by Ann Major
Because staying home alone had terrified her.
She had to get out of here before he woke up!
After much wriggling and shoving at his hatefully broad shoulders, she managed to get free of the handsome jerk. As she grabbed her clothes, he began to snore lightly until he rolled over. After that he began to sleep more quietly.
Mortified as she studied his sprawled, muscular body in the moonlight, she fastened her bra with only one hook. He was good-looking in the buff, she’d give him that.
But what if she got pregnant? Had he even used a condom? If only she could remember. On the other hand, maybe it was just as well that she didn’t. Now she’d have no embarrassing details to haunt her.
As she pulled on her red jersey top, memories of his lips on her nipples as he’d suckled and caressed them assaulted her. Her face did a slow burn as she pulled on her skirt and began to search the floor for her red satin thong panties.
When she couldn’t find them, she wanted to wake him up and scream at him. But there was no telling what he might do, or what she might do if he kissed her again as he had in the bar, so she gave up the search. He was a good kisser.
Too good.
Grabbing his keys, she ran out the door without her panties. She’d call him later and tell him where he could find his truck.
When she called him, should she ask him to mail her her panties?
No. Hell, no!
On second thought she wouldn’t bother calling him about his damn truck. He’d have to find it on his own.
Joanne took a deep breath against the panic that threatened to overwhelm her as she clutched the phone to her ear in a death grip.
“I’m afraid I’m busy on that date, too,” Joanne said.
She wasn’t looking at her calendar, but she didn’t need to.
“Every time I call, you say you’re busy,” Terence said in a mild tone. “I guess a smarter guy would take a hint.”
Joanne said nothing as she strode across the living room and then went outside to stand on her veranda. She hated his calls now because she wanted to say yes to him so badly.
She drew another deep breath and stared across the pastures. The sky was gray and the wind was blowing, causing the palm fronds to clatter so noisily she had to go back inside.
“I—I guess I don’t think this…us…our seeing each other is…is such a great idea,” she said.
“Why the hell not?”
“It should be obvious.”
“To whom?”
“We’re so different.”
“So?”
“There’s no future.”
“Do people like us really need a future? What’s wrong with us just seeing each other until we get tired of each other?”
Nothing—if you weren’t who you are and I wasn’t who I am.
“Someone’s bound to find out,” she said.
“So what? We’re not committing a crime.”
“It would be embarrassing.”
“And that’s your final answer?”
“Goodbye, Terence.”
“What is it really?”
Again she saw the picture in his office of his twin blond daughters. “Please, don’t call again.”
Quickly, without saying anything else, she hung up on him.
Maybe her abruptness this time would convince him that his calls were useless. Hopefully he’d give up soon. Because every time he called, his deep, gravelly voice cut her to pieces.
She couldn’t care about him. Not seriously. It was just that she’d so little happiness of the kind he provided.
So little good sex, too.
God, she missed the sex. Just talking to him had her wet and shaky and feeling half her age.
On an impulse, partially to distract herself, she dialed Leo and was relieved when he answered.
“I know it’s early…”
“I was just on my way out.”
At least she hadn’t awakened him. “It’s me. Joanne,” she said without further preamble. “Did you find anything out?”
“About what?” He sounded confused.
“The twins. Electra’s missing twins. I know Lizzy gave you Electra’s journal and asked you to hire a detective.”
He drew a long breath.
“Not yet.” His deep tone had sharpened.
“But you’re still working on it?”
“Yes. I’ll let you and Lizzy know when I find out something.”
He said goodbye. When he hung up, she felt even more dissatisfied than ever.
Usually she had the utmost confidence in Leo. But he hadn’t sounded like himself. There had definitely been something strained and odd in his tone.
It’s not Leo. It’s me. I’m overly sensitive because I’m so rattled about Terence. That’s all.
Leo would call when he knew more.
Why hadn’t she told him what she knew?
“Get married at the end of this week?” Mia whispered, stunned.
Gripping the wheel, Shanghai stared down the road, swerving to avoid a pothole. “I don’t see why not.”
“Plan a wedding? That fast? You can’t be serious!”
He shot her a quick, impatient glance. “I’m here. I popped the question, and you said yes. We have to get some blood tests and a license, wait a few days. And then—why the hell not?”
“This isn’t something as easy to set up as a doctor’s appointment or a haircut.”
“All we need is a preacher and a few people in the chapel to stand up with us. You could pull it off if you wanted to.”
“So now the ball is squarely in my court.”
“People spend way too much time and money on weddings these days. Like I said—you could do it.”
“So our wedding is no big deal? You just want something thrown together?”
“Your words. Not mine. I don’t see what’s wrong with my idea.”
“A man would think like that.”
“We have other more important things to deal with,” he said gravely. “Life and death matters for one thing.” His voice took on an edge. “I wouldn’t mind shutting the press up on the subject of your sex life, either. They’ve damn sure gone to town on Cole having two wives at the same time—the Kemble sisters. You know I hate the hell out of all the bullshit stories about that year you spent in Mexico with Morales.”
“All right,” she whispered tightly. “Whatever you say. But it doesn’t seem very romantic.”
“Why not? Why won’t people just think your bridegroom is simply eager to have you?”
“Are you?”
Looking annoyed now, he kept staring at the road. When he didn’t confirm his eagerness, her confidence after the wonderful time they’d shared in bed began to erode.
“Is this just a marriage of convenience to you?” she prodded.
He frowned and withdrew his arm from around her shoulders. “Is it to you?”
“I asked first.”
“You’re in a lousy mood all of a sudden.” He placed both hands on the wheel and stared ahead without smiling or bothering to answer.
“So is it?” she choked out.
His mouth thinned. “Women—you’re all the same about stuff like this. Once you get goin’, you don’t stop till you corner a guy.”
“You still haven’t answered me.”
“’Cause I…”
His mobile phone rang. He shot her a glance and seemed relieved for an excuse to answer it and to talk to whoever it was instead of to her.
“What?” he said, his brows drawing together. “Oh God—”
“What’s wrong?” she whispered, frantic suddenly.
His eyes narrowed as he concentrated on whatever his caller was saying. All she caught were clipped words and phrases.
“Where…dead rats…a girl…unconscious…gotcha. We’ll be there.”
When he ended the call, he stomped a toe on the accelerator of his truck.
“Well?” she demanded, wild to know what was going on.
“What?”
“Your friend—Morales.”
“Don’t call him that. What’s happened?”
“That was Cole. There’s been a plane crash about eight miles south of the ranch’s headquarters. Not really a crash exactly. A rough emergency landing. A single engine Cessna Skyhawk.”
“Cole would know the exact kind of plane.”
Shanghai smiled tightly. “There was a girl inside.”
“Who?”
“She’s groggy, almost unconscious. Can’t say much…other than your name.”
“She knows me?”
“She’s said your name over and over again. She’s been drugged probably. Kinky and Cole think she’s fine, though. They’re bringing her to the house.”
“Were there drugs on board?”
He hesitated. “No. The back seats had been ripped out to make room for larger cargoes, but the hold was full of…”
“Tell me!”
“You’re not going to like this.” He studied her. “Huge dead rats.”
She gasped.
“How’d he find out you’re so scared of rats?”
“I had nightmares. He heard me screaming about rats and came to check on me.”
“The lousy bastard came to comfort you when you were in bed?” he exploded. “How the hell did you reward him?”
“I didn’t!”
One glance at her, and his hard face softened. She shut her eyes and buried her face in her hands.
“Please—don’t keep doing this! It was bad enough…then. I—I don’t know how I got off so lightly. I really don’t, but when you accuse me of stuff I never did and he never did over and over again, it makes the fear come back, and I feel terrible, dirty even, just like I did then.”
“I’m sorry. I’m being a real shit again.”
Shanghai pulled off the road and shut off the engine. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. Then he removed his Stetson and ran his finger along the tattered turkey feather.
“I’m sorry, darlin’. I’ve gotta get a grip on this jealousy monster. Sometimes it damn near eats me alive.”
“Yes, you do. I care about you, not him. I did then, as well. Deep inside I think I always hoped someday I might have another chance with you. One of the biggest reasons I didn’t want to sleep with him was that I didn’t want to have to come to you feeling unclean.”
He swallowed and pressed his lips together. “All right. I believe you.” For the first time, since their conversation had begun, he opened his eyes and stared straight into hers. “I do.”
She felt his inner turmoil. He was trying hard to believe her.
“Kinky says that the rats in the plane are African Gambian Pouch rats from the Florida Keys.” His tone sounded stilted and awkward. “How the hell would he know that?”
She nodded. “Kinky’s something of an amateur zoologist.”
“I remember when you came to me and told me how you locked yourself in the attic and that rat bit your ankle. I didn’t think you were ever going to forgive me for tellin’ Caesar, who made you get all those awful shots.”
“Morales is sending me a message. Maybe he flew the plane here. Maybe he’s already on the ranch. Maybe…”
“Don’t drive yourself crazy.” Shanghai’s arm came back around her, and she leaned into his solid warmth.
“Chito could be with him. Or he could have flown the plane.”
“Stop it.”
“I’d rather it be Tavio than Chito.”
Shanghai scowled.
“You’re right. I’ll stop.” She snuggled closer against him, needing his strength. But he was tense and angry again. Even so, she was sure now that she wanted to marry him. She wanted him near, all the time, even if he didn’t love her. Even if he didn’t totally believe her about Tavio. Just the thought of Tavio brought back too many memories of Mexico and how helpless she’d felt.
She wanted Shanghai and their little girl. She wanted to be safe and happy and to trust in tomorrow. Maybe she couldn’t have forever. Right now tomorrow would be enough.
“Angelita!”
“Delia!”
Mia stared at the slim, olive-skinned girl sitting on the sofa of the living room surrounded by Cole, Lizzy, Sy’rai, Kinky and her mother with amazement.
“Tu no eres muerta,” Mia began in Spanish. You’re not dead. “Tavio told me…”
“He and Chito—they tell me they’re going to kill us both—together,” Delia said, her voice shaking. “That’s why he brought me here.”
Mia ran to Delia and sank to her knees on the floor beside the sofa. “I haven’t been able to forgive myself for letting you get in that truck. Tavio told me all the horrible things Guillermo…
Delia shuddered at the terrible memories. “He rape me and he burn me with his cigar.”
Mia took her hand. “You’re safe now. Are you hungry?”
“They’re heating some soup for me.”
Cole came up to Mia and spoke in English. “She doesn’t want us to alert the authorities. She’s terrified of anybody finding out where she is.”
“After what she’s been through, do you blame her?” Mia said. “Can’t we wait on that?”
“I don’t like it,” Cole said. “Hart…”
“I don’t trust Hart.”
“I know you don’t,” Shanghai said. “Still…” He leaned closer to Delia to question her in Spanish. “Who flew the plane?”
“I don’t know. Guillermo’s man maybe. Enrique, he give me something. I was asleep.”
“Why don’t we leave her alone for now?” Mia said, sitting down beside her. “Can’t you see she needs to rest and to feel safe.”
“But—”
“Just for a few days,” Mia pleaded.
“I think we should call John,” Cole said.
“Not yet,” Mia protested.
“So much for Homeland Security,” Shanghai said.
“What does one, young desperate woman matter?” Mia whispered. “She’s not a terrorist.”
“I know you think she’s your friend, darlin’, but she is associated with a vicious drug cartel.”
“You’ve both made valid points,” Cole said.
“She could be a terrorist or a murderess,” Shanghai persisted.
Even though she didn’t speak English, Delia’s eyes grew huge.
“She’s not!” Mia circled the girl with her arms and shot Shanghai a smoldering glance. “I know her! Shanghai, you’ve got to trust me on this!”
He frowned. “I don’t like it.”
When Shanghai cautiously drove up to the high-winged, white-and-blue Cessna Skyhawk with Mia at his side, a flock of black buzzards took flight, their wings flapping clumsily.
“Buzzards?” Mia whispered.
“You should be happy. They’ll make quick work of the rats. Kinky and Cole kicked all the long-tailed suckers in the plane out so they wouldn’t stink it up.”
Suddenly she was glad that he’d braked fifty yards away from the plane.
“So Cole intends to keep the plane if they can’t find the registered owner?” Mia queried.
Shanghai nodded as he opened his door and jumped into the high grass. When he came around to her side to help her out, she shook her head.
“I can see from here.”
From the truck, she watched him lope toward the plane, sidestepping round the objects she imagined to be the dead rats before he climbed inside the plane.
When he jumped out, he hurried toward her with a plastic box. When he came closer, he held the box up, and a black cat with huge yellow eyes yowled at her and then began clawing at the grill door.
“Negra?”
The cat meowed frantically when she touched its nose. Then Negra licked her fingertips.
“You two know each other.”
“Tavio’s men were going to kill her. He let me have her.”
“So he’s g
iving you a gift to please you.” Though the statement was spoken softly, it was deadly.
They were tense on the way back to the ranch house. Still, Mia held the cat carrier in her lap and crooned to the animal. Negra’s howls to be let out grew louder as Mia continued to stroke her nose through the grill.
“No telling when she last ate or drank anything,” Mia said.
“Morales is definitely sending you a message.”
“I don’t like the way your thoughts revolve around Tavio.”
“I don’t like it, either,” Shanghai said. “He put up five hundred thousand dollars to have you kidnapped. Where you’re concerned, he’s obsessed. I wouldn’t be too surprised if he wants to take you down himself. He could be here!”
She gulped in a strangled breath.
“I’m not going to let you out of my sight for a minute.” After a moment’s silence, he slid his arm around the back of her seat and pulled her closer.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he whispered.
The sky was a magical lavender color above the pine and oak woods. Unfortunately twilight didn’t last long in central Texas. It would soon be dark.
Astride Coco, Abby watched the egrets swooping in low, one at a time, each settling in the high branches of their favorite oak tree amidst the pines. White feathers littered the grass beneath the tree. Already there were more than forty egrets above her in the branches. There would be a few more stragglers, even after night fell.
Still, she wanted to get home before dark, so she nudged Coco with her heels and they headed across the old plank bridge that rumbled and echoed pleasantly with the sounds of the mare’s hooves. When Abby’s low-lying ranch house came into view, she saw an all-too-familiar black truck parked in front.
The door on the driver’s side sprang open, and a tall, swarthy man in a beautifully cut dark suit climbed down.
Leo Storm.
Every muscle in her body tensed. She should have answered her damn phone and ended it.
Fighting to ignore him, she avoided the house and rode straight toward her barn without waving or smiling. Even so, she was disturbingly aware of his eyes following her.
Dismounting outside the barn, she pressed her face into Coco’s muzzle for a long moment and prayed for strength.
