A Man to Remember

by Engels, Mary Tate

  She shook her head. "I don't know you. There's no reason I should trust you."

  "You have my word." Jake shrugged as if she should automatically believe that the value of his word was impeccable. "Meet me tonight at La Cabana. We can talk more about this, and I'll answer any of your questions." Jake bent to tug the gorgeous boots back on his feet. When he straightened, he smiled and tipped his Stetson again. "See you tonight at seven, Alyse."

  She followed him. "I haven't agreed to meet you."

  "You will when you realize you're all alone down here. I don't think you really want to ask for help from home. Why should you when you've got me?" Jake laughed and brushed her cheek with his fingertips. "We need each other, Alyse."

  She drew in her breath sharply and quelled the desire to grasp his strong hand and place it somewhere sensitive. She didn't flinch away from him. Already she trusted him.

  With a quick smile he stepped from the bow to the pier and was gone. Alyse still trembled at his fleeting touch, not from foreboding but from some inner attraction that drew her to him.

  At the end of the dock he paused and glanced around, as if to see if he was being followed. Admittedly, the man intrigued her. Jake Bronson reminded her of the men in her Bristol Bordeaux adventures - exciting, mysterious and stimulating. They were all the elements she loved in a man. Or in a situation.

  Even as she stood there, befuddled by his curious request, Alyse knew she would meet him for dinner tonight. What could possibly happen in a public restaurant? Anyway, he had promised to bring credentials.

  The man was right. If Evan were gone, as Jake Bronson claimed, she would need someone to help her take the Skye Command back home. She would not be making the trip with Evan. And she had already decided against calling home for help this time.

  Chapter Three

  Alyse was twenty minutes late, and Jake impatiently finished off a beer while he waited. He'd hoped she would come voluntarily. For some crazy reason he thought she would. Now it looked as if she'd double-crossed him. Damn! He'd have to make it all happen by force, and it might get ugly. But by God, he'd make it happen. He had to get out of Mexico, and this woman provided the best way.

  Suddenly she was there, scooting her chair beneath the small, circular table across from him. Their knees touched, and Alyse smiled and apologized for being late. He could think of nothing but how beautiful she looked in that silky black halter dress that showed off her slender waist and a generous amount of cleavage. Who would have guess she would look so good in clothes? The red bikini had been fabulously sexy on her, but tonight the black dress was sophisticated and elegant. And he wanted her with a sudden, almost overpowering desire.

  "I'll have a margarita," she told the waiter with an appropriate trilling of the r.

  "Make that dos, "Jake added, then turned to her. His hand covered hers. "I'm glad you came. Thought for a few minutes you might not make it."

  Delicately she retrieved her hand and tucked it in her lap. He wanted to put his hand there, too.

  "I didn't promise I'd make it. You assumed too much. I had to think about it."

  "And what did you come up with?"

  She smiled. "That I'd give you a chance to state your case. And identify yourself."

  "Fair enough." He dug into his back pocket and opened a leather wallet before her, spreading out several ID cards with photos, including his Texas driver's license. "Here you go. Mug shots and the whole works. Course, they were taken before I decided to grow this beard, such as it is." He ran his thumb along one scraggly jaw line. "The red must be a recessive gene from my Viking ancestors."

  Alyse looked directly at him for a moment. "I like it." She picked up a couple of the plastic cards and compared the photos with his face. "Looks like you're Jake Bronson, all right. What do you do in El Paso, Jake?"

  "Boots. We tool leather into custom-made cowboy boots. The most comfortable boots on the planet."

  "Boots?" She sat back. "Seriously?"

  "Yes Ma'am. Cowboy boots. We make them to fit your foot like a glove."

  She laughed and shook her head. "This is crazy. No wonder you had such gorgeous boots on deck today. Still, I would never have guessed you'd be a boot maker. It seems so . . . mild."

  "What would you have guessed?" They paused while the waiter delivered their drinks.

  "Well." She sighed. Her dancing blue eyes raked over him. "You're a little shady, like a private eye. A bit rough, like a hit man."

  "Wrong, Ma'am. Just an ordinary citizen, enjoying Mexico."

  She squinted. "Or maybe a border patrol officer. Here to snag some criminal hiding in Mexico."

  He leaned forward and arched one eyebrow. "Why don't you believe me? Just an ordinary guy, here to soak up some sun."

  "Sometimes stories are too weird to be true." She tapped the table. "I'm sure you have plenty of sun in El Paso."

  "Ah, but no water." He laughed wickedly and gathered his ID cards back into his wallet with long, tanned, precise fingers. "You seem to think I'm a terrible man, Alyse. Nothing could be further from the truth. I'm just a simple, mild-mannered boot maker."

  "Somehow I doubt that you're simple." She quirked one brow. "Or mild."

  He lifted his margarita glass. "To our new acquaintance. And a safe trip back home."

  She gave him a curious glance. "You seem mighty sure that you'll convince me to go along with this outrageous plan."

  "I was always the confident type." He clinked their glasses and took a mighty sip.

  Alyse dropped her eyes and paused briefly before she drank. He was also the persuasive type. Even knowing that, she was glad she'd decided to come along tonight. She couldn't help thinking Bristol Bordeaux would have jumped at this sort of thing. Mysterious and exciting. She needed that in her life.

  The waiter arrived, and Alyse vacillated between Red Snapper and Shrimp Veracruz.

  Jake's hand slid over hers to get her attention. "There's a little grill restaurant at Pichilinque Bay that serves marvelous grilled shrimp tacos. We'll go there tomorrow."

  "We will?" Alyse noticed that his hand felt warm and powerful as it lingered over hers. This time she didn't move.

  He nodded briskly and gave their order to the waiter. "Snapper Veracruz por dos y una mas margarita, por favor." He gave her a questioning look.

  Alyse shook her head. "I'll have bottled water, por favor." When the waiter left, she leaned toward Jake. "You're a presumptuous man, you know."

  He grinned like the devil. "I'm a positive thinker. Where I'm going to take you is a great place to eat, right on the beach, overlooking the bay. You'll love it." Jake couldn't take his eyes off this woman, couldn't get enough of her. Yet he kept telling himself he just needed her boat, needed her presence for the great escape from Mexico. That was all.

  "So what brings you to Mexico all the way from El Paso, Jake? Vacation? And why—"

  His fingertips brushed her lips. "Please, quiet. I'll explain. But it's . . ." He paused and shook his head. "I'm here because my aunt is dying."

  "Your aunt is Mexican?"

  "No. My aunt married a wealthy Mexican man several years ago. Guido Avuela owned export businesses with offices and shops in five countries, three in the U.S. alone. It's a big business. Guido died about five years ago, and my aunt has been running the company ever since. Now, though, she is ill, and the doctors say she doesn't have long to live."

  "I'm sorry," Alyse murmured.

  Jake absently trailed his long fingers over the moist stem of the margarita glass and continued slowly. "Aunt Myra is my only family on my mother's side. I'm her only heir. Just me and my children."

  Alyse stiffened and drew a sharp breath. "Your children?"

  "Two. A boy and a girl. I'm divorced."

  "Oh." Alyse took a sip of the margarita and forced herself not to care. Somehow she couldn't imagine Jake as a devoted father. He seemed more like one of Bristol's characters, a rake and a rambler with no responsibilities except to himself.

  "And
you, Alyse? Divorced?" He hoped so. It could be pretty messy if she were married.

  "Yes, divorced a couple of years."

  "Kids?"

  She shook her head. "Go on with your story, Jake. What are you doing here? Not sitting by Aunt Myra's dying bedside."

  He took a deep breath. She obviously didn't believe that part of the story.

  "Aunt Myra knows she's dying and wants to give us as much inheritance as possible. However, her late husband's family—it's hard for me to think of them as family since we're thrown together only by this marriage—wait like vultures for her death."

  "You won't be taking over the business?"

  "No way. Guido's nephew has worked for the company for years. He'll take it. But that's fine with me. I just want to receive what's mine and go back home."

  "And the family won't let you?"

  They paused for their plates of savory, steaming fish nestled in tomatoes and green chilies and rice.

  "Oh, I could probably slip it past the family. But the Mexican government is giving me fits." Jake lowered his voice to a raspy rumble. "As you probably know, there's a limit on how much a foreigner can take out of this country. Frankly, if I stayed within that limit, it would hardly be worth my effort. Certainly it isn't even near my aunt's worth. Now all Aunt Myra wants is to give my children her finest gifts, assets that would educate them and give them a good start in life."

  "Money?"

  He nodded his blond, shaggy head. "We moved the money to a US bank. But there's valuable Mexican art. And her jewelry. It's not really that much. All of it could be carried or hidden easily."

  "Hidden on my boat?"

  Jake took a few bites. "To be honest, my little boot business in El Paso hasn't done very well in the last few years. Profits are down, and the larger companies are making it difficult for the small guys. Same old story. Then I almost lost the whole thing last year after my divorce settlement. Had to borrow heavily, and I'm still struggling to make it. My debts are large, and without help I don't see any way out. Now, suddenly, here's the help I need from Aunt Myra. It would set me on my feet again and protect my children's futures."

  "But only if you can slip it past the Mexican authorities and get back to the U.S."

  "Yes."

  "And you want to use my boat."

  "Can't you see why I need it?" Jake leaned forward on the table, his dark eyes intense. "I'll admit that I want this money, but I deserve it. Oh, hell, those are Aunt Myra's words, not mine. We're very close. She. . . she was always such a strong, assertive woman. You can just imagine, if she married a foreign man, then ran his business for years after his death. Her illness has been tragic, such a blow to me. But she's realistic and has faced it with typical courage. Amazing woman, my aunt Myra. She wants to be in charge of her money after her death. Her last wish is to give as much as possible to her American family. I just want to fulfill her last wish."

  "Does courage run in the family, Jake?"

  "Courage, yes." He smiled wryly. "Ability to turn a buck, no. I'm still learning."

  "Somehow I have the feeling you're as good with money as your aunt. I wonder if she's as persuasive as you are."

  He grinned. "She isn't as creative. Actually I figured how to make this work only the other day when I saw you and your boyfriend arguing."

  Alyse cringed inside when he linked her so intimately with Evan. But she let Jake continue without commenting on the man who'd come to Mexico with her.

  "And I decided right away that he was a fool for arguing with such a beautiful woman and that you were as much a fool for letting him manipulate you like that. Obviously you were upset yesterday on the beach when he left. Then it occurred to me that you needed someone to help you get that cruiser back home. And I need a way to get my stuff home."

  Alyse smiled knowingly. "And you thought you could take his place at the helm. And possibly somewhere else? Like the bed?"

  He lifted his palms. "Never said that."

  "Um-hum. Are you sure you didn't send Evan off on the ferry?"

  He grinned with a devilish gleam in his dark eyes. "I would have gladly paid his passage if he hadn't done it himself."

  "At least you're willing to admit it."

  "I realized that sailing with you would be a job I'd relish."

  "I'll bet." She scoffed and cast him a scornful look.

  Jake's hand closed over her wrist like a warm vise. "Look, Alyse, kidding aside. This is strictly business. I need you. You need me. We work together on this, and both of us will come out ahead. I guarantee. I told you there's money in it for you."

  Alyse felt the heated pressure of his hand clamped around her wrist and knew her pulse throbbed against him. She couldn't control the raging going on inside her. "I wouldn't do it just for the money, Jake."

  "For what then? For my kids?"

  She smiled coldly. "You're thinking if I have a heart, I'll do it for your kids? Don't underestimate me, Jake."

  "Wouldn't think of it." His hand slid upward on her forearm. "What's your price, lady? What would it take to tempt you to do this?"

  "If I decide to, I'll do it for me, not for you, Jake Bronson."

  "Don't you have a heart, Alyse?"

  "Hey, I'm a pushover when it comes to animals and kids. But this—this is one strange story, Jake." She scraped her chair back and stood up, sliding her arm from his easy grasp. The play of his callus-roughened hand over her smooth skin sent a quake of delightful apprehension through her. "I'll let you know."

  "This is very important to me, Alyse. I need your help. But it requires your complete cooperation. And silence. Don't tell a soul, or we could both end up in jail."

  She nodded, then turned to leave.

  He tucked several bills beside his plate and followed her out of the restaurant. "Okay, so think about it. But my aunt is dying. And my time in this country is limited. When she's gone, I have to be out of here."

  Alyse walked down the street, and the gentle night breeze off the bay swirled around her. "Don't rush me."

  Jake watched her long legs take strides away from him. God! Those legs! He caught up with her. "What will it take, Alyse? I offered you ten thou. More?"

  She turned to face him. "Your money means nothing to me, Jake. I just don't like the feeling I'm being used."

  He gripped her elbows and drew her closer to his taut body. "And I don't like being at a woman's mercy, but I'm honest about that. In this case, neither of us has a choice."

  The evening breeze tossed a strand of dark hair across her eyes, and he spontaneously reached for it and brushed the hair back from her face. His hand felt coarse against the silkiness of her complexion. Strong yet purposefully tender. Alyse gazed up into his deep dark eyes. She felt sure they held secrets he wasn't revealing to her. And promised mystery that stirred up her curiosity. And excitement that was lacking in her life.

  "We always have a choice, Jake."

  "Then don't make the wrong one, Alyse. You set the ground rules. I'll comply." He felt as though he was begging, and he hated it. Could she tell how desperate he was? Could she that if she didn't make the right choice, he'd use her boat anyway? With her or without her.

  Alyse could feel herself falling into his masculine trap and. She wanted to say yes right now. But something sensible inside made her move away from his magnetic aura. "I told you I'll have to think about it, Jake. I'll let you know."

  He followed her. "If not money, then what do you want to get out of this?"

  "I just want to make sure I come out okay. Safely."

  He laughed and caught up with her. He took her arm as he walked beside her. "Alyse Skye, you're more like me than I thought! Both of us are thinking of ourselves first. I like that. It means we're safe together." He draped an arm over her bare shoulder. "Would you like to go somewhere else tonight? For drinks and maybe a little night dancing?"

  Suddenly she was alarmed at his tone, his frank words. Were they alike? She didn't think so. Even though she thought he wa
s exciting, she felt the need to back away and evaluate what he'd proposed. What was it about this golden man who intrigued her. "No, thank you, Jake. I've had enough to drink tonight. And I have a lot to consider. Just walk with me back to the Skye Command."

  They strolled along the shoreline in silence, like any American couple in Mexico. Distant laughter and lively music wafted invitingly to them. When they reached the pier, they could hear only the soft, sucking sounds of tiny waves lapping at the nearby boats. It was an enticing sound, a gentle tugging at the senses. Their shoes clacked on the wooden wharf, sometimes together, sometimes at odds.

  Stopping before the Skye Command, Alyse held her breath. Should she agree right now to his bizarre plan? Or was it too risky? She looked up into his dark eyes, searching for answers.

  Jake's eyes explored hers for only a split second, then clouded with bold desire. He knew only that he wanted this woman, had wanted her since he'd first set eyes on her. But she wasn't his to take. Not yet. Not now. He could ruin it all. . . .

  Maybe… just one kiss . . . His lips lowered to taste hers, softness-to-softness, warmth-to-warmth. He held himself back from gripping her fiercely and penetrating her mouth as he wanted to do. It was just a touch, nothing more. The vibrant blending was brief, merely a sweet kiss that lasted a few moments. It was just a morsel of her, a temptation he could barely resist.

  This woman was different. He could sense it. Although nothing had transpired between them, his wild and active imagination was thrown into overdrive. She rocked his entire body with one kiss. He was tense all over and wasn't sure how to react.

  For that brief moment Alyse allowed the kiss. She had expected it from the look in his eyes. She knew he desired her. What she didn't expect was her own reaction to him. She wanted to part her lips for him, to invite his invasion. Her breasts ached with a sudden surge, and she wanted to arch against him, to feel his muscular body engulfing hers.

  But she didn't dare.

  He kissed her again. This time his tongue edged her lips, moistening them and teasing them open. Her tongue played against his momentarily, then gave way. Slowly, deliberately, he entered her lips, receded, then probed further. His hands cradled her face, and he murmured, "Oh, God, Alyse. . ."