Alyse padded back to the bed, stripped off everything, feeling the sexiest she ever had in her life, and crawled into bed alone. Jake still didn't come. She sighed audibly.
Lying there in the darkness, she wondered what was preoccupying Jake. What was he watching so intently through those binoculars? Was he searching for something? Or someone? In the back of her mind she couldn't help wondering if it had anything to do with her.
When he finally joined her between the cool sheets, her doubts about the two of them were allayed. Alyse had been dozing and was startled awake to find his arms wrapped around her. He pulled her to him with such fierceness, she realized she was his harbor of safety for the moment, perhaps for the night. His kisses were breathless and filled with fire. His embrace was strong and relentless; his passion, immediate and burning.
Responding with her heart, Alyse opened her arms to him. She pressed him close and murmured words of love and affection. She wanted this man with all her heart and soul, wanted his love. And she wanted to return the beautiful gift. Wanted to give him supreme satisfaction. Wanted to possess him with every ounce of energy she had.
She received him eagerly, taking pleasure in the fact that he sought her refuge and that she could give it. He needed her, and she somehow knew that was the only way she could hold on to him. If he needed her.
She rocked with him, clinging tightly and praying he would never leave her. The pleasures she had experienced today with Jake surpassed a lifetime, and she thought she could never again live without him. And she didn't even want to try. He was everything for her: masculine; exciting; sexy; mysterious. A man easy for her to love, to remember always.
The mounting foray rapidly grew to frenzy until he held back no longer and, with a low moan, erupted into her.
"Oh, Alyse . . . precioso."
"Jake, Jake," she murmured softly. "I. . . love. . . you." As she held him in the night, long after he was asleep snuggled against her breast, Alyse wondered if it was possible to love a man so quickly. But she already knew the answer.
Sleep took them. At some point he was pulling her up. Shaking her gently. "Alyse! Alyse! Wake up!"
She slumped against him, her nudity poignant and erotic to him. He remembered how she had taken all he offered last night, taken and begged for more. Oh, God, what was he doing to this lovely creature?
"Alyse, wake up!"
"Hmm" She clasped her arms around his waist, and he unhooked them. He shook her again, rudely this time.
"Dammit, Alyse! Wake up!"
Her blue eyes parted slightly, then opened wider. Jake was fully dressed. And he was trying to haul her across the room. Why was he being so rough with her? "Jake? What do you want?"
"Come on, honey. Wake up!"
"Jake, what is it?"
"We've got to go!"
"What? Go where?"
"We must leave La Paz."
"Why?"
"Now is the time. Get your clothes on immediately." He pushed her onto the bed and threw into her lap a wad of material that she recognized as her clothes.
Automatically she started pulling them on, protesting all the while. Outside she could hear vague noises. "I'd like to know what the hell is going on, Jake."
"We're leaving right away. My aunt's taken a turn for the worse and we've got to get out of here. When you get dressed, meet me downstairs. Make it quick!" Then he was gone.
She dressed with shaky hands and, before departing, glanced around the modest room where they'd made love so passionately. The bed was still rumpled, and she was embarrassed to leave it like that. But Jake was demanding that they leave immediately. And she was curious as hell about what was happening.
Alyse darted down the hall and nearly ran into the young Mexican maid.
"Sorry. I guess I'm still half-asleep, Lena."
"Sí, señorita."
Alyse stopped. Lena looked quite shaken, and she felt obliged to say something to the stricken girl. "Qué pasa, Lena? Is it La Dueña? Is she dying?"
Lena looked curiously at her. " Qué?"
"La Dueña. I'm so sorry."
"No se, señorita. I do not know."
"La Duena. You know, the American woman who owns this place."
"There is no duena, señorita. Señor Emilio has no wife."
"No! I'm talking about the older lady, the American who owns the hacienda!" Alyse felt a growing agitation with the young girl.
"So sorry, señorita. There is no dueña aquí, señorita."
Dumbfounded, Alyse stared at the girl. She heard a rumbling in the hall, and Jake was racing toward her. He grabbed her arm and jerked her along.
"Come on! We don't have a minute to spare!"
"Jake, what's this all about?" Alyse felt a moment's panic. Why didn't anyone make sense?
"I told you. We're going." He took her hand and they ran down the stairs and out the entranceway. He pushed her into the backseat of the car and jumped in beside her. "Vamos!" he instructed Emilio, who was at the wheel.
Frantically she gasped for free breath. "Jake? Wait a minute! Things aren't right here. Your aunt—"
"Shhh," he said, and pushed her down to the floorboard. "Don't make a sound, Alyse. It's crucial." He lay on top of her as they wound down the narrow mountain road.
Alyse obeyed him, but only because she could hardly get her breathe.
CHAPTER EIGHT
When they arrived at the wharf, Jake hefted himself off her and lifted Alyse out of the car.
She held her head and squinted at her surroundings to get her bearings. "What a ride! What's going on here, Jake? Oh God, I'm dizzy!"
"No time for that now." He thrust a duffel bag and small wooden box into her hands. "You take these, Alyse, while we get the paintings."
"What is this?" She examined the cassette-size, intricately carved walnut box. The designs were typically Mexican with Mayan gods and stylized sun faces etched into the dark wood. It was the kind of box in which a family would keep small treasures, perhaps typical of what an older lady might use for jewelry. Alyse ran her finger around the wooden ridges and studied Jake's expression.
"The inheritance," he said as his eyes scanned the area. His thoughts were obviously elsewhere. "Jewelry and a few coins, remember? Come on, Alyse. Hurry, hurry."
Alyse gathered her wits. Could he lie to her that easily? Before they went any farther, on any other crazy rides, she would demand to know what had happened. She stood immovable, ready to do battle. "Okay, Jake, your game's up. I have discovered there's no sick aunt at the villa. So how could there be any inheritance? I don't know what all this stuff is or where it's from, but if you think I'm going to get myself involved in some dangerous drug ring or theft of any kind, you're crazy!"
"This is no drug ring," he said, taking the other end of the box of rolled canvases along with Emilio. The two began moving it down the length of the pier.
Alyse followed and noticed that Jake wore the paisley shirt, beige shorts, and tennis shoes. He was ready to put out to sea. "Look, Jake, if this stuff is stolen, I want no part of it."
The men ignored her and moved with purpose toward the Skye Command.
She tagged along, feeling like a kid sister trying to get her brother's attention. "Hold it, Jake. Did you hear what I said? I don't want you loading that thing on my—"
Jake's voice barked at her. "Keep it down, Alyse."
She caught up with him, her voice scared and shaky. "Jake, I'm not going through with this. I don't know what it's all about. And I demand to know before you step aboard my boat."
The men showed no inclination to obey her futile objections.
Alyse continued after them. "Now, wait just a minute! Jake?"
They had reached the Skye Command and were easing their precious cargo aboard, completely ignoring her commands.
"Jake, get off my boat with all this. . . whatever it is! I mean it. I won't haul contraband, even for you."
He looked up briefly as they skirted along the narrow part of the
deck on the starboard side. "If you intend to go with your ship, Alyse, you'd better shut up and climb aboard."
Damn him. He was threatening her with her own boat! Just who did he think he was anyway? Hurriedly she followed as the two approached the aft cockpit. "Jake Bronson, I'll call the police if you don't stop. I mean it."
The threat grabbed his immediate attention. His mockingly sweet tone was definitely forced, though. "Alyse, mi preciosa, trust me. I'll explain later." He winked and kept going.
She followed. "Jake, I found out there's no aunt. There is no one dying. No one is in a coma. There is no physician. I don't even know who the villa belongs to, but it isn't your family. That means all this inheritance malarkey is a lie. There probably aren't even any kids in your life. Everything you've told me is a lie. You didn't get this stuff from a relative, so where did you get it? And why are you so interested in taking it all back? And why are you scared of the police? And why—"
Before she could finish her tirade of questions, Jake had left Emilio with the heavy box propped on the aft rail. He grabbed her arm and jerked her against him. "Can it, Alyse. We'll talk about this later. Right now I just want to get this stuff aboard and shove off."
"I think I have a right to know what you're up to. Especially when it involves me and my brother's boat," she said through clenched teeth.
"Cool it, Alyse. I will tell you everything, later." He gave her a sturdy push ahead of him and steered her toward the companionway. The impetus forced her down the wooden ladder, and she stumbled into the semi-dark cabin interior.
The men followed her down and settled the large box in the forward cabin near the head.
"Dammit, Jake! Don't think you can push me around!" Alyse regained her footing and raged at him with a touch of contempt. "Jake, I mean it. I won't be involved in anything illegal. Or whatever you're doing."
Emilio edged toward the ladder and gestured to the cockpit. "I'll wait up here. Rapido, amigo."
Jake turned an enraged face toward her. "None of this is illegal contraband or drugs, Alyse. Trust me."
She drew herself up straight. "Trust you? Why should I? So far everything you've told me has been a lie. How could you, Jake?"
"Not everything." He made a futile motion with his hand as if he would touch her, but he didn't. "Look, no more questions now. We don't have time. I'll explain later."
Emilio called from the aft deck, "Vamos, Jake. It's getting late."
Jake hesitated for a moment, his brown eyes catching hers with a pleading gleam. "Stow these things for me, Alyse. Hide the box, please." He scaled the ladder quickly.
Alyse stood frozen for a few minutes, confused, scared, and angry. What was Jake up to? Should she believe him? Trust him? Why did he want to leave so suddenly? This whole movement was so unexpected; they didn't even have any supplies. There was hardly enough drinking water to last one day.
She looked down at her hands. She was grasping the simple wooden box and duffel bag with clenched, white-knuckled fists. What was in the box? If there wasn't an aunt, there were no family jewels. Then where did they come from? Stolen perhaps? Or were they really investments, a way of hiding money to bring into the States?
She slumped down on a bench and tried to open the box, but it was locked. Where would he stash the key? She unzipped the duffel bag and feverishly rummaged through its contents. Inside were Jake's new purchases, the cotton shirts and shorts she'd helped him choose. One pair of worn jeans. Underwear. No western shirts. Nothing that would connect him to the cowboy image. In her hands was Jake's new wardrobe. His new identity . . .
Then a thought occurred to her. Why would he need a new identity? Perhaps he was harboring that deserter he and Emilio were discussing that night under the balcony. She clasped her hand to her mouth. Oh, dear God, what if had she fallen into the clutches of someone working against the government, helping a deserter escape? But why would he do that?
And she actually thought she cared for him. Thought she might even love the man!
She could hear Jake and Emilio talking on deck. They exchanged terse, clipped words. Then she heard a new, alarming sound. The engine! She jumped up, and the duffel bag dropped to the floor, spilling half its contents. But the wooden box was still in her hands.
She cast around the tight, built-in cabin, looking frantically for a hiding place. Oh, dear God, they were moving! She grabbed her pillow and tucked the box away on her bed. By the time she scaled the few ladder steps through the companionway to the aft cockpit and stumbled up to the fly bridge, it was barely daylight and they were chugging out of the harbor.
Jake stood at the helm and steered them carefully between the boats anchored in the harbor. He had the cocky appearance of a seasoned yachtsman with his yellow visor cap, gold paisley shirt, beige shorts, and tennis shoes, worn barefoot. He certainly looked the role of a seafaring man. His new identity. Even the beard was part of the new image. She was sure he'd grown it specifically to camouflage the old Jake. But why?
A twinge of apprehension rose up inside her. Who was he? Where was he going? And why had he involved her?
This man has lied to me. And I, like a naive child, believed him. What kind of mess am I in? A lump grew in her throat.
Apprehensively Alyse approached him. "Jake, where are we going?" They'd be out of the harbor soon. And on their way to freedom.
He looked away from her and squinted thoughtfully at the horizon. "Beautiful morning, isn't it, Darling? Going to be a great day for a cruise down the Sea of Cortes. Just like the pirates, looking for gold and pearls."
She moved closer to him. "Please tell me what this is all about, Jake."
"Think we can make it all the way to San Jose del Cabo today?" He scanned the coast with an experienced air.
"Jake, don't involve me in this crazy scheme of yours."
He reached for her and drew her close beside him. "Don't you want to go with me, baby? And I thought you were enjoying my company." He tucked her hand intimately on his thigh.
She moved it. "Let me off now, Jake, before you go any farther! You can take the Skye Command. "
He turned to face her, his brown eyes intense. Did she also see a touch of regret? "Afraid it's too late to back out now, my pet. I need you here with me."
"Is that it? You need to use me?" She knotted her fists. What should she do now? She was being taken captive on her own boat!
She started to turn away, but Jake's arm lashed out and grabbed her. He pulled her close to his chest. With his arm wrapped cozily around her shoulders, he repeated, "You're going to have to trust me, Alyse."
"Why should I? Who are you, Jake Bronson? Just who the hell are you?"
"I will tell you all my secrets in due time." He kissed her nose, then dropped his lips to hers.
The kiss was brief but filled with the electrical current that had sparked between them from the beginning. She felt the magnetism, the power of the man. And she knew she was lost in his aura. One kiss, and she was almost ready to sway into his arms.
"Please don't do this," she whispered, her face still turned up to his.
"I must." His whole body seemed to shudder in a sigh. He was tense but unrelenting. They were leaving—and together. That was all that mattered.
"Jake—"
"Not now, Alyse. We'll have plenty of time for explanations later. Right now it's important to get out of here without incident."
A strange sweetness lingered on her lips, and she pondered the act of betrayal in a kiss. She watched as Jake's strong hands gripped the wheel and steered them safely and securely into the open waterway that led to the Sea of Cortes.
It occurred to her that this was perhaps her best chance at escape. They weren't going at full cruising speed yet. She could simply jump ship and swim ashore. As she watched the shoreline disappear, it occurred to her that she might not be able to swim that far. It was at least a mile and growing rapidly. But what would happen to her if she went along? Was she safe with Jake? Was her sense of secu
rity with him merely a false impression? Along with all the other false impressions she had of Jake?
Even with her many unanswered questions, all her doubts about him, Alyse stayed on board. Maybe she wanted to stick around for the answers. Maybe she just wanted to be with him a little while longer. Maybe she was too damn curious about the man. She watched Jake work and realized there was something about him that made her trust him. Just a little. Not his words but his actions, his body.
Last night his body had told her he loved her. That was all she had to cling to, but it was a memory that she wanted to keep in her heart forever.
As they moved past the last ship in the harbor the Skye Command lurched forward, quickly reaching full speed. She clutched the bridge railing and watched the shoreline as they passed familiar sights.
Pichilinque Bay, where they served what Jake was convinced was the best shrimp tacos in town. How could she dismiss the fun and laughter they'd shared as they ate dinner that night on the beach? The large ferry to Guaymas was still in port at Pichilinque, and she gazed at it longingly.
Jake shifted next to her. He must have read her thoughts. "Don't get any wild ideas, Alyse. You could never swim that far."
She cast him an angry glance, then turned away. Was she doomed to make this trip with him? They passed Pelican Rock and Seal Island, where two young seals played together on the rocks.
Farther down the coast they cruised past Balandra Beach, the place they had made love, all alone on the sand. Was that just yesterday? She drew in a shaky breath. Why couldn't things have stayed the same between them? Why did everything have to change so suddenly?
Today Jake wasn't the same man she'd thought he was yesterday. Or last night. He wasn't the same one who'd made love to her on the beach, chased her along the shore, dunked her playfully in the water. This man was hard and determined and almost. . . dangerous. No softness in those brown eyes today. He carried a gun somewhere; she didn't dare ask where. She flicked a tear off her cheek.
"Alyse."
Reluctantly she turned a stiff face to him, and tears filled her eyes again.
A Man to Remember Page 9
