Just Trust Me, A Brother's Best Friend Novel (Carrington Cousins Book 2)

by Amy Summers

  Just Trust Me

  Carrington Cousins

  Amy Summers

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  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

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  Also by Amy Summers

  The Carringtons Chronicles

  About the Author

  Just Until Morning Preview

  Chapter 1

  The phone call came at the worst possible time.

  The small cafe was almost empty. Only beautiful, provocative Mia was lingering, flirting with David for all she was worth.

  A guy couldn't help but feel flattered.

  The afternoon stretched out ahead of him, long and pleasantly full of possibilities.

  It had already been a long day. Restaurant work was an interesting change from his usual career, but it wasn't exactly relaxing. He could use a break. And lovely Mia with her long red hair and her full red lips seemed ideal for the task.

  They'd been eyeing each other for almost a week and a half, ever since he'd arrived in Puerto Vallarta for his yearly visit. The first two weeks of January were his time and they were almost up. If anything was going to come of this, it was time to make a move.

  He'd been hesitating. Funny. That was hardly like him. He was a man who liked women. In other years, his visits to this Mexican seacoast resort had been crammed full of romance. This time the girls who had hung around, giggling and batting eyelashes at him, had seemed suddenly young and silly. He'd found himself spending the late evenings talking into the night with Rosa, the middle-aged waitress who'd worked here for twenty-five years, instead of whispering sweet nothings into young, shell-like ears.

  But tonight was going to be different. Mia was beautiful. She didn't giggle. Her green eyes flashed with promises of erotic danger and her glances fairly burned with sensual heat. This was a little too much to resist. And he'd never been a martyr.

  David put down the stack of dirty plates he was carrying, pulled off the apron and sat down at the table with his tantalizing visitor, laughing at something she'd said. She eyed him with a sultry look.

  "I do too have a tattoo there," she claimed archly. "Want to see?"

  Did he want to see? David grinned. This was better. He was getting in the mood, all right. "I've always been a patron of the arts," he said. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

  Mia was reaching for the elastic neckline of her cotton blouse, when the world put in its own claim with the annoying ring of the telephone. David glanced at Mia, who was already baring one very lovely shoulder and about to go for more, and then he looked at the telephone.

  Every male instinct he possessed told him to ignore the call and reach for Mia instead. Yet there was something especially insistent about this ringing. It was one of those crucial moments on which the rest of his life might hinge. The lady or the tiger. Instant gratification or destiny.

  He never could figure out what made him go for the phone.

  "Just a second," he told Mia, rising from his chair and turning toward the counter where the old-fashioned black telephone sat. "Hold that thought."

  Mia pouted, but he picked up the receiver, anyway.

  "Hello?" he said impatiently.

  The feminine voice on the other end of the line was smoky, whispery, like silk and candlelight, and it got his attention right away.

  "David Coronado?"

  His eyes narrowed. She sounded like a femme fatale from an old detective movie. "Yes?"

  "Is this the David Coronado who was stationed in Germany with Russ Carrington ten years ago?"

  His hand tightened on the receiver. The voice was mesmerizing, and yet there was a sense of tension in it that set the hair up on the back of his neck. "Yes," he said quickly. "Who's this?"

  "Oh, I'm so glad I found you."

  He was glad, too, but he had to know more. "Who are you?"

  "David, you don't know me, but I have to ask a favor…"

  A man's voice sounded in the room where she was speaking from, and she gasped softly, whispered "Oh, no!" and the line went dead.

  David stood for a moment with the receiver pressed to his ear, as though she might come back if he only waited long enough. Someone had come up behind her and either frightened her into hanging up or...

  "David."

  Mia was calling him. He turned and looked at her, his eyes blank. The prospect of playing hide-and-seek for Mia's tattoos had suddenly lost its former appeal. His mind was consumed with the call he'd just received.

  Who was she? She had to know Russ. He and Russ had been army buddies, but that had been years ago. Why had she called? What had just happened to her?

  All he could think about was that incredibly sensual voice. It filled his head. He'd felt it as much as heard it. And somehow he was sure she would be calling back.

  Making an excuse, he bid Mia and her tattoo an urgent farewell, and shooed her out the door. She left, but she wasn’t happy about it and he pretty much accepted that he’d probably ruined that friendly connection.

  His mind still on the call, he went about the business of setting up for the evening meal. The café was homey and old-fashioned, just like Maya and Eduardo, his grandparents who owned the place. Every year at this time he came down from San Diego to help them out, give them some time to escape on vacation for a couple of weeks. This year they were visiting friends in Guadalajara while he was slinging hash—or rather frijoles—back here in Puerto Vallarta.

  The cafe was a favorite of the locals, though far removed from the flashier tourist trade down by the beach. David enjoyed coming every year. It was a change of pace from Southern California.

  But he wasn't thinking about that now. His attention was all on the silent telephone.

  "Ring," he ordered aloud. "Ring, damn you."

  And it did.

  He lunged for it.

  "Hello. David?"

  A current went through him at the sound of her voice. What was it about this woman?

  "Yes, this is David. What happened? Are you all right?"

  "I'm fine." She was whispering, so she was obviously still in danger, wherever she was.

  "Who are you?" he asked impatiently.

  "I'm Russ Carrington's sister, Madison."

  "Madison." So that was the connection. He recognized the name, but he couldn't put a face to it. "Have we ever met?"

  "No. But Russ has talked about you for years. And when he found out I was coming down here to Puerto Vallarta, he didn’t have your cell phone number, but he had the number where he thought you were staying, just in case…”

  "In case you needed help?" His fingers curled around the receiver. Russ's sister needed help. He would do anything for Russ, so naturally, he would do anything for his sister. More to the point, he would do anything for a woman with a voice like that.

  "Where are you? Do you want me to come and get you? Are you in trouble?"

  "I... I'm sort of trapped here."

  That was what he'd been afraid of. Someone had her somewhere she didn't want to be. No matter. He'd take care of it.

  "Where? Give me an address and I'll be right over."

  "No." Her voice rose a
bit. "Oh, no, that wouldn't work. It would only make things worse.''

  He frowned. "What things? What's he doing to you?"

  "I... David, not so fast. I didn't say anyone was doing anything to me."

  "I heard a man's voice. And you say you're trapped."

  Her sigh was as lovely as her words. "I have to handle this on my own."

  He didn't like the sound of that. "Madison, I want to help you, but if you won't tell me where you are..."

  She was laughing softly. "David, you're just as nice as I knew you would be."

  Nice? His head went back and he flexed his wide shoulders. He didn't want to be nice. He wanted to be tough and mean and slay a dragon for her. That voice. He knew she was beautiful. He could hear it.

  "Where are you?" he demanded roughly.

  "Never mind that. I just want to know if I can count on you. I think I can get away tonight, but it will be late. Where will you be?"

  "Right here. I'm staying in an apartment above a cafe." He quickly gave her the address. "It's up the hill from the Playa del Oro, in the residential section."

  "Then it's not far from the marina."

  "Just a few blocks." He frowned. "Is that where you are, at the marina?"

  "Never mind that. I'll find you."

  He didn't like this, but she wasn't going to give. "I'll leave the outside entrance unlocked."

  She paused. "Will that be safe?" she asked.

  "Of course. Puerto Vallarta is a nice, friendly town."

  "Is it?" Her voice was wistful. "I guess I haven't seen that side of it."

  Adrenaline was coursing through him. Someone had been hurting her somehow, and he wanted that person to pay. At the same time he had to laugh at himself. He'd never met the woman face to face, and he wanted to be her protector. This was crazy.

  "Do you have a way to get here? A car?"

  "I'll take care of that. Don't worry." She paused as though listening for something, and when she spoke again, her voice was muffled, as though she'd put her hand over the mouthpiece. "Thanks, David. You're a lifesaver."

  The way she said his name gave him goose bumps. "Madison, tell me where you are," he urged. "If something happens..."

  "I can't tell you, David." Her voice lowered to a sexy whisper that almost made him writhe. "Wait for me. I'll be late, but I'll be there."

  And she was gone.

  David felt as though he'd been running hard and needed to catch his breath. He hung up slowly and stared into space. Madison Carrington. Funny how names from the past came back to haunt you.

  Her brother Russ had been his best buddy in the army. Ten years ago, the two of them had explored Germany together, the landmarks as well as the nightlife. And when they'd shipped back to the States, Russ had invited him up to his family's house in the Hamptons for a few days.

  David had had no idea what to expect. He'd known Russ's family had to be well-off from things he'd observed and the schools Russ had gone to. But he'd been stunned by what he'd found himself in the midst of—polo ponies, benefits for the ballet, portraits of famous American patriots from the Revolutionary War among the family tree, heads of major industries over for tennis on the family courts, politicians he'd seen on the evening news dropping by for dinner. The East Coast Carringtons were big-time and old money. The longer he'd stayed, the smaller and stranger he'd felt. He'd been in alien territory, and he didn't know the language.

  He'd left as soon as he could escape, and despite other invitations, he never went back. But it hadn't taken long for his relationship with Russ to get back its warmth. They still kept in touch. In fact, Russ made it a point to drop by and see him at least once a year, when he was in California on business. They would always be friends. But David knew that could only work on neutral ground. The Carringtons were just too exalted a family for him to stomach.

  And now their daughter was coming to him for help. Madison—thinking hard he could remember a few things Russ had said about her now and then. Wasn't she married to some wealthy Greek tycoon? He'd had the impression that the marriage hadn't lasted. But never having met Madison, anything Russ might have said about her hadn't stuck in his mind. He had some vague idea that she'd always been regarded as something of a frivolous bubblehead. But that didn't describe the woman he'd been talking to on the telephone.

  What was she running from? He supposed he would find out soon enough. He only wished he had been able to find out where she was. He didn't like the idea of her trying to get here by herself. But he didn't have much choice in the matter now. All he could do was wait.

  Luckily, he had Rosa to keep him company.

  Rosa Sanchez had worked as a waitress in David's grandparents' restaurant since before he could remember. She was like an aunt to him. And she treated him like her favorite charitable cause.

  "Querido," she announced as she flounced into the cafe a short time before the dinner hour. "I have found the girl for you."

  Looking up from the salmon filets he was slicing, David groaned. "Again?"

  She posed, looking at him reproachfully, her huge gold earrings swaying. "No, this time she is perfect. She's educated, cultured, and so very, very pretty."

  David grinned. He'd been here before. "And she's also your cousin, right?"

  She shrugged grandly. "Of course. I have many cousins, my dear." Rosa started to fill the salt shakers, but she kept right on talking as she worked. "She's a legal secretary on a consulting basis. She works with the most powerful lawyers and businessmen in town. She speaks three languages fluently."

  Naturally. All the women Rosa found for him were paragons of virtue. "And is incredibly beautiful," David supplied helpfully.

  Rosa stopped and placed a hand over her heart. "I swear on my sainted mother's head, she is gorgeous."

  David grinned. "Your idea of gorgeous doesn't always coincide with mine. Remember the bald trapeze artist?"

  Rosa shook her head balefully. "Who knew, sweetheart? When I met her, she wore a wig."

  David shrugged, and she went on.

  "Anyway, she is gorgeous, and her body is still good, too, even after the three kids...."

  He reacted to that one. "Whoa, wait a minute. Three kids?"

  "But don't you see, that is what is so perfect. She's not one of these flighty young things like these girls that hang around here every afternoon during siesta, trying to tempt you into doing naughty things."

  He pretended to be shocked. "Rosa!"

  She tossed her dark, curling hair and looked at him grimly. "I know what goes on. Do you think I'm blind? No, Sandra is not like those girls. She's mature, she's seen the world—"

  "She's divorced."

  Rosa hesitated. "Not exactly. Her husband has...sort of disappeared. And she has these three lovely children...."

  David packed away the filets and turned to survey the cafe, mentally going over the checkpoints, making sure things were prepared for the opening, which was only moments away. The counter was clean, the salsa servers and taco sauce jars refilled. Fresh blossoms from his grandmother's rose garden decorated every one of the five little tables. Everything looked just as his grandparents would want it to, just as it had looked for all the years he could remember.

  "Well, she's already broken my number-one rule," he drawled in an aside to Rosa, grinning as he passed behind her and dropped a kiss on her cheek. "No kids."

  Rosa reached for her apron. It was almost time to unlock the door. She'd been doing this for so many years, she could sense the time and didn't even have to look at a clock. "But only one actually lives with her," she went on cajoling earnestly. "The other two are in reform school…”

  David burst into laughter. "Rosa! Reform school? You want to saddle me with a woman whose kids are already in reform school?"

  She gazed at him dolefully, shaking her head. "Hijo, you're becoming hard and cold and selfish." She shook her finger at him. "In other words, a typical bachelor."

  "The hard and selfish I can agree with," he muttered more
to himself than to her as he started toward the front door. "But cold—" his mouth twisted as he thought of Madison's voice and its effect on him "—no, I don't think so."

  Rosa wasn't giving up quite yet. "But just think," she called after him. "If you marry Sandra, your future is assured. You won't have to go back to San Diego. You can stay here, take over the café when your grandparents retire…”

  He turned back, laughing. "So we finally get down to it. This is all a plot to solidify your own job security. Is that it?"

  She turned away proudly, disdaining to answer such an absurd charge. But she turned back and watched him as he went to the door, unlocked it and greeted the first customers of the evening. For all their comfortable bantering, she did worry about him. She loved him like one of her own. She could still remember the wary, guarded child who used to come to stay with his grandparents every summer, the boy who was warm and loving to those who knew him best, but cocky and arrogant to the outside world. He hadn't been too many steps away from reform school himself, now and then.

  He was different now—handsome, successful and self-assured with his dark eyes and his wide shoulders. The bloodlines of his ancestors, Aztecs and Castilians, Kansas pioneers and Irish horsemen, all combined to produce a man as strong and noble as any she'd ever seen. But every now and then she got a glimpse of something that reminded her of that scared little boy. He still lived inside David, somewhere deep and hidden.

  "What he needs is a good woman," she murmured, watching him laugh with two pretty young things as he showed them to a table. "Why won't he let himself fall in love?"

  Chapter 2

  The evening seemed to drag like no other evening he'd ever endured. He spent more time looking at the clock than preparing meals. Rosa had to remind him twice about a certain double order of ceviche.