“What happened?” his father asked softly.
“Emily.”
“Is she in danger?”
“Even more so now.”
“All right. Get her out of there and keep a low profile.”
“I don’t have time to take her myself. I need to make sure I’m here at one when the deal goes down in Chicago.”
“Then get her to go on her own. Nothing can happen to her, understand. She’s…family.”
Peter closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. “I know, Dad. Is everything in line in Chicago? That deal going down exactly right could be the only thing that saves this situation.”
“It will go down like clockwork.”
Peter sighed. “At least something is working the way it should.”
“You can salvage this, Peter. I know you can.”
“Maybe, if I didn’t have Emily to worry about. Baltasar ordered a full background check.”
“Get her off that mountain. That’s an order.”
“Whatever it takes, Dad.”
“Go careful out there, son, and make sure you come home in one piece.”
The next morning, Emily lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. She wasn’t sure she wanted to face what the day could bring—Marcos growing sicker, Snake and Esteban constantly lurking about, and Peter… Her mind was well aware of the danger he was facing, the danger he still continued to face on a daily basis. Yet her heart couldn’t forget the way she’d felt when he looked at her, touched her. She still fit neatly into his arms. And his kiss…she sighed as a long ache moved through her.
She wanted him back.
She stared at the plump pillow next to her and wished he were there, but he’d left her alone. With Peter she would always be waiting for him to come home, always wondering if he would. Frustrated with her thoughts, she got out of bed and showered. Dwelling on the past would get her nowhere. It was the future she needed to think about and how they were going to get themselves out of South America.
She plastered a smile on her face and walked into Marcos’s room. For the time being she needed to focus on the boy and not worry about Peter until she saw him again and found out how much danger they were actually in. “Hey there, little man, how are you feeling this morning?” She noticed his breakfast tray still sitting in front of him. “Is something wrong with your food?”
Marcos looked down at his tray, his bottom lip protruding. “No.”
“You need to eat more to keep up your strength.”
He looked up at her. “I know, Dr. Señorita. I’m just not hungry this morning. My stomach is not good.”
Emily nodded, understanding. “Then let’s get you something different to eat.” She picked up the plate of eggs and bacon and walked into the other room. Her heart lurched as she saw Esteban leaning against the wall, leering at her. She squared her shoulders, then thrust the plate into his grasp. “Can you take this back to the kitchen and have the chef make Marcos some hot cereal? Tell him something easy on his stomach.”
Esteban stared at the plate in his hand, then stuck a piece of the bacon in his mouth, and left the room without saying a word. If she was lucky, she could disappear to meet up with Peter before he made it back with the cereal.
She hurried back into Marcos’s room and froze when she saw Baltasar sitting next to his bed. She shook off her alarm and forced herself to look normal, casual, to look like she wasn’t facing a man who could snuff out her life with the snap of his fingers.
“Good morning, Dr. Armstrong,” Baltasar greeted.
“Good morning,” she responded. She smiled, and searched his expression for any sign that he knew about Peter, about them, but she didn’t see anything different in his face. Perhaps they’d been worrying about nothing. She hoped so.
“I sent Esteban to the kitchen to get Marcos some hot cereal. His stomach is a little queasy this morning.”
“Thank you, that was very thoughtful.”
“We all want Marcos to feel better.” She turned to her patient. “After you eat your cereal and rest, how about if you and I take a walk in the gardens?”
“I can?” He turned to his father.
“I think the fresh air will do him good,” Emily added, and fiddled with his monitors to make sure everything was operating properly and to keep her hands from fluttering with nervousness.
“If the doctor thinks it will be good for you, then absolutely you should get some fresh air,” Baltasar said. “In fact, I will join you, bien?”
“You’re on,” Marcos said with more animation than he’d shown a few minutes before.
“I’ll see you at ten, then?” Baltasar asked, and pierced her with one of his cold gazes.
Emily nodded, so much for keeping away from Baltasar and his men. At least she would still have a little time with Peter. If he was where he said he’d be. After Baltasar left, she waited a few minutes for him to make it back to his side of the estate, then gave Marcos’s shoulder a squeeze. “Your cereal should be here any minute. I’m going out for a quick walk, but I’ll be back soon. If you need anything, ring for nurse Marguerite or Dr. Fletcher, bien?”
He gave her a small smile, then held up the remote and clicked on the television. “All right, Dr. Señorita.”
She slipped out the door before Esteban arrived with the cereal and retraced her steps from the day before. Why Peter couldn’t have met her in his cool and comfortable bungalow, she couldn’t fathom. They could be alone there. Maybe he didn’t want to be alone, she thought.
The doubts ate at her as she made her way across the compound. Maybe he didn’t feel the same way she did. No. He was trying to resist her, too—she felt it in his touch and saw it in the way he looked at her. He couldn’t hide his feelings for her any more than she could hide hers from him. His kiss gave him away.
As she moved deeper into the jungle, she slowed on the path, listening for Peter or anything else that might be out there lurking. She was careful to watch where she stepped, but couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by the multitude of large insects. It was so hot she could barely breathe and sweat was dripping down her back. Suddenly, she stopped. Sitting in the middle of an incredibly intricate web was a spider as big as her fist.
Her heart jumped into her throat and her nerves danced a jig up and down her spine. Before she could turn away, someone covered her eyes, blinding her. She took a deep breath, ready to roar with frustration, afraid more than anything to lose sight of that humongous arachnid.
“Shh, it’s only me,” Peter whispered.
“I know it’s only you. Get your hands off me,” she demanded.
He removed his hands and stepped back.
Luckily, the spider was still hanging in the center of its web. She whirled on him. “Why can’t you ever approach me like a rational, sane human being?”
“What, and miss the fun of seeing you all flushed and angry?”
“You really are too much.”
“Yep, way too much for you to handle.”
“Oh yeah?” she challenged and was tempted to lean forward and kiss that smug look right off his face. Then he’d see exactly how much she could handle. Instead she stepped to the other side of the path, keeping the spider in her field of vision. “What did you want?”
“I need to show you something.”
She wasn’t sure she could take anymore. “Tell me it’s close by. There’s no way I’m moving any farther into this jungle.”
“It’s not so bad, once you learn to respect it.”
She looked at the huge, hairy spider and realized she did respect it. A lot. That didn’t mean she wanted to be around it or even know it existed.
He took her hand and led her farther down the path. “The guards pass this way every thirty minutes. Move through here.” He pointed between two large bushes.
“But that’s off the cobblestone path,” she protested as the image of what happened the last time she veered off the path flashed through her mind. She wasn’t anxious for a repeat
visit with any snakes or giant cockroaches. “Besides, there are spiderwebs everywhere.”
“It’s okay. Trust me.” As he said the word, something in his eyes touched her heart. He’d said those words to her before, when they’d been happy and married, and she’d been so afraid he’d get hurt. I’m careful. Nothing will happen. Trust me. And she had. But he’d been wrong, something did happen.
She shook off the painful memories and silently followed him through the bushes, keeping her eyes alert for large, slithering, crawly things in front of her and icky, crunchy things beneath her feet. “I don’t know how you can ever get used to this,” she muttered as she awkwardly made her way through the bushes.
Peter glanced back over his shoulder and smiled. “All this stuff just keeps you on your toes.”
“To say the least. No leisurely strolls back here.”
“Don’t let yourself be fooled by the manicured grounds by the house. There are a lot more dangerous things to worry about around here than snakes and spiders.”
“Like Baltasar?”
“Exactly.”
“Is he a drug lord?”
Peter didn’t respond but stopped in front of the high block wall. He pulled back a blooming vine and revealed a rope ladder. “On the other side of this wall, I’ve stashed a motorcycle. I want you to take it and go back to Caracas and catch the next flight home.”
Disbelief filled her as she stared at him. “You’re not serious?”
“Deadly.”
“You want me to climb this monstrous wall? I’d kill myself when I dropped down on the other side.”
“It’s not that far.”
“I don’t even know how to start a motorcycle, let alone ride one. Then I’m supposed to make my way off this mountain through the jungle without getting lost. All by myself. Are you nuts?” she shrieked.
“You can manage. I have faith in you.”
“Gee, thanks. That makes me feel so much better.”
“I’m serious, Emily. I know it will be hard, but you can do it. What you can’t do is stay here. It’s too dangerous.”
“Somehow I think it’s a lot safer on this side of the wall than on that.” As she gestured toward the wall, she remembered Baltasar’s warning about crocodiles, wild boars and jaguars. “Forget it. There’s no way.”
“This is your life we’re talking about.”
“You can protect me. I have faith in you,” she said, turning his words back on him.
He hesitated, his eyes narrowing. “I can’t protect you and do my job.”
Ah, the real dilemma. Get rid of her so he can focus on what really matters, what really counts—his job. Pain stiffened her spine. “I won’t leave without Robert.”
“Fine, I’ll bring him to you. Climb the ladder and wait on the other side of the wall. You can both fit on the bike.”
“Peter, I won’t go into that jungle. I’d never find my way back to Caracas. I’m not leaving.”
“You can see the ocean from the other side of the wall. Just head toward the sea, then once you get on a main road, follow the signs. You’ll make it.”
“I won’t. I can’t even believe you’re asking me to do this. The Peter I knew would never try and push me to do something I didn’t want to.”
“Or force you to stay if you didn’t want to.”
“What?” She stared at him. Is that why he let her go? Understanding brought a bitter pang of regret.
Emotion flashed in his eyes: pain, disappointment, anger…
“I shouldn’t have kissed you last night. Snake saw us and he told Baltasar. It’s only a matter of time before he finds out we were married and that I’m not Pietro Presti from Chicago. When that happens, I won’t be able to protect you.”
She was silent for a moment, absorbing everything he said and everything he didn’t. There was a lot more at stake here than his job. This mission could very well get him killed. Sorrow filled her. “I kissed you,” she said softly.
“What?”
“You didn’t kiss me, I kissed you.”
“What difference does that make?”
“A lot. It means I’m sorry. It means I care. It means I miss you and I don’t want to go down that mountain unless you come with me.” She stepped forward. “I don’t want to leave you.” Please come with me.
“You already left me, Emily, years ago. There’s no turning back. Not now, not ever.”
“You still care, I know you do.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is? What else matters?”
“I can’t trust you not to change your mind again and decide you can’t live with the uncertainty that goes with my job.”
“That’s hardly fair.”
“Isn’t it?”
“I’m not some silly schoolgirl who doesn’t know my heart.”
“Really. Then you’re okay with my job, that it’s dangerous and sometimes you might not hear from me. You might not know where I am and what I’m doing.”
She bit her lip as the truth of his words hit her. She did care, that was the problem. “Why can’t you give it up?”
“For what?”
“For me?”
He stared at her. “Because it wouldn’t be enough, you’d always want more and I’d keep giving until there was nothing left of me. Can’t you see that?”
Frustrated tears shimmered in her eyes. “No, all I can see is that you could possibly die and you’d rather face death than love me enough to try and make it work between us.”
“Em, climb the ladder.” Once more he pulled back the vine. “Go home and forget you ever saw me here.”
“No, Peter. I won’t forget. If you want me safe, you’re going to have to come with me. I won’t leave you. Not again.”
Chapter Six
Emily couldn’t spend another moment looking into Peter’s eyes, seeing the pain, the mistrust, the broken dreams. And she’d caused it all, because she had been too afraid. She’d let fear take over her life and she pushed him away, and now he was doing the same thing. He was afraid so he was pushing her away. No matter how she felt, no matter what the risk. He just wanted her to go home and forget she ever saw him, forget they ever kissed.
That may be easier for him, but for her it would be impossible. Tears filled her eyes. “Sorry, Peter, but I can’t go.” She turned and ran back the way she’d come straight into the jungle, searching for the blasted cobblestone path, swatting at the tears running down her cheeks. She’d been such a fool. She’d bared her soul, laid her feelings on the line and he’d taken her heart and stomped on it. Forget.
She wasn’t a child, a selfish little girl who takes and takes. She respected him for who he was, she just preferred to have a husband who was actually living. Why couldn’t he see that? Why couldn’t he see that she just wanted what she knew they could have together?
As a sharp stitch threaded her side she stopped running and looked around her. She was completely and hopelessly lost. She started walking, slowly this time, listening for any sound from Baltasar’s guards. She couldn’t believe it, but she was actually hoping to run into one of them. She skirted another massive web, and shuddered when she couldn’t see its host. Better the guards than anything else she could think of.
Even Peter? The silent question mocked her, sending a tender ache spreading through her. Emotion clogged her throat. She pushed it back down. She wouldn’t think about him, about everything they’d once had and lost, about everything they would never have again because he wouldn’t let them have it again. He’d rather live alone in this horrid dark green nightmare of a jungle than come home with her. Somehow, she had to find a way to change his mind.
Sweat ran down her back, and her legs itched. In her rush out the door, she’d forgotten to put on her bug spray and was beginning to pay the consequences for her lapse in active brain cells—an affliction that seemed to be growing. Thank goodness she hadn’t listened to Peter and climbed that wall.
She brushed an
other disgusting insect off her thigh, then heard a rustling in the bushes to her right. She stopped and forced herself to breathe. She scanned the leaves and branches, but saw nothing. She expelled a breath then let her gaze roam to the nearest tree where it crashed head on with the sharp yellow-green eyes of a black jaguar.
Her heart jumped painfully into her throat as little mewling sounds escaped her. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think. How was it possible that this monster cat could just be sitting there this close to the house…on this side of that wall?
She stood frozen, waiting for him to rip her to shreds. “Help,” she squeaked through her closed throat. The cat’s eyes bored into hers, its whiskers twitched. “Help,” she called again, a little louder this time. Gracefully, it stood up on the large limb and moved toward her. It would only be mere seconds before it pounced.
Don’t run, she told herself. It’ll chase you down and eat you. And even though she knew it was a mistake, she couldn’t help herself. She wanted to run. She needed to run. She shifted her weight.
“Dr. Armstrong?” Baltasar said, walking up behind her and nearly giving her a heart attack.
“Shh,” she said, and without turning to look, reached one hand behind her to stop him from approaching. Afraid to take her eyes off the beast, she said, “Back up slowly.”
“I see you’ve met Akisha.”
Horrified confusion coursed through her. “Akisha?” This time she did turn. She couldn’t have heard him right. “You’ve named it?”
Baltasar smiled at her, but it wasn’t a friendly smile, it was cold, ruthless and predatory.
Oh, no! It was his pet. His killing machine. He was going to feed her to his cat, just like he probably fed the last doctor to his monster pet snakes. Oh, Peter was right! She was going to die. She should have gone over the stupid wall.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked.
She grabbed hold of her rising panic and reined it in. “I got lost,” she said, flushing. She couldn’t breathe. The heat was overwhelming, her head was swimming, and to make her situation even worse, even more desperate, she thought she felt something tickling her ankle. She lifted her foot and prayed for balance. “I don’t think I feel well, Mr. Escalante.”
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