Following Murdock, Hawk carried Rorie into the palace and straight to Murdock's room. He eased her down in the middle of the big four-poster bed. She clung to him.
"Where's Frankie?" she asked.
"Take it easy, honey," Hawk said. "Rest, for now. I'll talk to Murdock and find out what's going on and if he knows where Frankie is."
She didn't want to fall asleep. She wanted to stay awake and question Murdock herself. If Frankie was in La Vega, she wanted to go to him. But she was tired—so very, very tired.
Hawk watched Rorie close her eyes and drift off to sleep. She had been relentless, struggling to be as strong as he was. Several times in their odyssey from the caves, to the ocean, and along the trail to Vieques, he'd seen her come close to giving up. But she had fought the physical weakness and the mental fatigue. She had endured.
Looking at her now, he wondered how he ever could have thought she was soft and weak and incapable of surviving a mission into San Miguel.
"She's quite a woman, isn't she?" Murdock clasped Hawk's shoulder.
Hawk nodded. "I've never known anyone like her."
"If she'd been with anyone other than you, I'd have given her up for dead," Murdock said. "You want to tell me what happened?" He pulled out a silver flask and handed it to Hawk.
Hawk lifted the flask to his mouth and took a swallow of whiskey. The liquor burned a trail down his throat and ignited a fire in his belly. He quickly recounted their ordeal.
"So what's happened?" Hawk asked when he was finished. "The message Tito gave us was that Lazaro made a deal with Santos, and Prince Francisco is here in La Vega."
"Just as soon as Santos got hold of the prince, he didn't waste any time offering Lazaro the deal of a lifetime." Murdock gripped the edge of the table. "Lazaro doesn't trust Santos and he hates the very thought of their joining forces, but he has agreed to the deal because he wants this war ended."
"Then Frankie Dean is here in La Vega?"
"He's here at the palace," Murdock replied. "He's under the very watchful eye of Rosa Martinez."
"Any way we can get to the boy?"
"I can make arrangements with Mateo for Miss Dean to see her nephew, but there's no way she can take him with her. Not yet. Not until King Julio meets with Lazaro."
"Not until King Julio walks into the trap set for him," Hawk said. "With Santos's and Lazaro's combined forces, the war should be over in a few days, a week at most. Right? So what happens when the war ends? What are our chances of getting Frankie?"
"Mateo has promised to give the boy to Miss Dean." Murdock took a deep breath and shook his head. "But Mateo won't be the only one giving orders then. And my bet is that Emilio Santos has no intention of letting the young prince live."
* * *
Chapter 16
« ^ »
Rorie awoke suddenly, gasping for air. She felt the watery weight of the river bearing down on her, pushing her farther and farther below the surface. Disoriented and afraid, she thrashed about in the bed. A pair of strong arms encompassed her body and drew her into a warm embrace.
Soothing her with his touch and his words, Hawk comforted Rorie. "You're safe," he whispered. "You're safe."
Reassured by his nearness, Rorie relaxed in his arms. Hawk wanted to protect her from the evil world around them. He wanted to take away her every pain and fill her life with peace and joy and happiness. And he knew that someday, another man would give her all that he longed to give her. Someday another man would love her. He couldn't bear to think about someone else possessing Rorie, claiming her for his own. No matter how selfish his desires, Hawk wanted Rorie to belong to him forever—body and soul.
Lifting her head, she gazed into Hawk's eyes. "How long have I been asleep?"
"About four hours." He caressed her cheek and died a little inside when she flinched. "Murdock brought us some clean clothes. I've already showered and changed. Do you want me to help you to the bathroom?"
"No." Rorie pulled out of Hawk's arms and scooted to the edge of the bed. Her muscles ached. The scratches and scrapes on her body itched and burned. "Did you find out anything about Frankie?"
"He's here in the palace, but he's under guard. Rosa is with him."
"The woman who kidnapped him?"
"Murdock is trying to arrange something with Lazaro right now, so you can see Frankie."
Rorie stood on wobbly legs. When Hawk reached for her, she knocked his hands away. "I'll be all right. I want to… Where are those clean clothes? I should take a bath and change. I feel so dirty."
Hawk clamped his teeth together, tightening his jaw. The vein in his neck throbbed. Did her words hold a double meaning? Did she feel dirty because she'd allowed her brother's kidnapper to make love to her?
He sat on the side of the bed and watched Rorie walk slowly and unsteadily across the room. When she closed the bathroom door, he slammed his fists down on the bed. Cursing silently, he stood and paced back and forth, all the while damning himself for hurting Rorie. He'd known that the truth about his association with Santos would come out sooner or later, and he'd known she would never be able to forgive him for his part in Peter's death. Regardless of her feelings, he had taken her innocence, and he'd let her fall in love with him. She had every right to hate him. Hell, he hated himself!
* * *
When Rorie emerged from the bathroom, clean and fresh and neatly dressed in the green army trousers and matching, too-large shirt, she found Hawk and Murdock deep in conversation.
"Is General Lazaro going to let me see Frankie?" she asked.
At the sound of her voice, Hawk and Murdock turned toward her. They exchanged a look that told Rorie something was wrong.
"Has something happened to Frankie?" She rushed over to Hawk, but stopped abruptly before she actually touched him. Her instinct had been to attack him, to beat her fists against his chest as she'd done in the cave. The anger she felt for him continually boiled inside her, threatening to overflow. She hated him. And she loved him. And she had never been so confused in her life. "What's wrong? Tell me!"
"Nothing's wrong," Hawk said. "Not exactly."
"What does that mean?" she asked.
"It means that plans have changed." Murdock glanced questioningly at Hawk, who nodded an affirmative response. "Lazaro has taken the prince with him to meet King Julio."
Rorie gasped. "Frankie is going to be right in the middle of the fighting, isn't he?" She reached deep within her, garnering all the emotional strength she possessed. She would not fall apart. She would not allow fear to rule her actions.
"The boy will be in some danger," Murdock said. "But left here at the palace with Rosa and Santos's guards, the prince would have been in more danger. This way, Prince Francisco will be under the general's protection. Lazaro has given me his word that, once the prince has served his purpose and drawn the king out of Puerto Angelo, he will send the boy back to La Vega—to you, Miss Dean."
"Lazaro is going to send Frankie back here to me?" She desperately wanted to trust the general's word. "Do you believe him?"
"We have no choice," Hawk said. "There's no way we can get to Frankie. We're pretty much under house arrest here at the palace. Only Lazaro can set both us and Frankie free."
"What about Emilio Santos?" Rorie asked.
"Santos's main objective right now is helping Lazaro defeat King Julio," Hawk told her. "Once the war ends, then Santos will try to find a way to eliminate Frankie."
"Lazaro understands Santos," Murdock said. "He knows Santos wants to see the heir to the throne dead. Although Lazaro is joining forces with Santos to end the war, he doesn't trust him. Lazaro knows our best chance of saving the prince's life is to get him out of San Miguel while the war is raging."
"We're pretty much at General Lazaro's mercy, where Frankie is concerned," Hawk said. "All we can do is wait."
"Wait and pray." Clasping her hands in a prayerful gesture, Rorie closed her eyes and pleaded with God for his help.
"I'll have
a ship standing by off the coast of Cabo Verde," Murdock told them. "As soon as Lazaro sends Frankie to us, we'll move quickly." He walked to the door, clasped the handle and looked back over his shoulder. "Let's hope this plan falls together without any glitches. If it does, y'all will be back in the U.S., along with the prince, very soon."
"Mr. Murdock?" Rorie called out to him just as he opened the door.
He closed the door and turned to face her. "What is it?"
"How did Emilio Santos find out that Frankie was at the Blessed Virgin Mission and that Hawk and I were going there to get him?"
"A very good question, Miss Dean."
"Only four people, other than Hawk and me, knew where Frankie was and that Hawk and I were going to the mission."
"Do you think I betrayed you?" Murdock asked.
"I don't know. Did you?"
"I'd trust Murdock with my life," Hawk said. "I can promise you that he didn't betray us."
"Then who did?" Rorie asked. "We know King Julio didn't. Despite who and what that man is, he loves Frankie more than anything. So that leaves Captain García, who is completely loyal to the king, and Nina Hernández, who told me how fond she is of Frankie."
"Nina and Rosa are cousins, Miss Dean," Murdock said, shifting his feet restlessly. "Does that narrow your list of suspects?"
"Nina Hernández and Rosa, the woman who kidnapped Frankie from the mission, are cousins? How do you know?"
"I had a little talk with Rosa," Murdock said. "After I praised her for her part in Santos's and Lazaro's upcoming victory, she was more than glad to fill me in on a few details."
"And what are those details?" Rorie's stomach knotted painfully.
Hawk came up behind Rorie, close enough so that she felt the heat from his big body. But he didn't touch her.
"Nina was quite fond of the prince, but…" Murdock paused briefly. "Nina is pregnant with King Julio's child. She expected the king to marry her and proclaim her child the heir to the throne. Old Julio refused to do either. He told Nina that Prince Francisco would remain the heir to the throne."
"So, Nina betrayed the king," Hawk said, as he considered Nina's motive for putting the prince's life at risk. "She used you to get the information about where the prince was hidden. Apparently, King Julio wouldn't tell her where he'd sent Frankie."
"Nina knew that if Santos got his hands on the prince, he would eventually eliminate the boy," Murdock explained. "What Nina didn't know was that Santos would use the prince to bring about the king's defeat."
Rorie's shoulders slumped. Her hands trembled. She despised this world, this country filled with hate and betrayal and lust for power. She loathed Santos and Lazaro and King Julio. She even hated Murdock, who was a part of all this evil. But most of all she hated Hawk because he had kept the truth from her.
Murdock opened the door, "Try to get some rest. And be ready to leave at a moment's notice," he said, closing the door behind him.
"Why don't you go back to bed?" Hawk said. "It could be hours, maybe even tomorrow, before Lazaro sends Frankie back to the palace."
Rorie walked away from Hawk and sat down on the side of the bed. "Do you really believe that Lazaro will send Frankie back to us?"
Hawk wanted to wrap Rorie in his arms, to comfort her and promise her that everything was going to be all right. But he knew she didn't want him to touch her. And he couldn't honestly promise her Frankie's safe return.
"I believe there's a good chance Lazaro will keep his word."
"Unless?"
"Think positive thoughts, Rorie. Otherwise you'll go crazy while we're waiting."
Fully clothed, Rorie lay down across the bed and closed her eyes. Memories of Hawk filled her mind. His wicked smile. His deep, sensuous laughter. His strong arms holding her. His soft lips taking hers in a ravenous kiss. His body covering hers.
Suddenly her eyes flew open. She willed her breathing to slow from its frantic pace. Taking several deep breaths, she sat up in the middle of the bed and crossed her legs at the ankle.
"Why is Murdock in San Miguel working for our government?" she demanded.
Hawk snapped his head around to face her. "What?"
"What is Murdock doing here in the middle of this civil war?"
"Unofficially, the United States has backed Lazaro since the beginning of the war," Hawk told her.
"Yes, I know that. But what does Murdock do, exactly?"
There was no point in lying to her, Hawk reminded himself. She was a smart woman. She'd probably already figured out most of it, anyway.
"Murdock is a facilitator. He makes things happen with as little fuss and bother as possible. He does whatever is necessary to bring about the desired results."
"Then you were a 'facilitator,' too, weren't you?"
Hawk saw the fear and rage in her eyes. Let her be angry. Let her hate me. But don't let her be afraid of me.
He walked toward the bed. She sat perfectly still and watched his approach. He sat down, reached out and grasped her hands. Her bottom lip quivered. Her chin trembled.
"Please, don't be afraid of me, Rorie." He lifted her hands to his lips. "I would never hurt you. Don't you know that I'd die to protect you?" He kissed her hands.
She jerked her hands out of his. Looking at his bowed head, the defeated slump of his shoulders, Rorie's heart ached for him. Reaching out, she cupped his face in her hands.
He looked up into her gentle, caring blue eyes and thought he would die from the need to hold her. "I'm sorry. I never should have—"
She covered his mouth with her hand. "Shh. Hush. Don't say anything else. We can't change the past. We can't go back and undo what was done."
Rorie eased Hawk's head against her breasts and encompassed his big body in her embrace. He slipped his arms around her waist and lay against her, listening to the sound of her heartbeat.
This woman—this rare and beautiful woman—could have been his for the rest of his life. She had loved him enough to give him her innocence; and greedily, he had taken all she had offered. But because of his past, there could be no future for them. He had committed unpardonable sins. If Rorie could not offer him absolution, then he would live and die unforgiven.
* * *
Shortly after dawn, Hawk awoke. Rorie lay beside him, snuggled close, her arm draped across his waist. The soft, repetitive knock on the door alerted Hawk to what had awakened him. He shook Rorie. She mumbled something incoherent and cuddled closer.
The door eased open. Murdock slipped inside. Hawk sat up, turned and flung his legs off the bed. With the straps of two shoulder holsters crisscrossing his broad chest, Murdock crept across the room.
"Lazaro sent the boy, with four guards, back to the palace," Murdock whispered. "They're waiting for us. Get her up and come with me. Now!"
"Rorie." Hawk shook her again.
She opened her eyes and jumped straight up. "What?"
"Frankie's here," Hawk said. "Lazaro sent him back to us. We've got to leave now."
Hawk and Rorie followed Murdock up the dark hallways and down the back stairs. Three armed men and one woman surrounded the young prince, near the back entrance to the palace. The moment Rorie saw her nephew, she wanted to run to him and pull him into her arms. But she wondered if Frankie would even recognize her.
When they approached the guards, Murdock spoke rapidly in Spanish, issuing orders. Then, turning to Hawk, he drew his old friend aside.
"Two of the guards are Lazaro's men and two are Santos's," Murdock whispered. "Santos wouldn't let the boy go unless Lazaro agreed to splitting the guards. The woman and the man with the beard are the renegades."
"Damn!" Hawk cursed quietly, hissing the words between clenched teeth.
"The plan is for me and one of Lazaro's men to go on ahead and make sure all is safe." Murdock grabbed Hawk's arm. "Unless I send word otherwise, I'll be waiting with a rowboat to take y'all straight out to the cruiser sitting about a mile off the Cabo Verde coast."
Murdock removed
the two shoulder holsters and handed one to Hawk and the other to Rorie. "Be careful. And good luck."
Murdock motioned for one of the guards to come with him, and the two of them left together. Hawk strapped on the holster and then turned to help Rorie put on hers.
"We're going to follow Murdock in a second car after he makes sure it's safe," Hawk told her. "He'll have everything ready for us." He drew Rorie into his arms and whispered in her ear, "The woman and the bearded man are Santos's soldiers."
She gasped silently, then pulled out of Hawk's arms and turned to the three remaining guards. "May I see my nephew?" she asked in Spanish.
The guards separated. Standing there in his pajamas, his big brown eyes so like Peter's, Frankie stared up at Rorie. He looked so small and helpless. And so frightened. But he put on a brave front, with his little chin held high and his shoulders squared.
Rorie walked over and knelt down in front of him. Speaking in Spanish, she said, "Hello, Frankie. Do you remember me? I'm your Aunt Rorie. Your father's sister. When you were a very little boy, we spent a great deal of time together."
The child gazed at her, confusion in his eyes. He glanced around at the three armed, uniformed guards.
"Your Grandfather Julio is going to let you go to the United States and visit me and your Grandmother and Grandfather Dean."
Prince Francisco remained silent, his dark eyes expressing his uncertainty. Rorie wanted to finger his black curls, caress his chubby cheek, draw him into the safety of her arms. But she knew better than to touch him. The last thing she wanted to do was scare him.
"When you were little we used to sing a song together. Maybe you'll remember." Rorie sang an entire verse of "Jesus Loves Me."
Frankie nodded his head and began to sing along with her. Tears gathered in Rorie's eyes and trickled down her cheeks. She continued singing. Frankie smiled as he sang along with her.
"You do remember me, don't you, Frankie? I'm your Aunt Rorie."
"Tía Rorie?" A glimmer of recognition flickered in the child's eyes.
"Yes, darling, Tía Rorie." She opened her arms and waited, praying that Frankie would remember enough to trust her.
GABRIEL HAWK'S LADY Page 23
