Enemy Mine

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Enemy Mine Page 14

by Lindsay McKenna


  Grimacing, Mac said, “Be careful on reprimanding Tiki. I saw one nanny fired for smacking her on the butt. The patrón doesn’t allow Tiki to be physically reprimanded.”

  “Thanks for letting me know that.” Kathy crossed her legs and looked idly at the blisters on her bare feet. She’d soak them later. “Sounds like it will be a chess game of minds, then.”

  “That’s it. And my money’s on you to figure her out and get her straightened out.”

  “I’ll sure try.” Kathy smiled briefly. No one could know that she was here to steal Tiki.

  Mac pulled the lunch pail over and handed it to her. “Some food. Unless you want to go back to the villa? The fridge is stocked with everything you’d ever want to eat.”

  Shaking her head, Kathy took the proffered lunch box. “Thanks, but knowing the place is bugged leaves me a little gun-shy, if you know what I mean.” Kathy gestured to the pool. “Unless someone is in the bushes listening to us, we have the freedom to talk out here.”

  “No one comes down here. Only the gardeners, in the early morning, to clean the pool and pick up branches that might have fallen overnight. It’s a safe place to talk.”

  Kathy opened the lunch box and found a sandwich of shaved roast beef, crisp lettuce and sliced tomatoes, slathered with mustard. As she unwrapped it quickly, her stomach growled. She was starved for some real meat! As she bit into it, she groaned. “This is wonderful, Mac. Thanks so much!” She spontaneously reached out and briefly touched his arm. When she did, Kathy saw his eyes narrow. After telling him she wanted to take their relationship a step at a time, she’d broken a cardinal rule and touched him. Kathy realized she was giving him mixed signals. Damn her heart—and her brain for being in neutral.

  Mac tried to recover gracefully from her touch. “You’re welcome. You looked like a hot ’n’ spicy kind of gal, so I added the mustard instead of bland mayonnaise.” Her featherlight touch had sent prickles up and down his arm. Mac tried to control his surprise at her gesture. Her eyes shone with such gratitude that it reached inside him and grabbed his heart. No, he didn’t think she was playing games. Kathy was a warm and sharing person. She knew how to make him feel good in a very ugly situation.

  “You’re right, I love spicy food. Especially mango chutney and curry.” Kathy sighed. “I love Indian, Thai and Mexican food.” She munched happily on the sandwich and it disappeared in record time. Giving Mac a teasing look, she asked, “How could you know that I like spicy foods?” She picked up a fresh cinnamon roll lavishly slathered with white frosting and took a huge bite. She desperately craved the sugar it would provide her starving body. After the euphoria of passing the final test, Kathy was beginning to feel tired and knew she would sleep soundly after this sumptuous meal.

  “I didn’t know. Just a lucky guess,” he said. But of course, he survived by reading people and their faces. And Katherine Lincoln was no wimp. Underneath, she was a wild woman, and in his experience, wild women liked wild spices. As her hair dried, the strands curled, framing her beautiful face. There wasn’t anything about Kathy that wasn’t beautiful, he decided unhappily.

  Why had Garcia chosen someone so damn comely and desirable? Mac started to worry. Wasn’t Therese enough of a woman for the patrón’s bed? As far as Mac knew, Garcia did not have other women. No, one thing he’d give the man was that he’d stuck with Therese through thick and thin, even though he was married to Paloma, who spurned all his advances.

  Mac worried that Kathy might become more than just a nanny, and he now had another unexpected dilemma. She had no idea that Garcia would murder in the blink of an eye. Mac had seen him do it. If she rebuffed any of Garcia’s advances, he’d kill her. Swallowing hard, Mac hoped he was wrong. Thus far, Therese seemed to satisfy Garcia. The two appeared happy together, or as happy as they could be. Being a Catholic, Garcia would never divorce Paloma, so he couldn’t marry Therese. If his assistant was unhappy about this, she never showed it. Tiki loved her and they got along fine, which was good for all of them in this quasi nuclear family. Mac supposed that was as good as it got under the circumstances.

  “That was a fabulous meal!” Kathy exclaimed, wiping her fingers on the paper napkin. “I love cinnamon rolls. I keep thinking you’ve read a file on me from somewhere and seen my list of fave foods.” She grinned wickedly at him. After shutting the lunch box, she stood up. “Listen, I’m heading back to my villa. I’m bushed. I need to sleep.”

  Rising, he smoothed the light brown chino slacks he wore. “I bet you do. I don’t think Therese will wake you. I’ll put a note on her desk about you coming back. That will make her happy.”

  Kathy went over to her muddy clothes, threw the two towels across them, bundled them up and tucked the parcel beneath her arm. Mac retrieved her boots and the lunch pail. Walking up the hill with him, Kathy said, “And what about you? What are you off to do now?”

  “Helo maintenance,” he said wryly. The last thing he wanted to do. He wished he could spend time with her, get to know a bit more about her. Somehow, he had to stop pining for that. There would be opportunities in the future.

  “There’s a lot to it,” Kathy said, before catching herself. She saw confusion etched on Mac’s face. “Well, I mean, I’m sure there’s lots involved in taking care of a helicopter. I wouldn’t know, but it looks pretty complicated.” Would he believe her? She began to sweat. God, she was terrible at this spy business!

  “Yeah, it is complicated.” Again, Coulter had the feeling that she knew a helluva lot more than she was letting on. How could that be? He shrugged off his suspicions and slowed his steps as they started to crest the hill. In the distance, he could see the green stucco walls of the villas. “Listen, Kathy, there’s one more thing before we go back.” He turned to her. Seeing the startled expression in her eyes, Mac decided she was very readable.

  “What?” Her heart pounded in dread. Had Mac found her out? She gripped the bundle in her arms more tightly.

  “About Carlos Garcia. Your employer.” Mac’s black brows drew together, his eyes becoming very serious. “Look, if Tiki likes you, and I’m sure she will, you’ll interview with him. You need a certain, well, demeanor in front of him. He’s a very rich and powerful person and you need to be aware of that.”

  “Are you suggesting I be humble?” She smiled a little. She could see Mac was worried. “Say ‘Yes, sir’? ‘No, sir’? Don’t speak unless spoken to? Don’t argue? Just sit and listen?”

  “Yeah, something like that. Just be careful and never, ever cross him. If he gives you orders, follow them without thinking. And don’t argue with him. He’s the boss. He’ll expect you to follow his orders blindly.” Looking up, Mac scoured the area to make sure no one was nearby. At this time of day, few were up and about. Even the dogs and cats were asleep. “He has a very short, violent temper. I’m telling you this because you seem to be a person who speaks her mind, and he isn’t necessarily going to appreciate that about you.”

  “I see….” Kathy stared down at her bare feet. The coolness of the brick felt good on her warm, blistered soles. “Thanks for letting me know, Mac. Play dumb. Roll over and pretend I’m dead. Be a beta wolf in reaction to the alpha one. Right?” She wanted to be very clear in her understanding with Mac. He was giving her a huge amount of information on how best to conduct herself. For that, Kathy was more than grateful once again. At first she’d wondered why he was helping her. Now that he’d admitted his attraction to her, she could understand his motivation.

  “Yes, you got it, Kathy.” He liked the way her name rolled off his tongue. Seeing her eyes dance, Mac wanted to reach out, slide his hand across her smooth cheek and plant a very hot, molten kiss on that delectable mouth of hers. Whoa, pardner. Not now. Take your time…. Mac censored himself as his body responded to the unbidden desire.

  “I owe you once again, Mac. Don’t worry, I’ll conduct myself like the professional nanny I am. We were taught to be discreet, to listen without interrupting and always to carry out the empl
oyer’s wishes without argument.”

  “Good,” Mac murmured, turning and walking beside her again. “Because Señor Garcia can be a very genial, generous man to those who work with him.”

  He wanted to come clean with Kathy, but didn’t dare. She might not deliberately blow his cover, but he couldn’t afford to have her speak offhandedly of this conversation to anyone. As they approached the buildings, he put his hand out and stopped her. “Whatever you do, never breathe a word of this conversation to a living soul, okay?”

  Kathy nodded and saw the hard glint in his gray eyes. It was more than a warning. “You have my promise,” she whispered huskily. “It goes nowhere. I’ll die with it.” And she would. Sooner or later.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  KATHY’S STOMACH TWISTED into a Gordian knot as she slowly walked toward Tiki’s playroom. It was nearly noon and she’d had a good night’s sleep. At nine that morning, Therese had awakened her and informed her that it was time to meet Tiki. She’d told her to be at her office at 10:00 a.m. sharp.

  Kathy had dressed in pale gray linen slacks and a plain white silk blouse, wanting to project a conservative air. Her instincts told her to keep her hair down today instead of up in a tasteful French roll. The golden strands were clean, slightly curled and hung around her shoulders, loose and free. Kathy knew it didn’t look prim and proper, but she never ignored her intuition.

  Today was the day. The interview with Therese had gone well, and there had been no trick questions. Therese’s secretary had transcribed their conversation onto the computer from the recording that had been made. Kathy was sure the transcript would instantly go to Garcia.

  After the interview, Therese took her to Tiki’s quarters. The little girl had three rooms at her disposal on the second floor of the main villa—enough space, in Kathy’s opinion, for ten people. Therese had shown her two children’s bedrooms, located at the back of the villa, across the sidewalk from where Kathy would live. Kathy noticed the windows on each bedroom were well protected with vertical black, wrought-iron rods. No intruder was going to break into this fortress, that was for sure.

  Now came the next test. As they walked down the highly polished teakwood hall, Kathy tried to appear relaxed. If Tiki didn’t like her, all of this was for nothing. Therese said that she’d immediately be flown back to Cuzco, and then she could take a commercial flight to Lima, with a one-way, first class ticket in hand to Calgary. Kathy wanted to ask how many nannies Tiki had refused, but thought better of it.

  “Here we are, Señorita Lincoln.” Therese opened the bright blue-and-red door that led to Tiki’s playroom. “Go on in. We have a camera in the room for security reasons. The patrón is worried about kidnapping, and he has guards who watch this tape twenty-four hours a day. I will go to the guards’ office and watch how you interact with Tiki from there. I’ll come and get you at the appropriate time.” She smiled a little. “Good luck, señorita.”

  Good luck, indeed. Kathy nodded and smiled back. “Sounds fine to me.” She entered the room and quietly shut the door. Tiki Garcia rocked away on her rocking horse in the corner. Dressed in pale pink coveralls, a bright red T-shirt festooned with cartoon characters, her hair in two braids, she seemed like a happy child.

  Kathy smiled and lifted her hand. “Hi, Tiki. My name is Katherine.”

  Tiki let out a squeal that rang through the toy-filled room. At first, Kathy didn’t know what to do. She froze. Her ears buzzed from the child’s unexpected shriek. What was wrong? Was this her way of expressing dislike?

  The little girl slid off the horse and screamed joyfully, “Dolly! Dolly! You’re my dolly!”

  When Tiki came barreling toward her, pointing excitedly at her head, Kathy instinctively knelt down on one knee and opened her arms to the child. Tiki came crashing into her like a wiggling puppy.

  In that instant, Kathy forgot she was there to kidnap the little girl. Tiki’s eager hands wrapped around her long, blond hair. She tugged on it several times, which hurt Kathy. Scalp tingling, she smiled down at her and patiently removed Tiki’s searching hands from her hair.

  “Dolly! You’re my dolly!” Tiki reached for her hair again.

  “Tiki, you can touch my hair, but don’t pull it, okay? It hurts me, little one,” Kathy said, holding out her arm so that the girl couldn’t yank on her hair again.

  Tiki seemed to accept this, so Kathy picked her up and walked back over to her rocking horse. The child constantly touched Kathy’s hair, stroked it and admired it.

  How could she take this adorable child away from her parents? Gulping, Kathy stared down at Tiki. She hadn’t expected her to be so beautiful, more like a porcelain doll than an ordinary child. The happiness in the girl’s eyes made mush of Kathy and her kidnapping plans.

  After sitting down on a small wooden stool next to the horse, Kathy balanced the child on her right thigh. Tiki was still happily engaged in playing with her hair. Mac Coulter had been right about her obsession with blond hair. Again, Kathy mentally thanked him for his information.

  “So,” she said, grinning, “you obviously like blond hair, eh?” She couldn’t forget that many Canadians put an “eh” at the end of some sentences. And since she was supposedly from Canada, she decided now was a good time to reinforce her cover.

  “Dolly has sun hair,” Tiki gushed as she looked up at Kathy. Pointing to her eyes, she said, “Sky eyes! Sky eyes, too! You’re my Dolly?”

  Chuckling, Kathy said, “Sure, I can be your dolly.” Instantly, Tiki’s round little face broke into such a radiant smile that it stole her heart. The child was beautiful, with her coppery skin, shining eyes and bow-shaped mouth.

  In Kathy’s estimation, Tiki was short for a six-year-old and obviously underweight for her age. She compared Tiki’s size with that of her little sister, Kamaria, who was two years younger. Kathy could feel Tiki’s ribs as she ran her hand along the child’s back. How odd, she thought. This kid had a father who obviously gave her everything she’d ever want. Why was she underweight? Intent on her exploration of Tiki, she saw the child wore little white tennis shoes on her feet. Kathy reached down to make sure they fit right. Tiki’s toes were pressing against the end of the shoes, which meant she needed a larger size.

  Quietly examining Tiki as she played happily with her hair, Kathy made a mental list of things to discuss with Therese. Because the child was happy, Kathy allowed her to sit and play in her lap. There was no need to move or entertain her. Being watched by the camera made Kathy feel highly uncomfortable. If she were employed here, every word and action would be recorded and, she was sure, would get back to Garcia. She remembered Mac’s warning about never hitting Tiki in any way, shape or form.

  “Dolly,” the girl breathed joyfully. “You’re my Dolly!” Her little index finger traced one of Kathy’s blond eyebrows.

  Kathy laughed and patted Tiki gently, her other hand around the child’s waist to keep her balanced on her thigh.

  The door opened, and Therese poked her head in. She was smiling. “Tiki, darling, Señorita Katherine must come with me for a little while.”

  “No!” Tiki shrilled, immediately starting to pout.

  Shocked at the girl’s response, Kathy hurriedly tried to calm her. “Hey, little one, it’s okay,” she crooned to her in Spanish. “I’ll be right back.”

  Huge tears welled up in Tiki’s large eyes as she looked up at Kathy. The kid was a helluva manipulator. Despite the girl’s tears, Kathy got up and placed Tiki on the saddle of her stuffed rocking horse. The black fur that had once covered the toy animal was just about gone, the fabric telling Kathy that the child loved her horsey and spent a lot of time on it.

  “Dolly go away,” Tiki wailed, rubbing her tear-filled eyes with her fists.

  “Not for long.” Kathy smiled and placed a kiss on Tiki’s hair. Patting her gently, she picked up the well-used leather reins of the horse. “Here, rock on your horsey for a while. You can show me how well you ride when I get back, okay?”

  So
mewhat mollified, Tiki took the reins from her. “Dolly come back?”

  “That’s a promise,” Kathy whispered, settling her hand on the child’s thin shoulder. Oh, God, how was she going to rip this little girl away from her parents, now that she’d met her? Kathy turned and walked across the immaculate room.

  Outside in the hall, Kathy pulled the door closed. Two sentries on their rounds, stared at her. Gulping, she wondered if she’d been found out.

  “These are some of Tiki’s guards, Señorita Lincoln. Antonio and Andres,” Therese said. “They will always be making rounds on this floor. Two other guards, Julio and Mario, take the twelve-hour shift at night. They always guard Tiki’s floor. Come with me?”

  Heart pounding, Kathy barely acknowledged the two soldiers in jungle fatigues. Talk about guards! They had every conceivable weapon on them—rifles, knives, two pistols slung low on their massive thighs, and a belt of bullets crisscrossing their sizable chests. Edging past them, Kathy followed Therese to her office.

  “Sit down, please,” the woman said, gesturing to the red leather high-backed chair in front of her mahogany desk. In the corner, Sarita, her secretary, a Peruvian woman with graying hair up in a bun on the top of her head, sat alert with her hands resting on the laptop.

  Kathy settled into her chair and waited. She knew Tiki liked her, but what did Therese think? Unsure, she watched the woman as she slowly flipped her thick, wavy dark hair over her proud shoulders.

  “Well, I am impressed, Señorita Lincoln! Tiki had a surprising reaction to you.”

  “I thought so, too,” Kathy said. A breath of relief started to trickle through her. Maybe she was going to get the job. She wrestled with her hatred for Garcia, but managed to rein it in.

  “What you didn’t know is that our little Tiki has an interest in fair-haired Anglos.” Chuckling, Therese sat back in her black leather chair. “She’s got an entire collection of Barbie dolls. You know, the blond-haired, blue-eyed type?”

 

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