Enemy Mine

by Lindsay McKenna

“Of course, Señorita Lincoln. Right away.” He wheeled the cart out of the room.

  Pleased, Kathy watched as the children scarfed down every last morsel on their plates. She breathed a sigh of relief that Sophie had eaten. Careful not to lavish more attention on her than Tiki, Kathy operated like an airport control tower between them, training each in the use of cutlery.

  When dessert arrived, something healthy instead of junk food, Kathy crossed her fingers that the girls would like her idea. She’d had the dessert sous-chef, Gregoire, create a parfait made of fresh guava and whipped cream. On top of each flute was a thin slice of kiwi fruit with two eyes made from half a cherry and a smile created with tiny chocolate sprinkles. Kathy wasn’t going to deny Tiki junk food completely, but she sure was going to control her intake of it!

  On Sophie’s dessert, the “face” on top of the parfait was half a slice of orange with red cherry eyes and white chocolate sprinkles for a smile. Sophie smiled—again—and looked up at Kathy. There was such gratitude in the girl’s expression that Kathy felt her heart tug in her chest. Thank God. Kathy swore she would try to make Sophie’s time here as easy as possible.

  Within ten minutes, the girls had consumed their desserts and their milk.

  “This is fun! What will I have tomorrow for breakfast, Dolly?” Tiki burped and happily laughed.

  “Oh,” Kathy chortled, “that’s a surprise, Tiki!” She sat there, a warm glow in her heart for these two little girls. There was such an affectionate look shared between them with Kathy that she felt an incredible pride in both girls who deserved to be unequivocally loved.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “IN THE FOUR MONTHS you have been with us, Señorita Kathy, you have been a miracle worker,” Carlos Garcia gushed as he pulled out the leather chair for her.

  Kathy sat down. She hadn’t expected to spend four months infiltrating this place, but that’s exactly what it had taken. She’d discovered Garcia and Therese were like wolves—always wary of outsiders. And she’d needed the four months to break down those barriers and get them to accept her. She felt they had, but maybe she was wrong. It was unusual that Garcia would call her in like this unexpectedly. Sweat began to form on her brow.

  “Excuse me, sir? How have I helped?” Instantly, Kathy went on guard, hoping her cover hadn’t been blown. After situating himself behind his desk, Garcia snipped the end of his Cuban cigar, then lit it. He took a few puffs, pulled it out from between his lips and gave Kathy a glittering smile. “My darling Tiki is fifteen pounds heavier and has grown a full inch! Her pediatric doctor in Cuzco just called me with this news. He is very happy, and I am ecstatic! For so long we’ve taken her to specialists, the best in the world, and they all said her problem was genetic. Bah!” He waved his hand, anger in his tone. “And you come here and feed her ‘funny food’ as she calls it. She has gained weight and now is considered within the normal range for her age group. I am very pleased with you, señorita. You have surpassed all my expectations.”

  Well, at least he didn’t know she was a mole. Relief flowed through Kathy. “Thank you, Patrón,” she said as she looked down at her tightly clasped hands.

  She had to restrain herself with regard to Sophie’s plight. Having seen too many examples of Garcia’s manic-depressive states with others, Kathy avoided him as much as possible. She knew his routine by now. Every night at bedtime he visited Tiki’s room and read her a chapter from her favorite books, Harry Potter’s adventures. There was no question in Kathy’s mind that Garcia loved his daughter. He would pop in from time to time during the day, spend five or ten minutes with her before he had to rush off to an appointment—with another drug lord, she was sure.

  “I want to reward you, señorita. I reward people who do well,” Garcia said now.

  Kathy sat up a little straighter. “Sir?”

  “Therese speaks highly of you,” he said with a flourish of his hand and a contented puff of his cigar. “Therese told me that you do little things for her to help out in the office. She’s very appreciative that you are something of a computer geek.” He grinned, flashing his perfect white teeth. “She knows PCs. The secretary ordered a Macintosh, so she is at her wit’s end, as you can imagine. Your knowledge of Macs has relieved her greatly.”

  If he only knew she was gathering information about his drug operation! And Therese’s office was the only place in the villa that did not have a damnable video camera, insofar as Kathy could tell. “My family has a work ethic, Patrón. Many times when Tiki is napping in the afternoon I have nothing else to do. I once saw Señorita Therese in tears in front of her Mac, so I thought I’d ask if I could help her out.”

  Kathy had used her skill to find certain files, but they were protected with a password. Nevertheless, she was determined to bring down Garcia in any way possible. Some nights, when everyone was asleep, she would sneak back to Therese’s office with her key. She would run passwords, but so far had had no luck breaking in. It was only a matter of time….

  “Sí, you are very helpful, señorita, and that is why I am going to reward you!” Garcia leaned back and rocked in his burgundy leather chair. “Therese will look after Tiki for the next twenty-four hours. I have ordered Señor Coulter to fly you to Cuzco. There is a reservation at the five-star Liberator Hotel for you—in their presidential suite. When you go there, you will want for nothing. I have the finest of champagne waiting for you.” He grinned and sat up straight.

  “I have given Señor Coulter instructions to take you to the finest, most expensive stores in Cuzco to buy yourself something you’ve always wanted but could never afford. And be willing to buy your dream, señorita. If you love diamonds and have always hungered for a diamond bracelet that cost fifty thousand soles, then buy it! Whatever you desire, it is yours. Do not be afraid to spend the money.” He chuckled. “My Therese does it all the time. She wears the finest designer clothes. Señor Coulter knows where these shops are located because he flies her to and from Cuzco for shopping sprees.”

  “Well, why, sir…” She was stunned by his generosity, but then, it was dirty money. Money gotten from drug addicts. “I really am not a clotheshorse, Patrón.”

  “No? Then jewelry?”

  “Well…” Kathy opened her hands and gave him a forced smile, “I come from a poor family, Patrón. I am happy with my life and I’m certainly happy with what you pay me for a salary.”

  “Humph! You are beautiful! You should be dressed in beautiful fabrics! Men should be swooning at your feet! Here in South America, romance is alive and flourishing! Well, enough of this,” he muttered, standing. “Come! I have had your servant pack you an overnight bag with only the essentials. You must buy yourself some new clothes. I have ordered Señor Coulter to take you to the finest of restaurants tonight, and then you two can dance the night away.”

  Speechless, Kathy stood up. At all costs, she wanted to avoid Garcia’s outstretched hand, so she moved quickly to the door and opened it. His hand came to rest on the small of her back, which made her flesh turn cold. Never did she want Garcia to touch her! It took everything she had to let herself be escorted by him to the foyer. Her mood lifted, however, when she heard the Bell helicopter warming up outside.

  “Enjoy your reward, señorita. Therese will look after the girls while you are away, so do not worry about them. We will see you here tomorrow, at this time.” He waved goodbye to her as the servant picked up her small suitcase and ushered her to the helicopter.

  AS SHE LEFT, Carlos leaned back and smiled, very pleased with himself. Yes, Therese was correct: it was time Mac Coulter had romance in his life. And why not Kathy Lincoln? After all, they both worked for him. A little matchmaking to bring them together had been Therese’s idea, and it was a brilliant stroke of genius. Carlos didn’t like to see Mac, someone he liked, being alone. No, a man needed a woman. And Katherine Lincoln was certainly comely. Carlos had more than once seen Mac steal discreet glances in her direction.

  Rubbing his hands together, Garcia chu
ckled indulgently. Maybe he was an incurable romantic, but he’d rather be that than the opposite: cold and uncaring. In South America, a man had to have a woman to take care of him, love him and support his goals. Mac Coulter needed such a woman.

  FROM THE FRYING PAN into the fire. Kathy battled nausea stemming from the overwhelming desire to strike Garcia in the face with a killing blow. She could have done it, but death would be too quick and easy. No, she wanted to take Tiki from him. The girl was his Achilles’ Heel and the thought of kidnapping her calmed some of Kathy’s bloodlust. Or did it? Not a day went by when she didn’t feel conflicted about her intention to kidnap Tiki. Her conscience ate at her. How could she hurt an innocent child? She would be just as heinous as those who had stolen Jason from his family. Right now, Kathy wasn’t sure about anything and felt suspended in a hellish kind of limbo.

  As she walked toward the landing pad, her heart began to pound. A servant opened the door on the left side of the helicopter and Kathy climbed in. In the last four months she hadn’t seen much of Mac Coulter except when work brought them together. But when she bumped into him she saw the longing for her in his eyes even though he kept his distance, much to her relief.

  Of course, Kathy still thought about Mac, still felt the pull of her silly heart toward him. And now she was being thrown into his arms by Garcia! She shook her head and wondered what twisted karma had placed Mac on her path. Of all the things she could have anticipated happening, romance wasn’t one of them.

  Oh, there were times when Kathy longed to be with Mac. Even though he worked for a drug dealer, he was an American like her. They were both far from home and living on the edge. She tried to convince herself that their attraction was nothing more than needing a friend to talk with. Yeah, right.

  Mac adjusted his earphones and mike, then nodded curtly in her direction. Because he had on his aviator sunglasses, she couldn’t read the expression in his eyes. Did he still want her? Was he angry that he had to take this special trip with her?

  Kathy nodded back to Mac and climbed into the harness. He handed her the other set of earphones, and she slipped them on. Once the servant put the bag in the back and slid the door shut, Kathy couldn’t help but sense the finality in the moment. It was as if she were in a prison. Well, wasn’t she? From the cockpit window, she watched as the mechanic, a Quero Indian, held up his hands in a signal for Mac to take off. The chocks had been removed. The Bell powered up, shaking and vibrating around her.

  “Well, you’re Cinderella for twenty-four hours,” Mac said wryly as he lifted the bird off the concrete landing pad and up over the jungle. He tried to sound professional and unemotional about their journey. He didn’t know whether to be thrilled or depressed that Garcia had hinted broadly that Kathy should become his lover during their stay in Cuzco. Mac’s loco heart jumped up and down for joy over the idea, but he tried to remain low-key about it. He’d never been able to erase Kathy from his heart or his feelings no matter how hard he tried. Now Garcia had thrown them together like some imperial matchmaker. Damn. How was Mac going to keep his distance from her? “Patrón Garcia has ordered me to entertain you for a day and a night in Cuzco. Congratulations.”

  His smile was sincere even if she couldn’t see his eyes. Just being this close to Mac made her heart race, and it wasn’t due to panic. Except that she couldn’t develop a relationship in the middle of this spy game, which made her sweat every day she was here. One mistake could get her killed before she met her objective.

  “Thanks, I think. I’m stunned, to tell you the truth, eh?” From time to time, Kathy made damn sure she added that little Canadian expression to ensure her cover. “And I’m sorry you got thrown into this.”

  “I’m not.” To hell with it, Mac was going to be honest with her whether she liked it or not.

  Great. Kathy compressed her lips and hoped to escape the tension by looking out over the green, rolling jungle. Above them the usual morning blanket of gray, thick clouds stretched across the sky. Rain began to fall, pelting the helicopter as Mac headed toward the mountain range in the distance.

  She enjoyed the shaking and shuddering of the helicopter. How much she missed flying! There were so many times when she yearned to walk out to that helipad, climb into the chopper and take off. Gazing at the sky gave her clarity of thought, and being up in it made her feel safe.

  “I imagine this is a day off for you and that’s why you’re not completely unhappy about the assignment?” Kathy nervously brushed back strands of hair that had dipped across her brow. She settled the microphone more closely to her lips, and sneaked a peek at Mac’s profile as he flew. He still had that cockeyed grin. What was so funny?

  “From the way Tiki was coming around, I figured the patrón would reward you lavishly sooner or later. You’ve done some nice work with that little kid. And Sophie’s happier, too. You deserve this, so enjoy your day away,” Mac said as his heart wrenched hard in his chest. He’d already contacted his handler in Lima about recovering Sophie, but nothing could be done. Not one breath of Sophie’s whereabouts, even the fact that she was alive, could be divulged to the parents. Mac hated that verdict because he could only imagine what torture her parents were suffering—the grief, the wretchedness of losing a child—and she was alive. He tried to think of another way to get Sophie out of the villa, but struck out. It always came back to the same thing: any rescue attempt would blow his cover. And he was getting too close to Garcia to jeopardize his mission. All he needed were a couple more months and then, maybe, he could blow the joint with the information the DEA needed to bust Garcia once and for all…and Sophie would escape with him.

  “I don’t want to spend Señor Garcia’s money,” Kathy said fretfully, rubbing her brow.

  Mac glanced to his left and saw the stormy look in her eyes. She looked like a winsome college girl, given her choice of clothing. Her only jewelry was the small pearl earrings in her delicate lobes. “Why not? You’ve earned it.”

  “Because.” Kathy didn’t dare say another word. Mac was in league with the devil. Yet being this close to the guy made her melt into a puddle. He had that damnable boyish smile that made her happy whenever he bestowed it upon her. And she liked the intimate, husky quality of his voice.

  At least once a month, he had flown her to Cuzco with Tiki to visit a dentist or doctor or to buy the little girl some clothes. That was about all the contact she’d had with him. Oh, he was busy, that was for sure. On a daily basis, Coulter ferried men in expensive Italian suits from Cuzco to see Garcia at the villa. And Kathy knew they were all drug dealers. She had finally found a list of their names on Therese’s computer, had made a disk and had it hidden in Tiki’s playroom where no one would find it—she hoped.

  “I like days like this,” Mac murmured, looking around for other air traffic. There were two helicopter services near Machu Picchu that flew tourists up for a grand view of the area. “This is what I call a ‘play day.’” He glanced at Kathy, who was frowning deeply. “You do like to play, don’t you?” He grinned wickedly.

  “I don’t like taking the patrón’s money,” Kathy choked out. She gripped her hands so hard that her knuckles whitened. This time alone with Mac was not going to be easy.

  “He’s a generous man to some,” Mac said, resuming scanning the sky. “You’re on his good list, so enjoy the status.”

  Kathy snorted. “Yeah, I’ve seen him with people on the other list.”

  “Umm, yeah, I know what you mean. He can lose his temper pretty easily.”

  “He’s manic-depressive.”

  “Yes, he is. I think I heard Therese say that one time. I’m not a doctor, but I’ve flown for him for over a year and have probably seen most of his moods.”

  This was the most Coulter had ever divulged to her. Whose side was he on? Giving him a quick, sharp glance, Kathy said nothing. Usually, no one at the villa breathed a word about Garcia for fear he’d kill them or at the least have a monumental temper tantrum, strike them across the face
and humiliate them in front of everyone. Kathy lived in dread of having that happen to her. But she wouldn’t take it lying down. She’d fight back, even if by doing so, she’d blow her cover.

  “Well, you can drop me off at the hotel and be on your way,” she told him grimly. “I’m not shopping for clothes, jewels or anything else.”

  “I see.”

  She heard the humor in his tone. Giving him a different look she said, “This isn’t funny, Mr. Coulter. I’m not taking his money!”

  “Calm down, Kathy. I have a plan you just might agree to,” Mac said gently.

  “What are you talking about?” Kathy was breathing hard, her feelings raw. This man bedeviled her!

  “I happen to know of a little Catholic orphanage known as Santa Maria’s Home for the Poor on the edge of Cuzco. They’re always appreciative of receiving food, clothes, shoes and things like that for the children.” He smiled, turned and held her mutinous blue gaze. “Wouldn’t you like to spend a small fortune on them? We could buy these kids things they need, including school supplies. The sisters are schoolteachers and always need paper, pencils, crayons and other stuff. I happen to know the shops where we can get them. We could have it all delivered to the nuns who run it. How does that sound?”

  “I can’t figure you out. Are you a devil or an angel, Coulter?”

  Laughing, Mac shrugged. “Hey, I’m just trying to make you happy. That’s what the patrón ordered me to do. He didn’t specify how, only that you should come back to the villa tomorrow morning with a smile on your face.”

  “I see.” Kathy rubbed her brow. “Will he be pissed off if I buy things for the orphanage?”

  “I doubt it. He’s Peruvian. He donates a lot of money to his favorite charities in Lima, so he would understand your inclinations. Probably expects it of you.” Mac smiled again.

  “He doesn’t know me that well.”

  “The patrón is a man who lives or dies by knowing the company he keeps.” Mac bit back the rest. It was too easy to confide in Kathy Lincoln. There was just something special about her that opened his soul and made him want to trust her. But he shouldn’t do that.