Zeke

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Zeke Page 2

by Annette Broadrick


  With a measured tread, Zeke moved toward the woman he had flown to Mexico City to meet, disguising his feelings behind an impassive mask.

  ❧

  Angie felt as though the air terminal were rocking like an ocean liner in a storm, but since no one else seemed to be affected by any unexplained movement she decided her reaction was due to the fatigue of her recent transatlantic flight. She had been unable to do more than nap on the plane during the flight. Now that she had arrived, she hoped that her excitement at seeing her uncle in a few minutes would give her a surge of energy that would carry her through the rest of the afternoon.

  She hadn't been home in more than ten years. Despite Tio's repeated suggestions that she wait for a better time to visit, Angela had insisted that, she didn't want to wait any longer. Every time she mentioned coming back home, he always had a list of reasons why she should delay her trip.

  This time she had ignored him and come anyway. Would he forgive her for being so stubborn? Would he think that she was the same undisciplined person he had sent to Spain all those years ago?

  Hopefully she would be able to quickly convince him that it was her love for him and for her home that had made her so insistent. Now that she was an adult he needn't worry so much about her. She could look after herself. She could be a help to him, as well.

  Of course she was nervous about their initial meeting. How could she not be? But once he saw her, she knew he would forgive her for ignoring his suggestions about waiting to come visit him. He loved her. She knew that he would forgive her anything.

  By the time she cleared customs, Angie had gotten a grip on her feelings. She was ready to face her uncle and—

  A tall, broad-shouldered man coming toward her caught her attention, dispelling her reverie. He moved in an indolent stroll that emphasized the superb conditioning of bis body. Her gaze was drawn to the subtle movement of bis taut thigh muscles rippling beneath the fabric of bis snug jeans. There wasn't an ounce of fat on the man.

  She idly lifted her gaze to encompass his strong jawline, his unsmiling mouth, and a nose that looked to have been broken inore than once. A bolt of shocked awareness struck her when she made eye contact with him. He'd been watching her while she mentally inventoried his physical assets!

  Thoroughly embarrassed, Angie averted her gaze so that she was staring past him while she continued along the concourse.

  "Miss De la Garza?"

  The only thing more embarrassing than to be caught staring at a stranger was to have him speak your name. Angie knew she must be blushing and there wasn't a darned thing she could do about it.

  His deep voice had touched a vibrating response from somewhere inside of her. She shivered, confused by her inexplicable reaction to a total stranger.

  "Yes?" She paused in front of him, forcing herself to meet his dark-eyed gaze without betraying the swirl of emotions his appearance had provoked.

  "My name is Zeke Daniels. I work for Lorenzo De la Garza. He sent me to meet your plane since he couldn't arrange his schedule to come, himself."

  She looked around the busy area. "You mean my uncle isn't here?" she asked, suddenly feeling like a lost child who had not been claimed by her parents.

  "That's right." He looked past her at the man who pushed a load of luggage on a dolly. "Are all of these yours?"

  She stiffened. "Yes." Her gaze met his without flinching. "Do you have a problem with the amount of luggage I chose to bring with me?"

  He shrugged. "Not really." He took her elbow. "We can grab a cab to take us over to the private hangar where your uncle's plane is being serviced."

  She heard his words with dismay. She had hoped that Tio would agree to spend the night in Mexico City and give her a chance to rest before traveling any farther.

  She glanced out one of the windows along the concourse at the dark clouds that had rapidly filled the sky. "But there's a storm moving in. Surely you aren't planning to fly in this weather?"

  Zeke dropped her arm and placed his hands on his hips. "Look, lady, I'm just trying to do what I was told, okay? I'm not overjoyed by the prospect of flying through turbulent weather myself, but it wouldn't be the first time, and I doubt it will be the last."

  Angie nibbled on her bottom lip and looked around her. She was overwhelmingly tired, so tired she felt as though she could sleep for a month without stirring.

  She hadn't eaten much on the plane and was hungry. Her uncle's nonappearance had hit her hard. She knew he was not pleased with her, but to send a hired man to pick her up as though she were unwanted freight had pierced all her defenses.

  Blindly she turned away from him and started down the concourse alone. Zeke caught up with her in three long strides and took her arm once again. She would have walked into an oncoming couple if he hadn't steered her deftly around them. Angie never noticed.

  "Look, I can understand if you're afraid of flying in a small plane in bad weather. I'm sure Lorenzo would understand if we stay over. We'll go to one of the hotels, check in and have an early dinner. How does that sound?"

  Another wave of dizziness swept over her and she stumbled. Zeke slid his arm around her waist in alarm. Her fair skin had turned a deathly white.

  "Don't faint on me now, Princess," he muttered under his breath. He guided her to one of the entrance doors, pushed it open, and waved at the nearest taxi driver. While the driver and the baggage handler began transferring her luggage to the trunk of the taxi, Zeke eased Angie into the back seat.

  She leaned her head against the seat and closed her eyes with a sigh.

  As soon as the luggage was stowed, Zeke gave the driver the name of one of the luxury hotels, then crawled in and sat beside Angie.

  She opened her eyes. "Sorry for the wobbly knees. I guess I'm just not used to traveling."

  Zeke recognized the consequences of crossing several time zones in a short time. "Don't worry about it... happens to everybody. I should have thought about it myself and made plans to stay over. I'll call Lorenzo as soon as we get checked in."

  What had happened to the wall he had intended to place between them? Seeing her so wan and vulnerable had wiped out all of his careful planning. Frowning, he looked away from her and stared at the passing scenery.

  The silence that filled the cab for long minutes was interrupted by Angie's asking, "Did you say your name is Zeke?"

  He looked around. "That's right."

  She hadn't lifted her head from where it reclined against the seat. Her eyelids were puffy, making her look as though she had just woken up. Her sultry mouth drew his eyes, causing his body to react. Once again he looked away, this time clenching his jaw and reminding his body that he was the one in charge here and this woman was definitely off-limits.

  His traitorous body ignored his lofty mental reprimands, and he found himself growing uncomfortable in his tight-fitting jeans.

  "Are you a native of Mexico?''

  He shifted restlessly. Still not looking at her, he replied, "No. I was born in South Texas."

  "Ah. That explains why you speak Spanish like a native."

  When he made no other response, she asked, "Have you worked for my uncle long?"

  He shrugged. "A few weeks."

  "Did he hire you as his pilot?"

  Since his piloting skills had been part of his resume, he could only guess at that one. "Among other things," he said.

  "I'm eager to get back to the hacienda. Even though I've been gone so long, the mountains overlooking Monterrey have always seemed like home to me. I dream about them at times, thinking I'm back there. Then I wake up and discover that I'm still in Spain. I never knew how painful homesickness can be."

  "I wouldn't know."

  "I don't suppose you have that problem, living so close to where you were born. Do you visit there often?"

  "No."

  She waited, but he didn't add anything more.

  They drew up in front of the hotel at the same time the low-hanging clouds dropped an avalanche of water
upon the city. The doorman, prepared, hurried over to the taxi with a large umbrella.

  Zeke got out first, then offered his hand to Angela. Her fingers felt small and delicate in his hand. As soon as was reasonably polite, he drew away from her, ostensibly to oversee the transfer of luggage, but more importantly to experience the driving force of the cold rain on his overheated body.

  By the time he entered the hotel, Angela was already at the registration desk. When he walked up she turned to him, obviously upset. "They don't have any vacancies. They have two separate conventions booked and all the rooms are spoken for." Even as she spoke, her eyes widened. "Oh, Zeke, you're soaked."

  The water had worked its cure, leaving its uncomfortable aftermath of wet clothing. He ruefully plucked at the front of the cotton shirt that was now plastered to his chest, pushed his hair away from his face and looked at the hotel employee behind the desk.

  Reaching into his wallet, he pulled out a large-denomination bill, palmed it and rested his hand on the counter. Moving his hand slightly so the amount of the bill showed between his thumb and his forefinger, he said, "As you can see—" he glanced down at his clothes with resignation "—we really need a place to stay for the night. Would you mind checking again to see if you have anything available?"

  Zeke wasn't too surprised a few minutes later when the clerk returned to say he had found a cancellation he had overlooked.

  During their ride up in the elevator, Zeke tried to think of where he could find a shop to buy some clothes, since he hadn't brought any along on this trip. The bellman bringing their luggage held the door for them, then led them down a long hallway before pausing in front of one of the doors.

  When the bellman stepped aside, Zeke followed Angela into what looked to be a sitting room. Open double doors revealed a large bedroom.

  Zeke turned to the bellman. "I don't think the registration clerk understood that we need two rooms."

  The bellman nodded. "Yes, sir. You're fortunate that this suite has not been claimed. This sofa—" he pointed "—makes out into a second bed. I'm afraid it's the best we can do under the circumstances."

  "I'll sleep in here if you'd like the bedroom," Angela said quietly.

  "Don't be ridiculous. Of course you can have the bedroom."

  "There's another complete bath in here," the bellman said, opening a door off the sitting room. Then he pushed the cart of luggage into the bedroom and began to unload it.

  Zeke turned to Angie, his frustration mounting. "I'm sorry, Miss De la Garza, I—"

  "Please, it isn't your fault. And De la Garza is too formal. My friends call me Angie." She smiled at him. "I hope that we will become friends, Zeke."

  Feeling trapped by circumstances over which he had no control, Zeke tipped the bellman and watched as he left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

  "You really should get out of those wet clothes, don't you think?" she asked after a moment.

  Zeke growled, "Great idea. Hope you have something in one of those suitcases for me to wear because I neglected to bring a change of clothes on this little jaunt."

  Angie nodded. "Actually, I do, if you don't mind going a little informal.''

  "Don't be silly. I couldn't possibly wear anything of yours."

  "I was given a terry robe for my birthday, my girlfriend thought 'one size fits all' meant just that. Unfortunately, the robe swallowed me. I brought it, thinking I would give it to Tio. I'm sure it would fit you."

  Zeke sneezed. He faced the fact that he didn't have a great many choices at the moment. The rain continued to beat against the windowpane. He sure as hell didn't feel like going shopping while in his wet clothes and the thought of getting dry appealed to him immensely.

  Angie went into the bedroom and began to sort through her various bags. Opening one, she made a sound of satisfaction and brought him a forest-green terry-cloth robe. He almost smiled at its size. It would come very close to fitting him, which meant she would be lost in it.

  "Thanks," he muttered, taking the robe and going into the bathroom.

  He pulled off his boots before peeling off his wet jeans and draped the jeans across the counter to dry. Then he removed his shirt and did the same thing. Even his underwear and socks were damp. After he took off his socks and slid off his shorts, he turned on the shower.

  The warm water caressed his chilled skin and he groaned with pleasure. He blanked out his mind to any thought other than the pleasure of that moment. Only when the water began to cool did he readjust it, then he picked up the soap and lazily washed himself.

  He wasn't sorry that they weren't flying back today. He hadn't been pleased with the weather forecast when he had landed earlier and turned the plane over to the service department of the privately owned hangar. Perhaps it was just as well Angela had pushed him to delay their departure.

  Angela. The familiar smiling photograph flashed into his mind to be slowly superimposed by a newer image, a more sedate, formal image of Angie.

  "My friends call me Angie," she had said. "I hope that we will become friends, Zeke."

  With another groan he turned off the water and grabbed a towel, vigorously drying himself. Maybe it was better that they weren't flying in this weather, maybe she did need a good night's rest before seeing Lorenzo again, but damn! why did they have to share the same suite?

  He needed some distance from her, at least for a few hours. The last thing he needed was to be parading around in a bathrobe while she . . . .

  He didn't know what she would be doing, but he soon found out. When he came out of the bathroom, she was waiting for him in the sitting room, looking a little anxious.

  "I, uh, hope you don't mind, but I would much prefer eating up here than having to go to a restaurant. So I called room service. I ordered their special for the evening, a seafood dish, for both of us. If you'd rather have something else—"

  "No, I don't care what I have."

  "I, uh, also called Tio to tell him about the storm and that I talked you into staying overnight. He wanted to speak with you and I explained that you were in the shower." She stopped and nibbled on her bottom lip. "Then I had to explain about the lack of space in the hotel at the moment."

  Zeke leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb and crossed his arms over his chest. "I bet he was delighted to hear about that."

  She shook her head. "Not really. He wants you to call him as soon as you're out of the shower."

  "Somehow that doesn't surprise me."

  "Our food should be here in another fifteen minutes or so. I'd like to shower and change before then."

  "Don't let me stop you."

  Her worried gaze met his. "I feel as though all of this—" she waved her hands at the room, at the rain beating at the windows "—is somehow my fault. Tio sounded upset and I didn't know what more to say."

  "Go get your shower and stop worrying about it. You have no control over hotel conventions or the weather. Your uncle's just had a lot on his mind lately."

  "Sitting here, waiting for you to come out, I finally realized that my stubbornness has once again gotten me into trouble. I thought he would feel differently about my visit once I got here, but if anything, he sounds almost angry that I've inconvenienced him."

  Zeke straightened and moved over to where she sat on the edge of the couch. He leaned down and took her hand, pulling her up to stand beside him.

  "Look, Angie. You're exhausted, that's all. When we get too tired, everything looks gloomy and nothing seems right. Don't let it color your judgment.' I'm glad you ordered in." He glanced down at his robe. "I'm certainly not dressed for a restaurant. Go ahead and take your shower. You'll feel better. Then we'll eat and you can get to bed early."

  She turned and walked out of the room and for a moment Zeke felt a strong need to wrap his arms around her and hold her for a long moment.

  Instead, he picked up the phone and called his boss.

  Chapter 2

  "What the hell is going on?"

&nbs
p; Zeke jerked the phone receiver away from his ear for a moment before responding to Lorenzo. "I was under the impression that Angie explained the circumstances to you."

  "I want to know how you managed to arrange to spend the night in my niece's room, Daniels."

  "I'm afraid I had nothing to do with the hotel accommodations. And I won't be spending the night in your niece's room, Lorenzo. There is a bedroom and a sitting room. In case Angie didn't mention it, the sofa in the sitting room makes out into a bed. I'm sure I'll be quite comfortable."

  "I don't give a damn about your comfort. What I care about is my niece. What I care about is her reputation. Now why didn't you ignore her when she asked to stay overnight and get the hell back here?"

  Once again Zeke stared out the window. The wind and the rain were still very much in evidence. "Look, Lorenzo, the forecast for this afternoon and evening was for heavy thunderstorms, which is the biggest reason I agreed to stay overnight when she suggested it. Angie didn't like the idea of flying in heavy weather. I saw no reason not to accommodate hen I didn't see any emergency about getting her home today under these circumstances. The storm should be gone by morning. The weather bureau is predicting clear skies and sunny weather for tomorrow. There was no need to take unnecessary risks."

  "I don't like it."

  "You don't like what?"

  "Your staying there together."

  Zeke sighed. "All right. I'll find another hotel to stay in. Will that make you feel better?"

  "Considerably."

  "Anything else?"

  "Yes. We found an intruder on the grounds today. That new surveillance equipment you suggested paid off. We wouldn't have known he got over the wall, otherwise."

  "Glad to be of service. Did you find out what he was doing there?"

  "Not yet, but I intend to. When do you expect to get here tomorrow?"

  "We should be there by noon. If you like, I'll deal with the man and see what I can find out for you."

  "What I want to know is who's behind this rash of break-ins and other problems. I'm sick to death of living under siege against an enemy I can't identify."

 

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