Rum Runner

by Tricia Leedom

  She looked up at her father. Philip Linus was dressed impeccably in a three-piece Armani business suit and looked every inch the powerful billionaire entrepreneur that he was. “I don’t feel right about this, Daddy.”

  “I allowed you and Courtney to convince me to keep Mr. Rios in my employ, and I’m being excessively generous offering his boy a full scholarship to one of the most prestigious colleges in the country on the condition you stay away from him. You swore you would do anything to repay my benevolence. This is your chance.”

  “Stanford is a great school, but it isn’t necessary to send him so far away from his family. I swear I won’t talk to him anymore.”

  “It’s Stanford or nothing. The distance will do you both good.”

  April closed her mouth. It was useless to argue with her father when he was like this. Could she do it? Could she betray Sophie to help Damian? If she didn’t give her father what he wanted, would she be aiding Courtney in her mission to get rid of her before the new baby came?

  “You have two minutes to tell me what you learned in that telephone conversation or the deal is off.”

  “You won’t hurt her, will you?”

  Her father reared back as if she’d slapped him. He covered his mouth with his hand and rubbed his jaw. “Is that what you think of me? Do you think I’m capable of physically hurting another human being? I’ve been called many things in my lifetime, words that would singe your ears, but I’ve never been accused of being a monster.”

  April’s heart pounded with guilt. “I didn’t say you were a monster.”

  “But your words suggested as much.”

  “I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m sorry!”

  “I have important business with the girl’s father. I only need to locate him.”

  “Then why can’t you just explain that to Jimmy? He’ll understand.”

  “Jimmy Panama is a drunk and a buffoon. My men tried to make contact with Miss Davies-Stone when she was on the island, but he completely misread the situation. You’re a smart girl, April. Use your logic. What reason would I have to hurt an innocent young woman?”

  April couldn’t imagine one. Maybe he was right. Jimmy used to be a SEAL, but he drank a lot of beer and was always cracking jokes. She didn’t really know him.

  Still. She couldn’t shake the feeling in her gut that something wasn’t right.

  Her father moved to the minibar to pour himself a Scotch. “Do the right thing, April, so Damian Rios can go to Stanford and Mr. Rios can keep his business.”

  April’s head came up. “You already promised Mr. Rios wouldn’t lose his business over this!”

  “And I’ll keep that promise as long as you meet your end of the bargain and tell me what I want to know.” He paused to drop two ice cubes into his glass. “If you don’t, I’ll have no further need for Mr. Rios’ services, nor will anyone else on this island. In half a minute, the deal will be off the table.”

  April swallowed hard.

  “Twenty seconds.” Her father looked down at his watch. “Fifteen.”

  She closed her eyes and bowed her head. “They’re in Hell.”

  “Now is not the time for humor. Get out of my office. I have a call to make.”

  “I’m serious, Daddy. Sophie said she’s literally been through Hell. She means Hell’s Gate. I’m sure of it. Mom took me there on vacation when I was ten. I hated the place for the same reason she loved it, because there was nothing to do except go hiking. Hell’s Gate is on a tiny island near St. Martin called Saba.”

  “You’ve done the right thing, April.”

  “I have?” Tears stung her eyes. She got up and paced away from the desk. “It doesn’t feel like it.”

  Her father slammed his drink down on the minibar counter. “You will stop this childish rebellion at once or you will find yourself finishing out the school year with a tutor in a secluded Alpine cabin away from phones, shopping, boys, and all of your friends. Do I make myself clear?”

  April stood in the middle of the room, arms wrapped around herself, shaking. She nodded.

  “If I find out you’ve spoken to Sophie Davies-Stone or Jimmy Panama or anyone else connected to them, especially that Rios boy, I promise you, you will regret it. Now get out of my office.”

  April made a beeline for the door and was halfway down the hall before she staggered to a stop in front of the greenhouse.

  She caught herself on the doorframe as a strangled sob escaped her throat.

  She’d just betrayed one friend for another. How was that right?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Something didn’t feel right. Jimmy peeked out the window curtain again. They’d come back to the cottage about an hour earlier, after grabbing a meal and doing a little shopping in town. He’d been careful to watch for a tail, but nobody had seemed suspicious. He couldn’t see much out of the window. Night had come early thanks to the tropical depression bearing down on the island and the overgrown trees and jungle scrub shrouding the cottage didn’t help.

  Stewie had recommended the rental, one of six glorified sheds that lined a secluded stone stairway that led up to the owner’s place at the top of the hill. They were decorated from the inside out like gingerbread houses—cozy for a romantic getaway with your honey, but a damned nuisance when you were on the run from a megalomaniac with unlimited resources. Instead of checking into a traditional hotel-motel, Jimmy figured they would be harder to find if they rented the love nest and pretended to be an item. They were relatively safe, but something was still making his skin crawl.

  “Sophie?” He shouted loud enough to be heard over the hairdryer.

  The noise switched off and she came out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around her luscious body.

  His mind went blank.

  “Do you want me?”

  He blinked. Now that was a loaded question if he ever heard one. “What did you and April talk about on the phone?”

  “Not much. She was telling me about places to visit while I was in Jamaica.”

  “Anything else?”

  “I told her how hellacious the trip has been.”

  “You didn’t happen to mention we were in Saba?”

  Sophie rolled her eyes. “You must think I’m a total imbecile. Stop being so paranoid. I haven’t told a soul where we are.” She disappeared back into the bathroom.

  Someone pounded on the cottage door. Jimmy reached for his gun in the back of his waistband and came up empty. Scanning the room, he snagged the weapon off the nightstand and went to look out the peephole. The sight of Stewie’s shiny noggin put him at ease.

  “I really appreciate this, Jimmy,” Stewie said as he danced into the room holding a shopping bag. “I just know this is going to work. Where’s Sophie?”

  “Getting ready.”

  “Tell her to wear this.” He held out the bag.

  “She’s got her own clothes. She bought a few things in town this afternoon.”

  “No, it has to be this dress or the plan won’t work. If she doesn’t wear it, the deal is off.”

  “Okay, chill out. I’ll give it to her.” Jimmy took the bag. When he lifted his hand to knock on the bathroom door, Sophie cracked it two inches.

  “It’s fine. I’ll wear it,” she said.

  Despite his vow to keep his hands off the Duchess, his eyes had a mind of their own. When she opened the door wider to take the package, he caught a glimpse of her sexy pale pink bra and matching panties, and he didn’t have the decency to look away.

  Stewie sat on the edge of the queen-size bed, his red Hawaiian shirt and ratty cutoffs clashing with the prissy pastel comforter.

  “You mind?” Jimmy snapped at him. “The lady don’t want you on her bed.”

  “Looks like she doesn’t have the same qualms about you. I thought she’s getting married in a couple of weeks.”

  “She is.”

  “Then what’s your stuff doing in her room?”

  “I’m just keeping a close eye on her.�
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  “I can’t say I blame you, but she’s pregnant, man.”

  “She doesn’t know that for sure,” Jimmy snapped a bit too harshly and Stewie’s eyebrows shot up. Too late, Jimmy realized he was blurring the lines between fantasy and reality. He continued in a calmer tone, “She just found out. It’s too early to tell if the kid will take, you know?”

  “That’s pessimistic, even for you.”

  “How do I look?” The question came from behind Jimmy.

  When he turned around, his gut bottomed and he forgot how to speak.

  Stewie slid off the bed and came up beside Jimmy, his eyeballs fixated on the Duchess. He crossed his arms and nodded with approval. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”

  “Do I look absolutely ridiculous?”

  The red mini tank-dress hugged her curves like a wet suit. The hem barely covered the silky pink panties Jimmy had stolen a peek at a few moments ago. The halter-top bodice dipped so low you could see the entire inside curves of her full breasts. She’d ditched the sexy pink bra. Her erect nipples stood out behind the clingy fabric, which meant she was either cold or turned on by the idea of dressing like a high-priced hooker.

  “Nope,” Jimmy said finally finding his voice. “You ain’t wearing that getup to a bar.”

  “You’re absolutely right. I must look ridiculous.”

  “You look like a friggin’ bombshell,” Stewie said. When Jimmy shot him a warning look, he backed up, arms raised in supplication. “All right. Keeping my mouth shut.”

  Jimmy massaged his throbbing temples with his thumb and forefinger.

  “Well, I feel like a friggin’ bombshell,” the Duchess said with a growing smile.

  “As you should,” Stewie agreed and then slapped a hand over his mouth.

  “You stay out of this.” The throbbing in Jimmy’s head was about to turn into a full-blown brain hemorrhage. “And you—” he began, but Sophie walked past them to check herself out in the dresser mirror. That was when he realized the goddamned dress was backless down to the arch of her ass.

  His head exploded. “Nope. No fucking way.”

  “Stewie wants me to make his ex-girlfriend jealous. If he thinks this dress will help me accomplish that task, then I’m going to wear it.” Sophie ran her fingers through her sleek brown hair, fluffing it.

  “Oh, it’ll help all right,” Stewie said. “It’ll drive Leiko crazy. When she saw this dress at Griffin’s On The Road, she went absolutely nuts for it, but it doesn’t come in petite extra-small.”

  “She’ll go mad when she sees me wearing her dress and chatting up her guy. It’s a brilliant plan.”

  Jimmy moved behind her and spoke to her reflection in the mirror. “You can do the same job wearing your own clothes.” His gaze drifted down her back, across all that smooth exposed skin. Swimming naked this morning had given her a tinge of color. Now everybody and their uncle was going to see it. Jimmy’s gut clenched.

  “I don’t understand what the problem is?” She turned to face him and her unencumbered breasts jiggled. “If wearing this costume for a few hours will help me find my father, it’s not such a big sacrifice, is it?” She reached out and raised his chin with a finger. “My eyes are up here, sir.”

  So they were. “Do what you want,” he grumbled as moved away to put some space between them.

  “What’s the plan, Stewie?” Sophie asked.

  “Leiko broke up with me because she says she prefers strong independent men. She said she likes a challenge and I was too easy to catch.”

  “You want to make her jealous so she’ll want you back.”

  “Yes, but that won’t be enough. Leiko’s suspicious by nature, so we’re really going to have to sell it. Once things start to get hot and heavy between us, Panama has to come in and stir things up. The two of us will get into a fight over you and I’ll knock him out.”

  Jimmy snorted at the unlikelihood of that scenario happening in real life, but no one spared him a glance.

  “If you win me, how will that get you Leiko?”

  Stewie gave her one of his Cheshire cat grins. “I’m going to tell you that you’re more trouble than you’re worth and kick you to the curb. If I know my girl, Leiko will totally get off on the whole scene.”

  Jimmy put his hands on his hips. “Sounds like you have it all figured out. Explain the part about getting hot and heavy again. What exactly do you want Sophie to do?”

  “Only what she’s comfortable with. You just have to make Leiko believe you want me. Remember to stay in character. She’ll be watching you like a hawk from the moment she sees you in that dress.”

  “I’ll do my best.” Sophie went to the closet and came back five inches taller. If the dress said come hither, the black, steel-tipped stilettos screamed do me now.

  “Those are hot,” Stewie said. “Great choice. Hey, I’ll see you two down at the bar.”

  Jimmy followed his friend to the door and locked it behind him. When he turned around, Sophie was standing in front of the dresser mirror, powdering her nose.

  “I thought I told you to buy sensible shoes.”

  “Basic black is always sensible.”

  “I hope you bought a pair of sneakers and some practical clothes.”

  “I did, much to my dismay.” She applied pink gloss to her lips. “Do you really think Stewie has information about my father?”

  “Do you think I’d be playing along with this farce if I didn’t? The postman only comes through here once a month. If Mitch gave Stewie a letter to mail, it’s possible he still has it.”

  “And Stewie said the letter is addressed to Woldingham, England? He couldn’t possibly have guessed the location of my stepfather’s estate.”

  “That’s the only reason I’m inclined to believe him.”

  She rubbed her lips together to distribute the gloss and looked at him in the mirror. “My father hasn’t written to me in Woldingham since I moved to London.”

  Jimmy shrugged. “Maybe he didn’t think it was safe to send the letter to your place. Look, I don’t want you to get your hopes up, Duchess. The letter might not contain any clues to your daddy’s whereabouts.”

  She turned around to face him and the sight of her in that getup in full makeup and fuck-me heels drop-kicked his brain into next Tuesday.

  “It’s all we’ve got to go on though, isn’t it?”

  He stared at her, not comprehending what she said until she elaborated.

  “We need to see what’s inside that letter, and if this is what it takes to make that possible, I’m game to have a go at it.”

  He grumbled a few choice words about Stewie and his scheme.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing. Let’s get this show on the road.”

  Several pairs of eyes zeroed in on Sophie when she entered the bar alone. The three-piece steel drum band up on stage shifted to an instrumental version of The Drifter’s “Save the Last Dance for Me.” She let the door close behind her and took a moment to survey the room. A handful of patrons sat at the tables near the stage watching a middle-aged couple show off on the dance floor. A dozen more people occupied the bar stools. The hodgepodge of characters with their garish island-wear and leathery skin looked as if they belonged in a dodgy little pub on the edge of a place called Hell.

  Sophie made her way to the bar and slid onto a stool. She made eye contact with Stewie and smiled. He reached her before the other bartender did.

  “Hey! Glad you didn’t change your mind.”

  “I couldn’t change my mind. You have something I want. I’ll have a vodka tonic, please.” When Stewie set the drink in front of her, she said, “Where’s your girl?”

  “At the end of the bar. The Japanese spitfire staring daggers at you. She’s really nuts about that dress.”

  The expression on Leiko’s face reminded Sophie of a housecat she’d had as a child. The frustrated beast had spent days on end staring at the feral cats in the garden with the same maniacal mix
of envy and loathing.

  Sophie sucked up her nerve and toyed with Stewie’s name badge. “Let’s see how nuts she is about you, shall we?” She pulled him across the bar and planted a closed-mouth kiss on his lips. His knees must have buckled, because he started to sink. When he bumped her drink, she tightened her grip on his T-shirt to hold him still. She counted to ten and let him go.

  Stewie stared at her, his gaping mouth smudged with rose tinted lip-gloss.

  “Hey, who do I have to suck face with around here to get a drink?” A bearded man in a turquoise Hawaiian shirt waved a twenty in Stewie’s direction.

  His bald head flushed with red blotches. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

  Sophie took a sip of vodka tonic and stole a peek at Leiko over the rim of her glass. The tiny woman’s dour expression hadn’t changed. When she suddenly quirked an eyebrow at her, Sophie averted her gaze and set her drink down on the bar a bit too hard. The liquid sloshed over her fingers.

  “Damn it.” She reached for a napkin.

  She was dabbing at the mess when a black-haired, blue-eyed Romeo filled the space next to her. He flashed his bleached white teeth, smiling as he placed two shot glasses on the bar, both filled with a creamed-coffee-colored liquid. “My name is Christian, and I was wondering if you’d like to have an orgasm with me.”

  Sophie scrunched her nose. “Does that line actually work?”

  “What line? I was talking about the shots. I have two of them here.” He slid one of the glasses toward of Sophie. “Coffee liqueur, amaretto, Irish crème, and vodka. The vodka technically makes it a Screaming Orgasm, but I didn’t want to sound too presumptuous.”

  “Of course not.”

  “Try it. I promise it will blow your mind.”

  “I fancy it will.” Sophie stole another glance at Leiko. The woman was watching her like a skeptic at a magic show just waiting for her to muck up the trick. Sophie pulled the glass closer. “Tonight’s your lucky night, Christian, because it just so happens I’m in the mood for an orgasm.”

  Christian leaned closer so that his warm breath tickled her exposed shoulder. “If things go well, the night will be lucky for both of us.”