Rum Runner

by Tricia Leedom

  “Critical.”

  Jimmy moved to the window and pushed the curtain aside to peer out into the storm. He squeezed his eyes shut and said a silent prayer for the kid’s recovery. He looked at Jonas again. “Did Albatross’ cronies force Banton to give us up?”

  “Romario’s sister hid in a false wall. She witnessed everything. I got there the same time Banton did and he told me where you were heading.”

  “We’ve got to get off Saba,” Jimmy said grimly.

  “How can I help?”

  “Can you procure us a bareboat charter out of St. Martin?”

  “When do you want it?”

  “As soon as the storm passes and it’s safe to travel.”

  Jonas went to the door. “Will do. I’ll keep watch for the night.”

  “Thanks, bro.”

  Jonas hesitated. “Tulio Garcia. Don’t worry about him. The boy will be safe as long as you get to Thompson first.”

  “What boy?” Sophie was standing just outside the bathroom door. She had twisted her hair up into a loose bun, but she was still wearing the wet dress. “Sorry. It got so quiet I thought your brother had left.”

  “He was just on his way out.”

  Jonas nodded at Jimmy and left without acknowledging the Duchess.

  When he was gone, she said, “Forgive me for mentioning it, but your brother is rude.”

  “He can’t help it. He was raised by wolves.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “So am I. We thank the Lord every day he doesn’t eat raw meat or shit in the backyard.”

  The Duchess sniffed. “You’re not much better, are you?”

  “Afraid not, darlin’.”

  “What boy was Jonas talking about, and what does he have to do with my father?”

  Thanks a lot, bro. For a guy who didn’t say much, he’d sure blown a gaping hole in Jimmy’s brick house this time.

  Another boom of thunder shook the little cottage as Jimmy bolted the door. “That’s just a figure of speech, darlin’, like saying ‘the man’ or ‘the dude.’” He knew the explanation was lame, but the most important part about selling a lie, even a bad one, was committing to it one hundred percent. “Jonas was saying Mad Dog will be safe as long as he doesn’t get himself caught.”

  Her tropical green gaze studied him intently. With her hair pulled back, her eyes were huge in her small round face. A pink flush stained her high cheekbones. It matched the color of her lips, which had lost their shiny gloss a long time ago. When she lifted her chin just a notch, he fought the uncharacteristic urge to squirm.

  Why did lying to this woman gnaw at him so much? She was just a means to an end. He needed her to find Mad Dog. He couldn’t chance telling her the truth. If she knew he planned to hand her daddy over to Bautista, she would bolt. Especially now. Sex hadn’t been part of the plan. He sure hadn’t seen this gut-stomping attraction coming. But as powerful as it was, he couldn’t let it distract him from his primary objective. To get the boy back safely at all costs. Well, maybe not all costs, or else he would’ve handed the Duchess over to Florez the first chance he had.

  “I hope Jonas is right and my father is safe,” Sophie said, disappearing into the bathroom.

  He should have been relieved she’d bought his bullshit, but guilt sacked him like a two-ton lineman.

  She returned a moment later with her father’s letter. “I haven’t opened it yet.”

  He forced himself to smile. “Why not? What are you waiting for?”

  She stared at him.

  He nodded.

  She pressed her lips together and took a deep breath through her nose before she sat on the edge of the bed, tore the envelope open, and read the contents aloud.

  “‘Hiya, angel, I’m sorry my last letter was so short. I’ve been on the move more than usual lately. What the hell do you mean the engagement is off? That pompous jackass better not have broken our girl’s heart!’” Sophie stopped reading and gasped. “This letter isn’t for me, it’s for my mother.” When she looked up at him, pain haunted her eyes. “It sounds as if they’ve been corresponding for some time. Maybe never stopped.”

  Jimmy shrugged. “Can’t say I’m surprised. How’d you think he knows so much about you? It only makes sense they kept in touch.”

  “But my mum despises him.”

  “Your mother has been lying to you your whole life, sweetheart. Maybe she lied about that too.”

  Sophie shook her head. “No, you don’t understand the depth of my mother’s contempt for my father. I cannot believe anyone could fake that.”

  “You think your parents were the first exes forced to communicate for the sake of their kid?”

  “He called her ‘angel,’ though. That part doesn’t make sense.”

  “Want me to read the rest?”

  “No. I’ll do it.” Her hands trembled as she lifted the paper to continue. “Tell her, she doesn’t deserve anything less than true love. Tell her, a man who truly loves her will never stop loving her even if she chews his heart up and spits it out. She deserves to have what we had once. Our life in Tortola was magical. Our little haven. Even though the ending was painful, I wouldn’t trade what we had for anything. I believe you only get one chance in a lifetime at a love like that. Tell her, if she’s lucky enough to find true love, don’t let it go. Hold onto it with everything she’s got. I know you will tell her whatever you want, but please don’t let her make the same mistakes we did.”

  A tear leaked from the corner of Sophie’s eye and meandered down her cheek. “He’s never written to me about their relationship, and my mum has never said anything good about it. She never told me they were married, let alone in love.” Her face crumpled and she covered the raw emotion with her hands. The letter slipped from her fingers and floated to the ground.

  Jimmy sat down beside her and pulled her close, tucking her face into the crook of his neck. A warm wetness tickled his skin. “Don’t cry, darlin’. If your folks were in love, maybe leaving your daddy was hard on your momma too. Ever think of that?”

  “But why did she leave him if she loved him so much?” She pulled back and looked up at Jimmy with damp, puffy eyes.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know.”

  They stared at each other.

  He couldn’t say when he sensed the shift. When the question became less about her mother and father and more about the two of them. Their situation wasn’t the same, he and Sophie weren’t in love, but saying goodbye when their adventure was over was going to be tough. Just the thought of it made his gut bottom out and his chest tighten. He suddenly had the urge to pull her closer and never let her go, but he didn’t move a muscle.

  “You’re gonna have to ask your momma that one,” he said instead, and damn it, his voice was hoarse. What the hell?

  Sophie leaned against him again and her scent filled his nose. She smelled expensive and forbidden even without the designer spritz.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “For what?”

  “I wouldn’t have gotten this far without you.”

  “Darlin’, you’ve made it this far on your own. I’m just the tour guide.”

  She laughed and the beautiful sound stabbed him right between the rib cage, in the vicinity of his heart. He was fucked. He hugged her a little tighter and rubbed her back, her very bare back. Her skin was as soft as a rose petal.

  “Come on, let’s get some shut-eye,” he mumbled into her hair. The scent of her strawberry shampoo filled his nose. He ruthlessly ignored it.

  She pressed a kiss to his throat and her warm lips sparked a flame under his skin that blazed through his body like a wildfire. His lust for her joined forces with the raw emotions she inspired inside him and together they battled his good intentions, his guilt, and his fear of impregnating her—if he hadn’t already. With that final thought, common sense won out and he summoned the strength to pull away. “I don’t have any protection, darlin’.”

  “Try the b
edside table drawer.”

  “Shit.”

  “Or don’t.” She pulled away from him and stood up. “I just thought—I mean, if you don’t want to—Never mind.” She started for the bathroom.

  He grabbed her wrist, spinning her back around to face him. The expression on her beautiful face was aloof as all get out, but her eyes betrayed her. They were wary and uncertain, and so un-Duchess-like they broke his heart.

  “Shit,” he said again. Then he tugged on her wrist a second time and she tumbled forward into his arms. He rolled them both onto the bed, turning so she was flat on her back and he was on top, squishing her into the mattress.

  Looking up at him, she said, “I don’t want to live my life with regrets, Jimmy. Do you?”

  “Shit,” he said once more before he kissed her.

  Nothing was tame about the way he plunged his tongue into her mouth and tried to touch her tonsils. She responded to his assault by looping her arms around his neck to hold him in place. Her legs locked around his waist and she arched beneath him, making it clear what she wanted from him. But he pressed his hips into hers, trying to hold her still so he could savor the tongue tango a while longer.

  When he tilted his head to switch up the angle, she groaned low in her throat. The sound made his pounding heart quicken. Down below, Little Sarge shouted mayday and ordered him into battle before the mission backfired and he blew up his own camp.

  Jimmy tore himself away from the Duchess to reach over and yank open the nightstand drawer. While he fumbled with the condom box, she went to work on his zipper. When she discovered he’d gone commando, she made a little throaty sound of approval that nearly did him in. He tore the lid of the box off and pulled out a strand of condom packets while she muscled his shorts down around his thighs. Then she scooted back to slide her pink panties down her long, lovely legs.

  He sucked in a sharp breath when she took him into her hands and began stroking him with a purpose that made his eyes roll back in his head.

  “No. No,” he muttered, half deliriously pushing her hands away. He used his teeth to tear open one of the packets and rolled the condom on before he paused to regroup. He had to if he was going to make this any good for her. With a desperation that bordered on madness, he wanted to bury himself deep and spend himself inside of her until he was a boneless pile of flesh, but even more than that, he wanted her to be right there with him all the way.

  Ignoring her when she tried to tug him on top of her, he bent his head to press a kiss between the deep V of her bodice. Her firm breasts quivered as she inhaled deeply. He kissed his way up over one mound and peeled back the clingy fabric to expose a tight pink nipple. How many poor SOBs in that bar tonight had fantasized of doing this very thing? Lust punched his groin making him see stars. He licked the pebbled nipple once before taking it into his mouth and suckling it with a gentleness that belied his hunger. She gasped and dug her fingers into his hair.

  “Please, Jimmy.”

  “Not yet.”

  “Yes, now. I can’t wait any longer.”

  He parted her with two fingers, and she made a cute little sound halfway between a whimper and a moan.

  “Damn, Duchess, you’re as taut as a tripwire.” He stroked her relentlessly, taking pleasure in watching her grow restless with the rising tension. She grabbed his wrist and forearm suddenly, groaning as she rode his hand.

  “Please—” she whispered.

  “Please what?”

  “Please don’t hold anything back. I want…”

  “What?” he prompted when her words trailed off. “What do you want?”

  “All of you. I want to feel your power.”

  His rhythm faltered, and he lifted his head from the breast he was enjoying. “You sure about that?”

  “Yes.” She opened her eyes and looked at him. “We may never have another night like this. When this is over—”

  He moved up her body so quickly, she looked surprised when he kissed her mouth to shut her up. Hell, he surprised himself. He didn’t want to think about tomorrow or next week or what would happen when they found Mitch Thompson and Jimmy betrayed one of his best friends and the woman he—

  No, he wasn’t going to go there. He needed this too. He needed to show her what she meant to him because he would never be able to tell her and very soon she wasn’t going to want to hear anything he had to say anyway.

  He slid into her swiftly, going so deep he surprised himself. She gasped his name and clung to him. He saw more stars as she contracted around him, accepting his invasion.

  When he pulled back and surged forward again, she cried so loudly the sound pierced through the rain pounding on the clay tile roof.

  His big brother once told him making love was supposed to be a marathon, not a race. With the Duchess’ hands on his ass and her ankles linked around his back, he wasn’t sure if he’d make it around the second bend of the track. He pulled out because he had to if he was going to make this good for her.

  “Why are you stopping?”

  “Turn over.” Jimmy shucked off his T-shirt and shorts and came back to her naked. He guided her onto her knees and kissed his way up her spine. He slid his hands around to cup her full breasts and toy with her hard nipples as he nuzzled her ear. “You are so sexy and beautiful,” he said. “You make my head spin, darlin’.”

  “I bet you say that to all your women.”

  “No.” He got another whiff of strawberries as he nuzzled her ear. “I mean it. You’ve had me all tied up in knots since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

  “Me too, Jimmy. Me too.”

  “Brace yourself, darlin’.”

  The head of his penis bumped her entrance as she stabilized herself on the mattress. When he pressed forward and entered her partially, she arched beneath him with a hiss. The skirt of that damned red dress rested over the crest of her ass cheeks. He slid his hands up under the hem and took hold of her hips.

  Then he sank deep.

  He increased the pace and pressure by degrees, faster and harder until his rhythm rivaled his racing heartbeat. He kept going until coherent thought liquefied into pure sensation. He kept going until Sophie’s inner muscles clenched around him like a vise and the shouts of her release dinged off the sensual haze in his brain. He kept going until his balls tingled and his lower back tightened and a stream of euphoric sensation shot up his shaft, hurtling him into another dimension. A dimension as boundless as space and limitless as infinity. A dimension where the differences between a duchess and a good old boy from Alabama didn’t exist.

  When Jimmy came back to earth sometime later, he was sprawled across Sophie’s back, smothering her into the mattress. He shoved himself up and collapsed onto his side. Reaching over, he stroked the sleek curve of her spine with his knuckle.

  She shivered.

  “You cold?”

  “No.”

  “Take that dress off and come here.” He reached down to snap the used condom off his depleted erection and tossed it on the floor.

  She faced away from him as she sat up. The scrunchy in her hair was barely hanging on. She pulled it out and tossed it on the nightstand. Then she ran her fingers through her long brown locks before her dress went the way of the scrunchy and landed on the floor. She turned off the bedside lamp and met him in the middle of the queen-sized mattress.

  He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head, savoring the warm fuzzy feeling that had sank into his bones.

  “Who is Tulio Garcia?”

  Jimmy tensed.

  “I heard Jonas tell you not to worry about the boy. That the boy would be all right, as long as we found my father first. He was referring to Tulio Garcia, wasn’t he? What aren’t you telling me, Jimmy?”

  He pulled back, but he couldn’t make out her face in the darkness. “I’m sorry, Duchess, I—” His brain scrambled for another lie, but his conscious blurted, “He’s Rigoberto García’s son.”

  “Who’s son?”

  “
Rigoberto García.” Jimmy cuddled her closer, pressing his face into her hair, and she let him. Taking a deep breath, he said, “We were SEALs together. The little shit was a talented ammunitions specialist, a five-foot-four Colombian-American with bigger cojones than men twice his size.” Jimmy smiled at the memory. “He was my best friend. He—” Jimmy closed his eyes as his chest squeezed with pain.

  The Duchess reached up and touched his cheek and the simple contact gave him the strength to continue. He pressed a kiss into her palm.

  “Big Rig gave me the handle Panama. He used to say, ‘Panama might seem cooler than a tropical breeze and as laid-back as a tourist sipping a mai tai on the beach, but don’t let him fool you. Put a gun in his hand and he’s deadlier than a hurricane with a trailer park fetish.’”

  “Considering our circumstances, that notion is oddly comforting.”

  He cupped her waist and squeezed it gently. “I’ll protect you, Duchess. To the best of my abilities, I’ll protect you.”

  She kissed a spot on his chest before she laid her cheek upon it. “When was the last time you saw your friend?”

  Jimmy swallowed the lump in his throat. “He died ten years ago last May.”

  “I’m sorry. Did he die in combat?”

  Jimmy shook his head slowly. “I killed him.”

  He felt her body tense just before a boom of thunder shook the cottage. When the sound faded, her voice cut through the darkness. “How did it happen?”

  “I was too cocky. Too arrogant. And far too confident in my abilities. One night, on a routine op, a Venezuelan pirate took Big Rig hostage and put a knife to his jugular. I stood about twenty feet away. I was the only thing standing between him and the door. Big Rig was egging me on, ’do it, Panama, shoot the bastard,’ and I didn’t think twice about taking the shot. It all happened so fast. I aimed and fired. But the pirate jerked to the left. The bullet—” Jimmy squeezed his eyes shut against the memory but that only made the images clearer in his mind. He hugged Sophie a bit tighter. “The bullet pierced Big Rig’s brain just above his right eye. The back of his head exploded out.”

  Her hand fisted against his belly.