Cutter's Lady

by Candace Camp

  “I don’t know. You are the one who ordered us to come here,” Leslie responded.

  “Oh, no, no, no. You must not consider it as that. These policemen, sometimes they give the wrong impression.” Maldenado made a deprecating face. “When I was notified you had arrived in La Luz, I was most surprised and concerned. I wish only to assist you.” He turned his shrewd gaze on Cutter. “You are Mrs. Harper’s traveling companion?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your name is familiar to some of my associates.”

  “I imagine it would be,” Cutter replied evenly. “I lived here for several years.”

  “You worked for the dictators who ruled our country in the past.”

  “I worked for the United States,” Cutter corrected quietly. “There are others like me now working for your government.”

  “Not exactly like you, I think.”

  “Close enough.”

  “One of your trainees was Vicente Mora, no?” Maldenado went on.

  “Yes. He was on the opposite side then.”

  “Have you seen him currently?”

  Cutter shook his head. “Not in many years.”

  Maldenado’s mouth turned downward in a sneer. “A foolish man. A boaster. The army will destroy him. The newspapers make much of him, but they are mistaken. He has few followers.”

  “Surely the San Cristóbalian newspapers don’t praise him.”

  “No, of course it is not that. They have too much sense to be taken in. It is the foreign journalists—they believe too much.” He paused, then asked abruptly. “Why did you bring the señora here? It is very dangerous.”

  “Like you, we are confident that the army has things well in hand. Mrs. Harper wants to be here to pay the ransom as soon as the terrorists demand it.”

  They were talking about her as if she wasn’t even there, Leslie thought irritably and jumped into the conversation, “Mr. Cutter did not bring me anywhere. Payment of the ransom will be much easier if I am here. ”

  Maldenado shook his head. “No, no, no, señora. You don’t understand. It is better not to pay.”

  “I’d rather pay and get Blake back than stand on principle.”

  Maldenado turned to Cutter. “I think it is much better if you take the señora to the United States. What if the terrorists try to kidnap her, too? She has more wealth than her ex-husband.”

  “Ex-husband?” Cutter asked in a stunned voice. He cast Leslie a single thunderous glance, then returned his attention to Maldenado. “Miss Harper,” he said distinctly, “is better protected than her ex-husband was.”

  “Still, it does no good to stay here. We are doing everything that can be done. We have men looking for these terrorists. Take her home, Mr. Cutter.”

  “Mr. Cutter does not have that power,” Leslie snapped. “If you want to convince me of something, Mr. Maldenado, I suggest you talk to me.”

  Maldenado turned to her, startled. “Pardon me, señora. I meant no—that is, I am assuming Mr. Cutter handles problems for you.”

  “I make my own decisions,” Leslie stated flatly.

  “Then I will say to you that it is better to go. You will do nothing here. We are doing everything that can be done.”

  “I have been calling you for almost three weeks, and so far your government hasn’t done a thing.”

  “No, no, that is not true. These things are, how you say, delicate? They take time. The police have been searching for Señor Westfield.”

  “Have you learned anything new? Do you know where he is?”

  He shook his head. “Regrettably, no. There are no clues. He seems to have vanished.”

  “Perhaps he will reappear when the terrorists know that I am in the country, ready and willing to pay.”

  “You are endangering yourself needlessly.”

  “It’s not ‘needlessly.’ If you do locate Blake, I’ll be able to put him on the first flight home. If the terrorists demand a ransom, I’ll be here to pay it.”

  “But you will be in the way of our detectives.”

  “I have no intention of impeding your investigation, I assure you.”

  “People will come, giving you false clues, just for the money. It will hurt the investigation. I urge you to leave, señora. Most strongly.”

  “Are you throwing me out of the country?”

  Maldenado drew back, horrified. “No, señora. How can you say such a thing? We are interested in your safety. We are asking you to do what is best for all.”

  “I don’t happen to think it’s best.”

  Maldenado sighed. “You make it very difficult to deal with you.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t intend to. But neither do I intend to leave. I’m certain I can help Blake.”

  Maldenado raised an admonitory finger, all pretense of the affable diplomat gone. “Don’t do anything foolish, señora. This is a matter for the police, remember.” Leslie gave a short nod without speaking. Maldenado didn’t look pleased. “You will be staying at El Palacio throughout your stay in this country?”

  “We might go to Costa Linda,” Leslie evaded.

  Maldenado looked at Cutter, who gazed back at him with a clear, utterly blank expression. The official scowled and repeated, “Don’t do anything foolish.”

  He escorted them out of his office and down to the front door, leaving them there with a bobbing bow. Leslie pushed through the front door and into the sunlight, Cutter on her heels.

  “Well!” Leslie sighed, straightening her jacket with a sharp tug. “Apparently you get driven here, but you have to walk back home. Of course, I guess people are just grateful to get out of there.”

  Cutter made no answer as he took her arm in a steely grasp and propelled her down the street. Leslie glanced up at him, a trifle alarmed, but he didn’t return her look. Instead, he stared straight ahead as he marched along, jaw set and features tight.

  “Is something the matter?” Leslie asked uncertainly.

  He said nothing, merely shooting her a hard glance. Leslie didn’t know what to think. Did Cutter believe they were in some kind of danger? Was that why he was hustling her along like this? He looked angry, though she didn’t know where the anger was directed. He had looked surprised and irritated when that gossip Maldenado said Blake was her ex-husband, but surely that wasn’t enough to make him this upset.

  When they reached the hotel, Cutter swept her through the lobby and into the elevator. They rode up the elevator in silence. The elevator doors opened on their floor, and Cutter shot out. Leslie followed more slowly, pulling her keycard from her purse. Cutter jerked it from her hand and opened the door. Leslie went inside, Cutter right after her. He closed the door behind him sharply.

  Leslie whirled around to face him. “Now will you kindly tell me what is going on? Why did we run all the way from Maldenado’s office?”

  Cutter’s eyes blazed. “Was that true? Is this guy your ex, not your husband?”

  “Well, yes.” Leslie swallowed. Why was he so angry about it? Why had she fudged about it in the first place?

  “That’s great. Just great!” he snapped. “What else have you neglected to tell me? Huh? That he was working for the CIA?”

  “Absolutely not!” Leslie gaped. “I don’t understand why you’re getting so worked up about it. What difference does it make?”

  “What difference! Damn it, I’m risking my life here, and you don’t even tell me the truth! How can I trust you about anything else you’ve said?”

  “Cutter, you’re being unreasonable. It wasn’t that big a deal.”

  “No? If it’s a ‘little deal,’ then it’s okay to lie?”

  “It wasn’t a lie, exactly.”

  “Then what would you call it? You told me he was your husband, and he’s not.” Cutter didn’t know exactly why learning that Blake was Leslie’s former husband had infuriated him so. He only knew that when Maldenado told him, it had hit him like a fist, stunning and maddening. He thought of the times he had looked at her and felt desire beginning
to stir in him but had reminded himself that she was married. “Why did you do it? Did you think you were safe from me if you were married? Huh? Is that it? Did you think even I wouldn’t make a pass at a grieving wife?”

  As he spoke, he walked toward her, his steps slow and deliberate. His voice had lost its roar and turned low and silken, but it made him seem all the more dangerous. Leslie backed up a step or two. “Cutter, this is ridiculous. I said he was my husband because it seemed easier. That’s all.”

  “Easier.” He stopped inches away from her and gripped her arms. “Oh, yeah, it was easier. Then you wouldn’t have to deal with this.” He lifted her up and into him and slowly his head lowered, green eyes boring into hers. Leslie stared up at him, mesmerized, feeling helpless in a way she had never known before. Her heart pounded and her breath came in little jerks. She was a little alarmed—and even more, filled with anticipation.

  His lips touched hers, hard and demanding, and his scent filled her nostrils. Hot breath brushed her cheek, and Cutter’s warmth enveloped her. Leslie’s mouth opened under the urgency of his lips, and his tongue entered her knowingly. His lips ground against hers, and his tongue swirled and stroked in a soft, enticing sensual way. A wild, electric pleasure shot down through her body and slammed into her gut. Leslie had never felt such quick, intense pleasure, and the sheer magnitude of it scared her. Suddenly she knew she had to get away or she would be consumed by it, burned up.

  Leslie twisted her head and jerked away from him. Cutter let her go, and his eyes flew open in surprise. It had astonished him almost as much as it had Leslie when he kissed her. He hadn’t planned it; he had told himself several times that he wouldn’t do it. Sheer instinct had moved him, and it hadn’t been wrong; the power of their kiss rocked him. Suddenly his body was surging with a fierce and primitively male desire. He had no conscious thought, but every fiber of his body was filled with the primal knowledge that she belonged to him. He started after her.

  “No!” Leslie side-stepped him. “Don’t you dare!”

  He stopped, the mists clearing from his head. “Why? Leslie…”

  “What a typical male reaction!” she said scornfully. “Some instinct must have told me to say I was still married. As soon as you find out I’m not, you jump on me.”

  “I didn’t jump on you,” he grated out. “I kissed you, and as I remember, you responded.”

  “You grabbed me and kissed me without so much as a second for me to say anything about it! You’re as bad as that archaic macho government employee back there who kept addressing his conversation to you, when I was the one it concerned!”

  “What the hell does that have to do with anything? That’s the way things are done here. It’s an old-fashioned country. And you know something? You’d get a lot farther with these guys if you weren’t so prickly and pushy. Try a little feminine charm, and you could have them eating out of your hand.”

  “You’re a real male chauvinist, you know that? Why should I degrade myself by playing the ‘poor-little-me-I’m-just-a-woman-and-I-don’t-know-what-to-do’ game? If Maldenado was gay, would you have been batting your eyelashes in order to get us better treatment?”

  Cutter stared at her, nonplussed. “How did we get off onto this?”

  “You made one of your usual sexist remarks.”

  Cutter seethed with frustration. First she had lied to him. When he kissed her she had responded with fervor, then jumped out of his arms and accused him of being sexist. Her rejection stung. He was furious with himself for wanting her when he thoroughly disliked her. Most of all, he was shaken by the force of their passion when he kissed her; it was almost frightening to think how deeply she could affect him. He didn’t like it. He didn’t want to get into anything like that. Especially not with Leslie Harper!

  “You’re obsessed with that subject!” Cutter growled.

  “I never ran into the problem until I met you.”

  “That’s because all you’ve ever dealt with are little lapdogs or men who are paid to treat you with kid-gloves.”

  “The words ‘nice’ and ‘man’ are not mutually exclusive. You don’t have to act like an ape to prove that you’re a man!”

  “And that’s how I act?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you must have a real fondness for hairy creatures, lady, ‘cause you sure as hell kissed me back!”

  “You’re unbelievable!” Leslie wanted to punch him. The man was completely infuriating! No one had ever made her come so close to losing control. Leslie turned and stalked off, clenching her fists in an effort to bring herself back into some semblance of calm.

  Finally she turned, and her voice was cool, precise and deadly. “You seem to be laboring under some misapprehension. I don’t know where you get your ideas, but I didn’t want you to kiss me, and I do not want you to do so in the future. I’m in charge here, in case you’ve forgotten. And if you expect to work for me, that’s one of the rules. I will not tolerate any more of these sly sexual innuendos or juvenile passes. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Perfectly.” Cutter’s voice was dry and caustic, and his pale eyes were more than a match for hers in hardness. “Believe me, I won’t come near you in the future. In fact, I’d be happier if you were in another country. I don’t have any fondness for having an ice cube in my bed. But, lady, you’re the one who’s operating under a misapprehension. You may have hired me, but down here you’re not in charge. I am. I’m the expert on San Cristóbal, remember? That’s why you took me on. I know the country, and I know the people. I know far better than you what needs to be done, where to go and who to see. So I decide what, where and when, and I’m not putting up with any arguing and questioning from you. And that’s not being sexist; that’s being smart.”

  “If you think I’m going to meekly follow your orders every time, you better think again.”

  Cutter jabbed his forefinger at her. “You will follow my orders or this is the end of the deal. I’m not going to put my life in danger because you’re too self-important to do what’s best. And it’s not only my life you’ll be risking by not following orders; it’s yours and your husband’s—excuse me, ex-husband’s. I’ll do everything I can to save his hide, but if you insist on meddling, you’re going to be on your own. Agreed?”

  At this point Leslie hated to agree with him on anything, but she was too practical not to realize that he was making a valid point. She would certainly expect Cutter to stay out of her way if she was negotiating the purchase of a hotel; here, he was the expert and she was the rank amateur, and she had to let him be in charge if the venture had any hope of succeeding.

  She took a breath. “Agreed.”

  He looked first belligerent, then surprised, and Leslie knew she had cut his knees out from under him by accepting his terms. At least that gave her a bit of satisfaction. However, he recovered quickly. “Good. Then get your stuff packed. I’m going to rent us a car, and when I get back, we’re starting out for Chempua.”

  ***

  Leslie released some of her anger by throwing her things into the suitcases, but since she had unpacked only what she needed last night and today, there was little to repack. When she finished, she went downstairs and took a taxi to the bank to make her financial arrangements. She returned to the hotel, ordered lunch from room service and sat down to wait for Cutter.

  The day dragged by. How could it take Cutter so long to rent a car? She worried that something had happened to him. She worried that he was selling her out. But she had agreed to follow his orders, so she simply had to wait.

  As the hours passed, Leslie’s anger with Cutter that morning dwindled, overwhelmed by fear, doubt and boredom. Looking back on it, what had happened was not enough to get excited about. Maldenado’s chauvinistic attitude had been annoying, true, but that was hardly Cutter’s fault. And while she didn’t like Cutter’s suggestion that she should act more feminine with men here, she knew he was right that she would get farther if she did. Though she couldn’t un
derstand why it was so important to Cutter, he was also right about her telling him that Blake was her husband; it hadn’t been truthful and she’d had plenty of time to explain it since she’d first blurted it out. Of course, those hadn’t been the only things Cutter was right about: she had responded to his kiss.

  Leslie blushed a little just thinking about it. She shouldn’t have enjoyed that kiss a bit, not with the high-handed way he’d gone about it. Still, there was no denying that she had; his kiss had rattled her to the core. She had never felt such a blinding surge of passion before. It was ironic that it had come with a man like Cutter, whom she didn’t even like!

  He was good-looking. Leslie had to admit that. And there was something definitely sexy about his lazy, lean-hipped walk, not to mention the pale green eyes that could look right through you or the sensual mouth with its slow grin. There was no denying it: physically, Cutter was appealing. Obviously too appealing. Leslie hadn’t dreamed that she could be drawn to a man physically without at least liking him. She had always considered herself more intellectual than emotional and more emotional than physical. It was a shock to find her physical nature suddenly taking over.

  Well, it wouldn’t happen again. She’d be careful to keep her brain in command around Cutter from now on. She hated her momentary lapse this morning into wild, impulsive behavior. While the intense surge of passion had been pleasurable, it was too scary for her to indulge in it again. It was part of the small aspect of her personality that she had always been careful to keep under tight rein. It was like her mother, and she wasn’t about to let it develop. She would not kiss Cutter again. In fact, she planned to kill whatever physical attraction he held for her. She would remain aloof. When he was around, she would remind herself of all the things she disliked about him. Most of all, she would not let herself be dragged into the kind of raging argument they’d had today.

  She had been just as over-the-top in her anger as she had been in her response to his kiss. It was obvious that Cutter somehow broke through her control in many ways. He managed to bring out the worst in her—even emotions she didn’t know existed within herself. She was thoroughly embarrassed by the way she had behaved.