by Storm Chase
His tone was cool and even but Cleo’s ears pricked up instantly. She knew instinctively that this wasn’t a casual question. Jenny must be an ex, she thought. Wife or long-time girlfriend. Not a pet by Connor’s tone.
“Saw her about a month ago,” Ray said. “She’s looking good.” He paused.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Connor said quietly.
“She’s remarried.”
Connor sat still as a statue. Then he shrugged. “Good for her.”
But Cleo had felt him tense; Connor was not happy. Jenny must have been important to him.
Dylan picked up his beer. “Personally, I like them married,” he said into the silence. “They’re always much less demanding. I get all the romance and the husband gets stuck with the dishes, laundry, PMS and the other dirty jobs.”
“You’re the dirty job,” Ray grinned. “Thanks to Dylan here, we had to cut our visit to Bogotá short.”
“Oh yeah?” Connor grinned. “Another colonel’s wife?”
As they began laughing and gossiping again, Connor relaxed. So did Cleo.
When the sun began to go down, the men were discussing their favourite nightlife spots.
“Colombia is definitely tops,” Dylan said. “Beautiful girls, great music and terrific food and booze.”
Cleo saw an opportunity. “There’s a fiesta in San Juan,” she announced.
Connor frowned at her. “And how do you know that?”
“One of the girls told me last week when we were at our fiesta,” Cleo said.
Connor knew something was up. She was gazing at him limpidly but he could see by her breathing that she was nervous.
“Village fiesta?” Ray said. “Awesome!”
“Love the señoritas,” Dylan agreed.
Connor was still frowning. “Village girls aren’t available,” he said shortly.
“Man, we know that,” Dylan scoffed. “We just want to go dancing and have some fun.”
“It would be a blast,” Cleo said. “Like last week.” She knew Connor was in two minds. “Please,” she beseeched him. “The girls all said they would be there.”
Connor thought for a moment and then gave in. “All right.” After all, what harm could it do? Garcia Riviera would be too busy sorting out his legal problems to come upcountry for village fiestas. The family mine might have been there once upon a time but it had been closed for over fifty years. The connection was minimal these days; there was no way he’d turn up.
But Cleo’s heart was beating wildly. She would see Juan again.
An hour later, they drove into San Juan. The square was full of people. Cleo immediately recognised several familiar faces from the fiesta the week before. They greeted her as warmly as Connor and embraced both Ray and Dylan as old friends.
Connor got a table, ordered wine and took Cleo to join the dancers.
It was a good crowd and the music was fantastic. Cleo danced with Connor and saw with interest that Dylan and Ray were swept up by a group of giggling girls. As the men they were with were all laughing and talking to the pair, they were clearly hugely popular.
Cleo danced without paying much attention, her eyes constantly sweeping the crowd for Juan. She knew she was being stupid: Juan would never turn up before 10PM.
Connor knew what was up. He was certain that bugger wouldn’t show but he hated seeing that Cleo was still obsessed by him. Connor thought for a moment of talking to her, of telling her exactly how she’d been set up but decided against it. There was little point; Cleo would never believe him. Connor sighed. He hoped Cleo would learn the truth about Juan from the village girls. That would be easiest for everyone.
He danced with Cleo for an hour, passed her to Angel who was dying to renew his acquaintance with her and went off to talk to friends from their own village. With Angel, Javier and their cousins all queuing up for their turn, Cleo would be dancing for hours. Sitting with his back to the crowd, he didn’t see Juan arrive but Cleo spotted him instantly.
Twisting out of Angel’s arms, running across the square, she threw herself in Juan’s arms. “Juan!” She breathed, “Oh Juan! I thought I would never see you again.”
To her horror, Juan pushed her away. “You stupid bitch,” he said in a low voice, “You lost my coke and you snitched on Pedro.”
Cleo stepped back, her face paper white with horror. “Oh no,” she whispered. “Oh no, Juan.”
“How the fuck did you get out of jail, anyway?” Juan hissed. “You should be rotting in there forever. Do you have any idea what that coke was worth?”
Seeing him clearly for the first time, Cleo realised that she’d been totally taken in. She felt as if the air had been sucked out of her chest. It was a nightmare come true. Turning round, she ran from the horror - straight into Connor.
Connor took one look at Cleo, one look at Juan and fought down the urge to snap that evil bastard’s neck. There were too many witnesses. And by her white face, Cleo needed him.
“Come on, love,” he said gently. “Time to go home.” He put an arm around her, turning her quietly into the curve of his body. The shock had hit her terribly. She was like a sleepwalker.
He didn’t have to look for Dylan or Ray. Trained to sniff out trouble, they appeared out of crowd as if by magic. He refused their offers of help. “Get a lift back to the house later,” he told them. “I need to be alone with her.”
He drove her back, decanted her from the car and walked her inside. For a moment he contemplated shocking her out of it by faking tremendous rage but one look at the pinched face dissuaded him. She was at breaking point.
He led her to the large veranda, sat down and pulled her into his lap. “All right, love,” he said. “Come on, talk to me.”
Cleo shivered. He was reminded of the first time they’d sat there. When she’d been such a dreadful mess of a girl. Poor Cleo. She’d been doing so well. She never complained and she was beating her addiction. She’d not even blamed him for scaring and abusing her. His heart went out to her.
She stirred and sighed. “I’ve been such a fool,” Cleo whispered. “He never loved me. He was using me.”
“Yes, love. I’m sorry.”
She shifted so she could look at him. “You knew. Everyone knew. But I didn’t believe it.”
“He’s very good at what he does,” Connor said. “He’s been recruiting mules for years.”
“Is he an emerald dealer too?”
“No, love. The family mine was shut fifty years ago. All they deal in now is coke.”
“All of them? The whole family?”
“Yes. His uncle runs the operation.”
“If he’d only asked me, I would have done it,” Cleo confessed. “I loved him so much, I would have walked through fire for him.”
“I know, love.” He sensed she was feeling ashamed. “You aren’t the first,” he told her.
“How many times has he done this?”
“I have no idea. First time I came across him was a year ago. I saw him in town with a Chinese girl. Three days later, it was in the newspaper that she got caught smuggling coke by her own people. She was executed.”
Cleo shuddered. “Ohmigod!”
Connor shrugged. “About six months ago, he had his hooks in a girl from our village. I found her father, erm, persuading him to let the girl alone. I stopped him from killing Garcia Riviera. I didn’t want the old boy to go to jail, or be targeted by the Garcia Riviera family in revenge.”
Cleo couldn’t figure out why Juan would hate Connor. “Wasn’t Juan grateful to you for saving him?”
“He wasn’t pleased that I rescued him from a man who was half a head shorter, thirty pounds lighter and thirty years older.” Connor smiled grimly. “Garcia Riviera talks tough but he goes about with minders because he’s a coward at heart. “
Cleo sighed. Somehow that came as no surprise. The man she’d fallen for didn’t exist. She’d gotten into this mess by refusing to see the truth. It was all her own fault. “Are you
mad at me?” she asked Connor.
“No.”
“I knew he’d be at the fiesta,” Cleo confessed.
“I know you did. I thought he’d stay in town. The newspaper says he’s got tax problems.”
“Juan never lets anything get in the way of partying,” she said dully.
He didn’t say anything. He wished he could carry her pain for her.
“I’m sorry,” Cleo said again. “I won’t cause you any more trouble.”
“You never cause me trouble, love.” He felt a great lassitude go through her. She hadn’t cried. It was worrying him. This calmness wasn’t normal. He pulled her close to him.
“Who’s Jenny?” Cleo asked abruptly.
“Mind your own business, Cleo.”
It was his cool voice, warning her to stay off the topic.
“Ok.”
In a way, it was comforting that some things hadn’t changed. Connor wasn’t one to talk about his feelings. Cleo snuggled closer, putting her arms around his chest and putting her face in his neck. Connor might be many things but at least she knew where she was with him. She leaned into him, breathing in his scent. She felt drained, as if she’d been asleep for too long.
Connor knew about the exhaustion that followed intense shock. He also feared the depression that would follow. The stiff way she was clinging to him was disturbing. She needed to be comforted. He had to make sure she didn’t do something desperate.
He put his arms around her and sat quietly with her. Above them the stars glittered in the sky. The jungle spread out around and below them echoed with the sound of wildlife.
Connor just sat with her, cuddling her and occasionally kissing her hair. As the night grew deeper, he was relieved to feel her relax. Finally she sighed and softened completely against him. He still thought it would have been better if she’d cried but clearly she wasn’t going to. Come to think of it, she hadn’t cried once since he’d met her.
Poor Cleo, she was having a terrible time yet she was very brave. He knew one thing that always cheered her up. “Come on, love,” he said to her. “Let’s go to bed.”
When he lay down next to her in the massive four-poster, she curled up against him. “You know Connor, I wish you’d beat me. I think I’d feel better.”
“But I wouldn’t,” he said firmly.
For once he made gentle love to her. Afterwards, he was reassured that she clung to him sweetly, totally played out as always by passion.
“Why do your friends call you crazy Irish?” Cleo mumbled.
“I used to drink Jameson’s,” Connor equivocated.
Cleo put an arm around him. “Bet you were famous for doing nutty things. Like getting me out.”
“Hmmm.”
“I’m glad you did,” Cleo said sleepily. She yawned. “Better a bed and food and love than jail,” she quoted the hooker she’d met in Medellin lockup.
Connor lay silently. It was exactly what he’d thought when he’d made his proposal to Cleo but hearing her echo it back to him, he realised he was a total arsehole.
He looked down at Cleo who was lying quietly in his arms. He had expected to become fond of her, but he realised it was more than that. Cleo wasn’t the brightest or the most beautiful of the girls he’d known, but she was certainly the sweetest. Now that she was over her addiction, he realised how kind and gentle she was. Cleo had done more than bring him out of his self-imposed exile and self loathing; she had made him happy again.
Connor knew his fondness for her had deepened into love. If he could have, he would have spared her all this heartache. He wondered if she could ever learn to love him back. Connor brushed her hair off her face and looked at her. There was no point in talking to her. Cleo was fast asleep.
Chapter Nine
Cleo woke up from a sleep that was so deep that she wasn’t sure where she was. Gradually, the sounds of the jungle filtered through. She was at home, safe in bed. Seconds later, it occurred to her that it was strange to think of Connor’s place as home. She decided it was probably better. After all, she was living here now. It was her home.
The events of the night before flooded through her mind. She pushed them aside. She didn’t want to think about Juan.
Cleo got out of bed, showered hastily and went to find Connor. Voices were coming from the kitchen. She stopped round the corner from the kitchen and listened to the conversation inside.
“I would love to kill Riviera Garcia,” Connor was saying. “I’ve thought about it. Often. But then I’d have to take out his brother and then his friends and then their friends. It would start a never-ending feud. So I’m out. My job is to look after Cleo.”
Cleo breathed again. She had no doubt that if Connor made up his mind, Juan was toast. And although she didn’t love Juan anymore, she didn’t want him dead.
“That sounds awfully grown-up,” Ray was saying.
“Don’t forget, he’s older than us,” Dylan reminded him.
“That means we’ve got six months before the rot sets in,” Ray said gloomily.
“We can fix Garcia Riviera,” Dylan was offering.
“Car accident, rat poison in his coke, nothing that will ever be traced back to you,” Ray said quietly.
“I take it you two have expanded your horizons,” Connor said lightly.
“Can’t confirm or deny,” Ray said ironically, “or we’d have to kill you.”
“First rule they told us when we joined MI6,” Dylan said. “They said, as that crazy Irish won’t join us, don’t tell him a thing.”
Connor was laughing. “Thanks for the offer but no thanks,” he said.
“Hey, want us to take a hike so you can be alone with your girl?” Dylan offered.
“No,” Connor said calmly. “We like the company and we’ve got people coming over. I want to teach Cleo to barbecue.”
“Carne asada and local hot sauce?” Dylan said happily.
“Chorizo and morcilla?” Ray asked.
“Yup.”
“Excellent!”
“Javier from the village is dropping by with his family today and Luis is coming tomorrow. Some of the local liaison team will be over the day after that.”
“Excellent! Last time we partied with those guys, they brought along some classic entertainment and kept going for three days straight!” Dylan whooped.
Cleo decided she would learn nothing more from eavesdropping and entered the kitchen.
“Finally decided to come in?” Connor said quietly.
Cleo stared at him. How had he known? She looked at the door. There was no mirror on the faraway wall.
“It’s the shampoo,” Connor explained. “I could smell you coming down the corridor.”
“Should have joined MI6 like us,” Ray said.
“No, Connor is way too chatty,” Dylan argued. “You’ve got to be covert, like us, to get into MI6.”
Cleo smiled faintly. She liked Ray and Dylan because they were fun and easygoing but she didn’t like the way they’d talked about getting rid of Juan.
When Dylan and Ray were talking together, Cleo leaned close to Connor and whispered, “Did they really mean that? About putting poison in Juan’s coke?”
Connor took one look at her frightened eyes and lied. “Absolutely not. They were joking.”
Cleo breathed again. “I didn’t think so really. They’re far too nice.”
Connor smiled at her. It was typical Cleo. She was devastated that she’d been betrayed by a man she loved, yet not only didn’t she want revenge, but she also couldn’t believe that anyone who smiled and made jokes could hide a dark side.
Some might call Cleo stupid or gullible but Connor thought that her essential faith in the goodness of people was a reflection of her own generous nature. It was one of the things he loved her for.
Connor declared a holiday, so Cleo was relieved of the routine housework. Instead, she found herself in the kitchen, chopping garlic, onions and cilantro while Connor peeled and deseeded a pile of tomatoes
and habanero chillies. Ray and Dylan were concocting a marinade that seemed to consist mostly of alcohol and garlic.
Cleo hadn’t ever seen men cook just for fun, except for on television. Juan even refused to.... She stopped the thought. It didn’t matter anymore. Juan was not the man she thought he was. She’d better not think of him at all.
But it proved very difficult. She was all right when she was busy, but the second she had a free moment, her mind went straight to Juan. And they weren’t happy thoughts. Cleo could feel hot tears burning behind her eyelids but she refused to cry. She had her pride. In fact, it was the only thing she had left.
When Javier came, he didn’t just bring his wife and kids; he also brought two sisters, two brother-in-laws and a troop of assorted nieces and nephews. Connor wasn’t fazed by the invasion, “That’s why I had half a cow delivered,” he said calmly.
Cleo didn’t speak the language well enough to have long discussions with the adults, so she entertained the kids, jumping in and out of the pool and looking after the smaller ones who couldn’t swim. Taking care of them was mercifully mind numbing. She had no time to think about Juan. If only every day for the rest of her life could be that way.
Connor knew what was going through her mind, but there was nothing he could do for her. This was something she had to think through and come to terms with. He did wish she’d talk to him though.
He stayed close to her, gave her opportunities to open up and an hour after Javier and his family went off, he poured three cocktails down her in rapid succession, hoping that alcohol would loosen her tongue. Instead, it accelerated the fatigue that came from keeping half a dozen children entertained all afternoon. Cleo settled on his lap and fell fast asleep. Connor was half pleased she’d come to him and half exasperated that his plan hadn’t worked.
“Just let her be,” Dylan said. “It will come.”
“Am I that transparent?” Connor asked ruefully.
“Like a mother hen with a chick,” Ray said judiciously.
“Don’t worry,” Dylan grinned. “It’s only because we know you. That impenetrable stoic look is all anyone else will see. Your secret is safe with us. Nobody else will ever guess you have a heart.”
