Marcus couldn’t remember a lot of what happened after the grenade exploded. It was days before he awakened half dead and in a house in a dusty village. It was months before he was nursed back to a semblance of health by the two brothers who found him in the street and thought he might be an investment opportunity.
Marcus had known all along he was being kept alive to be sold to the highest bidder. However, he had managed to convince the brothers it would be better to do business with someone who had the right contacts to sell him back to his own country.
Marcus had told them that Jack was the only man who could pull that off. And Jack hadn’t disappointed him. Jack had had the foresight to distrust his captors. The men left dead in the parking lot in South Carolina had never intended to let Marcus go free or Jack either.
In the house in Vienna, Virginia, the hours ticked slowly away. Whit came and went from the kitchen, occasionally bringing food and water for them. Although it nearly caused her to gag, Margo ate whatever he ate. She knew she needed to provide nourishment for the baby. And if Whit was eating it, she was certain it wasn’t laced with knockout drops or worse.
Whit seemed to be moving deeper and deeper into his dark private thoughts. Margo had always relied on instinct and hers was now telling her the time had come to make a move.
‘Mr Whitbred,’ she said carefully. ‘I’m a little confused. I thought you were Jack’s friend.’
‘Jack was like a son to me. So was Marcus.’ Whit seemed to be talking to himself, not to Margo. ‘I mourned for him every day since he was killed.’
‘But now that we know Marcus is alive, maybe we should think about going to Charleston, attempt to find him.’
‘There’s no need for that,’ Whit said calmly. ‘As soon as Jack has completed his business in Charleston, he will be coming here.’
‘You can’t know that for sure.’
‘Yes. I know without a doubt that he will be coming.’
TWENTY-NINE
Jack had been watching Whit’s house for an hour but there had been no movement. Although it was past midnight, a light still burned in the living room. The curtains were closed. That was new. Jack had come here at all hours and he’d never seen them closed before. He had to assume that Whit was expecting him.
Since there was no chance of surprising this wily old pro, Jack decided it was best to take the civilized approach. After checking that his Glock was reloaded after the skirmish in Charleston, Jack rang the doorbell. He felt ready for whatever Whit had planned for him. He was wrong.
Margo answered the door.
Before Jack could speak Whit appeared behind her, making sure Jack was aware that he had a gun pointed at the small of Margo’s back.
‘Come in, Jack,’ Whit said cordially. ‘You missed Christmas. But your lovely wife and I had a splendid time.’
‘Are you hurt?’ Jack said anxiously, his eyes searching Margo’s face.
Margo shook her head, unable to speak. Despite the danger, relief was flooding her body. Jack was here; he was alive. A spurt of joy made her feel giddy for a split second.
Disregarding the man with the gun, Margo threw herself into Jack’s arms. ‘Thank God, you’re alive,’ she cried.
Jack held her tightly, and never took his eyes off Whit. ‘Let her go,’ he said. ‘She knows nothing.’
‘Step in, Jack!’ Whit had lost the friendly tone. His voice was hard, his eyes icy. ‘We have business to discuss. I’ll take the gun, please.’
Jack gently moved Margo to one side, came into the house and handed Whit his gun.
‘Me for Margo. Business completed, Whit.’
‘Noble to the end,’ Whit answered, putting Jack’s gun in his belt. ‘It can get irritating, you know, all that patriotism and righteousness.’
‘When did you go bad, Whit?’ Jack asked, trying to work his way between Margo and the man with the gun. ‘Or were you always a snake?’
‘I was a believer once,’ Whit said. ‘Until I added up my pensions and saw I’d worked over thirty years for peanuts. Meantime, you and Marcus were raking in the bucks for very little work.’
‘So you decided betraying us was your retirement plan? How many other people did you sell out for money?’ Jack stared at his former mentor, friend and boss.
Without warning, Margo staggered, startling both men. ‘I’m sick,’ she cried out. ‘Oh, dear God, I’m going to faint.’
She was reeling, arms flailing. Jack reached to grab her but instead, she lurched hard right into Whit’s arms. Instinctively the shocked man caught her, and the force of her fall knocked the gun from his hand.
Jack was on Whit in a flash, pinning him to the floor. He wrested his own gun from Whit’s belt and held it at the man’s neck.
Margo managed to push herself up and went to get Whit’s gun where it had fallen.
‘Are you all right?’ Jack said, his voice tense with worry.
‘Never better,’ Margo answered. ‘Now that you’re here. What comes next?’
‘I have a bit of unfinished business.’ He looked at Whit. ‘Nasty business.’
‘Go ahead. Shoot me. You’ll be doing me a favour,’ Whit announced in a cold, hard voice.
‘That would be way too easy on you. I’ll be taking you to Langley now,’ Jack said icily. ‘They have a special way of dealing with traitors there. And by the way, Marcus sends his regards. He can’t wait to spend some personal time with you.’
THIRTY
Margo floated on a turquoise raft in the private pool attached to their villa. She could see the ocean below and hear the waves gently washing over the rocks … the tide was coming in.
The sun on her body warmed her all the way to her heart. She and Jack had been here five days which seemed, in some ways, like a lifetime, and in others, like minutes.
There was an otherworldly feeling to Puerto Vallarta that had proved to be healing for both Margo and Jack. At this moment they had a lot to forget but a lifetime ahead to make new memories.
There was a splash and droplets of water cooled Margo’s body as Jack dived into the pool. He popped out of the water right beside her raft and immediately kissed her.
‘Happy anniversary, Mrs McCarthy,’ he said.
‘Same to you, Mr McCarthy.’ She kissed him back. ‘I love my present,’ she added, looking at the delicate gold bracelet on her wrist.
‘I’m glad,’ Jack said. ‘I had to fight with Billy to be allowed to buy it. He wanted you to have emeralds or diamonds. Or both.’
‘This suits me perfectly. I’ll never take it off.’
He kissed her again, managing to tip over her raft in the process. Laughing, they swam to the side of the pool, pulled themselves out of the water.
Jack wrapped her up in a towel and carried her to a giant lounge chair. He lay next to her, held her tenderly.
‘I didn’t buy you a present,’ she said, wiping the water from his face.
‘I love the wedding photograph you gave me more than anything you could have bought.’
‘I do have something else for you, though. A little something … I’ve been waiting to make sure all systems were on go after that business at Whit’s house.’
Jack’s eyes were filled with concern. He frowned. ‘Are you all right? What are you talking about?’
‘Pregnant women aren’t usually supposed to go about falling on top of men holding guns.’
Jack stared at her, so startled by her comment he was flabbergasted.
She said, ‘I’ve been checked by my doctor. No harm done.’
Jack almost couldn’t get the words out. ‘You’re going to have a baby?’ he asked, his voice full of surprise.
‘No,’ she said, kissing him again. ‘We are.’ She moved closer to him as she spoke.
‘Those are words I never thought I would hear,’ Jack said, a new lightness in his voice.
‘And I never dreamed I would ever say them either,’ Margo answered. ‘Our new life is just beginning, Jack.’
&nbs
p; ‘Thanks to you … and your stubborn belief in me.’
‘I might have asked myself who you really were at times, when you disappeared, but deep down I knew you were a good man.’
‘And I’ll spend the rest of our lives together proving it to you.’ His arms tightened around her. He was filled with protectiveness and the kind of peace he had never known before.
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1926. One stately home’s future lies with four very different young women…
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About the Author
Barbara Taylor Bradford was born and raised in Leeds, and worked as a journalist in London. Her first novel, A Woman of Substance, is an enduring bestseller and has been followed by many more, including the Harte series. Barbara’s books have sold over eighty-five million copies worldwide in more than ninety countries and forty languages, and ten miniseries and television movies have been made of her books. She lives in New York City with her husband, television producer Robert Bradford.
To find out more and join the huge community of her fans, join Barbara on Facebook, follow her on Twitter @BTBNovelist and keep up to date with all her events, novels and tours at www.barbarataylorbradford.co.uk, where you can also register for the Barbara Taylor Bradford newsletter and receive regular updates.
Books by Barbara Taylor Bradford
Series
THE EMMA HARTE SAGA
A Woman of Substance
Hold the Dream
To Be the Best
Emma’s Secret
Unexpected Blessings
Just Rewards
Breaking the Rules
Series
THE RAVENSCAR TRILOGY
The Ravenscar Dynasty
Heirs of Ravenscar
Being Elizabeth
Others
Voice of the Heart
Act of Will
The Women in His Life
Remember
Angel
Everything to Gain
Dangerous to Know
Love in Another Town
Her Own Rules
A Secret Affair
Power of a Woman
A Sudden Change of Heart
Where You Belong
The Triumph of Katie Byrne
Three Weeks in Paris
Playing the Game
Letter from a Stranger
Secrets from the Past
Cavendon Hall
The Cavendon Women
The Cavendon Luck
Ebook novellas
Hidden
Treacherous
About the Publisher
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HarperCollins Publishers Ltd.
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HarperCollins Publishers Inc.
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