Angel Down

by Lois Greiman

  “So ya think you owe ‘im,” Shep said.

  “I do owe him, but he is too honorable to ask for the payment.”

  Shepherd kept his opinions to himself, though it was a difficult thing. “Then you’re free to leave whenever ya want.”

  “Of course,” she said and shrugged. The scalloped bodice of her dress flirted with her breasts.

  “Then why don’t you?”

  “Who it is to say I wish to?”

  “Your eyes,” he said and grinned a little. “They’re tellin’ me all sorts of secrets.”

  “Oh?” She gave him a sassy glance from beneath forest full lashes. “What is it that they say?”

  “That they want me.”

  She rolled those beautiful eyes.

  He sobered unwillingly. “And that ya could do great things.”

  She stared at him in silence for a second, and then she laughed. “Like bear a conceited American’s bebés?”

  “Maybe.” He grinned and kept his tone level, but the idea did unsettling things to his equilibrium. “Or ya could be…” He narrowed his eyes at her, guessing. “A doctor in your own right. Or a teacher. Or a world-famous diplomat.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise, but in a moment, she snorted.

  He smiled. “I’m close aren’t I?”

  “You are…” She shook her head. “How is it they say…” She was as cute as a puppy when she scowled. “You are the loco one.”

  “Well…” he said and did his best to look pathetic. Which really wasn’t that hard since he was wounded, and handcuffed to a bed, and naked. Although, really, he’d rarely found nakedness to be a disadvantage. “I have had a head injury.”

  Bending at the waist, she brushed the hair from his forehead. Her touch was as light as a summer breeze, bringing back soft memories of lazy sunlit days beside old Mill Creek. He let his shoulders relax against the mounded pillows and spoke softly. “I’d do anything ya suggested.”

  She tensed a little and raised her brows, but he took the high road.

  “If ya were a diplomat,” he explained.

  She exhaled softly through her nose and offered him more gruel which he took without glancing at it.

  “If I am not mistaken, diplomats…they need more than ten years of the school,” she said.

  “Ya could get your GED online then take classes at Oklahoma State.”

  For a moment, her dreams were almost visible in her eyes, but finally she laughed. “And what would I do with Sofia while I am become this world famous something?”

  “What are ya doin’ with her now?”

  “Now she is attends the Aspaen Gimnasio Iragua for girls.”

  “So she’s gettin' the education ya didn’t.”

  She shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “Someday, perhaps, Sofia will become the attorney and I can be her assist. Until then, I am lucky to have such a job as I do.”

  He watched her. An attorney. Was that Sofia’s dream or hers?

  “So you’re content to serve coffee for a few pesos a day.”

  “Sí.”

  “Martyrs,” he said, “usually end badly.”

  “Not like the runners of the drugs then,” she said and rising, left, taking the sunlight with her.

  Chapter 45

  Durrand’s lips were hot and firm against Eddy’s. His chest felt like sinful heaven beneath her hand, though she had no idea how her fingers had landed there. She kissed him back, because she couldn’t help herself, because life was hard and short and…dammit, she wanted to!

  He pulled back, chest heaving beneath her palm, eyes staring into hers, giving her a chance to stop, to be sensible, but she didn’t want a chance.

  Growling, she skimmed her fingers through his hair and dragged his lips back to hers.

  After that, there was no stopping. He pushed her up against the wall. Her spine cracked against the plaster, but she didn’t care. He was all broad bone and shifting muscle. All hot and vast and…why was he still wearing those damned pants?

  They were naked in a second. And then she was straddling him and he was straining and she was gasping… and holy crap!

  Eventually, they lay side by side on the bed, though truth to tell she wasn’t entirely sure how they had arrived there.

  “Don’t tell me,” she rasped, still trying to catch her breath, “you found a camera after all?”

  He shifted his head upon the mattress. The pillows had gone Elvis long ago. “I tried my best,” he said.

  “No video?”

  “Not even a damn peep hole.”

  “Then what was this for?” She tried to sound accusatory, but perhaps the fact that her naked chest was still pressed up against his made her irritation seem a little less believable.

  “This?” he asked and slipped a slow hand down the length of her back.

  She stifled a sigh and managed a nod.

  He blew out a breath. “This is about losing control.”

  “Ahh.”

  The entire length of his body felt as hard as a living oak beneath hers.

  “I don’t like losing control,” he admitted.

  She watched him for a second then cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—” she began, but he stopped her.

  “You should have,” he whispered and kissed her. “You definitely should have. Even though I’m not near…” His words slipped into silence. His eyes were dark and tortured. As deep as forever.

  “Even though what?”

  He drew in a long breath. “Maybe no one’s good enough for you.”

  She read the nuances, felt his marrow-deep adoration, and cupped his lean face in her palm. “Maybe I’m not good enough for you.”

  His chuckle was low and mirthless. “I guarantee that’s not the case.”

  “I’ll never…” She winced as she slipped her thumb over the scar that nicked his chin. “I’m scared out of my mind half the time.”

  “You think I’m not?”

  “I think it doesn’t matter. I think you’ll do whatever has to be done to save your friend.”

  “Whatever has to be done…” He winced. Lifting her hand from his face, he kissed the center of her palm and drew a slow, deep breath. “I want you to go home.”

  She drew back, inadvertently pressing her hips more firmly to his. “What?”

  “Santiago’s holding Shep. I feel it in my gut. We know where his property is. You’ve done your part. It’ll be safer if you leave now, let me go in alone.”

  She stared at him. “Safer for whom?”

  “For me! It’s much less likely that they’ll notice a lone—”

  “Dad left when Grand was dying.”

  “What?”

  She wanted to look away, to hide her emotions, to distance herself from all the sterling qualities that shone from his soul, but she held his gaze. “Colonel Edwards. Everyone thought he was the epitome of honor. But he didn’t even have the courage to help Mom through her mother’s death. Didn’t have the loyalty to stick through the hard times.”

  “I’m sorry.” His words were a quiet rasp of kindness in the darkness. His fingers curled possessively against her neck. His thumb pressed comfortingly into the hollow of her throat.

  “I promised myself I’d be different.”

  “You are,” he rasped. “You’re everything that’s good.”

  “You don’t know me,” she whispered.

  “I’m a pretty good judge of character, Edwards.” He sounded strangely affronted. She couldn’t help but smile at him.

  “Are you?”

  He nodded. “You’re the kindest person I’ve ever met.”

  Were there tears in his eyes? Her heart felt full to bursting. “You’re the bravest.”

  “I’m not,” he said and clearing his throat, carefully lightened his tone. “But I might be the most sex deprived.”

  She raised her brows. “Well, let’s do something about that,” she said.

  And he did.

  Chapter 46

/>   “I thought the prettiest girls in the world came from Tulsa,” Shep said. “Guess I was wrong.” He had no way of knowing exactly how many days had passed since his incarceration. All he knew was that Carlotta had returned.

  She turned toward him, as bright as a star.

  “Come to Oklahoma with me.” The words left his mouth before checking in with his brain, but she just glanced at him askance, dark eyes somewhere between amused and skeptical.

  “And what would I do in this…Oklahoma?”

  “Besides be bowled over by my country charm?”

  Her eyes had gone cynical. “Sí, besides that?”

  He shrugged. “Ya could be a…hair girl.”

  “Hair girl?”

  “Ya know…one of those women who does stuff with hair. What are they called?”

  “Eat your soup.”

  “Are you sure?” He made a face and shook his head. “That doesn’t sound right. Stylist,” he said suddenly. “Ya could be a hair stylist. Yours looks especially good today, by the way.”

  “It does not matter what it is you say,” she warned him. “I am not going to make you free.”

  “Ya don’t think I’m just flatterin’ ya so you’ll take off the cuffs, do ya?”

  “No,” she said and reached for his pillow. “Sit up.” He did so. “I also think you flatter me because you want to have the sex with me.”

  “What?” He gave her his best shocked expression. “I don’t wanna… Well…” He snorted softly. He was a damned good liar. But the devil himself couldn’t pull off a whopper like that. “I do wanna if you wanna, but…” He paused. “Do you wanna—”

  “No,” she said.

  “Oh. All right, well, your hair’s still really sexy.” It was long and dark with waves that looked as if they could wind around a man’s heart and into his soul. “There’re about seventy billion American women who’d kill for hair like that.”

  “I think their deaths would do me little good.”

  He thought about that for a second. “Well, no, ya probably wouldn’t gain a lot if they were TU, but my point is…”

  “TU?”

  “Ahhh…toes up,” he explained, fudging a little. “Anyway, you’d have a pretty good income if ya could make other women’s hair look like yours. Even actresses… Hey, I bet ya could be a stylist for the stars.”

  “Be silent and eat,” she ordered.

  He stared up at her and felt a little breathless at her nearness. It wasn’t that she was beautiful…exactly. Well, okay, it was that she was beautiful…exactly… So maybe that was all that was to it. How the hell long had it been since he had been with a woman? Any woman? “I would eat,” he said, but I’m cuffed to the bed.” He lifted his left hand, rattling the metal that bound him. “I’m afraid you’ll have to help me…again.”

  “You only need the one hand to eat.”

  “I’ve been injured.” He tilted his head, hoping he looked harmless and maybe a little helpless. “By your people.”

  “Herrera is not my people.” She hissed the words.

  “But Doc is.”

  She pursed her lips. They were as lush as ripe berries. “Señor Tevio, he is a good man.”

  “No,” he said and though he tried to maintain his smile and play it cool, the muzzy memories kept creeping in. “He’s not.”

  She drew herself up. “How is it you dare slanderize his name?”

  He watched her, pulled irrevocably into seriousness. A place where he rarely tread. “I dare because ya know it’s true.”

  “I know no such thing as this. He saved my family just as he saved you.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Because he does not wish for you to suffer.”

  “Is that what he told you?”

  “Sí.”

  “He doesn’t have any problem with handcuffin’ me to the bed.”

  “He must do so because you are a dealer of the drugs. A man who ruins the lives of innocent children and—”

  “Rangers don’t deal drugs!”

  She scowled. “Rangers? What is this?”

  He shifted his gaze toward the door and ground his teeth. He ached to tell her the truth, to raise her opinion of him, but maybe that’s why she was here, to learn his secrets, to feed those confessions back to a man who could kill as casually as he could eat dinner.

  “Come to America with me,” he said.

  She shook her head at the abrupt change of subject. “And how would we get there, cowboy?” she asked. “Do you have the fortune in American dollar hid away somewhere?”

  Holy shit. Really? After all they’d been through together she was after his money? “No American dollars,” he said, “but Durrand will buy the tickets. In fact, he probably has already.”

  “Durrant?”

  “Durrand. He’s a friend of mine.” He inhaled, careful not to think too hard about the damned know-it-all he loved like an idiot brother. “Makes a habit of saving my bacon.”

  She looked increasingly confused. “What is this bacon you speak of?”

  He grinned at her. “He likes to save my life. Makes ‘im feel human.”

  “Then he had best waste no more time,” she said. Her expression was somber, her eyes as bright as Montana silver. “Because señor, he will not hold you much longer.”

  Chapter 47

  “You okay?” Durrand was nearly invisible in the darkness. But Eddy could feel the heat of his body, could hear the hard tension in his voice and wished like hell they were still back in Tevio’s cozy hacienda. Still entwined on the scattered sheets, sharing secrets and kisses.

  She nodded.

  “Keep watch,” he whispered and glanced toward the front of the corrugated building not thirty yards away. “Call me if you see anyone. I’ll do the same when the coast is clear.”

  She managed another nod. For a moment, she was sure he would reach out, would touch her face, but he only hesitated a moment before he pulled back and slithered beneath the barricade that enclosed Santiago’s dynasty. In a moment, he was gone, swallowed by the darkness.

  Taking a fortifying breath, she shoved her pack through the hole they’d dug then pressed her back more firmly against the rough bark of a sweet-gum and exhaled carefully. She wished she could be offended by the fact that Durrand had left her behind to stand guard like a frightened child. But gratitude was her overwhelming—

  Something touched her thigh. She jumped but managed to keep from yelping just as she realized her cell phone was vibrating in her pocket; Durrand’s signal to follow him. She allowed herself one fractured moment of terror before dropping to her belly and wriggling through to the other side. By the time she had reached Durrand, he had already cut the lock to the corrugated building. The door slid open on silent wheels.

  “No guard?” she whispered.

  He shook his head, but his expression was worried.

  She forced a smile. “Not everything has to be difficult,” she said, but suddenly, headlights drowned them.

  “Hola.” The greeting was loud and cheery, issued by some unseen force behind the blinding lights.

  Eddy ducked. Durrand growled, but they were caught dead to rights, and in a second, a man stepped into the lights. It took several moments for Eddy to recognize him.

  “Señor Tevio?”

  The elderly man shrugged, expression benign. “You are surprisingly well armed for ones who come only to enjoy the beauty of our country.”

  Durrand straightened, eyes deadly steady, gun held firmly in his right hand.

  “Ponce, if they cause any trouble, shoot the señorita first,” Tevio said. His voice was conversational though he never shifted his gaze from Durrand. “But do not kill her.”

  A muscle jumped in Durrand’s lean cheek. “Let her go, and I won’t cause any trouble.”

  “Of course, I will let her go,” Tevio said and smiled. “Do you think me a monster?”

  There was a moment of absolute stillness and then Durrand bent and placed his rifle on th
e ground.”

  “Ahhh,” Veto said and settled his benevolent smile on Eddy. “So he does care for you, my dear. But is he truly your husband, I wonder.”

  It was almost impossible to respond, almost beyond her to push words past her frozen lips. “What’s going on?” she breathed. Her voice shook. “I know you told us not to cross the river, but we…we got lost…following a bushbird. It got dark so fast. I was scared and wet. Durrand…” She stopped, mortified by her stuttering mistake. “Luke,” she corrected. “Luke didn’t want to come here but I was so—”

  “Shoot her in the leg,” Tevio ordered.

  “No!” Durrand yelled, but the word was lost as pain slammed through her.

  She staggered backward, stunned, confused as she toppled to the ground.

  Another shot whined. She reached vaguely for her own weapon, but someone already stood over her, eyes emotionless, rifle steady. She lay back, strength draining away and rolled her head to the right.

  Durrand lay on his side, eyes wide and staring as blood pooled beneath his scalp.

  Chapter 48

  “Come on, honey, wake up,” a voice said, but Eddy just snuggled deeper into her blankets. It was cool outside. Fall was her favorite season. She loved the earthy scents, the vibrant colors, the taste of spiced cider and— “That’s an order, Edwards!”

  She opened her eyes with a snap, but it hardly mattered. The room where she lay was as dark as a cave. She tried to roll onto her side, but her arms were confined behind her. Craning her neck, she glanced behind her. A chain was attached to her wrists and was strung through a ring set in the solid rock wall. Panic flooded her. She jerked her hands.

  “Look at me.” The voice from beside her was as quiet as river water, but terror washed the sound away. “Edwards, look at me.”

  She stilled her movements and turned her head to the left. Durrand was leaning against the wall, knees bent, arms bound behind his back. Blood or some other dark substance caked his face and crackled on his neck.

  “Breathe,” he ordered.

  “You’re alive.” They were, possibly, the dumbest words she had ever spoken, but it felt good to release them, freeing somehow, allowing her to inhale more readily.