by Linda Morris
He was faking it. He had to be. On their way into the mountains, the Jeep wound around one snaking road after another, and he’d never gotten sick.
Cantor looked at him like he was crazy. “No, we cannot pull over.”
“Uh, you sure? I think I might puke. I don’t want to get it all over the inside of the car.”
Ramirez muttered something in Spanish, and Cantor rolled his eyes. “Fine. What a loser. Ramirez, roll the window down for him, and slow down, but we’re not stopping, hear me?” Ramirez complied. A frigid blast of air hit them as Joe’s window lowered. Cantor turned back to Joe. “You gotta puke, you can do it out the window, with the car moving. We ain’t got time—”
Joe’s foot shot out like a piston firing, cutting him off. He kicked the gun away and grabbed a fistful of Ramirez’s hair, slamming his head against the driver’s window with a sickening crack. Ramirez slumped in his seat.
Cantor swore and took the wheel, stretching his leg to hit the brake. The car careened wildly. Ivy gritted her teeth and braced herself. The vehicle rocked to a stop, the force throwing Ivy against her seatbelt and then back into her seat.
Cantor bent down to fumble for the gun where it had fallen on the floor of the front seat.
Driven by pure instinct, Ivy grabbed his shirt collar, yanking him back as hard as she could to keep him from reaching the gun. Joe’s foot shot out again, his boot pinning Cantor’s hand to the dashboard with a force that cracked the plastic.
Cantor screamed in pain, and Joe finished off his left hand with a twist and a last wicked thrust. Grabbing the back of his skull, Joe slammed his forehead against the dash with one fierce thrust. Ivy gasped, heart thudding. Cantor slumped out of Joe’s grip to one side.
Climbing halfway into the front seat, Joe grabbed the weapon from the floor and then rifled through the unconscious man’s jacket until he found his own confiscated weapon and cell phone. He quickly frisked Ramirez too, pulling out a weapon from a shoulder holster. In the passenger seat, Cantor groaned. Ivy stared.
“Let’s get them the hell out of here before they wake up!” Joe reached over Ramirez’s body and opened the driver’s side door. He shoved the unconscious man out into the snow with one foot and then clambered into the driver’s seat himself. “Come on! Help me get the other one out!”
Stung into action, Ivy reached through the now-open window and opened the door from the outside. The vehicle had come to a stop more or less on the shoulder. As she opened the 4X4’s front passenger door, Cantor tipped toward her. Instinctively, she grabbed his torso to keep him from tumbling into the roadside.
“What are you doing? Let him fall,” Joe ordered. He matched action to words by shoving heartily at Cantor’s shoulder.
This time, Ivy stepped out of the way and let the unconscious body tumble.
“They’re practically in the road. What if a car comes by and hits them while they’re unconscious?”
“So?” The brutal monosyllable made Ivy flinch.
“I would feel bad.”
Joe met her gaze for a moment, and then sighed. “Fine. If they come back to kill us later, I’m holding you responsible.”
He climbed out of the vehicle, and together they dragged the two unconscious men away from the road, over and behind a bank of recently plowed snow. “Happy now?”
Teeth chattering, Ivy nodded.
“Good. Let’s get going. We’ve got a lodge to find.”
“We’re stealing their car?”
“Would you prefer we hang around until they both wake up, instead?”
Unable to argue with his logic, she relented and got in the car. Joe wasted no time in getting underway, gunning the engine as they roared off.
As Joe negotiated the twisted road, Ivy glanced in the rearview mirror more than once. She couldn’t shake the absurd fear that the two men were following them.
“They’re out cold,” Joe reminded her. “And even when they wake up it’s gonna take them a while to get transportation. They’ve got no weapons, and whoever picks them up is going to take them to a hospital, not to buy a gun. We’re safe for a while.”
Ivy’s terror slowly eased as she followed his logic. “My list of new experiences with you keeps growing,” she commented, gasping as he took a curve fast, forcing her to brace herself on the door. “Adding tire chains and getting stranded in a blizzard. Now I can add car theft and being held at gunpoint.”
“That list may get a little longer before this is all over,” he said with a roguish grin.
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Left unspoken was an even deeper fear—that once Joe Dunham left her life, it would seem unbearably dull without him.
Chapter 9
“When do you think they’ll show?” Joe tossed a handful of peanuts into his mouth and passed her the bag.
Ivy shrugged. “Don’t know.” She took the peanuts and had to work not to wolf them all down in one gulp.
The parking lot of the Lodge at Zephyr’s Cove sat nearly empty. After ditching the 4X4 outside of town and hiking in to pick up a rental car, Joe had rented a gray Chevy sedan to stake out the Lodge. Sheila assured them that Pock and Daisy had charged a room here on their credit card, but Joe had been unable to wheedle the sour-faced woman at the front desk into giving him their room number.
“I guess your charm has its limits after all,” Ivy had murmured as they’d returned to the car, earning an affronted look from Joe.
Stymied, they waited in the parking lot, choosing a vantage point that allowed them to see the doors of most of the units and the only entrance to the lot. The Lodge backed up to a tiered deck, deserted and snow-covered at this time of year, overlooking Zephyr Cove on the south end of Lake Tahoe. If Pock or Daisy tried to go in or out, they would see them.
“They’ve got to come out to eat eventually, right?” Joe remarked.
“It’s hard to tell with Daisy. She can be...easily distracted.”
He met her gaze and lingered long enough to fluster her. “What does that mean, ‘easily distracted’?”
“Only that I doubt very much that Daisy is upset about being on the run from dangerous criminals. She’s probably thinking of it as a wildly romantic adventure.”
“You think she sees this as an adventure?”
“She’s probably inside one of these rooms right now, carrying on with Pock as if she’s already on her honeymoon, which she might be, for all I know.” She sounded like a shrew, but she didn’t care. Daisy had gotten herself in a lot of messes in her life, but she’d really done it this time.
“Carrying on?” Joe repeated with a grin. “That sounds like something an old woman would say. Besides, maybe this is a romantic adventure, if you think about it the right way,” he pointed out.
“Maybe for her, but not for me.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“I know what you’re getting at,” Ivy said.
“Oh, yeah?” Same words, same doubting inflection.
“Yeah. But you know we can’t let that happen again.”
“We can’t let what happen again?” he asked, all innocence.
“I can see you’re not going to make this easy,” she said, her tone brittle. “You know perfectly well what I mean. You and me, and our kiss. We just...comforted each other in a difficult situation.”
The awkward words didn’t exactly express what Ivy meant, and her frustration grew as Joe’s grin deepened. A dimple appeared in his cheek when he smiled fully.
“Yes, thank you for comforting me so well,” he quipped.
“Very funny.”
“I mean it,” he said, reaching out to take her hand, brushing his thumb across the back of hers. The simple touch raised the fine hair on her arms. “I’d like to comfort you all night long.” His voice lowered, grew husky, and Ivy’s skin was on fire from the inside out.
She pulled her hand away with effort. “The cabin was a special situation,” she explained. “Not really the real world. Now that we’re
back in the real world, I think we ought to try to put things between us on a professional footing once again.”
“The real world? I didn’t know we’d ever left it. Tell me about this distinction. Why is this motel parking lot the real world, but a cabin an hour or so away is magically not?” His jaw had that pugnacious angle that it took on when he made her life difficult, and Ivy sighed.
“When you put it that way, it sounds silly.”
“That’s because it is silly.”
“Fine. Have it your way. What do you want from me? And don’t tell me it’s just sex, because I don’t do that.”
At his questioning look, she hastily clarified, “Well, not with people I barely know. I don’t jump into bed with people I have nothing in common with. When this is all over, what would we do together back in Chicago, Joe? Would you feel comfortable going to the theater and museums with me? Would you enjoy being my date to a dinner party with my father and his business friends? Would I want to do...whatever it is that you do?”
His smile disappeared. “‘Whatever it is that I do’?” he repeated. “Jesus. Think about how you sound, for just a second.”
“I didn’t mean it that way—”
“Yes, you did. As for museums and the theater, no, I don’t do those things a lot, but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t. And as for your father, you’d be a hell of a lot better off if you worried less about what he thinks and more about what you want.”
He ran a hand over his hair, badly rumpled as usual. Frustration radiated from him. He spoke the truth as he saw it, always, whether she wanted to hear it or not. Ivy liked that very much about him, even if it sometimes hurt her to hear it.
She liked it so much that she began to hope he would kiss her again. It made no sense, but he seemed to be able to short-circuit her reason without even trying. He saw something in her that she knew wasn’t there. He wanted her to change, to be something she wasn’t. But instead of telling him off, she found herself wondering if he could possibly, just maybe, be right.
No. They were too different, and she had learned from Daniel how painful stepping out of her milieu could be.
“I’m sorry. We can’t seem to talk about this without fighting, but that only proves my point that we aren’t meant to be.”
“Meant to be? I’m not talking about a lifetime commitment here. I want you. You want me. It’s not about happily ever after.”
“I’m sorry,” she said again, this time in a whisper. Maybe a kiss didn’t matter to him, but it did to her. A kiss could lead to an embrace, to a caress, to making love to him, and that would lead to feelings for him. Feelings that couldn’t go anywhere. Tears sprang up against her will. “It is a big deal to me.” She wiped one away with a knuckle.
“Oh, hell. Don’t cry,” he said, stroking the back of her head, looking wildly uncomfortable.
“I’m not crying,” she denied, trying hard to keep the tears from spilling. In the midst of the quiet moment, her stomach rumbled loudly, startling laughter from both of them.
Pressed for time, they had purchased junk food out of vending machines at the rental car company. For the past couple of hours, Joe had portioned out little bags of peanuts, pretzels, and Funyuns. Actually, she had been happy to let Joe have all of the Funyuns, earning his scorn in the process. “Don’t know what you’re missing,” he said, but she wrinkled her nose.
“I’m willing to take that chance.”
Now he rummaged through the empty bags. “Looks like we’re out of food. The Lodge has a restaurant. You want to go for carryout, or stay here to keep watch?”
“Carryout,” she replied instantly. The opportunity to stretch her legs and get some fresh air sounded heavenly, and she didn’t want to be alone in the car if Cantor and Ramirez showed up.
The Lodge restaurant looked like any other Tahoe tourist haven, heavy on wooden beams and stuffed animal heads. She much preferred it to the faux glamour of the Bellisimo. After giving their order to the hostess, Ivy made her way back to the ladies’ room. She checked her appearance in the mirror, appalled at what she found. The windy hike into town after they’d abandoned the 4X4 had chapped her cheeks and gnarled her hair. Her cracked lips cried out for lip balm.
She’d abandoned most of her stuff back in the 4X4, unwilling to lug her oversized leather bag through the snow for miles, but she found a small comb and some lip gloss in her purse. She winced as she pulled the comb through the tangles. That job done, she bent over the sink, cupping water in her hands and splashing her face. Behind her, she heard the restroom door open. She sucked in a breath as the bracing cold water dried the last of her tears instantly. Blinking the water from her eyes, she buried her face in a length of paper towel, taking a long minute to regroup.
“I’d ask what you are doing here, but I’m afraid I already know.”
Smothering a gasp, she dropped the towel. She knew that voice, and the reflection in the mirror confirmed it.
Daisy did not look happy to see her.
Chapter 10
“Daisy! Thank God you’re okay. I was so worried!”
“Were you?” Her sister looked unconvinced.
Hmmm. Ivy obviously had her work cut out for her. Convincing her sister she’d acted in her best interests was going to be a hard sell.
“Of course! I thought you might have gotten stuck in the mountains when the storm started.”
“I can only assume you’re here on Daddy’s orders. But how on earth did you find me?” She crossed her arms, silver bangles clinking under the flowing sleeves of her caftan. A leather catch secured her long hair, a few shades darker than Ivy’s. She looked pretty, in an earthy, latter-day hippie kind of way. Ivy, sorely in need of a shower and change of clothes, felt like a mess next to her sister.
“It’s a long story,” Ivy said.
“I’m listening.”
“We came here to...talk things over with you before you and Pock...”
“‘We’?” Daisy repeated in disbelief. “You mean Dad is here too?” Her eyes widened. “Wow. I can’t believe he would tear himself away from Smithson Enterprises long enough to see to something trivial like his daughter’s marriage.”
“No, Dad isn’t here,” Ivy said gently, hating the disappointment the words put on her sister’s face. Daisy might not like her father interfering in her life, but Ivy knew that, for an instant, she’d believed her father had been concerned enough to put his all-important work on hold. Realizing her error hurt. Ivy knew the feeling. Coming in a perpetual second place to Smithson Enterprises in her father’s esteem took some getting used to. “I’m here with a private security consultant.”
Daisy’s eyes narrowed. “How the hell did you find me? Did you follow me?”
“Yes,” Ivy said. “But listen!” she interjected as Daisy seemed on the verge of erupting. “We went to the Bellisimo, just to talk to you, I swear. And then we found out that Pock had walked out on the fight at the last minute. The fight manager was furious, and we couldn’t figure out why Pock would cancel when we knew how excited you two were about the opportunity. We set out to follow you. We were worried about you, Daisy!”
“How did you know where we were?”
“Joe has an assistant back in Chicago who is a wizard. She’s been keeping tabs on your credit card and calling us with the locations.”
Daisy closed her eyes briefly. “Dammit, how could you? You followed me across country, with some kind of double-oh-seven operation, all because you couldn’t accept that I was marrying somebody you don’t approve of? Do you have any idea how demented you are?”
“Demented?” Ivy said, drawing back.
She’d never thought of it that way—she’d been desperate to keep her sister from making a terrible mistake. Her sister simply didn’t understand the situation. “Listen. You should be glad we’re here. You are in real danger.” Quickly, she gave her sister a simple version of events—being stranded in the cabin with Joe, and how Cantor and Ramirez found them. Her sister lis
tened quietly, her expression sobering as she heard it all. “They’re dangerous men, Daisy, and they’re after Pock.”
After a moment, Daisy’s face grew hard. “I don’t know why you’re so concerned. If they kill Pock, all of your problems would be solved.”
Her words cracked like a whip. For a moment, Ivy didn’t say a word, gulping for air like a winded runner. How had everything gone so horribly awry between her and her sister that she could make such an accusation? “Daisy,” she finally said. “You can’t really think that.”
Daisy paused, and then sighed. “No, I guess I don’t. I suppose I should be glad you came after us. Pock knew they’d be pissed about him running out on the fight, but he didn’t think they’d be that pissed. I never should have let him ditch the fight like that.”
“Why did he, anyway?” Ivy asked. “He should have known these people would be furious.”
Her sister looked embarrassed, on the defensive for the first time. “His pride got to him at the last minute, I guess. He didn’t want to lose his first sanctioned fight in Vegas. He worked his ass off to get to the big time, and then he had to lose? That, and his conscience bothered him. He realized that innocent people would be putting their money down on him, believing that he could beat Dykeman, and he’d be responsible for screwing them out of the bet. It didn’t seem like a good way to treat people who put their money down on you.”
And all this had been an epiphany for Pock? He should have figured all of that stuff out before he got mixed up with a fight fixer, but Ivy kept her silence on that score. She had bigger messes to clean up.
“You didn’t—” She broke off, wanting desperately to know but not wanting to make things worse. “Did you have a chance to get married yet?” she asked, trying to keep her tone casual.
She couldn’t fool Daisy, who rolled her eyes. “I think I’ll keep you in suspense over that. It’s the least you deserve.”
“Daisy!”
“I mean it! I’ve just now stopped being really mad at you. Don’t push it.”
“Fine.” It wasn’t fine, but she knew she had no chance of getting any information out of her now. She’d wait and work on her a bit later, after she cooled off. “Look, when those two come to, this is going to be the first place they come. Joe is out in the parking lot, watching for you guys. Where’s Pock?”