by Cindy Dees
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She looked up at him uncertainly. “Are you sure about this?”
His smile would have lit the whole night sky if they were standing outside. “Yeah, I’m sure. How ’bout you?”
She stared back at him, losing herself in the midnight depths of his eyes. He’d take care of her. Keep her safe. Give her freedom. All those promises swam in his gaze. But she saw something more in his eyes, too. Something male and possessive that made her hands shake and her breath come in unsteady jerks. Something that made her pause a long time before she answered.
Finally, she took a deep breath and replied in a shaky voice, “Yes. I’m sure, too.”
Chapter 4
Breathe, Cari, breathe. Lord, bolting from that club had been a risky thing to do. She was supposed to be a wild child. Adventurous. The kind of girl who’d take eloping in stride or, at least, take it as a big joke. Drawing what shred of courage she could around herself, she turned to peer at Joe in the car’s dark interior.
“Since we’ve got wheels and have already ditched my watchdogs, why don’t we just head for the airport? We can hop the first flight to anywhere.”
Beside her, one of Joe’s silhouetted shoulders shrugged. “We’d never make it far enough out of the city to reach the airport. There are police checkpoints everywhere, and military patrols are crawling all over St. George. Plus, as soon as your pet thugs report to daddy, you’d better believe Eduardo’s men will be racing all over this city looking for you, too.”
“But—” she started.
Joe interrupted. “Any extraction plane or helicopter stands a good chance of being shot down. There is a civil war going on in Gavarone, after all. I could haul you out into the jungle, but it’s crawling with rebels right now and would put you at grave risk. Especially if you were caught with me.”
“Why’s that?”
Joe grimaced. “Let’s just say I’m not well loved by the rebels these days. I was involved in a little run-in with them a while back that took a whole lot of their people out of action.”
Her eyebrows shot up. He must be referring to that fiasco last year where the high-tech rifle Eduardo had stolen from Charlie Squad was mysteriously stolen back from the rebels he had hired to take it. Her father had been furious when the rifle slipped through his fingers. He’d also been livid that nobody seemed to want to tell him exactly how it had happened. Maybe someday she’d manage to pry the story out of Joe.
“Look,” she argued, “I’m no wilting lily. I can stand tromping around in the jungle for a while if it wins me my freedom.”
Of all people, the driver replied, “Joe’s right. It’s too dangerous to try to move you out of the city right now. Believe me, he’s examined every option. And the war severely limits his options.”
She frowned. “But there isn’t any fighting in St. George. The government regained control of the capital months ago.”
Joe retorted, “Then why are there nightly bombings, kidnappings and assassinations in the city? Why does everyone who owns anything more than the shirt on his back hide behind locked doors after dark and sleep with a gun under his pillow? This town’s a real slice of paradise thanks to your father and the revolution he’s funding.”
“What? My father—”
Joe cut her off. “Forget it. Forget I said anything.”
Not bloody likely. Her father funded the rebels? Actually, it made a certain kind of sense. It was exactly the sort of thing Eduardo would do. His ambitions certainly extended to buying an army and controlling a small country. Nausea rumbled in her gut. She didn’t want to think about the hundreds or thousands of people he was responsible for killing with this newest little venture.
And as for Joe…wow. That was quite a speech out of him. Until now, he’d been pretty laid back about life. It was almost as if his act had slipped for a minute there. Like a mask of casual reserve had fallen away to reveal the passionate man beneath.
But then he commented lightly, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to avoid marrying me, princess. What’s the matter? Aren’t I your type?”
“Oh, you’re my type, all right,” she blurted out before she realized what she was saying. Her gaze snapped to his. Sure enough, he was staring a hole through her, his eyebrows quirked.
Oh, God. Here came the taunting, the exploitation of the weakness she’d just shown him. She braced herself for his sarcastic comeback. But he said nothing. He didn’t make fun of her crush on him or laugh at her or even smile. In fact, the only thing he did was reach out in the dark and take her hand in his. Maybe he wasn’t the only one whose nerves were causing the act to slip a little too much tonight.
The interior of the car went silent. They drove for a while toward an affluent residential section of St. George. Large homes nestled behind tall fences and iron gates and thick landscaping that hid most of them from view.
“Where are we going?” she finally asked again, breaking the thick silence.
The driver answered from up front, “To pay a little visit to a man named Miguel Cabot.”
She gasped as the name of one of her father’s most loyal supporters congealed in a knot of horror in her throat. “Judge Cabot?” she managed to choke out.
The driver glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “You know something about him that we don’t?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she replied. “He’s got his hand so deep in my father’s pockets he could scratch Eduardo’s kneecaps.”
Joe smiled beside her.
“This isn’t a joke,” she hissed at him. “He’ll run straight to my father.”
Joe nodded. “That’s the idea.”
Huh? The skepticism rumbling in her gut must have shown on her face because Joe explained, “Who better to marry us? Someone your father will believe out of hand when the judge tells Eduardo we’re legally and properly married.”
“But what if he calls my father before he does the ceremony and asks if it’s all right?”
The driver answered casually, “He won’t.”
“I’ll bet you a hundred dollars U.S. he talks to Eduardo first,” she retorted.
“I’ll bet you a thousand he doesn’t,” the driver shot back.
Carina blinked. For the hired help, the guy was pretty hostile toward her. She was generally well liked by the working classes in Gavarone because she tipped lavishly and was forever giving away ridiculous sums of money to the poorest among them. If this driver was Gavronese, he ought to be delighted to drive her in anticipation of a hefty reward.
A suspicion that he was another member of Charlie Squad hit her and, just as quickly, froze into certainty. The driver had good reason to hate anyone with the name Ferrare. As did Joe.
Her horrified gaze swiveled to him. Why hadn’t she seen this before? She’d guessed he was Charlie Squad, but she’d let her attraction to him blind her to the reality of who he was. Joe said he was here to help her. To rescue her. But was he really? Was it possible that Joe had been setting her up as bait this whole time so he and his buddies could draw out her father and kill him? From what her father said about these American soldiers, they were fully capable of harming a noncombatant like her to get at her father.
Nah. No matter how little she knew Joe, there was no way he’d hurt her. She’d bet her life on it.
Joe interrupted her distressing thoughts, saying mildly, “Don’t take that bet, Carina. You are right—Judge Cabot will absolutely make a phone call to your father first. The thing is, I’ve arranged for a little intervention in the phone lines at the good judge’s house.”
She searched the darkness, trying to see his eyes. “What sort of intervention?”
“An actress I’ve hired for the occasion will take the call, which will be conveniently diverted from the regular phone lines. She’ll pose as a housekeeper in your father’s home and will tell the judge that Señor Ferrare is not available at the moment. There’s some sort of uproar over the fact that Carina has disa
ppeared with her fiancé and nobody knows where they’ve gone. Señor Ferrare is threatening to make them get married tonight if Mr. Joe does not bring Miss Carina home soon.”
She stared at Joe. Blinked a couple of times. And then burst out laughing. “That’s brilliant!”
He flashed that devilishly charming smile of his and, for the first time since they’d gotten into the car, her panic abated a little. They might just pull this off after all. But then something else struck her. If Joe had hired an actress and already spliced into the judge’s home telephone line, he’d definitely been planning to do this tonight. He hadn’t exactly lied to her outright about having planned this little excursion in advance, but he hadn’t been completely square with her about it, either.
But then, it wasn’t like either one of them was being blindingly honest with each other here. She’d been careful to keep up her spoiled-little-rich-girl act, and who the heck knew who Joe Smith really was beneath that easygoing, I’m-just-a-friend-of-your-sister’s act?
They made a good pair.
The car slowed down, turned into a driveway and stopped at an electronically controlled gate.
The driver leaned out the window and announced, in flawless Spanish, “Miss Ferrare to see Judge Cabot.”
The security man on the other end of the intercom sounded startled as he answered, “Come up to the house right away, of course.”
Amazing the reaction the Ferrare name garnered in this town. God, she hated being her father’s daughter. But, as always, she schooled her facial expression to one of casual acceptance of the guard’s reaction.
The driver closed his window and the car rolled forward smoothly again. She noticed him staring at her in the rearview mirror. “They always jump like that when they hear your name?” he asked.
She shrugged. But keeping the move nonchalant took some effort. She replied, “Pretty much.”
As they came into view of the floodlights illuminating the front of Judge Cabot’s house, Joe muttered, “Stay in the car. I want to have a look around before you get out.”
She was used to the procedure. The only surprise this time was how quick Joe was about it. By the time he’d slowly walked around from his side of the car to hers and opened the door for her, she heard him mutter to the driver, “All clear, Tom.”
Tom? Her gaze snapped to the back of the driver’s head. Was that the legendary Colonel Tom Folly? Heck, her father had supposedly crippled the guy’s leg just last year. Ruined his field career for good, by all accounts. It would certainly explain his hostility toward her and her family.
Joe’s hand appeared in front of her face and she reached out to take it. His fingers were warm and deceptively strong as they wrapped around hers. But then all of Joe was deceptively strong. She’d been surprised a couple of times when they’d been dancing just how easily he picked her up and swung her around, as if he hardly noticed her weight.
Panic jumped and kicked like a scared colt in her stomach again. “Are you sure about this?” she asked him one last time.
His gaze met hers. For a moment, his black eyes were as hard as nails. But the expression in them melted so quickly into a warm smile that she almost wasn’t sure she’d seen the former.
“I’m sure, princess.”
She noted the fact that he didn’t ask her the same question. Not interested in giving her any opportunity to back out, was he? Smart man. Because right about now, the long driveway stretching into the night behind her was looking really good.
The sprawling house’s front door opened and a gray-haired man wearing neatly pressed chino slacks and a block polo shirt stepped out onto the covered porch.
“Carina, mi querida! You’re looking as lovely as ever. Come in, come in.”
She wasn’t his dear, thank you very much. He was as corrupt as they came, using his courtroom as a weapon to promote crime and suffering among the people of Gavarone. Given her druthers, she’d spit in his face. “Judge Cabot,” she said warmly. “I’m so sorry to interrupt your evening at this late hour, but I need your help.”
The judge gave a worried look around at the night, as if ears were growing on the gardenia bushes by the front door. “Let us speak inside of how I may help you.”
Joe’s hand slipped under her elbow as they walked up the front steps, ostensibly to help her, but she’d lay odds he was worried about her bolting. She walked past the heavy, sweet scent of the gardenias and inside to dim lamplight. The hand-distressed hardwood floors and broad hallway running straight back into the house, with its plantation shutters and mahogany furniture, gave it a tropical, colonial feel. Under other circumstances, she’d have liked this place.
She was surprised to see that Colonel Folly—if that’s who he really was—had followed her and Joe inside. Normally, a chauffeur would stay with his car. She should probably pass him off as her bodyguard so Judge Cabot wouldn’t get suspicious.
She looked over her shoulder at the American colonel. “I’m perfectly safe inside the judge’s house. But if my father’s orders are to stick with me at all times, do stay out of the way, all right?”
Folly’s eyes registered surprise for the slightest instant, but then it was replaced by approval. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied gruffly.
The judge led them to a combination library/office lined with law books and sporting a giant cluttered desk. It was an insult to the law to have this man purport to actually care what was inside those leather-bound volumes. Aloud, Cari simpered, “What a lovely room! Look at all those pretty books!”
Judge Cabot smiled, his gaze sharp but his voice obsequious. “What can I do for you at this unusual hour, my dear?”
“I want you to marry me.”
Cabot gaped. “I beg your pardon?”
She laughed gaily. “I don’t mean I want you to be my husband. I mean I want you to perform a marriage ceremony for me and my boyfriend…my fiancé.” She dragged Joe forward by the arm to stand beside her.
Cabot paused, obviously thinking fast. She could see the wheels turning, assessing how her father would react if he went through with her request. Doubt and fear trickled across his features before he finally said heavily, “Ah. Well, my dear, there are certain legalities that must be observed. I’m afraid it will be impossible for me to marry you two lovebirds this evening….”
Joe reached into his back pant pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “If it’s the marriage license you’re worried about, I’ve got it right here.”
Cabot’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He looked more than a little annoyed. But, interestingly enough, he continued to address himself solely to her and ignored Joe. “Actually, I’m more worried about what your father will think of this, Carina. You don’t want to deprive him of the pleasure of seeing his baby girl become a bride, do you? It would break his heart.”
She waved an airy hand. “Oh, he’s been telling Joe to make an honest woman out of me for weeks now. He’ll be thrilled.”
Cabot looked skeptical. “Well,” he drawled, “if you’ve already got the license and you have your father’s blessing…” He took a step toward the door. “Wait here. There are several things I’ll need to get if we’re going to do this wedding tonight. I’ll be back in a moment.”
Joe and Folly exchanged significant looks as the judge left the room.
She muttered under her breath, “There goes the bet.”
Folly flashed her a brief smile. But then Joe startled her by taking her hand in his. “How are you holding up?” he murmured.
“So far, so good,” she mumbled back, as aware as he apparently was that there could be microphones hidden in this room. She plucked at her red dress. “I can’t believe I’m going to get married in this outfit. I always imagined I’d wear some outrageously expensive designer gown—white, of course, and covered in lace and pearls.”
Joe glanced down at her attire and fire blazed in his eyes. “I dunno. You may start a fashion trend. A sexy red dress seems just right for the occasion if
you ask me.”
She laughed. “And that’s why the groom doesn’t pick the dress. If men had their way, brides would wear lace teddies down the aisle.”
He grinned widely. “Now you’re talking.”
She heard a noise in the hall and quickly leaned into Joe, plastering herself blatantly to him from chest to ankle. She purred, “That’s why I’m marrying you, darling. You always know what to say to make me feel better.”
The judge walked in just then, and when she drew away from Joe, his arm came up, trapping her against him. Good point. It probably was a good idea for the judge to see them crawling all over each other like cats in heat. All the more reason for him to get them safely married as soon as possible.
Cabot cleared his throat. “My wife will be down in just a minute. We’ll need two witnesses for the ceremony, and if your driver will consent to be one of them, Josefina will stand in as the second.”
Carina answered carelessly, not even bothering to glance over at Folly. “Of course he’ll do it.” Servants in this country, particularly her father’s, were expected to do what they were told and not ask any questions about it.
An attractive woman of middle years came into the room, patting her hair in place. A giant diamond glittered on her hand, impossible to miss. Cari’s gaze narrowed. Josefina Cabot was an extremely well-turned-out woman, compliments of Eduardo’s bribes to her husband. She supposed she shouldn’t blame Josefina for being married to a crook, but she still didn’t like seeing the woman wearing thousand-dollar sweaters and hundred-thousand-dollar rings paid for in other people’s blood.
Cari exchanged air kisses with Cabot’s wife, who gushed, “How exciting this is! So romantic. To elope with a handsome young man. Ah, to be your age again, Carina.”
The most exciting part for the woman was going to be all the attention she got when she called everyone she knew to gossip about this secret ceremony two minutes after it was over.
“Are we ready, then?” Judge Cabot asked. “Come stand over here in front of me, you two.”
A rush of heat swept over Cari and she actually felt light-headed. Great. That was all she needed to fuel Josefina’s rumor mill. Fainting at her own wedding. But then Joe’s magical hands were there again, one in the small of her back and the other at her elbow, steadying her and guiding her forward to stand beside him in front of the judge.