Summer Vows

by Rochelle Alers

  “Did her father capitulate?”

  “He had to. Grandpa had traveled to Cuba to buy a sugarcane plantation, but the Cubans wouldn’t sell it to him because he was an American. At that time Cubanos felt they’d traded one oppressor for another after the Spanish-American War. Most Cubanos harbored a resentment of U.S. colonists buying up their land and the U.S. military paying next to nothing to set up a military base at Guantanamo Bay. No one would sell him a handful of Cuban soil, not because he was black but because he was an American.

  “He left Cuba, went to Costa Rica and bought a banana plantation, then returned to Cuba to ask for M.J.’s hand in marriage. She was only twenty when she became Mrs. Samuel Claridge Cole.”

  “Her father approved of her marriage to an American?”

  Ana nodded. “Yes. Grandpa was what people called a gentleman farmer and there was never a doubt whether he would be able to give M.J. the lifestyle to which she’d been accustomed. Her father must have breathed a sigh of relief when she did marry him because family honor superseded everything else. Her father and my grandfather were not only father and son-in-law but also business partners. Once he had grandchildren José Luís Diaz was heard to say that his world was complete. Before he passed away he had his lawyer draw up papers leaving all of his wealth to his daughter’s husband. If he hadn’t done that, then I suspect my grandmother would’ve left my grandfather when she discovered he’d fathered a child out of wedlock. But, she’d found herself living in a mansion with three young children and cash poor. I didn’t understand her telling her daughters, granddaughters and great-granddaughters ‘no permita que nadie le defina ni determine su destino,’ until Diego had asked me to come and work with him. He can be very persuasive but I know I’m not cut out to negotiate deals that involve produce and vacation properties.”

  “Don’t let anyone define you or determine your destiny,” Jacob translated literally.

  “And it’s been that way with every Cole woman, beginning with my father’s sisters. My aunts are as tough as drill sergeants. Even those who marry Cole men follow the practice.”

  A beat passed, then Jacob asked, “Are you saying your grandmother didn’t have a happy marriage?”

  “No. Quite the contrary. My grandparents adored each other. They were married for seventy-five years, and after Grandpa died Abuela was never the same. As the family matriarch she was proud and controlling, but some of the light went out behind her eyes once she realized the man who’d been her rock was gone. When she talked about controlling one’s destiny I think she regretted not finishing college. But, she didn’t blame anyone but herself for that. She said if she hadn’t posed for Antonio Santamaria her life would’ve been quite different. She probably would’ve married a man from her own country, had children and who knows whether she would’ve stayed or left the island after the overthrow of Batista.”

  Jacob rested his chin on the fragrant curls tickling his nose. “If she hadn’t left Cuba then she wouldn’t have had your father. Your grandparents created a dynasty they could be proud of.”

  “Grandpa wasn’t perfect, Jacob. Not when he cheated on his wife.”

  “He’s not the first and he definitely won’t be the last man to cheat on his wife.”

  “I’d like you to answer one question for me, Jacob.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Why do men cheat?” It was the same question Ana asked Tyler.

  “It’s probably because they can, or they believe they can get away with it. Many of them do, because women tend to forgive them.”

  “I’m not that forgiving.”

  Jacob shifted on the hammock until he could see Ana’s face. “Men have cheated on you?”

  She nodded. “The first man I’d fallen in love with cheated on me. Then there was one I’d thought of as my soul mate and he also cheated on me. I’m what I think of as a cheater magnet.”

  Combing his fingers through her short hair, Jacob kissed Ana’s forehead when she tilted her chin to look up at him. “No, you’re not. You just haven’t chosen wisely.”

  She smiled. “Now you sound like my father.”

  “Maybe you should listen to him. You’re young, intelligent and beautiful and you probably attract men that want something from you.”

  “And that is?” Ana asked as a slight frown appeared between her eyes.

  “Fame, sex or money. If they can get you to sign them to a record deal, then they’re willing to do anything to get to that point. You’re the gatekeeper and their meal ticket to a lifestyle most people fantasize about. There are also the parasites that don’t have any musical talent but choose to feed off your fame.”

  “I’ve never advertised my love life.”

  “It doesn’t matter if you do or don’t. Every man who hooks up with you believes he’ll be the one to capture the golden goose. And I’m certain you have men hitting on you all the time.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  One of Jacob’s eyebrows lifted questioningly. “You can’t be that naïve. You don’t believe that whenever a man shows an interest in you he wants something?”

  “Why can’t they just want me for me?”

  “That’s an age-old question not too many people can answer.”

  “What about you, Jacob? If we’d met under a different set of circumstances what would you want from me?”

  Jacob pointed to the middle of her chest. “Your heart. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

  Ana’s expression changed, growing serious, and she becoming increasingly uneasy under his steady gaze. Sunlight filtering through the leaves of the ancient trees cast long and short shadows over his handsome face. “That’s it?”

  “What else is there, Princess? I don’t want or need your money. I’ll never be able to match your earning power, but I make enough to support myself, a wife and children, if and when I decide to marry. I don’t want fame, and if I need sex I know who I can call for that.”

  “So, you’d cheat on me, too.”

  “No, baby. I wouldn’t cheat on you. Once I commit I’d never think of sleeping with another woman.”

  Her eyelids fluttered wildly. “How do you know that if you’ve never been married?”

  “Because I’m too much like the Jones men in my family. We don’t cheat on our wives.”

  “Look me up ten years from now and I’ll ask you whether you’ve cheated on your wife. If you haven’t, then you’ll restore my faith in the opposite sex.”

  Jacob shook his head. He didn’t want to believe a couple of indiscretions had soured Ana on men. Not all men were liars, cheaters, deadbeat dads, physically or verbally abusive. Most went to work, collected their paychecks, made love to their wives and loved and protected their children. That’s how he’d been raised and that is what he would do if he ever married.

  “Make it two years, m’ija.”

  “Two years it is, m’ijo.”

  Jacob sealed their promise with a kiss that left both of them breathing heavily and fighting for control of emotions and hormones that were running amuck. He could feel Ana’s heartbeat keeping tempo with his own, and he knew if they didn’t get out of the hammock he would beg her to let him make love to her where anyone could see them.

  “I think it’s time we go inside before we embarrass ourselves.”

  Ana nodded. “I agree.”

  Chapter 10

  Jacob’s cell phone rang and he went still. It was Diego’s ring tone. Hopefully his friend was calling with good news. If they’d caught the shooter, then his time with Ana would be over. Just when he was getting used to her mercurial moods she would leave. He excused himself and walked off the enclosed back porch where he’d spent the past two hours with his uncle watching a baseball game between the Marlins and Giants.

  He tapped a button. “What’s up?”

  “Where are you, Jake?”

  All of his senses were now on full alert. “I’m at my uncle’s house in Key West. Why?”

  “I’m having the je
t fueled as we speak. I need you to get to the Marathon airport within the next two hours. Henri will meet you. He’ll have Ana’s passport.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “You know that private island I bought in the Bahamas for investment purposes.”

  “What about it?” Jacob asked.”

  “Well, you’re going to live there for a while.”

  “What changed?” He couldn’t believe he sounded so calm when his heart was pumping painfully in his chest.

  “We managed to bug Irvine’s girlfriend’s apartment. Our man told us she also worked at Slow Wyne.”

  “Worked?” Jacob noticed Diego had used the past tense.

  “Apparently someone discovered the bug but not before the investigators recorded his pillow-talk confession. He claimed next time his person wasn’t going to miss.”

  “Did he mention Ana’s name?”

  “No. What we were able to record was him saying, ‘that bitch at Serenity.’”

  “Do you know who uncovered the bug?”

  “Not yet.” There came a pause. “Her body was found in the desert earlier this morning with a single gunshot to the head and her tongue cut out. The police haven’t released her name pending next of kin, but our man has a reliable contact with the LAPD who identified her as Camille Nelson. Apparently she was an exotic dancer in her former life.”

  Jacob swore under his breath. Unfortunately the woman had become collateral damage. “What do you want me to tell Ana?”

  “Tell her I’m meeting with the cotton broker in Uganda and I can’t get away to take care of some problems at the resort. I’d like you to convince her that the two of you are going undercover as a couple, and that I need her to evaluate staff performance of the front desk, room service and the kitchen. I’ve already made reservations in the names of Mr. and Mrs. Jacob Jones. I told the manager you’re family, so you won’t be billed for anything. Meanwhile the investigators are going to step up the pressure on Irvine. We have to take down this sick sonofabitch before there’s another murder.”

  There was edge in Diego’s voice Jacob had never heard before. “It appears as if Irvine and/or his people are playing for keeps. Killing that girl execution style and cutting out her tongue is sending a message to anyone thinking of diming Irvine out. The man has to be psychopathic if he’d ordered a hit on a woman he was sleeping with. Do whatever you have to do to take him down, Diego.”

  That said, he ended the call and walked back to the porch. He sat down next to Ray. “Ana and I have to leave.”

  Ray removed his glasses and sat up straight. “Now?”

  Jacob nodded. “Yes. My friend is sending his jet to pick us up at the Marathon airport.”

  “Can you tell me where you’re going?”

  “It’s a private island in the Caribbean.”

  Ray stood up. “What the hell is going on?”

  “I wish I knew, Uncle Ray.” Jacob hugged him. “I’ll be in touch when we get back.”

  “You tell your girlfriend she still owes me a duet.”

  “I’ll let her know. Tell Mattie I’ll see her the next time I come down.”

  Jacob was practically running when he took the stairs two at a time. Opening the door to the bedroom, he stood motionless, staring at the bed. Ana hadn’t turned off the lamp on his side of the bed.

  He knew he wasn’t able to become actively involved in the investigation to identify the shooter. However, it had been different with Vivienne Cole-Thomas. Her late husband, a U.S. congressman had been killed in a hit-and-run. As the southeast regional supervisory deputy for the United States Marshal Service Jacob had worked closely with Vivienne to apprehend those behind the conspiracy responsible for the congressman’s murder.

  He hadn’t hesitated when Diego asked him to step in and protect his cousin, but his friend had upped the ante because now they had to pretend to be married. Jacob wanted to tell Diego that he and Ana couldn’t be any more married. They were living together and sharing a bed. All that was needed was a license, exchange of vows and consummating the union.

  Jacob had had liaisons with women—some brief and others longer than he’d expected, yet none of the women affected him in the way Ana did. It hadn’t been a week since she’d walked out of the terminal at the Marathon airport and somehow she’d managed to disrupt his very predictable lifestyle. And much to his surprise it had become a most welcome disruption.

  He approached the bed and sat down. Ana’s eyelids fluttered before they opened and she stared at him. “I tried waiting up for you. What happened?”

  Jacob nuzzled the side of her neck. He wanted to tell her the game was on the West Coast, so it didn’t start until late. “You smell good.” He knew he was stalling for time.

  “You didn’t answer my question, Jacob. What took you so long?”

  “You’re going to have to get up and get dressed.”

  With wide eyes, she sat up. “Where are we going?”

  He repeated what Diego had told him, deliberately withholding the information Diego had told about the body in the desert. Jacob suspected he wanted Ana out of the country before she saw news footage about Basil Irvine’s girlfriend’s murder.

  “We’re going down tonight.”

  “Is it that critical?” she asked.

  “Diego believes it is. He’s invested too much in this venture to have it fail.”

  Ana swung her legs over the side of the bed. “I suppose I’d better get dressed and packed.”

  She’d shocked him again. Jacob hadn’t expected her to accept the justification for their unexpected departure from the Keys to the Bahamas without balking or further questioning. He rarely, if ever, lied, but apparently Ana either believed him or she’d reached the point in their relationship where she’d begun to trust him unconditionally.

  * * *

  Reaching for Jacob’s hand, Ana held it tightly when the jet began its descent into Cannamore Cay. She didn’t like flying at night, and especially with the aircraft landing on an island runway in the Caribbean. The island was made up of three hundred and sixty acres.

  She closed her eyes, counting slowly. When Diego had disclosed that he’d bought an uninhabited island in the Bahamas she’d given him a look that spoke volumes because ColeDiz hadn’t needed another vacation property. Then her cousin explained that Cannamore Cay wouldn’t fall under the control of the family-owned conglomerate, but that he’d purchased it as a legacy for his children.

  When Diego’s driver met her and Jacob at the Marathon airport, Henri had handed Ana her passport. It was apparent her parents knew she was leaving the country because her official documents were stored in a safe at their house. They were driven to Jacob’s Miami apartment where he’d retrieved his passport, then they were back in the air on their way to Cannamore Cay.

  She opened her eyes as runway lights came into view and Ana felt as if she’d been holding her breath until the wheels to the sleek Gulfstream G550 touched the macadam, landing smoothly as if gliding on an icy surface.

  “You can let go of my hand now,” Jacob said in her ear. She was certain her nails would leave half-moon impressions on his skin.

  Ana removed her hand. She stared at Henri who’d reclined his seat into a bed within seconds of takeoff and now was seated in the upright position when the voice of the pilot filled the cabin asking them to prepare for landing. When the taciturn driver/bodyguard met them at the Marathon airport he’d revealed that he would accompany her and Jacob to the Bahamas, go with them to the resort and then return to the jet for the flight back to West Palm Beach.

  The jet came to a complete stop and the copilot emerged from the cockpit to lower the steps. Whenever she had flown in the company jet it had been with a crew that included the pilot, copilot and one or two attendants. Tonight there were no attendants, just an armed bodyguard. Jacob told her he’d left his handgun in a safe in his apartment, and had only brought his passport, shield and photo ID.

  A limousine bearing the
logo of the island resort on the passenger-side doors waited as they disembarked. Henri and Jacob transferred their luggage from the jet to the trunk of the limo and minutes later they were seated inside the luxury vehicle and heading toward the resort that had taken more than two years to complete.

  Henri closed the partition separating the rear of the limo from the driver. He handed Jacob an envelope, then ring boxes. “Starting now you’re Mr. and Mrs. Jacob Stephen Jones. The envelope contains a valid marriage license.” He held up a hand when Ana opened her mouth. “Please let me finish, Mrs. Jones,” he urged in French-accented English. “Mr. Cole-Thomas arranged everything, including your marriage in absentia. If you have any questions, then you will have to ask him once you return to the States. He told me to tell you that the marriage is legal and binding, and he’ll also arrange to annul it.” He nodded to Jacob. “Mr. Jones, I suggest you put your rings on now.”

  Ana closed her eyes, unable to believe what Diego had concocted. There was no doubt her cousin had instructed his bodyguard to wait until they were on the ground in the Bahamas to mention the sham of a wedding. Diego had to know she would’ve never agreed to a marriage of convenience if he’d presented it to her before their abrupt departure.

  Controlling and dictatorial; the two words didn’t begin to describe the CEO of ColeDiz. Her hand was trembling noticeably when Jacob reached for her left hand and slipped an unadorned platinum band on her third finger. He handed her his, and she repeated the gesture with the matching band. Ana didn’t want to ask Henri how Diego had gotten their ring sizes because his answer would only add to her annoyance as to Diego’s intrusion into her life. Had he, she mused, even spoken to her parents about his plan, or had he come up with it on his own?

  A slight gasp escaped her parted lips, and she temporarily forgot about being Mrs. Jones when a two-storied structure appeared, as if growing from the earth. Abundant plantings around the main house and smaller matching structures claimed the ocean as their playground. Even in the dark Ana recognized the exquisite architectural lines reminiscent of the grand plantations built under British Colonial rule.