Reluctant Smuggler

by Jill Elizabeth Nelson

  At the front of the church, Tony waited for his bride. The organ played on…and on…and on. The several dozen guests stirred and shuffled and stared. Could anyone see how his heart was thumping fit to burst from his chest?

  And his stubborn mother seated in the front pew kept her eyes averted so he couldn’t get so much as a clue as to how Desi had reacted to his surprise gifts. Had he made a big mistake? But he couldn’t see doing it any other way. He needed to give her the locket and box today when the memory would forever be woven into “the mystery of covenant union between a man and a woman.” Those were Pastor Grange’s words during premarital counseling. And they were good words. The kind a man could chew on and live by.

  Standing a few feet away with his Bible open, the pastor smiled at him. Tony couldn’t muster one back. Was it okay for the groom to rush up the aisle and carry his bride to the altar? He could manage the feat now, and all the blame went to the guy standing behind him.

  Steve Crane looked halfway civilized in his tux today, but that was deception. Evil Stevo had done everything in his power to make these past weeks of strength training rank right down there with the seventh pit of hell.

  The music changed, and seven-year-old Luke Webb started down the aisle with his four-year-old sister, Emily. Luke placed one shiny-shoed foot in front of the other, tense gaze fixed on the lacy white pillow balanced across his hands. Tony hid a smile. If only he could assure the poor guy again that the bows tied on the rings would hold and that even if he dropped the whole thing, nothing would get away. Emily skipped around her brother—literally—smiling and waving. A basket swung at her side, spilling red silk rose petals on the runner. Well, that was one way to get them spread around. Amusement rippled through the gathering.

  When the kids reached the front, Luke shoved the pillow at Stevo and scuttled to his seat between Max Webb’s sister Jo and Jo’s daughter, Karen. Tony winked at Luke, and the little guy finally cracked a smile as he wiped sweat from his forehead with his tux sleeve. Emily tugged at Tony’s pants leg and lifted her arms. He picked her up, kissed her plump cheek, and deposited her on the other side of a chuckling Jo.

  By the time he got back to his position, Max was gliding down the aisle. If Desi’s best friend beamed any brighter, she could start a career as a lighthouse.

  The organ crescendoed into “The Wedding March,” and Tony’s heart rate hit the moon.

  Desiree!

  Everyone rose at the brides entrance. No more than this unearthly creatures due. Tony’s world narrowed to one occupant, and she floated toward him. Pure. Seductive. Did her dainty feet even touch the floor? His own sure didn’t feel connected to anything so ordinary.

  One of her hands left the cascading floral arrangement she carried, and her fingertips touched the gold locket at her throat.

  Desi reached the front of the church, gave her bouquet to Max, and turned to face him. Amazing that his hands didn’t shake as he lifted the gauze veil. Her face glowed with beauty deeper than the smooth skin, fine features, and full, parted lips. Thank you, she mouthed. Sparklers ignited in Tony’s belly. Could he kiss his bride now?

  Their hands joined, her little ones swallowed in his big ones. The pastor spoke, but the words washed around Tony. Desi’s expressive face, the sweep of her eyelashes, the ebb and flow of color on her cheeks captivated his attention. The vows sprang from the core of his being. Rings found the proper fingers, a candle was lit, more talking, some kneeling, then standing. The pace slowed as bride and groom shared Communion, a reminder of the third Party to their marriage. Finally the pastor said the words that cut Tony loose.

  Husband and wife? Yes! And he did Kiss his bride. Not a common kiss. Oh, no. He claimed her, and her soft lips gave as good as she got Life with her would always be that way.

  Standing beside Mama Gina in the reception hall, Desi watched Tony mingle with guests. He’d shed his tux jacket, and the white shirt stretched across broad shoulders with every smooth, controlled movement. Her Tony was almost back to his old self as he proved when the music started, and he turned out to be an expert at the Chicken Dance. Thank You, Jesus.

  That new agent, Bergstrom, held his infant son toward Tony, and the suave groom took the baby like he was handling a dozen eggs minus the carton. Well, maybe not every movement smooth and controlled. Desi laughed out loud and Mama Gina with her.

  The older woman shook her head. “When the time comes, hell catch on.”

  “I’ve got as much to learn in the baby department as he does.”

  “Then you will learn together. It is the best way. Shoo, now. Go to him.”

  Desi kissed Mama Gina’s cheek and walked toward her man as he passed the child to the infant’s mother. Tony slapped the new rather on the shoulder and waved as Bergstrom ushered his family toward the door.

  She looped her arm in Tony’s. “You ready to bask in the tropical sun?”

  He brushed his lips against her ear. “The basking depends on whether we leave our suite.”

  She swatted his solid bicep, but a delicious tingle shivered through her.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Lucano!”

  Tony took Bernard Cooke’s hand. Desi greeted the big black man and his stocky wife.

  Mrs. Cooke wrinkled her nose. “Bernie’d win a best impression contest if there were a foghorn category.”

  Tony’s boss frowned down at his wife, but his eyes smiled. “Keeps the troops in line, woman.” He nodded toward Desi. “I just wanted to offer my condolences to the bride.”

  Everyone chuckled.

  “Thank you for coming,” Desi’s said. “Your support has meant a lot, and not just for today. Your hospital visit and granting extended leave—well, we appreciate everything.”

  “The bureau doesn’t let go of a good agent lightly.” He jabbed a finger at Tony. “We expect you back in top form, Lucano.”

  I’m on it, sir.”

  “Don’t cut yourself any slack.” Then he looked at Desi. “You’re the wind in his sails now, the starch in his backbone, the—”

  “Power behind the throne.” Mrs. Cooke laughed and gathered Desi in a rib-creaking hug. “Welcome to the bureau, dear.”

  Catching her breath, Desi watched the couple leave. “Wow! I think I just got inducted into the military.”

  “Pretty close.” Tony’s chin jutted.

  She touched his arm. “Don’t worry. You’ll make it.”

  Tony pressed the back of her hand to his lips. “This is our time. Forget the bureau.”

  “I never thought I’d hear those words from you.”

  “You won’t hear them often.” His lopsided grin sent her blood racing.

  “Hey, you two, it’s about time you scoot out of here.” Max rustled up to them, her sister in tow. The resemblance was clear in the freckles and flyaway red hair, but not so much in the eyes. Similar shades of green, but Max’s radiated vigor and enthusiasm, while tired wariness lurked behind Jo’s smile.

  Desi hugged Jo. “I visited with your daughter, and she says Brent’s almost finished his degree and has a job offer right there in Albuquerque.”

  Jo smiled. “I’m lucky they’re stickin’ around. Don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t see little Adam as much as I want.”

  “Brent and Karen have found a great new church too.” Max said.

  “Wonderful.” Desi looked at Jo. “Have you gone with them yet?”

  “They keep tryin’ to drag me along, but I’m not ready to listen to no new preacher.”

  Max flung an arm around Jo. “You know my sister. Born with a knot in her head.”

  “Hey!” Jo delivered an elbow to Max’s middle.

  The sisters wandered off, laughing.

  Tony’s arm circled Desi’s waist. “I’m with Max’s orders to vamoose.”

  “You won’t hear an argument from me.”

  He laughed. “I’ll savor the moment.”

  Hand in hand, they strolled toward the door, saying good-bye to guests. At last, they reached the co
atrack. From across the room, Regan, the HJ Securities CFO, waved the bridal bouquet she’d caught. Desi waved back, while Tony helped her put on her coat. Then he grabbed her arm, and they threw politeness to the winds and charged out the door. Ignoring the nip of a March wind, they barreled for Tony’s car, and he tucked her into the passenger seat, taking tender care of her dress. No wonder she loved this man.

  When they reached his town house—their town house—Tony pulled the car into the garage. Desi grabbed the door handle, but Tony tugged her back and caught her lips with his. When they came up for air, the windows wore a coat of steam.

  “Whew!” Her voice quavered.

  “Don’t move.” Tony tapped her nose with a finger. He got out and came around to her door. Offering his hand, he helped her emerge.

  Desi took a step, not sure her knees would hold her up. Tony fixed the problem by scooping her into his arms. She snuggled her head into the crook of his neck and inhaled his fragrance that reminded her of new leather and seasoned pine. The journey across the threshold and through the rooms to their private sanctum took forever, yet passed in a blink

  Tony let her legs unfold to the floor but held her against him. Eyes closed, she turned her face up for his kiss, but when his lips didn’t meet hers, she peeped at him through her lashes. He wore the kind of smile she imagined came over a man when he was about to step onto the pinnacle of a mountain and see at last what lay on the other side.

  He turned her away from him. “I’ve had a recurring daydream of helping you with your fastenings whenever I please, but my wildest imagination never conjured this nightmare of a thousand tiny buttons.”

  Desi cast him a heavy-lidded gaze over her shoulder. “Not quite that many, Mr. Lucano. But I’ll always present a challenge. You can count on it.”

  “I can hardly wait, Mrs. Lucano.” His fingers worked the first button.

  Early the next morning, Desi tossed makeup into her kit and ran a brush through her hair at the same time. They’d hit snooze on the alarm one too many times, and all the extra kisses they grabbed while getting ready didn’t speed the process. Good thing they’d packed most things before the wedding, or the cause would be hopeless.

  “Taxi’s here, hon.” Tony’s call came from the living room.

  She dashed out of the bathroom with her makeup kit, grabbed the handle of her wheelie, and almost bumped into her handsome hunk of a husband. He snatched a kiss, grabbed her suitcase, and headed out the front door. Desi threw on her coat and took her purse from the credenza. She turned away, let out a squeak, and turned back.

  “The tickets!” She scooped them up, along with President Montoya’s letter.

  “Don’t forget those.” Tony held open the front door. “They cost us enough.”

  “Very funny, buster.” She tapped his chest with the papers as she went by.

  Settled into the taxi, Desi leaned her head on Tony’s shoulder and closed her eyes. Cancún, here we come. First class all the way, and not to some teeming tourist haven, but a private villa twenty miles from the city, courtesy of the Mexican government. Who could argue with a free deluxe honeymoon, especially when a president insisted? Even if El Jaguar was still hunting for them, he’d already proved he could get to them anywhere. She and Tony had discussed the situation into the ground, and they agreed: Mexico was the last place he’d look.

  Twenty-Two

  Desi stood on the veranda of their villa, sipping chai tea. The warm sea breeze fluttered her silk robe against bare legs. She breathed deep and gathered the scents of mimosa and ocean tang. The rays of the morning sun teased sparkles from white sand and danced with turquoise waves. A third gorgeous honeymoon day.

  She stepped to the veranda rail and looked down the beach. A tall male figure dressed in shorts and a T-shirt raced along the edge of the water, long legs devouring the distance between them. His face came into focus, gaze fixed on her like a homing beacon. She smiled and waved. Tony’s pace redoubled, arms pumping, muscles gleaming with sweat. All man, and all hers. Oops! And a huge distraction. Warmth seeped through her robe where she’d slopped tea down her front.

  Tony’s sneaker-clad feet smacked the stone steps that led to the veranda. He leaped up the last two and landed in front of her. His breath sawed in and out, and he bent over and gripped the tops of his knees. Then he popped upright and paced the length of the veranda rail.

  Desi wiped at the wet spot on her robe. “How far did you go today?”

  He lifted a hand, four fingers up.

  Same as yesterday, but she smiled. “That’s great.”

  “Not far…enough… Too slow.”

  “But you’re getting faster, right?”

  He continued his cool-down stride and didn’t answer.

  Tony’s fierce words from last evening haunted Desi’s ears. “It’s like I’ve hit a wall.” And before they went to sleep she’d caught him studying his fitness chart with a furrow in his brow.

  “What’s on for this morning?”

  His question brought Desi back to the present. She checked her watch. “ We’ve got reservations with a group on a snorkeling adventure boat in fifty minutes.”

  “A group? Then I’d better grab a shower.” He stepped through the French doors into their bedroom suite and peeled off his T-shirt. “Im pretty ripe.” He disappeared into the bathroom.

  Desi stood still, lower lip caught between her teeth. Tony or snorkeling? Snorkeling or Tony? Snorkeling could wait. She strode into the bathroom.

  He looked over his shoulder from adjusting the spray of water and laughed. She shot him a wicked grin and shut the door.

  Hip-deep in the ocean in front of their villa, Tony moved in a slow circle, studying the rolling surface of the water. Moonlight gleamed from the tips of the swells. You can’t hide below forever, Des. A splash sounded, followed by her husky laugh. He whirled and lunged, snagging her waist, and they both went under. She struggled, but only until he caught her mouth in a salty kiss. They rose from the water, laughing.

  “Had enough, babe?” He tickled her dripping chin.

  “Im ready for a little R and R under the stars.” She caught his hand, and they waded to the beach.

  After a quick towel-off, they stretched out on a blanket, Desi’s head on his shoulder. The soft shush of waves meeting the crushed coral sand acted like heated oil on Tony’s muscles. A gentle breeze dried his skin without chilling his bones. “I could get used to this climate.”

  “I could get used to honeymooning forever.”

  Tony chuckled. “I’d drive you out of your tree when I started organizing your jewelry case for something to do.”

  “You’ll probably get around to that anyway But you’re right, we each need to keep doing what we do best. Only now—” she propped herself up on her elbow and gazed down at him— “I want to add wife to my expertise. You’ll have to help me learn.”

  He ran his thumb over her cheekbone. “You’re already my favorite wife.”

  “Oh, you. I was serious.”

  “So was I. Sometimes when I crack a joke, I mean it the most.”

  “I’ll try to remember that instead of hauling off and socking you.” She sat up. “Isn’t the night sky beautiful? The stars seem so dose we could reach out and touch them. Oh, I brought that southern constellation chart we got at the tourist information center.” Desi rummaged in her beach bag and pulled out a folded brochure and a small reading light. She pointed into the sky near the horizon. “That’s Sirius, the brightest star in the sky.”

  His gaze followed her finger, then he sat up and studied the chart under the light. “Sorry, babe, but I think you’ve found Canopus, the second-brightest star. Says here it’s part of the Carina constellation. You can’t see the whole formation unless you travel a good way south, but there’s a diagram. The shape is supposed to represent the rudder of a ship.” He handed her the brochure and reading light.

  She tapped her upper lip with one finger. “Oh, my!” The tapping stopped.


  “What—”

  “So simple!” She leaped to her feet. “Albon Guerrera said to ‘gaze upward in the darkness,’ but he knew I couldn’t see Carina from Boston and only in part from Mexico. The dirty rat!”

  “What’s Guerrera got to do with a constellation?” Tony rose, shoulders knotting.

  “Don’t you see? The emeralds in my medallion form Carina. Remember the big gem in the upper right? We thought it was so strange the best jewel was set off to the side. That ones Canopus.” She paced up the beach. “I could strangle Standish or Myles or whoever he is. Now that I’ve found a clue about the medallion, it’s in the grubby hands of some gang leader.”

  Tony caught up to her. “I hate that you were robbed, but thank goodness you weren’t hurt. The medallions a thing—an object. You showed it around, hoping to give an identity to the bones you found in New Mexico. With this constellation clue, you might still be able to do that.”

  “You, Mr. Lucano, are a genius.” She flashed him a megawatt smile and took off in the direction of the villa, feet spraying sand.

  Grinning, Tony shook his head. He’d signed on for never-a-dull-moment with Desiree Jacobs—nope, Lucano now. His wife sparkled brighter than Canopus when a project grabbed her. He picked up their beach things and followed her inside. She was seated at the dinette table, talking on the phone.

  “No, we’re fine. Great, in fact!”

  Tony pulled up a chair beside her. “Max?” he whispered.

  She nodded. “Sorry for calling so late, girlfriend, but this can’t wait. Or more like I can’t wait.” She gave Max the constellation information. “In your spare time—and, yes, that was a joke—I’d like you to sniff around with all your techno-genius. Somewhere in history there must be a native Mexican or Spanish immigrant family that found the Carina constellation significant. I want to know if there are any living descendants. Think you can handle that?” She laughed. “And, yep, that was a joke too.”

  The ladies chitchatted another five minutes, then ended the call.