by Tanya Stowe
Lara swallowed, trying hard not to show her discomfort. “If he’s the tall, dark stranger like in a romance, he can save me.”
Milly shook his head. “He can help you, but you have to save yourself, Lara. You have to decide who you are and what you must do.”
Lara’s joking attitude fled. “Milly, maybe you can make sense of all this, but it’s too mysterious and confusing for me. I’m starting to get a little scared.”
Milly sighed heavily. “I know. This is how things come to me, in bits and pieces and cloudy. Sometimes it’s more trouble than help. I’m not a very capable messenger. But it’s always true. So I’ve learned to just listen to the promptings of the Holy Spirit, to listen and wait until it all makes sense. I’ve learned to go with the flow.”
Lara smiled. “Someone else has been telling me I need to do the same thing.”
“He’s right. You have to listen to him.”
Lara halted. “I didn’t say it was a him.”
Milly shrugged. “But it is. I wish I could tell you something to help you understand. Perhaps now you would pray with me.”
Lara paused and stared off into space. She hadn’t prayed since she’d arrived. Hadn’t asked for God’s guidance once, not even when she’d been most tempted by Alex’s kisses, or just a few minutes ago when she needed to face her father’s friends. She’d forgotten Him, but He had not forgotten her. “I think that’s the best idea I’ve heard all night.”
Milly smiled her sweet, shy smile and grasped Lara’s hands. Almost immediately Lara felt heat emanating from Milly’s fingers—a comforting warmth…as if Jesus himself had taken her hands to soothe her fears.
“Lord,” Milly began. “We ask you to open Lara’s heart and mind to Your path for her. We ask You to give her discernment in the days ahead and most of all, to protect and guide her.” Milly ended the prayer, released Lara, and then stepped back. “I feel better now. I know you have some help.”
Avery Johansson called to his wife as the group headed in the direction of a limousine parked at the curb. “I have to go. We leave for L.A. tomorrow for a recording session,” Milly said. “We’re flying out early.” She grasped Lara’s hand. “You’ve come to Sedona for a reason, Lara. Let Him guide you and strengthen you. You’ll know what to do when the time is right.” With another of her soft, shy smiles, she turned and followed her husband.
He wrapped an arm protectively around her as he led her back to the car. As he helped Milly in, he turned back to Lara and waved once, almost as if to reassure her.
Lara stood in stunned silence even after they had gone. Danger and trust. Decisions coming out of indecision. Far too mystical to follow, and yet…somehow she was beginning to believe. From the moment she’d stood on the balcony and watched the Sedona sunset, she’d felt different, touched by God. Was she really headed for danger? Did the future of the school depend on what she did?
Not if Brett had anything to do with it. He was determined to keep her out of it.
But she was the only one doing anything about their current problems. It didn’t make any sense. Shivering, she tugged her coat tight. Across the street, Rupert Townsend walked toward the shopping village. His taciturn, no-nonsense nature could help her get back on firm ground. She hurried ahead to loop her arm through his. “Thank you,” she said in a quiet voice.
The older man turned slightly before laying his hand over hers.
“Sometimes even wise old men need a challenge or two.”
Lara shook her head. “It’s funny. Everyone seems to be telling me the same things these days. Someone else just told me life should be full of challenges and change.”
“Really? Sounds like an interesting person. Anyone I know?”
Lara slanted a look at Rupert. “Perhaps you know him.”
She said nothing more and Rupert laughed. “Lara, Lara. You know my most intimate secret, but won’t even hint at one of yours.”
“I have no secrets,” she replied.
“Now that, my dear, is a shame. A woman like you should have many secrets.” Rupert Townsend was too clever, intuitive.
If she said any more, he might just put two and two together. But maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing. Maybe what she needed was someone to talk to. She studied his profile in silence. Could she trust him? She had such a hard time placing confidence in anyone but her closest family friends, and now even their motives were called into question. How could she rely on Rupert Townsend to keep her secrets? She couldn’t.
Milly was right. Lara needed to find the truth for herself, to rely on her own instincts. Gripping Rupert’s arm, Lara walked toward the entrance to the shops.
Tlaquepaque Village was of Spanish colonial design, complete with enclosing six-foot walls. Wrought iron balconies extended beyond wooden shutter doors. Ivy covered rounded archways, stucco walls studded with wood, and hand-painted tiles completed the picture. A thousand tiny white lights lit the complex from the Christmas season just passed.
They entered a broad central plaza. The lights from the surrounding shop doors spilled like golden streams into the darkened area. Freestanding wrought iron fireplaces crackled and snapped with warm flames, creating a welcome glow over the plaza.
Outside one shop, small tables and chairs were situated close to a fire stand. People were already seated in them and telltale whispers of smoke floated up into the night sky. The scent of pipe tobacco wafted toward Lara and her companion.
Rupert took a deep breath. “Mmmm. It’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed that scent. I just might break my doctor’s orders tonight.”
“Life is about challenges,” Lara said with a smile.
As they approached the group, something caught Lara’s eye. Guards in black suits stood on each side of the central water fountain. Eliza had said something about a surprise.
Lara’s stomach clenched. She rounded the corner and spotted two stools in front of the tobacco shop. She stopped, but not soon enough. Alex and Carlos emerged from the shadows behind the fountain and took their seats on the stools. Alex carried La Guitarra.
Panic shot through Lara. Here she was, beneath a sky shot with brilliant stars, so close she could almost touch them. The glow of orange fires cast shadows over everyone.
Alex had that incredible guitar in his hands. He would play Flamenco music. She would feel the rhythms and the need to respond and she’d slip into sensual overload.
Rupert turned to see where her gaze was fixed. Leaning down so only she could hear, he said, “I think you fibbed, little Lara. I think you have a secret.”
“No, I don’t,” she replied in a near whisper.
“That’s too bad.” Regret filled Rupert’s tone, and her gaze rose to his face.
“I’m going to buy myself a cigar. Why don’t you stay here and enjoy the concert.”
“I’ll go with you.” She moved to follow him.
Shaking his head, he held her still. “Lara, Lara. You’re not afraid to face down a toothless old lion, but you run from one with teeth. I expected more from you.” Patting her hand, he left her standing in the plaza.
A lion with teeth. Alex. He could consume her, swallow her up with his music of life, and there would be no escape for her…none.
As Alex and Carlos took their seats, a crowd gathered.
She stood stock still behind the bodies, safely hidden from Alex’s alert gaze. If she could just stay there, she would be protected from him and his voice.
Wrong.
The first chords rippled across the cold night air, La Guitarra crying out a mournful sound.
The music penetrated deep inside, to the place she kept hidden, safe from curious eyes. Every nerve in her body tingled.
She didn’t want to listen, to feel, didn’t want to see the images his music conjured. Visions of bubbling streams and battles filled her mind. Gypsy camps. Soldiers scooping women into their arms and galloping into the night.
Alex started to play his modern flamenco music.
&n
bsp; Suddenly, a brilliant sunset filled Lara’s mind, bringing light and warmth to every inch of her being. She wanted to sway and dip, to spin with pure delight.
What would it be like to be Lucia? To let go, to dance when she pleased, and how she pleased? She would close her eyes and let the music pour into her. It would flow out in vibrant dance. Lara’s arms moved without conscious thought. She caught herself. Opening her eyes, she looked around. She’d been swaying, moving, almost dancing.
The people closest to her were watching her with curious sidelong glances.
Recovering quickly, Lara gave a small, embarrassed smile and hurried away from the plaza into the dark, twisting lanes of closed shops. She’d stay here until the performance was over, and then she could slip by everyone and make her way back to her car.
She wandered deeper into the shopping village, farther away from the noise of the concert, but distance didn’t help. Reminders of Alex and his music were everywhere. She passed a shop with a painting easel in the window. It depicted a peasant village on the edge of the sea. Fishing nets were draped around and boats bobbed on the sparkling waters behind. A brilliant silver moon glowed over villagers gathered around a bonfire. All of them were dancing. Men and women, with their arms woven around each other, in and out of poses that seemed natural and normal, and yet so incredibly sensual.
Lara was certain if she looked close enough, she’d find the guitar player hidden in the picture, masterminding their movements.
“You wanted to dance. Why didn’t you?”
The voice made her jump.
Alex had managed to finish the concert and escape the crowd to find her. It shouldn’t have surprised her. Turning slowly, she saw him standing inches away, dipped in shadows and silhouetted against the ebony sky behind him. A slice of moon lit one side of his features. His loose, white shirt fell in soft folds around his shoulders and over his hands. He looked like a troubadour out of the past…one who had come to sweep her off her feet. But Lara needed to keep herself firmly planted in the twenty-first century.
“I never dance in public,” she said, her voice shaky.
“Ahh, yes, I forgot. You’re not free to be yourself.”
So close to the truth, his words pierced. How could he know her so well when no one else did? Even her own father didn’t understand or guess at the turmoil inside her.
“I wasn’t the performer tonight. You were.” She shoved her hands in her coat pockets and stepped away from the shop window.
“But you were a part of my performance. I played for you.”
Lara halted. She turned to look at him. His eyes were dark and sincere, his features open and vulnerable.
“Why? Why did you play for me?” she whispered.
He ran his fingers along her cheek. “Because when I look at you, I see my music. Everything I’ve ever felt, ever attempted to capture in lyrics and notes…I see it all in you, Lara. I think I’ve been writing for you all of my life.”
She started to shake her head, but he captured her face with both his hands.
“Don’t,” he murmured as he touched his forehead to hers. “Don’t deny what we both feel, Lara. I see the same thing in your eyes that’s in my heart. No one feels the music as I do, not even Carlos. But you,” he straightened so he could look at her. “When I play, there’s a light in your eyes that can only come from a gypsy fire.”
“We’re not a fairy tale, Alex,” she said. “We’re not the guitar’s lovers.”
“Fairy tales are based on some truth. Some reality. Why not us? Do you have another explanation for this kinship? Have you ever felt this kind of attraction?”
She started to say she had kinship with Brett. But what did she really have with Brett? Their relationship was lost. Lara was lost. The only real thing in her life was the man holding her so tenderly and lighting sparks inside her. She wanted…needed to know what came after the sparks.
“No,” she murmured, leaning towards him. “I’ve never felt like this.”
He framed her face with his hands again. “If you believe nothing else, Lara, believe this. I’ve had a lot of relationships, some I’m not proud of, but this is different. This is real. Like my music. And I’m not going to let it go, Lara, not without a fight. Not without knowing…” He paused.
“Without knowing what?” Lara whispered, her lips inches away from his.
“Without knowing how you feel against me. Without knowing your heart belongs to me. Without knowing if this is as right as everything else about us.”
His arms were around her, anchoring her to him. His lips parted slightly, as if he’d been waiting a long time to taste her and couldn’t believe it was actually happening. He shifted, fitted her to him more closely and gently teased her mouth.
Lost in sensation, she opened her lips to him. She’d never felt like this before. Never wanted more…never imagined that pure physical response could so completely take over. Not her. Not sensible, controlled Lara. But she was lost as Alex’s hands slipped beneath her coat, pressing his warm fingers against her. He surrounded her, filled her with his warmth.
She caught her breath as hands stroked up over her back, along her waist. But she wanted more. She wanted her skin against his. Wanted to feel the warmth beneath his shirt. Whiskers rasped against her cheek, and she reveled in the contrasting sensations. Rough and smooth. Gentle hands with strength to break. A maelstrom of contradictions, wild and unpredictable, he made her feel as if she were flying through a storm…and she loved it.
Then, as if she stood right next to her, Lara heard Milly’s voice, heard her prayer for protection and strength. Just like that, she snapped back to reality. Milly’s prayers were answered. Lara pushed away from Alex. As she put distance between them, he frowned.
“What? Fraser, again?”
Lara shook her head. “No. It’s all me, Alex. You said I needed to find myself and you were right. I’m trying. My faith is an important part of me and I won’t betray it.”
Surprise flitted over his features, and he stepped back.
“I’m sorry if you don’t want to hear the truth.”
“No…no. I’m actually very pleased to hear it, Lara. Surprised, but pleased. You really are discovering yourself. I can’t help but be pleased.” He didn’t look pleased. He looked a little befuddled.
Lara didn’t have time to question him as voices came from down the alley. A small group of people turned the corner.
“I knew he went this way.”
Lara recognized Cynthia Halton’s voice.
As an experienced fifteen-year-old in their Swiss boarding school, Cynthia had worked to perfect that breathy, sexy tone. “You slipped away so fast,” she said to Alex. “We just had to find you and ask you some questions. Oh…we aren’t interrupting anything, are we?”
Her blatantly calculated statement made Lara’s skin crawl, and she couldn’t find it in herself to respond.
“You’re only interrupting if you intend to ask me personal questions I won’t answer,” Alex said in one smooth beat.
A startled silence followed his response.
Alex put Cynthia on the defensive.
One of the men in the group chuckled. “No more personal than asking where I can find your music. I’m very impressed with your technique,” the young man said. “I’m a fan of Flamenco—traditional, of course. I’ve never been very interested in the modern performers…until yesterday when you performed.”
Alex thanked him and they talked about guitars, styles, and performers Lara had never heard of. A slight breeze shimmied up her coat and brushed over her sensitized skin. She shivered.
“Are you cold, Lara?” Alex turned his attention back to her. “Would you like me to walk you back to the fire?”
She shook her head abruptly, imagining what Cynthia would make of it. “Thanks, but don’t interrupt your conversation. I think I’ll be leaving, anyway.” After saying goodnight, she eased away from the group.
Alex’s rigid stance told her
he was not pleased, but he said nothing.
As she reached the corner, Cynthia said, “Say hello to Brett for me.”
Lara gritted her teeth and strode toward the entrance of Tlaquepaque Village, but somehow became confused. She turned down alley after alley, each one more dark than the previous. She was a little frightened by the time she rounded yet another corner and heard voices somewhere in the dark.
“Are you threatening me?” Troy’s unmistakable voice rose above the others.
9
Startled, Lara edged to the corner and peeked around. At the end of the lane, Troy stood facing two large men. Both of them were muscular and bulky, like body builders. Light reflected off one of the men’s faces, and his features struck a familiar chord.
He said something to Troy that Lara couldn’t hear.
Troy’s reaction was plain. His body straightened and his face set in hard, rigid lines. “You are out of your minds. I’ve already told your boss, I will have nothing to do with this. We have a legal business transaction between us which will be fulfilled, but what you’re asking now, I won’t even consider.” He practically spat out the words. Then, spinning on one heel, he turned and disappeared from sight.
The men spoke in low tones for a few moments, and then left the alley in the opposite direction.
Lara released a breath. What did these men want Troy to do? And who was their boss? The way he’d said the word, he obviously had no respect for whoever it was. Was their boss the person Troy had met in the woods earlier today? Lara was sure of it. The person had obviously delivered a message and these men had shown up tonight for an answer. But who was the mysterious boss? What legal transaction did Troy have with the man? Did he want Troy to do something illegal? Is that why Troy refused to do it?
Lara had known Troy all of her life. He was a man of deep conviction. He followed the letter of the law. She didn’t think he’d ever even had a parking ticket. So why did these thugs—and that’s what they were, thugs—think they could sway him? What made them think they could convince him to do something illegal?
Eliza had said Troy was deep in debt, so deep in fact, Eliza was afraid. Could Troy have borrowed money from these men? Was the legal business transaction he mentioned a loan? Did they think they could use his debts to force him to do something illegal?