She held fast, jumping up and down excitedly, strangling Jack with her enthusiasm. “Oh Jack!” she exclaimed, and hugged him tighter, resisting her father as he railed at her in Spanish to release Jack at once.
Jack had a niggling suspicion suddenly that her enthusiasm had less to do with him and more to do with defying her father, because her grip tightened at his furious demands.
“No!” she refused him outright, her tone petulant. And she hugged Jack even tighter in a show of defiance. He was grateful she was fairly tall, otherwise he’d be a hunchback right now. She continued in Spanish. “No me puedes ordenar!”
“Maria!” her father thundered, giving up trying to fight her hold on Jack. There was little affection in the stranglehold.
“Déjalo Papá!”
Attempting to follow their conversation, Jack was unclear as to whether she was trying to protect him or merely defy her father. Maybe both. And evidently she was determined to protect him to death.
Jose seemed ready to trounce him—not that Jack was particularly afraid of the man, but it didn’t help his own cause that he felt Jose was justified in his anger. Jack wasn’t honestly certain he could even hit the man back if Jose decided to hurl a punch.
He concentrated on breathing and gave up the struggle, hoping she’d notice on her own that she was throttling him to death sometime before he passed out at her feet.
His Spanish was good, but not good enough to follow the heated discourse that followed. At last she said something that calmed her father, because he took a step backward, and Maria loosened her grip.
Jack stood there uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck while Jose glared at him. His malaise intensified as Sophie came over with her colorful basket of peppers in hand, her attention obviously having been captured by the scene the three of them had made. She cast him a curious glance, and then turned to assess Maria.
Maria stood defiantly beside him, refusing to give up her place at his side, and gave Sophie the very same assessing look in return.
Jack groaned and felt the pit of his stomach tighten. Christ, it was going to be a long day.
As best he could, he explained to Jose what had happened, in Spanish so Sophie wouldn’t understand, taking full responsibility for his actions. He didn’t want Maria to feel the brunt of her father’s wrath so he took all the blame, but Maria apparently wasn’t about to allow it.
She interrupted at once, making it clear that she was at an age where she had a right to do what she chose... which led to a lengthy argument between father and daughter about a daughter’s rights.
“What’s happening?” Sophie whispered to him. Her brows were drawn together in confusion. She obviously didn’t understand a single word, and for that Jack was grateful.
Jack shrugged. Now wasn’t precisely the time for explanations.
Sophie gave him a frown.
Let her be annoyed with him... he wasn’t the one carting around pictures of past lovers.
And it really didn’t matter that she hadn’t actually been Penn’s lover. She apparently still had every intention of becoming just that. He grit his teeth at the thought.
“Jose…” He interrupted father and daughter. “Perdón. La culpa es mía.”
“No!” Jose exploded. “La culpa es de mi puta hija, que no le puede cerrar las piernas por nadie!”
Jack winced: Apparently he hadn’t been Maria’s only conquest.
Maria turned ten shades of red at her father’s degrading remark and averted her gaze. Jack wasn’t exactly sure if it was out of anger or embarrassment, but it quieted her at once. He explained his reason for coming—not to cause trouble but to ask for Jose’s help.
Jose remained quiet, listening, his thick brows drawn together in a hefty frown. He was much smaller than Jack, but his shoulders must have been twice as broad as Jack’s, and they were tense now as he listened, giving Jack a sense of unease.
Jose began to shake his head as Jack went on to explain exactly what he needed from him, refusing him outright. He didn’t blame the man, but still he tried. He didn’t know who else to ask.
Sophie and Maria went back to inspecting each other.
In the meantime, a man came up to the booth and asked Maria for onions. Maria’s cheeks turned pink, and she shook her head briskly to say they had none. She waved him away, eyeing her father warily, and then turned again to the smiling customer. The two shared a brief look, and she tilted him a pleading glance. He nodded and hurriedly left.
Jack lifted his brows, wondering what else the man had wanted besides onions.
“What did that man say?” Sophie asked Jack as Jose launched into a fervent explanation for why he wouldn’t guide them. Jack tried to keep up with him and listen to Sophie at the same time.
She tugged at his sleeve. “What did that man say?”
He frowned at her. “What man?” he answered impatiently.
Sophie raised herself on tiptoes to whisper in his ear, while Jose continued explaining that it was not only his anger for his daughter that kept him from agreeing to guide Jack to the jungle ruins, but his sense of responsibility to his family. He could no longer justify traipsing off into the jungles and leaving his family to fend for themselves. It was his fault, he added, that his daughter was so loose with her favors because he hadn’t been around to keep her safe. He intended to change all that... beginning today.
“The one who was just here,” Sophie explained, and pointed out the man in question, who was now lingering at another booth trying to buy his onions elsewhere, making flirty eyes at the woman behind the counter. “What did he say?”
Jack blinked at her. “He wanted to know if they had onions for sale.”
Sophie’s brows knit as she considered that, and Jack returned his full attention to Jose.
Sophie tried to remember exactly how he’d worded it: No tienes sayboyas? That was it precisely. No tienes sayboyas? “No tienes sayboyas?” she repeated to herself, trying to memorize the phrase.
She tapped Jack on the shoulder. He turned to look at her, his expression somewhat harried. She didn’t bother to remind him how rude it was to leave her so completely out of his conversation. He hadn’t even bothered to introduce her. Was she supposed to twiddle her thumbs until he decided to include her? “I really hate to interrupt,” she told him, “but how do you say onions in Spanish?”
He blinked at her. “Cebollas,” he answered.
Sophie nodded.
All right then... if sayboyas were onions... then no tienes must mean “do you have.” She tried to remember that while she endeavored to ignore the woman who was staring at her so rudely and so suspiciously.
Maria, Jack had called her.
She tried not to acknowledge the attraction Maria obviously had for Jack, and tried not to notice the way her gaze shifted to desire when she managed to pry her eyes away from Sophie to look at him.
But she couldn’t help but wonder who the woman was.
And she couldn’t help but be just a little jealous... even though she told herself she wasn’t... not at all.
Though whoever she was, she was someone Jack was obviously very familiar with... judging by the grip she’d had on Jack’s throat. Sophie’s stomach turned at the thought of Jack and Maria together in any form or fashion.
But then... she really didn’t want to think of it, so she thought instead of breakfast. She was eager to prove herself, and itching to begin. But first she needed eggs. Should she scramble them or should she make them into perfect little suns, with the yolks bright yellow and the whites perfectly formed?
She patted her basket in approval. She had plenty of the colorful peppers and intended to throw them into the pan along with ham. And she had plenty of smoked ham from the ship’s pantry, but she needed bread as well.
Growing impatient to return so that she could begin, she tapped Jack on the shoulder again and whispered, trying not to distract the man he was talking to from his explication, “How do you say eggs?”<
br />
He gave her a curious look.
“How do you say eggs in Spanish?” she asked again.
His brows collided, but he answered. “Huevos.”
Sophie mentally added that to what she already knew and practiced it to herself a few times, committing it to memory. No tienes huevos? No tienes huevos? No tienes huevos.
She kept repeating the phrase to herself, dutifully ignoring the glaring woman. She tried to be patient with the interminable conversation going on between Jack and the man, who, she now assumed through Jack’s conversation, was named Jose. He was either the woman’s husband or her father... and judging by their ages, she assumed father.
No tienes huevos, she repeated mentally while she waited for her chance to speak.
She really ought to ask Jose first, before looking elsewhere. It wouldn’t make much sense to run around looking for eggs elsewhere if Jose had them to sell, but their conversation was becoming tedious. She couldn’t understand a single word they were saying and she was growing impatient... not to mention battling a severe case of jealousy that was growing to monstrous proportions.
Never in her life would she have guessed herself capable of such terrible envy, but she was. She wanted desperately to put her hand possessively on Jack’s arm, but couldn’t bring herself to do it, so she found herself standing so close to him that she could smell the wonderful scent of his skin.
Her body remembered, and warmed. It drew her nearer, despite her resolve not to appear competitive with that woman!
She refused to lower herself to such an unseemly level of behavior. If Jack chose to be with her, then so be it. He wasn’t hers to command—and neither was she his!
Still... she had every right to stand as close to him as she pleased. She was the one making breakfast for him after all!
She cast the woman a baleful glare, though she really hadn’t meant to, and then became annoyed with herself when the woman returned it.
What on earth was she doing trading evil glances with a woman over a man who wasn’t even hers?
It was ridiculous, and Sophie was ready to go, but Jack seemed to be pleading with Jose for something, determined to win his compliance.
Jose shook his head, stubbornly refusing whatever Jack was requesting of him.
His daughter’s hand in marriage?
Sophie’s stomach twisted at the ridiculous notion. Her thoughts were running amok. Jack was not the sort of man to make love to her one day and marry another woman the next.
Still, she decided they weren’t getting anywhere, and she wasn’t going to stand around and watch them butt heads all day long like two stubborn bulls. She decided to go look for her eggs now. At least that would while away some of the time while they argued.
The man continued to shake his head, not speaking, only staring at Jack, and Sophie didn’t feel the least bit guilty about interrupting this time. She had shopping to do. It wasn’t pleasant for her to stand here and listen to them argue in a language she didn’t understand while that woman glared at her in a language she couldn’t help but comprehend!
Sophie didn’t like her, or her father, either, and it must have come across in her tone. “No tienes huevos?” she blurted at the man, and was quite pleased with the way it flowed from her tongue.
Jack’s head spun about, and the man’s did as well.
The woman gasped and put a hand over her mouth.
The man glared at her, and his face began to mottle.
Sophie peered up at Jack. “What’s wrong?” she asked, sensing something was terribly wrong.
Jack’s expression was full of something like horror.
Something was definitely very wrong.
Sophie’s eyes went wide. Her belly fluttered nervously. “What! What did I say?”
Jack had only time to open his mouth, when the man hurled a fist at Jack’s face. It hit Jack’s jaw with a sickening thud.
Sophie screamed as Jack went tumbling backward at the unexpected impact. She managed somehow to catch him.
Maria screamed, and then chaos erupted.
Chapter 28
“I demand to know what I said to cause that much trouble!”
Sophie held a smelly piece of meat to Jack’s jaw. His jaw was throbbing and the odor was nauseating him.
Randall and Pete both sported their own bruises, but none as bad as Jack’s.
“Let’s just drop it, Sophia,” Jack persisted. “Jose apologized after I explained what you really meant. Let’s just drop it, all right?”
He didn’t really want to tell her that she’d accused the man of having no balls.
Her timing couldn’t have been worse. Jack had been in the middle of explaining to Jose that most of his other guides had abandoned him long before they’d reached the ruins—that the snakes hadn’t gotten to them, superstition had. Sophie’s question had come as an unwelcome punctuation to his own. He’d gotten desperate and had just asked Jose if he’d lost his nerve—and that after Jose had heard Jack tell Sophie how to say huevos... a very strange homonym for both eggs and the male scrotum. Jack could definitely see the connection, but he’d be damned if he would ever understand how the two were used interchangeably. Sophie couldn’t have known.
“It was my fault, Jack, and I have every right to know what I said to cause such an uproar! I only asked him if he had eggs! He had no right to hit you like that!”
Jack groaned and pressed the meat more firmly to his aching face. “Sophia,” he begged her. “Please ...”
“Well, if you won’t tell me, I’ll just have to ask someone else,” she said stubbornly, and turned to Kell.
Kell’s brows lifted and he looked pleadingly at Jack. Randall and Pete continued to look away. They’d explained everything to Kell well away from Sophie’s earshot, and for once Kell was keeping his good humor to himself.
“The odor of this meat is almost as hideous as the bruise swelling on your face!” she declared.
Jack was grateful for the momentary change in topic—even if the diversion was minuscule.
He nodded in agreement. “Can’t blame the man for not offering a better piece, considering.”
“I paid for it!” Sophie complained. “It wasn’t any of his business whether I intended to eat it or bury it!”
She was definitely a spitfire.
A beautiful one at that.
Jack tried to smile up at her, but couldn’t quite manage.
“Did Jack ever get you your huevos, Sophie?” Kell asked suddenly, trying to sound casual.
Jack glared up at Kell, curbing his tongue, though not easily.
“Yes,” Sophie answered, frowning down at Jack. “I have the eggs.” She gave him a beautiful pout.
Jack smiled to himself.
“I suppose I’ll go start breakfast!” she said, obviously displeased with him. She spun on her heels and sighed as she left them, and Jack’s smile turned crooked as he peered up at Kell.
She had her eggs all right, along with a deuced ton of hot peppers. He hoped Kell would have smoke steaming from his ass when she was through. For himself, he intended to stick to the bread. He tossed the meat away with a grimace.
“Give it to the dog!” he demanded irascibly, and looked up at Randall. The smell was making him sick.
“What dog?” Randall asked.
“Find one,” Jack replied curtly.
Randall’s eyes widened in understanding, and he bent to pick up the offensive slab of meat at once. He hauled it away, much to Jack’s relief.
Kell’s grin was annoying. “So you managed to get Jose to guide us, after all?”
“Yeah,’ Jack said, as he watched Sophie work at a distance.
Pete had followed her and was helping her set up a small camp fire. He was explaining to her how to cook over the open fire with the frying pan she’d insisted on bringing.
She didn’t even seem to realize how in tune to her Jack was. He couldn’t get enough of her. Couldn’t seem to keep his mind even on his work.
“How’d you manage that?”
“Thank Sophie’s money. Guess it’s true everyone has his price.”
“Sure they do,” Kell agreed. “Including you,” he added with a deliberate nod.
Jack’s gaze snapped up to meet Kell’s. His brows collided. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Kell shook his head. “You figure it out Jack. She’s paying you to deliver her to Penn, isn’t she? And you’re doing it. Why? Because she paid you?”
“No, I could care less about the money.” Jack’s shoulders slumped. “I’m doing it because it’s what she wants.”
“Yeah? And how do you know what she wants, Jack? Have you asked her lately?”
Jack didn’t answer.
He didn’t have to ask her.
When a woman couldn’t leave without dragging a damned picture of her fiancé around with her, it didn’t take much to deduce that she had told him the truth to begin with... that she did miss the bugger. Her mood, until the egg incident, had vastly improved since getting off the ship. It was obvious to Jack that she couldn’t wait to see Harlan.
It needled him.
Who was he kidding?
It fucking hurt.
He was almost grateful for the pain in his face because it reflected the one growing in his chest... that aching feeling of loss even before she was gone.
Hadn’t what happened between them meant anything at all to her?
How could she sit there humming so cheerily over the damned frying pan?
She had paid him—and very well—to do a job, and it was nearly done. Then he could go on with his own work far more comfortably after she was gone.
So why was he feeling as though he’d lost his best friend? Why did he suddenly feel like handing everything over to Penn and just throwing up his hands and going home?
“What’s your price, Jack?” Kell asked enigmatically, then walked away.
Jack turned and glared at his back as he went, and questioned how much his life would be worth if he couldn’t wake up and face the day... if he had to go to sleep at night wondering what might have been...
To Love a Lord: A Victorian Romance Collection Page 49