Hired Husband

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Hired Husband Page 16

by Rebecca Brandewyne


  “Jake and Sterling are right, Caro. This so-called nervous upset is just totally out of character for your grandmother,” Nick insisted, patting her hand comfortingly, knowing how anxious she was about Kate’s welfare. “I think one or more of us ought to drive over to her house this morning—and refuse to leave until we get some answers.”

  “My sentiments precisely.” Jake nodded vigorously. “Mother’s up to something. I’d stake my life on it! God,” Jake groaned. “I hope she hasn’t gone off on some wild tangent to catch the intruder. I wouldn’t put it past her to be on the streets of Minneapolis right this very minute, disguised as a bag lady and pushing a shopping cart or something, questioning everybody she thinks even remotely resembles a snitch for the police!”

  The reality was far worse, the four discovered, once they had driven over to Kate’s house and finally managed to badger Mrs. Brant into admitting them.

  “The Amazon!” Sterling cried, stricken at the news of Kate’s whereabouts and abruptly sitting down on a chair, as though his legs had given out from under him.

  “What do you mean Mother’s traipsed off to the Amazon jungle?” Jake demanded angrily, distressed. “Why on earth would she have Bucky fly her down there in the corporate jet?” Bucky was Fortune Cosmetics’ primary private pilot.

  “Bucky didn’t fly her, Mr. Jake. Miss Kate flew herself,” Mrs. Brant announced reluctantly, knowing the further consternation this information would engender. “Believe me, I was against this trip from the very start. I did all I could to convince Miss Kate not to go. But you know how she is when she is determined on something. There was no stopping her. She was most upset by the break-in and decided she could no longer wait on Dr. Valkov to complete all his tests for the secret youth formula. She also thought that to send a team down to the Amazon rain forest would only attract unnecessary attention to Fortune Cosmetics, perhaps causing Fabulous Face to be revealed to the entire industry before it is ready for unveiling.”

  “So she took matters into her own hands,” Nick said grimly. “Of all the foolhardy notions Kate has ever had since I’ve known her, this is the worst. We don’t even know whether the maiden flower truly exists. I don’t want to alarm anyone further, but the truth is that she may have gone off on a wild-goose chase and placed herself in unknown peril by her actions.”

  “What do you mean, Nick?” Caroline’s face was pale with anxiety. She had been sick earlier this morning and still wasn’t feeling particularly well—a delayed reaction to all that had occurred at Fortune Cosmetics the other night, she thought.

  “Sweetheart, since the intruder managed to escape the other night, we don’t really know who or what is behind these attacks on me and Fortune Cosmetics. So we also don’t know who or what their ultimate goal may be. We can theorize that it’s the secret youth formula, but we can’t be sure. It could be Kate. Further, not all the South American Indian tribes are friendly. In the past, their warlike activities have run the gamut—everything from blow darts dipped in frog venom to arrows poisoned with curare. Caro, umpteen people have gone into the Amazon jungle and never come out again. An expedition like this needed to be planned and put together very carefully—not some half-baked trek arranged in a few days,” Nick asserted.

  “One of us will have to catch a commercial flight down to South America.” That Jake was extremely upset was plain. “Sterling, I think you should be the one to go. As much as I’m worried about Mother, she would never forgive me if I went off and left Fortune Cosmetics at the moment, before I’ve got all the new security measures into place.”

  “I agree.” Turning to Mrs. Brant, Sterling instructed her to call the airlines and book a flight for one to Rio de Janeiro as soon as possible. “I do have to tell you all, however, that I’m not sure how much good my going down there will do, whether or not I can pick up Kate’s trail. She could be anywhere by now.”

  “Yes, that’s true,” Nick stated thoughtfully. “While you’re on the phone to the airport, find out if Kate filed a flight plan. If she did, then we’ll at least have some idea of her destination.”

  “Oh, that’s a good idea, Nick,” Caroline said, unaware of how she instinctively reached for her husband’s hand, seeking comfort.

  The past few days had seen her love for him deepen and grow even stronger. He had stepped into her family as easily as though he had always belonged, had been a part of it. And he had handled the break-in and fire in the laboratory with the ease and authority of one long accustomed to command. Now his concern for Kate’s well-being was evident, and his analysis of the situation and the suggestions he had made were intelligent. She knew he had earned both her father’s and Sterling’s respect and admiration—something Paul Andersen had never managed to accomplish.

  “Well, I guess that’s all we can do here for now, so we’d better get back to the office.” Jake rubbed his temples, as though he had begun to suffer a headache. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what I think of your conduct in this matter, Mrs. Brant. I know how loyal you are to my mother, but in this instance, you should have called me.”

  “Yes, Mr. Jake. Perhaps you are right,” the housekeeper concurred gravely. “If anything should happen to Miss Kate because I did not, I will never forgive myself.”

  The vast Amazon rain forest spread out beneath her in myriad shades of green bisected by the enormous, muddy river that shared the jungle’s name. It was an awesome, breathtaking sight, Kate thought as she gazed out the windows of the Fortune corporate jet.

  She had not pushed herself on the trip. Instead, she had made the long flight in easy stages, telling herself it was the only sensible thing to do. Even now, she didn’t want to admit to herself that perhaps Mrs. Brant had been right—that she wasn’t as young as she used to be.

  Regardless, she was here now, and that was what counted. She would set the plane down at the airport in Rio de Janeiro, then go about putting together her expedition. Once the plans for it were finalized, she would cable Jake and Sterling. But such was her enthusiasm for this venture, the idea that at long last, Fabulous Face was truly about to become a reality, that Kate hadn’t been able to resist making a quick swing over the Amazon rain forest itself first.

  Confident in her security, Kate had not bothered to check the jet’s interior this morning, however. So she was unaware that during the night, a hijacker had crept aboard and concealed himself at the rear of the plane. Nor was she at first cognizant of his presence as he now sneaked from his hiding place to make his way to the cockpit.

  Before Kate knew what was happening, the stowaway had the muzzle of his automatic pistol jammed painfully against her temple.

  “Now, listen to me very carefully, you old bat,” he rasped in a hard, cold voice that sent a chill down her spine. “Because your life depends on you doing exactly what I tell you. Do you understand?”

  Swallowing hard, Kate nodded mutely, determinedly reining in her fear. This must be the man who had broken into Fortune Cosmetics and set fire to the laboratory, she speculated, the man who had attempted to steal the formula for Fabulous Face. How he had got aboard, she didn’t know. But one thing was for certain—he wasn’t going to get the best of her, no matter what! She might be elderly, but she wasn’t dead. In fact, Kate thought, her age might actually work to her advantage, as doubtless the man believed her to be frail and helpless. Well, he would soon learn his mistake!

  “I want you to look around out here and find a place where you can safely land this jet,” he instructed her.

  “And just where do you suggest I search for such a strip?” she asked tartly. “You can see for yourself that there’s very little open ground below, especially a patch large enough to handle a small corporate jet like this. I’m not flying a Piper Cub here, you know.”

  The gun muzzle jabbed into her skull warningly. “I’ve never liked redheads. So don’t get smart with me, or I’ll blow your damned fool head off!” the hijacker growled. “Now, land this plane, damn you!”

 
“Very well,” Kate agreed stiffly. “That looks to be a road down there, where the natives have been slashing and burning the rain forest. I’ll try to set us down there. But don’t blame me if something goes wrong. This isn’t a drug-running-type plane, which can land practically anywhere, and I’m not that kind of daredevil pilot, either.”

  “Just get us down, you old hag!” the stowaway spat out curtly.

  Wordlessly, Kate maneuvered the controls of the jet so it began to descend. All the while, the wheels of her brain churned furiously. Doubtless the hijacker couldn’t fly a plane. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have needed her alive to land it. But once they were down, she might no longer be of any use to him—and even if she were, there wasn’t any telling what he intended to do with her. She envisioned all sorts of horrors—the worst of which was being kept drugged and helpless so that she eventually degenerated into a senile old woman.

  Kate decided she would rather be dead, and as the jet leveled out and started to touch down, she abruptly knocked the gun from the hijacker’s grasp and, bolting from her seat, attempted to push past him. The plane bumped on the rough road—which was no more than a track, really—and bounced up again. The wings began to rock wildly, the motor to strain and whine ominously. The jet was out of control, but there was nothing Kate could do to stop it as she struggled frantically with the stowaway.

  The pistol skidded across the floor of the plane, as did Kate and the hijacker. But he was younger, stronger. Catching hold of a seat, he hauled himself upright, diving for his gun. In moments, he had it pointed straight at her, and she knew he was going to shoot her. It was the last coherent thought she had before the crazy motion of the jet threw her against the door. At the impact, the door flew open without warning, and she was flung out violently.

  She struck the ground, rolling over and over, feeling a sudden, sharp pain in her hip, which left her gasping and moaning. Seconds later, a giant flash blinded her as one of the wings of the plane was ripped off by a row of trees. The jet seemed to cartwheel dementedly, then it exploded, the blast deafening her and spewing debris in every direction. Something hit Kate in the head—she never knew what—and then a great cloud of blackness swirled up to engulf her.

  The natives who witnessed the plane crash and found Kate’s unconscious body were friendly and skilled in medicine. Laying her upon a makeshift stretcher, they carried her away to their village deep in the Amazon jungle.

  Nineteen

  “Caroline sweetheart, what is it? What’s wrong?” Nick asked with concern as, hearing her suddenly cry out, then burst into tears, he rushed into the kitchen of their house at the lake.

  Her hand trembled as she replaced the telephone receiver in its cradle, and tears streamed down her face. Blindly, she moved into the circle of his arms. “Oh, Nick! Nick!” she sobbed. “Grandmother’s…dead!”

  “Dead? No, that can’t be! Are you—are you sure, Caro?”

  “Yes, that was Dad on the—on the phone. Sterling called…from South America. They’ve located the corporate jet. Grandmother must have—must have…developed engine trouble or something, because she was trying to—to land in the jungle. Oh, Nick, she—she crashed, and the—the plane exploded! They found her…body amid all the wreckage—or at least, what’s left of it. Sterling said she—she was burned…you know, beyond recognition. Oh, Nick!”

  “Hush, baby. Hush, now. Sweetheart, I am so sorry…so very sorry. I know how much you loved your grandmother. Here, why don’t I take you upstairs so you can lie down, and then I’ll fix you a drink or something.”

  Numbly, Caroline started from the kitchen. But she was crying so hard that she couldn’t see where she was going and stumbled. At that, wordlessly, Nick swept her up in his arms and carried her up the steps to his bedroom, where he laid her down on the massive canopy bed. He drew the curtains against the sun that daily grew brighter as the long winter melted into spring. Then, striding into the bathroom, he wet a washcloth and, after wringing it out, returned to place it upon Caroline’s forehead. From the tea wagon in one corner of the room, he poured her a small snifter of brandy, insisting she drink it down. After that, he lay down beside her, gathering her into his embrace and massaging her head soothingly until, at long last, she finally drifted into slumber.

  As Nick gazed down at his sleeping wife, his brow knitted anxiously. She had not really been well since the night of the break-in. And although she hadn’t yet said anything to him, he suspected she was pregnant. He speculated that her birth control methods must have failed her and that the reason she hadn’t told him was because she didn’t want his baby or planned to leave him. And Nick would be damned before he would let that happen. If, to prevent it, he had to hogtie his wife and sit on her for the next nine months, he would.

  Then his thoughts abruptly turned to Kate Fortune. He couldn’t believe she was gone, that she hadn’t somehow cheated death—she had been so vibrant, so indomitable. But there was no reason, he supposed, to doubt the identification of the body since there hadn’t been anyone aboard the corporate jet with her. He wondered if the plane, as it appeared to have experienced some kind of mechanical failure, had been sabotaged. Undoubtedly, the same notion had occurred to Sterling, and he would be checking it out.

  Realistically, there was nothing Nick could do to help from this end, other than to keep Caroline safe. His arms tightened around her. He would kill anybody who attempted to hurt her or their baby, he thought determinedly.

  It seemed to Caroline that practically everything since the start of the new year had gone totally wrong—beginning with the INS’s attempt to deport Nick. Now, hard on the heels of the news of her grandmother’s death had come another letter from the INS, sternly insisting that she and Nick report to the local INS office for a formal interview and investigation into their marriage.

  “What are we going to do, Nick?” she asked after he had read the missive to her.

  “I don’t see what else we can do, sweetheart, but keep the appointment,” he replied soberly. “I mean, it’s not as though either of us can afford to go into hiding. Besides which, if I actually did do something like run away, the INS would see to it that I never became a legal citizen of the United States. But there’s no need for you to worry, Caro. The INS can’t prove that our marriage is anything other than genuine. However, I’m afraid this does mean that we won’t be able to get a divorce anytime soon.” In fact, not ever—if I have anything to say about it! Nick thought grimly, although he didn’t speak the words aloud.

  “I’m…sorry,” Caroline said quietly, biting her lower lip, anguished by the thought that he must be eager for them to be quit of each other. “I—I know how upsetting that must be to you, how—how much you must long to have your freedom back.”

  “No doubt, you feel the same,” Nick answered stiffly, hurt and angered by the fact that he appeared to mean little or nothing to his wife, despite the fact that he had shared her bed and that she was doubtless carrying his child.

  “Well, it isn’t as though we ever believed our marriage were going to last forever.” She pointed this fact out listlessly, turning away so he wouldn’t see the tears that stung her eyes.

  “No, it isn’t,” he agreed—but he spoke to an empty room. Caroline had abruptly left the kitchen and run upstairs to her bedroom.

  Resolutely, Nick strode up the stairs after her. But she had gone into her bathroom, locked the door behind her and turned on the shower, so she couldn’t hear him knocking, he thought. He didn’t know she was running the water only to conceal the sound of her sobbing. He was beside himself, desperate to save his marriage, to hold on to the woman he loved. He glanced around the bedroom she had chosen as her own. It was part of the problem, he decided furiously. Without even thinking, he ripped open the closet door and began to yank her clothes from inside.

  When Caroline reappeared sometime later, it was to find her bedroom in total disarray, her closet empty, drawers open, her garments scattered all over the place.

&
nbsp; “Nick, what are you doing?” she cried, stunned.

  “You can’t go on living in this bedroom,” he insisted as he gathered up another armful of her clothes to take them into his own room. “What if the INS decides to pay us a surprise visit? If they find out we have separate bedrooms, they won’t believe anything we tell them. Do you want that to happen?”

  “N-n-no, of course not.” Caroline’s heart hammered painfully in her breast. Did he intend for her to move permanently into his bed, too? she wondered.

  She received her answer later that evening, when she and Nick went upstairs to retire. As she turned to head down the hall to her own bedroom, he grabbed her hand without warning and inexorably pulled her back, asking, “Where do you think you’re going, baby?”

  “To—to bed,” she stammered nervously, both frightened and excited by the expression on her husband’s bronzed visage as his glittering dark eyes raked her intently.

  “Yes, you are going to bed, Caro. But not in there. Not anymore,” he drawled, but a note of unmistakable steel underlay the silk of his low voice. Then, as though fearing she meant to protest, to argue with him, he abruptly caught her up in his arms and carried her down the hall to his own room.

  Caroline’s pulse raced wildly as she clung tightly to his neck. She felt like a captive of old being borne away by a handsome, determined Cossack, that Nick’s Old World tendencies had somehow at last got the best of him, that he intended to ravish her. The thought was both scary and thrilling as he tossed her down onto his bed in the darkness illuminated only by the silvery moonlight streaming in through the windows, whose curtains were open. Then he deliberately closed the bedroom door and locked it.

 

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