Her first call was to Alberto. It went to voicemail.
‘Problem?’ Felipe asked from the driver’s seat when she cursed under her breath, adopting the same grim tone he’d used since he’d left her suite that morning.
Clearly his regret of their relations meant he was now determined to keep his distance as much as the situation allowed. Today he’d left it to Seb to stand at her side as principal protection but had still been close enough to listen in on every conversation, close enough to ward off any perceived threat that might come her way.
Not once had he met her eye.
In a way she was grateful for his distance as it had allowed her to concentrate on what needed doing.
‘I’ve been trying to get hold of Alberto to arrange for the cash to be sent over in time for the Governor’s party,’ she explained. ‘He’ll know what to do about the bribe too without getting the foundation into trouble but he’s not answering his phone.’
Until everything was sorted out with Pieta’s estate and businesses, Alberto controlled the finances for the foundation. When she’d spoken to him at Pieta’s funeral he’d assured her he would sign off the funds when a deal was brokered.
‘It’s already in hand,’ Felipe informed her. ‘My men will transport it. The money arrives in Aguadilla on Saturday.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘I made the arrangements.’
‘What? When?’
‘Yesterday.’
‘But... How...? Why?’ She couldn’t get a coherent question to form.
‘I decided the best way to get you out of the mess you’d got yourself into was to sort it out myself before you dragged yourself in deeper.’
It took a long time for Francesca to find her voice. ‘This has nothing to do with you. You’re here as my protection...’
‘Exactly. A young woman with a suitcase of cash? Four hundred thousand dollars is a fortune to the people of Caballeros. You’ll be a magnet for every thief out there and you’re already a target.’
‘How’s anyone going to know about the money?’ she protested. ‘It’s a private transaction between myself and the Governor.’
‘A private transaction—or bribe—agreed in a residence I warned you was filled with cameras recording every word you said. This is damage limitation. The cash for the site will be paid in full from the foundation but the bribe money will come from a different source. There will be no trail leading it to you or your brother’s foundation.’
‘You’ve done all this? The damage limitation?’
‘Yes. Don’t ask me how. I have no wish to lie to you.’
Francesca clenched her hands into fists and forced herself to breathe. She knew she should be grateful to him for saving her from herself, not wanting to bash him over the head with her handbag.
‘I thank you for thinking of my career.’ She spoke carefully, struggling for breath. ‘But don’t ever go over my head like that again. If anything else occurs, speak to me before acting.’
‘If you’d been thinking clearly in the first place I wouldn’t have had to go over your head.’
‘That was then,’ she contested tightly. ‘What happened to drawing a line under it all? I made one mistake...’
‘My actions prevented you making another.’
‘I made one mistake that I’m doing my best not to repeat and it’s not fair to keep throwing it in my face. Have you never made a mistake? Or were you born perfect?’
He didn’t answer.
They drove the rest of the route back to the hotel in silence and went to their respective suites without a further word.
CHAPTER SEVEN
FRANCESCA CLOSED THE folder sprawled on her lap with a sigh and rubbed her eyes. It was gone midnight. She’d been in her suite since their return to the hotel, having another re-read of the foundation’s files. She wished she’d brought some of the case files she was supposed to be studying for her traineeship with her, could kick herself for not even thinking about it. When she returned home to Pisa she would get her head down and get stuck back into her studies.
In the hours spent reading, she’d ordered room service and drunk nothing stronger than black coffee but even all the caffeine couldn’t stop the heaviness of her eyes. All those Tequila Sunrises from the night before had finally caught up with her. She was exhausted.
She really needed to get some sleep but was terrified of closing her eyes, wondered if there was some magic pill out there that guaranteed a dreamless sleep.
Her thoughts, as always, drifted back to Felipe. As the night had gone on her fury at his high-handed behaviour had slowly evaporated.
She wondered where he was. Had he left his suite that evening or stayed in as she had done? The hotel’s walls were so solid that no sound penetrated.
On impulse she leaned over, picked up the telephone receiver from the bedside table and dialled his room number.
He answered on the second ring. ‘Yes?’
‘It’s me. Francesca Pellegrini.’
She pulled a disgusted face at herself. Why did she give him her surname?
There was a small pause before he said, a slight tinge of amusement in his voice, ‘What can I do for you, Francesca Pellegrini?’
His words sounded like a caress. He really had the dreamiest of voices.
‘I wanted to say thank you...for digging me out of the hole I’d put myself and the foundation in...and...and...’ She forced the word out. ‘Sorry...for being so ungrateful about it.’
‘Apology accepted.’
‘Just like that?’
‘Just like that.’
‘You don’t want me to crawl over broken glass to show my penitence?’
A low rumble of laughter blew into her ear and curled its way down her spine. ‘An apology is enough. I’m not without blame. You weren’t being ungrateful. You were right to be angry with me. I should have consulted with you before I went ahead with my plans.’
‘Why didn’t you?’
‘I was angry with you and the whole situation. I thought you’d behaved insanely.’
‘I did behave insanely,’ she conceded. ‘Do you normally try and fix the holes your clients dig for themselves?’
A small pause. ‘No.’
‘Do you often get angry with your clients?’
Another small pause. ‘No. It’s not my place to get angry with them or fix their problems. I’m paid to protect them, not have an opinion.’
His confession made the most wonderful warmth spread through her. She pulled her knees up and curled against the headboard and murmured, ‘I must be special then.’
Another rumble of laughter. ‘That is one way to describe you.’
‘Am I the most annoying client you’ve ever had?’
‘You’re the most challenging,’ he answered drily.
‘I’ve always been challenging.’
‘I’ll bet.’
A silence formed.
‘It’s late. I should let you go,’ she said, breaking it. But she didn’t want to let him go. She wanted to have that glorious voice speak into her ear all night. A thought occurred to her. ‘Did I wake you?’
‘I’m watching a film in bed.’
‘Is it any good?’
‘It’s bad enough to remind me why I hate television.’
‘You can’t hate television,’ she said, feigning outrage.
He groaned. ‘Don’t tell me you’re one of those television addicts?’
‘I love television,’ she informed him gleefully. ‘If I was put on a desert island and only allowed to take one thing that would be it.’
‘You’re a heathen.’
‘A heathen with a large collection of box sets.’
His laughter rum
bled down the line again, warming her from her lobes all the way down to her toes.
To think Felipe was lying in his bed too...
‘Did you go anywhere for dinner?’ she asked.
‘I had room service in my suite.’
‘So did I.’
‘What did you have?’
‘Jambalaya. You?’
‘The same.’
There was no reasonable answer as to why Felipe independently eating the same meal as her should make her glow.
Another silence formed, this time broken by Felipe. ‘We should get some sleep.’
‘I’m not tired.’ A lie. She was exhausted. But speaking to Felipe had recharged her. She wanted more than a conversation down the phone. The easiness of their talk, the subtle undertones racing beneath it propelled her to say, ‘Do you want to come to my suite for a nightcap?’
There was another prolonged pause with time enough to make her heart expand with anticipation.
‘Goodnight, Francesca,’ he eventually said in such a gentle tone her heart flipped over on itself and her unanswered offer didn’t sting as much as it should.
She hugged the receiver to her chest for a long time after he’d hung up.
* * *
When Felipe strode into the hotel lobby the next morning, the first person he saw was Francesca, sitting on a sofa with her legs elegantly crossed, reading a newspaper.
As if she had a sixth sense to his presence, she tilted her head and immediately fixed her gaze on him. Her lips curved into a smile that made his chest compress.
He nodded a greeting in return.
He’d given himself a sharp talking to that morning, reminding himself of all the reasons he needed to keep his distance from this mesmeric woman. He’d put the phone down after their late-night conversation with an ache in his groin that had still been there when he’d woken.
Her call had caught him off guard. Her husky voice had played down the line, into his ear and into his veins before he could put the mental blocks in place to deflect it.
Her apology had taken him off guard too. Francesca was not a woman who found apologies easy.
That he knew such a thing about her disturbed him on many different levels but nowhere near as disturbing as the strength it had taken to refuse her suggestive offer of a nightcap. He hadn’t been able to refuse in words, not when his tongue had been clamouring with the rest of his body to say yes.
He should have ended the call after she’d made her apology, not allowed that husky voice draw him into further, more intimate conversation.
They had five more days left together and in one respect he was glad they would now be able to get through it without a wishing well full of antagonism between them.
He could laugh at his optimism. He’d only known her a short time but knew perfectly well Francesca was not a woman one could expect to have an easy life with, not even for five short days. Everything she did, she did with passion. Everything she felt was with passion.
He’d felt that passion for himself and, Dios, he craved to feel it again.
He’d never met anyone like her. He’d never desired anyone as he did her. He’d never become aroused at a voice before.
He’d had to force himself to say goodnight.
‘Ready to go?’ he said briskly. He would not allow the spell they’d fallen into during their late-night call seep into the job in hand.
It had been one phone call, he told himself irritably. They’d hardly shared a naked sauna together.
But, naturally, his thoughts immediately turned to the image permanently lodged in his retinas of her sunbathing in that tiny yellow bikini.
Thankfully, today she was fully covered in a simple blue knee-length dress, black fitted jacket and black heels, her dark hair plaited and coiled. She looked ready to step into a courtroom. She also looked as sexy as a siren.
Her light brown eyes widened a little at his tone but her poise remained. ‘I’m ready when you are.’
They collected Seb and James at their lodgings and then drove onto the airport, keeping conversation light and professional. If not for the gleam in her eyes every time she looked at him he could believe he’d mistaken the sensual undertone in her nightcap offer. But the gleam shone brightly. She shone brightly even though she was more together and composed than he had ever seen her.
When she met with the official in charge of the island’s medical service, who in turn expected his own bribe, he was impressed with the way she used a combination of facts, charm and intelligence to deflect him and get him to agree to naming a wing of the hospital after him in lieu of a backhander.
‘Weren’t you tempted to use that technique when dealing with the Governor?’ he asked on the drive back to the airport.
She shook her head and pulled her lips together ruefully. ‘I wish that meeting could be scrubbed away so I could pretend it never happened. I was so excited to get his agreement that, frankly, if he’d asked me to serve him the moon on a dish I would have accepted. I didn’t think the ramifications through clearly. I should have been a lot more prepared.’
He admired her ability not to pull punches at her own faults. The more he observed her, the more he found to admire, from her professionalism to that inherent zest for life she carried with her. ‘You didn’t make the same mistake this time.’
She met his eye and her lips curved. ‘I make it a point to learn from my mistakes, not repeat them.’
That was so close to his own personal beliefs that for a moment he was tempted to pull her to him...
Ever since those crazy, heady few minutes in her suite he’d done his damnedest not to think of it, not to remember the sweet heat of her passionate kisses or the softness of her lips and silkiness of her skin. It was the cry of surprise she’d made when she’d come with virtually one touch that he couldn’t eradicate. Remembering that sound made his every sinew tighten.
He knew he could never make the mistake of being alone in a room with her again.
‘Boss?’
James’s voice broke into his thoughts. They’d pulled into Caballeros airport where the pilot was waiting for them. ‘Yes?’
‘See that black Mondeo?’
Felipe followed his gaze. Roughly ten metres away from their Cessna sat the car that had followed them from the Governor’s house three days ago.
He thought quickly as he scanned their surroundings.
‘Stay here,’ he told Francesca before getting out of the car. Seb and James, who’d already recognised the danger and armed themselves, didn’t need to be told to stay with her or to keep the engine running.
Gun in hand, keeping the black car in his eyeline, he strolled with deceptive casualness to the Cessna. If this was an ambush he wouldn’t have Francesca caught in any crossfire.
‘How long has that Mondeo been there?’ he asked his man who he’d left with the pilot.
‘Three hours. Three men.’
‘Any activity?’
‘None. I’ve run a trace on the licence plate but you know what this island’s like—even before the hurricane I doubt I’d have got any information from it. We’re working on facial recognition as we speak.’
Felipe nodded grimly and said to the pilot, ‘Get ready to leave.’
The small plane’s engine was switched on before his feet hit the tarmac and he was heading back to Francesca.
‘What’s going on?’ she asked when he opened the car door. ‘Is it the men who were following us before?’
‘It appears so.’ He held out his hand, preparing to throw her over his shoulder if she gave any resistance. ‘Time to move.’
He gave her credit. She didn’t hesitate or demand more answers. Her eyes held his—he could almost read her thoughts, Francesca saying ‘Okay, I’m trusting you here,’—
and she took his hand and held it tightly on the quick march back to the plane, James flanking her other side, Seb bringing up the rear.
Only when they were seated, their belts hardly buckled before the pilot had them airborne, did she quietly say, ‘I assume those men mean trouble.’
‘I have to assume that too.’
She nodded slowly. ‘Them being at the airport can’t be a coincidence. What do you think they want?’
‘That’s the million dollar question.’ A question he’d give one of his kidneys to answer.
She didn’t speak for the longest time. ‘Do you think they know about the money?’
‘I would put my savings on it.’ He wiped perspiration from his brow. He already knew what he would have to do.
Unbuckling himself, he moved to the front of the plane to share his thoughts with his men.
He waited until they arrived at James and Seb’s lodgings and the two men had got out of the car before sharing it with Francesca. She’d proved remarkably stoical about the situation. He must have made a dozen phone calls and she’d sat quietly beside him, not interrupting, not talking, letting him get on with what he needed to do.
‘James and Seb are getting their gear together. They’re coming with us.’
‘To our hotel?’
‘I’ve also arranged for three of my men staying in Caballeros to fly here. Between them they’ll cover all entry points to the hotel and keep watch.’ Now that the threat against Francesca was unequivocal he would not trust her safety in the hotel to the security guards. Guards could be bribed. His men could not. His men wouldn’t miss anything.
The face she pulled was sceptical. ‘You think those men at the airport are going to come here?’
‘I don’t know what those men are going to do so I’m preparing for any eventuality.’
‘Aguadilla has really tight security. Our hotel has really tight security. They haven’t got a hope of getting to us.’
‘You may be right but I’m not taking any risks.’ He wasn’t prepared to leave anything to chance. Security at Aguadilla airport was as tight as any in the US or Europe, its waters heavily patrolled. In theory Francesca should be safe for as long as she remained in Aguadilla. In theory.
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