More people moved out onto the lawn and Doug glanced at his watch. "Jordan, I don't have much time. Doug will come looking for me soon."
His breath blew heavy against the receiver. "Damn. Sorry. I promised myself I wouldn't make the same mistakes, but this is hard. Just promise you'll come home to me."
"I want to come home right now. I don't want to stay another week."
"We both know it's not that easy and I can't risk jeopardizing the ninety-day hold, making you….his."
Doug waved to me from the yard and started for the house. I had to calm down or he'd get suspicious if he saw me upset. "Shoot! He's coming. I better say goodbye and pull myself together."
"Call me the minute you leave Italy and I'll meet you in New York. We'll shop for whatever you need before heading for the island."
"There's a suitcase already packed upstairs in my closet. A part of me hoped things would work out and I could still come."
"And the other part?"
"Very warm and tingly at the moment."
Jordan laughed—a sound I wished I could record and play back every private second between now and next weekend.
Doug's footsteps echoed on the wood planked hallway. I dropped my voice to a whisper. "I'll see you in a week. Meanwhile, take care of my heart. Love you."
Most of the candles had burnt out inside the lanterns. Music played softly from the patio speakers. Cloaked in darkness, Doug and I swayed to the melody in our bare feet on the lawn.
"Marli? Where have you gone?" Doug quietly asked. "You've become distant. Did I do something?"
I pulled my head from where it lay on his chest and stared into his worried eyes, "No. You've been the perfect gentleman."
"I don't want to be the perfect gentleman in your life, Marli. I want to be more."
We stood completely still in the damp grass next to the black water of the pool. The echo of dishes clinking caught my attention. Jan paused on the patio, holding a stack of plates, peering into the darkness as if she could see my eyes. What she said earlier struck a chord inside me, loud enough it finally got my attention. Time for the truth.
Taking his hand, I led him to a stone bench beside the pool.
"Oh this can't be good," he half-laughed.
I kept his hand tucked tightly in mine, taking one of many big breaths before meeting his anxious eyes. "Doug, this afternoon I wanted you with every beat of my heart, but for all the wrong reasons. I wanted to punish Jordan and surrendering my virginity to you, not him, seemed the cruelest way."
I couldn't have been colder.
"It always comes back to Jordan, doesn't it? Was it really him on my cell receptor tonight? Not your dad? Please, don't stop with the brutal honesty now, Marli."
"Okay, I deserved that. But you need to know something. When I came to Italy, I was only with you, no one else. I've been committed to you this whole time."
"Because you had no choice."
"That's not true! Jordan and I did break up. Tonight's call surprised me. I had no idea he was at my house. And honestly, if my dad had told me, I'd probably have hung up, which is why he concocted some story."
"I think you know how I feel about you, Marli, and this afternoon in your arms, I thought you felt the same way."
Pangs of guilt needled. "I'm really sorry. Don't hate me," I begged quietly.
"I could never hate you. You're being honest—something I haven't been."
A shiver of anxiousness crept up my spine. "What do you mean?"
"Marli…" he hesitated, "I pushed things today for a reason. I hoped we'd have sex and you'd stay with me, even if only to keep what we did secret. I thought, in time, you'd forget Mason. I realize now, that's never happening."
"Wow. Talk about manipulation." I decided I had to ask about the pictures, even if it exposed my eavesdropping escapade.
"Doug, can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
"Did your dad have someone take pictures of me and Jordan's brother?" Doug's brow twisted tight and he pulled his hand away. "I overheard part of your conversation this afternoon. When I came downstairs, I heard yelling and went searching for you."
"How much did you hear?"
"Enough to know you're under a lot of pressure…and your dad wants me as your assignee."
Doug stared out at the pool stretched into a black ribbon across the grass. No one lingered on the patio, the speakers off, leaving us in a sudden, screaming silence. After a couple of audible gulps offering stiff competition with the frogs, he spoke, his voice soft, but the tone edged in steel.
"I didn't know about the pictures until this afternoon. I hate that my father's obsession caused you heartache. In fact, I'm disgusted with myself for hoping it worked—you and Mason finally over, and you free…for me."
"The pictures aren't what broke Jordan and me apart. It was his need to control me, which is exactly what you and your father are trying to do. I know when I made the decision to stay in The Program I'd surrender some freedom, but I won't tolerate deception. Trust is too important to me, and I can't be with someone who isn't honest.
"I don't understand or want to know why your father is involved in my personal life, but you need to give him a message for me. Love can't be controlled. Regardless of who becomes my life partner, Jordan will own my heart. I'm always going to love him."
Doug turned his palm up on his knee and after a second of hesitation, I laid mine over the top, braiding my fingers into his. A deep sigh eased out and he covered our folded hands with his other one in a protective cocoon.
"I told you in Alaska I wanted to claim you, but after spending this week with you, I could never force you into a loveless relationship. I respect you too much." Doug lifted my chin, "I feel sorry for Mason's brother. He'll live every day knowing you're with Jordan in every way he can't be. I can't imagine that kind of pain."
Doug pulled me to my feet. He asked if I wanted to stay and I confessed I wanted to go home. I knew I'd only be thinking about Jordan and that wasn't fair to him. He agreed to take me to Florence in the morning so I could catch a flight to Rome. To avoid any embarrassing moments with his family, we made a plan to sneak away under the pretext of going somewhere to watch the sunrise. He made some major points on the chivalry scale because I knew the fallout he'd face alone would be gruesome. What I didn't notice, however, was how he'd moved me slightly until I teetered at the edge of the pool.
He grinned mischievously. "One more thing, Miss Davis."
"Yes, Mr. Peterson?" I asked, welcoming the playful tone in his voice.
He kissed me hard then pulled away enough for me to catch the wink—before the splash.
24
THE SCAVENGER HUNT
The pilot announced our descent and excitement consumed me. In a few short hours, I'd finally be wrapped in Jordan's arms. Italy would officially become the past, the bittersweet memories locked away forever.
I had to check through The Program's database, proving I'd returned to the United States. Because "impulse" seemed to the mode I functioned in lately, I changed my flight in Rome and landed at Miami International, not JFK in New York. I needed to let Rick know before law enforcement became involved.
When I passed through the security door after scanning my pink band, I found a private waiting room. A telecom machine sat in the corner and I paid for a ten minute rental of a communication device. I didn't dare use my "spy phone" for fear of alerting Jordan to my whereabouts and spoiling my plan.
"Hi Dad. Guess what? I'm back!"
"Mars? Why are you home a week early and calling me from Miami International?" Even on the small video screen I saw his brows linked with suspicion.
"Long or short version?"
"I'm sure the long version would answer several questions, but since this call is probably monitored, I've no choice but a condensed version."
Hmm. Something I hadn't considered.
"Doug figured out your call had something to do with Jordan. I couldn't lie to him and
after we talked, probably for the last time, he offered to send me home."
Dad inhaled several deep breaths, his eyes hooded beneath the familiar furrowed brow I'd seen a lot lately. His gaze finally lifted, but the deep-seated concern in his expression alarmed me. "Mars, are you serious enough about Jordan to cut every other possibility out of your life? Pumpkin, you're barely eighteen."
"Daddy…I think I really love Jordan. That's why I flew to Florida. I want to surprise him at the beach house."
He scrubbed the thinning hair on his head hard enough to create a bald spot. "Mars, I'm not ready for this change in your life. Damn Program."
"The government doesn't control my heart. Falling in love is part of growing up, you said so yourself. Please say you understand?"
A moment of silence preceded the sound of surrender. "Just promise me, Mars, you won't do anything rash before I see you again—like elope."
"No way! I'm not ready for that kind of permanent." My candidate number paged. "Dad, I have to go. I'll call you later. By the way, give Karen my best. We'll talk about your love life when I get home." I smacked a loud kiss in the receiver and rushed to get my final clearance so I could begin the next journey.
Once settled into my hotel room, I recalled my cyber account and checked for missed calls to my personal receptor. I'd asked Jordan to grab it from my nightstand in Ohio, but only because I knew it was password locked. Who knew what surprises lurked in my Inbox. Of course he could have his trusty I.T. man unscramble it, but he played on my team right now.
I loved the thrill of seeing all the missed calls from Jordan before we made up, reinforcing he did want me back. One new call flashed and my heart sank. Doug. Not wanting to, but feeling guilty for the way things ended, I punched in the hotel's security code and returned the call. He answered on the second ring, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Hi," I said, nervous and suddenly doing the math on time zones in my head.
"Marli? Good, you're home safe." I knew the ID showed Ohio and video reception didn't work internationally on my private receptor, so he'd never be the wiser.
"How did things go after I left?"
His huffed a caustic laugh. "My father is furious with me; Marah won't speak to me; Doogie keeps asking for you, which results in dagger eyes from both Andrea and Brandt. Gramps cursed me in Italian and I think Grammy spit in my spaghetti tonight. My mother's the only one who's consoled me and even her expression shows discontent. You are completely blameless in their eyes."
"Doug, they need to know this wasn't your fault."
"You don't understand, Marli. I can handle their disappointment, but I don't want their memory of you tainted. Besides 'Daddy Dear' deserved justice served up to him for a change. I'll pass on your message when we return to the states."
"Doug, I'm sorry how things went down."
"You can't help who you love, Marli. I wish The Program had placed you with me first so I'd at least have had a fighting chance at winning your heart."
I lifted the swimsuit top from the pile of folded laundry on the bed. The strings that so easily slipped apart in Doug's fingers dangled from my own, reminding me how close I came to crossing a dangerous line. I dropped the swimsuit top as if it burned my flesh.
"No more guilt trips, Doug. I'm struggling to find balance in my life and as much as you wish you could be the one to create it, you're not."
A thought struck me like a lightning bolt. Doug became suspicious when I asked him to write down the number "4233" and request an interview. After begging for his trust one last time, he tentatively agreed and we said what I hoped to be our final goodbye. I prayed he followed through because "4233" was Brittany.
Wizard delighted at being my partner in crime with planning my surprise. He set my plan in motion by arranging a call to Jordan on a special frequency so he'd believe I remained in Italy. Apparently, Jordan also waged a bet with Mike that I'd come home early, which made my deceit more amusing by deflating his ego a tad in the process. Mike had fifty bucks riding on the bet.
The next morning I arrived at the Masons' private hangar at ten o'clock sharp as instructed. My favorite airplane was missing, but a certain white Porsche in the corner gave me a dizzy rush. Jordan would find my first surprise when he picked up his car.
Mike jogged across the hangar, jiggling a set of car keys. He looked to be a couple years older than Jordan and Jesse; built lean and shorter, his shiny hair the color of obsidian and cut to hang at a harsh angle across blackberry-hued eyes.
"This is so dangerous, girl. Jordan's going to flip out."
"Where's the fun if you can't flirt with danger once in a while?" Crap. I sounded like Jesse.
"So, did the call work?" he asked.
I almost had to run to keep up with him as he headed for the car. "Like a charm. Jordan thinks Doug's still in hot pursuit of my bones."
"Doug probably still is. Be careful, Marli. Petersons don't give up easily."
"Oh, I pretty much destroyed any chance of a future, trust me." We stopped in front of Jordan's Porsche and I immediately felt a zing of excitement. "I've got to ask. Can you make it snow in Miami, too? I mean you seem to be able to perform all this techno magic, surely a little thing like controlling the weather couldn't be that difficult."
Mike tossed me the keys, a wide smile pushing his cheeks. "I'm only god of my computer, not the universe. Wouldn't want that job."
Two beeps and the security system disengaged. I laid my blue plaid boxer shorts on the driver's seat with a note on top simply stating Find Me.
Mike returned the keys to Jordan's locker while I waited in the infamous silver Mercedes. Something bleeped on the dash panel Call from Jordan. I stiffened watching the digital display scroll the three words four times before disappearing. The car wasn't running so I felt certain the call couldn't patch through, although my heart beat somewhere besides in my chest with the thought. When Mike slid behind the steering wheel, I told him about the attempted call. He quickly hit some button that disabled any the video feed in case Jordan called again, then shook his head.
"I'm sure glad Jordan will be arriving after I'm gone tonight because he's going to kill me for not telling him you're here."
I wiggled my brows and gave him a sly smile. "I'll do my best to help him forgive you."
"Girl, you're going to have to do better than a smile to save my ass."
Our next stop—the marina. Mike included the dock patrol supervisor in our plan and while they talked, I quickly boarded Her Majesty with my bag of tricks. Mike told me the security paperwork already filed with Border Patrol placed Jordan at the helm. I draped my powder blue camisole over the captain's chair, tucking Jordan's monogrammed handkerchief into the neck in such a way the corner with the embroidered "J" lapped over the edge. I left my second note You're getting warmer.
Carefully, I descended the ladder on the back of the yacht into the suspended sport boat. On the driver's seat, I laid out clue Number 3—the top to my new black bikini, which I fastened through the safety belt so it wouldn't blow out to sea. The miniscule amount of shimmering fabric trimmed with silver metallic ribbons, guaranteed me sun exposure with minimal tan lines, not to mention a certain someone's complete attention. The third note I pinned to a strap read You're getting hotter, the double entendre purposely intended.
The butterflies in my stomach increased to epic proportions when we returned to the airport. Strapped to the pavement on the other side of the Mason's hangar sat a bright red and white helicopter.
Mike loaded my bags and walked the perimeter, making a preflight safety check and releasing the clamps from the rails. My dry throat burned. A familiar voice boomed from inside the hangar and he stalled in his enormous shadow when he spied me.
"Marli? Holy shit! No wonder this is hush-hush."
"Moose? I thought you were in Chicago with the band."
He offered his hand to help me climb into the chopper. "I flew home after the concert last night. Singing isn't my stronges
t talent. I recorded the instrument track yesterday morning." He heaved himself into the seat in front of me and turned to give me a teasing grin. "Maybe the guys will stop going for each other's throat now that you've returned."
"Are they still fighting about the pictures? I found out Mr. Peterson was responsible, hoping he'd break Jordan and me up for good."
I looked at the myriad of buckles that were supposedly to wrap me safely to the seat. No simple "insert A into B." I fumbled with the harness while Mike secured the luggage and some big bag with a medical insignia on the other side of me.
Without making eye contact, he concurred with my revelation. "That's kind of what Jordan figured and after some investigating, we, uh, removed the source." He jumped into the pilot seat and started switching toggle bolts.
My radar pinged. "Say what?"
"We're burning daylight. Better get airborne," Moose warned, ending the conversation.
Mike leaned around Moose's brawny shoulder and reached for the tangled mess I created with the safety harness. With a couple of twists, he had everything snapped in place. He fastened the headset over my ears so I could hear them talk over the noise. Grinning too wide, he gave me a quick lesson on what to do in the event of a crash.
I clenched my flotation device so tight he laughed. "Your fingers will go numb if you don't soften your grip. Relax, Marli. We haven't dumped a chopper yet—don't want to be 'shark bait.'"
"That's not funny." A nervous sweat beaded on my forehead. "I think I'm going to be sick. Tell me again why we can't take the yacht?"
"Neither of us have clearance to sail Her Majesty." Mike handed me a dark green plastic bag. "Here, just in case, but stop worrying. We've flown this island hopper many times, and we'd rather face sharks than Jordan if we let anything happen to you."
Moose interrupted with a message from the control tower. "Uh, Wiz? We don't have clearance to land on the island yet." Their eyes darted back and forth and I knew they held back something because of me.
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