by Diana Palmer
They hugged him again.
“Open the others!” Minette told the kids.
They laughed and rushed back to the presents that were left.
“Softy,” she chided, kissing Hayes warmly. “I love you, too.”
“That goes double for me.” He kissed her back. He reached over and produced a small box. “This one is for you.”
“Oh!”
She opened the wrappings and discovered a jeweler’s box. She looked at Hayes curiously. He nodded at the box.
She opened it, and caught her breath. It was the most beautiful hand-carved cameo she’d ever seen in her life. It was graceful and beautiful, a young girl’s head. But not just any young girl. It was her head. It looked just like Minette in a portrait her stepmother had commissioned when she was sixteen. But the artist who’d carved it had put her in a high-necked Victorian dress, with her hair in a bun and a soft, secretive smile on her full lips.
“I...I’ve never...it’s so beautiful!” She started crying.
He hugged her close. “My beautiful Minette,” he whispered. “I hoped you’d like it. The guy’s been working on it since Thanksgiving. He barely got it done in time.”
“I’ve never had anything so pretty in my whole life.”
“There is just one thing prettier than the cameo,” Hayes whispered.
“There is? What?” she asked, lifting a face wet with tears but smiling.
“You, my darling,” he said softly, his deep voice velvety with feeling. “You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.”
She couldn’t find the words. She knew she wasn’t beautiful. But Hayes thought she was. And that was all that mattered. She tucked her face into his throat.
“I love you, Hayes,” she whispered brokenly.
“I love you. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry, merry Christmas,” she replied. “And I hope we have a hundred more, together.”
He sighed. “So do I.”
She reached up and kissed his rugged chin. “And if you’ll stop walking into gun battles,” she murmured, “we might just have that many!”
His eyes were soft with affection. “Tell you what. I promise to stay out of gunfights from now on. How’s that?”
“That’s just what I wanted to hear.”
He rubbed his nose against hers. “One condition.”
“What condition?”
“That you stop provoking drug lords to firebomb the newspaper.”
“Awww. Spoilsport.”
“If I have to promise, so do you.”
She met his eyes and her own smiled back. “Okay. I promise.”
He moved back into his chair and pulled her down onto his lap. “Well, I don’t know about you,” he said loud enough for the others to hear, “but I’d really like to see a cartoon movie!”
Cheers went up from the kids. Aunt Sarah chuckled.
“So would I,” Minette agreed. “Suppose I go and pop some popcorn?”
“You stay right there,” Sarah said, rising. “I’ll make the popcorn. Hayes would pine if you left him.”
Hayes grinned from ear to ear. “Yes, I would. Thank you, Sarah.”
“I am your friend,” Sarah assured him. “Here, kids, let me put the first movie in the player. There we go! Now I’ll hurry up and pop that popcorn. Won’t be a minute! I’ll feed Rex while I’m in the kitchen.”
Minette made a face at her aunt. Then she snuggled close to Hayes and closed her eyes.
A minute later, Aunt Sarah was back. She looked resigned. “Hayes, I hate to bother you, but could you ask Andy to get off the stove?”
“The stove?” Hayes blinked.
“I believe he wants his bananas fried.”
Hayes burst out laughing. He and Minette filed into the kitchen behind Sarah. Rex was sitting expectantly near the counter, hoping to be fed. Andy was sprawled over the enamel cooktop of the stove where Sarah had been slicing his bananas. He was digging into them as if he hadn’t been fed in weeks.
“Pig,” Hayes muttered.
Andy gave him a look, snorted salt out of his nose and went right back to eating.
“Don’t you pay him any attention, old dear. You can have your bananas anywhere you want them,” Minette said, and scratched him behind his ears.
Andy looked up at her and bobbed his head and blazed his eyes, before he went back to eating.
“He used to be my lizard,” Hayes sighed.
“He still is. He just likes me best,” Minette said gleefully.
“What are you putting on those banana slices?” Hayes asked.
She chuckled. “That’s my little secret. Eat up, Andy. Stove tops can be cleaned,” she reminded Sarah.
Sarah shook her head. “Ah, well, I can make microwave popcorn. At least he can’t get in there!”
“Yet,” Minette enunciated.
Sarah threw up her hands and went to feed Rex.
Hayes tugged Minette close to his side, but Andy didn’t threaten or even offer to break anything. He looked down at her. “I think he’s cured of being jealous.”
She shook her head. “He’s just being cautious. He doesn’t want to lose his kitchen privileges!”
He laughed and bent to kiss her. “If you say so.”
She laid her head against his chest. “It’s been a long road, hasn’t it, Hayes?”
He understood what she was saying. “A very long road. But it’s all rainbows at the end of it.”
She nodded. “Rainbows.”
Andy gave his humans a wry glance, shrugged in his lizardly way and tucked back into his dish of sliced bananas. And if iguanas could have managed expressions, he’d have been smiling from ear to ear.
Chapter 17
The traffic through the little café in San Antonio, Texas, was slow but steady. Two men sat in a booth with red vinyl seats, sipping cups of black coffee. One was the mayor of a small town over the border in Mexico. The other was a state senator with an interesting background, most of which was unknown to the voting public.
“It will take a lot of money to get me elected,” the politician told the drug lord. “You know what’s at stake. If I have the power, I can help you.”
“Yes, but there is no guarantee that you can win this election,” Charro Mendez said, shrugging. “It may be only a dream.”
“Or it may not. I have friends in high places, and some in very low places, who can insure that I get the victory.” Mike Helm smiled, a cold, practiced, formal smile that he used when campaigning. “A little cash here, a little intimidation there, and I’m in.”
“I suppose it helps that the incumbent is too old to lift a cup and eaten up with diseases,” Charro said sarcastically. “He may not last until the next election.”
“In that case, I’ll be a shoo-in,” Helm replied. “I have a friend who’ll make sure I get appointed to fill out his term.”
“You take much for granted,” Charro replied.
The politician just laughed. “I know how things work. That’s all. I’m no newcomer to politics. I’ve been in elected offices since I was out of college.”
And done very little with them, except to enrich himself. But Charro didn’t say so.
“Listen, I’ll make sure you don’t get hassled at the border with your transports,” Helm said earnestly. “All you have to do is make an investment. Hell, one of your pistols would get me elected. They’re worth a small fortune!”
Charro lifted his head proudly. “I was born to a family of farmers,” he said. “I worked in the fields from dusk until dawn, until my back almost broke. Then one of the Fuentes brothers took pity on me and gave me a job as a runner. I was very good at it. He kept me on, and I advanced higher and higher until now, I take the place of El Ladrón, may he rest in peace.”
“Yes, you’re good at your trade.”
“I have earned the right to these fancy weapons you see,” he added coldly. “They are a sign of my wealth and intellect, they tell people that I am wealthy.”
“I will be a better patrón than my predecessor, and I will make more money than he did. I intend to gain more territory. Only El Jefe stands in my way, and I will find means to deal with him before I am through.”
“I believe you. About that cash...?”
Charro’s eyes narrowed. “I will help you. But remember your promise.” He smiled. It was an icy tug of his lips. “Because I do not forgive betrayal.”
Helm had heard about Charro’s enforcer, Lido. This man sitting across from him had killed the man in cold blood. Rumor was that he had a new enforcer, much worse than Lido.
“So you know about Lido, do you?” he chuckled. “Good. You can see that I am a man of my word. I have a replacement for him.” He indicated a tall, blond man with one eye standing at the door. “He is very good. He calls himself Stanton. I do not know if he has other names.”
“He looks shady,” Helm muttered.
“But of course he does,” Charro replied, and laughed. “He is very experienced in his field.”
“Which is...?” Helm asked.
Charro smiled. “Assassination.”
Helm reached for his coffee cup and sipped the cold liquid. He was going to have to walk a narrow path with these people. But without their financial support, he’d be stuck in the state legislature forever. He wanted more. He was intelligent, and he was ambitious. But what he wanted most was wealth, tons of it. This man could help him. So he had to be pleasant, even as he was repulsed by what Charro was saying. It would be worth it, in the long run.
* * *
At the doorway, Stanton Rourke tried not to look smug. He’d had a friend tout him to Charro as an experienced hired killer, and Charro had sent for him. He had a whole world of fake identities that he could assume when he needed to. This was one of them. He needed to know who had killed the little computer tech, Joey, so beloved by the men in Eb Scott’s mercenary group. They all wanted revenge, but first they had to find the men responsible, and the computer that contained enough information on the DEA mole to expose him.
Now he was learning other things of value—that Senator Helm there was dickering with his boss for money to run a campaign for the U.S. Senate. What a combination they made, the little mayor and the tall, sleazy politician. What a pity, Rourke thought privately, that he was going to find the means to bring them both down. But first, he wanted to find the people who killed Joey. And this was the only way to do it.
* * *
Hayes Carson was sitting in his office when a stranger walked in the door. Hayes was much better. His arm was healing. The cold bothered it, but the therapy was giving him more range of movement by the day. Marriage suited him, as well. Minette was all he could ever want in a woman. He loved her. He loved her family, too. He was happier than he’d ever been in his life.
He cocked his head as the one-eyed man with blond hair approached him. He frowned. “Don’t I know you?” he asked.
The blond man chuckled. “I think you might,” he said in a crisp South African accent.
“Rourke,” Hayes exclaimed.
“That would be me.” He sat down in the chair in front of Hayes’s desk. “I wanted to give you some interesting news.”
“What?”
“State Senator Matt Helm is having conversations with my new boss about financing his federal senate campaign,” he said. “Drug lords with a mouthpiece in congress. Think about it.”
“Horrible,” Hayes said. “But what do you think I could do about it? Jacobsville is far away from Austin.”
“I know. But that was just news in passing.” He leaned forward, solemn now. “I’m after the people who killed Joey,” he said. “I think my new boss was one of them, but I have to be sure. I don’t want to take him down in Mexico. I want him tried for murder here, in Jacobs County, where it happened.”
Hayes raised both eyebrows. “Your new boss...?”
“Oh, that. I’m working for Charro Mendez.”
“The drug lord...?”
“Hold it, hold it.” Rourke held up both hands. “I’m undercover. If I can find a way to bring him down, I’ll do it. But my priority is to find Joey’s killers.”
Hayes took a breath. “How the hell did you get that job?”
“It’s a long story. I have friends in odd places. Just wanted you to know what’s going on.”
“I was sorry about Joey,” Hayes said quietly. “He was one of the best computer techs I ever knew.”
“He was sort of our mascot,” Rourke told him. “We miss him around the camp.” His face set in hard lines. “Revenge is a bad motive, but justice is a good one.”
“Did you help Carson feed somebody to a crocodile?” Hayes asked suddenly.
Rourke just stared at him, with that one dark eye. He didn’t say a word.
“Eloquent,” Hayes pronounced, and laughed shortly. “All right, I won’t pry.”
“Good thing. I’m always discreet.” He stood up. “I’ll take my leave. I just wanted to let you know that I’m looking for evidence. If I find the culprit, or culprits, will you have them prosecuted?”
“You bet your life I will,” Hayes said curtly.
Rourke nodded. “That’s all I ask.”
“If you can get them to come across the border voluntarily,” Hayes added with a sigh. “Extradition is a pain in the...well, in an unmentionable spot.”
“I can guarantee they’ll turn themselves in,” Rourke said. He smiled slowly. “Because the alternative will be so very, very messy.”
“Don’t you go feeding people to alligators around here,” Hayes said, wagging his finger at the man.
“You don’t have any alligators around here.”
Hayes shrugged. “Well, if we ever do...!”
Rourke just laughed.
* * *
Hayes went home and told Minette what he’d gotten from Rourke.
“How about Carlie?” she asked. “Have you talked to her?”
“Yes, I have. Cash Grier got an artist he knows to make a drawing of the man she saw. It’s in my desk drawer.”
“Did it jog your memory?” she asked.
“Sadly, no.” He sighed. “You know, I think I may be getting old.”
She slid her arms around him and pressed close. “Hayes, you’ll never get old.”
“Think so?”
She reached up and bit him softly on the earlobe. “The kids are in school, Aunt Sarah’s gone to the grocery store. We have about forty-five minutes.... Hayes!”
He backed her into the wall, stripped her from the waist down, dropped his slacks and went into her without a second’s hesitation.
She hung there, shocked, delighted, shivering at the instant passion he’d kindled in her.
“I read about this in a book,” he whispered as he pushed into her, moving his hips so that she began to moan. “It was the most erotic thing I ever read. So I thought, why not try...it?”
His voice trailed off as the desire blazed to fever pitch. He thrust down into her soft body, his face rigid with need, his body corded like wood as he moved on her.
She arched toward him, unbuttoning her shirt, unhooking her bra, then unfastening the buttons on his shirt with trembling hands. She rubbed her bare breasts against his chest as he built the rhythm until he was buffeting her so hard that the picture on the wall began to shake.
“Hayes,” she whimpered. “Oh, Hayes...!”
“Yes, baby, yes,” he whispered hoarsely. “Yes. Now!”
He moved so hard, and so fast, that she climaxed instantly and shuddered with the fever of it while he thrust into her again and again until finally his own body corded and convulsed. His groan at her ear was anguished, but she knew that pleasure, not pain, provoked it.
They clung to each other in the aftermath, shivering, damp with sweat, still hungry.
“Not enough,” he said through his teeth.
“Not enough,” she agreed breathlessly.
She picked up the strew
n clothes and walked up the staircase bare to the waist, with Hayes right behind her.
They made it to the bedroom, behind a locked door. He laid her down on the bed and slid over her, his mouth anguished on her hard-tipped breasts as he began to arouse her all over again.
She cried out when he went into her, still burning for him, still hungry and insatiable. She looked at his face the whole time, her eyes open, so that he could see the pleasure he was giving her with the quick, hard thrusts of his hips.
“It’s never...enough,” she whispered, shaking.
“No. And it doesn’t...last...oh, God,” he groaned and began to shake, too.
“Yes,” she whispered, pushing up, helping him. “Yes, yes!”
He cried out, his lean body arching, his face contorted and red as he shuddered and shuddered with fulfillment.
She went with him all the way, her body so attuned to his that each thrust brought her higher and higher and higher, until the tension burst and she convulsed under him.
They lay together, shuddering, in a tangle of damp flesh.
“I can’t ever get enough of you, Mrs. Carson,” he whispered hoarsely. He kissed her tenderly, his lips gently probing hers. “And I want so badly to make you pregnant...”
She laughed breathlessly and kissed him back. “We have all the time in the world. When it happens, it happens.”
“Well,” he said, lifting himself to look down at her with proud, hungry eyes, “if what we did downstairs didn’t accomplish it, this might.”
She lifted her eyebrows. “You can’t do it three times in a row.”
He eased down on her. “Would you care to bet on that?” he chuckled, and when he went into her, she realized that, yes, he could do it three times in a row. But she was much too involved to say so.
* * *
A few weeks later, she started throwing up while at the office. She went straight to the sheriff’s office after she stopped by Dr. Lou Coltrain’s office for a pregnancy test.
Hayes was filling out a form. He looked up as she entered the room. “Well, hello, gorgeous,” he said with a grin. “Are we going out to lunch together?”
She went around the desk, turned his swivel chair and sat down in his lap. “We can’t go to lunch. I’m sick.”