by Connie Mann
Beatrice and Richard Simms’s faces flashed in his mind, and he shook the images away. He couldn’t protect Regina and Eduardo any more than he had them. But if he didn’t try, they were as good as dead. The feisty orphanage director and her switchblade were no match for a trained lunatic with an expensive gun. He was all they had.
With a harsh laugh at God’s sense of humor, he realized he’d need some shut-eye, too, if they were going to keep going tonight. He slid his feet out of his boots and eased down on the bed opposite Regina, the baby between them. Just half an hour, that’s all he needed.
The half hour passed, and still sleep wouldn’t come, though the bed’s other two occupants dozed on. He propped his head on one arm and looked over at Miss da Silva. Regina. In sleep she looked softer, more feminine. Without those awful glasses, you could see her long lashes and elegant little nose. He studied her face, reaching a finger out to touch her, before he realized what he was doing.
His gaze wandered over the ever-present cardigan and loose blouse. He had a hunch Miss da Silva was hiding quite a bit behind all this dowdy armor. Not that he cared, he reminded himself. He had to keep them alive until they figured out who was after them, that’s all. If she wanted to downplay her assets, never get married, who was he to argue with her?
Not his problem.
He kept telling himself that until his eyes finally slid shut. The dream came again, but this time the child had Eduardo’s face. And the cries for help came from the alarmingly sensual mouth of a certain Brazilian orphanage director.
10
WAKE UP, MADAM DIRECTOR. WE NEED TO HIT THE ROAD.” THE VOICE was deep and quiet, a disturbingly male growl.
With reflexes developed on the streets, Regina shot to her feet, arms raised protectively to fend off an advance.
“Whoa. Ease up, lady.” He crossed his arms over his chest and regarded her curiously.
Disoriented, Regina tried to marshal her senses. Eduardo still slept peacefully on the bed, but he was wearing a different sleeper. Her eyes widened. “You changed him?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, well, he was screaming fit to wake the dead, and I didn’t see you hopping up to help the kid.”
Regina pushed the hair out of her eyes, horrified. “I slept through him crying?” That had never happened before. How could she protect him if she didn’t even wake up to tend him when he cried?
As though he could read her mind, Brooks said, “Don’t beat yourself up. You needed the rest.”
She opened her mouth to argue with him, but changed her mind. “Thank you.”
He shrugged as though it was no big deal. “I was awake anyway.”
Regina turned back to the bed to scoop up Eduardo, who had apparently awakened with the sound of her voice and now waved pudgy fists in the air. She was crooning to him when she heard a thump and saw Brooks toss her bag onto the bed and dump the contents out in a heap.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, mouth agape while he rifled her things.
He ignored her and began separating all her belongings into what looked like two different piles. “We need to travel light,” he said, voice clipped. “You’ve got way too much stuff.”
Regina marched over to the bed and started shoving her things back into the bag, her movements hampered by Eduardo, who squirmed in her grip.
Brooks took her arm in a grip that was firm, but not painful. When she struggled, he carefully tightened it, but not enough to hurt. Again, she had the sense of supreme strength ruthlessly controlled. She had to tip her chin up a bit to do it, but she looked him right in the eye. “Let me go.”
“Not until we get a few things straight, lady.”
“Stop calling me lady.”
There went that eyebrow again, and she could have sworn she saw a glimmer of amusement lurking in the shadows of those gray eyes. “What would you prefer I call you?”
She ignored his attempt at humor. “Just Regina.”
“Okay, Just Regina, here’s how this is going to work. I give the orders. You follow them, no questions asked.”
“Ha! That’s what you think,” she retorted seconds before his meaning sunk in. “Wait a minute. I thought you were leaving.”
He kept sorting and muttered something that sounded a lot like, “So did I,” but she couldn’t be sure.
She reached out a hand to touch him, then thought better of it. “Look at me,” she commanded.
He did, but he sure took his sweet time about it. All the earlier amusement had vanished, replaced by the deadly seriousness she’d glimpsed the previous night. The warrior had returned.
“Are you going to help me?”
“I’m going to help my brother and finish the mission I promised my mother. Eduardo and I are going back to the States.” He moved one shoulder in a dismissive gesture. “You’re free to do as you like.”
His attitude grated against her temper like flint to rock. Flames danced in her eyes. “In case you missed this little fact the first time, Senhor, Eduardo and I are a package deal—at least until he’s safely on a plane to Florida. No way are you waltzing out of here with him while there’s a crazy man with a gun looking for him.” She had just started warming to her topic when he quietly interrupted.
“How do you know he isn’t looking for me?”
She stopped. Opened her mouth. Closed it again. “Why would someone be after you?”
His mouth fixed into a grimace. “I’m sure you know I’m military. Ex-military,” he corrected quickly. “I’ve made some enemies.”
Oh, she could believe that, all right, though from what she’d seen, she pitied anyone unfortunate enough to get on this man’s bad side. But she didn’t think that was the case here. “Did I mention the phone calls?”
He straightened. “What phone calls?”
“After Irene died, I started getting calls. Late at night.”
Brooks took a step in her direction, but, with an effort of will, she held her ground.
“What did the caller say? And why haven’t you mentioned this before?”
“He never really said anything. And it never came up, that’s why.”
His hands tightened into fists as his sides and Regina eyed them warily. He took another step until she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. “Look, lady—”
“Regina.”
“Look, Regina,” he drawled the word insolently and had her setting her jaw, “if I’m going to risk my neck, I want to know exactly what’s going on, so I’ll know what I’m up against.”
His haughty tone had her throwing caution to the four winds. “Yeah, well, Mr. Military Man, we don’t always get what we want, now do we?”
Very calmly, he plucked Eduardo from her arms and settled him in the middle of the bed, then gave him the car keys to gnaw on. When Brooks turned and advanced on her, she retreated from the look in his eyes. Icy cold and turbulent, those eyes started a churning in the pit of her belly.
In two long strides, he had her backed up against the wall. One more step brought his feet on either side of hers, his hips inches away, palms flattened against the wall on either side of her head.
As scare tactics went, it was effective. The urge to struggle, to flee almost overpowered her. But she had learned long ago that men used their size to intimidate and bend females to their will. Even though she knew she was no match for him physically, she was done cowering, begging, or pleading.
She glanced at Eduardo and licked suddenly dry lips. She didn’t like this man. He was arrogant and rude. And even though his size intimidated her, she needed his strength on her side. On some instinctive level, she knew if he committed to keeping them safe, he would do it with his very last breath.
Eyes on hers, he deliberately leaned closer, so their bodies brushed. She closed her eyes and focused on Irene and Eduardo. This was a game to him. He was testing her somehow—gauging her reaction. She met his gaze without flinching, her mind made up. If sex was the payment for his protection, she would
allow it. Whatever it took to assure Eduardo’s safety.
But instead of pawing her, Brooks eased back and tucked her hair behind her ear in an oddly tender gesture, as though she’d answered some important question.
Regina told herself the goose bumps popping out on her skin were from terror, nothing more. Help me, Father.
“Relax, Reggie. I just wanted to see how far you’d go for the kid.”
Her eyes shot up to his in outrage. “How dare you . . . !”
He ran a finger down her nose, a flicker of amusement flashing briefly. “I dare quite a bit. But we’re getting off the subject. You want the kid safe, right?”
She nodded once, stiffly.
He raised her chin and kept it firmly in his hand. “Then here’s how this is going to work. I give the orders; you follow them. We’ll get rid of this psycho, and then I’ll get the kid safely to the States.”
“Why?” she managed, trying to see past the shutters guarding his eyes.
“Why what?”
“Why are you doing this?”
His expression hardened. “You worry about taking care of the kid and following orders. Let me worry about my reasons.”
Abruptly, he released her and turned back to the bed. Her knees threatened to buckle, so she braced her palms against the wall for support. After several deep breaths, she realized he was still calmly sorting through her possessions as if he had every right.
She stalked over to him just as he efficiently tucked several changes of her serviceable white cotton undies into a side pocket of the bag. The pile he was putting back into the bag was much, much smaller than the one he’d shoved away.
“Stop it. I need all that.”
“No, you don’t.” In went her toothbrush and deodorant. Her sleep shirt got tossed away.
She grabbed it and tried to put it back in the bag. He freed it from her grasp and went back to his task.
Several pairs of socks made the cut, but not her sandals. Half her blouses went in, along with a pair of overalls. Her only dress, two skirts, a paperback—all were tossed into the discard pile with one deft flick of a tanned wrist.
To her surprise, he tucked her Bible into a zippered compartment. But when he reached for the small carved wooden box and prepared to toss it across the bed, she lunged for it with both hands. “No. That goes with me.”
He pried her fingers loose. “Too heavy.”
Inexplicably, tears filled her eyes and the word came out sounding pathetic, even to her own ears. “Please.”
Brooks raised his head and studied her face for several long seconds. Then he opened the lid, and Regina saw him glance at the pitiful little pile of photos inside. He fingered a small lock of hair and studied the imprint of Eduardo’s foot, done at the hospital the day he was born.
Silently, Brooks closed the lid and placed the box in the bag. Regina released the breath she wasn’t aware she’d been holding.
He pointed one long finger in her face. “But if it comes down to it, we leave it behind. I won’t jeopardize this mission for the past.”
With quick, efficient movements, her things and Eduardo’s were repacked. He bundled the remaining items into his torn T-shirt.
“Grab the kid and let’s go.” He grabbed the shirt and both bags, satisfied with the weight of hers. “At least you didn’t pack a bunch of feminine baubles.”
He subjected her to a thorough once-over that stiffened her spine, then turned for the stairs before she could protest.
She snatched up the baby and hurried to keep up with his long stride, one thought reverberating inside her head. He was going to help them. Thank you, Father.
11
LADY PROVIDENCE HAD GRANTED HIM SUCCESS TODAY. JUST BEFORE darkness fell, he had found the road they’d taken. He’d had to drive to the Rodoviaria substation on every highway out of the city of Porto Alegre, but his patience and logical methods paid off. The officer at the last substation confirmed that he had seen a young couple with a baby matching that description at a nearby posto de gasolina. It had taken a fistful of reais to bribe that information from the uppity young man, but he had what he needed.
Now he just had to catch up to them. Once the baby was dead and his debt to his sister paid, he could move on to other things. Like Miss da Silva. He grinned widely as he recalled the luscious curves he’d glimpsed between the curtains of the orphanage windows. Amazing what a good pair of binoculars could reveal.
Oh, yes, revenge, and a warm and willing woman, too. And he’d make sure she was willing. She wouldn’t shy away from him this time. He knew all about her pitiful little childhood, but he figured she’d learned a few tricks out there on the streets that she wouldn’t mind trying on him. People often took a whole different view of things when their lives were on the line.
He checked his map. If he had to guess, they were headed for Vacaria. A fairly small town, but at least it had a decent hotel in the middle of it. It was where he’d go, in their shoes.
He set the map beside him and pressed down harder on the accelerator. His other car would take these hills without a problem. He sighed. This would soon be over. Then he could go back to the life he wanted. The life he deserved.
If possible, this night seemed darker than the one before. The hills were getting steeper, and Brooks saw fewer and fewer power lines. The occasional light flickered from the window of a small farmhouse. Highway BR 116 was fairly well maintained, but it took all his concentration to keep going. Doubts gnawed away at his conscience, getting more persistent with every mile. He was out of shape, too out of shape to do this. He couldn’t even go one night without sleep. In top form, he could go several and not have it affect him a bit.
He should have let Regina and the boy take their chances on their own. He looked over at her. That unruly mass of curls shielded her face, but he could tell from her voice that she was smiling down at Eduardo as she moved his arms and legs back and forth. His childish giggle filled the car, and Brooks’s guilt increased. He couldn’t handle the responsibility.
Unaware of his dark thoughts, Regina turned to him and smiled. It was a tentative smile, with traces of doubt hovering around the edges. Her innocent naiveté reminded him of the child she held in her lap and made him angry. She shouldn’t trust her life and Eduardo’s to him. He wasn’t a good bet.
“Vacaria shouldn’t be too much farther,” she said. “The San Bernardo Park Hotel is fairly new and has a very nice restaurant.”
After miles of self-recrimination, his voice came out harsh. “We’ll see. We can’t risk making ourselves easy targets.”
She cocked her head, puzzled. “We did before.”
“Then, we had no choice. We had to protect the other children, give them time to get away. It’s always wiser to avoid a confrontation if you can.” His logic sounded cowardly, even to him. He wondered if she bought his path-of-least-resistance thinking.
“They teach you that in the military?”
He snapped his head around to look at her, but between the hair and the dark, he couldn’t decide if he heard sarcasm or genuine curiosity in her voice. But her insight added fuel to his fire. “You just worry about the kid—”
“Certainly, Senhor Military Man. And his name is Eduardo, not ‘the kid.’ ”
He gritted his teeth. She was the most irritating female he’d ever met. He decided he preferred her scared speechless. “Look, Regina,” he said it slowly, so she wouldn’t miss his use of her name, “you take care of Eduardo,” here he spit each syllable out individually, “and I’ll worry about our strategy.”
“Fine. As long as you don’t do anything estupido.”
They rode in silence until the lights of Vacaria shone in the distance. He’d had the radio on for a while, but the constant chatter grated on his already-taut nerves. Though it did amuse him to hear American pop music in Portuguese.
He spotted the hotel up ahead. Fairly new, the two-story building boasted stucco walls and a red roof. On top, a neon sign proclai
med Hotel in big block letters. He scanned the decaying buildings on either side of the hotel. If they stayed here they might as well hoist a banner announcing their presence.
He kept going.
“What are you doing? You passed it.”
“Can’t stay there. Too obvious.”
She followed the building with her eyes until it disappeared from sight, her disappointment obvious. He heard her stomach rumble and wondered if she’d swallow her pride enough to ask him to stop for food.
She didn’t.
He stopped at another service station, filled the tank, and stocked up on more baby supplies and snacks. This time, at least, he found several pastelles. The meat-filled pastry wouldn’t taste great cold, but it would fill their bellies.
When the meager lights of Vacaria faded into nothing, Regina stifled a sigh. She didn’t want to admit how much she’d counted on a decent night’s sleep in a real bed. A real meal, with silverware, not snacks from a vending machine. She smiled to herself. How quickly she’d gotten spoiled. As a child, she’d have given just about anything—had, in fact—for the same prepackaged food she disdained now. Forgive me, Father.
Beside her, Brooks drove with quiet competence. The man was a mass of contradictions and made her tremble, but on a deeper level, she knew she had nothing to fear from him. At least not in the life-or-death sense.
Throughout the years she spent in the States, and even after she returned to Brazil, the military exploits of Noah Anderson’s eldest son were spoken of in awed tones by the women and with exaggerated pride by his parents. No one mentioned the rift between father and son, or questioned how secret missions were found out about. Her traveling companion had a reputation as a man of honor. An Army Ranger.
So why the reluctance to help? Why would he only agree when he discovered Eduardo was his brother? The questions burned the tip of her tongue, but she held them back. He wasn’t a man who invited questions or exchanged confidences.