“Damn you, Sean Ramiro!” Mandy whispered, alarmed. “What’s going on?”
He turned to her at last. “I didn’t want to alarm you—”
“You didn’t want to alarm me?”
“Shh! There’s nothing wrong with the plane. Honest. In fact, there’s really nothing wrong at all. We’re just taking a little side trip.”
“Side trip?”
“Er, yes.”
Just then the pilot came over the loudspeaker. He sounded marvelously, wonderfully calm. He started by explaining that obviously their seasoned passengers would realize that they were not flying their usual route. He assured them that nothing was wrong. It was just that they had a “gentleman” aboard who was insisting that they fly on to José Marti airport—in Havana.
Mandy gasped and stared at Sean. “We’re being hijacked to Cuba!”
“Yes, I know,” he said uncomfortably. “I tried to talk him out of it.”
The pilot then turned the microphone over to the “gentleman” in question, who told the passengers in broken English that he didn’t want to hurt anybody, certainly not Captain Hodges, but that he had been away from his homeland now for eight years and was determined to go back.
“I don’t believe this!” Mandy breathed. She stared at Sean again. “Can’t you do something?”
“I’m afraid not. He’s got a Bowie knife at the captain’s back and a hand grenade to boot.”
“How’d he ever get on the plane?”
“How the hell should I know?”
Their conversation ended at that point, because the stewardess began calmly putting them through a crash-landing procedure just in case they had difficulty landing. There was no panic on plane, possibly because the pilot came on again, assuring them that they had been cleared to land at José Marti.
“I really don’t believe this!” Mandy whispered nervously as she prepared for landing.
“I am sorry, Mandy. Really.”
“You’re sorry?”
“Yeah. I’m trying to convince you that we’re a great people, and all you get to meet are the kidnappers and the hijackers.”
She gripped his hand tightly. “That’s not true. I got to meet one really great cop.”
The plane jolted as the landing gear came down.
“Hey, you’re admitting it at last. I told you I was really great.”
The wheels touched the ground and the brakes came on with a little screech. Mandy prayed that the runway was long enough for the jet.
It was.
In seconds the plane came to a complete stop. And then, seconds later, it began filling with the Cuban military.
Mandy quickly lost Sean. The stewardess came back for him, desperate for a translator.
* * *
It seemed to Mandy that she sat there by herself forever. Nothing happened to her; nothing happened to anyone, but it seemed like absolute chaos. There were just too many people on the plane, and at some point, the air conditioning went out.
The heat was sweltering, and just when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore an announcement was made that buses would be coming to take the passengers to the terminal, where they were welcome to exchange their money and buy food and souvenirs.
Mandy craned her neck to find Sean, but she couldn’t see him. Unhappily, she started to leave along with the others.
She was stopped at the steps by a trim officer with a Clark Gable mustache. She couldn’t understand him, and he couldn’t understand her. All she could tell was that he was insisting she stay behind, and a case of the jitters assailed her again. Why her? Oh, God! Maybe they though she was a murderess, too!
But she merely found herself escorted back to the center of the plane, where Sean was in earnest conversation with several more mustachioed officers. The talking went on and on, with everyone gesticulating.
Finally the man who looked to be the ranking officer shrugged, and the others laughed, then stared at her, smirking.
Sean turned to her then and gripped her arm. “Quick!” he whispered into her ear. “Let’s go. There will be a car at the foot of the steps. Get right into it, and act as if you love me to death!”
“What?”
“Shh! Just do it!”
“I—”
“Mandy! Please!”
He didn’t give her any choice. He shoved her down the aisle, then hurried her down the stairs.
The car was there, just as he had said, a black stretch limo. She climbed into the back with Sean, and was surprised when the official with the Clark Gable mustache followed.
At last they reached an impressive building with emblems all over beautiful wrought-iron gates. She managed to whisper to Sean, “Where the hell are we, and what the hell is going on?”
“The Swiss embassy,” he whispered back. “The pilot is around here somewhere, too. He has to make special arrangements for fuel to get home.”
The car stopped. The Cuban official was greeted by a tall blond man, but though this might have been the Swiss embassy, they were still speaking Spanish, and she was lost.
“Sean, I don’t care about the pilot. What are we doing here?”
“They’re, uh, trying to keep me here,” he said.
“What?”
He took both her hands earnestly. “Just help me, Mandy. Go along with me. They know who I am.”
“Who are you?”
“Oh, it all goes way back. You wouldn’t want me to be stuck here forever, would you?”
She gazed at him warily. “Go on.”
“Marry me. If I marry an American citizen—”
“You are an American citizen.”
“Ah, but I told you, they know me! My father was involved in some things that—”
“Uh-uh! This guy is acting like your long-lost friend.”
“Actually, he is. I was in school with him until the night I fled the country.”
“I thought you were born in Ireland.”
“I was. It’s a long story.” He put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her anxiously to him. “Well? They’ve given me a chance. The Swiss will give us a license and a minister. Mandy! Come on! You’ve got to get me out of this one.”
She stared at him for a long, long time. At the sun above them, at the flowers, at the sky, at the beautiful mountains in the distance.
This wasn’t how she had expected things to go at all. The other passengers were busy buying trinkets as mementos of their incredible day, while she was here with Sean, listening to the most outrageous cock-and-bull story she had ever heard in her life.
She lowered her head, smiling slowly, and just a little painfully. After all these years, he had come back to his Cuban heritage, and it was his Irish blarney that was showing!
Her past flashed before her eyes. And she knew that although it would always be there, the time had come to gently close the door on it.
“If I don’t do this, they’ll keep you here, huh?”
“They could put me in prison.”
“Oh.”
“Well?”
“I don’t suppose I could let that happen to you, could I?”
“It would be terribly mean, considering all I’ve done for you.”
She was silent. He gazed at his watch impatiently. “Mandy! We have to do this before they make the fuel arrangements!”
She shrugged. “Then let’s do it.”
* * *
The Swiss were charming. Papers were secured, and they were ushered into a little chapel that adjoined the building. The ceremony was in French, and amazingly quick, because everyone was rushing.
Mandy smiled through it all, wondering how Sean had ever convinced the Cuban military authorities to let him get away with this nonsense.
But when her “I do” was followed by a very passionate kiss, she assumed it would be something they could talk about for ages.
They were whisked very quickly back to the airport. The fuel had been secured, and all the passengers had reboarded with the rum, ci
gars, and so forth.
They were in the air before Sean turned to her sheepishly at last. “I have a confession to make. I asked Captain Rotello for special permission to marry you. I lied, though I really did go to school with him. And he did know about my father. Our dads had been friends.”
“Oh,” Mandy said simply.
“Well, do you hate me?”
She looked at him regally, a superior smile playing on her lips. She saw the tension and passion in his wonderful green eyes.
“Actually, no, I have a confession to make myself.”
“Oh, really?”
“I knew you were lying all along. I may not speak Spanish, but I’m not a fool.”
“Oh,” he said blankly.
“I did intend to learn the language, of course. Completely. I mean, I’ll be damned if I’ll have you and our son talking about me when I don’t understand a single word you’re saying!”
“Our son?”
“Or daughter.”
“We’re—we’re having one?”
“In December. Maybe November.”
He swallowed then, a little stiffly. “You married me…because you’re pregnant?”
“I swear I’ll hit you! I married you because I love you! Not because of your ridiculous story, and not because I’m pregnant. Come to think of it, you did threaten me about that! But—”
He smiled, his arm coming around her as he interrupted her. “You love me, huh?”
“Yes, and you know it.”
“Yeah, well, it just sounds real nice to hear the words now and then. You’d better start practicing, because I’d like to hear them more frequently from now on.”
“Hey, what’s good for the goose—”
“I love you, Mrs. Ramiro. Desperately. Passionately. I love you, I love you, I love you—”
Unfortunately, the stewardess made an appearance just then.
“She loves me! She married me!” Sean told the woman.
“But I thought she was—you just married a murderess?”
“Oh, well, that—”
“Lieutenant Ramiro, what a line you gave me! Get back where you’re supposed to be—in economy!”
But she wasn’t serious. After all, it had been a most unusual flight. She merely arranged for more champagne.
Mandy laughed with him while they sipped champagne, then sobered slightly. “Is this real?”
“It’s real.”
“Sean…I may need help sometimes.”
“We all need help sometimes.”
“I do love you. So much. I guess I did, even on the island. I wanted to be rescued, but I didn’t want to go back. Not to a life without you.”
“Mandy…”
His champagne glass clinked down on his tray. His arms swept around her, his fingers curling into her hair. And when his lips touched hers she was hungry for him, so hungry that it was easy to become swept up in his embrace and to forget that they were on a populated plane.
He broke away from her, groaning softly, excitingly, against her cheek. “Mrs. Ramiro, watch your hands.”
“No one can see me.”
“Well, they might see me! Oh, God, I can’t wait till we get off this plane. Your place or mine?”
“Mine. I think we should sell yours.”
“I think we should sell yours.” He smiled. “Oh, hell! I don’t care where we go—as long as we get there!”
* * *
It took them another two hours to get anywhere; in the end he went to her house, because it was closer to the airport. And though Mandy would have thought that such a feat was impossible, he managed to disrobe them both while climbing the stairs, strewing fabric down the length of the steps, then landing them on her bed in what was surely record time.
She was so happy. So amazed that she was his wife, that they were making love on the evening of their marriage. That they were both totally, completely committed.
It was fast; it was feverish—it had to be at first.
But the night stretched before them. Time for her to warn him that she owned one of the ugliest cats in the world, time for him to warn her that his partners could be a pain in the neck. Time to discuss things that hurt; time to talk about the past, and time to put it to rest.
And then time to make love all over again.
“Te amo,” Mandy told him carefully, practicing the Spanish she had learned.
He smiled, tenderness blazing in his eyes, and she murmured the strange words again, “Te amo—here,” she said, meeting his eyes, then kissing his chest. “And te amo—here.”
With each repetition she moved against him, finding more and more deliciously erogenous zones.
“And te amo—here.”
He gripped her hair, breathless, ablaze. He groaned, and at last swept her beneath him, pausing just an instant to whisper, “Mrs. Ramiro. I have never, never heard Spanish more eloquently spoken.”
“Querido!” she whispered, and contentedly locked her arms about him.
He found life in her arms. And he gave her a new life, all she would ever ask in the world.
“Querida! My love, my love.”
He kissed her abdomen and smiled as she arched to him.
She knew that she could love again.
Love a child, love a husband.
Even if he was rather manipulating and most certainly strange—and, oh, passionate!—and…
“Sean…”
She simply couldn’t ponder it any longer.
It was the…circumstances.
EPILOGUE
Sean hesitated momentarily after he opened the door, wondering what Mandy’s reaction would be to the visitor he was bringing home.
“Amanda?”
He stepped into the entryway of the big old frame house they had bought and stared through the living room to the office. As he had expected, she was at her desk, her reading glasses at the tip of her nose as she pored over term papers.
Katie—a toddling and mischievous two now—was playing sedately with her locking plastic blocks, probably trying to recreate a dinosaur like the one her mother had made her the night before, Sean thought wryly.
“Mandy?” he called again.
She looked up, saw him, threw her glasses down and scooped Katie into her arms before coming to meet him excitedly, her words rushing out.
“Sean, believe it or not, I had the best time in the world today! I went into the market on Flagler because they have the best ham in the world. I have to admit I always resented going there before, because everyone spoke Spanish, but mine has gotten so good, and I got into this wonderful conversation with the clerk and I started to teach her English! I—oh!”
Her spiel came to an abrupt halt when she saw that her husband was not alone, and she stared at her visitor in dead surprise.
Sean slipped an arm around her. “Julio stepped into my office just when I was getting off for the day. He was just paroled, and he was anxious to see you.”
“Oh,” Mandy murmured.
Julio Garcia, gaunt-looking in a too-big suit, smiled hesitantly and offered his hand.
She took it, balancing her daughter in her other arm.
“I had to come,” he told her softly. “The government has released me. But that is nothing. I must ask you to forgive me. I must hope that you understand and can believe that I did not ever wish to harm you. That—that I know now how wrong I was.” His eyes were totally in earnest.
Mandy smiled at last, feeling the assurance of her husband’s arm around her shoulders. “I forgive you, Julio. How…how are your parents?”
He gave her a smile that seemed to light up the room. “They are well. Even my father is well. The United States gave him a doctor who is good. And Mama, Mama is Mama.”
Mandy nodded, then asked curiously, “And Maria?”
Julio laughed. “Mama married Maria off to a man with a will like iron. She is like you—one babe in her arms, one to come.”
Mandy didn’t ask about Juan or Roberto. Sean had
assured her at the trial that Roberto faced so many charges that even if he lived to be an old, old man, he would probably never leave prison again.
Juan, too, would not come up for parole. He had been involved in a narcotics case before the kidnapping, and the judge hadn’t shown him one bit of leniency.
“I am very happy for you, Mrs. Ramiro,” Julio said. “Congratulations. Your daughter is beautiful.”
Mandy discovered that she was able to laugh proudly. “Yes, she is. Thank you.”
Katie was staring at Julio with her knuckles shoved into her mouth, but she really was beautiful. She had Sean’s green eyes and a headful of ebony curls.
“You wish a son now, yes?” Julio asked.
It was Sean, lightly massaging his wife’s nape, who answered. “Not necessarily. I’m awfully fond of girls. A son, a daughter, it doesn’t matter. Mandy and I were both only children, and we both wished that we’d had a brother or a sister, so…”
He shrugged, and Mandy flushed, because though they’d both been quite happy about it, this baby was as completely unplanned as Katie had been.
“Well…” Julio cleared his throat and shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I must go now, I did not wish to impose. I just wanted you to know that I appreciate how you told them at the trial that you did not think I was cruel, but needed help. And that I wished so much for your forgiveness. I have a good job already, too. I am a mechanic. One day I will own my own garage.”
“I’m sure you will,” Mandy said softly.
“Goodbye, then, señora. I wish you and your husband and your lovely family all the best.”
Sean walked him to the door. Mandy watched them, hugging Katie to her.
When Sean returned she was still smiling, so he arched one of his dark brows curiously. “Okay, out with it. What are you thinking?”
She laughed, managing to hug him and Katie at the same time. “I was just thinking that I really do forgive him with all my heart. Without him, I’d have never met this weird cop who stuck by me through thick and thin—and then married me, to boot.”
“Hey, duty called. And you were such a marvelous blond bombshell.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He grinned, then kissed her warmly and deeply until Kate let out an outraged squawk that Mommy and Daddy were crushing her.
A Matter of Circumstance Page 20