Page 76 of Cutter’s Lady

After checking the bonds on the man whom LeFevre had tied up, Cutter went to next man. “Ah, you must be Moreno. I believe we met last night.” Cutter gave an extra tug on the belt, pulling it tight, before going to work on the remaining man, who was a small distance from the other three.

Moreno saw his opportunity, and he jumped up and took to his heels, hands still tied behind his back. Leslie raised her shotgun in his direction, but she hesitated to pull the trigger. He was running in a zig-zag pattern, and she had never shot a moving target. There was no way she could aim to hit his arm or knee, and she was afraid she might kill the guy accidentally. Luckily, Cutter was on him in a flash and caught him with a flying tackle. The two men rolled on the ground, then Cutter came up on top and crashed his fist into Moreno’s jaw, and the man went limp.

“That’s for last night,” Cutter said with a grim smile and walked back to Leslie.

“Do you also play football?” Leslie smiled.

“I do live in Texas. It’s sort of a prerequisite.” Cutter winked. He finished belting up the last thug and checked the bonds of the other two. Then he called Blake over, and they wrestled the four men into the back seat of the car.

Cutter turned to Leslie. “Okay, darlin’, let’s go.”

***

Leslie stood on the terrace of her hotel room and watched the sunrise tinge the ocean with gold and orange. In the pale light of dawn the beach and buildings were beginning to take shape. Leslie clenched her hands together. Where was Cutter?

It had been hours since he had had her drive LeFevre’s car to the Costa Linda police station, then had put her in a taxi despite her protest and sent her back to the hotel. Leslie hadn’t been able to go to bed. She had stayed up all night, waiting for his return, but he hadn’t come. Now here it was dawn, and her stomach was in knots with anxiety.

Leslie frowned, chewing on her lower lip. She wondered what she ought to do first. Call the police? Go back to the station? Or had Blake and Cutter gone back to the villa? What if Blake had somehow hurt Cutter? It seemed ridiculous, but anything was possible if Blake was scared enough.

“I hope you aren’t thinking about me, ‘cause you look ready to kill.”

“Cutter!” Leslie swung around, her face lighting with love and relief. Cutter stood inside the hotel room, only a few feet from her. She ran the short distance separating them and flung herself into his arms. “I’m so happy to see you! I was beginning to get worried.”

Cutter returned her hug, grinning, and lifted her onto her tiptoes to kiss her. His kiss was hot and demanding, and Leslie returned it with equal fervor. Finally he let her feet slide back down to the floor. “Last night was way too long. I kept thinking about you asleep at the hotel.”

“I wasn’t asleep. I was thinking of you. What happened last night?”

“Nothing dramatic. I told the cops that LeFevre and his men had kidnapped us and were about to kill us. They weren’t too impressed. They kept Blake and me at the station the whole night for questioning. I think they asked us more questions than they did LeFevre. They put him in jail, but I’m not sure he’ll stay there long. The police captain had bribery written all over his face. That’s why we’re flying out of the Costa Linda airport this morning.”

“This morning! But what about all our stuff back at the hotel in La Luz? What about Blake and the plans?”

“I’ll call and tell them to ship your luggage. And the plans are right here.” He pointed to the dresser, where a thick brown folder lay. “Apparently with all the corporate spies they use, they are understandably paranoid about sending this kind of information electronically.”

“Small blessings, I guess. Where is Blake?”

“Blake won’t be coming with us.”

Leslie gave him a puzzled look, which quickly turned into a frown. “What happened? Did they put him in jail?”

“Hold on. Before you start getting worried about that parasite, let me assure you that he’s not languishing in a San Cristóbalian prison. I let him go. I told the police he rescued us and that LeFevre and his men were the ones responsible. Then I took Blake back to LeFevre’s place and persuaded him to give me the plans.”

“Persuaded?”

“I bargained with him.” Cutter shrugged. “Your father wouldn’t prosecute if he got the plans back, and I wouldn’t tell the police that Blake helped LeFevre kidnap us yesterday. I also agreed not to tell Mora where he is. I somewhat exaggerated Mora’s indignation at being blamed for a kidnapping he didn’t commit.”

Leslie had to bite back a smile. “That wasn’t very nice.”

“My kindness is in real low supply for Blake Westfield.”

“Why did you let Blake go?”

“I couldn’t very well have a relative of my wife’s—even an ex-husband—being arrested and tried, now, could I?”

Leslie’s jaw dropped. “What? Your wife?” Cutter nodded and looked suddenly, uncharacteristically nervous. “Yeah. If you’ll marry me.”

“You want to marry me?” Leslie repeated, dazed.

“Of course. I thought you understood. I love you. More than anything or anyone I’ve ever known. I want us to be together for the rest of our lives.”