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Here.
In Lima.
Every instinct within her was screaming that if she didn’t move, maybe he wouldn’t see her—and eat her alive. She was pretty sure she’d react exactly the same way if she was ever confronted with a hungry T-Rex.
Julia watched her gran’s eyes go wide at the sight of Joe, then she smiled with appreciation. “You must be a friend of my granddaughter.”
“You must be her incarcerated grandmother.” Two hands landed on Julia’s shoulders and Joe was standing at her back. Right against her back. “I’m Joe. I work with Julia.”
Her grandmother’s eyes sparkled. “Is that all you do with my granddaughter, Joe?”
Danger! Abort! Hide! Julia’s inner voice, which was remarkably similar to the robot in Lost in Space, was no help at all.
“With all due respect”—Joe’s soft American accent vibrated through Julia as he spoke to her gran—“that’s between Julia and me.”
He leaned into Julia, and she felt his breath whisper against her ear. “Later, we’re going to talk about the stunt you pulled at the airport.”
With a gentle squeeze of her shoulders, he stepped back. Julia couldn’t speak or move. She just stood useless and frozen in the middle of the room—painfully aware that her attempt to blend in with her environment and disappear entirely had failed miserably.
“This is Eduardo Sanchez,” Joe said to her grandmother. “He’s taking your case.”
Julia kept her head down, but peeked up to see a handsome middle-aged man in an expensive navy suit. He seemed
to jerk backwards when he looked at her, which made Julia step closer to Joe—for some reason. The lawyer gave a little shake of his head before turning to her gran with a smile.
“Call me Ed,” he said. “When Joe here said we were running to the rescue of a grandmother, you weren’t what I had in mind.”
Julia almost snorted. She imagined they’d envisioned a short, round elderly woman with a cap of curly grey hair, who dressed in shapeless beige clothes and sensible shoes. Julia looked down at her clothes, dismayed to realise she’d described her own dress sense. Yep, she wasn’t going to think about that. Patricia Matthews was the exact opposite of a typical granny. She might have been in her late sixties, but she was gorgeous in the same way Helen Mirren or Susan Sarandon were gorgeous. She was tall, willowy and stylish. Even behind bars, her shoulder-length blonde hair was perfectly styled and her face was tastefully made up. Dressed in figure-hugging jeans, an embroidered peasant blouse and beige leather high-heeled boots, she was stunning. The few lines on her face did nothing but enhance her beauty. The wicked look in her eyes made her seem far more vital than her age would usually suggest.
She waved a dismissive hand at Ed’s comment. “Age is just a number, darling.”
His eyes sparkled; he was obviously enamoured with Julia’s gran. It was no surprise—all of her female relatives stopped men in their tracks. Julia was used to being the exception.
“You’re charged with stealing a mummified body.” Ed consulted his notes. “Is that correct?”
“That’s the charge.” Patricia gave him a haughty look. “Are you going to ask me if I did it?”
“I wouldn’t dare.” Ed grinned as though she was delightful. “I haven’t had a lot of time to go over the paperwork, but it looks to me like there are some gaping holes in the case against you. I’m pretty sure we can get you out of here in no time at all.”
Patricia’s eyes narrowed. “What’s it going to cost me?”
“Ah, I see you’ve dealt with some of my esteemed colleagues.” Ed seemed unfazed by the implied insult. “Don’t worry—I charge a horrendous hourly fee, but there’s nothing on top of that, unless you want to buy me a drink sometime as a thank you for a job well done.”
Patricia beamed widely. “I think I can manage that.”
Julia stared at the two of them. Were they flirting? In a jail?
“That didn’t take long,” Joe muttered with a shake of his head, which reminded Julia that they were all speaking English.
And if that was the case, there was no need for Joe to stay and interpret. Suddenly giddy with the thought of getting rid of the man who unnerved her so, she tugged on Joe’s sleeve. When he looked down at her, she addressed her comments to the vicinity of his chin. “He speaks English better than I do. There’s no need for you to stay. You can go back to England.”
“Not going to happen, babe.”
Julia frowned, her eyes still on his chin. “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you, Joe, or take you away from your other obligations. Mr. Sanchez can easily translate for us.”
“I’m not only here to translate. I’m here to watch your back.”
“But…”
