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“The last time you left me, I got into trouble,” she felt obliged to remind him.
He didn’t appreciate the reminder. He scowled down at her as he reached for a spear of melon. “If you’ll just keep your little butt where I tell you to, you’ll be fine.”
“I’m fine when I’m with you.”
“Damn it, stop arguing with me!”
“I’m not arguing. I’m pointing out some obvious facts! You’re the one who’s arguing!”
His eyes were yellow fire. He bent down until they were almost nose to nose, his control under severe stress. His teeth were clenched together as he said, evenly spacing the words out, “If you make it home without having the worst spanking of your life, it’ll be a miracle.”
“I’ve never had a spanking in my life,” she protested.
“It shows!”
She flounced into the chair and pouted. Grant’s hands clenched; then he reached for her and pulled her out of the chair, hauling her up to him for a deep, hard kiss. “Be good, for a change,” he said, aware that he was almost pleading with her. “I’ll be back in an hour—”
“Or so!” she finished in unison with him. “All right, I’ll wait! But I don’t like it!”
He left before he completely lost his temper with her, and Jane munched on more of the fruit, terribly grateful for something fresh to eat. Deciding that he’d meant only for her to stay in the house, not in the room, she first got everything ready for them to leave, as he’d instructed, then sought out the señora and had a pleasant chat with her. The woman was bustling around the kitchen preparing food for her boarders, while two of her daughters diligently cleaned the house and did a mountain of laundry. Jane had her arms deep in a bowl of dough when Grant returned.
He’d gone first to their room, and when he found her in the kitchen there was a flicker of intense relief in his eyes before he masked it. Jane sensed his presence and looked up, smiling. “Is everything arranged?”
“Yes. Are you ready?”
“Just as soon as I wash my hands.”
She hugged the señora and thanked her, while Grant leaned in the doorway and watched her. Did she charm everyone so effortlessly? The señora was beaming at her, wishing her a safe journey and inviting her back. There would always be a room for the lovely young señora and her husband in the Trejos house!
They collected their packs, and Grant slung the rifle over his shoulder. They risked attracting attention because of it, but he didn’t dare leave it behind. With any luck they would be on a plane out of Costa Rica by nightfall, but until they were actually on their way he couldn’t let his guard down. The close call the day before had been proof of that. Turego wasn’t giving up; he stood to lose too much.
Out in the alley, Jane glanced up at him. “What exactly did you arrange?”
“A farmer is going into Limon, and he’s giving us a ride.”
After the adventure of the last several days that seemed almost boringly tame, but Jane was happy to be bored. A nice, quiet ride, that was the ticket. How good it would be not to feel hunted!
As they neared the end of the alley, a man stepped suddenly in front of them. Grant reacted immediately, shoving Jane aside, but before he could swing the rifle around there was a pistol in his face, and several more men stepped into the alley, all of them armed, all of them with their weapons pointed at Grant. Jane stopped breathing, her eyes wide with horror. Then she recognized the man in the middle, and her heart stopped. Was Grant going to die now, because of her?
She couldn’t bear it. She had to do something, anything.
“Manuel!” she cried, filling her voice with joy. She ran to him and flung her arms around him. “I’m so glad you found me!”
CHAPTER TEN
IT WAS A NIGHTMARE. Grant hadn’t taken his narrowed gaze off her, and the hatred that glittered in his eyes made her stomach knot, but there was no way she could reassure him. She was acting for all she was worth, clinging to Turego and babbling her head off, telling him how frightened she’d been and how this madman had knocked her out and stolen her away from the plantation, all the while clinging to Turego’s shirt as if she couldn’t bear to release him. She had no clear idea of what she was going to do, only that somehow she had to stay unfettered so she could help Grant, and to do that she had to win Turego’s trust and soothe his wounded vanity.
The entire situation was balanced on a knife edge; things could go in either direction. Wariness was in Turego’s dark eyes, as well as a certain amount of cruel satisfaction in having cornered his prey. He wanted to make her suffer for having eluded him, she knew, yet for the moment she was safe from any real harm, because he still wanted the microfilm. It was Grant whose life was threatened, and it would take only a word from Turego for those men to kill him where he stood. Grant had to know it, yet there wasn’t even a flicker of fear in his expression, only the cold, consuming hatred of his glare as he stared at Jane. Perhaps it was that, in the end, that eased Turego’s suspicions somewhat. He would never relax his guard around her again, but Jane could only worry about one thing at a time. Right now, she had to protect Grant in any way she could.
Turego’s arm stole around her waist, pulling her tightly against him. He bent his head and kissed her, a deeply intimate kiss that Jane had to steel herself not to resist in any way, even though she shuddered at having to endure the touch and taste of him. She knew what he was doing; he was illustrating his power, his control, and using her as a weapon against Grant. When he lifted his head, a cruel little smile was on his handsome mouth.
“I have you now, chiquita,” he reassured her in a smooth tone. “You are quite safe. This…madman, as you called him, will not bother you again, I promise. I am impressed,” he continued mockingly, inclining his head toward Grant. “I have heard of you, señor. Surely there can be only one with the yellow eyes and scarred face, who melts through jungles like a silent cat. You are a legend, but it was thought that you were dead. It has been a long time since anything was heard of you.”
Grant was silent, his attention now on Turego, ignoring Jane as if she no longer existed. Not a muscle moved; it was as if he’d turned to stone. He wasn’t even breathing. His utter stillness was unnerving, yet there was also the impression of great strength under control, a wild animal waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. Even though he was only one against many, the others were like jackals surrounding a mighty tiger; the men who held their weapons trained on him were visibly nervous.
“Perhaps it would be interesting to know who now pays you for your services. And there are others who would like very much to have an opportunity to question you, yes? Tie him, and put him in the truck,” Turego ordered, still keeping his arm around Jane. She forced herself not to watch as Grant was roughly bound and dragged over to a two-ton military-type truck, with a canvas top stretched over the back. Instead she gave Turego her most dazzling smile and leaned her head on his shoulder.
“I’ve been so frightened,” she whispered.
