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Her head whipped toward him. “How do you know—?”
His hand tightened on hers, and he clamped down on her sentence before she could give anything away. “How did I know you were here, honey bee? A combination of detective work and luck.” He raised his voice and addressed Sanchez. “You weren’t really going to shoot my lady love, were you, you old devil?”
“I was still weighing the pros and cons.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“There was always the chance that a last-minute reprieve might loosen her tongue.”
Marissa made a strangled sound.
They were approaching the stretch of jungle that separated the hacienda from the military complex. Miguel turned onto a hard-packed dirt road that wound past banana trees, tall ferns and countless jungle plants Jed couldn’t name. They were all swaying wildly, raining leaves down on the jeep. And the sky was black as midnight. Jed expected the rain to begin pelting them any second.
When Sanchez leaned forward and picked up a portable phone, Jed pressed his fingers tightly over Marissa’s.
She looked at him and nodded. And he knew she was functioning on a higher level. She understood that while the other man’s attention was focused on giving orders for their reception, they had partial privacy. Still, Jed took the precaution of keeping his tone light and garrulous. “Don’t let him fool you into thinking he’s harmless.”
She glanced toward the front seat. “I won’t.”
In the dim light he turned her face toward him. “Did he hurt you?” he whispered.
“Not physically.”
He let out the breath he’d been holding. “You were in the prison complex in Santa Isabella?”
“Yes. In solitary confinement. I didn’t see a living soul until two men brought me here yesterday.”
Jed glanced up to see that Miguel was staring at them intently in the mirror again. Probably he’d only used the phone call to see what they would do when they thought his attention was elsewhere.
Just then they emerged from the forest. The wind suddenly died and the sun came out again. A good omen, Jed told himself, wishing he believed in omens.
They headed for a high adobe wall softened with festoons of blooming purple and orange bougainvillea. But the metal gate was all business. Jed watched as Sanchez pressed a remote control that slid the barrier open, interested to find that security had become more automated since his time. The modernization could be helpful if they had to make an unexpected getaway. Electronic devices could be disabled.
However, when they passed the dog kennel, his hopeful thoughts turned gloomy. Electronics were one thing. The pack of Dobermans that patrolled the grounds at night was another thing altogether.
The barking of the Dobermans stabbed through the last of the fog shrouding Marissa’s brain. She gave Jed a quick sideways glance, marveling that he could appear so calm. Trying to follow his example, she sat up straighter and looked around, aware of her surroundings with a sudden aching clarity. The sun had come out from behind the clouds, and the whitewashed walls of the hacienda were bathed in the warm afternoon light. The wind had died to a gentle whisper. And she wasn’t dead.
When she shuddered, Jed’s arm tightened around her, and she had the uncanny sensation that he understood what she was feeling.
She looked down, hoping he wasn’t reading everything in her mind. For her own equanimity she struggled to rationalize what had happened between them out there on the field—or more specifically what had happened to her. His part was easy enough to grasp. He was a normal man. She’d tumbled into his embrace, and he’d taken advantage of the situation.
But she’d behaved in a manner that was so totally alien that she could only explain it one way: she’d been living in a nightmare that would end with her own death, and just when she’d lost all hope, Jed had come charging to her rescue. She’d been so off balance that she’d let herself feel things she’d been afraid of for years. Particularly with him. Convulsively, she knit her hands together. Perhaps holding tight to her own flesh could bring back the perfect control she’d relied on for so long.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, and she wondered if he was still following her thoughts.
“Umm.” With Jed’s thigh pressed against hers and his grip firmly on her shoulder, it was impossible to think clearly, but she clamped down hard on her instinctive urge to pull away. She knew Sanchez was watching, and they had to keep playing by the script Jed had tossed her.
He’d told the general that they were engaged! How were they ever going to pull it off? How could they possibly act as if they were madly in love? As if they were lovers? Contemplating that led to memories of his kiss, which made her heart lurch inside her chest. Perhaps the most disturbing thing of all was that she still felt a tingle of awareness between them like a humming electric current. It had started when he’d kissed her, and she wanted to pretend it wasn’t there. But she was coming to realize she couldn’t wish it away.