Charades (22 page)

     The car slowed to a stop at the main house. No sooner had Wulf stepped out, than the driver left in a storm of gravel and stones.

     Wulf surveyed the large Spanish-style
hacienda
with its terra-cotta brick paving stones, white adobe walls, and red tiled roof. If they wouldn’t let him in, he had a very long walk back, he thought, waiting impatiently for someone to allow him entrance. After ten minutes, he was
summoned
, going through still another gate with more guards with more automatic weapons, until he found himself in a patio garden with profusely blooming flowers and decorative, native vegetation.

     An exceptionally handsome man with distinguished silver streaks at his temples stepped from the main house to greet him, the first man he’d seen here without the ubiquitous, reflective, dark glasses. Dressed in a suit and tie, his jacket draped over his shoulders in the manner of many Europeans, the man held out his hand to Wulf.

     “Señor Rheinhart! Allow me to welcome you to our humble
casa
. I am Alberto Fuentes, Mercedes’s uncle,” he said, clasping Wulf’s large hand in both of his expertly manicured ones. “I am so sorry for any inconvenience we have caused you. It is my sincere hope that you will let us make it up to you by being our guest along with my niece. We are so happy to finally meet her. She is a fortunate young woman to have such an important man like yourself as her
novio
. But, please. Join us in the main
sala
. We were just having refreshments. May I offer you a drink?”

     Alberto was not only indecently handsome, he spoke fluent, polished English.

     “I’ll have a lemonade, thank you. I’ve already had lunch,” Wulf said in perfectly accented Spanish.

     Alberto’s eyebrows raised slightly as he smiled at Wulf. He snapped his fingers over his shoulder to a hovering servant. Alberto led Wulf past several other guards before they reached the main room.

     From her position on one of the couches, Mercy looked up at him with a silent plea on her pinched, tense face. Her posture looked relaxed, but he noticed how tight her hands were clasped. The knuckles gleamed white, and her olive-skinned face was pale yellow. She was afraid and trying very hard not to show it.

     As Alberto introduced him to the rest of the family, Wulf mentally girded himself.

     “This is my son, Juan Carlos,” Alberto began, “my brother Miguel, and his two sons, Alejandro and Augustino.”

     The resemblance among the men was nothing short of astonishing. They all had classic Latino features and coloring, approximately the same build, and even similar hand gestures. Alberto and Miguel were the most alike, almost twins except for the fact that Alberto had more silver at his temples than Miguel.

     “When the rest of the family gathers tonight to celebrate, we will talk more. For now, Señor Rheinhart, why not tell us a little bit about yourself. As Mercedes’s male relatives, you understand, it is our right and duty to protect her interests.”

     “Of course. I’d expect nothing less,” Wulf conceded, nodding at Alberto and smiling at Mercy, hoping his look reassured her.

     “First, let me greet my fiancée,” Wulf said, walking over to Mercy and leaning down. He kissed her circumspectly on the cheek, daring to whisper a German endearment meant only for her ears. “
Ich liebe dich
.”

     She blinked up at him, her color returning somewhat and her fingers loosening just a little. Hang in there, he silently entreated her.

     Mercy’s nerves finally got a rest as she spent the next hour observing and listening to the men as they discussed the oil business in Mexico. Out of consideration for her, Alberto insisted they speak in English, but it didn’t make any difference. They never invited her into their conversation.

     With a growing sense of discomfort, Mercy watched and listened, marveling at how Wulf could be as glib as her uncle’s. Would she ever truly know him? One thing she did know. She needed to talk with him, and soon.

     She felt too uneasy at the moment however, particularly around this side of her family. They were polite and gracious enough, but there was just something
too
practiced,
too
ingenuous,
too
slick about them.

     At least she was beginning to be able to tell when Wulf was acting and when he wasn’t. Right now he was acting. His naked expression of anxiety and caring, right before he’d turned and blandly began talking with her uncles, was a reassuring beacon of hope. After this episode in her life, she didn’t think she’d ever believe a person’s surface politeness again.

     The sun was at its peak when Alberto decided they should adjourn for a siesta and meet back in the main room later that afternoon. With a conspiratorial wink at Wulf and Mercy, he suggested, “Why don’t you two lovebirds go for a walk down by our private beach? It’s cooler down there with the breeze right off the bay of Acapulco. There’s also a gazebo on the pier to sit and talk.”

     Mercy nodded agreement, but there was no need to convince Wulf. He guided her quickly down the trail to the stairs behind the villa. As soon as they reached the first landing out of sight of the house, he pulled her into his arms. Like a man dying of thirst, he drank from her lips, devouring her in his raging need to hold her, taste her, consume her. He felt her slump against him in surrender, her legs crumpling.

     His lips rampaged over her face, covering her with his love and desire. Her touching acquiescence affected him like an addictive drug.

     With a strength born of desperation, Wulf slowly let his hands and arms uncurl from around her, the ache of it actually hurting, his hands shaking. Her lips, so soft and warm, were meant for his plunder, by God, and those lush, full breasts of hers fit perfectly into his hands. Even if God hadn’t designed her just for him, she was his.

     Mercy had no idea until that moment how much she relied on Wulf’s presence to bolster her self-esteem and confidence. Being around the Fuentes had scared her in a way she’d never felt before. There was something menacing about them. With Wulf there, however, she felt safe and protected.

     It took a moment or two for Mercy to come back into focus when he pulled slightly away from her. “Will it always be like this?” she asked breathlessly, looking up at the strain and desire on his face.

     “Yes. It will,” he said, cupping his hands around her face.

     She leaned her head into his chest and took a big breath. “I wish I had more control, but I can’t seem to help it. When I’m with you, I want you so much it hurts. It’s madness.”

     Wulf tightened his arms around her. While he’d never doubted his feelings for her, he knew that since Sachsenhausen she’d been emotionally closed off. He almost thought he’d lost her entirely. But no. The sexual attraction between them flared as strong and bright as before, maybe more. Anton had been right about it being a powerful force between a man and a woman.

     “I heard what you said behind my back at Adolph’s right after I left the room. I want you to know I don’t think you were telling the truth to Adolph about keeping the money for yourself. You couldn’t be the way you were describing yourself, otherwise you’d never have come for me. I…”

     “Good God, Mercy!” Wulf pulled away from her in shock. “How could you believe something like that of me? Hell, I would’ve told that old bastard anything to save our lives! Anything!”

     “I know that now,” she said, flushing, “but at the time your words seemed like just another betrayal. I…”

     “
Ach, meine liebling
,” he said, pulling her close to him again, resting his chin on her head. “I would’ve explained, but I didn’t know you’d overheard me.” He tightened his hold on her and laid his cheek on her hair, feeling again the beauty and mystery of loving her.

     If only they could find that damn missing money! They could get rid of it and get on with their lives. Hell, it didn’t matter to him if she was related to Satan himself.

     “Come on, let’s walk down to the beach.” Once on the beach, Wulf forced himself to keep a distance between them.

     “Just how did you wind up here? Not only was your poor grandmother upset when she realized you were missing, but I nearly had a heart attack. Couldn’t you have told someone where you were going?”

     “Uncle Miguel said it wouldn’t matter what I said because Uncle Ramon would try to bad mouth the Fuentes side of the family,” Mercy explained, feeling foolish now that she’d caused so much alarm. “He said Ramon had no security. That’s why he could go over the back wall so easily.”

     “Ramon had plenty of security,” Wulf interrupted. “We found his guards unconscious. They’re lucky they weren’t killed.”

     “Oh,” she faltered, “I didn’t know that. I just assumed…” She shrugged. “When Uncle Miguel asked if I wanted to meet the other side of the family, I decided to go with him. I didn’t want to judge anyone unfairly, and since I knew everyone would object, I left to avoid an argument. He said I could call today and tell you where I was, but by the time I called you, you were on your way here.”

     “Damn right I was,” he growled.

     She smiled. “My uncles are very impressed with you.”

     “I sure as hell didn’t know what I let myself in for when I fell in love with you.”

     “Very funny,” she said, making a face at him.

     “What did your grandmother tell you about the Fuenteses?”

     “Basically that they were involved in illegal activities. I think she’s right. I get the feeling they’re waiting for me to do or say something, but what? Do you think they know about the money?”

     “We’ll just have to wait and see, I guess.”

     “Isn’t it amazing how much my uncles look alike? They both look just like Papa. When I saw Uncle Miguel, I thought he was Papa. I dropped the picture frame I was holding of my mother’s family. I hope it wasn’t a problem to clean it up. The glass scattered everywhere.”

     “Don’t worry about it.” Wulf kept his opinions to himself about her uncles.

     As they walked down the beach, the gazebo on the pier beckoned. Guards holding automatic weapons bristled everywhere, not only on the pier, but also on the large cabin cruiser docked there.

     Suddenly Wulf heard the unmistakable sounds of a helicopter approaching. As it loomed over them, the guard fired off several rounds of automatic fire. The shots were met by staccato fire-bursts from the helicopter. Several more shots sang through the air as sand erupted close by.

     Wulf grabbed Mercy and dragged her under the pier, his heart beating furiously. Damn, the pier was a lousy cover for bullets! He looked around desperately, trying to think. The unmistakable sounds of a speedboat echoed off the cliffs. More reinforcements for the helicopter? The helicopter took one more sweep, scattering bullets in the water instead of the pier, then swinging away in the direction of the main house.

     “Hurry up. We don’t have much time,” Mario yelled as the speedboat pulled up to the pier. Wulf floundered out to the boat pulling Mercy behind them. A member of the crew helped them clamber into the boat.

     “Flatten yourselves on the floor,” Mario shouted over the roar of the engine. He hit the gas and zoomed away toward the open sea. “My father heard the Obregon family was planning a raid,” he quickly explained. “We decided to get the two of you off the mainland ASAP. Lucky thing you had that homing signal in your tooth.” Mario shook his head. “And damned lucky you were on the beach with Mercy. Otherwise, rescue would’ve been a problem.”

     Mercy turned to stare at Wulf. “Your tooth?”

     Wulf nodded. “I agreed to wear a homing signal in my tooth just in case.” His face hardened. If he ever got his hands on Hazel, he was definitely going to strangle her! Mercy shook her head, shock paling her face. Wulf closed his eyes. He had no more excuses or alibis. How would Mercy feel when she knew Hazel was behind this whole adventure?

     Several minutes later, they pulled up to a large pleasure yacht. Ramon helped them board as Mario headed back out to sea. Wulf insisted on carrying Mercy into the cabin when her legs collapsed under her on deck. Once inside, Ramon offered them blankets and showed them into the main room of the yacht.

     “Thank you for coming to get us,” Wulf said, searching Mercy’s face for any signs of shock and thanking God they were both safe. Then he saw the gun Ramon pointed at them.

     “Please, Señor Rheinhart, have a seat.”

      “
Sheistrich
!” Wulf spat.

     Mercy stared at the gun with widened eyes.

     “We all know why you’ve come back to Mexico, Mercy,” Ramon began. “Now, let’s stop all this pretense and get down to business. What has the Fuentes family offered you?”

     “Offered me?” Mercy looked at him blankly.

     Wulf gritted his teeth in fury. He grasped Mercy’s hand in reassurance as she reached for him.

     “Come, come, my dear. Wouldn’t it be better to share it with me than those criminals?”

     “But…” Mercy said, shaking her head and stealing a glance at Wulf.

     “You didn’t intend to take it out of Mexico, did you?”

     “I…”

     “Come, come, where
is
it? Tell me now or Sylvia will be heartbroken to find you were killed before we could rescue you. Such a shame, don’t you agree? She so wanted to spend more time with you.”

     The look in Ramon’s eyes reminded Wulf of Adolph, cold and implacable.

     “How can you do this to me?” Mercy demanded. “I’m your grandniece, for God’s sake!”

     “It is simple, my dear. Money. I know for a fact that Pedro knew where the money was before he left Mexico. It was my guess that he hid it somewhere here in Mexico, but I have never been able to find it. I cannot tell you how delighted I was when you came.”

     “But I don’t know
anything
about the damned money!”

     “Don’t play me for a fool,” Ramon said in an icy voice.

     “But…”

     “Breeding always tells.” Ramon curled his lip at her in distaste. “I’ve never forgiven Sylvia for poisoning our blood-line with Carlos Fuentes. Your father wasn’t any better than the rest of them.”