Dangerous Pursuit (The Protectors) (22 page)

“He’ll be there as a joker and he wants you to wear the costume he sent in the package and bring the book.” Brock fingered the box that accompanied the note.

“Should we? This ball may not be a safe place to exchange something like that.”

“I certainly don’t want to leave it behind. We each will take half of the book pages. Since they’re small, we can conceal them easily.” 

“Why a carnival ball with so many people around?”

“I guess your brother feels safer in a crowd of merrymakers. He might be right.”

Soon everything would be over with. She would be able to return to New Orleans in a day or two. The prospect of seeing Mark again relieved her, but the prospect of saying good-bye to Brock depressed her. By the end of the week, she would be placing orders for her store and recommending books to her customers. Why wasn’t she more excited about returning to her normal, safe life where she knew what to expect?

* * *

The crowd of merrymakers, all dressed in various outlandish costumes, pressed in on Samantha as she scanned the people, trying to find a joker.

“Nothing." Disappointed she settled back on her three-inch heels.

She was still astonished at the outfit her brother had sent her. She wasn’t even sure she should call it a costume, it was so scant. She felt definitely underdressed in her harem attire, and she was going to give her brother a piece of her mind when she did catch up with him—after hugging him and making sure he was all right.

“We're early. The ball has just started, Sam.”

“I couldn’t stand to wait another minute in that hotel room.” In truth Samantha couldn’t stand to be so near Brock and not be able to tell him she loved him and know it would lead to a permanent relationship.

“Give your brother time. He’s probably waiting for the ball to get into full swing.”

Brock stood next to her, dressed in a pirate’s costume. When he had returned to their room and shown it to her, he had said he couldn’t pass it up, knowing she would appreciate it.

“What if something has happened to him? What if we can’t find him in this crowd? I can’t believe he suggested a carnival ball. It’s worse than I thought. It’s chaos.” She tried to keep her voice from sounding frantic, but she didn’t think she was doing a very good job.

“I think that’s the reason your brother set up this meeting place. It’s easy to get lost in a crowd of half-drunk people.”

For another fifteen minutes they both looked around for Mark, but when they had seen every costume imaginable but a joker, Brock said, “I’ll scout out the garden. I’ve noticed people going outside. Stay put and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Samantha nodded absently, for her attention was trained on the entrance. Another horde of revelers was coming into the ballroom. In the midst of the new arrivals there was a joker, and Samantha’s heart leapt at the sight. When the joker looked her way, she waved at him from across the room and caught his attention. He waved back and motioned for her to follow him.

A mass of people stood between them, and it took quite a while for Samantha to weave her way across the ballroom. At first she couldn’t see Mark, and then she spied him near an entrance off the ballroom. Her gaze was fixed on her brother as he disappeared down a hallway, and she followed him as quickly as possible, determined not to lose him.

He went into a room, signaling at the doorway for her to hurry. When she turned the knob, she finally realized that Brock wasn’t behind her and that she was completely alone. Brock had the other half of the book.

That was okay. She’d explain to Mark, then go find Brock. She stepped into the deserted looking room. Where was Mark?

Bewildered, she was turning around to leave when the lights went out, the door slammed close behind her, and a hand smothered her scream, cutting off her breath. Her lungs started burning as she struggled against the large body, trying to inhale some air. With her legs kicking the shins of the man who held her captive, she bit down hard on the soft flesh of his palm.

  Carlos—Samantha could tell it was him—muttered a few curse words but retained a tight hold on her struggling body. “Where’s the book? I know your brother gave it to you.” He tried to lock her against him while searching her body.

Suddenly the door burst open, and the man was pulled away from her, his huge body thrown against the wall. She raced toward the door and the light switch. Flipping it on, she whirled to find Brock pounding his fist into Carlos’s jaw. He slumped forward and collapsed to the marble floor.

Samantha hurried across the room, throwing herself into Brock’s arms. “Where have you been?” she asked laughingly between kisses.

“Taking care of Paul in the garden. He followed me outside and jumped me when I was alone.”

Samantha pulled back and examined Brock’s face. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he murmured, his mouth slowly descending toward hers. “And you?”

“I’m fine.” Her lips whispered across his once, then again.

“Well, well. What has happened here, Sis? I came to rescue you and everything’s been taken care of.”

Samantha pivoted to face her brother, who was lounging nonchalantly against the doorframe, smiling, a gleam in his eyes. Her hands flew to her waist, and she took several steps toward him, anger and relief fighting for supremacy.

Anger won. “You’ve come to rescue me! What have you been doing all this time?”

Mark shoved himself away from the door, his grin wiped from his face as he backed away from her. “My intention at the beginning of this whole mess was to leave Brazil and wait until Carlos got tired of looking for me. But everywhere I turned, Carlos or his men were there. I went into hiding. Then I found out from your assistant in New Orleans that you were in Manaus with the book from the mission, and I saw an opportunity to set this all up to catch Carlos. I knew until he was captured none of us would be safe.”

“You used me and didn’t tell me?”

“I couldn’t without tipping him off to the trap. Believe me, I didn’t want to use you as a pawn, and I certainly didn’t like the idea. But, Sam, when you came down here, you put yourself into the middle of a hornet’s nest.”

“Mark Prince, I should—”

“I’m Brock Slader. I gather you’re Samantha’s brother,” Brock said in amusement as he reached around her to offer Mark his hand.

“Yes. I want to thank you for helping Sam out.” Mark shook Brock’s hand, looking definitely relieved that Brock had interrupted Samantha’s tirade. “These last few weeks have been a nightmare. I was finally able to reach a friend who could arrange this trap.”

“Who are these men?” Brock laid a comforting hand on Samantha’s shoulder and pulled her back against him.

Mark pointed to Carlos on the floor. “He’s a major at a military outpost in the Amazon, so therefore the situation was a delicate one. I had to make sure I solicited the right kind of help. Gold makes men greedy. I had to wait until my friend returned from an assignment in the Amazon.”

Behind Mark were three Brazilian policemen, ready to take Carlos into custody. Samantha watched as the major, regained consciousness and the policemen dragged him to his feet and took him out of the room. Obviously Mark’s friend was able to arrange the “right” kind of assistance.

“His cohort is in the garden,” Brock said.

“He’s being taken care of right now.” Mark looked from Brock to his sister. “Sam, am I forgiven for getting you into this mess? At the time you were the only one I could turn to for help. I thought I could get out of the country and be in New Orleans to reassure you in person that I hadn’t gotten in too deep. As it turned out, things weren’t that easy. I underestimated the Major’s influence.”

When Mark flashed her his smile that he knew she could never resist, her anger melted completely, and only her relief that he was alive and safe remained. “How could I stay mad at you when you added such spice to my life? Just don’t do it again.”

“You’re both entitled to an explanation after I take care of some details with the police. I’ll meet you back at your hotel in an hour and retrieve the book then.”

After her brother left, the silence was fraught with tension. Everything would be fine with her brother, and now it was time to move on with her life. Samantha didn’t want this moment to happen. She squeezed her eyes shut and wished for the impossible.

“Sam?”

Her heart thudded against her chest. Her breath came out raggedly. She knew what Brock was going to say.

He turned her around to face him, and she stared up into his eyes with an appealing look. “Sam, I have to..." He swallowed hard. "Let’s go back to the hotel and wait for your brother. We’ll talk later.”

They both were postponing the inevitable, but Samantha would take every minute granted her. She nodded, wanting to reach up and cup his face, enticing him to kiss her. Instead, she turned and headed for the door and the hotel—and eventually that talk.

At the hotel, Samantha paced one side of the room while Brock prowled the other, avoiding any physical contact. But when she occasionally looked at Brock, she found him looking back at her. Tension gnawed at her nerves until she couldn’t stand the silence any longer.

“What are you going to do after Mark arrives?” she asked, stopping in the middle of the room.

He pivoted to face her, his eyes dull. “It depends.”

“On what?”

“On your brother.”

“Don’t worry. You’ve earned your ten percent. Mark will fulfill the promise I made to you.”

“You’re very sure of your brother.”

“I told you we were very close.”

His gaze drilled into her. “It’s not the money or the gold I’m concerned about. It’s you. I want to make sure he’s going to be around.” He attempted a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “After all, you don’t know how to speak the language.”

Her heartbeat slowed to a painful throb. “I can take care of myself. If that’s all that’s keeping you here, then please go. I’ll make sure Mark gets your share to you for your oil deal.” She held her head at a proud angle, her body rigid.

Brock ran his fingers through his hair repeatedly while his gaze remained linked to hers. “Sam—this isn’t easy.”

Good, she thought, because it was tearing her up inside. In the back of her mind she had hoped when this moment arrived he would change his mind and return to New Orleans with her. From the beginning there had been a part of her, which hadn’t accepted that a person would prefer this life to the one she lived. 

“It just wouldn’t work between us, Sam.”

She'd noticed he was back to calling her Sam, which made it clear where she stood with him. “I see we’re back to Sam again.” She tried to inject some lightness into her voice.

“We’re from two different worlds.”

“Oh, do you come from someplace I don’t know about?” Her question came out in a strained voice, and she swallowed to ease her dry throat.

In two strides he was in front of her. “Making light of it isn’t going to work. You know what I mean and I believe you agree with me.”

With wide, shimmering eyes, she stared up into his endearing face. “Yes, I do agree with you. I can’t even stand here and fight with you over it. These past two weeks have been unreal.” Finally she reached up and framed his face with her trembling hands. “A wonderful, thrilling adventure, but not real. My reality is New Orleans and my bookstore. Yours is this place or some other place like it.”

He covered her hands with his own. “If I hadn’t lived in your world, I’d be sorely tempted to give it a try. But I have, and I know what it would do to me.” He twisted his head to kiss the palm of her hand. “Good-bye, Samantha. Tell your brother if he wants to get in touch with me I’ll be staying at the Grand Hotel for the next few days.”

“Then where?”

He stepped back, holding her hands in his. “Who knows?”

For one static moment he looked deep into her eyes. Then he left.

“I love you, Brock Slader,” Samantha whispered to the empty room.

* * *

“What do you think of this one, Samantha?”

“Another trip, Mrs. Carson?” Samantha looked up from arranging some books on the shelf, remembering their conversation two months before and how she had wished she could go away to someplace warm. Boy, had she.

“You guessed it.” The older woman handed Samantha the book she was thinking of buying.

“Not enough adventure,” Samantha immediately replied. “Dull.” Like her life lately, she added silently, not really surprised at the admission. 

In the six weeks since she had returned from the Amazon, she had pretended everything was back to normal, that she was happy and content with her secure life that rarely had anything unexpected happen. But she couldn’t kid herself. There was nothing normal about pacing her living room every night, wondering what Brock was doing at the moment, or sitting at the store counter staring into space, lost in a dream world of green plants, humidity, and heat. She had gone into the jungle dependent on Brock. When they had come out of the jungle, they had been dependent on each other. It had been a time for change and growth in a different direction for her, and she hadn’t completely realized that until she had returned to her normal, real world.

“I think I’ll look for a book full of romance. Any suggestions?” Mrs. Carson asked, interrupting Samantha’s thoughts.

Yes, memoirs of her trip to the jungle, if there was such a book, Samantha was tempted to say, remembering herself standing with Brock at the waterfall, embracing, kissing. The raw beauty of the Amazon had been reflected in the raw emotions between them.

“Try this one,” she finally answered, taking a new romantic saga off the shelf in front of her. She hadn’t read it, but several of her customers had enjoyed it. Before, she would never have thought to recommend a book she hadn’t personally read, but like other things in her life since the Amazon, that had changed too.

Mrs. Carson read the back cover, flipped through the first pages of the book, and said, “Thanks. I think I will. I’ve been so busy this last month that I haven’t had a chance to ask you how your vacation was last month. Nell told me you went south.”