Summer Vows (Arabesque) (18 page)

One of Jacob’s eyebrows lifted questioningly. “You can’t be that naïve. You don’t believe that whenever a man shows an interest in you he wants something?”

“Why can’t they just want me for me?”

“That’s an age-old question not too many people can answer.”

“What about you, Jacob? If we’d met under a different set of circumstances what would you want from me?”

Jacob pointed to the middle of her chest. “Your heart. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

Ana’s expression changed, growing serious, and she becoming increasingly uneasy under his steady gaze. Sunlight filtering through the leaves of the ancient trees cast long and short shadows over his handsome face. “That’s it?”

“What else is there, Princess? I don’t want or need your money. I’ll never be able to match your earning power, but I make enough to support myself, a wife and children, if and when I decide to marry. I don’t want fame, and if I need sex I know who I can call for that.”

“So, you’d cheat on me, too.”

“No, baby. I wouldn’t cheat on you. Once I commit I’d never think of sleeping with another woman.”

Her eyelids fluttered wildly. “How do you know that if you’ve never been married?”

“Because I’m too much like the Jones men in my family. We don’t cheat on our wives.”

“Look me up ten years from now and I’ll ask you whether you’ve cheated on your wife. If you haven’t, then you’ll restore my faith in the opposite sex.”

Jacob shook his head. He didn’t want to believe a couple of indiscretions had soured Ana on men. Not all men were liars, cheaters, deadbeat dads, physically or verbally abusive. Most went to work, collected their paychecks, made love to their wives and loved and protected their children. That’s how he’d been raised and that is what he would do
if
he ever married.

“Make it two years,
m’ija.
”

“Two years it is,
m’ijo.
”

Jacob sealed their promise with a kiss that left both of them breathing heavily and fighting for control of emotions and hormones that were running amuck. He could feel Ana’s heartbeat keeping tempo with his own, and he knew if they didn’t get out of the hammock he would beg her to let him make love to her where anyone could see them.

“I think it’s time we go inside before we embarrass ourselves.”

Ana nodded. “I agree.”

Chapter 10

J
acob’s cell phone rang and he went still. It was Diego’s ring tone. Hopefully his friend was calling with good news. If they’d caught the shooter, then his time with Ana would be over. Just when he was getting used to her mercurial moods she would leave. He excused himself and walked off the enclosed back porch where he’d spent the past two hours with his uncle watching a baseball game between the Marlins and Giants.

He tapped a button. “What’s up?”

“Where are you, Jake?”

All of his senses were now on full alert. “I’m at my uncle’s house in Key West. Why?”

“I’m having the jet fueled as we speak. I need you to get to the Marathon airport within the next two hours. Henri will meet you. He’ll have Ana’s passport.”

“Where are we going?”

“You know that private island I bought in the Bahamas for investment purposes.”

“What about it?” Jacob asked.”

“Well, you’re going to live there for a while.”

“What changed?” He couldn’t believe he sounded so calm when his heart was pumping painfully in his chest.

“We managed to bug Irvine’s girlfriend’s apartment. Our man told us she also worked at Slow Wyne.”

“Worked?” Jacob noticed Diego had used the past tense.

“Apparently someone discovered the bug but not before the investigators recorded his pillow-talk confession. He claimed next time his person wasn’t going to miss.”

“Did he mention Ana’s name?”

“No. What we were able to record was him saying, ‘that bitch at Serenity.’”

“Do you know who uncovered the bug?”

“Not yet.” There came a pause. “Her body was found in the desert earlier this morning with a single gunshot to the head and her tongue cut out. The police haven’t released her name pending next of kin, but our man has a reliable contact with the LAPD who identified her as Camille Nelson. Apparently she was an exotic dancer in her former life.”

Jacob swore under his breath. Unfortunately the woman had become collateral damage. “What do you want me to tell Ana?”

“Tell her I’m meeting with the cotton broker in Uganda and I can’t get away to take care of some problems at the resort. I’d like you to convince her that the two of you are going undercover as a couple, and that I need her to evaluate staff performance of the front desk, room service and the kitchen. I’ve already made reservations in the names of Mr. and Mrs. Jacob Jones. I told the manager you’re family, so you won’t be billed for anything. Meanwhile the investigators are going to step up the pressure on Irvine. We have to take down this sick sonofabitch before there’s another murder.”

There was edge in Diego’s voice Jacob had never heard before. “It appears as if Irvine and/or his people are playing for keeps. Killing that girl execution style and cutting out her tongue is sending a message to anyone thinking of diming Irvine out. The man has to be psychopathic if he’d ordered a hit on a woman he was sleeping with. Do whatever you have to do to take him down, Diego.”

That said, he ended the call and walked back to the porch. He sat down next to Ray. “Ana and I have to leave.”

Ray removed his glasses and sat up straight. “Now?”

Jacob nodded. “Yes. My friend is sending his jet to pick us up at the Marathon airport.”

“Can you tell me where you’re going?”

“It’s a private island in the Caribbean.”

Ray stood up. “What the hell is going on?”

“I wish I knew, Uncle Ray.” Jacob hugged him. “I’ll be in touch when we get back.”

“You tell your girlfriend she still owes me a duet.”

“I’ll let her know. Tell Mattie I’ll see her the next time I come down.”

Jacob was practically running when he took the stairs two at a time. Opening the door to the bedroom, he stood motionless, staring at the bed. Ana hadn’t turned off the lamp on his side of the bed.

He knew he wasn’t able to become actively involved in the investigation to identify the shooter. However, it had been different with Vivienne Cole-Thomas. Her late husband, a U.S. congressman had been killed in a hit-and-run. As the southeast regional supervisory deputy for the United States Marshal Service Jacob had worked closely with Vivienne to apprehend those behind the conspiracy responsible for the congressman’s murder.

He hadn’t hesitated when Diego asked him to step in and protect his cousin, but his friend had upped the ante because now they had to pretend to be married. Jacob wanted to tell Diego that he and Ana couldn’t be any more married. They were living together and sharing a bed. All that was needed was a license, exchange of vows and consummating the union.

Jacob had had liaisons with women—some brief and others longer than he’d expected, yet none of the women affected him in the way Ana did. It hadn’t been a week since she’d walked out of the terminal at the Marathon airport and somehow she’d managed to disrupt his very predictable lifestyle. And much to his surprise it had become a most welcome disruption.

He approached the bed and sat down. Ana’s eyelids fluttered before they opened and she stared at him. “I tried waiting up for you. What happened?”

Jacob nuzzled the side of her neck. He wanted to tell her the game was on the West Coast, so it didn’t start until late. “You smell good.” He knew he was stalling for time.

“You didn’t answer my question, Jacob. What took you so long?”

“You’re going to have to get up and get dressed.”

With wide eyes, she sat up. “Where are we going?”

He repeated what Diego had told him, deliberately withholding the information Diego had told about the body in the desert. Jacob suspected he wanted Ana out of the country before she saw news footage about Basil Irvine’s girlfriend’s murder.

“We’re going down tonight.”

“Is it that critical?” she asked.

“Diego believes it is. He’s invested too much in this venture to have it fail.”

Ana swung her legs over the side of the bed. “I suppose I’d better get dressed and packed.”

She’d shocked him again. Jacob hadn’t expected her to accept the justification for their unexpected departure from the Keys to the Bahamas without balking or further questioning. He rarely, if ever, lied, but apparently Ana either believed him or she’d reached the point in their relationship where she’d begun to trust him unconditionally.

* * *

Reaching for Jacob’s hand, Ana held it tightly when the jet began its descent into Cannamore Cay. She didn’t like flying at night, and especially with the aircraft landing on an island runway in the Caribbean. The island was made up of three hundred and sixty acres.

She closed her eyes, counting slowly. When Diego had disclosed that he’d bought an uninhabited island in the Bahamas she’d given him a look that spoke volumes because ColeDiz hadn’t needed another vacation property. Then her cousin explained that Cannamore Cay wouldn’t fall under the control of the family-owned conglomerate, but that he’d purchased it as a legacy for his children.

When Diego’s driver met her and Jacob at the Marathon airport, Henri had handed Ana her passport. It was apparent her parents knew she was leaving the country because her official documents were stored in a safe at their house. They were driven to Jacob’s Miami apartment where he’d retrieved his passport, then they were back in the air on their way to Cannamore Cay.

She opened her eyes as runway lights came into view and Ana felt as if she’d been holding her breath until the wheels to the sleek Gulfstream G550 touched the macadam, landing smoothly as if gliding on an icy surface.

“You can let go of my hand now,” Jacob said in her ear. She was certain her nails would leave half-moon impressions on his skin.

Ana removed her hand. She stared at Henri who’d reclined his seat into a bed within seconds of takeoff and now was seated in the upright position when the voice of the pilot filled the cabin asking them to prepare for landing. When the taciturn driver/bodyguard met them at the Marathon airport he’d revealed that he would accompany her and Jacob to the Bahamas, go with them to the resort and then return to the jet for the flight back to West Palm Beach.

The jet came to a complete stop and the copilot emerged from the cockpit to lower the steps. Whenever she had flown in the company jet it had been with a crew that included the pilot, copilot and one or two attendants. Tonight there were no attendants, just an armed bodyguard. Jacob told her he’d left his handgun in a safe in his apartment, and had only brought his passport, shield and photo ID.

A limousine bearing the logo of the island resort on the passenger-side doors waited as they disembarked. Henri and Jacob transferred their luggage from the jet to the trunk of the limo and minutes later they were seated inside the luxury vehicle and heading toward the resort that had taken more than two years to complete.

Henri closed the partition separating the rear of the limo from the driver. He handed Jacob an envelope, then ring boxes. “Starting now you’re Mr. and Mrs. Jacob Stephen Jones. The envelope contains a valid marriage license.” He held up a hand when Ana opened her mouth. “Please let me finish, Mrs. Jones,” he urged in French-accented English. “Mr. Cole-Thomas arranged everything, including your marriage in absentia. If you have any questions, then you will have to ask him once you return to the States. He told me to tell you that the marriage is legal and binding, and he’ll also arrange to annul it.” He nodded to Jacob. “Mr. Jones, I suggest you put your rings on now.”

Ana closed her eyes, unable to believe what Diego had concocted. There was no doubt her cousin had instructed his bodyguard to wait until they were on the ground in the Bahamas to mention the sham of a wedding. Diego had to know she would’ve never agreed to a marriage of convenience if he’d presented it to her before their abrupt departure.

Controlling and dictatorial; the two words didn’t begin to describe the CEO of ColeDiz. Her hand was trembling noticeably when Jacob reached for her left hand and slipped an unadorned platinum band on her third finger. He handed her his, and she repeated the gesture with the matching band. Ana didn’t want to ask Henri how Diego had gotten their ring sizes because his answer would only add to her annoyance as to Diego’s intrusion into her life. Had he, she mused, even spoken to her parents about his plan, or had he come up with it on his own?

A slight gasp escaped her parted lips, and she temporarily forgot about being Mrs. Jones when a two-storied structure appeared, as if growing from the earth. Abundant plantings around the main house and smaller matching structures claimed the ocean as their playground. Even in the dark Ana recognized the exquisite architectural lines reminiscent of the grand plantations built under British Colonial rule.

The driver maneuvered into a circular drive, got out and opened the rear door. Henri alighted first, then Ana, and finally Jacob. Flanked by the two men, she walked to the entrance with automatic sliding doors. The lobby was an indoor oasis with potted palms, trees and baskets of hanging orchids and other exotic flowers growing in wild abandon. A waterfall took up an entire wall, the sound of water flowing over rocks and into a large pool with schools of colorful fish was visually hypnotic.

The colors of white and sea-foam green predominated, contrasting with white wicker sofas, love seats, chairs with seat cushions and accent pillows in the calming green hue. A white concert piano was positioned nearby in an area with a built-in bar and a dozen small round tables with pull-up chairs.

A pale, middle-aged man wearing crisp white slacks and a green floral shirt with large white leaves came over to greet them. The green was the same shade as the seat cushions. Ana bit back a smile. There was no doubt Jacob would feel quite at home at the resort with his colorful print shirts.

He inclined his head. “Good evening. I’m Shanley Osgood, resident manager of Cannamore,” he announced in a clipped British accent. He extended his hand to Jacob. “Welcome, Mr. Jones. Mr. Cole-Thomas told me you were coming with your wife.” He smiled at Ana. “Welcome, Mrs. Jones.” He then nodded to Henri. “Sir.”

Henri inclined his shaved head. “Shanley.”

“I’ve taken the liberty of giving Mr. and Mrs. Jones the guest cottage near the garden. Will you need assistance bringing in their luggage?” he asked Henri.

“I believe your driver and I can manage,” Henri replied.

Shanley ran a hand over his neatly brushed salt-and-pepper hair, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know you want to settle into your rooms, but I had the chef prepare a little repast just in case you wanted something to eat. The kitchen staff is available around the clock, so if you want or need anything just pick up the phone and dial the operator.”

Jacob curved an arm around Ana’s waist. “My wife and I are looking forward to some rest and relaxation.”

“This is what Cannamore is known for,” Shanley said with a practiced smile. “We do have a number of amenities you may take advantage of. There’s a golf course and several boats available if you wish to go sailing. And of course there is gear if you wish to go snorkeling or scuba diving. Most of our guests request anonymity, and every staff member adheres to that rule.”

Ana and Jacob shared a smile. “Thank you, Mr. Osgood.”

“You’re welcome, Mrs. Jones. If you’re ready I’ll show you to your cottage.”

She held on to Jacob’s hand as they followed the manager outside of the main house and along a lighted path to the cottage partially concealed behind an outcropping of trees. The fragrant smell of flowers and ripening fruit mingling with salt water wafted in the night air.

Shanley handed Jacob two card keys. “Our housekeeping staff will not enter your bungalow if your doors are locked. If you need housekeeping you may leave it unlocked or hang the placard on the handle outside the door.” He affected a slight bow. “Again I welcome you to Cannamore Cay.”

Waiting until the manager retreated the way they’d come, Jacob swept Ana up in his arms. “Well, Mrs. Jones. Are you ready to be carried over the threshold?”

Her arms went around his neck. “I didn’t know you were so traditional, Mr. Jones,” she crooned.

Smiling, Jacob kissed her nose. “You just don’t know the half,
m’ija
.”