A Man to Remember (13 page)

She looked down at her hands. She was grasping the simple wooden box and duffel bag with clenched, white-knuckled fists. What was in the box? If there wasn't an aunt, there were no family jewels. Then where did they come from? Stolen perhaps? Or were they really investments, a way of hiding money to bring into the States?

She slumped down on a bench and tried to open the box, but it was locked. Where would he stash the key? She unzipped the duffel bag and feverishly rummaged through its contents. Inside were Jake's new purchases, the cotton shirts and shorts she'd helped him choose. One pair of worn jeans. Underwear. No western shirts. Nothing that would connect him to the cowboy image. In her hands was Jake's new wardrobe. His new identity . . .

Then a thought occurred to her. Why would he need a new identity? Perhaps he was harboring that deserter he and Emilio were discussing that night under the balcony. She clasped her hand to her mouth. Oh, dear God, what if had she fallen into the clutches of someone working against the government, helping a deserter escape? But why would he do that?

And she actually thought she cared for him. Thought she might even love the man!

She could hear Jake and Emilio talking on deck. They exchanged terse, clipped words. Then she heard a new, alarming sound. The engine! She jumped up, and the duffel bag dropped to the floor, spilling half its contents. But the wooden box was still in her hands.

She cast around the tight, built-in cabin, looking frantically for a hiding place. Oh, dear God, they were moving! She grabbed her pillow and tucked the box away on her bed. By the time she scaled the few ladder steps through the companionway to the aft cockpit and stumbled up to the fly bridge, it was barely daylight and they were chugging out of the harbor.

Jake stood at the helm and steered them carefully between the boats anchored in the harbor. He had the cocky appearance of a seasoned yachtsman with his yellow visor cap, gold paisley shirt, beige shorts, and tennis shoes, worn barefoot. He certainly looked the role of a seafaring man. His new identity. Even the beard was part of the new image. She was sure he'd grown it specifically to camouflage the old Jake. But why?

A twinge of apprehension rose up inside her. Who was he? Where was he going? And why had he involved her?

This man has lied to me. And I, like a naive child, believed him. What kind of mess am I in? A lump grew in her throat.

Apprehensively Alyse approached him. "Jake, where are we going?" They'd be out of the harbor soon. And on their way to freedom.

He looked away from her and squinted thoughtfully at the horizon. "Beautiful morning, isn't it, Darling? Going to be a great day for a cruise down the Sea of Cortes. Just like the pirates, looking for gold and pearls."

She moved closer to him. "Please tell me what this is all about, Jake."

"Think we can make it all the way to San Jose del Cabo today?" He scanned the coast with an experienced air.

"Jake, don't involve me in this crazy scheme of yours."

He reached for her and drew her close beside him. "Don't you want to go with me, baby? And I thought you were enjoying my company." He tucked her hand intimately on his thigh.

She moved it. "Let me off now, Jake, before you go any farther! You can take the Skye Command. "

He turned to face her, his brown eyes intense. Did she also see a touch of regret? "Afraid it's too late to back out now, my pet. I need you here with me."

"Is that it? You need to use me?" She knotted her fists. What should she do now? She was being taken captive on her own boat!

She started to turn away, but Jake's arm lashed out and grabbed her. He pulled her close to his chest. With his arm wrapped cozily around her shoulders, he repeated, "You're going to have to trust me, Alyse."

"Why should I? Who are you, Jake Bronson? Just who the hell are you?"

"I will tell you all my secrets in due time." He kissed her nose, then dropped his lips to hers.

The kiss was brief but filled with the electrical current that had sparked between them from the beginning. She felt the magnetism, the power of the man. And she knew she was lost in his aura. One kiss, and she was almost ready to sway into his arms.

"Please don't do this," she whispered, her face still turned up to his.

"I must." His whole body seemed to shudder in a sigh. He was tense but unrelenting. They were leaving—and together. That was all that mattered.

"Jake—"

"Not now, Alyse. We'll have plenty of time for explanations later. Right now it's important to get out of here without incident."

A strange sweetness lingered on her lips, and she pondered the act of betrayal in a kiss. She watched as Jake's strong hands gripped the wheel and steered them safely and securely into the open waterway that led to the Sea of Cortes.

It occurred to her that this was perhaps her best chance at escape. They weren't going at full cruising speed yet. She could simply jump ship and swim ashore. As she watched the shoreline disappear, it occurred to her that she might not be able to swim that far. It was at least a mile and growing rapidly. But what would happen to her if she went along? Was she safe with Jake? Was her sense of security with him merely a false impression? Along with all the other false impressions she had of Jake?

Even with her many unanswered questions, all her doubts about him, Alyse stayed on board. Maybe she wanted to stick around for the answers. Maybe she just wanted to be with him a little while longer. Maybe she was too damn curious about the man. She watched Jake work and real
ized there was something about him that made her trust him. Just a little. Not his words but his actions, his body.

Last night his body had told her he loved her. That was all she had to cling to, but it was a memory that she wanted to keep in her heart forever.

As they moved past the last ship in the harbor the Skye Command lurched forward, quickly reaching full speed. She clutched the bridge railing and watched the shoreline as they passed familiar sights.

Pichilinque Bay, where they served what Jake was convinced was the best shrimp tacos in town. How could she dismiss the fun and laughter they'd shared as they ate dinner that night on the beach? The large ferry to Guaymas was still in port at Pichilinque, and she gazed at it longingly.

Jake shifted next to her. He must have read her thoughts. "Don't get any wild ideas, Alyse. You could never swim that far."

She cast him an angry glance, then turned away. Was she doomed to make this trip with him? They passed Pelican Rock and Seal Island, where two young seals played together on the rocks.

Farther down the coast they cruised past Balandra Beach, the place they had made love, all alone on the sand. Was that just yesterday? She drew in a shaky breath. Why couldn't things have stayed the same between them? Why did everything have to change so suddenly?

Today Jake wasn't the same man she'd thought he was yesterday. Or last night. He wasn't the same one who'd made love to her on the beach, chased her along the shore, dunked her playfully in the water. This man was hard and determined and almost. . . dangerous. No softness in those brown eyes today. He carried a gun somewhere; she didn't dare ask where. She flicked a tear off her cheek.

"Alyse."

Reluctantly she turned a stiff face to him, and tears filled her eyes again.

He reached up and caressed one smooth cheek. She drew back at his touch, gentle though it was.

"Don't pull away from me, Alyse. Not now. I need you."

A tear broke over the rim and rolled down her cheek. "I don't even know who you are anymore."

He wiped the tear with one finger and smiled slightly. "I'm Jake Bronson, simply a boot maker from El Paso, just like I told you. The same man who thinks you're one special lady. That much is the truth."

"No, you aren't. When I look at you now, Jake, I see a different man. It scares me."

His hand continued to caress her face. "Don't be afraid of me. I won't let anything happen to you, Alyse."

"But what about you, Jake? Can you keep something from happening to you? You're involved in something dangerous. I know it. You carry a gun. You're in trouble."

His brown eyes were distant. "This is serious business, Alyse. The stakes are high. I'm struggling for my life, but I'm good at it. Trust me."

"You're also good at lying." She turned her face away from his magnetic touch. Secretly Alyse feared she could all too easily be pulled into whatever Jake was doing. Many a woman had joined her man in a life of crime because she was too weak to leave him. Alyse could understand it now. Part of her wanted to follow him anywhere.

Her imagination went somewhat wild, as she thought of them as pirates on the Sea of Cortes, Jake and Alyse, Alyse and Jake, synonymous with crime and violence.

He gripped her chin and forced her to look at him. His serious brown eyes were as solidly dark as the seals' but held none of the fun and sparkle. They spoke of secrets and mystery. Yet he tried to convince her otherwise. "My feelings for you are no lie. I'm afraid you've gotten under my skin in our brief time together. At any rate you don't have to worry. I will take care of you on this trip, Alyse. I promise."

Unhurriedly he lowered his head until their lips met. When she didn't draw back this time, he applied slightly more pressure, softly sealing his promise with a bond that couldn't be denied or resisted as they cruised full speed into the Sea of Cortes.

While Jake continued his stand on the fly bridge, Alyse went below and tried to relax and figure out what to do next. Finally he came below, and she showed him how he could steer from the lower helm station. They shared a can of tuna on crackers for lunch.

"We need supplies," she remarked simply between bites. "This is about all we have to eat on board."

"Where can we get them?" He stood with his back to her and munched a cracker with tuna while steering.

"The next port, San Jose del Cabo should have most of what we need. If not there, the port at San Lucas can do it. We'll have to stock up on water and fuel too. It's crucial. They're in short supply on the Pacific side of the Baja. It's a long stretch to travel all the way up the coast to San Diego. It usually takes several stops to refuel."

"Okay, we'll get supplies in San Jose. God, I hope we can make it by nightfall." Jake yawned and looked over his shoulder at her. "Could you give me a little break here, Alyse? All those sleepless nights are catching up on me."

"Sure," she said. He trusted her to be in charge of the Skye Command while he slept? Why, she could take them anywhere she wanted.

He looked at her quizzically. "Do I dare turn it over to you? How do I know you won't betray me?"

She couldn't avoid giving him a smirking grin. "You'll just have to trust me, Jake. Anyway, where else would I go but to the next port? Too late and too far to turn back now. Fuel's too low."

He pursed his lips. "Maybe I can trust you after all."

Lifting her chin, she said, "About as much as I can trust you, Jake Bronson." She gripped the wheel and motioned him away.

Jake yawned again and ambled over to the leeward bunk. "Since that one's yours, I guess this bed's mine."

Alyse glared at him a minute, her eyes lighting like blue flames. "How do you know?"

"How do I know what?"

"How do you know which one's my bunk?"

He heaved himself down on the narrow berth and pulled the yellow visor over his eyes. He wore a smirky grin. "Just a lucky guess."

Suddenly she knew it wasn't a lucky guess. He knew which was her bed! But how? "Dammit, Jake! How did you know that? They both look the same."

"I told you I watched you for days."

She cut the engine, and they were plunged into sudden silence. Like a small wildcat, she lunged for him. "You watched me through those damned binoculars! How could you!"

With a swift, sure movement he caught her, holding both wrists tightly between them. "Oh, yes, my little beauty, I watched you for days. I knew when you ate, when you slept—and where. I knew when you argued with that jerk you brought here —"

She squirmed to get free, but he held her securely against his chest. "You bastard!"

He ignored her angry accusation. "You really want the truth, Alyse? I'll tell you. I watched because I needed this boat. But when I saw you, I knew I wanted you too. Even before I met you or saw you up close on the beach or felt how soft you were in my arms, I was intrigued with you and knew I wanted to make love to you. And I wanted you to make love to me." He released her wrists and locked his arms around her shoulders.

Frantically she pushed at his chest, trying to put some distance between them. But he wouldn't budge. Her fingers splayed helplessly across his muscular wall. She felt his hard nipples and pecs beneath her fingertips as she pressed. He was immovable. And she was caught in his vise!

"If you think I'm impressed with your spying, you're mistaken. I think you're dangerous, Jake."

"Not to you, Alyse. Only to those who try to stop me."

"I'm trying to stop you! Let me go! I'll take the Skye Command back alone and never breathe a word of any of this to anyone. No one will ever know we met. Just leave me alone!"

"You don't really mean that now, do you, Alyse? You couldn't forget we'd met, could you? Forget all the good times we've had together?"

"Good? I've been tricked! You are the most deceitful man I've ever—"

He lifted her chin, his thumb pressed against her lips to hush her. Slowly, agonizingly he lowered his lips to hers, tenderly matching softness to softness. The kiss belied all the toughness Jake displayed. With a ragged groan he raked his widespread hands through her unruly chestnut hair, framing her head, her face. He forced their lips and their bodies together with a heated energy born of desperation, of fear of losing her.

Alyse moaned softly and slumped against him, unable to resist him. She found herself clutching his shoulders, his neck, digging into the hair at his nape. When she raised her head, she whispered, "I don't know what's wrong with me. I must be crazy to let you do this. I don't even trust you anymore."

His finger traced her slightly swollen lips. "This has nothing to do with trust. It's a deep and abiding passion that we're both feeling."

"Jake, what are we doing here?"

"We're going home, Alyse. Going home together." He lay back on the pillow and closed his eyes. "Now, I've got to have a few hours of shut-eye. When you get tired, wake me."

She moved away from him, clutching the hollowness in the pit of her stomach. Using the lower helm station, she revved the engine. Her rebellious eyes looked back at Jake. He was completely relaxed with one arm flung over his eyes and his legs sexily sprawled apart. She knew what he looked like, what he felt like… in her. Oh, God, how she longed to curl up with him! It was absolutely crazy!

Diligently she kept them on course, wondering why. She had to keep going, but she had time to make a plan.

When they were near the port at San Jose del Cabo, Alyse cut the engines on low and scrambled through a small drawer and drew out two flags. This would ease the way into port. Then she called to Jake. "Wake up, Jake! You wanted to make it to San Jose before nightfall, didn't you? Well, we're almost there."

He groaned and heaved his legs over the side of the bunk, forcing himself awake. "Yeah, yeah. I hear you. Almost there?"

As he staggered to his feet and made his way sleepily to the ladder, she handed him two flags. "Here. We left too quickly to put these out this morning. You'll be received better in the Mexican ports if you fly their national flag along with ours."

Jake took the colorful objects and his brown eyes softened toward her. "Okay. Thanks." He didn't notice that she'd changed clothes while he slept.

When they arrived at Cabo San Jose just at sunset, the harbormaster came aboard the Skye Command to explain the permits required to leave the port. While the two men were talking Alyse slipped off the boat. She was careful to take her passport, all her money and credit cards, and the little wooden box Jake had asked her to hide. And of course, she wore her shoes this time because she knew she'd have to run.

CHAPTER NINE

Within minutes of her escape Jake was after her. He could see her skirt whisk around the corner, two blocks away, up a hill. He broke into a run and cursed under his breath as he pushed himself up that hill. Oh, he'd gotten himself entangled with quite a woman. Alyse Skye was a regular spitfire and damned wily. But he had to retrieve her, couldn't trust her one inch away from him.

He realized from a distance that she wore a brown skirt and white peasant blouse. Very clever. It was much easier for her to blend in with the natives in that outfit. Of course, there was no way anyone with such blue eyes and rich chestnut hair would blend into anything. But her clothes didn't label her a tourist.

Jake, on the other hand, wore that damned yellow paisley shirt and beige shorts. He looked about as much like an American tourist as one man could. At the top of the hill he rounded the corner and searched desperately in both directions. Damn! He'd lost sight of her.

Where the hell could she have gone? And why? Why would she leave the Skye Command? It wasn't even her boat. Would she risk losing it?

Or was she that afraid of him? Much as he hated to admit it, the thought was tormenting.

Ah, what the hell was wrong with him? Getting soft over this little blue-eyed female? She was just. . . just what? Just another woman? Not at this point. He raced on, looking inside every shop along the way, angry that he had lost sight of her. That he might have lost her altogether.

He dashed across the street, through a cemetery colorful with paper flowers and a meager courtyard of trees and stone benches, into the cool, thick-walled stucco church. There was an immediate hush in the atmosphere, an aura of solemnity. Candles flickered near the altar, and a woman knelt in prayer. Jake walked boldly up the center aisle. He had to find Alyse, had to get her back. She knew too damn much. If she went to the authorities with her information, they would nail him in a minute.

As he got closer, he realized the woman on her knees wasn't Alyse. A movement in the far left corner caught his eye, and he glimpsed a brown skirt. It had to be her!

A rustling sound drew his attention, and before he knew what was happening, Alyse was rushing forward.

"Oh, Padre, Padre!"

A dark-gowned priest turned to face Alyse.

Using his long legs to maximum capacity, Jake spanned the distance between them and was by her side, arm around her shoulder. "At last, my darling, we're together again." His viselike grip reaffirmed his words, his tone of voice commanding and hard.

"Sí, mi compadres?" The aged priest gave them a benevolent smile.

Alyse started to speak. "Father, I need—"

Jake interrupted. "We were just admiring the architecture here, Father. Is this one of the missions built by the Spanish conquistadores?"

"Don't listen to him, Father," Alyse gasped. "There is something strange going on – "

Jake squeezed her shoulders with a burst of strength. "We just had a little lovers' spat, Father. Surely you understand our situation."

The priest smiled. "Ah, you are Americans? How nice to welcome you. You Americans need to slow down, appreciate your blessings."

"You speak English?" Alyse gasped happily.

The priest bowed slightly. "I went to school in San Diego, California many years ago."

"Wonderful! This man followed me—" She tried to take a step forward, but Jake squeezed her shoulders again.

"I followed her here because I can't live without her! But you know how it is with women, she is sometimes reluctant."

"Ah." The priest nodded knowingly. "So you are sweethearts, eh? And now you want to make it legal, eh, in the eyes of God and man."

Jake's eyes widened. "Legal? As in marriage? Well, I wasn't really thinking about anything that drastic."

"You think we want to get married?" Alyse laughed derisively. "Why, this man is trying to abduct me!"

"Oh, darling, don't be so dramatic," Jake said cajolingly.

The priest nested his hands together. "We could probably arrange something quickly."

"Are you crazy?" Alyse drew back and looked askance at Jake. "I wouldn't marry you if you were the only man left on earth!"

"What about the only man on the Baja peninsula?" Jake said tauntingly.

"I'd rather be fed to the sharks," she replied angrily.

"So would I," he muttered, then turned a flashing smile to the priest. "See, Padre? She is somewhat dramatic. How can I persuade her that my love is strong? Also my arm," Jake muttered under his breath as he whirled her around and out the center aisle. "Come on, my darling. Surely we can patch up our little quarrel with out involving anyone else. Unless you want the padre to marry us."

"Are you f-ing crazy?"

He turned back. "Sorry to bother you, Padre. Have a good evening."

"Vaya con Dios!"

"Gracias, Padre," Jake answered, keeping a firm grip on the squirming Alyse. "We will probably need His guidance before this is over."

"Damn you, Jake." Alyse wiggled futilely against Jake's super strength.

"Now, now, darling. What would your father say about all this? And think about what your brother would do if he knew you were trying to abandon his boat."

"My father may kill us both when he finds out about this," she muttered threateningly.

"If." Jake heaved his shoulder against the solid wooden door and ushered her outside the church. "There is one way to avert such drastic measures. We don't tell either your father or your brother that Evan left you high and dry. Or about my saving your cute little backside by helping you steer this big, clumsy boat. And we just continue with our original plan to return the Skye Command to San Diego. Simple as that."

"The original plan has changed. It was agreed under different circumstances. Now I don't know what to think. Obviously I can't believe you." Alyse turned pleading eyes up to him. "Why don't you just let me stay here in San Jose del Cabo, Jake? You go ahead and take the boat back to San Diego, and I'll get another ride."

"With who? The next stranger that approaches you on the beach?"

"What do you care?" She pouted. "No. I'll just catch a plane at Cabo San Lucas, the next port, and fly back home."

"What would you tell your brother about the boat?"

She shrugged. "That you were bringing it along. That way I'd see how honorable you were. I already know you aren't truthful."

"Sorry, I can't go along with that plan, Alyse. I need you. A man and woman cruising along are much less likely to draw attention than a single man who might look like some sort of escapee."

"I don't care. That's probably closer to the truth."

"And a couple who look like lovers, even though they may not be, will attract even less attention. I need you with me, Alyse. And so, you're going to stay." He propelled her through the shady courtyard, his hand gripping her arm fiercely.

"Dammit, Jake, let go of me or I'll scream!" She jerked vigorously to get away from him and knocked her purse to the ground. The contents spilled out between the crude rock tombstones in the cemetery.

She dived after it, and Jake bent to the earth with her. At the same moment they both saw the carved wooden box of jewelry she had taken. With one sweep of his large hand he stuffed everything back inside her purse. "What the hell are you doing with this?"

She shrugged and tucked the purse under her arm. "I didn't know how much money it would take me to get home. Anyway, you had the Skye Command. I figured it was a fair exchange to take the jewels. Of course, I'm sure they would be only a partial payment on a thirty-foot cruiser like this one."

"You little fool! If you were caught with that box, you could end up in jail. Or worse!"

"Why?" she asked tauntingly. "Are your so-called family jewels stolen?"

"No, they aren't stolen. But they're—" He halted and led her across the street. "They're dangerous for you to carry tucked into your purse."

Through her ignorance Alyse continued to create trouble for him and greater danger for herself. Maybe he should tell her—but how much? Enough to keep her quiet.

Fear crawled over his skin at the thought of what could have happened to her if she'd been caught by authorities with that box of jewelry.

"What now?" she asked, hurrying to keep up with his long strides.

"Back to the boat to stow that damned box. It's dangerous to carry it around. You never know who's watching." He sighed and raked his free hand through his tousled hair. "Then we need to get supplies. Fuel, water, and food. I want to shove off early tomorrow after a few hours' rest. The encounter with this priest might not go unnoticed. We have to keep on the move."

"And what are you going to do with me?" Alyse asked grittily.

"I'm taking you with me, just as we planned."

"How do you know I won't run again?"

"I don't. But this time I won't let you out of my sight."

"What do you intend to do when you sleep?" she asked. "Tie me up?"

He cast her a steel-hard look. "If I have to."

"I hate you, Jake Bronson." Yet she didn't scream as she threatened. She didn't create a scene on the streets. Something inside her wanted to keep him safe from harm. Running away was different. That wouldn't harm either of them.

In her heart Alyse knew Jake wouldn't harm her. Even if she stayed, she would be safe with him. He hadn't hurt her so far, unless she counted the steel grip he presently had on her arm. So she accompanied him, albeit somewhat reluctantly, back to the Skye Command.

While she watched with detached interest, Jake thrashed around the interior of the cabin. Finally he lifted the far edge of the mattress on the larger berth in the forward cabin and tucked the jewelry box beneath it. "There." He sighed, satisfied. "That should keep it out of sight. And you"—he paused to shake his finger at her— "keep your mitts off it."