Читать книгу Carrera's Bride - Diana Palmer - Страница 8

There was a stunned silence. Barb’s breathing was audible as she looked from her husband to her sister.

“I think Fred’s lying,” Barb said finally.

Barney stared at her. “Fred said she didn’t do a thing for him, and he’s used to real lookers. I’m sorry, baby,” he told Delia, “but that’s the truth. It doesn’t make sense that Fred would be that out of line with a woman who didn’t appeal to him.”

“A bowl of gelatin would have appealed to him at the time, Barney,” Delia said in her own defense. “He was stewed to the gills.”

“I’ll talk to Marcus Carrera,” Barney said curtly. “He’ll tell the truth. He may be a pirate, but he’s an honest pirate.”

“You know the head of security at the casino?” Delia asked.

“Honey, I don’t know what you’ve been drinking,” Barney said dryly, “but Carrera is the owner of the Bow Tie. The closest he comes to security is when he turns Smith loose on somebody who’s tried to cheat him. They say he used to do his own dirty work in the old days in Chicago. Maybe he still does.”

“Mr…. Carrera owns the casino,” Delia parroted.

“He owns lots of stuff,” Barney replied casually. “Hotels and casinos, mostly, in the Caribbean and one off the coast of New Jersey. The Bow Tie’s his newest one. He’s been down here for a while. Since the oil drum incident, anyway.”

Delia sat down, hard. She was feeling sick. “What oil drum incident?”

Barney chuckled. “This really bad character did something nearly fatal to one of Carrera’s friends. They found him floating down the Chicago River in an oil drum. Well, most of him,” he amended. “There are still a few parts missing.”

“Parts?” Delia exclaimed.

“Now, now, baby, nobody said Carrera did it by himself. He’s always had people around him who would do what they wanted him to,” he continued. “But he’s got a reputation that scares even bad people. Nobody ever crosses him unless they’ve got a death wish.”

“That isn’t what that Dunagan man said,” Barb reminded her husband.

He frowned at her. “Dunagan was just passing on gossip,” he said with deliberate firmness.

“Well, there is some gossip about that Miami gangster—what’s his name, Deluca?—who’s trying to set up his own operation down here on Paradise Island. They say he’s got his hand into all sorts of illegal gambling in Florida and now he wants to take over a casino or two in the Bahamas.”

“He got caught for running an illegal betting operation,” Barney replied. “He opened a couple of shops so people could bet on greyhound and horse racing. But he reneged on the payoffs or lied about the bets that were placed. He did three years. Had a really good lawyer,” he added with a grin.

Barb gave him a cold look. “He’s a crook.”

“Sure he is,” Barney agreed. “But he’s got a lot of muscle, and that beautiful daughter who travels around with him. They say he uses her to set up men. But she’s got the personality of a spitting cobra.”

“How exactly did you get home, baby?” Barb asked suddenly.

“The head of security drove me over in a big black stretch limousine,” Delia said with a big smile. “It was incredible!”

“I forgot you’d never been in one,” Barney said, sighing. “I wanted to bring you up to stay with us in New York and show you the town. But your…mother wouldn’t hear of it,” he added curtly. “She hated my guts. She said she didn’t want you around me.”

“But, why?” Delia asked, appalled. Nobody had ever told her that.

Barb gave Barney a warning glance. “Mother was jealous of Barney because he took me away from her,” she said. “They never got along, you know that.”

“Yes,” Delia admitted, “but that doesn’t explain why she didn’t want me to go to New York.”

Barney turned away, looking uncomfortable. “She thought you might like it there and want to stay.”

“She didn’t want to lose you, baby,” Barb said, but she didn’t sound very comfortable herself.

“But she never liked me,” Delia exclaimed.

“What?” Barb asked sharply.

Delia had never admitted that to them. She hated doing it now, but perhaps it was time to get it out in the open.

“She didn’t like me,” she confided miserably. “Nothing I did was ever right. She didn’t like my hair long, but she liked it less if I had it cut. She didn’t like the clothes I wore, they were too dowdy. She ridiculed the ones I designed and made myself. She said I was lazy and shiftless and that I’d never amount to anything…”

“Baby, you can’t be serious!” Barb exclaimed, horrified.

“I never understood why,” Delia said heavily, sitting down. “It was almost as if she hated me, but when I asked her if she did, she got all flustered and said of course she didn’t, that it wasn’t my fault that I was the way I was.”

Barb and Barney exchanged curious glances. They not only looked shocked, they looked guilty. Delia wondered why.

“Baby, why didn’t you ever tell me this?” Barb asked gently, her green eyes soft and loving.

Delia grimaced. “It wouldn’t have been right, for me to talk like that about my own mother. And what could you have done, anyway? You and Barney had your own lives.”

“She never said why she made it so hard on you?” Barney asked.

Delia glanced at him and thought, not for the first time, how strange it was that his face and hers were remarkably similar, from the small ears to the rounded chin and the very shape of his eyes. She’d even asked Barb once if he was kin to them, because of the resemblance. But Barb had laughed and said of course not.

Not that she didn’t look like Barb, too, with the same green eyes and blond hair. Their mother had dark hair and blue eyes. But, then, Delia knew that she and Barb were throwbacks to their paternal grandmother, because Delia’s mother had said so.

“I’m sorry,” Barb said, moving to hug her sister close. She’d always been affectionate like that, since Delia’s earliest memories. Barb hugged her coming and going, praised her, teased her, sent her presents on every holiday and birthday and all the time in between. Delia had never wanted for anything, especially not love. In fact, until three years ago, Barney and Barb had lived in San Antonio. They were always around. But when they were, Delia’s mother was on her best behavior. She loved Barb best, and it showed. She was sharp with Delia, though, and Barb had occasionally remarked on it. She didn’t realize how harsh their mother could be, when she wasn’t there.

“Maybe I could come to New York and visit one day,” Delia mentioned.

Barb’s face lit up. “That would be great! We could take you to all the touristy places and you and I could go shopping together!”

Delia smiled. “I’d like that.”

“We still haven’t finished talking about Fred,” Barney interrupted.

“She’s not going out with him again,” Barb said firmly, with an arm around her sister.

“I wasn’t going to suggest that,” Barney said gently. “But I need to have a talk with him about his behavior tonight,” he added, dark eyes flashing. “He had no right to manhandle her!”

“I agree wholeheartedly,” Barb said. “At least you got home safely.”

“Yeah, and Carrera didn’t send Fred home in a shoe-box, either, apparently,” Barney murmured.

“You said Mr. Carrera doesn’t kill people,” Delia reminded him. She couldn’t believe that he did. She didn’t want to believe it.

“He’s calmed down a bit,” Barney replied. He poured himself a drink. “He hasn’t bumped anybody off recently, at least. He’s keeping a low profile. I expect that’s why he’s down here in the Bahamas. Laying low.”

“You look sick, baby,” Barb said worriedly. She sat down beside Delia and patted her knee. “You’ve had a bad night. Why don’t you go to bed and get some sleep?”

“I think I’ll do that,” Delia said.

“Did you actually talk to Carrera?” Barney asked curiously.

Delia nodded, her throat was too tight for speech.

Barney chuckled. “That’s one for the books. He never mingles with the customers. I guess he was afraid you might sue him, if Fred’s lying. He wouldn’t like the publicity.”

“I thought you believed Fred,” Barb said curtly.

He shrugged. “If Carrera got involved, it’s no wonder Fred’s trying to smooth things over. Nobody wants to cross him. Least of all Fred. He’s been working out a business proposition he wants to involve Carrera in. I don’t know what sort, but Fred does have a genius for making money.” He sipped his drink, frowning. “I might try to get in on it myself,” he added with a glance at Barb.

“You stay out of business with Carrera,” Barb said flatly. “I like you alive, warts and all.”

“Did Smith bring you back to the hotel?” Barney asked Delia.

“He and Mr. Carrera did.”

There were shocked stares.

“Fred tore my dress and Mr. Carrera sewed it up for me,” she faltered.

Barney finished the drink in one swallow.

“That’s right, he quilts,” Barb said, brightening. “Delia teaches quilting. You told him, right?”

Delia nodded.

“No wonder he was nice to you,” Barney agreed. “He’s a sucker for a fellow quilter. We heard he gave a guy a week’s paid vacation in one of his hotels for two yards of old cloth.”

“Antique fabric is very valuable,” Delia said softly, “and extremely hard to get.”

“They say he keeps an album of his quilts,” Barney chuckled.

“He does. I saw it. He’s won international competitions,” Delia replied. “His needlework is marvelous.” She showed the mend to Barb, who couldn’t find the stitches.

“That’s really something,” Barb had to admit.

“If he ever shoots me, I’ll ask him to sew me a quilted shroud,” Barney quipped.

Barb stared at him. “Why would he want to shoot you?”

Barney looked uncomfortable. Then he shrugged. “No reason right now. I had thought about suggesting we all take in a show at the casino. We might get special treatment now, what with him sewing up Delia.”

Barb glowered at her husband. “We’re not putting her in his path again. I do not want my baby sister running around with a criminal!”

“He’s not a criminal. Not exactly,” Barney said. “He’s a nice guy as long as you don’t try to steal from him or threaten anybody close to him.”

“I don’t want to find out,” Barb said firmly. She turned to Delia. “You stay away from that man. I don’t care how nicely he sews, either.”

Delia wanted to tell them that Marcus had asked her out the next day, but she didn’t quite have the courage. It was hard to stand up to Barb, who was mature and brimming with authority. Delia had never refused to do anything Barb asked.

But she remembered the hungry kiss she’d shared with Marcus on the windswept balcony, the feel of his arms around her, the warm strength of him in the cool evening. She tingled all over with memory. She wanted to be with him.

The only thing that bothered her was his reputation. What if he really did kill people…?

Barb was studying her expression. “Dee, did you hear me?” she asked. “I said, I don’t want you going around with a gangster.”

“I heard, Barb,” Delia replied.

“He’s loaded, you know,” Barney interrupted. “They say he’s worth millions.”

“It’s how he got it that bothers me,” Barb replied.

“There are worse crooks heading up corporations all over the world,” Barney said carelessly. “He’s certainly got the midas touch when it comes to business. At least he’s honest, and he never makes idle threats. He loves senior citizens.”

“So does the Japanese mafia, the Yakuza,” Barb shot back.

Barney threw up his hands. “Everything’s black and white with you.”

“I’ll go to bed and let you two finish your argument in private,” Delia offered.

“You do that, baby,” Barb said gently. “I’m glad you’re okay. Imagine, riding around Nassau in the company of a killer!”

“They never proved that he killed anybody,” Barney argued.

“They never proved he didn’t!”

Delia slipped out of the sitting room and closed the door on the loud voices. She got ready for bed in a daze. She couldn’t believe what Barney said about Marcus. Surely she’d have sensed evil if it was in him. He’d been kind, and comforting. He’d even been affectionate. He was attracted to her, as she was to him. Was it so wrong to spend time with him?

She worried about what Barb would say. And then she thought, I’m a grown woman. I have to make my own decisions about people.

She remembered suddenly what Marcus had said to her, about not believing what she might hear about him; about waiting until she knew him better to make that sort of judgment.

It was going to be too much temptation anyway, to turn away from him now. She was already hooked. She couldn’t stop thinking about him. She was going to go to Blackbeard’s Tower with him, even if she had to do it covertly.

She remembered that he’d said he’d meet her in the lobby, and she began to worry. It was a long shot, but what if Barb and Barney happened to be in the lobby at the same time?

The thought kept her awake late into the night.

She dreamed about the hot kiss they’d shared on his balcony as well. She’d always been a sensible, practical sort of person. But when Marcus Carrera touched her, she lost her head completely and became someone else. She’d never understood why women gave up their principles and slept with men before they were married. But it was becoming clear that sometimes physical attraction overran caution. Her body throbbing, she felt stirrings that she’d never experienced in her life. She could barely stand to have the sheet touch her body, she was so feverish with just the memories. Marcus’s body close to hers, his big hands flat on her back, his mouth biting into hers hungrily. She actually moaned. It was dangerous for her to see him again, because she wanted him with a blind, mindless passion. She knew already that she couldn’t resist him if he put on the heat. And he might be as helpless to stop it as she already was.

She was very curious about sex. Her mother had been reticent and reluctant to even talk about it, just like Barb. But Delia had friends who indulged, and they told her the most shocking things about men and women in bed together. She thought of Marcus that way and her body ached for him.

She knew that if he asked her out, she’d go with him as often as he liked. She’d lived in a cocoon all her life, without refusing to do whatever she was told. But she was twenty-three now, and already falling in love with that big, dark man from the casino. For once, she was going to do what pleased her, and she’d live with whatever consequences there were. She wasn’t going to spend the rest of her life alone without even one sweet memory to cherish in her old age. And if she had to go against Barb to do that, she was willing. It was, after all, her life.

When Delia woke, she felt as if she hadn’t slept at all. She couldn’t believe that Marcus was a killer, no matter what anyone said. He had been tender with her, generous, kind. Surely a gangster wouldn’t have been so accommodating to a perfect stranger.

But what did she know about gangsters? She was a small-town girl with no knowledge of people with mob connections, except by gossip. There had been some excitement in Jacobsville, Texas, over the past few years. A drug lord had decided to build a distribution center there, and a group of local mercenaries had stopped him. A local girl had been kidnapped in revenge and taken to the drug lord’s home in Mexico, and her stepbrother had rescued her. There had even been a shooting when Christabel Gaines and her guardian Judd Dunn had run afoul of a murderer; Christabel had been shot by one of the notorious Clark brothers, who had killed a young woman up around Victoria. Clark was now serving a life sentence without hope of parole.

But other than those episodes, Jacobsville was mostly a quiet place to live. Delia lived in a cocoon of kind people and rustic charm. She was unsophisticated, not really pretty, and rather shy.

So, why, she wondered, would a rich, worldly man like Marcus Carrera even want to take her sightseeing. If he was as rich as Barney said he was, surely he could get any sort of women he liked—beautiful women, talented women, famous women. Why would he want to take Delia out? Maybe he was desperate for company? She laughed at that thought. But then she remembered the torrid kiss they’d shared, and her heart raced. Perhaps he felt the same way she did. It didn’t have a lot to do with looks, social position or wealth. Nobody could explain physical attraction, after all.

That fiery passion was unsettling to a woman who’d never felt it in her life. She couldn’t even consider an affair, she told herself. And he didn’t seem to be a marrying man. Surely if he’d wanted to marry, he’d have done it, at his age.

There was another consideration—if she was going to go against her own best instincts and go out with him, she’d have to lie to Barb. She’d never done that in her life. Barb had loved her, sacrificed for her, taken care of her even more than her own mother had. In all honesty, she loved Barb more than she’d loved her poor mother. But the alternative was to forget Marcus and stand him up. Her heart ached at just the thought of not seeing him again. This sudden hunger to be with him, to hold him, to kiss him was overpowering. She couldn’t bear to stand him up. Even after only a brief meeting, her eyes ached for the sight of him.

She told herself that she was an idiot. But she was going to meet him, no matter what the consequences. She couldn’t help herself.

In the end, her fears of Barb seeing her with him in the lobby evaporated when Barney had an emergency call about his business back home. His headquarters was in New York, but he was opening a new hotel in Miami, and there were major problems with the contractor who was building it. The man had walked off the job, with his entire crew, after an argument with one of Barney’s vice presidents. Barney was going to have to fly there and solve the problem. Barb, who was in charge of the interior design for the building, would necessarily have to go as well, since the contractor had been authorized to supply the materials she required.

“I hate leaving you here alone, baby,” Barb said worriedly. “Would you like to fly down to Miami with us while we sort this out?”

Delia thought fast. “I think I’d rather stay here, if you don’t mind,” she said. “I really wanted to get in some sunbathing on the beach.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Barb persisted.

“She’s a grown woman, for God’s sake. You’re only her sister, not her mama,” Barney said furiously.

Barb flushed. “Well, I worry!” she defended. “What about Fred?” she added.

“Fred’s gone to Miami, too, for the week,” Barney muttered, searching for his wallet. “I didn’t know he had business interests there,” he said with an odd smile.

“There!” Delia said, relieved. “That solves the problem.”

Barb was frowning. “You aren’t going off with Carrera anywhere, are you?” she asked suspiciously.

Delia managed to look dumbfounded. “Chance would be a fine thing!” she exclaimed. “I mean, look at me,” she added, spreading her arms wide. “Tell me why a man that rich would look twice at a plain, nobody of a seamstress from a little town in Texas?”

“You are not plain!” Barb argued. “The right clothes and makeup and you’d be a knockout. In fact, we just outfitted you, didn’t we, and you have yet to wear a single thing I bought you!”

“I will. I promise,” Delia said in a conciliatory tone.

Barb sighed. “No, you won’t. You spend your life in sweats and old shirts. In fact, you didn’t even have any shirts without pictures or writing on them until I brought you down here and took you shopping.”

“I’ll wear the new clothes,” Delia promised, and she meant it. Marcus might like her in something pretty.

“We need to talk about this,” Barb continued.

“But not right now,” Barney said impatiently, looking at his Rolex. “We have to go right now or we’ll miss our flight.”

“All right,” Barb said reluctantly. She hugged Delia. “You keep this door locked while we’re gone,” she began. Barney was opening the door and motioning to her. “Don’t open it unless you know who’s outside!”

“Yes, Barb,” Delia said automatically.

“And do not go out at night alone…” Barb continued.

Barney had her by the arm and was dragging her toward the door. She laughed. “Don’t take candy from strangers!” she called merrily. “Don’t go too near the ocean, and don’t pet stray dogs!”

“I won’t, I promise,” Delia chuckled.

“I love you!”

The door closed on the last word.

“I love you, too!” Delia called after her.

There was a skirl of laughter and then, silence.

Delia tried on three of the new outfits Barb had bought for her before she settled on a simple white peasant blouse with a lace-edged white cotton skirt and a wide magenta cotton wrap belt. She’d found the outfit in one of the local stores and the saleslady, an elegant tall woman, had showed her how to wrap the belt around her waist several times and tuck it in. The result was very chic, especially with Delia’s small waist.

She was vibrating with nervous energy and indecision about her choice when the phone rang and made her jump. She ran to answer it.

“Yes?” she said at once.

There was a deep chuckle, as if he knew she’d been sitting on hot coals waiting for him and was pleased by it. “I’m in the lobby,” he said.

“I’ll be right down.”

She hung up and darted to the door, only then realizing that she was barefoot and had forgotten both her purse and the room key. With a rueful laugh at her own forgetfulness, she ran back to get her shoes and purse and key.

Eight breathless minutes later, she arrived in the luxurious lobby, having spent five minutes waiting for the elevator.

She stepped out into the lobby and looked around worriedly for Marcus. And there he was, lounging against the wall opposite the bank of elevators, lazily elegant and smiling.

He was wearing a green knit shirt with brown slacks. He looked big and expensive and sexy.

He was looking, too, his dark eyes intent on her trim figure and especially her wealth of long, wavy blond hair that she’d left cascading down to her waist in back.

He smiled then, warmly, and she went straight to him, almost colliding with another hotel guest she didn’t even see, causing amused glances from passersby.

“Hi,” she said huskily.

“Hi,” he returned, his voice deep and soft. “Ready to go?”

She thought about the risks she was taking, the danger she could be in, the anger and betrayal that Barb was going to feel. But nothing mattered except that look in his dark eyes. She threw caution and reason to the winds.

“I’m ready,” she said.