Читать книгу His Holiday Bride - Elaine Overton - Страница 8

Why, Amber thought, did the greatest revelations in life come too late to be useful?

She sat curled in a ball in the car with her eyes pressed tightly closed. She wanted to continue to appear asleep even though she’d been awake for several minutes now. Soon, she thought, they should arrive at a hotel and she would be free of Paul Gutierrez, the handsome stranger who’d appeared out of nowhere to rescue her.

She made a mental note to thank him when they parted company. Looking back on the situation she wasn’t sure she would’ve been able to get away from Dashuan so easily without his help. And all she’d given him in return was attitude, which was strange considering men like him usually brought out only the best in her.

A flirtatious smile, the wink of an eye—that was how she would typically greet gorgeous men. Not with tear-filled eyes and a flippant tongue. She could still see the concern shining in the depths of those soft brown eyes. As nice as he was to look at, Amber could only hope never to see him again after tonight.

She would check into an anonymous room tonight and be on a flight to…somewhere tomorrow. Not home. The humiliation of returning to her family under these circumstances would just be too great.

No, she needed some time alone, maybe on a tropical beach somewhere far from Opal’s self-righteous “I told you so.” Far away from Ruby’s temper, and Pearl’s sympathetic eyes. In other words, far, far away from her sisters.

The image of what she’d seen earlier that night was not only seared on her brain, it seemed to be on some kind of auto replay that she could not stop.

The look of horrific surprise on Dashuan’s face when she’d thrown open the bedroom door to find his naked body kneeling over another. The look of shock on the face of his lover. And she could only imagine her own frightful expression as her brain tried to reason out exactly what her eyes were seeing. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. It was like a magic trick, she thought. When the mind knows that what it is seeing cannot be and yet there it is…right in front of you.

She felt her whole body stiffening, remembering the vision that had greeted her as she rounded the corner and come to a halt in the entrance to the living room. It was a scene straight out of a graphic porn movie. Clothes were strewn all over the floor as naked bodies twisted and contorted in every imaginable way. Men and women coupled, and in groups having sex all over the large room. Women with men, women with women, men with men—she simply could not believe it. The air was pungent with the smell of sex and Amber felt herself getting sick.

No one seemed to even notice her standing in the doorway too stupefied to move. Or if they did notice they didn’t seem to care. She forced herself to look into each and every face, recognizing many of them as friends of Dashuan’s, but there was no sign of Dashuan in the midst of the orgy. Amber remembered feeling overwhelming relief when she first discovered he was not among the bodies.

Her eyes fell on Skip, Dashuan’s agent, the man he was supposed to be spending the evening with discussing business. But the only business Skip seemed interested in was what the two young female groupies were doing to his genitals.

His eyes met hers over the tops of their heads and there was something dark and sinister in the way he looked at her that told her she had to get out of there in a hurry, or she could become an unwilling part of this whole disaster.

She had to find Dashuan and let him know what was going on. He would put a stop to this. Of that she was certain. She made her feet move in the direction of the bedrooms lining the back hall of the suite, hoping that Dashuan had fallen asleep in one of them and was unaware of what was going on in the other rooms. She threw open the double doors of the master bedroom and surprisingly it was empty, as were the next two bedrooms. She was almost convinced that Dashuan was nowhere in the suite when she came to the fourth bedroom.

She heard the muffled groan too late, because by the time the noise registered she had already thrown open the door and surprised the two men coupling on the bed. Amber knew she would never forget the look of intense pleasure on Dashuan’s face, or the sight of his strong, muscular arms bracing his body over his trainer. She knew she would never forget because he looked exactly as she’d always imagined he would look. Only in her imaginings, she had been the one beneath him.

She felt the car make a turn, and the shifting movement brought her back to the present. Slowly, the car came to a halt. Amber felt her heart pounding as she remembered the man sitting next to her. They had finally reached the hotel. Now all she had to do was get away from him with what was left of her dignity intact.

“I know you’re awake, so you might as well open your eyes.” A gentle voice broke the silence.

So much for dignity. Amber opened her eyes and found herself staring into a pair of soft brown ones again. The man really was beautiful, she thought. Too bad they had not met under different circumstances. Looking out the driver’s side window beyond him, she realized they were in some sort of neighborhood. She sat up and realized they were sitting in the driveway of a large, newly built home. She continued to look all around. A subdivision? she thought. What happened to the hotel?

“Where are we?” Amber felt the first stirring of unease since Paul Gutierrez had appeared, reminding her that she did not know this man.

“I thought you would be more comfortable here than in a hotel.”

She narrowed her eyes and studied his face, trying to see any signs of deceit or ill intentions. “I asked you a question. Where are we? Whose house is this?”

Paul arched an eyebrow, realizing she did not assume it was his. Of course not. He reminded himself of her reaction to his little compact car. What exactly do you do for a living? He could still see the slightly contemptuous expression on her pretty face. Gold digger.

“A friend of mine. I’m house-sitting.”

She scooted back against the door of the car. “I asked you to take me to a hotel. Why did you bring me here?”

“I just told you. I thought you would be more—”

Suddenly she threw open the door and stood. Paul matched her step for step.

“Amber!” he called to her realizing she was now trembling. “Calm down, I should have told you what I—”

“Do you really know Luther?”

“Of course. How else would I have found you?”

“How do you know him?”

“We were in the Navy together. Look, I know you’ve been through a lot tonight but you’re going to have to trust me.”

“I don’t know anything about you! All I asked was that you take me to a hotel and you brought me here. Where are we, anyway?!”

He sighed. “Moreno Valley, about an hour southeast of L.A.”

“We’ve been driving for over an hour?” Her eyes widened, and she glanced at the small gold watch on her wrist for the first time since she’d climbed into the car. It was almost 3:00 a.m. “Oh, my God!” She grabbed her head with both hands. “What was I thinking? Getting in a car with a total stranger?”

“Amber, calm down. You are perfectly safe here.” Realizing she was about to bolt, Paul held up his hand. “Stop and think for a minute. How else would I have known where to find you? Your name? Think about it.”

She did, but she did not draw the conclusions he wanted. “For all I know you could just be some creep who hangs around hotel lobbies trying to pick up women. As for my name, you heard Dashuan call me.”

His mouth twisted in frustration. “You name is Amber Lockhart. You are twenty-one and you grew up in Detroit. From what Luther told me, your family is worried about you right now. So, why don’t we go into the house and give them a call to let them know you’re safe and sound.”

Her heart slowed considerably as he recited information that could’ve only come from someone who knew her. “Okay, I believe Luther sent you.”

“Thank you!” He threw up his hands in relief, believing the battle had been won.

“But that doesn’t change the fact that you took me an hour outside of town without my permission when all I asked is that you drop me off at a hotel.”

“Stop obsessing about the damn hotel. You’ll be much more comfortable here, all the same amenities and more. This is for your own good.”

“How would you know what’s good for me?” She shook her head in defeat. “You know what—Never mind. I’ll find a hotel on my own.” She quickly opened the rear door of the car and grabbed her bags and her purse. Slamming the door shut, she turned and headed down the driveway back toward the street.

“Where are you going?” Paul asked, wondering if his friendship with Luther was really worth this headache.

“I told you. I’ll find my own hotel,” she called over her shoulder.

“You don’t even know where you are!” he shouted and instantly regretted it when he noticed the front room curtains moving on the house across the street. Apparently they had an audience.

Amber did not even bother responding. She just kept walking. The plan was simple. She would hail a cab. Cab drivers always knew hotels and restaurants in their areas. In the morning she would find some way back to L.A., and from there on to…wherever. I’ll worry about that tomorrow. Right now all she wanted was a bed, and sweet, sweet sleep.

Paul stood and watched her leave and was determined not to follow. He knew she would be safe enough inside the large subdivision, but what if she did manage to find her way out onto the main street? What if the dizzy broad got herself run down or mugged? Of course, Luther would hold him responsible.

He rested his head on top of the small car, wondering what crazed compulsion told him to bring her back to his home. The girl was nothing but trouble. Look at the situation he had to bail her out of tonight.

She wasn’t the only one with troubles, he thought, remembering that only a few hours ago he’d been forced to fire a man he had considered a friend.

He shook his head and decided to let her go for now. Maybe she would be more reasonable after she cooled off. A couple of hours on the hard concrete in those heels she was wearing, and she would regard his compact car like the finest of limousines.

Paul opened the front door of the house as quietly as possible, not wanting to awaken Rosalie, the sixty-seven-year-old Hispanic woman who took care of his eight-month-old son, Joachim, during the day. But that proved pointless as he entered the large kitchen and found her sitting at the table.

Rosalie often volunteered to spend the night when Paul needed to do late-night surveillance, such as tonight. Being that all of her children were adults, there was only Rosalie and her elderly husband, Enrique, at home. Paul knew that taking care of Joachim was more than just a job for Rosalie, and he was grateful for whatever intuition had led him to hire her.

The older woman was usually never without a smile or kind word for anyone. But now a worried expression marred her light brown face. Her worn, wrinkled hands were closed around a mug and Paul knew instinctively this night was about to get even worse.

“Paul!” Hearing him enter the room she sprung to her feet with the agility of a woman half her age and ran to wrap her robust arms around his lean form. “I was so worried about you. I know you said you would be late tonight, but it’s almost morning, and I was so afraid. And Enrique, my Enrique has to have emergency surgery—”

“Shhh, shhh.” Paul stroked her back, trying to calm her. “Now, slowly, tell me.”

“My Enrique has to have emergency heart bypass surgery in the morning.” She began wringing her hands in agitation. “Oh, Paul, I am so worried. What am I going to do?”

Paul guided her back to the table. “First, you are going to slow down before you have to join Enrique in the hospital,” he said, in a poor attempt to lighten the mood.

Rosalie smiled, grateful for the effort. “You’re right. He’s always been such a strong, healthy man. I don’t understand how this could’ve happened to him.”

“What hospital is he in?”

“Riverside County,” she managed to say before the tears began to flow. “Oh, Paul, I am so scared.” Her eyes widened as she remembered the important conversation she needed to have with him. “I have to go be with him, Paul. But I don’t know what to do about Joachim.”

“Don’t worry about Joachim. I’ll just work from home for the next few days. You go be with your husband.”

She leaned across the table and hugged him again, and Paul knew in some way she needed the affection more than he did. She stood and hurried toward the hall. “Thank you so much,” she called over her shoulder.

She paused in the entryway and returned to the table to take one of his large hands between hers. “Please say a prayer for us.” She smiled and touched his lean cheek. “Your prayers will be heard. You are touched by the angels.”

Paul forced a smile and regretted the many mornings he’d sat sharing his war stories with her over a pot of coffee. But during those early days when she’d first come to work for him he had needed someone to talk to, and Rosalie had been a kind and compassionate listener.

She was also a deeply religious, yet superstitious woman. After hearing how many times he’d barely escaped being captured by the Taliban, she’d concluded that he had “special favor.” An opinion he’d yet been unable to change.

He looked into her eyes, trying to determine how to pose his question without offending her. “Rosalie, Enrique’s hospital stay…is it going to pose a hardship for you? Because I can—”

She quickly covered his lips with her finger, and much to his dismay her eyes once again filled with tears. “Such a generous offer, but we are fine. Enrique has insurance and thanks to you, so do I. With our savings, we’ll be just fine.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s time for Joachim’s feeding. I’ll leave right after that.”

“You don’t have to—”

“No, no, I want to.” She crossed the room to where a bottle sat cooling on the stove. “I’m going to miss him so much. I just want to spend a little time with him before I have to leave.” She hurried out of the room and a few minutes later Paul heard the door to the nursery gently open and close.

Paul rose tiredly and picked up the cordless phone. Running through the numbers on the speed dial he finally found the one he wanted. He dialed and leaned against the counter, waiting for an answer and wondering if he should describe the mission as accomplished or failed.

“Hello?” The drowsy voice of Luther Biggens answered on the other end.

“I got her.” Paul decided to cut straight to the chase. He rubbed the bridge of his nose feeling the pressure of recent events coming down on him.

“Thanks, man. Can I talk to her?”

“Um, let me rephrase that. I don’t exactly have her have her.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She’s in the neighborhood, but not in the house.”

“What?”

Paul sighed. “It’s a long story. Out here it’s almost three in the morning and neither of us has slept all night. Can I have her call you back when she wakes up?”

Luther paused for a long moment as if attempting to understand his old friend. “All right, I guess. And when you wake up, I’d be interested to hear this long story.”

“You got it.” He yawned, unable to hold back his exhaustion any longer.

A few minutes later he grabbed his keys off the foyer table in preparation to go search for Amber. He needed to find her and talk some sense into her quickly. Now that Rosalie was leaving he couldn’t stay away long.

Just as he opened the door, he saw a dragging, drunken figure weighted down with shopping bags wandering up the driveway. He shook his head, amazed that she was still on her feet. He wanted to rush toward her and help her, but knew the help would be rejected.

She stopped just outside the doorway. “What the hell kind of freakish community is this? There’s no way out!” She glared at him as if it were his fault she’d spent the last thirty minutes wandering in circles.

He bit his lip to keep from laughing and waited. She looked so disgruntled he almost felt sorry for her.

Finally she placed one foot inside the door and paused. “I’ll stay tonight, but first thing in the morning you’re taking me to the airport.” She wagged a finger in his face that told Paul that, despite her ranting about strangers, she was not the slightest bit afraid of him.

He stepped aside to allow her inside. Amber entered looking around at the bare walls and the staircase leading to the second level. The only light was the foyer table lamp, so she couldn’t see much.

“So? Where do I sleep?”

“The second bedroom at the top of the stairs.”

Without another word she turned and, weaving back and forth, finally made her way to the top of the stairs. Paul just shook his head, realizing the only thing keeping her exhausted body upright was pure determination. From where he stood at the bottom, he could just see her shadow as she entered the room and closed the door.

He was sitting at the kitchen table fifteen minutes later when Rosalie came back down. “Okay, his bottom is dry and his belly is full.” She smiled. “He should sleep until around seven now. There are several bottles already prepared on the refrigerator door and the directions for mixing his formula are on the tack board over there.” She made a gesture over her left shoulder.

After watching her drive away, Paul quickly locked the door and set the alarm. Happiness began to grow as he came closer and closer to the master bedroom. He threw open the double doors and without even undressing just stretched out across his large four-poster bed. He sighed heavily, yawned once and quickly faded away.

Ten minutes later, a baby’s angry howl brought him back to his feet once more.