The Pawn (Shattered Series Book 1) (26 page)

       Pulling her close, she hugged her, and again, the emotions swept over her. Weren’t things working out the way they were supposed to?

       She tightened her hold around the child’s small body.

       This was
her
family.

       Besides, hadn’t they lost enough time, being separated in the literal and physical sense? And it was time to move forward, regardless of the outcome, she mulled.

      She glanced at Jarrod.

      It was time to embrace their life.

     
In every way…

      A moment later, they were walking along the pier with Jarrod leading the way. And being the gentleman that he was, he carried Rosa’s overstuffed suitcases.

      Holding onto a delightful Meghan who chattered non-stop, she listened with a half-ear as she glanced around. Pilatene was like being in another world, she thought, watching the band of tourists and islanders lounging before the trendy shops and stores. A carefree spirit exuded from them all, and it seemed as if they didn’t have a care in the world.

        Suddenly, Jarrod veered left, coming to a stop at an opaque looking building. Even in the darkness, the red lettering splashed against its wall was visible.

       
Ramos Bus Tours
, it read.

        The ‘closed sign’ hung on the glass door. But, still, it didn’t stop Jarrod from going in. A bevy of bells and wind chimes sounded as he pushed the door open.

        The smell of jasmine and honey greeted them as they stepped in. Against the walls, the short benches stood, lining each one. A potted palm tree stood alongside the long counter that rested at the center of the room, and a black/white television set blared on the counter. Behind the counter, a pair of black curtains hung, concealing the rest of the room from any patrons.

        “Ramos!” Jarrod said, dropping the suitcases to the floor as he reached the counter.

        “What is this place?” she asked curiously, stopping on his right, and Meghan pulled away from her before skipping back to Rosa who’d sat down on one of the benches.

         “The local bus shuttle, though you’d never hear Ramos describe it that way,” he muttered with a crooked grin. “Let’s just say that he thinks of it in more elaborate terms.”

           Just then, the curtains parted, and a man of Hispanic descent came out. Fortyish, brown-skinned, bald, solidly built, dressed in a white tank and Bermuda shorts, the man’s face broke into a wide grin.

           “Sabatino, you son-of-a-bitch!” Javier Ramos exclaimed, moving from behind the counter, and then embraced Jarrod in a huge bear hug. “How long has it been, bro?”

           Jarrod returned the man’s hug. “Too long, and it’s good to see you, man.”

           “And where is little Meggie? My Maria has wanted to see her since summer’s started,” Javier said, his dark gaze searching the room. Then, pointing, he smiled again. “Ah, there she is, and Rosa, it’s good to see you, too!”

        “Hi, Uncle Javier!” Meghan said, standing on the bench while waving wildly. “I miss Maria, too! She’s my best friend in the whole wide world!” Then, aiming her pouting face towards her father, she whined. “Can Maria and I have a sleep over? Daddy, please, please, please. Please, Uncle Javier!”

       “Before summer’s over, we’ll make arrangements for you and Maria to have a sleep over,” Jarrod said, and then turned an inquiring eye at Ramos. “If that’s okay with you and Luna?”

       “Of course, it’s okay!” Javier boasted, spreading his arms wide. “Luna and I love having Meggie over, and Maria---what is it that you Americans say--- is always over the moon whenever she visits. We’ll work something out, and soon.”

         Smiling, Olivia watched the exchange.

         It was more than obvious that they were all close friends.

         Then, grinning, Javier turned towards her, and he couldn’t disguise his avid curiosity. “And who is your lovely friend?”

         “Olivia Lange,” Jarrod said, turning his intense gaze on her. “Meet Javier Ramos, a close friend of mine.”

          As he made the introductions, her happiness dimmed. Why was he acting so formal, and why hadn’t he mentioned their engagement?

           Forcing back the hurt, she returned Javier’s handshake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

           Then, turning businesslike, Javier spoke again. “I’m taking it that you need my services?”

           Jarrod nodded. “I know that it’s after hours, but we need to get Rosa to the northern end of the mainland. I’ll pay triple for roundtrip.”

           Javier frowned in disapproval. “As if I’d actually extort money from one of my closest amigos? No, Jarrod,” he said, shaking his head. “You’ll do nothing of the sort. There’ll be no charge.”

         Scowling, Jarrod tried again. “But, I insist---”

         “Sabatino, you’re wasting your breath,” Javier muttered, already behind the counter and moved to the heavy curtains falling over the entryway leading to the rear. With his large hands, he parted the curtains. “Give me a minute--- gonna let Luna know where I’m going. Keep an eye out for the shuttle. It’ll be out front in a minute or so.”      

         A few moments later, as promised, the shuttle, a large van, pulled around. Ignoring Rosa’s protests, Jarrod grabbed the bulging suitcases from the floor. And like a faithful trio, they followed him out into the night.

         As she stepped out, the warmness of the island enveloped her, and again, she was grateful that she’d donned the haltered dress. When they reached the shuttle, Javier hopped out before scurrying to open its side door. While Rosa and Meghan settled on the first seat and she took the fourth seat at the rear, the men hurried to the back, and as suspected, they loaded the bulging suitcases.

        Seconds later, as he climbed on, their eyes met. 

        But, their intense connection snapped as Meghan spoke. “Daddy, sit by Livvy,” Meghan said, staring at him wide-eyed as he passed her. “She’s sitting all by herself, and she wants you to sit with her, don’t you, Livvy? Please sit with her Daddy. I don’t want her to be by herself back there. It’s scary in the dark.”

       “And we can’t have that now, can we?” he teased, but still, she heard the hesitation in his voice. The shuttle shook as he made his way down the aisle. When he stopped alongside her seat, he stared down at her. “May I?”

        “Of course,” she agreed, blushing in the darkness, and as he settled beside her, she found it difficult to breathe normally. Hardly meant for two adult bodies, the space was cramped, and as the shuttle traveled along the bumpy island road, she was conscious of the hard masculine body beside her.

       About fifteen minutes after they’d departed from the main parts of the city, the shuttle made a sharp right before venturing along the jagged dirt road. Only the beams from the shuttle’s headlights provided light along the broken path. The huge palm trees lined the road on both sides, making it seem that they were in a wondrous labyrinth as they passed through.

         From the front of the shuttle, the radio blared, and for most parts, it was off-key. But, it was loud enough to eliminate the possibility of any conversation between the front passengers and back passengers. Javier kept his attention on the road, keeping in tune with the songs as they played. And from the look of things, Meghan and Rosa were both fast asleep, with Meghan half-reclining against the caretaker---not to mention Rosa’s soft snores.

        At the back of the shuttle, it seemed that they existed in their own private world. It was plain that neither she nor Jarrod knew what to make of it.

        Tense, they both stared ahead.

         Finally, he broke the uncomfortable silence.

         “See that place over there---Bakal?” he asked, brushing against her as he pointed past her. “Legend says that the Mayans battled evil spirits amongst those ruins.”

          Following his lead, she looked out the window. “Really? Do you suppose the legend is true?”

          He shrugged. “Like all legends, the idea was birthed from somewhere, though I’m quite certain that a lot of the details have been misconstrued.”         

          Then, mere words escaped her as she took in the spectacular sight. Though the shuttle still traveled along the dirt road, the ruins were partially visible through the copse of trees. Under the starlit skies, the ruins stood like majestic temples, imposing and strong against the elements surrounding it.

          “Wow,” she said, amazed, turning towards him. “Are tourists---”

          As she faced him, her words died.

          She caught her breath.

          The darkness cloaked them.

          So close they were, a bare breath separated them. In the darkness, his eyes searched hers, and again, she sensed their undeniable chemistry. Breathless, they watched each other, tempted by a sensual fate that’d spiral them out of control.  

          With an unsteady hand, she reached out, and as it met his flesh, it seared her. With an aching slowness, she traced along the edges of his lower lip.

          Smooth…firm…dangerously seductive…

          Trembling, she sensed the intense power. Continuing her perusal, she traced along the ridges of his upper lip, and his warm breath rushed out unsteadily, bathing her tender flesh. And nothing was more gratifying or sensual than touching him, she marveled, holding his gaze. Emboldened, drugged by her own need, she pushed her finger into his mouth, and her resolve nearly shattered. Watching her, he drew it in deeper, laving the digit with his tongue.

         Erotic, tempting, dangerous…she ran out of words to express his movements. Breath ragged, body trembling, she leaned into him for support, and he gladly offered it. Curling an arm along her shoulder, breathing her name huskily, he drew her close.

      “Jarrod,” she whispered, bracing a shaky hand against his solid chest. “I-I---”

       “I’m sorry. We don’t need to rush things.” Sighing, pulling her into his arms fully, he held her close. “Get some rest. There’s still a good ways to go before we get to where we’re heading,” he said huskily, pressing a kiss against her head.

        Relaxing against him, inhaling his masculine scent, she closed her eyes. And somewhere, deep down in her soul, she understood that he was the other part of her.

Chapter 12

       A solid twenty minutes later, they reached their destination. Snuggling closer to Jarrod, suppressing a yawn, she frowned against the intrusion as the shuttle rolled to a stop.

        “We’re here,” Jarrod murmured quietly, nudging her. With reluctance, he disentangled himself from her, and she missed his closeness as soon as he did. “Stay here with Rosa and Meghan. Javier and I are going to check things out first.”

        Giving a sleepy nod, curling up on the seat, she stared out the window.

        The property was well-kept and managed, well, at least most parts of it.

        At one point, possibly, it’d been a thriving hacienda, though, it showed no signs of being that now. An empty pasture was filled with tall weeds that were dancing under the light breeze. Probably, a mine was located further away, deeper into the woods.

       But, obviously, the house and church, standing not too far apart, were the only habitable places on the property.

        Though oblong, painted a beige color, the stone-cut house was modest, probably having two or three bedrooms. In the darkness, the red-coated roof gleamed with a high sheen.

        A short distance away, the missionary church stood.
St. Augusta
, the sign read, though the words were barely visible because of the badly faded red paint. Constructed with a mixture of adobe, stone, timber, brick, and tile, the building was quite impressive, vividly displaying Spanish culture. The bell-wall held three gray-tinged bells, falling in a symmetrical order. There were several entrances, each of them having rust-colored awnings, and at that moment, a priest dressed in full garb exited the central one. While Javier hung at the back of the van and removed the luggage, Jarrod met the priest halfway at the front courtyard.

        She started when Javier spoke.

        “While I prayed for it, I never thought I’d actually see it happen, especially since he’s been so haunted by the circumstances for so long,” Javier murmured, standing at the back of the shuttle. “But, thank God, finally, Jarrod is beginning to make peace with himself.” After hefting the suitcases off, eyeing her with barely concealed respect, Javier paused. “And something tells me that you have a lot to do with that.”

       Before she could garner a response, he slammed the shuttle’s heavy door closed, leaving her alone to mull over his words. Through the van’s window, she watched as he joined Jarrod and the priest, and soon after, the three men were conversing.

       Turning her attention away, she slumped against the seat, unsurprised by Javier’s proclamation.

      
Jarrod…haunted?

       Tell her something that she didn’t know.

        For months, hadn’t she been realizing that fact—that he was a haunted soul? That at times, he was so caught up in his own desolate world, one that he’d let no one else into.

        In his eyes, she saw the truth.

        He was lost, hurting, confused…

        “Something has happened to you. But what?” she whispered, looking out the shuttle’s window again, and her gaze went straight to him. “What has torn you apart---so much so, that you’re afraid?”

        Ending their intense conversation, the men shared quick handshakes, and then, the priest and a luggage-laden Javier headed for the missionary church while Jarrod treaded for the shuttle.

       As he halted at the front of the aisle, a few short seconds later, their eyes met within the darkened space. “There’s been a change in plans. We’ll be staying here until tomorrow morning,” he added quietly, bracing his hands against the seat. “Any objections to that?”

        “No, of course not,” she murmured, already moving along the narrow aisle, and then halted at the seat where he was attempting to awaken the caretaker.

       Jarrod nudged the woman gently. “Rosa, we’re here.” The woman roused with a flustered ‘oh’ before passing a sleeping Meghan to him. Turning, he hugged the child close before stepping off the shuttle.

       They crossed the jagged path.

       After a quick jaunt, they were standing on the long wide porch of the stone-cut house. With a half-ear, she listened as Rosa rambled on. Holding a sleeping Meghan in his arms, Jarrod managed to insert the key into the lock before pushing the door open.

       A quiet darkness bathed the house.

       But even though it did, she was able to sense its rustic appeal. Wide-open space, high log beams, rich Spanish-inspired furnishings, expensive light fixtures hanging from the high arched ceilings, she mulled, blinking as the lights kicked on.

        Firing off orders in her usual rapid manner, Rosa extracted the sleeping child from Jarrod’s arms before scurrying away.

        Quiet, transfixed, watching him, she stood within the open doorway. And in her deepest heart, she sensed that she’d never experience such a connection as she did with this man. That thought tantalized and frightened her both at the same time.

        “You plan on coming in or standing there all night?” He raised a brow. “I’m certain that I don’t bite.”

     As the nervous flush spread along her face, she turned before closing the door behind her.  It wasn’t a matter of she was afraid that he’d bite, but that he
wouldn’t
, she realized shamefully, taking a calming breath. When she faced in his direction again, he was already standing behind the wet bar stationed at the far corner.

       Lifting the bottle of bourbon, he inclined it in her direction. “Something to drink?” he asked casually, already pouring the alcohol onto the ice cube-filled liquor glass. “If you prefer something lighter, I have that as well.”

       “No thank you,” she said, settling on the leather sofa, but then thought better of it. She desperately needed something to stay her nerves. Turning sideways on the sofa, she watched his ministrations over the back of it. “On second thought, I’ll have a Shirley Temple with an extra shot of grenadine.”

       Stunned, holding the half-empty bottle of alcohol in mid-air, Jarrod stared at her with surprise. But, then, recovering quickly, he began mixing her drink.

       “Why did you just look at me like that?” she asked curiously, folding her legs under herself as she rose higher on the sofa. “It was as if you’d seen a ghost.”

       Working fast, he finished mixing her drink. Then, carrying both glasses of alcohol in his hands, he crossed the room before settling on the sofa beside her. As he did, she fought to stay her womanly response to him. And that would be a feat, she mulled, accepting the drink.

       “Perhaps I have,” he murmured, eyeing her sideways, but again, his cool mask had slipped into place. Cradling the glass loosely in his left hand, he sat forward on the sofa. “For the first time in awhile, you’ve made another real connection to your past. A Shirley Temple with an extra shot of grenadine---that’s your favorite cocktail drink.”

       She sucked in a hard breath. “What?”

       Blinking back the tears of happiness, she leaned forward and placed the untouched glass of alcohol onto the coffee table. “Dear God,” she whispered, covering her mouth with shaky hands. “Please say that I’m finally going to remember everything.”

      “Every time we had dinner together, that’s what you’d drink,” he said, giving a half-smile. “But, you’d never drink the full glass.”

       She stared at him with tear-filled eyes. “Tell me more. What else do I like?”

       As their gazes held, a storm brewed between them.

       He was the first to break the contact as he looked away.

       “Talinni’s…on the square of 4
th
and north, it was your favorite Italian restaurant. At least once a week and sometimes more, we’d meet up and have lunch there.” A half-smile flitted across his face. “Lasagna al Forno, garlic bread, and fruit salad…Every single time, you’d order the same exact thing, and I could never entice you to try anything different. Even the restaurant’s waiters and attendees teased us, and they always made sure that we sat at our own little special booth.”

       “Sounds like I was rather conventional,” she said, intrigued none-the-less. “But, for some reason, I gathered that much about myself already.” She offered a shy smile. “Forgive me for saying this, but it seems like we’re from two different plateaus, and just how we crossed paths is a wonder. I mean with me being so simple---”

      Shaking his head in disagreement, Jarrod murmured quietly, “Simple? No.” Then, she was lost in a sea storm again as he held her gaze. “You are and remain the most fascinating woman that I ever met. And you challenge me in ways that no one else ever has.”

       As if perturbed by his own private confession, he turned away before draining the remnants of the alcohol in his glass. Then, he stood abruptly. “Are you cold? While I know its summer, a cool draft does blow in on this part of the island from time to time.”

       “I am a little,” she confessed, grabbing her glass from the table, and struggled to regain her self-composure. While he lit the gas logs, she watched him, falling further into her hypnotic obsession.

       The flames leapt to life, but rather than returning to his seat, he kept standing alongside the fireplace, and soon, they both became lost in private thoughts.

       “It’s beautiful here,” she murmured, breaking the quiet spell. “Whose place is this?”

       “Mine,” he added, passing a look over his shoulder. “When I purchased Laramie Rock, I bought additional property here.”

        She frowned. “And the church?”

       “St. Augusta has been here since the late 1800’s. Originally, this part of the island was acquired by force by Italian conquistadors in 1763. As a settlement was established and later flourished, the church was erected in 1807. This part of the island is known as Los Augusta, and at one point, it was a thriving hacienda, complete with salt mines, coffee fields, and cattle.” He sighed heavily. “In the late 1900’s, the Spaniards conquered the area, and over the years, the place almost became nonexistent.”

      She paused in quiet thought.

      He was well-studied, that much was evident.

       “How did you come across it?” she asked, not able to hide her keen interest. “It doesn’t seem to be profitable for any type of commerce at all.”

      “St. Augusta needed backers and funding to keep programs for the locals. An associate of mine caught wind of it and passed this bit along to me.” He released a pent-up sigh. “And at that particular point in my life, when I was approached, I was in search of something.” He shook his head. “Don’t ask me why, but, as soon as I saw this place, there was a connection. I sensed its desolation as much as it sensed mine. And I felt this deep need to give something back to it---to make it come alive again.”

         Again, she sensed his torment as she watched him from across the room. Tense, body rigid, he kept his back turned to her, and his deep struggle emanated from him. It was if he knew that he’d revealed too much about himself. He passed her another fleeting glance over his shoulder. “I guess that you can say that me and this place----we were both lost souls. In many ways, we still are.”

         Stunned by the poignancy of his words, she stayed silent. Then, she ventured to say, “Why do you say that---why do you feel that way?”

         When he faced her, the mask had slipped back into place, and his smile hardly reached his eyes. “Enough about that. After our long ride over here, the last thing I want is to bore you with such mundane details.”

          “I’d say the contrary,” she said shyly. “They’re not mundane details. I love learning things about you.”

          For a moment, he was silent, and then he said, “Perhaps I’m more of an enigma than you’d care to unravel.”

         And that couldn’t be the furthest thing from the truth.

         Everything about him…

        She was fascinated beyond reason.

        In many ways, she was like a thirst-starved woman, desperate for a fill.

         Striding across the room with his usual sexy gait, he was the cool, confident playboy again. Then, giving her a brief smile, he said, “Since we’re all relying on me for safe passage, I think that relaxing is the tall order for the moment. Don’t you agree?”

          “I suppose so.”

          As he settled on the sofa beside her again, she took a sip of her drink, striving to appear unaffected by his closeness. But, while no part of him touched her, he exuded a sensual vibrancy that she found difficult to ignore. Not only that. Every little aching nuisance of his being was permanently etched in her memory.

         Like the smoothness of his hands, she marveled, staring at the large one resting against his strong thigh. The tautness of his jaw line, firm lips, and mesmerizing green eyes…

        Tipping the glass back, she risked a fast glance, only to find him perusing her with a deep stare.      

         A shiver chased through her.

         Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t break away from their visual hold.

         For there was enough fire to burn them both to a cinder.