The rule of law in Guatemala is notoriously inefficient, which makes it a good place to hide a kidnap victim.” He laughed bitterly. His jaw tautened. “They’ll kill her if they don’t get the money. They may do it anyway.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’ve already done it,” he replied. “I’ve given Dutch a sum of money to buy some things I’ll need. I’ve also had him contact my old comrades. They’ll meet us at the Guatemalan finca of a friend of mine.”
She cocked her head at him, uncomprehending. “When do we leave?”
“Tomorrow,” he said. “As much as I’d like to jump on the next plane, we can’t do it that way. I need time to plan. And there’s no sense in signaling our every move. Dutch was going to speak to Roberto for me tonight. I’ll need to know the status of his fundraising before we leave.”
“Will we fly into Guatemala?” she asked, feeling jittery.
“To Mexico,” he said in answer. He smiled slowly. “As part of the holiday, of course,” he added. “That will be broadcast to the right quarters.”
“And now?” she asked. “What do I do?”
“We’ll go see some of those ruins, if you like,” he said. “It will help to pass the time.”
Her eyes searched his. “I know you’re worried, J.D. If you’d rather stay here…”
He moved closer to her, and the sudden proximity of his big body made her knees go weak. She lifted her face and found his dark eyes intent and unblinking.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said quietly. He reached out and traced a slow path down her cheek to her throat, where her pulse went suddenly wild. “What would you like to see first?”
She found that her voice wobbled alarmingly. “How about the Forum?”
His dark eyes searched hers for a long moment. His fingers went to her mouth, touching it lightly, as if the feel of it fascinated him. His thumb dragged slowly, sensuously, over it, smearing her lipstick, arousing every nerve ending she had. She gasped, and her lips parted helplessly.
“The Forum?” he murmured.
She hardly heard him. Her eyes were held by his. Her body was reacting to the closeness of his in a new and frightening way. She could smell the musky cologne he wore and it made her head spin.
Her hands went to his chest in a small gesture of protest, but the feel of all that bare skin and matted hair made her jerk back.
He glanced down at her recoiling fingers with an odd expression. “It’s only skin,” he said quietly. “Are you afraid to touch me?”
“I’ve never touched anybody that way,” she blurted out.
He tipped her face up to his and studied it with an odd smile. “Haven’t you? Why?”
What an interesting question, she thought. What a pity she didn’t have an answer.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t had the opportunity, Gabby,” he said softly. “I wouldn’t believe it.”
“Mama said that it wasn’t wise to do things like that to men,” she told him doggedly, her chin thrust out. “She said they were hard enough to manage even when it didn’t go beyond kissing.”
“So there,” he added for her with a faint smile. “She was right. Men get excited easily when they want a woman.”
She felt the blush go up into her hairline, setting fire to her face. And he laughed, the horrible man!
She pulled away from him with a hard glare. “That was unkind,” she grumbled.
“And you’re delightfully repressed,” he told her, but the look in his eyes was all tenderness. “You’d be pure sweet hell to initiate, Gabby.”
“I don’t want to be initiated,” she said primly. “I want to see the Forum.”
“All right, coward, hide your head in the sand,” he taunted, holding the door open for her.
“It’s safer that way, around you,” she mumbled.
He caught her arm as she started past him, and she felt the warmth of his body like a drug. “I’ll never hurt you,” he said unexpectedly, drawing her stunned gaze to his face. It was hard and solemn. Almost grim. “You trust me in every other way. I want you to trust me physically, as well.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because if I take you with me to Central America, I’ll want you with me all the time. Especially at night,” he added. “The men we’ll be working with aren’t particularly gentle. For all intents and purposes, you’ll be my possession.”
“To protect me from them?” she asked.
He nodded. “That means, in case you haven’t worked it out, that you’ll be sleeping in my bed.”
She tingled from head to toe at the thought of lying in J.D.’s arms. It was something she’d contemplated in her own mind for a long time, and hearing it from his lips almost made her gasp. As it was, her flush told him everything anyway.
“In my bed,” he repeated, searching her eyes. “In my arms. And I won’t touch you in any way that I shouldn’t. Even when we’re back home and Martina is safe, and you’re at your computer again, there won’t be anything you’d be ashamed to tell your mother. All right?”
She couldn’t find the words to express what she was feeling. J.D. felt protective of her. It was something she’d never expected. And uncharacteristically, she was disappointed. Did it mean that he didn’t want her?
“All right, Jacob,” she whispered softly.
His nostrils flared and his eyes flashed down at her. The hand holding her arm tightened until it hurt. “We’d better get out of here,” he said gruffly. He let her go, turning away as if it took some effort, and held open the door.
Rome was the most exciting place Gabby had ever been. All of it seemed to be interspersed with history and crumbling ruins and romance. J.D. told her that the Colosseum, the Forum, the Ninfeo di Nerone—Nero’s Sanctuary of the Nymphs—and the ruins of Nero’s House of Gold residence were all near the Caelian, Capitoline, and Palatine hills. They decided to concentrate on that area of the city.
There was so much to see that Gabby’s mind seemed to overload. They wandered around the ruins of the Forum first, and she just stared and stared like the eternal tourist.
“Just imagine,” she whispered, as if afraid the ghosts might hear and take offense, “all those centuries ago Romans walked here just as we’re walking today, with the same dreams and hopes and fears we feel. I wonder if they ever thought about how the world would be in the future?”
“I’m sure they did.” J.D. stuck his hands in his pockets, and the wind ran like loving fingers through his crisp, dark hair. With his head thrown back like that, his profile in relief, he could have been one of the early Romans
