This kind of adoration could easily go to a man’s head.
When they reached the raised podium where Miguel’s table had been placed, J.J. noted there were five chairs and five place settings. Two women were already seated at the table. One she instantly recognized—Zita Fuentes, the auburn-haired beauty who had been at Miguel’s home when J.J. and Dom arrived last night. The lovely widow watched J.J., not Miguel, her dark eyes studying J.J. as if she were a specimen under a microscope.
Sizing up the competition? Was Señora Fuentes more than a friend and political supporter? Did she see J.J. as a rival?
Reaching down to grasp J.J.’s hand, Miguel paused and spoke to Señora Fuentes. Nothing more than a cordial hello and thank you for being here today. J.J. sensed an odd tension between the two and knew she had guessed correctly. If there wasn’t something intimate between these two, then one or both of them wished there was.
Miguel led J.J. to the other side of the table where an elderly woman, rather regal in appearance, sat. When they drew nearer, a warm smile appeared instantly on her weathered face.
“Dear Aunt Josephina.” Miguel leaned down and kissed the woman on the cheek.
She grasped his hand and looked directly at J.J. “And this must be your fiancée. Introduce us, dear boy.”
“Aunt Josephina, may I introduce my betrothed, Señorita Jennifer Blair.” He lifted J.J.’s hand to his lips and kissed it. “Querida, this is my friend, Juan Esteban’s aunt, Señora Josephina Esteban y de la Romero viuda Santiago.”
“I am delighted to meet you.” Josephina inspected J.J. closely. “You have done well, Miguel. She is lovely.” The good doctor’s aunt concentrated her sharp gaze on J.J.’s face. “I assume you are madly in love with our Miguel, as we all are. He is irresistible, is he not?”
“Yes, Señora Santiago, I am madly in love with him and I found him irresistible the moment we first met.”
Nodding approval, Aunt Josephina laughed. “You are a brave woman to marry such a beloved man. You know you will have to share him with his people for the rest of your lives.”
“I’m not jealous of Miguel’s love for his people.” J.J. said what she thought this old woman would want to hear. “Knowing how deeply he cares for his country, for his people, only makes me love him all the more.”
“Ah-ha! Now, I know why you have chosen this rare gem to be the first lady of Mocorito.” Aunt Josephina reached out and grasped J.J.’s hand. “Take good care of him, dear child. He is the hope for the future of this country. Give him many fine sons.”
J.J. had to struggle to keep her smile in place. This dear old lady had no idea that her last comment had struck a nerve in J.J., reminding her that men like Miguel—and men like her own father—wanted sons. Appreciated sons. Loved sons.
Miguel wrapped his arm around J.J.’s shoulders again. “Every man wants a son, Aunt Josephina, but I want a daughter, also.”
“Of course you would want a daughter, wouldn’t you?” Josephina smiled. “Jennifer, my dear, if you give him a daughter, beware. A little girl will wrap this one around her little finger.”
J.J. felt as if a huge boulder had been lifted from her chest and she was able to breathe freely again. She had never expected Miguel to express any desire for a daughter or that this old woman who seemed to know him so well would believe Miguel could be beguiled by a little girl of his own.
“Sit down, sit down.” Dolores motioned to them. “I will introduce you and then you must introduce Jennifer as you did on the newscast earlier today.”
The next hour seemed surreal to J.J. from the second round of unrestrained applause for Miguel, to his glowing introduction of her as his fiancée. Because he appeared to be besotted with her, his loyal supporters accepted her wholeheartedly. She couldn’t help wondering how their breakup, after the election, would affect his popularity with his constituents. The best thing for him to do would be to lay all the blame at her feet, to accuse her of not being the woman he’d thought she was, of running off and leaving him when he needed her most. If he did that, he’d probably have women coming out of the woodwork eager and willing to offer him comfort.
Although everyone had been exceptionally nice to her, J.J. felt uneasy. With her stomach muscles tied in knots and her mind swirling with unexplained apprehension, she nibbled at her delicious lunch. Call it a sixth sense or just gut instinct, but she had the strangest feeling that something was wrong—or soon would be. But nothing seemed out of place. She did her best not to be obvious as she surveyed the dining room, the women in attendance and the numerous waiters and waitresses. This entire event was a security agent’s nightmare. But without a staff of agents and a client willing to accept his vulnerability, there was little she could do except stick to Miguel like glue.
As she picked at her dessert, some elaborate chocolate concoction, and listened while Miguel made small talk with the others at their table, a sick feeling hit her in the pit of her belly. Like an animal whose hackles had risen, she sensed danger.
Then it happened.
Someone screamed.
J.J.’s first thought was to protect Miguel.
She shot out of her chair and prepared to hurl herself at him and knock him out of his chair and onto the floor. However, he grabbed her and pulled her down into his lap, as if he intended to protect her, not the other way around.
“Wait.” He spoke only that one word.
Another scream echoed from the back of the room. And then another.
“Snakes!” several women cried out.
“There are snakes crawling around on the floor,” Dolores cried. “Look. See them. There.”
“My God!” Josephina gasped. “Are they poisonous snakes? Does anyone know?”
“There must be at least a dozen of them,” Zita Fuentes said. “Someone must do something immediately.”
Before she could stop him, Miguel came up out of his chair and planted J.J. on the floor, then barreled off the podium and into the audience. Standing quickly, J.J. jumped off the podium right behind him, landing haphazardly on her high heels. She almost smacked into his back when he stopped abruptly to study one of the slithering creatures near his feet.
With women screaming, some climbing on their chairs, a few already on top of the tables and others trying to escape through the nearest exits, which seemed blocked by even more snakes, Miguel picked up one of the reptiles.
Smiling as he held the cold-blooded creature in his hand, Miguel called out in a loud, clear voice. “They are not poisonous. Please stay calm. These are hognose snakes. They’re harmless.”
“They’re not poisonous?” J.J. eased out from behind him and, avoiding the snake he still held, came to his side.
He shook his head. “Completely harmless, but they seemed to have served their purpose.” He glanced around at the panicked women. “Someone released these snakes to make a point.”
“To show you how vulnerable you are, how easily they can get to you,” J.J. said. “The same reason they shot out the tire earlier today. Scare tactics.”
The
