till death us do part
by
rebecca york


This is what they're saying about :

"One of the best writers ever of quality romantic suspense!"

--Melinda Helfer, Romantic Times " delivers page-turning suspense."

--Nora Roberts

" 's writing is fast-paced, suspenseful and loaded with tension."

"A true master of intrigue."

mJayne Arm Krentz

--Rave Reviews

"No one sends more chills down your spine than the very creative and
imaginative Ms York!"

--Melinda Helfer, Romantic ~mess writing is sharp and snappy, a cut
above..."

--The Baltimore Sun "She writes a fast-paced, satisfying thriller."

--Jill Lai, UPI "always tense, always terrific!"

--Arm Wassall, Ann's Worm

This is what they've said about 43 LIGHT STREET:

On SHATTERED VOWS:

"Superlative suspense that will make the hairs on the back of your neck
stand up and scream for help ... a strong love story to win your
heart."

On WHISPERS IN THE NIGHT:

"lA] masterfully plotted novel of romantic suspense."

On ONLY SKIN DEEP:

"lA] strong romance and a cunning mystery."

On TRIAL BY FIRE:.

"43 Light Street keeps getting better and better!"

On HOPSCOTCH:

An electrifying foray into hi-tech skullduggery and sizzling romance.
"

On CRADLE AND ALL:

". heart stopping suspense, daring adventure and uplifting romance."

On WHAT CHILD IS THIS?  :

"Chilling suspense and snowballing excitement from a master of
intrigue."

Romantic Times (U.  S,4.  )

"A , .. wedding?"  she croaked.

Marissa's mouth dropped open.  She wanted to bolt from the room.
Perhaps Jed had read her mind because he kept a hand pounds rmly on her
shoulder.

"Yes," General Sanchez replied.  "It's short notice, but my people will
love the excuse for a pounds esta.  First thing in the morning I'll
contact the village priest and the woman who sees to the bride's
instruction."

This wasn't happening.  Surely this man wasn't seriously planning her
wedding for tomorrow?  Yet, he was.  Married to Jed?  Impossible.

And to think that she'd been forced into this situation.

Dear Reader:

We are delighted to bring you this daring series from Silhouette.

Intrigue TM where resourceful, beautiful women flirt with danger and
risk everything for irresistible, often treacherous

Intrigue--where the stories are full of heart-stopping suspense and
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You won't be able to resist intrigue's exciting mix of danger,
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DID YOU PURCHASE THIS BOOK WITHOUT A COVER?

If you did, you should be aware it is stolen property as it was rep
offed unsold and destroyed by a retailer.  Neither the author nor the
publisher has received any payment for this book.

All the characters in this book have no existence outside the
imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone
bearing the same name or names.  They are not even distantly inspired
by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents
are pure invention.

All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in
part in any form.  This edition is published by arrangement with
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A. " used under licence.

First published in Great Britain 1996

Silhouette Books, Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey

TW9 I SR

Ruth Glick and Eileen Buckholtz 1995

ISBN 0 373 22318 8

Directory

43 LIGHT STREET

Room

ADVENTURES IN TRAVEL

ABIGAIL FRANKLIN, Ph.  D. Clinical Psychology

INNER HARBOUR PRODUCTIONS

THE LIGHT STREET FOUNDATION

KATHRYN MARTIN-McQUADE, M. D. Branch Office, Medizone Labs

O'MALLEY & O'MALLEY

Detective Agency

LAURA ROSWELL, LL.  B.

Attorney at Law

SABRINA'S FANCY

Lobby

STRUCTURAL DESIGN GROUP

NOEL ZACHARIAS

Paralegal Service

L. ROSSINI

Superintendent

Lower Level

Printed and bound in Great Britain by Mackays of Chatham PLC, Chatham

Chapter One

It required effort to keep the smile on his face.

With his thoughts in sudden turmoil and his fingers tightening
dangerously around a tumbler of planter's punch, Jed Prentiss stared
across the crowded room at the woman with the up swept golden curls.
Was that Marissa?  Here to screw things up for him--again.

The minister of economic development asked him a question, and he
replied automgtically in Spanish.  At the same time he shifted ~ghtly
to the right to catch another look at the blonde through the crowd.

She turned with a graceful motion to put a champagne flute down on a
passing waiter's tray, and he got a glimpse of her face.  He.  was
right.  It was Marissa Devereaux.  He'd recognize that silky hair
anywhere.  It crowned a heart-shaped face with innocent-looking blue
eyes, a petite nose and a mouth that could twist facts and half truths
together so adroitly you didn't know you'd been had until the middle of
the next week.

In fact, she was almost as good at undercover work as he was.  Except
that she took foolish chances.  As if she had nothing to lose.

Dame!  She was the last person he wanted to see.  What the hell was she
doing in San Marcos--much less at a party being held at Miguel
Sanchez's town house?  What possible reason would San Marcos's army
commander in chief have for inviting her?  Jed couldn't think of one.

After promising that he'd talk with the minister about mining loans
later in the week, he excused himself and made his way across the room.
The nearer he got to Marissa, the more bumingly aware of her he became.
He couldn't possibly be close enough to smell her perfume, yet he
imagined the scent of gardenia drifting toward him.  She was wearing a
little black dress that she probably didn't think of as sexy.  But it
emphas'~xl her narrow waist and sassy little hips.  He hadn't seen the
front, but he knew it would be clinging to her high, firm breasts.  He
scowled.  He'd better keep his mind on business.  He could see she was
finishing a conversation with Thomas Leanalto, the outspoken university
professor who'd made his r~utafion with pie-in-the-sky blueprints for
turning the Central American republic into a socialist paradise.  The
professor was on Jed's list, too.  But he could wait.

When Leandro went off toward the buffet table, Jed stepped into
Marissa's path.  Her cheeks took on a hint of heightened color, and her
blue eyes widened and darkened: but the momentary lapse was her only
betrayal of surprise--or anything else,

No matter how many times they met, he was never prepared for her
reaction to him.  As if she were suppressing strong emotions she didn't
want him to read--or couldn't acknowledge.  Whenever he'd tried to find
out what was going on below the surface of those beautiful blue eyes,
they had iced over.  The rebuffs had hurt his ego.  He'd vowed never to
let it happen again.

"Jed.  How nice to see you.  Are you here on behalf of the Global
Bank?"

Smooth, he thought.  As if they were nothing more than friendly
colleagues who traveled in the same business circles.

"Yes," he replied, matching her coolness.

They studied each other carefully.

What was she planning for the evening, he wondered.  Did she already
know he'd be prowling the same ~ Or was she as unpleasantly surprised
as he had been?  Only one of them was going to leave the capital city
with the evidence he'd come to steal.  He was going to make damn sure
of that.

"You're a long way from Baltimore," he remarked.  She hesitated before
replying.  "Yes."

"So what brings you to San Marcos?"

"Oh, you know.  My usual.  I'm scouting out off-the beaten-track
vacation locations for Adventures in Travel."

"Latch onto anything exciting?"

"I should be able to set up a jungle trip to some partially excavated
Mayan ruins.  And there are excellent snorkeling and diving
opportunities along the coral reef.  I think I can guide visitors to a
stingray feeding location."

"Sounds dangerous."

"Not when you know what you're doing."  "Be careful."  "Oh, I will."

"I didn't realize you knew Miguel Sanchez."

"I don't, Ted Bailey at the embassy was kind enough to get me on the
guest list."

"Then you're on assignment for the State Department?"

"No."

It was a good bet she was lying.  He knew she often mixed undercover
work for Victor Kirkland at State with travel agency research.  He was
about to probe a little further when one of the uniformed staff
approached

"Senorita Devereaux?"

"SI."

"Telifono para us ted "

She gave ed an apologetic look.  "I'll see you later."

"Expecting an important call?"

For a split second she loolexi as if she weren't sure how to reply.
Then she shrugged and followed the man who had delivered the message.

As Jed watched the servant lead her toward a back hall, he wondered if
there was some way he could listen in on the phone conversation.

He'd memorized the floor plan of the house.  There was another access
to the hall, from a door off the enclosed patio.

As if he had nothing more important to do than get a breath of fresh
air, he wandered casually toward.  the

- French doors.

When he stepped onto the s~O~e terrace, the tropical" night, rich with
the scent of flowers, enveloped him.  It took several moments for his
eyes to adjust to the darkness.  As they did, he went very still.
Marissa had come out the side door he'd been heading for and was
walking rapidly toward the far wing of the house where the office
complex was located.  The office complex that was strictly off-limits
to everyone except Sanchez and his handpicked staff.  Jed had heard
stories ecutions of suspected spies caught there.

Didn't Marissa know the risk she was taking?  For that matter, didn't
she know there was a guard?  Jed's gaze probed the darkness.

There was supposed to be a guard.  He didn't seem to be in sight.  Had
Marissa taken care of him?  Jed cursed under his breath.  This was just
the kind of audacious maneuver she was so good at pulling off..

He was about to follow her; then, before he could, he saw a figure ooze
out of the shadows like a night creature crawling out from under a
rock.  Without making a sound, the man padded after her.

The hair on the back of Jed's neck stood on end as if a cold breeze had
blown across the patio.  Marissa was in deep banana oil.  Unless he
could stop her before she reached the office wing.

ABOVE THE SOUND of the mariachi band playing at the party, Marissa
thought she heard a voice nearby.  Her whole body went rigid' while she
waited for a large hand to clamp down on her shoulder.  When the blow
didn't fall, she sprinted the rest of the way to the office wing.  The
heavy door was unlocked.  That had been part of the deal.  Jerking it
open, she threw herself inside and stood with her shoulders pressed
against the carved mahogany;

The door at her back gave her only a partial feeling of security.  Now
that she was here, she wished she'd come up with some other plan to get
the information Victor wanted.  Even for her, this was taking a hefty
chance.  But it should work out all right.

She'd paid enough bribes to supplement the San Mar-cos military budget
for six months.  ~

Still, as she struggled to bring her breathing into normal range she
peered down the hallway searching for signs of life.  The place was as
silent as a tomb.  The only illumination came from a pair of ornate
sconces that looked 'as if they held fifteen-watt bulbs.  Since the
electricity in San Marcos was likely to be off for half of any
twenty-four-hour period, the low wattage made sense.  Probably Sanchez
was using his own generating plant and needed the bulk of his power
supply tonight for the party.

Her high heels sounded like a flamenco dancer as she started down the
polished tile passageway.  Slipping off her pumps, she looked nervously
over her shoulder, half expecting to see ed Prentiss behind her
striding down the

hall to catch up.  If anyone bollixed up things tonight, it would be
him!

All she'd needed a half hour ago, as she was psyching herself for this
raid, was to glance up and discover him stalking his way toward her
like a jaguar about to pounce on a tethered goat.

Her hands clamped down so tightly on her evening bag that her
fingernails dug into the expensive fabric.  When she realized what she
was doing, she lousened her grip.  She'd come here to do a job.  And
she would finish it and reappear at the party before anyone noticed she
was mi~ing.

As she began to tiptoe down the hall again, shoes in hand, she cursed
herself for not knowing more about Jed's recent activities.  Then
again, she hadn't had time to brush up on every agent who'd worked in
Latin America before she'd come to San Marcos.  She'd better stop
obsessing about him before she made some kind of fatal mistake.

With a quick glance at her watch, she saw that three minutes had
elapsed since she'd ducked out of the party.  That left only a little
more than fifteen to get in and out of.  here with the goods Victor was
paying her to bring home.

At least Sanchez's office was on the ground floor, she thought as she
turned the corner and started for the end of the hall.  She felt less
exposed as soon as she'd stepped into the anteroom and quietly shut the
door behind her.

The room was spartan, with a secretary's desk, a few wooden chairs and
some filing cabinets.  Marissa gave them only a qfiick glance.  The
good stuff was in Sanchez's private office under lock and key.

xrlctor had briefed her on the likely places to look, so she went
straight to his desk and knelt behind it.  His mo~t confidential files
were in the two bottom drawers.  Willing s~eadiness into her hands, she
extracted a small case from her evening bag.  What appeared to be a
manicure set was really a set of lock-picking tools.  A quick look
through the contents of the first drawer told her that she'd struck
out.  And she only had ten minutes left.

Teeth clenched, she worked the other lock.  Then she came across a
stack of coded papers neatly filed in manila folders.  She couldn't
read the text.  But this was what Victor had told her to look for.

Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she placed the first one in the
center of the desk blotter and got out the small camera disguised as a
lipstick.  Methodically she began snapping pictures of the
incriminating letters and other documents.

She was almost finished when a noise in the hall made the hair on her
scalp bristle.

Someone was coming!

Sweeping the papers into the folder, she had them back in place and the
drawer locked again in fifteen seconds.

Now all she had to do was get out of here.  And quickly.  A desperate
glance at the barred window told her she wasn't going to escape ih that
direction.  With camera and evening bag clutched in her hand, she boned
for the only other possibility--the general's private bathroom.

" ~EP~s TO?"

Seal stopped dead on the path, just managing to avoid crashing into a
young Hispanic woman who had stepped out of the darkness to block his
progress.

"Let me by," he answered in Spanish, only haft hearing her words as he
tried to push past her to get to Mar-issa.

Her fingers clamped onto the sleeve of his dinner j~cket.  "~led.  It's
really you.  I thought at first I'd made you up."

She stopped abruptly, looking furtively from side to side as if she
were terrified of being overheard.  The urgency of her touch arrested
him, and he peered at her more closely.  There was something familiar
about her face.  But on the darkened patio he couldn't place her.  "I
must"

"It's Clarita," she interrupted.  "Don't you know me?  I'm so glad you
came back to see us."

The features resolved themselves into familiar lines.  Clarita.  Miguel
Sanchez's daughter.  She was more mature now.  A girl on the verge of
womanhood.  She'.  d been eleven when Jed had been here six years ago
helping the general train his troops.  He'd recognized her as the
no-glected' child.  of a rich man who had more important things to do
than worry about his offspring's happiness.  When he'd come home from
the training camp with Miguel on the weekends, he'd tried to make a
small difference in the little girl's life.

"I heard them talking about you, so I took a peek at the guest list for
the party," she told him.  "I knew you would he here.  Like old times.
When everything was simple."  Her tone was high and wistful, as if she
longed' for the past.

"Clarita, I can't stay here and talk to you now."

She continued as if she hadn't heard.  "It's all right.  Do you
remember how you taught my parrot to say 'no sweat'?"  she asked
eagerly.  "He still remembers.  Come

While she prattled on about the fun they'd had together, time was
ticking by for Marissa, She had disappeared minutes ago--along with the
man who was following her.

He forced a false heartiness into his response.  "It's great to see you
again, but I have important business to take care of.  We'll talk
later.  Okay?"  Gently but firmly he disengaged Clarita's fingers from
his sleeve and started toward the offices at a rapid clip, praying he
wasn't too late.

She stayed right behind him.  "Not."

The strangled rasp was like fingernails scraping across a blackboard.

"I'll come right back, ni~ta," he promised, using the old endearment.

"I'm not a little girl anymore!  And you must not go into the office
wing.  I know the rules.  It's not allowed.  They'll shoot you if they
catch you."

"It's okay.  The general knows," he lied.  Anything to set her mind at
ease.

"I don't think so."  She looked almost frenzied as she reached to grab
hold of him again.  "Jed, I can't let you do it."

He peered into her eyes and knew instinctively that if he tried to
wrench himself away she'd start to scream.  Then every guard in the
place would come charging onto the patio to find out what he was doing
to her.  And when Marissa came back out, they'd he here waiting for
her.

He began talking in a low, soothing voice, telling Clarita it was all
right.  Telling her that nothing was going to happen to him.  That he'd
come back to her in a few minutes.

But all the time he was talking, he.  had the sick feeling that he was
already too late.

MARISS,~$ GAZE DARTED around the little room as she locked the door
behind her.  There was a small window.  But it was also barred.

Someone rattled the knob and began to pound on the door.

"Come out of there?  a voice commanded in Spanish.

"Just a minute," she answered in the same language, expecting a large
fist to splinter the wood.

Sink.  Toilet.  Medicine cabinet.  Tile floor.

Marissa logked down at the camera still clutched in her hand.  If she
didn't want to get caught with the incriminating evidence, she'd have
to flush it down the toilet.  If it would go down the toilet.  Or may
he she could just flush the film.

"Come out or I'll shoot through the door," the angry voice demanded.

Desperate now, she thrust her hand into her purse to check for the
empty film wrapper.  Her fingers closed around the small zip-lock
container in which she'd stowed the pfils that were supposed to keep
you from getting Montezuma's revenge.

It was big enough to hold the camera.  Did she dare?  Ignoring the
pounding on the door, she emptied the pills into the toilet bowl.  Then
she slipped her camera and film wrapper into the bag, squeezed out the
air and sealed the strip across the top.  Working as quietly as she
could, she lifted the lid on the tank and thrust the plastic bag
inside, hardly able to breathe as she watched it sink to the bottom,

The whole operation seemed to take hours.  She knew only seconds had
passed as she flushed the pills away and rusfied her clothing as if she
were putting herself back together after using' the facilities.

"You have ten seconds, or I'll shoot."

"No.  Please."  Marissa didn't have to fake the panic rising in her
voice as she tried to unlock the door.  The mechanism stuck, and her
fingers stung as she twisted the

As soon as she'd snapped the lock open, the doorknob flew out of her
hand.  Wide-eyed, she backed away, staring at the man who stood with a
gun trained on her chest.  He wasn't wearing a uniform, but he had the
look of a policeman.

"I said come out of there."  With his free hand he grabbed her wrist
and yanked her roughly out of the bathroom.  "What were you doing in El
Jefe's office?"  he snapped.

"What a question.  You can see what I was doing.  The ladies' room was
occupied."  Even as she did her best to look embarrassed, she was
evaluating the odds of getting away from an armed man.  Not good.  "I
had to find another quickly.  It was an emergency."

"No one is allowed in this wing of the house."

"I'm truly sorry.  I didn't know."  "How did you get in?"

She gestured vaguely.  "I--I just walked through the door."

"It was locked!"

~ - "No."  She shook her head as if she were a bewildered tourist
caught trying to snap a forbidden picture of the treasures in the
cathedral.  But her heart was pounding so hard that she could hardly
catch her breath.

He kept the gun pointed at her while he picked up the phone, dialed a
number and spoke into the receiver.

His voice was low, his Spanish rapid.  But she caught enough to know
that her goose was cooked.  He was calling for reinforcements.

When he returned his full attention to her, his eyes were hard.

Marissa tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry.  Pointedly he
looked down at her stocking feet and then at the shoes she'd set down
on the desk.  "You're going to give me some straight answers, ~egor/ta,
or you are going to be truly sorry."

Chapter Two

ed heard several pairs of feet hammer against the paving stones.  He
whirled and cursed as four khaki-clad soldiers moving in tight
formation came dashing along the path from the direction of the guard
station.  They all carried machine guns, and they looked as if they
were on their way to the offices to foil an assassination attempt.

"Holy mother!"  Clarita whispered a more ladylike version of Jed's
muttered exclamation.  Her eyes grew large, and the blood drained from
her face.  "I told you," she whispered, "It's dangerous to go there.
"

"They're not after you."  Jed reached out to put a reassuring hand on
her shoulder.  She ducked away from his grasp and ran toward the
bedroom wing of the house.

She had the right idea, Jed thought as he watched her disappear into
the safety of the interior.  He should probably blast out of here, too,
while the blasting was good.  He knew how Miguel Sanchez treated spies
and how his twisled logic could quickly turn a friend into an enemy.

He glanced toward the lighted windows of the reception hall, wondering
if anyone else had heard the guards.  The guests were all drinking and
eating and talking as before.  Apparently the mariachi music had
drowned out the sounds from the patio.  Or perhaps no one chose to
acknowledge the disturbance.

He was on his own.  And so was Marissa.

His chest tightened as he strode rapidly after the soldiers.

One of them was standing at attention in front of the door of the
office wing.  Too bad it wasn't a man he'd helped train.

"dQu~pasa?"  he asked.

"This area is off-limits, seA or

"I'm Jed Prentiss, a good friend' of General Sanchez."

The guard shifted the machine gun in his grasp, as if he were unsure
about aiming the gun at a good friend of El Jefe.  Yet he obviously had
his orders.  "You'd better go back to the party."

Jed stood his ground.

The sentry, who'd probably never had his authority questioned before,
looked uncomfortable.

The stalemate lasted less than a minute--until the rest of the armed
contingent returned.  The soldiers were corting a man in civilian
clothes who had a firm hold on a woman's arm.

It was Marissa.

Until Jed actually saw her being frog-marched down the hall, he
realized he'd been hoping against hope that some other crisis had
prompted the summoning of the guards.  '

Her face was paper white.  It went a shade paler when she spotted him
with the sentry, and he knew in that instant that she was thinking he
was the one who'd turned her in.

"What's he doing here?"  the civilian snapped.

"He says he's a good friend of El Jefe, sir."

"Go back where you belong," the man in charge said in clipped tones.

All at once the perfumed air of the tropical night was suffocating.
This wasn't the good old U. S. of A. where you were presumed innocent
until proven guilty.  This was the sovereign republic of San Marcos
where a two-bit official could slap you in jail and throw away the key
on the word of an underworld informant.

Hands resting easily at his sides, Jed summoned up his most guiltless
look.  "My name's Jed Prentiss.  I helped the general set up his
training program at Conquista Fuerte.  "

"So you say."

"You can check it out easily enough."  Jed risked shifting his gaze
from the man to Marissa.  Her body was rigid, her breath shallow.  He
suspected that if she un-stiffened her knees, she'd topple to the
ground.  His green eyes locked with her blue ones, and he saw how hard
she was struggling not to fall apart.  He could feel her terror.  It
cut through his vital organs like a machete blade.  And he knew that
until a few moments ago she hadn't dreamed how much trouble she could
get into in the nominally democratic republic of San Marcos.

He wanl~xl to ~ her she'd been a damn feel to raid the office of a
general who wielded power with the zeal of a medieval king.  At the
same time he wanted to wrest her from her captor, fold her into his
arms and spirit her out of danger like the hero of an action-adventure
film.  It was an exceedingly fleeting fantasy.  Even with the element
of surprise, all he'd get for the grand gesture was a bullet in the
back.

"If she's a spy, I'm a Saudi Arabian she' rich he said.  " I was
talking to her a few minutes ago at the party.  She's a scared-stiff
travel agent who wandered into the wrong part of the house.  "

"Perhaps."  The undercover man didn't sound as if he gave the
explanation much credence.

"Please.  I didn't do anything.  Please let me go," Marissa implored.

Jed's mind scrambled for any sort of leverage he could use.  If he
claimed Marissa was a friend of his, he'd probably get himself detain~
for questioning.  But maybe he still had enough influence with Sanchez
to save her.

"Let me speak to the general."  "He's in a meeting."  I'll wait.  "

"No.  You will stop poking your nose in where it doesn't belong,"

"The general will want"

"I will arrest you along with this female spy if you're not out of here
in five seconds."

Marissa's eyes were bleak.  "You'd better leave," she murmured to
Jed.

"/Silencio!  You will not speak to each other."

Jed hated to abandon her like this.  But he'd run out of options.  The
only thing he could do was offer her a word of comfort.  "Everything
will be all right.  I'll tell the American embassy what's happened.,"

She acknowledged the help with the bar eat of nods, but her expression
was starting to glaze over.

The man holding her arm jerked her sharply.  She winced as he led her
toward a door on the far side of the patio.  The last view of her he
had was of her rigid back and the blond curls he'd first spotted across
the crowded reception.

As Tim OUARDS TROTr~ Marissa away, one of the guests from the party
pressed back into the foliage of the bird of paradise tree where he was
standing.  Eyes narrowed, he'd been.  watching the scene on the patio
with acute interest.

He'd seen Prentiss slip out of the reception room minutes after
Devereaux had also disappeared.  And he'd made a silent bet with
himself that the two events were no coincidence.  It was gratifying to
confirm that he was right.  Also a bit unsettling.

Devereaux had told everybody who would listen that she was a travel
agent.  Prentiss was supposed to be on a fact-finding mi.  ~ion for the
Global Bank.  But it appeared the two of them had more compelling
reasons to be in San Marcos.  Also, it seemed they knew each other,
although neither one had admitted as much~ Probably they were working
together.  And it looked as if Devereaux had gotten caught with her
hand in the cookie jar,

so to speak.

His lips thinned.  Had she discovered anything incriminating before
they'd bagged her?  He'd have to find out quickly.  And make sure she
didn't get a chance to talk.

For several seconds he enjoyed watching Prentiss stand with his hands
clenched at his sides.  At least he had the satisfaction of knowing the
bastard was sweating.  But the man in the bushes didn't let the
pleasure show on his face.

Deep in thought, he left his hiding place and strode toward the
mansion.  He'd never met Prentiss, although he'd heard of him.  He was
a once-top agent who was now washed up in the intelligence business. 
The rumor was he'd lost his nerve.  But he'd toughed it out just fine
with Sanchez's man.

Too bad.  Prentiss and Devereaux were another problem he'd have to
solve before he made any final decisions about Sanchez-.  But right now
he'd~better get in touch with his man in Junipero Province to make Sure
nothing out of the ordinary was happening out there.

J~o sruoIEO CASSANORA Devereaux, noting the strain etched into her
profile.  She looked so much like Mar-issa--so much that it was
painful.

"Would you tell the others what you told me?"  she asked in a strangled
voice.

It had been three days since Marissa was tala~ away by Sanchez's
guards.  Jed had arrived at Cassie's renovated East Baltimore row house
at five in the afternoon, given her a Shinto/fly of her $ister's
predicament and collapsed into bed for a few hours of badly needed
sleep.  While he'd been conked out, she'd made half a dozen phone
calls, and he was damn impressed with the group of people she'd so
quickly assembled.

He looked around the living room at the circle of faces.  He knew Jason
Zacharias, of course.  They'd worked together on a number of undercover
assignments, including the time he'd come to rescue Jason and his wife
Noel from a Scottish megalomaniac--and Jason had ended up saving him.
The other women of 43 Light Street and their husbands were strangers.
But he knew they were Marissa's friends.  He'd always thought of her as
so cold.  But he could see from the faces around him that they were all
deeply concerned about the turn of events in San Mawos.  And they'd do
anything they could to get her out of this mess.

He was especially struck by the couple sitting close together on the
couch.  She was Jo O'Malley, who'd been introduced as a private
detective.  He was Cameron Randolph, an electronics genius.  Jo was
expecting their first child, and it was obvious how happy they were
about the pregnancy.  Still, $o had cancelled a prenatal appointment to
attend this meeting.

"Start at the party," Cassie requested.

Jed did, skipping over his personal reactions to Mar-issa and sticking
with the facts, "I went straight from Sanchez's to the American
embassy, but they couldn't do anything until nine the next morning.  By
then it was already too late to complain that an American citizen named
Marissa Devereaux was being held incommunicado by General Miguel
Sanchez."  He shifted in his chair.

"Too bad the embassy didn't get right on it.  I checked with the San
Marcos Department of Immigration the next day and found out that no one
named Marissa Devereanx had entered the country in the past three
weeks--the legal limit for a renewable tourist visa."

Io's eyes narrowed.  "Somebody must have been working overtime
searching for her entry visa.  But it paid off.  If she's not legally
in the country, there's no way to lodge any kind of official
complaint."

"You've got it," Jed agreed.

"I've been burning up the phone lines to the State Department?  Cassie
added.  " Marci was on an undercover assignment for our old
boss--Victor Kirkland.  He was willing to speak off the record because
I've still got my security clearance.  He says he's sorry, but he can't
do anything to help her because State can't acknowledge her mission.

"Can the U.S. State Department really operate that way?"  The question
came from a woman sitting in the corner.  Small and delicate, she had
curly brown hair and big brown eyes that seemed to stare right through
Cas-she.  Her name was Jenny Larki% and she w~s blind.  Jed had
wondered at first what she was doing at the meeting, since it was
obvious that she had less experience than the others with the
unofficial workings of government--or with detective work.  But he'd
quickly discovered that her analytic mind and phenomenal memory were an
asset to the group.  ~

"I'm afaid they can do whatever they want to, as long as they don't get
caught," Cassie explained.  "But I'm not going to let Victor get away
with stonewalling me."

~Ied admired ~ defiant posture, but he didn't hold out much hope from
that quarter.  He knew the rules.  And so did Marissa.  She'd taken a
job where it was understood she was on her own if there was trouble.

Until now, Abby Fvonklin had been silent.  "What else have you got for
us?," she asked him.

"After the scam at Immigration, I didn't expect to find a record of a
Marissa Devereaux checking in to a hotel.  But I put it around that I'd
he at the Cart Primo and that I was willing to pay for information
about a blond grin ga travel agent who might have been in Santa
Isabella within the past few days.

"I got lucky with a portero from El Grande who remembered commenting on
Marissa's snorkeling equipment.  He took her to room 345."

"So you let yourself in and had a look around the premises," Jo
guessed.  Jed was pretty sure she'd have done exactly the same thing.
Before her pregnancy, anyway.

"Right.  The room had been ragged out.  But the maid had forgotten to
replace the notepad by the phone.  The top sheet looked clean.  But I
could make out the impression of the previous message, which was the
name of a taxi company and Miguel Sanchez's address."

"I couldn't go into' court with that," Clan Cassidy muttered.  As an
assistant state's attorney, he knew the rules of evidence.

Cassie 'slammed her fist against the arm of her chair.  "I've been
begging MarCi for years not to keep taking these assignments.  I told
her this one was too dangerous.  Damn her.  What's wrong with her? Does
she want to get herself killed?"  She shot Abby a pleading look.

The woman shifted uncomfortably in her chair.  "There are reasons why
she takes risks other people would consider unacceptable."

Startled, Jed stared at the attractive brunette.  She'd been introduced
as a psychologist.  And, like most head-shrinkers, she'd shut up and
let everyone else do the talking.  It sounded as if she'd been seeing
Marissa professionally.  Remembering the way Marissa had always

struggled to hide her emotions from him, he was se'v.  ed with sudden
regret that he'd never tried to understand her; he'd only reacted to
what he perceived as her cold arrogance.

"Is that all you're going to say?"  Cassie persisted, her voice fierce.
"Won't anybody stick their neck out for Marci?"

"It's not a matter of sticking my neck out," Abby said gently.  "You
know it would he a breach of professional ethics to talk about the
things Marissa and I have discussed at her therapy sessions."

Cassie looked down at her hands.

"You think someone betrayed Madssa?"  Jenny asked Jed.

"I know she wouldn't have crossed the patio unless she'd been assured
it would he empty.  There could have been a backup security system only
Sanchez knows about.  Even a silent alarm," Jed observed.  "Or someone
at the party could have spotted her heading for forbidden territory and
alerted security."

"Who?"  Cassie snapped.

"Any of over a hundred guests.  She was talking to Thomas Leandro just
before she left.  But there were a lot of other people there.  One of
them might have jumped at the chance to do the general a favor.  Or it
could he someone with his own ax to grind.  Pedro Harara, the president
of the Banco Nacional, doesn't much like American women."

"Why not?"  Cassie asked.

"He married one who caught him in bed with his secretary and took him
for several million dollars when she moved back North again."

The laughter around the room cut some of the tension.

Jed answered more questions, gave more opinions and assessments, all
the while trying to keep certain pictures out of his mind--pictures of
what could he happening to Marissa.  He couldn't allow emotion to cloud
his judgment.  And he dared not let his private fears show on his face
because that might panic the group.

Jason had been silen~t through most of the discussions letting the
others ask questions.  Then he began to formulate a plan.

"Too harebrained," Jed snapped when the security expert had finished.

"Do you have a better idea?"

"Give me a little time to think."

MAmSSA SHIFTED uncomfortably on the narrow bunk.  It was made of wooden
planks and topped with a straw tick that prickled where it touched her
skin.  Not very comfortable, but at least the mattress wasn't resting
directly on the unwashed stone floor.

She shuddered.  She'd been in this tiny cell for three days, and she
knew she was in danger of coming unglued.  After the scene on the
patio, two women had strip-searched her before she'd been locked up.

It had been humiliating, but thank God they hadn't found anything
incriminating.  Now she was praying that her hasty addition to
Sanchez's toilet tank didn't gum up the works.

At first she'd huddled on the bunk, expecting the general to
interrogate her as soon as possible.  But minutes of waiting had turned
into hours.  Was he researching her background before he called her
upstairs--to give himself an advantage?

That theory had gone out the window as hours dragged into days.  She
still hadn't seen the general.  Or anyone else, since the guards were
shoving her meager meals of rice and beans through a slot in the
door.

Some of her clothes and her bag of toilet des preceded the food on her
second afternoon.  Wondering if anyone was watching on a hidden camera,
she changed out of her rumpled black dress into cotton slacks and a
T-shirt.  The knowledge that someone had been in her hotel room wasn't
comforting.  Nor was the lack of response to any of the pleas and
questions she'd shouted through the door.

What kind of mind game was Sanchez playing, anyway?

It was hard not to feel completely abandoned, but she didn't allow
herself to lose hope.  Still aware that some-one might be spying on
her, she furtively took some of the things from her coimetic kit and
slipped them into her pocket.  If zhe was very -lucky, she'd get a
chance to use

Then, for as long as she could keep moving, she did what exercises she
could manage without getting down on the squalid floor in her tiny
cell.  ~After fatigue claimed her, there was nothing to do but lie on
the bunk and think.

First she tried to figure out how she'd gotten caught.  Most likely the
dirty rat who'd taken her money to unlock the door to the office
complex and disappear for twenty minutes had turned her in, Or he could
have gotten nailed himself.  Or someone else at the party besides Jed
might have figured out what she was doing.

Thomas Leandro?  The balding professor who spouled Marxist doctrine and
combed what hair he had in a swirl around his glow.  y dome.  In a
strong wind, he looked like a bird's neat that had blown out of a
tree.

Pedro Harara?  The f'r~e-foot-three banker who dressed like a character
in a thirties gangster movie and wore a girdle to hide his paunch. He'd
almost put her to sleep standing up with his scintillating discussion
of international fund transfers.

Louis Rinaldo?  The tough-looking mioister of development who'd worked
his way up from street gang member to cabinet officer.  He wore three
gold rings on his fingers to prove he'd made it.

Or what about the man who called himself William John.  non, the one
with the horse face and the drawl that stretched all the way to Texas?
She had no idea who he was or what he was doing at the party, but she'd
had him on her list to check out.  Too bad she'd never gotten a
chance.

The only guest she was sure hadn't given her up to E/ .  ~efe was
President Juan Palmeriz.  San Marcos's elected leader haled Sanchez and
was praying for an excuse to get him out of power.  But his fear of.  a
coup was so great that he didn't go to sleep at night without first
looking under the bed

After hours of fruitless speculation, Marissa felt as if she'd go
insane if she didn't have someone to talk to.  Maybe that was what
Sanchez wanted.  And she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of
breaking her.  So she began to make up long silent conversations with
various friends and enemies.

She mentally discussed with Abby the character defects that had gotten
her into this mess.  Abby kept saying it wasn't her fault; she wished
she could be as sure.

She railed at Victor Kirkland for sending her on a mission that, in
retrospect, had been foolhardy.

She tried to rehearse plausible answers to the questions Sanchez was
eventually going to ask her.  If he wasn't simply planning to let her
rot here.

But when she felt most alone and terrified, she talked toed Prentiss.
Particularly at night when it was dark and he couldn't see her face.

She knew that was a silly contrivance.  He wasn't even in the cell with
her.  She wasn't sure she could trust him.  She didn't even know
whether he was still in San Mar-cos.  Yet it was somehow very
comforting to lie in bed and'

mentany whisper to him in the dark, as if they were lovers instead of
uneasy rivals.

Somebody turned me in.  Was it you?  She posed the question to him in
her mind for the dozenth time, holding her breath as if she really were
waiting for his anI wouldn't do that, honey bee.

She wanted to believe him with all her heart.  For the time being, she
gave him the benefit of the doubt.

You're the only one who knows what's happened to me.

Yeah.

Are you doing anything to get me out of here?

She waited in the blackness, her mind forming the answer she wanted to
hear: he was moving heaven and earth to spring her from this cell.  But
it was hard to have much faith in wishful thinking.  Or anything else.
She close~l her eyes and allowed herself to imagine that he had shifted
to his side, that he had put his muscular arms around her so that they
lay on the bunk spoon fashion.  She sighed and scooted a little closer,
almost swearing she could smell the spicy after-shave he wore, feel the
hard wall of his chest against the back of her' head.  She pictured his
broad shoulders and the sun-streaked hair that always made him look as
if he'd climbed out of a lifeguard's chair.  It was so good to delegate
some of the fear and uncertainty to him.  To let him give her his pro
lection

She longed to ask more of him.  Gently she touched her finger to her
lips, stroking back and forth with a feather-light touch, imagining
what it might be like to kiss him.  A little shiver went through her.
She'd wanted to taste his mouth.  A couple of years ago she'd finally
admitl~d that to herself.  Almost every time they met, she looked at
his lips.  But there was no such thing as sharing a chaste kiss with a
man like Jed.  He would want more.

Vivid images invaded her mind, and she could feel her body trembling.
In the darkness she struggled for control-for the calm center of her
soul where she was in charge of her life.  It took longer than usual.
Her emotions were in too much turmoil, her nerves too raw.  But finally
her will prevailed the way it always did.

Years ago she'd figured out what was necessary for her survival.  Like
the way she'd acted to keep Jed at arm's length.  She knew he'd been
p~.  led at first.  The perplexity had changed to a mixture of anger
and hurt.  That had made her ache inside.  She'd wanted so badly to
erase the wounded look from his eyes.

But he frightened her too much.  He was too male.  Too assertive.  Too
much a creature of the tough, aggressive habits he'd developed during
long years as an undercover agent.

He was too dangerous for her.  The wrong kind of man entirely.  If she
was going to dare a relationship with anyone, it should be with a mild,
unthreatening guy who wouldn't make demands.  Who'd let her set the
pace.  Yet fate kept throwing her' into Jed's path in various Latin
American countries where they were both doing undercover work.  And
every time they met, she felt ~ a moth being drawn to a flame.

But it was different now.  Here, in this cell, where she was so
defenseless and alone, she was too weak to give up the small amount of
comfort she gained by pretending he was lying in back of her, his body
shielding hers, ready to overpower the guards when they finally opened
the door.  With a soft sigh she closed her eyes and hugged her arms
around her shoulders.

J~ ~ ~c~ in the comfortable wing chair in Abby Franklin's office at 43
Light Street.  The setting was tastefully soothing, and he tried to fit
in by crossing his legs easily at the ankles and sipping at the mug of
coffee she'd offered him, Probably he wasn't fooling Dr.  Franklin.
This crack-of-dawn meeting was his last stop in Baltimore before be
decided whether or not to risk his life on a mi.  ~ion that had about a
fifty-pc~t chance of succeeding.

"I appreciate your getting together with me so early," he said, setting
down the mug.

"I appreciate your volunteering to get Marissa out of San Marcos."

"I'm not exactly working for free."

Abby ignored the clarification.  "Now that we know for sure that the
State Depa~haent won't do a damn thing, you may be her only chance."

"You might have to come up with another alternative.  I haven't decided
whether I'm going to take the job."

"Jason thinks you're the one who can do it."

He ignored the vote of confidence and sprang a question on her.  "Is
Marissa just a danger to herself?  Or to others, as well?"

"She's not a danger to herself," Abby retorted.  "You told Cassandra
her sister takes crazy chances."

"That's a loose interpretation of what I said."

"You have to tell me what's going on in Marissa's head before I make a
commitment."

Abby looked regretful.  "Jed, she trusts me not to talk about our
sessions.  I can't betray her confidences to yOU .  " '

"Not even to save her life?"

Abby paused before replying, "Let me put it this way.  If you go back
to San Marcos knowing certain things about her that she hasn't chosen
to reveal to you, she'll sense it--and react negatively.  And she'll
never trust either one of us again."

"Let me put it this way," be countered.  "Your group of conspirators
has hatched a very flaky plan.  And when

I get to San Marcos, I'm not going to be able to clue in Marissa.
She'll have to take my opening moves on blind faith.  Then the two of
us are going to have to pull off a performance worthy of the stars in a
Gilbert and Sullivan operetta.  Is she up to that?  Or will she get
both of us killed?  "

Abby knit her fingers together in her lap.  "Jed, I can't tell you very
much.  But perhaps you've sensed that she has strong feelings for
you."

"Yeah.  She hates me."  "Hardly."  "Then what?"

"You have to work that out for yoursg.  IL"

"I may not get the chance.  From the way she looked at me when the
guards took her into custody, I'd be willing to bet she thinks I'm the
one who turned her in to Sanchez."

"You're describing a situation in which she was under a great deal of
stress.  She's had some time to think things through."  Abby leaned
forward.  "Jed, some very rough things have happened to Marci in her
life.  Things she hasn't even been able to discuss with her sister.
She's done what she had to do to sun dye and she's come a long way.
I've thought for several months that you might be able to help her."

"She's discussed me with you?  What the hell did she say?"

"I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have let that slip out."  Abby flushed.  "I'm
not going to answer any more questions about my patient.  What else did
you come here to talk about?

Jed shifted in his chair, looking from the tasteful prints on the wall
to his hands and then toward the window.  Everywhere but at Abby's
face.  He could get up and leave on cue.  Or he could make a grab for
the brass ring.  "You're too perceptive."

"That's what they pay me for.  But this session is free of charge."

He forced a laugh.  It sounded strained and nervous.  "You mentioned
that everything that's said here is strictly confidential."

"So if I wanted to discuss something about myself and

I wanted to keep it quiet, it wouldn't go any further.  "

" That's right.  "

He almost cut and ran.  Then he figured he didn't have anything to
lose.  If he didn't want to, he never had to see Abby Franklin again.
"There's a reason why I might be putting Marissa in danger by taking
this assignment.  I mean, something in my background that might make me
a risky choice."

When Abby's expression remained neutral, he continued.  "Did Marissa
tell you I used to be hooked up with a super secret spy
organization?"

"Yes.  She didn't tell me the name," she added.

"She probably doesn't know I was asked to resign."  He heard his voice
turn gritty as he struggled to keep his face from betraying the depths
of his humiliation.  "That was rough on you," Abby murmured.  "Yeah,"
he whispered.

"So did you really come hereto tell me you're no good at your job?"

"I am good at it!"

"But you're the wrong man for the rescue mission?"

Abby persisted.

"I'm willing to give you my professional judgment."

"I found out seven years ago."  "Fgund out what?"

He clenched his hands on the arms of the chair so he wouldn't bolt from
the room: With his emotions under equally rigid restraint, he told Abby
Franklin the secret that had been eating him alive.

ROUOH HANDS shook Marissa' awake, and she couldn't hold back a startled
scream.

"Let's go," a gruff voice ordered in Spanish.

"Wh--what's going on?"  she answered in the same language.

"El .lefe has sent for you."

Marissa's heart began to pound.  With no warning, she was going to be
interrogated by the man whose office she'd been caught burglarizing.
Had he found the camera in the toilet tank?  Was that why he was
finally sending for her?  She ran anervous hand through her hair.
"Would you let me have a minute alone?"

He shrugged and stepped outside the door, giving her some privacy.

Quickly she used the toilet in the corner of the cell and washed her
hands and face, wondering how unkempt she looked after three days in a
cell.  She expected to be cot ted upstairs to the general's office, and
braced herself accordingly.  Her eyes widened as she was led outside to
a gray Chevy van parked by the delivery entrance.  Two guards hustled
her inside.  Yanking her foot to the right, they cuffed her ankle to a
ring that had been welded to the floor.  Hardly standard equipment from
Chevrolet.  "You said El lefe" -"/Silencio!"

She pressed her lips together as the man slid onto the bench seat
beside her.  He kept a machine gun cocked under his arm.  His companion
climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine.  After ten
minutes it was dear they were heading out of the city.  Going west,
according to a road sign.

Madson knew that Sanchez had a fiance in Colorado Province.  Calling it
a farm was an understatement, since it occupied more than twenty
thousand acres.  Despite the heat and humidity, she shivered.  In the
capital F,/Jefe was a powerful man but not entirely above the law.  At
his outlying estate he was the lord of the manor.  He could do anything
with her that he wanl~l, and no one would ever dig up the facts.

A cold sweat broke out on her skin.  Involuntarily, her foot jerked
against the cuff.

"Sit still," the man with the gun muttered.

She went rigid.

The scenery changed from overcrowded urban to jungle in almost the
blink of an eye.  However, she ~ from her extensive reading on Sanchez
and the local area that the two-lane road they took was one of the best
paved in San Marcos, undoubtedly for the general's benefit.  Marissa
had come this way a few days ago on the trip she'd told ed about--to
visit some newly discovered Mayan ruins being excavated by a team from
the University of New Mexico.

What would Jed do if he were in a spot like this, she wondered.
Somehow, on all the dangerous missions she'd undertaken for the State
Department, she'd never pictured herself getting captured.  Shot,
maybe; put out of her mi~e~ with one eiean bullet.  "But not abducted.
She shuddered, admitting for the first time that she should have known
better.

Every ten or fifteen miles the jungle gave way to a village of
thatch-roofed, bamboo huts strung out along the road.  More than once a
stray cow or goat wandered onto the pavement, and the driver honked
furiously.  Each time Marissa ~ as she en~ the guilty hope that the
speeding van might collide with one of the aniraais.  If the vehicle
was forced to stop, she might have a chance to

There were no such fortunate incidents with the live-stock.  But
Marissa's lucky break came about a mile and a half past one of the
villages when the van blew a tire.  Cursing, the driver had to wrestle
the vehicle to the far right side of the blacktop, since there was no
real shoulder.  When he opened the backdoor, he discovered there was no
jack.  He cursed again.

The two men--who turned out to be named Jose and Jorge--argued in rapid
Spanish, each accusing the other of being responsible for getting them
into this fix.  Jorge~ the one who'd sat with her in the back seat,
lost the shouting match and ended up trotting back to the village. Jose
climbed out and ambled into the shade of a kapok tree.  Nearby several
goats grazed.

It was only about eight in the morning, but the temperature in the
disabled van was already rising to steam-bath proportions.

"You're not going to leave me in here, are you?"  Marissa called
through the open window.

"He's got the key."  Jose pointed in the direction of his retreating
companion before pulling his cap over his face and settling down for a
nap.

Thank God they'd been too confident to search her, Marissa thought as
she slipped her hand into her pocket and extracted one of the items
she'd hidden--her spare manicure set.  And thank God she knew a lot
about the terrain, both from several previous jungle expeditions and
extensive reading.

Working quietly and stealthily, she began to probe at the lock on the
cuff that secured her ankle to the floor of the van.  Every so often
she glanced up at Jose.  He looked as if he were asleep.

Her hands were shaking so badly that it took several tries to open the
lock.  Finally it yielded.

Her breath slowed as she looked through the window of the van.  Was
this whole thing a setup?  An excuse to shoot the prisoner attempting
to escape?

She didn't know.  BUt she'd made her decision.  Considering what could
he waiting for her at Sanchez's es-hate, she had to t~ to get away
while the getting was good.

After one last furtive glance at the guard, she ducked low and slipped
out the open door.

The moment her feet hit the pavement she was crouching and running
toward the safety of the trees.

Chapter Three

Marissa muffled her sob of relief as she reached the concealing foliage
on the other side of the road.  Quickly she slipped farther into the
shadows.

She'd gotten free.  But that was only the first step.  Not a living
soul in this part of San Marcos was going to risk Sanchex's wrath by
helping her.  Her only hope was to reach the American archaeologists at
the Mayan ruins, explain what had happened and hope they had the
resources to get her out of the country.

That meant she'd have to get far enough away from the van to risk
crossing the road, then head north.  Going back seemed like a bad idea,
s'nice she might run into Jorge.  So she continued toward Sanchez's
estate and tried to shay more or less parallel to the blacktop.

However, she soon found it was impossible to travel in a straight line
without a machete to slash her way through the dense foliage.  In
addition, she had to move carefully, since she was trying hard not to
leave a Wail the guards could follow.

The jungle was alive with other dangers," too.  The archaeologists had
told her about killing a coral snake near the ruins.  Since there was
no antidote for their venom, a bite meant death within minutes.  All
she could do was

break a dead branch from a small tree to use as a defensive weapon.

Her clothing was soaked with perspiration, but she kept moving at a
steady pace, detouring around tarantula holes and the huge hill~ of the
leaf-cutter ants, who could make mincemeat of human flesh as easily as
they denuded trees.

When she judged she was half a mile from the van, she sprinted across
the road.  Then she headed north, using the position of the sun as a
guide.  Every time she heard a noise in the underbrush, she expected
Jorge or Jose to lunge from behind a palm tree.  But so far so good.

Marissa pushed herself as hard as she could through the bugs and heat
and plants that seemed to grab at her clothing as if they had an
agreement with the soldiers to slow her progress.  Eventually she had
to stop and rest.  Wishing that she had a hat and some insect
repellent, she reached out a hand to steady herself against a slender
tree trunk.

It was an unfortunate move.  The bark was covered with thorns.  She
yelped in pain, and high above her in the trees a colony of howler
monkeys react~l.  MOrtally offended by what they considered the
invasion of their territory, they began to protest loudly.  She might
as well 'have been standing next to an air raid siren.

She started off again at the fastest pace she could manage.  But she
was a whole lot less optimistic than she'd been a few minus ago.  She'd
been counting on her pursuers not knowing where to look for her.  The
monkeys had given them a road map.

JED T~mO TO RELAX in the airline seat.  At least he was flying to San
Marcos first class this time, so there was enough room to stretch his
legs.

Of course, there would he plenty of space to stretch out if he and
Marissa came home in wooden boxes.

He grimaced.  Abby Franklin could pay the funeral expenses, since she'd
listened to his story and then made him believe he'd he okay if he took
certain precautions.  He'd left her office feeling better about himself
than he had in years.  After a little reflection, he realized how good
she was at her job.  What she'd really done was the equivalent of
patching up a combat soldier and sending him back into battle.  But
he'd undersWod her motives.  She was convinced that he was the only
person with the right set of qualifications to extract Marissa from
Sanchez's clutches.

The flight attendant came by and asked him if he wanted a drink.  He
ordered a bourbon and water.  Maybe the liquor would help him
sleep--like the rest of the passengers on the red-eye flight to Santa
Isabella.  Most of them looked as if they were going to San Marcos to
visit relatives or relax in an unspoiled tropical paradise.  He was
flying into one of the trickiest assignments of his undercover
career.

And he might have to change the rules as he went along if things didn't
work out the way Marci's friends thought they would.

Marci.  Ever since he'd heard her sister use the nickname, he'd started
to think of her like that.  It was part of his changing image of her,
as if he were dealing with two different women.  Marissa was cold and
aloof, tough and sophisticated.  She'd taken plenty of undercover jobs,
and she knew the risks.

Marci was another matter entirely.  His face softened as he considered
her.  She was fragile and vulnerable, shy and a bit naive.  She
pretended she knew all the rules.  In fact, she'd conned Him pretty
well over the past few years, and he was a damn good judge of people.
But all along she'd been hiding behind Marissa's tough exterior, hoping
no one would notice her.

He pressed his knuckles against his teeth.  Now that Abby and Cassie
had given him the right clues, he couldn't understand why he hadn't
recognized the symptoms.  She was like him, hiding some shameful cret
she didn't want anyone to know.  Something so bad that it made her
reckless--even a little foolhardy--as if she didn't believe her life
was worth much.

Too bad for her Abby had slipped and revealed more than she should.  Or
had she?  His eyes narrowed as he went back over the scene in the
psychologist's office, examining the nuances.  Abby had' told him she
thought he'd be good for Marci.  Had that been a calculaled maneuver?
Part of her plan to get him on her side?

He sighed.  Whatever it was, it had worked.  It had even starting him
wondering if he and Marci could help each other, since neither of them
felt there was much to lose.

Of course, Marci was one thing.  Marissa was quite another.  Getting
close to her could be a disaster.  He'd always-known that Marissa
Devereaux and Jed Prentiss would be an explosive combination.  Either
it would he damn good or they'd end up tearing each other apart.

Still, he felt a sense of tingling anticipation that made it difficult
to sit still in the airplane seat.  One of the reasons he was going
back to San Marcos was to find out once and for all what would happen
if he let her know he was attracted to her.  This time Madssa wasn't
going to be able to duck away from him or give him that cold look he
now realized was a protective mechanism.  Not if she was going to
follow the script that the Light Street group had written for her.  No,
if she wanted to save her hide she was going to have to work with
him--up close and very personal.

MA~SSA KEPT PUTF~O one foot in front of the other even though she'd
long since reached the point of haustion.  " Yet she knew she had to
put as much distance as she could between herself and the spot where
she'd stirred up the howler monkeys.

So far Sanchez's goons hadn't shown.  But she wasn't go' rag to breathe
easy until she reached the relative safety of the archaeological dig.

She hoped she could get there before nightfall.  The jungle during the
day was dangerous enough.  When the sun went down, it would he
pitch-dark and twice as perilous.  She'd have to find a tree she could
climb and wait for morning before she could risk moving around again.
And that wouldn't save her from poisonous tree frogs or snakes.  Or the
predators that would smell her fear or hear her shivering.  Aside from
the dangers, when the temperature dropped, her perspiration-soaked
clothing was going to feel like a cold compress.

But that was hours away.  Her immediate problems were heat and thirst.
She'd had nothing to drink but a few gulps of water in her cell that
morning.  And even with the high humidity, she was getting dehydrated
from the jungle heat.

She hadn't crossed many streams, and she knew they would be a risky
proposition out here, where she could pick up some nasty parasite while
slaking her thirst.  But there were hollow vines that were full of
water.  When she found one, she slashed it off with her penknife and
gratefully tipped the cup end to her lips.

She'd taken several swallows when the sound of a branch snapping behind
her made her whole body' go' rigid.  Dropping the vine, she made a dash
for a nearby thicket.  But she didn't get more than a few feet before a
muscular arm hooked itself around her neck.

Before her scream had died away she felt the point' of a machete
pressed against the small of her back.

"Be still, and you won't get hurt," a harsh voice she didn't recognize
instructed in Spanish.  She'd been caught, but not by Jorge or Jose.

He was in back of her, so she couldn't see his face or gauge his
resolve.  As she breathed in the acrid scent of his sweat, she
struggled to keep a lid on her fear.  It helped a little to remind
herself of her martial arts training.  He wouldn't be expecting any
fancy maneuvers on her part.

And the first thing to do was make him think she was completely at his
mercy.  "What are you going to do to me?"  she croaked.

Instead of answering, he called out loudly, "I've found the woman
they're looking for."

Moments later he was joined by a friend dressed in the faded cotton
trousers and shirts that San Marcos's peasants wore.  He, too, was
carrying a machete.

"I'm nothing to you.  Please, let me go," she begged.

The one who held her began to march her toward the road.

"I just want to get back--home."  The last part came out as a choked
cry.

"The soldiers want you," he said, as if that settled the matter.
"Vdmonos."  ~

"I'll pay you," she tried in desperation.

"We don't want your money," the second one answered.  "They will be
angry with the village if I don't bring you in.  They might burn us out
or kill our animals."

She understood then that there was no use pleading with these men or
trying to bribe them.  If they didn't obey the wishes of the soldiers,~
they would be inviting the wrath of El Jefe.

Her captors gave her no opportunity for escape.

In minutes they emerged from the shade of the jungle onto the hot
surface of the road.  The van from which she'd escaped was parked a
hundred yards or so farther on, and she saw immediately that the
soldiers had repaired the flat tire.  Jose and Jorge were lounging
against the vehicle, one on either side.  It did nothing to lift her
spirits to find out she'd been dogging through rough terrain half the
morning, and they'd been riding along in comfort.

When the villagers delivered her up to Jorge, he gave her a look that
was equal parts relief and anger.

"Puta, " he growled, his hands balled into fists.  "What the hell do
you think you're doing causing so much trouble?  You're going to be
sorry."

She braced herself for a blow, but none came.  Maybe he didn't want to
have to explain how the prisoner had gotten injured.  Pivoting away, he
honked the horn several times in rapid succession.

When he turned back to her, his ang~ was under better control.
Methodically he began to search her, his hands lingering on her body in
a way that made her want to throw up.  When he found her knife and the
other tools, he gave her a thunderous look.

She raised her chin.  "You wouldn't be stupid enough to tell him your
prisoner got away, would you?"

"why not?"  The question was from Jose who had come around the van to
stand behind her.

"Because.  he won't be angry only at me.  He's going to wonder why you
were careless enough to let a woman in a leg iron slip out of your
hands."

The two men exchanged a quick, whispered conversation.  At least
Marissa had the satisfaction of knowing she'd rattled them badly.  And
maybe her ploy would keep them from talking about the morning's
misadventure.

/Jorge cuffed her wrists behind her back before he shoved her into the
van.  The vehicle lurched away in a cloud of exhaust that enveloped the
villagers who were standing several yards away watching the
spectacle.

As JED pressed his foot down on the old Land Rover's accelerator he was
thinking about the two best features of the road to El Jefe's fiance
There were no potholes, And there weren't any cops on motorcycles who
were going to stop him for speeding.  Which was a damn good thing,
because he was driving as if the devil was in pursuit.

He slowed marginally as he approached a village, alert for cows with a
death wish.  But at this time of day they were all lazing in the shade
while the egrets picked the bugs from their hides.

As soon as he'd cleared the populated area, ~Jed accelerated again.
He'd shown up' at Sanchez's offices in Santa Isabella that morning
pretending that he wanted to get together with his old buddy, since
they hadn't connected at the party the other night.  He'd been told
that the general was at his country estate.

Determining the whereabouts of the female prisoner being held
incommunicado had been a little trickier.  But he'd been lucky enough
to nm into one of the men he'd trained six years ago.  The fellow had
made lieutenant, and he attributed much of his military success to
Jed's guidan~ce.

As they talked about old times and present duties, Jed asked if the
general was loading them up with special assignments.  He found out
that two guards had taken a good-looking blond woman out to the
hacienda the previous morning.

With his heart pounding, he'd gotten out of the conversation as quickly
as possible.  Five minutes later he had hit the road to Sanchez's
estate, trying like hell not to think about what he might find.  But he
couldn't stop some pretty vivid pictures from jumping into his mind.
He'd once walked into a session when El Jefe had been demonstrating
interrogation techniques on prisoners captured from the revolutionary
army.

As he sped west the sky turned to navy blue, and the wind began to
blow.  A tropical storm was rolling in.  He hoped it held off until
after he arrived at the fin ca or the driving rain might slow him to a
crawl.

Two miles from the main gate he was stopped at a checkpoint.  Again he
was damn lucky.  It still wasn't raining, and another of his old
comrades was on duty.  He was passed through on the assumption that
Sanchez knew about the visit.  He hoped he didn't get the guard in too
much trouble.

If things were the same as they'd be ell six years ago, an electrified
fence and another guard station were ahead.  Jed's hands tightened on
the wheel.  Even if they were best buddies, it was doubtful that the
sentry up ahead would allow him to pass without authorization from El
]efe.

But what if the general was 'interrogating his prisoner?  If he was
busy with Marissa, he'd probably left strict orders not to be disturbed
because he wouldn't want to break the rhythm of the session.

A sick feeling rose in ed's throat.  Too bad this Land Rover wasn't
armor plated so he could steam roll the guardhouse and hope that
Sanchez would come out to investigate the disturbance.

As it turned out, the sentry's attention wasn't focused on the road but
on the nearby field that El ~efe used for disciplinary action.  The ~
at the edge of the parade ground bent and swayed.  The wind tore at the
shirts and trousers of soldiers in the field marching in formation as
if preparing for a formal drill.  ~. Not likely in a gale condition.
No, this was no practice session.  He recognized the configuration.  It
was a firing squad.

His blood turned to ice when he spotted the prisoner being marched to a
stake facing the troops.  It was Mar Chapter Four

Jed gunned the engine of the Land Rover and barreled through the
checkpoint.  The wooden arm on the barrier snapped like a fence rail in
a hurricane.  Behind him he heard the sentry bellowing in surprise,
then anger.  "/Basra!  Or I'll shoot."

Jed didn't stop.  Half expecting a volley of machine gun bullets to
plow into the vehicle, he kept his foot pressed on the gas.  A few
seconds later he decided the guard was no fool.  E/Jefe himself was in
an open ear on the field.  Any shots would endanger the general's
life.

However, Jed was taking no chances.  As quickly as he could, he put the
troops between himself and the sentry.  When the vehicle zoomed onto
the grass, their precise formation dissolved into disarray.  Some men
stopped in their tracks, a few kept marching.  Most brohe into a run as
if they'd been scattered by the rising wind.  It would have been
comical if Jed had been watching it on a movie screen.  But this wasn't
make-beiievc.  It was Marissa's life.

The only soldiers who weren't aware of the disturbance were the ones
escorting her toward the wooden stake about fifty yards away.  Marissa
walked between the uniformed men with her head held high and the breeze
blowing the hair back from her face.  She made it look as if she was
the one in charge, not they.  What was it costing her to march to her
death with such composure?

As he watched, he felt a hard knot of anxiety inside his chest burst
into sharp pieces, sending pain stabbing through his lungs.  Lord, what
if he'd been a few minutes later?

Behind him he could hear Sanche~ snapping out angry orders.  Then a
troop of running feet hammered toward the Land Rover.  Jed didn't wait
for the squad to reach him.  Screeching to a stop, he jumped out of the
vehicle.  Marissa wasn't out of danger yet.  Neither was he.  But he
proceeded with what he hoped looked like unswerving confidence.

"Change of plans" he barked in Spanish.

At the sound of his voice, the men holding Marissa dropped her arms and
whirled.

She was thrown off balance.  Swaying in the gale, she turned on shaky
legs and stared around uncomprehendingly as if she'd suddenly awakened
from a hight mare and wasn't sure she was really conscious or where she
was o

He saw her eyes snap into focus and zero in on him.  He wasn't
surprised as they widened the way they always did when the two of them
first met.  Yet this time he knew there was more behind the look than
usual.  He saw panic, relief and disbelief all warring with each
other.

"Jed?"  His name was a mere wisp of sound on her trembling lips.

"Come to get you out of this mess, honey bee."  He was surprised to be
straggling with the rough quality of his own voice.  Momentarily, he
was as shaken as she.

Tottering on shaky legs, she took a step toward him.  At the s,4me time
she made a tiny, muted sound that was half sob, half exclamation.

Chaos swirled around the two of them.  But it seemed to fade into the
background.  Marissa was the sole focus

of his attention.  And she was looking at him with the same
intensity.

Closing the distance between them in a few sure strides, he caught her
in his embrace and held her tightly, achingly aware of how small and
fragile she felt.  Like a fluttering bird he'd freed from a trap.

She slumped against him.  He wasn't sure when she took hold of his
shoulders, but he felt her fingers digging into his flesh so hard that
he knew he would see the marks when he got undressed that night.  Then
her whole body began to tremble.  He bent his head and spoke low and
urgently in her ear, glad that the wind gave them a measure of privacy.
"It's all right.  I'm here.  I'm not going to let anything happen to
you," he told her, him hands stroking through her hair and up the icy
flesh of her arms as he tried to warm her with his touch, tried to
project a sense of absolute confidence that he wished he could feel.
He'd pictured a dozen harrowing scenarios.  But not this, "I've got a
way to protect you, honey."

His name sighed out of her once more, drawing his attention to her
mouth.  It looked so soft, so vulnerable, so exposed that he had to
kiss her.  Seeing his intent, she stiffened and made a startled.
exclamation.  Afraid she was going to push him away, he tried to hold
on to her with his gaze.  This was the moment of greatest danger, the
moment she could give away the whole shooting match.

"Marci, no."

She stared up into his eyes, hers so large and questioning that he
could have gotten lost in their blue depths.  Perhaps he was as dazed
as she, because something strange happened.  He knew where he was--on
the parade ground, surrounded by uniformed soldiers.  But the men and
their surroundings had faded into the background so that he was
conscious only of Mar eL He sought something vital from her as his lips
moved against her.  At the same time be felt his own vulnerability rise
to the surface as if he were the one in need of aid and comfort.

In that instant everything changed.  The stiffness left her spine, and
she went soft and pliant in his arms.  In reaction, his emotions
changed from protective to hungry.  He drank in her sweetness even as
she swayed against him, clinging to him like a lost kitten trying to
grasp something solid.  But he was as lost as she.

Later he realized that it all must have happened in mere seconds.  On
the field it felt as if they had stepped out of time into a private
space of their own.  As they clung together, nothing existed for him
besides Marissa and the contact of his mouth against hers.  His body
against hers.  The urgent movement of her hands up and down his back.

Her lips opened under his, and he took advantage of the surrender.  He
tasted passion, heard alow murmur in her throat that made the blood in
his veins run hot.

Then in the space of a heartbeat he sensed her change, as he felt her
remember who she was and who he was and that there was a
reason--whatever it was--that she had never allowed him this close
before.

He longed to bring her back to him.  Longed to use every lover's trick
he'd ever learned to recapture her heady response, but he realized with
a start that they weren't alone and that a harsh voice had intruded
into their reality.

The voice rose above the wind.  "Arrest this man."

Jed's attention snapped instantly back to the here and now.  Marissa
went taut in his arms.

Soldiers with guns moved into position around them, cutting off any
avenue of escape.  But the, ed had never thought this rescue was going
to be easy.  Ignoring the

troops, he turned and focused on the man who had given the order.

Miguel Sanchez had the grace to look astonished.  "Jed?"

"Si, mi amigo."

Some of the squad had recognized him, and he heard his name whispered
in the circle of startled faces as he shifted Marissa to his side.

"What is the meaning of this?"  El Jefe demanded.  "What are you doing
here interfering in my private busi " I apologize for arriving
unannounced.  But I can't allow you to execute an innocent woman.
Particularly when she's my fiancde.  "

"Your what?"  Sanchez bellowed, any pretense of calm vanishing.

Marissa's reaction was no less violent.  Her body jerked in ~led's
arms.  Raising her head, she searched his face, her eyes wide and
startled.  And so tantilizingly beautiful that he was almost undone.
But he managed to re~ ember why he was here and why it was so
important~ to hang on to his

"My fiancee.  The woman I'm going to marry."  He repeated the words
very slowly and very evenly, and not only for Sanchez's benefit.
Marissa needed time to take in the information.

"That's impossible.  She's a spy!"  the general growled.  "She escaped
into the jungle, and my men had to recapture her."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Do you know who sent her?"

"Nobody sent her.  There's obviously been some kind of mistake," ~led
counlm~!  He'd been acting on pure instinct when he'd driven headlong
in front of the troops.  Now he looked at the stake that had been
waiting for Marissa and was unable to keep from shuddering.  "This is
no place for a ci 'vdized discussion.  Why don't we go back to the
hacienda and talk about it before we all get drenched."

Sanchez nodded--a single, curt movement of his head--and began striding
toward his jeep.  ~led started to lead Marissa to the Laud Rover, but
the general's voice stopped him.  "No."  El Jefe spoke over the wind,
his voice raised so the assembled troops could hear.  "I insist you
ride with me, amigo.  One of my men will bring your vehicle and put it
in the garage."

Jed didn't bother to argue.  His life and Marissa's depended on their
getting a chance to gommunicate.  But defying Sanchez at this moment
was an even surer ticket to destruction.

Marissa still looked dazed as he helped her into the jeep's back seat.
At first she nestled against him like an injured animal.  But he felt
her coming back to life as El ~efe barked orders to the squad.  He
sensed her struggling to pull herself together, but there was only so
much he could do to help without giving away the story line to their
attentive audience.  When the jeep lurched forward she sat up
straighter and squirmed in the seat, trying to put some distance
between them.  Jed suspected that his -leg pressed to hers was making
it difficult for her to think.  But he held her firmly, aware that
Sanchez kept shifting his gaze from the road to glance with interest in
the rearview mirror at the engaged couple in the back seat.

"I was worried about you, honey," Jed murmured, keeping Marissa close
to him and stroking his lips against her temple.

The caress made her shiver, and he wondered if the' melting moment in
his arms had been a figment of his imagination.  No, for a few
incredible seconds she'd kissed him like a lover.  But he could put
that down to disorientation--and a spontaneous reaction to the man
who'd snatched her from the jaws of death.

He ached to find out if her surge of emotions had come from more than
fear and gratitude.  But that discovery would have to wait for another
time and place.  "I hope you're feeling more like yourself," he
murmured, knowing the statement was only partly true.  Lord, what he
wouldn't give for a few hours with the woman who had come alive in his
arms.

She swallowed.  "Yes."

"Good girl."  He patted her knee, anticipating her response to the
intimate gesture.  She jumped, and he knew he had gotten her full
attention.  As much for Miguel's benefit as hers, he began to speak in
a half amused, half Worried voice.  "So I leave you alone for a couple
of hours and you get yourself in a real mess again.  Cassie and Abby
and Sabrina and everybody else are going to be worried sick when they
hear about this.  Or may he we shouldn't even tell them."

Her head whipped toward him.  "How do you know?"

His hand tightened on hers, and he clamped down on her sentence her ore
she could give anything away.  "How did I know you were here, honey
bee?  A combination of detective work and luck."  He raised his voice
and addressed Sanchez.  "You weren't really going to shoot my lady
love, were you, you old devil?"

"I was still weighing the pros and cons,"

"Oh, yeah?"

"There was always the chance that a last-minute reprieve might loosen
her tongue."

Marissa made a strangled sound.

They were approaching the stretch of jungle that separated the hacienda
from the military complex.  Miguel turned onto a hard-packed dirt road
that wound past banana trees, tall ferns and countless jungle plants
led couldn't name.  They were all swaying wildly, raining leaves down
on the jeep.  And the sky was black as midnight.  Jed expected the rain
to begin pelting them any second.

When Sanchez leaned forward and picked up a portable phone, Jed pressed
his fingers tightly over Marissa's.

She looked at him and nodded.  And he knew she was functioning on a
higher level.  She understood that while the other man's attention was
focused on giving orders for their reception, they had partial privacy.
Still, Jed took the precaution of keeping his tone light and garrulous.
 "Don't let him fool you into thinking he's harmless."

She glanced toward the front seat.  "I won't."

In the dim light he turned her face toward him.  "Did he hurt you?"  he
whispered.

"Not physically."

He let out the breath he'd been holding.  "You were in the prison
complex in Santa Isahella?"

"Yes.  In solitary confinement.  I didn't see a living soul until two
men brought me here yesterday."

Jed glanced up to see that Miguel was staring at them intently in the
mirror again.  Probably he'd only used the phone call to see what they
would do when they thought his attention was elsewhere.

Just then they emerged from the forest.  The wind suddenly died and the
sun came out again.  A good omen, Jed told himself, wishing he believed
in omens.

They headed for a high ado he wall softened with festoons of blooming
purple and orange bougainvillea.  But the metal gate was all business.
Jed watched as Sanchez pressed a remote control that slid the barrier
open, interested to find that security had become more automated since
his time.  The modernization could he helpful if they had to make an
unexpected getaway.  Electronic devices could be disabled.

However, when they passed the dog kennel, his hopeful thoughts turned
gloomy.  Electronics were one thing.

The pack of Dobermaus that patrolled the grounds at night was another
thing altogether.

The barking of the Dobermans stabbed through the last of the fog
shrouding Marissa's brain.  She gave Jed a quick sideways glance,
marveling that he could appear so calm.  Trying to follow his example,
she sat up straighter and looked around, aware of her surroundings with
a sudden aching clarity.  The sun had come out from behind the clouds,
and the whitewashed walls of the hacienda were bathed in the warm
afternoon light.  The wind had died to a gentle whisper.  And she
wasn't dead.

When she shuddered, Jed's arm tightened around her, and she had the
uncanny sensation that he understood what she was feeling.

She looked down, hoping he wasn't reading everything in her mind.  For
her own equanimity she struggled to rationalize what had happened
between them out there on the field--or more specifically what had
happened to her.  His part was easy enough to grasp.  He was a normal
man.  She'd tumbled into his embrace, and he'd taken advantage of the
situation.

But she'd behaved in a manner that was so totally alien that she could
only explain it one way: she'd been living in a nightmare that would
end with her own death, and just when she'd lost all hope, Jed had come
charging to her rescue.  She'd been so off balance that she'd let
herself feel things she'd been afraid of for years.  Particularly with
him.  Convulsively, she knit her hands together.  Perhaps holding tight
to her own-flesh could bring back the perfect control she'd relied on
for so long.

"It's okay," he whispered, and she wondered if he was still following
her thoughts.

"Umm."  With Jed's thigh pressed against hers and his grip firmly on
her shoulder, it was impossible to think clearly, but she clamped down
hard on her instinctive urge to pull away.  She knew Sanchez was
watching, and they had to keep playing by the script Jed had tossed
her.

He'd told the general that they were engaged!  How were they ever going
to pull it off?  How could they possibly act as if they were madly in
love?  As if they were lovers?  Contemplating that led to memories of
his kiss, which made her heart lurch inside her chest.  Perhaps the
most disturbing thing of all was that she still felt a tingle of
awareness between them like a humming electric current.  It had started
when he'd kissed her, and she wanted to pretend it wasn't there.  But
she was coming to realize she couldn't wish it away.

Jed's arm was around her shoulder, but he was leaning forward
responding to a question from the general.  As she switched her focus
to the conversation flowing so easily in Spanish, she realized for the
first time how close the two men must have been.

"So why didn't you come to me when Mariaaa was first apprehended?"
Sanchez asked.

"I tried.  ASk that undercover man who took her into custody on the
patio.  He wasn't letting anyone through to you."

"He had his orders.  But you should have let me know she was your
woman."  .

Jed laughed.  "I remember how you close ranks when you think you've
been crossed.  For all I know, you were going to assume I was part of a
plot against you.  Then you would have arrested me as well as her.  And
we'd both.  be up the creek without a paddle."

"You've got a point," El Sere conceded.

The give-and-take between the men continued.  Mar-issa missed a number
of allusions that' must have referred to events they both re-memhered
well.  She didn't much like being excluded, but she had enough sense to
keep her mouth shut and let Jed remind the general of their old bond.
She'd rather have the State Depadment

on the job.  But director Kirkland wasn't the one who had shown up to
win her freedom.  It seemed that Victor had tossed her to the wolves,
and Jed had stepped in.  Perhaps his friendship with the general might
he the only thing that would get her out of here.

Or was that what was really going on, she wondered' with a sudden
little jolt.  led had appeared out of nowhere like a knight in shining
armor.  But ~ rescue could have been staged, too.  And he could be
comiting heavily on her vulnerability.

She swallowed painfully.  Were led and Sanchez putting on a performance
for her?  Was this all part of some diabolical plan to get her to talk
about what she'd found in the general's office?  Did they think that if
she wouldn't tell Sanchez anything, she'd spill the beans to led?

But if he was here to trick her, what about the familiar way he'd
mentioned Cassie and Abby and-Sabrina?  He'd met her sister when they'd
all been on an assignment together in Colombia.  But he'd never met any
of the other women from 43 Light Street.  He'd made it sound as if they
were all working together to get her out of here.  Yet that could he
faked, as well--when there was no way to get in touch with anyone whose
name he'd mentioned so casually.

She had sense enough to know she was too off ha lance to make any
coherent judgments.  Her head swam with plots and counterplots as the
jeep pulled up in front of the hacienda, where two guards in dress
uniforms snapped to attention.  She saw the curtains move at one of the
windows and wondered who was watching.  led helped her out of the jeep
and kept his arm around her, guiding her toward the house.

Before they reached the front door, it opened.  A teenage girl with
long dark hair and liquid brown eyes came hurrying out.  She had
Mignel's features, and Marissa remembered that his dossier had
mentioned a daughter and a long-dead wife.  But there had been hardly
any information about either one.

The girl stopped a few feet from the group.

"Clatita, you're not supposed to be out here," Sanchez said.  in a
voice that raised the ha/rs on the back of Marissa's neck.  If he could
speak that way to his daughter, what might he do to a female
prisoner?

The girl merely shrugged, clearly accustomed to his intimidating
manner.  "I'm not one of your soldiers.  I don't have to follow
orders."

"Everyone in this house follows my orders."

"Yes.  And unfortunately everyone in San Marcos, too."

It was a dangerous response, Marissa thought as she waited to see what
El Jefe would do.  She couldn't imagine he was enjoying this little
scene.  His face contorted.  "We'll discuss it later."

The girl looked as if she were about to say something more.  At the
last moment she turned toward led, her expression softening.  "You Oune
back to us.  I knew you would after I saw you the other night."

"I have basi ness with your father."

As the girl's gaze swung from led to Marissa and back again, she went
through another rapid change of mood.  This time her eyes held a
mixture of bewilderment and hurt.  "I'm sorry Imn away from you on the
patio.  I thought you came to see me, and we'd have fun together again.
Like in the old days."

led seemed perplexed, no more equipped for this scene than Sanchez.  "I
do want to see you."

"Then why do you have your arm around the woman prisoner?  Why are you
protecting her from my father?"

"Marissa is my fiancee."

The girl's expression went from questioning to fury in the space of a
heartbeat.  "She can't he."

"I fell in love with her.  And I came hem to bring her home."  '

"Oh."  Several seconds of silence ticked by before Clarita tipped her
head toward Marissa.  "Are you good in bed?  Is that what he likes
about you?"

"That's enough," Sanchez roared.  "C-o to your room this instant before
you embarrass yourself further."

MarEssa stood with her cheeks burning while the girl turned.  and
flounced away.  Before she reached the house she pulled a hibiscus
blossom off a nearby bush, crushed it in her hand and tossed it onto
the pavement.

"I'm sorry," the general muttered as he watched his daughter disappear.
"I'm having some trouble with her.  But you can be sure she will be
punished for that out' burst."

Despite her own embarrassment, Marissa murmured, "I think she needs
your love, not your anger."

"What do you know about it?"  Sanchez snapped.

"I know what it's like to be raised by an army officer who doesn't have
much time for his family."

"Well, you know nothing about this family, serorita!"

Marissa was instantly sorry she hadn't thought before she'd spoken.

"Come inside," F,/;[efe cOmmanded.  "We have more important business to
discuss than my daughter."

When the general turned his back, Jed gave Marissa a warning look.  She
nodded tightly, acknowledging her mistake.  But despite Clarita's angry
words, Marissa's heart had gone out to her.  She knew what it was like
to feel trapped in a home where love was the last cousideration. Bowing
her head, she climbed the stairs.  Inside, the wide front hall of the
hacienda was cool and spacious and furnished like the grand entrance to
a museum of colonial art.

The general was limping slightly as he escorted his visitors to the
back of the house.

Marissa wondered what was wrong with his foot.  He was obviously making
an effort not to let his pain slow him down as he escorted them into an
office.  Glancing around her, she noticed the effort made to blend
splendor and practicality.  The desk and cabinets looked like valuable
antiques, the chairs and sofas were Of soft leather.  French doors led
to a large courtyard, alive with flowering plants.

El Jefe sighed as he took a seat behind a wide desk under the window.
The desk rested on a slightly raised phfform, giving the effect of a
judge's bench towering over a courtroom.

With the option of putting some blessed space between herself and the
general, Marissa remained standingnear the door.  Jed sprawled on one
of the sofas as if he'd spent many relaxed evenings in' the room. "Your
gout acting up?"  he asked.  ~ Sanchez nodded tightly. "Sorry."

"You're one of the few people who knows about it.  If the press got
hold of the story, they'd say it came from rich food and decadent
living,"

"Well, I know it's inherited from your grandfather.  The secret's safe
with me."

Marissa expected Sanchez to look relieved.  InsUred, E/ Jefe's eyes
narrowed dangerously as he studied ed.  "Is it?  I trusted you once.
But this business with the woman has given me some strong doubts.  You
claim she's your fiance.  But I've had news of you from time to time,
and this is the first I've heard you were engaged.  So what are you up
to?  Is this all some trick to get me to let her go?  Or should I have
you both arrested and thrown into the cells downstairs while I find out
what's really going on?"

Chapter Five

Marissa's knees buckled.  Before she toppled over, she clamped a
steadying hand against the back of a chair.

Jed didn't move except to look directly at Sanchez.  For an endless
moment there was only silence in the room.  Then Jed laughed deep in
his throat.  "You know better than to try shock tactics on me."

"Do I?  Well, how about this scenario?  What if you're both
spies--hired by our esteemed president Palme~ to bring me down,"
Sanchez answered, his voice icy.

"Palmeriz!  He doesn't have the guts to go against the commander in
chief of the army.  You could flood the capital with your troops and
capture him before he gets out of the presidential palace."

Sanchez shrugged.  "Perhaps, but I have other enemies.  Men who would
love to benefit from the power I've worked hard to consolidate."

"And they all know I'm not loco enough to try and put something over on
you," 3ed answered.

"For enough money, you might take the gamble."

"Money's no good to me in the grave.  You know I never risk my hide
taking foolish chances."

Sanchez relaxed a degree.  "I also know you don't stay in one place for
long.  You expect me to believe you intend to settle down with Senorita
Devereaux?"

"Hardly."

The general raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Settling down wasn't what I had in mind," Jed continued easily.  "I'm
sure you've researched Marci's background.  She's a travel agent who
specializes in setting up trips to adventure locales.  She's a very
exciting woman."  He chuckled.  "In fact, she's very talented in a
variety of delightful ways."

Marissa's hands tightened on the back of the chair.  She knew the
remark was intended to get the general's mind off spying and onto more
intimate aspects of her relationship with Jed.  Unable to meet E/Jefe's
speculative gaze, she turned toward her temporary fiancg, who was also
looking at her.  She felt her face grow hot and her pulse accelerate.

She couldn't penetrate Jed's deadpan expression.  But when he held out
his hand, she recognized her cue.  What's more, she'd just been given a
very pointed lesson that her life might depend on acting the part
Sanchez was expecting.  Crossing the rug, she curled herself onto the
sofa beside 3ed as if snuggling up to him was the most natural thing in
the world, as if it didn't make her heart beat so fast that she was in
danger.  of passing out.

She drew in a deep breath and plunged into her assigned part, mustering
what she hoped was an intimate look.  "I wish we had some time alone.
I'd like to tell you how glad I was to see you come driving up in that
Land Rover."  Her voice was pitched low, but not low enough for the
general to miss.

Jed reached up to stroke a wayward strand of her hair back into place.
"Honey bee,.  I was real glad I got there when I did."

The rough quality of his voice made the sentiment sound real.  So real
that she longed to drag him from the room and start asking questions.
Personal questions.

Then, over his shoulder, she saw Sanchez watching them, and it suddenly
came home to her how well matched the two men were.  Supe~icially they
weren't much alike.  The general had dark hair, dark eyes and a dark
complexion set off by a thin mustache.  Jed's hair was sun streaked,
his eyes green, his complexion golden from the sun.  Yet the two of
them had a lot in common.  They were both dangerous and ruthless and
accustomed to doing what needed to be done.  She had to hope that Jed'
played by civilized rules.  The general was different.  Here at his fin
ca he held absolute power.  And as Lord Acton had so aptly put it,
absolute power corrupts absolutely.

One of Jed's hands stroked her shoulder possessively, sending little
shivers along her nerve endings.  With the other he gestured toward
Sanchez.  "You haven't exactly been treating my fiancee like an honored
guest."

"Until a little while ago, I didn't know she belonged to you."

Marissa pressed her lips together to keep from snapping back a retort
that the concept of women as property had gone out with the Middle
Ages.  Except maybe in San Marcos.  Then Jed plucked a twig out of her
hair, and she was suddenly.  aware of how she must look.  She was still
wearing the rumpled Slacks and shirt from her jungle adventure.  And
she hadn't even washed or brushed her hair in days.  Automatically she
tried to move away from Jed.  He kept her firmly in his grasp, his hand
continuing to move over her shoulder.

When he forced her closer, she willed her body not to sl~fen in his
embrace.  She hoped she was making it seem natural as she closed her
eyes and leaned her head against his chest.  She hoped she looked ~ a
woman who was letting her man take charge.  So much of this charade
rested on his shoulders, and over the past few minutes it had begun to
sink in that he had put himself in a great deal of danger for her. 
"I'm sorry I got myself into this mess.  I'm sorry I got you into it,
dear heart."  She swallowed, wondering where the endearment had come
from. It had simply seemed like the right thing to say.

Jed gave her a crooked little smile, no doubt congratulating her on the
improvisation.  "I think it's going to work out."

When he grazed his thumb across her' palm she

He was instantly alert, turning her hand over.  They both stared down
at the raised red circle in the center.

"I don't like the looks of that.  What did you do?"  Jed demanded.

She flushed.  "Forgot the first rule of jungle survival.  Never sit on
anything, touch anything or lean on anything before you have a good
look at it.  I closed my hand around some thorns."

Jed lifted her palm, inspecting the welt and probing at it with his
thumbnail.  ~

Marissa struggled not to grimace again.  "I tried to get it out, but it
broke off."

"Well, I'm not going to take a chance on an infection, honey."  He
looked toward Sanchez.  "Let me have your first aid kit."

The general didn't move for several seconds.  Then, to Marissa's
surprise, he opened one of his lower desk drawers and pulled out a
small metal box.

Jed got up to retrieve it.  "Thanks."

The smell Of antiseptic filled Marissa's nostrils as he sterilized a
needle and then her palm before cradling her hand in his left one.  "It
may hurt."

' It's okay.  "

She clamped her teeth together, but as Jed began to probe, she drew in
several sharp breaths.

He raised the needle from her flesh.  "Sorry."

"It's the only way to get it out.  Just do it as fast as you can."  She
held on to thE edge of the sofa with her free hand, focusing on Jed as
she tried to shut out the pain.

"You're doing great," he murmured, working carefully.  But the thorn
was deep, and he couldn't get under it without stabbing into her.

She kept her eyes fixed on his.  face, watching the way his features
contorted in concentration--and concern.  "I don't like hurting you,"
he muttered.  "I know."

She breathed out a long sigh when he finally freed the thorn and
swabbed the wound with more antiseptic.  This time the liquid stung.

When it was all over, he stroked his hand across her damp forehead.
"Oood girl."

She nodded wordlessly.  She'd never imagined that Jed Prentiss could he
this caring, this gentle.  But then, a lot of things had changed in the
past few days.  And not just her perceptions of Jed.  Too much had
happened too quickly for her to ever be the same again.

For several heartbeats the room was completely silent.  Then Jed
cleared his throat, and she reminded herself that she was in no state
to be real ring any sweeping pronouncements.

He addressed himself to' Sanchez.  "Marci's already paid heavily for
her innocent mistake.  And I don't mean only this wound.  She's had
three days in one of your filthy cells.  Now I'd like to take her home
and do my damnedest to wipe this nightmare out of her head."  He
sounded sincere, but she'd better keep remembering that this was as
much a performance on her part as anything else.

The general's features tightened.  "If she made an innocent mistake,
why did she run away the first chance she got?"

"I was scared," Marissa replied instantly.  "I know prisoners brought
here have 'disappeared'--as they refer to it in Santa Isabella."

E/Jefe didn't deny the accusation.  "So you've researched me.  You're
quite thowugh for a travel agent."

"I always collect a great deal of information on a country before I
decide it's safe for American tourists."  Sanchez let the answer hang
in the air.

"Marci is a resourceful woman.  I wouldn't expect her.  to pass up a
chance to get herself out of a sticky situation.  She'd been held for
days, after all, and it looked like no one was doing anything. However,
I can see your point of view, too, Miguel.  I understand why you have
some doubts about her.  But I hope you'll make an exception in her
case.  Out of friendship for me."

"I have to consider San Marcos before myself."

"I know that.  So I've come prepared to offer you something in exchange
for Manfl.  Louis Rinaldo has told me how anxious the government is to
develop the copper mining potential in Juuipero Province.  I'm sure the
Olobal Bank will accept my recommendation of a six million dollar loan
for the project."

"Rinaldo wasn't supposed to talk about the copper deposits!"  the
general snapped.

"No?"  ed sounded genuinely puzzled~ "I thought your government was
looking for a way to beef up ports."

"We are.  But I prefer to keep reports on our natural resources
confidential until we're ready to go ahead with a project."

Marissa glanced from led to Sanchez.  The general'S objection didn't
make sense.  How could you get a loan if you weren't willing to let
your banker know how you planned to spend the money?

A buzzer sounded, and Marissa jumped.

Sanchez picked up the.  phone.  After lisi~ming for several seconds he
spoke in low, rapid Spanish into the mouthpiece.  Then, replacing the
receiver, he stood.  "You'll have to excuse me.  I'm needed
elsewhere."

Jed also rose, bringing Marissa with him, With his free hand casually
in his pocket, he stood facing the general.

"We'll talk about this later," Sanchez said, halfway out the door
before he had finished the sentence.

"Convenient," Jed muttered under his breath.

When two armed guards entered, she felt Jed's fingers close around her
hand.  Were they here to taim her back to the basement cells afler all?
And would Jed try to stop

The men walked toward Marissa, and she felt Jed's tension increase.  At
the last minute the one with a lien-tenant's insignia spoke to Jed.

"The general is having rooms prepared for you."  "Upstairs?"  Jed
demanded.

"S[..  But you're to wait here for a few minutes until the maids can
get things ready."

Marissa's relief was like a physical weight being lifted off her
shoulders.  Thank God she wasn't going back into the dark, dark
detention center.  For now, anyway.

The guards sl~pped back into the hall, and she heard them take up
positions on either side of the door.  For the first time since Jed had
appeared in the Land Rover, she was alone with him.

He started to cough, turning away and raising his hand to shield his
mouth.

"Are you all right?"  she asked.  :

He cleared his throat.  Ye aIt I swallowed wrong or something.  Guess .
I'm more nervous than I thought.  "

The coughing stopped in a few seconds, but Jed's face was flushed.  She
looked at him anxiously.  "You're Sure you're okay?"

He nodded.

She grasped his arm, aware that this might be their only chance to
exchange vital information.  When she started to ask what he had
planned, he shook his head quickly.  "Now that he's out of the room,
there'~probably a whole bunch of private commentS you want to make
about how Miguel's been treating you, but you can bet it will all be
recorded."

She drew in a shaky breath.  "I wasn't thinking."

"You've had a pretty rough time, honey bee."

The endearment and the gentleness of his voice almost undid her.  Her
lower lip quivered, and she was suddenly afraid that the tears she'd
been struggling to suppress were going to get the better of her,

Jed took her by the shoulders, folding her close.  She closed her eyes
and rested her head against his chest, struggling to get herself back
under control.  It wouldn't do either of them any good if she let
herself start weeping.

"Better?"  he finally asked.

"I--yes."

He pivoted them both so that his back was to the desk.  "Stay right
here with me."

At first she thought he was telling her not to go to pieces again.  He
squeezed her elbows, and she looked up.  His green eyes bored down into
hers as if he were trying to communicate some vital message.

"I'm with you," she tried, hoping the dialogue would lead to something
constructive.

He gave her an odd half smile, directing hex attention to his mouth.
Then his lips drew back slightly so that she could see his teeth.  She
blinked when she reali~xl he was holding something between them.  It
was flesh-colored plastic and looked like a large medicine capsule.
However, the contents did not appear to be cold medication.  Through
Oae translucent sides she could see tiny black printing.

After several seconds, during which he held her gaze, the capsule
disappeared back into his mouth.  "I've been wanting to give you a real
kiss," he said.

Her mouth went dry as she realized exactly what he had in mind.  A few
moments ago she'd been convinced that some basic part of her had
changed.  As ed's grip on her tighlened, old fears came zinging back to
her.  She was alone in this room with a man.  He was holding her much
too tightly.  He could do anything to her he wanted.  And she was
terrified.

Panicked, she looked toward the door, half wondering what the guards
would do if she came charging through.  At the same time her hands went
up to push against Jed's chest.  But she realized he'd been prepared
for her reaction.  He didn't give her a chance to get away.

"I've got to kiss you, honey.  Even if he's getting a kick out of
watching."

Her eyes locked with his.  He was telling her they were being
videotaped as well as recorded.  Maybe the general had even arranged
this oppommity to see what they'd do the first chance they were
alone.

She felt blood roaring in her ears as 1ed's mouth slowly lowered to
hers.  He'll do it quickly.  He won't do anything threatening.

Even as her conscious mind supplied the reassurance, her body trembled
as his lips touched hers.  She'd been afraid to let her defenses down
with this man for a long, long time.  Afraid of intimacy.  But the fear
hadn't kept her from secretly dreaming about him.

Overwhelmed, she went very still in his arms.  Her only salvation was
to let herself imagine what it would be like if he really were her
fiance.  The fantasy was so compelling that she grasped it like a
lifeline.  Then she realized she'd made a mistake--that she'd opened
herself to the sensual feelings that had been buzzing between them the
whole time they'd been together.

led must' have sensed the change.  "Ah, Marci," he whispered, his mouth
brushing seductively back and forth against hers.

Her knees weakened, and her hands slid upward to clutch at the broad
shelf of his shoulders.  It was either hold on to him or topple over.

"That's right.  Open up for me, honey," he whispered, his voice
husky.

Every conditioned reflex urged her to wrench herself away.  Instead,
her lips parted.  Because she had no choice.  She had to go along with
his plan or risk the come-quences.

She waited tensely, expecting to feel him push the capsule into her
mouth.  Instead, his tongue boldly traced the edge of her teeth.

Her first reaction was rigid shock.  But he didn't allow her to escape
the erotic assault.  And ~ a coin ~pping in a game of chance, shock
turned to pleasure.

When she sighed involuntarily, he gathered her more firmly in his arms.
His tongue breached the barrier of her teeth and began to explore the
softness beyond with little teasing strokes.  A woman with more
experience might have reacted less explosively.  But after the strain
of staying in control of so many emotions, she was suddenly helpless to
repress her response.  The gliding of his tongue against her sensitive
flesh brought a wave of heat crashing through her body like a tidal
wave.

The sensations pooled somewhere in her middle, and Marissa moaned deep
in her throat.  When she swayed against Jed,-he growled something low
and unintelligible and cupped.  her bottom, lifting her on her toes so
that her body was more perfectly aligned with his.

The pressure of his erection should have been a threat.  Instead, she
swayed against him.  Even the stubble of his

beard rasping against her cheek added to the feeling of intimacy-- of
need.

She hadn't known it would be like this.  So hot.  So overwhelming.  So
empowering.  Deep inside herself she sensed that he was as much her
captive as she was his.

Breathless, she forgot where they were and what was at stake.  The only
thing real was ed and the magic he was working on her senses.

Then she felt something pressing against her teeth.  It was too rigid
for his tongue.

Her eyes snapped open in confusion.  His burning gaze helped guide her
back to the known universe.

Events of the past few days flashed through her mind like scenes from a
spy movie.  The party.  The patio.  The firing squad.  Jed coming to
get her out of Sanchez's clutches.  ~led had important information for
her.  It was stuffed into a little carrying case he'd put in his mouth.
And he was ready to give it to her.

Marissa nodded fractionally, even as she felt his hands in her hair,
steadying her head.  When he pushed the capsule forward, she felt it
slide between her lips, vividly aware of the intimacy of transferring
something from his mouth to hers.

Afraid that.  she might Swallow the container, she tucked it down
beside her' lower teeth, the way she'd concealed chewing gun in school
when she'd been a kid.

Still confused and shaken, she looked up into Jed's eyes.  She expected
to see triumph or perhaps even mockery at the way she'd come undone in
his arms.  She was surprised to encounter emotions that seemed to
mirror her own.  Or maybe she was only kidding her seN

She wasn't sure how long they stood that way, as if they were caught in
a stop-motion picture on a TV monitor.  The spell was broken when the
door opened.

"We're to take you upstairs now," the lieutenant said.

It was a relief W break away from ed, from the intensity of what had
transpired between them.

When she saw the guard staring at her flushed cheeks, they grew even
hotter.  Mercifully, he didn't prolong her embarrassment.

Her legs felt as if they wouldn't hold her up, but somehow she followed
the man into the hall.  Aware of Jed right behind her, she focused on
her feet as she c~limbed the stairs.  The little plastic container in
her mouth felt as if it had ballooned.  to the size of a grapefruit. It
was all she could do to keep from probing it with her tongue the way
she might worry a broken tooth.

The guard halted before a closed door.  She was paying so little
attention to her surroundings that she Stopped mere inches before
crashing into him.

"El.lefe will see you at dinner."

Her questioning gaze shot to ~Jed.  "It's okay," he said.  Mafissa
couldn't manage more than a nod before she stepped into the room.  The
door was shut and then locked' behind her.  Eyes closed, she leaned
against the thick wood, half fearful and half thankful that she was
alone at last.

Her body felt hot and achy in ways it never had before.  Her pulse was
still racing, her palms were wet.  Slowly she rubbed them on the s/des
of her slacks, barely noticing the pain where the thorn had been.

But she was all too aware of the other unwanted physical sensations.
What was she going to do?  When she anded had been with Sanchez, she'd
been playing a part thrust upon her.  To save her life.  Anded's.  But
then the general had left, anded had kissed her, and everything had
rocketed out of control.

Weak and shaking, she squeezed her eyes closed even tighter.  The
feelings that kiss had aroused were too threatening for her to
examine.

It was easier to focus on Jed's behavior.  He could have passed the
capsule to her and been done with it quickly.  Instead, he'd used the
opportunity to kiss her senseless.

Her hands clenched at her sides.  She was lucky she hadn't swallowed
the damn container.  What had been so important that he had to give it
to her right then?  Was he ~elling her the escape plan he'd worked out
in case E/.  lefe wouldn't release her?

Or were his motives what they seemed?  Her emotions did a flip flop
again as she scrambled to recall every ~rap of information she had on
Jed Prentiss.  A few years ago he'd been a crack agent for the
Peregrine Connection, that super secret organization nobody ~er talked
about. She knew he wasn't with them anymore, and from the little she'd
heard she gathered that the separation hadn't been exactly amicable. 
Had the breakup made him bit-~ tar?  Did he care whose money he took? 
A little while ago he'd been talking as if he were world rig for the
Global Bank.  But he could he getting double pay for all she

She sighed.  She was in one hell of a me~.  And she was way too
off-balance to decide whom she could trust.

But she.  did know one thing.  It was more important than ever to read
the message Jed had passed to her with such relish.  She raised her
hand to her lips and then thought better of it.  If there had been a
camera in the

Sanchez was still watching to see what she would do,

For the first time since he door had closed, Marissa took an interest
in her surroundings.  The furnishings were simple but comfortable, the
bed covered in a brightly colored spread that looked as if it had been
woven by village women.

Be~ide the bed was a box of tissues.  Faking a sneeze

Marissa crossed the room and reached for a tissue.  She brought it to
her mouth and sneezed the capsule inside.  At the same moment she heard
the door behind her open.  Did Sanchez have a zoom lens on his camera?
Had he seen what she'd done and come to collect the evidence?

Chapter Six

Marissa went very still.

"I'm here to help you, se~orita," a woman said in Spanish.

Help me escape?  Not likely.  Marissa thrust the tissue-wrapped capsule
into her pocket and turned.  The servant she confronted was a plump
young woman with the dark hair and large brown eyes of a San Marcos
native.  She was carrying an armload of clothing.

"My name is Anna.  I've brought some things for you to wear.  The best
we have in the village."  She laid her bundle on the bed and picked up
one of the dresses.  A simple design, it was made of delicately woven
local fabric set off by stunning embroidery of birds and flowers.

It was the kind of outfit that would draw envious comments at a
Washington garden party.  However, Marissa knew that wearing such a
dress would put her at a disadvantage with the general.  If she was
clothed like the local women--who had very little status compared to
the men--it would be easier to treat her as an inferior.  "Where are my
own things?"  she asked.

Anna returned to the hall and brought in the suitcase that had arrived
in the jarl cell days ago.  As Marissa poked through the mess inside,
her heart sank.  The contents looked as if they had been hastily
searched, and only some of the items had been put back.  In fact, most
of her to' tier articles and clothes were missing.  If she appeared at
dinner wearing any of this stuff, she'd look like a refugee fwm a
Florida hurricane.

"I'll put everything away while you're bathing and washing your hair,"
the woman said.

"Gratias."  Marissa gave her a friendly .  qraile, considering and then
discarding the idea of pumping her for information.  Probably she
didn't know much.  And she'd likely be questioned about their
conversation.  "Do I have time for a siesta?"

"Then why don't you turn down the covers when you f~mish?"

Marissa took a nightgown off the bed and stepped into the bathroom.
Unfortunately, she couldn't be sure she wasn't being observed even
here.  After a quick glance at the door, she left the tissue with the
capsule in her pocket and began to get undressed.

Taking a shower and washing her hair should have felt wonderful after
her ordeals in the detention cell and the jungle.  But.  the pleasure
was spoiled by her raw nerves.  She needed to know Jed's plans.  Or
what line of bull he was feeding-her.

JED TURNED HiS HEAD to stare at the wall to his right, wishing Mard was
on the other side and that he could punch his fist through the plaster
and make a hole big enough to pull her through.  He couldn't stop
picturing the dazed look on her face when their kiss had ended.  Lord,
what a sight.  Her lips red and glistening.  Her eyes bright.  Her
cheeks flushed.

Who would have thought Marissa Devereaux was capable of such passion?
But when he'd demanded a response, she'd come alive in his arms like a
woman suddenly let out into the sunshine after years of confine-merit
in a prison cell.

Of course, she had been in a cell.  Maybe she'd given up hope Of ever
getting out of here alive.  That could explain it.  She was grateful to
him for showing up in the nick of time, and she'd given him the down
payment on a suitable reward.

Except that it had seemed like more than that.  It had seemed as if
she'd been responding to him woman to man.  And he'd reacted with the
same intensity.

He touched his hand to his lips, thinking about the little capsule he'd
had so much fun transferring from his mouth to hers.  He could have
gotten the job done a lot more efficiently.  But all the cuddling
they'd been doing on Miguel's couch had turned him on.  And he hadn't
been able to resist the knowledge that Marci had to play along with him
or risk getting shot as a spy.  Then right in the middle of the kiss
he'd realized that he'd lost control of the situation and he'd better
call a halt before he forgot what he was doing and swallowed the damn
thing.

Striding to the bathroom, he turned on the cold water in the shower and
stepped inside.  He needed to stop thinking with his hormones.  The
needle spray cleared his head, and his mind switched gears as he began
to lather his chest.  He was in as much danger of getting shot for a
spy as Mard if Sanchez caught on to their charade.  What's more, he
couldn't blame the general for being cautious.  He did have enemies,
including the president of the country, who would like nothing better
than to strip him of his powered sighed.  He and Sanchez had met when
he'd been assigned by the Defense Department to help train the civil
guard on the weapons San Marcos had purchased from U. S. suppliers.
He'd known E/$efe was ruthless, but he'd followed orders and cozied up
to him.  Later he'd learned things about the man that had made his
blood run cold.

Miguel Sanchez could act like your best buddy one moment and turn into
your executioner the next.  Some-tines it was a result of his need to'
demonstrate his power.  Sometimes it was simply a political expedient.
But whatever was going on now, Sanchez hadn't jumped at the loan offer.
Was he having it checked out with Rinaldo before he agreed to anything?
Or was there something bigger at stake?  He needed to find out from
Marci whether she really had discovered anything incriminating in
Sanchez's office.  But first he had to figure out how to get her
alone.

As MA PaSSA stepped out of the shower, her gaze went to her slacks.
They were where she'd left them.  After pulling on the nightgown, she
casually pulled the tissue with the capsule from the pocket and
returned to the room.  To her relief, the maid was gone.  Slipping into
bed, she made an elaborate show of snuggling down und.  ~ the covers so
that the sheet was over her forehead.  Then she unwrapped the capsule.
It was difficult to open the darn thing without crushing the paper
inside.

Long ago when she'd been a school kid defying her father's rules, Marci
had read with a flashlight under the covers.  She felt ~ that now as
she burrowed more deeply under the sheet and doggedly worked to get the
two halves of the capsule apart.

After several frustrating minutes she was able to extract a tightly
rolled sheet of ultra-thin paper.  It was hard to read the tiny print
in the dim light of the LITTLE tent she'd created.  When she finally
got the sense of the message, it ~,as all she could do not to start
cursing aloud.  Was this some kind of joke?

She scanned the material, her mind automatically lengthening
abbreviations.

Jed Prentiss.  Born December 17, 1956, Palo Alto, California. Roosevelt
High School.  University of California at Santa Cruz. Major--political
science Spanish.  5 feet 11 inches; 165 lb.  On a dare from Dave
Springer, college roommate, had boar's head tattooed on right buttock. 
Sleeps in the buff.

Marissa made a small choking sound.  She didn't give a damn about Jed
Prentiss's hidden tattoos or what he wore to bed.  Yet she was smart
enough to know why he'd supplied her with this material.  As his
fiancee, she'd be expected to have seen his bare butt--and to know what
he wore to bed.  Those and all the other details on this list.  Her
~eyes scanned down the sheet.

Drinks coffee--with milk and sugar.  Favorite dessert--none.  Would
rather have espresso or Irish coffee.  Hates eggplant.  Favorite
singer, Bob Seager.

There was more.  Like his brand of toothpaste.  His mother's maiden
name--Sarah Fielding.  His preference in football and baseball
teams--the 49ers and the Giants.

It was a mini course on the life of Jed Prentiss--some- thing she'd
never considered studying.  Yet she made an attempt to memorize the
list.

Somewhere between San Francisco sourdough bread.  -- he loved it--and
157 Wintergreen StrUt in Laurel, Maryland--where his house was
located--she nodded off.

Sometime later, a knock on the door jerked her awake.  For a terrified
moment she didn't know where she was.  Then she heard the maid's voice
asking if she was all right.

"Un momento," she called out as she began to scrabble through the bed
covers searching for the list.  Locating it under the pillow, she
breathed a little prayer of thanks and squeezed the thin paper into a
ball in her fist.  "Se~orita ?"

The door opened just as Marissa belatedly remembered she hadn't
collected all of the incriminating evidence.  There was still the
capsule.  Cursing herself for letting go of the darn thing, she
pretended to straighten the bedding as she searched for the halves of
the small plastic container.  When she jerked on the spread, one
rounded piece leaped up at her like a Mexican jumping bean.  As it hit
the bed again, she captured it in her free hand.

Anna hurried forward.  "You don't have to do that.  Let me help you."

"Is it time for dinner already?"  she asked in a sleepy voice, scanning
the floor beside the bed.  No capsule half.  If Anna found it, maybe
she'd think it had something to do with drugs.  " Marissa grimaced. Her
life was in a sorry state when her choices were being taken for a
druggie or a spy.

She worked at putting some enthusiasm in her voice.  "Pick out a dress
you think the general will like while I wash my face."

Praying the woman would leave the bed alone, Mar-issa made for the
bathroom.  Behind the closed door she briefly debated hiding the ball
of paper in one of the dressing table drawers so she could study it
bier. But that was taking too much' of a chance.  Hoping she would
remember most of the information, she flushed the list and the half
container down the to' get

The thought of seeing Sanchez and Jed again made her hand shake as she
washed her face and dabbed on a LITTLE of the eye shadow that was still
in her cosmetic bag.  Most of her tortoiseshell pins and combs were
missing, so she brushed her hair back from her face and left it to fall
loosely down her back.

The men would probably like the effect.  For her the flowing hair was
simply a visfole sign of her loss of control.

So was the dress Anna had selected.  As she had feared, it made her
look like a village girl on her way to the big city.  And the lack of a
slip was unfortunate, she decided as she inspected her image in the
full-length mirror.  She could see her legs much too clearly through
the gauzy fabric of the skirt.

With a grimace she rummaged through the closet.  But there was nothing
else that would do any better.  She glanced at Anna again,-wishing 'she
was alone so she could look for the other capsule haft.  But that
was/m-possible.  When a guard knocked on the door, she squared her
shoulders and ignored his scrutiny as she preceded him down the hall to
the first floor.

El Sere was waiting for her in a small sitting room that was almost as
ezpensively furnished as his office.  "You look quite refreshed," he
remarked, sweeping his eyes up and down her body as if he could see it
perfectly through the thin fabric of the drew.

Hands at her sides, Marissa kept herself from tugging at the shoulders
to raise the neckline.

The general was wearing a formal uniform, the rows of medals on his
chest another token of hh elevated status compared to hers.

Anticipating Jed's imminent arrival, she glanced toward the door.

"I expect you're looking for your fiance."  Sanchez smiled as he spoke,
yet there was an edge in his voice that made Marissa's nerve endings
come to attention.

"Yes."

"He'll he along later.  You and I got off on the wrong foot, so I
invited you down a LITTLE early to make amends," he said, playing the
part of the gracious host.

I'll bet, Marissa thought, studying him covertly as she took a seat on
the couch.  "I understand why you have to be suspicious of me,~" she
remarked graciously as her mind flashed on the camera and the film
she'd hidden in his toilet tank.

"Please, we won't let any past mimnderstandings spoil the evening. What
can I get you to drink?  Sherry?  White zinfandel?"

"Sherry."  She kept her gaze trained on his back as he turned to the
drink trolley in the corner.  Even the way he poured from the cut glass
decanter conveyed a posture of command.  Yet he wasn't entirely at
ease.  Why?  All sorts of disturbing speculations leaped to mind.  Did
he know something?  Or was this a fishing expedition?

To regain her equilibrium, she tried to focus on the details of the
room--like the bust of George Washington in the corner.  Was Sanchez
arrogant enough to see himself as an equally important military man?

Looking down at the beautifully inlaid table in front of her, she fixed
her gaze on a small statue of the Mayan rain god.  Too bad it wasn't
the god of fools who get themselves into impossible situations, She
could have offered up a prayer.

"Tell me, how did you and Jed meet?"  Sanchez asked in a conversational
tone as he offered her the drink.

So that was his game.  He had her alone, and he was going to try to
trap her.  She took a small sip of sherry, aware that she had to keep
her wits about her.  "It's nice of you to take an interest in us."

"Jed and I are old friends.  But we've lost touch.  I'm counting on you
to fill me in."

"We were both with the American embassy in Colombia."

"So you're into undercover work," he remarked too CAIsuaily.

"Oh, no, nothing so glamorous," she answered with a little laugh. "Most
State Department employees have enough to do without worrying about
undercover assignments."

"Well, Jed's managed.  How long ago were you in.  Colombia?"

"Five years."

"And the two of you have been close all that time?"  In response to the
general's line of attack, Marissa felt her stomach tighten.  Had he
already asked her "fiance" the same things so that he could compare
their answers?  Or would that come lair?  All at once she was glad of
the information on the sheet in the capsule.  At least she had a fund
of personal detaihshe hadn't known a few hours

She called up a little smile.  "We didn't like each other at first,"
she answered, sticking with a sanitized version of the truth and
playing for time.  The longer she could stay with vague generalities,
the better.

"Oh?"

"We were both too ambitious, I think.  And then it was hard for a man
like Jed to accept a woman as an equal."

Sanchez nodded, his full attention on her.  It was all she could do to
keep from wiphag her sweaty palms on her skirt.

"Butour work kept throwing us together.  And gradually we realized we
had a lot in common.  We became engaged this year."

Sanchez shook his head.  "I can't get over Jed's--how do you Americans
put it--making a commitment.  Even to someone as lovely as you."

"I like to think I've changed him."  Mouthing that line made her
stomach knot even tighter, but she 10cpt her voice level.

"Some men do behave themselves when they're engaged.~Did he ever tell
you about the time we judged a wet T-shirt contest in Cozumel?"

Marissa's hand tightened on the glass of sherry.  Sanchez was playing a
version of "The Newlywed Game."  Only the losing couple wasn't going to
get a year's supply of dishwashing detergent as a consolation prize.
They were going to be taken out and shot.  She sighed and smiled.  "I
don't know every rowdy incident from his past, but it's no secret that
he's enjoyed his bachelorhood."

"And what do you think of that hilarious tattoo on his thigh?"

Her cheeks warmed.  "General, really!  If you know about his tattoo,
you know it isn't on his thigh."  She gestured helplessly with her
hands.  "But I'm the last person you should he talking to about 'his
wild past.  What's important to me is that I've got him now, and I've
decided it's better not to pry into the things he did before our
engagement."  The speech sounded convincing to her.  She marveled that
she hadn't choked on the last word.

Prolonging her agony, Sanchez studied her for silent moments, a smile
flickering about his lips.  "I apolog'me for tormenting you, my
dear."

"Then let's change the subject."

"Of course.  If you'll just satisfy a little more of my curiosity. When
did he first kiss you?"

In front of the firing squad.  Marissa felt lightheaded as she
frantically thought of and discarded answers.

"Our first kiss is a little too personal to talk about, don't you
think, Miguel?"  Jed answered from the doorway.  He noted the
frustrated look that flashed across El Jefe's face before he managed to
conceal the reaction.  But Jed knew how to read the signs.  The
situation was deteriorating.

He opened his arms to Marissa.  Rising from the couch she crossed to
him,

"I'm glad you're here, dear heart," she whispered.  "So am I."

He folded her close, feeling the fine tremor of her body as she pressed
her cheek against the starched front of his tuxedo shirt.  At that
moment he wished he'd worn something softer.

"Are they treating you all right?  Did you get some rest, honey bee?"

"Yes.  And yes."

"Good."  He brushed his nose along her hairline, breathing in her
clean, fresh scent, realizing such familiar.  gestures were becoming
second nature.

"Mmm.  I like what you do for Miguel's shampoo.  But ask the maid to
bring you some of that gardenia perfume I like."

He saw her swallow, but she didn't pull away.  He couldn't stop himself
from taking more liberties, nibbling his lips along her check and
murmuring a low endearment.  He knew Sanchez was watching.  He might
have argued that cuddling like this was an important part of their act.
Except that he was rapidly forgetting about the audience.  What he
wanted was to draw Marei into a dark corner of the hacienda where they
could be alone.

"How long were you standing there?"  the general asked, reminding him
that they were playing a deadly serious game.  But that didn't mean he
had to turn his fi "Long enough."

He'd been lurking in the doorway for several minutes listening to
Miguel give Marei the third degree, and his admiration for her had
grown as he'd noted her confident rejoinders.  She'd made up some of
her answers out of whole doth.  Others had come from the sheets of
paper in the capsule.  Lord, she was good under pressure.

He'd been half tempted to find out what she would say about the/r first
ldssg But he'd been angry at Sanchez for going too far.

He looked down at Mate/and grinned.  "Miguel loves to brag about that
wet T-shirt com test  It's one of the highlights of his international
Uavels."

Sanchez made a derisive sound.

"He's a man of dramatic contrasts," Jed continued, knowing he was
upping the ante by baiting E/.  Iefe, but he needed to let off some
steam.  "It's all right for the guys from " San Marcos to sow their
wild oats when they're away from home.  But out here on his fin ca he~s
not letting an engaged couple sleep in.  the same bedroom,"

Marissa made a little choking noise.

"I know things are quite a bit more liberal in the States," Sanchez
said. "But in my country, engaged is one thing.  Married is quite
another."

led couldn't repress a little grin.  "That's one solution to the
problem.  But I know your sister and the rest of the Light Street gang
would never forgive me if I scuttled the big wedding they've been
planning."

Marissa stared up at him with a slightly dazed look as if she'd just
realized that an engagement was usually a prelude to a wedding
ceremony.  He pre~ksed his fingers over her wrist, feeling her pulse
leap.

Would marrying me be so bad?  he wanted to ask.  But hccouldn't do it
in front of Sanchez.  Wasn't them anywhere they could risk having a
personal conversation?

Even if they found some privacy, minor considerations Jim his reaction
to him would have to take a back seat to the more important issue of
how they were going to get out of San Marcos alive.

Still, he was in a ~ mood.  "Just think how great making love is going
to be when we finally get back together he whispered, his fingers
playing with a strand of hair at her ~emple.

Marissa swallowed hard.

"See, I'm actually doing you a favor," Sanchez said with a show of good
humor.

"Thanks a lot, amigo."

The general slapped him on the back.  "Now that I've whetted your
appetite, why don't we go in to dinner."

Marissa's face was rigid as she turned and stepped rapidly into the
hall.  Jed wanted to ~ her that bantering about women was a good way to
distract Miguel, but he had no chance.  ,

The dining room was large, with a table that seated sixlren.  Only
three places in the center were set with crisp white linen, fine china
and gleaming silver.

Sanchez sat across one long end from his guests where he could watch
both of them as he kept up the flow of questions through the avocados
vinaigrette and the spicy se~ood soup.  The meal was a strange mixture
of the ha felt obligated to serve.

The conversation was a mine field, full of traps for the unwary. Madssa
was sitting with her left hand clenched in her lap.  When Jed reached
unobtrusively across to press his fingers over hers, he felt how cold
her skin was.

The main course of stewed chicken with black beans was served.  Miguel
tore into the food, and Jed hoped he was going to concentrate on
eating.  But after several bi~es he was at the interrogation again like
a dog with a succulent bone.  "So your travel agency is located in
Baltio more?"  he asked Madssa.

"Yes."

"And Jed's still got his apartment in D.C.?"

"No.  He moved to Laurel.  To he closer to me."

"I've got half my staff in her apartment, anyway," Jed added.  "We'll
get a bigger place afar we're married.

Mayhe something like her sister's town house where we can each have our
own bathroom, and I won't have to deal with panty hose drying over the
shower rod.  "

Marci's face contorted as she wondered why he was going into so much
intimate detail.  Then it dawned on her that he was cutting into
Sanchez's interrogation time.

They continued to answer questions, each letting the other take the
ones that would sound most natural, and Marissa had the exhilarating
feeling that she and Jed were working very well as a team.  Perhaps
they should have tried it before.

"How do you like his gun collection?"  the general asked her, raising
his voice above the barking of the dogs that had started outside.

Involuntarily, Jed's fingers dug into hers.  Gun collecting had never
been one of his hobbies.

"He must have it in storage.  I haven't seen it," Ma-rissa answered
carefully.

Good for you.  He gave her a LITTLE grin.

"And what"

The general stopped in mid question interrupted by a slamming door. The
noise was followed by a loud voice speaking urgently in Spanish. After
several seconds the general got up.  "Un momento, por favor."

"Certainly," Jed said.  "Stay here."

When the door closed behind him, he and Iviarissa were alone for the
first time in hours.

Marissa could barely repress a scream of/rustration.  "I can't take
much more of this," she blurted.

"I know, honey bee."  Jed drew her out of her seat, away from the table
and into his arms.  She wanted to shout out that he was as much of the
problem as Sanchez.  She knew she had to keep up the role she'd been
assigned, even when it looked as if the audience had disappeared.  But
if the strain continued like this, she was going to crack.

The noise level in the hall rose.  "Something's going on," Marissa
whispered.  "Let's find out what."

"Maybe that's not such a good idea.  He told us to stay

"I'm as fired as you of playing game~."  Jed strode to the door and
pulled it open.

Peering around Jed, Marissa saw that a group of men had entered the.
front hall.  Thomas Leandro, the socialist university professor, was
gesticulating wildly to Sanchez.  Behind him stood Pedro
Harara-president of the Banco Nacional, and Louis Rinaldo, the minister
of development.

The cliche Latin temperament leaped into Marissa's mind as she looked
at the group that had apparently arrived unannounced.  They were some
of the leading citizeus of San Marcos, and they were all wearing
business suits as if they'd gotten up from their desks on short no-rice
and driven directly to the general's fin ca Yet they looked like an
angry lynch mob.  "Where is the woman--Marissa Devereaux--you spirited
away?"  Leandro demanded.  "I hope she's in

"How do you know about that?"  El Sere asked, his own voice rising.

"Did you think you could keep it secret?  Someone's been asking
questions all over Santa Isabella."

Marissa stood transfixed as the front door was thrown open and William
John.  ~on, the myslm'ious Texan who'd also been at the fateful party,
marched into the hall.  She didn't know how he fit into all this.  But
one thing was clear.  He felt sure enough of himself with Sanchez to
crash the party.

"Well, well.  It looks like I've got you by the short and cur lies this
time.  If you think" -- He stopped in mid-sentence when he spotted ed.
"What's this got to do with him?"  he snapped.

Sanchez turned, finding a focus for his anger in

There was shoclaxi silence from the group in the hall as they followed
his gaze.

"I told you to stay in the dining room," El Jefe snapped.

"And I told you I'm going to make sure nothing happens to Marissa."

"On that we're in agreement, since I had her brought here for her own'
protection It's the only place in San Marcos I could be sure she'd be
safe."

Marissa blinked.  Had her sense of hearing suddenly failed?  Brought
here for her own protection?  Directly from her prison cell.  And then
marched out in front of a firing squad.  Who did the general think he
was kidding?

Sanchez looked as if he were making a considerable effort to control
himself as he continued to adderess Jed.  "I'm sorry to cut short our
dinner party, but my advisers and I have some internal problems to
discuss.  You will have to excuse us for the rest of the evening."  He
made a motion to the guards at the end of the hall and they stepped
forward.  "Escort my guests to their rooms."

Marissa tried to imagine the expression on Sanchez's face as he turned
once again to the men in the hall.  Whatever it was, he was back in
charge of the situation.  Nobody spoke.  Nobody moved as the guards
ushered her and Jed to the stairs.

Above them in the upper hall, Marissa thought she spotted something
white and brown fluttering.  She looked up in time to see Clarita
sprinting in the opposite direction, her hair streaming out behind her.
It was obvious she'd been up there listening to the commotion.

"Please, can you give me a moment with my fiance?"  Marissa asked the
guard when he stopped in front of her room.

"No."  Opening the door, he ushered her inside, and she was cut off
from communication again.

The lock clicked behind her, and she wanted to kick the door in
frustration.  Instead she acted as if she had nothing better to.  do
than get ready for bed.  In the bathroom she changed into a nightgown
and washed her face.

Outside on the grounds she could hear the dogs barking.  Were more
uninvited guests arriving?  Or were the Dobermans after some poor
animal?

Marissa tried to hang on to her anger.  That had worked for her in the
past to stave off fear.  But tonight her anxiety was too high.  She
tried another tack.  At the dressing table, she began to brush her hair
with long, slow stroker the way her mother had taught her so many years
ago.

One, two, three.  Her concentration was broken at thirty when she heard
several sets of heavy footsteps moving back and forth in the hall.

She tensed, listening.  It looked as if Leandro, Harara, Rinaldo and
Johnson had all come to the hacienda because they knew she was there.
Did they want to rescue her?  Or were they simply angry that Sanchez
had acted on his own?  Who on earth was William Johnson that he'd turn
up in the middle of such a scene?  And how would Jed's presence figure
in?

Marissa set the hairbrush back on the counter, feeling the small amount
of dinner she'd managed to eat churning in her stomach.  As she
returned to the bedroom she acknowledged that she would never get to
sleep in this condition.  But she didn't want whoever was manning the
video cameras to see her pacing back and forth all night,

While she'd been in the bathroom, the little maid or someone else had
come in and straightened the bed.

Chagrined at her lack of awareness, Marissa flashed again on the
capsule that was lost somewhere in the covers.  She'd better find it
before it tripped her up.  But how?  Maybe she could pretend she didn't
like the way the bed had been made.

Crossing the room, she grabbed the covers and flipped them down to the
bottom of the bed.

A bloodcurdling scream rose in her throat and burst out as she stared
in horror at the black, wicked-looking thing she'd uncovered.

Chapter Seven

The black shape skittered across the taut sheet, the fine hairs
covering its body shimmering in the light from the bedside lamp.  It
was a tarantula about six inches in diameter.  It was alive.  And its
natural habitat was not her bed.

Blood roaring in her ears, Marissa backed away, watching the
eight-legged creature move cautiously in the other direction.  Probably
it was as unhappy to see her as she was to find it under the covers.
But that didn't make her feel any safer.

The spider had reached the bottom of the bed when the door burst open
and one of the soldiers came dashing in.

"$e~orita.  What is it?"  His posture was defensive and his rifle was
at the ready.

With a shudder Marissa point~l to the spider.

"Stay back."  Moving swiftly across the.  room to the bed, the guard
swung the butt of his rifle against the sheet, coming down on the
intruder with a mighty blow.

Sick to her stomach, Marissa looked away, imagining that she could hear
the hairy black body exploding under the impact of the assault.  From
down the hall she could also hear Jed pounding on his door, alternately
demanding to be let out of his room and to be told what had happened to
her.

A splintering sound made her whirl.

Seconds later Jed careened past the guard, a chair leg held in front of
him like a club.  A wild and dangerous look was on his face as he
glanced around the room and located Marissa.  Making directly for her,
he took her by the shoulders.  "Honey, are you all right?  What in the
name of holy hell is going on?"

"

"A--a tarantula."  Marissa gestured toward the bed.  He spun and raised
the club.  When he spotted the spattered blob near the foot board, he
cursed.  "You were in bed with it?  It didn't bite you, did it?"  He
tossed away the chair leg.  It clattered against the wall as he went
down on one knee in front of her.  Lifting her gown, he ran his hands
along her legs, searching for bites.

She braced herself against his shoulders.  "I--I was fixing the covers
when I found it.  Otherwise, I... would have" -- The sentence.  choked
off in a little sob.

"Marci.  It's all right, Marci."  His arms went around her, gathering
her close so that his head was pressed to her middle.

Every defense she'd learned over the past few years urged her to pull
away, and for the first few seconds she pushed against him.  Then as
she became aware of his warm breath on her navel and the scratchy feel
of his beard against her stomach, rational thought deserted her.  In
that moment she couldn't remember why he had come into her room in the
first place.  Her eyelids drifted closed, and her hands tunneled
through his hair, gathering him closer against her.

This time when he said her name, she felt the vibration of his lips.
Transfixed, she forgot to breathe.  For several 'heartbeats neither of
them seemed capable of breaking apart.

Finally he stirred.  As his warmth deserted her, she reached for him,
but he climbed to his feet and stood in front of her shaking his head
as if he were having the same problems as she.  But when he anchored
her with his gaze, he was all bus' mess "Take your time, but tell me
what happened."

Her bottom lip trembled.  Too much was happening too fast, she thought
for the second time that day.  With Jed.

With the danger closing in around them.

"Honey, stay with me."

He used the phrase from when he'd been about to show her the capsule.
He must have known it would get her attention.

She nodded, struggling for coherence.  "Somebody sneaked in here and
left that in my bed "

Jed murmured reassuring words as she stroked his hands across her
shoulders.  "The bite hurts, but it wouldn't have killed you."

"I know.  But the idea of getting in bed with it makes me cringe." Eyes
closed again, she pressed her face against his chest.  It was then she
realized for the first time that he was naked to the waist, and she was
in her nightgown.  As she stared at the well-developed muscles in his
arm, her heart started to pound again.  But she knew she didn't want to
untangle herself from the sense of safety his powerful body gave her. 
She closed her eyes and moved her cheek against his bare chest, fee,
ling the springy hair against her flesh and breathing in the clean
scent of his body, wishing with an ache in her heart that everything
could he simple and uncomplicated between them.  But nothing was
simple.  Not their personal relationship.  Not the perils of Sanchcz's
fin ca Jed continued to gentle her, as if the two of them really did
mean something to each other.  For a moment she let that fantasy
tantalize her person could draw such comfort from the physical presence
of another.  When she felt his lips brush her hair, she sighed and
snuggled closer to him.  "Let's get out of here."

Rebecca

She nodded, longing for him to take her away from this place of fear
and confusion.  "You're not supposed to be together."  The guard brohe
through the cocoon Jed had woven around them.  "How did you get out of
your room?"  "The doors aren't all that solid."  He gestured toward the
chair leg he'd dropped on the floor.  The man looked incredulous.
Marissa's gaze swung from Jed to the massive wood door of her own
chamber.  If he'd battered his way through one like that, he must he as
strong as a stallion.  Or desperate.  "C~t the general up here."
Vflthout waiting for an answer "Jed crossed to the closet and began to
shuffle through the clothes.  Pulling a robe off the hanger, he came
back and draped it over her shoulders.

"Thanks."  She slipped her arms through the sleeves and pulled the belt
tighL

"El Sere.  Pronto," Jed prompted, addressing the guard again.

The man shifted from one foot to the other as if he wished someone else
had drawn this duty.  "E/Sere is not supposed to be disturbed."

"Get him.  Or I will."

The threat proved to be unnecessary.  Sanchez himself appeared in the
doorway, his expression dark as he looked from Jed to Marissa and back.
She imagined he'd already seen the ruined door.  "What's the meaning of
this?  You're supposed to be in separate rooms while you stay in this
house."

"We were until I heard Marissa screaming."

"I demand to know what is going on."

Jed gestured toward the ruined bed.  "Look.  somebody has it in for
her.  By now she could have been curling up to a tarantula.  Luckily
she stopped to fix the

Sanchez appeared genuinely shocked, but he could have been faking the
reaction.  "The bite isn't fatal."

"Let's put one on your leg and see how you like it!"  Jed growled.
Then, making an effort to recover his composure, he spoke in a cooler
tone.  "Then you don't know anything about this?"

"Certainly not," Sanchez snapped.

"In the barracks sometimes we find tarantulas--and other wildlife," the
soldier offered.

"Under the bed covers?"  Jed inquhwd.

He shook his head.

"So who do you suppose put it there?"  Jed asked his host.  "One of
your staff?  Or one of your fire-breathing advisers?  I suppose they
all came up to inspect their own rooms."

"That's right; But none of them would dare try such a trick.  Maybe
it's just an unfortunate accident."

"Don't tell me you've started believing in coincidences?"

"We will discuss this in the morning."

"I can't sleep in that bed" Marissa choked out.  "Not

El lefe looked from her to the ruined sheet, considering.  "You can
move to another room."

"I'm staying with her," Jed growled.

"I don't think so."

Eyes narrowed, shoulders tense, the two men stood facing each other
like gunfighters in old Dodge City.  But in this case, only Sanchez had
a gun in a holster on his belt.

Marissa saw the fingers of his right hand open and close, and she knew
she had to defuse the tension between the two men.  "Jed, it's okay,"
she managed to say.  "The rules are different down here.  We'll follow
them while we're General Sanchez's guests.  I don't want have any more
trouble tonight."

Jed nodded tightly.  Breaking away from the general, he came back to
her and looked down into her eyes.  "Are you going to be okay?"

His gaze bored into hers, and she lowered her lashes.  It was a futile
gesture.  She probably wasn't fooling him about her state of mind.  She
was a nervous wreck, and she wouldn't be okay until she was home. Maybe
not then.  But she had sense enough to keep her own counsel.

More soldiers were stationed in the hall, several of them excitedly
inspecting the ruined door halfway down the corridor.  Their buzz of
conversation stopped abruptly and they snapped to attention when
Sanchez appeared.  He had a hurried consultation with a lieutenant
before gesturing toward another wing of the house.  "There are only two
more rooms that are ready for visitors.  Jaime will take you."  Without
further delay he hurried back down the steps.

iVlarissa spotted two shadowy figures standing in the lower hall
craning their necks toward the action like spectators in the cheap
seats at a boxing match.

From her vantage point she recognized l. eandro's balding head and
Harara's squat carriage.  The professor caught her inquiring stare and
looked guiltily away.  Both men disappeared down the hall when they
heard Sanchez's footsteps.

Had one of them slipped into her room while she'd been in the bathroom
and put the spider in her bed?  Not Leandro, certainly.  He had been
very friendly at the party.  And he was reputed to be a pacifist.  Of
course, Harara was another matter.  She'd sensed when they'd first been
introduced that he didn't like her.  But would he carry his dislike
that far?  And what about the other men who had arrived tonight?
Johnson and Rinaldo.  Maybe the perpetrator was deliberately staying
out of sight.

She glanced at ~Ied, wondering if he'd also seen the spectators below.
But he was walking with his head bowed.  Moments ago his whole body had
radiated tension as if he'd been plugged in to a light socket.  Now he
looked so tired he' could hardly put one foot in front of the other.

"Are you all right?"  she whispered.

She didn't like the automatic way he answered or the way he turned his
face to the Side so she couldn't see his eyes.  But before they could
say any more, she reached her new quarlms.  The lieutenant stepped
between her and Jed, cutting off further communication.

When he opened her door she looked under his arm and saw Jed's guards
stop in front of the next doorway.  He hall~xl,.  too, bracing his hand
against the wall.

Her chest tightened.  She wanted to go to him and find out what was
wrong.  But when she didn't immediately step into her room, the
lieutenant took her by the shoulders and thrust her none too gently
through the door.  "Wait."

Ignoring her plea, he shut it behind her with an ominotrs click.  Then
she was alone in a pitch-black room.  She whirled on thick carpet.
There wasn't even a sliver of light coming in from under the door.

"No.  Let me out."  Raising her fists, Marissa pounded against the
rigid barrier.  But no one answered, and she stopped after a few
moments.

Closing her eyes to shut out the darkness, Marissa pressed her cheek
against the smooth wood.  Convulsively, her hand fumbled for the knob
and twisted one way and then the other.  It was a useless exercise. The
door was locked.  She was trapped in utter blackness.  And it had been
ten years since she'd felt anything but mindless fear in a dark room.

She understood the symptoms.  Abby had explained to her about panic
disorder.  She knew exactly why this was happening to her.  Yet she
couldn't stop a fine sheen of perspiration from blooming on her skin.
She couldn't stop herself from gasping air into her lungs like a
half-drowned swimmer pulled from the bottom of a murky lake.  And she
couldn't stop the uncontrollable shaking of her body as her ears
strained for the sound of someone approaching.  Someone who was going
to leap on her and She gritted her ~ and chopped off the thought.  Not
now.  She wouldn't let this happen.

She would not let the old horror take over her mind and soul and make
it' impossible for her to function like a rational human being.  The
air around her felt thick and smothering.  She wanted to sink to the
floor and cover her head protectively with her hands.  Instead she
focused on taking shallow breaths.  Knees locked so she wouldn't topple
over, she reached out both hands and began to search along the wall for
a light switch or table that might hold a lamp.  Perhaps it was only
seconds, but it felt like hours before her fingers brushed a switch
plate.

Flipping the toggle, Marissa whimpered in relief as blessed light
flooded down from a small chandelier.  Leaning against the wall, she
Waited while her heartbeat returned to normal and the fine tremors
stopped racing over her skin.

As she came back to normal, she began to look around the room.  It was
enough of a surprise that she shook her head in disbelief.  While her
previous quarters had been comfortable, these accommodations looked.
like the presidential suite in a five-star hotel.  She was standing in
a large seating area furnished with velvet-covered couches, Oriental
rugs and antique chest ~and tables.  Through a doorway to the right
room and through that she could see a balcony that looked out over the
courtyard.

With a cynical twist of her mouth that only partly hid the fear in her
eyes, she considered her surroundings.  This room might be more opulent
than the last one, but the door was still locked from the outside. That
meant Sanchez could come in any time he wanted.  Except that it wasn't
only the general she had to worry about anymore.  An angry group of his
advisers had arrived at the hacienda.  And someone had tried to .  to
what?  Frighten her out of her mind?  Put her out.  of commission and
make it look like an unfortunate accident?

Marissa's skin felt clammy as she considered the possibilities.  What
was she going to do the next time a plate of food was in front of her?
Surely it would be as easy to slip poison into her soup as it had been
to slip a tarantula into her bed.  ,

Sinking into one of the chairs, she cradled her head in her hands.  She
knew she was in danger of losing it--that she was overreacting to the
darkn~s and to the peril all around her.  But she simply couldn't help
herself.  She needed to feel that someone in this place was on her
side.  No, not just someone.  She needed Jed.

As she pictured him, her hand stroked back and forth over the nubby
fabric of the bedspread, and she realized she was remembering the feel
of Jed's beard against her flesh.  She whispered his name aloud as she
thought about the way he'd acted at din net--as if he was as unnerved
as she by the questions designed to trip them up.  And the way he'd
battered down the door at the sound of her scream.  It was pretty
convincing evidence that he cared about what happened to her.  Unless.
She bit back the rest of the thought.  She had to hang on to something
or lose her mind.  And whether Jed liked it or not, he was elected.

J~D STOOD NEAR THe DOOR holding on to the wall, sucking in air an~d
expelling it too rapidly.  He knew he was hyperventilating.  It made
him light-headed.  Yet he was pretty sure that wasn't the only reason
he felt as if he were about to topple over.

Fear of what was happening to him clawed at his insides.  He tried to
find some reserve of physical and mental strength that would pull him
out of the torpor into which he was rapidly sinking.  But he was too
bone weary.

He'd learned his limitations.  He knew what could happen to him when he
was running on empty.  He'd even told Abby Franklin about it.  And he
knew he never should have gone berserk and battered that door down. Not
in the kind of shape he was already in.  But a wild panic had seized
him when he'd heard Marci scream.  He'd imagined one of Miguel's men
stealing into her room to have some fun with her.  Or worse--to plunge
a knife into her heart.  He'd had to save her, whatever the cost.  So
he'd demolished the barrier between them like a bull elephant trying
to, get to his mate.  And now he was in serious trouble.

Unbidden, his gaze flicked to the bed.  He'd been trying to pretend it
wasn't there.  All at once it was impossible not to stare at the wide,
inviting surface.  The thing he craved most in the world was to crawl
under the covers, close his eyes and give in to blessed sleep.  That
was all he needed.  Just a few hours in the sack and he'd be fine, he
told himself.  He took an unsteady step toward the bed, then another.

Before he reached it he made a strangled sound deep in his throat and
bit down hard on his lower lip.  The pain and the coppery taste of
blood in his mouth brought back a little of his reasoning ability.

A hollow laugh rumbled in his chest.  Who the hell did he think he was
kidding?  Only himself.  It was happening again.  The creeping sickness
stream was taking over his body.  And if he lay down it wouldn't be for
a mere few hours.  It would be more like a day and a haft--if he was
lucky.

He had to stay awake.  Long enough for the terrible craving for sleep
to pass.  Then he'd be okay.  He'd be okay because there was no
alternative

MAmSSA SWALLOWED around the lump that had risen in her throat.  Since
the 'door had closed behind her, she'd been so focused on her own fears
that she'd hardly been thinkin~ about Jed except as her savior.  Now
that she was a little calmer, she started to consider the way he'd
looked just before her view of him had been cut off.  He'd gone from
violently aggressive to pale and quiet in a matter of

Her mind made a terrifying leap.  My God, had someone been after both
of them tonight?  Had she gotten the tarantula while ~Ied had been fed
the poison?  She might have dismissed the speculation as paranoia.  But
not in this house where new dangers seemed to spring up around every
turn.

Fear clawing at her insides, she shouted Jed's name and pounded on the
wall.  There was no answer.  Either he didn't hear or be couldn't
answer.  Her pulse was thumping wildly as she looks!  toward the
sliding glass door.  Could she get to Jed's room from the balcony?

Midway to the exit she stopped short, wondering if her mind had stopped
functioning altogether.  The moment she'd walked into her previous
quarters she'd assumed she was being watched by a surveillance
system.

Brow wrinkled, she tried to think it through, forcing herself to use
precious seconds.  Sanchez hadn't planned to put her and Jed in these
rooms.  Unless every bedroom in the whole hacienda was equipped with a
video camera, this one could be safe.  Still, as she stepped into the
tropical night she pulled the drapes closed behind her.

The moon was half full, but it wasn't the only source of illumination.
The stars shone down with a brightness that was startling to anyone who
lived in a populated area where the ambient light drowned out the
natural display.  Here in the jungle it was difficult to recognize even
the most familiar constellations because there were so many more stars
than expected.

Marissa gazed across at the opposite wing of the house.  Maybe there
was no video camera inside her room~ but if she tried to contact Jed,
would someone be watching from one of the darkened windows?  Would they
come sweeping into the room and drag her down to the prison cells?  She
shuddered, but she didn't return to her room.

Cautiously she made her way to the railing.  By leaning far out and
peering to the right, she could see into the next room,--the one that
ought to be Jed's.  A lamp was lit, and a surge of relief rose in her
chest as she saw him.  Hope leaped in her breast.  He was there!  On
his feet.  But her feeling of relief died almost as soon as it was
born.  ed was shuffling slowly across the carpet like a man whose feet
were encased in cement boots.  As she watched, he flopped into a chair
by the window, threw his head back and closed his eyes.

In the next moment his head jerked up again and his lids snapped open.
He seemed to be looking in her direction.  Mouthing his name, she waved
her arms in a wide arc.  He didn't respond, but perhaps with the light
on beside him, he couldn't see her through the glass.  Charging back
into her room, she looked around for something suitable to throw at the
window--something that wouldn't break but that would still be heavy
enough to attract attention.  The only thing that came to hand was a
small metal vase sitting on one of the tables.  Bringing it out to the
balcony, she judged the distance to Jed's window as she weighed the
miss' de in her palm.  Then she pitched it in an underhand throw that
landed it against the bottom of the glass.

Her swing was a little too vigorous.  But she was lucky the glass
hadn't broken.  The loud clanging noise of the vase colliding with the
glass made her glance around anxiously for a squad of soldiers or a
pack of barking dogs~ But no one came running to investigate.

Looking back at the window, she expected to see Jed standing with his
hands cupped against the glass trying to figure out what was going on.
But he was still sitting in the same position in the chair, staring
vacantly as if he were oblivious to his surroundings.

The hair on the top of ~her scalp prickled.  If he hadn't heard that
clatter, something was seriously wrong.

Marissa stared at the seven feet of dead space that separated her
balcony from ed's.  Hitching up her gown, she climbed outside her
railing, held on with her left hand and stretched as far as she could
with her right foot.  But she couldn't touch the Other side.

Looking down, she grimaced in frustration.  It was only one story to
the ground.  But the patio below her was cement.  If she fell, she
could break a bone--or knock herself unconscious.  Then the dogs would
be on her.

She turned her gaze to ~Jed again.  He was sitting in exactly the same
position, apparently unaware of what was happening even though he was
staring in her direction.  Her throat constricted with apprehension. He
needed her.  She felt it in her bones.  And that knowledge had a
curiously steadying effect on her roiling emotions.  Since she'd been
thrown into one of Sanchez's cells, she'd lost control of her fate.
When ~Jed had appeared out of nowhere she'd been in danger of
surrendering to his strength.  That role had made her uneasy.  Now
there was something she had to do for Him, and she wasn't going to let
him down.

Turning back toward the house, she inspected the vines growing on the
wall.  She would have liked a more secure ladder, but they were her
only option.

After tying her gown and robe around her hips so her legs would be
free, she climbed up on the railing and grabbed a handful of ropelike
lengths.  Yanking hard, she tested them as best she could, hoping they
would support her weight.

Fingers mentally.  crossed she transferred her grip to the vine.  It
still seemed to hold, so she stepped off the railing.  Hanging twelve
feet in the air, she began to inch caution sly toward the far balcony,
feeling her handholds and footholds in the foliage.

When she was halfway across the chasm there was a terrible ripping
sound, and then the awful sensation of falling as the vine gave way.

Chapter Eight

Acting purely on instinct, Marissa threw herself to the left, bouncing
painfully against the far railing as pieces of vine rained onto her
head and shoulders.  Lucidly her reflexes were good.  Somehow in the
tangled confusion of greenery she managed to hook her fingers over the
metal balustrade to keep from plummeting to the concrete below.

Eyes closed against the debris, she held on for dear life until the sky
stopped falling around her.  When she was certain it was safe to move,
she pulled herself-over the railing, then lay sprawled on the balcony
surface, breathing hard, surrounded by broken stems and torn leaves.
Cautiously she sat up and assessed the damage.  Her shoulder throbbed,
but moving it didn't cause any additional pain.  So it was probably
only bruised.  In fact, she seemed to be in remarkably good shape, she
decided as she brushed plant debris from her clothing.  Apparently no
one had heard the commotion.  On the' other hand, anyone walking below
who happened to glance up would realize something drastic had happened.
But if she was lucky, that wouldn't be a problem until morning.

Never mind how she'd get back to her own room.

Pulling herself up, she brushed the leaves from her robe and readjusted
the front, half expecting Jed to come charging outside to investigate
the commotion.

He didn't.  As she retied her belt, she peered through the window.  He
still appeared to be looking in her direction, yet he was sitting in
the chair, unmoving, as if he was watching a television screen instead
of a death-defying performance on his balcony.

Fear hastening her movements, she yanked open' the sliding glass door
and stepped inside.  ,"Jed?"

No response.

In half a second she was across the room.  Sinking to her knees in
front of him, she grasped his liirge hands in her smaller ones.  They
were so cold that she sucked in a startled breath.  God, he felt as if
he'd been in a morgue.

Panic threatened to swamp her, but she forced it down as she studied
him more closely, intent on grasping every detail of the situation.  He
was dressed almost as she'd encountered him last, in the tuxedo pants
from this evening.  But~he'd kicked off his shoes as he'd crossed the
room.  From the corner of her eye she saw one near the bed.  The other
was closer to the chair.

His skin was the color of oatmeal.  His eyes were still open, but they
were unblinking, and they had turned the hue of ice frozen for
centuries in an arctic wasteland.  Even more alarming, his breathing
was so shallow that she wasn't sure she could detect it.  Frantically
she pressed her hand against.  his naked chest, burying her palm in the
springy hair, feeling for the beat of his heart.  She felt no sign of
life.  That was when gut-wrenching fear really slammed into her.
Crasping, she probed harder, her fingers digging into his flesh.  The
breath left her lungs in a rush when she found a slow but steady beat.
~

Mariaaa eased the pressure when she realized that her fingernails were
gouging him, although he gave absolutely no sign that he felt the pain.
For that matter, he didn't seem aware that she was even in the room.

What in the name of all that was holy could have happened to him so
quickly?  A haft hour ago he'd been ready to duke it out with Sanchez.
But something had changed radically.  And the only hypothesis that made
sense was that her wildest suspicions had been confirmed.

He'd been poisoned.  Mayhe at dinner.  Mayhe from food or water in his
room.  Was Sanchez responsible?  Or someone else?

She bit back a frightened sob.  Jed's life might depend on getting him
to a doctor quickly.  But she didn't even know if there was a physician
out here in the country,~--or if he'd be willing to risk getting
involved with a patient Sanchez was holding in a locked room.

She hardly knew she was mumbling aloud--half pleas to Jed to come back
to her, half pleas to the almighty to bring him back.  Opening his
knees, she moved between them so that she could get closer as she
continued to chafe his cold hands, stroke his bare arms and winnow her
fingers through the hair on his chest.  Unconsciously she was trying to
bring him back to life with her touch.  At the same time, some part of
her mind realized dimly that she needed the physical contact as much as
he.

"I'll get help," she murmured, her lips moving against his cold cheek,
her hand cupping possessively around his head.  "You'll he okay.  You
have to be."  She started to scramble to her feet when a whisper of
sound from his lips made her go very still.  Her attention snapped back
to his face.

Somehow in her frenzy of touching him and talking to him, a tiny part
of the.  glazed look had lifted from his eyes.  He was staring at her,
and this time she was sure that he was really seeing her, that he knew
who she was.  His lips moved, and he seemed to be making a tremendous
effort to communicate.  What finally came out was a strangled version
of her name.

"Mar ... ci."

"Oh, Jed, I'm here.  Just hang on.  I'm going to get a doctor."

The muscles around his n~outh contorted into a grimace.  "N... o."

She hadn't expected an answer--or an argument from a man in this
condition.  "I think you've been poisoned," she blurted and then
immediately wished she hadn't said so much.  She didn't need to add
fear to his problems.

He shook his head, the barest 'movement' She might have missed the
gesture if she hadn't been focused on him with every ounce of her
concentration.

"I'll he right back."

"Stay .... " He gasped in air and expelled it in a series of disjointed
syllables.  "Happ ... ens ... to ... me."  It sounded as if he were
dredging up each word from the depths of his soul, letter by painful
letter, and she had the feeling he was determined to make the
explanation or die.

She clenched her hands in frustration.  It was hard to understand his
slurred speech--and equally hard to judge if he really knew what he was
saying or if he was hallucinating.

Torn between going for help and listening to what he was trying to say,
she angled her head so she could get a closer look at him.  As she
searched his face, she saw that his eyes were piercing, almost pleading
for her aid.

"What are you talking about?"  she.  whispered.

"Happened ... before " His tongue flicked against his lips.  "Water

Marci glanced toward the door and back to Jed again.  His hands
tightened on hers, the pressure weak but urgent.  "Help .... "

Tom in two, she tried to decide what to do.  She was taking a terrible
risk, but his wishes were so strong that she couldn't ignore them.
Rising, she sprinted to the bathroom.  When she returned with a glass
of water, he still hadn't moved, but she could see that his eyes were
tracking her, and her heart surged as she realized the improvement in
only a few minutes.  If he'd been poisoned,

wouldn't he be getting worse--not better?

She knelt beside him again, supporting his head with one arm and
lifting the glass to his lips with the other.  He sp'filed a little as
he drank thirstily, and she wiped her hand against his chin, vividly
conscious of the intimacy of helping him with something so basic.

When half the waler was gone, he closed his eyes and sighed deeply. She
brushed the damp hair back from his forehead.  His color was pinker,
his breathing more regular.  Pressing her hand against his chest, she
decided that even his skin temperature seemed closer to normal. 
Silently she offered a little prayer of thanks.

He was watching her closely.  All at once she didn't feel comfortable
with her hand plaslered against his naked chest.  Not when he was
staring at her with such intensity.  Trying to look matter-of-fact, she
lifted her palm away and took his wrist, probing the pulse point.  It
took a few seconds to feel anything, because the beat was still
alarmingly slow.  "Are you feeling better?"

"Pain."

She was immediately alert.  "What hurts?"

"Nothing She saw his Adam's apple bob.

"Need... hit... me."

"What?"  She gasped, tipping her head to the side,

wondering if she'd heard right and, if she had, whether his mind was
coming up with nonseose.

"Need ... stimu:..la."  .  tion .  wake .  up "In his present
condlfion~ saying more still seemed to be too much effort.

"led, I can't hit you."

"Have... to .... " The urgency in his voice tore at her heart.  She
felt as if she had stumbled into a world where black and while had
somehow gotten reversed and she was being asked the unthinkable.

' Pain .  " The desperation in ed's voice made her pull back her arm
and drive her fist against his shoulder.  It wasn't much of a blow. She
simply couldn't make herself hit him with much force.  " Harder. "

"I'm sorry.-I can't."

His eyes searched hers.  "Then... other..."  She leaned forward, her
ear turned toward his lips to catch his whispered words.  "Other...
stim... u... la .... tion... wake... me... There was a long, pregnant
s'fience in the room.  " What should I do?  " Even as she asked, she
saw the way his gaze had focused on her lips.  He didn't have to spell
out what kind of stimulation could affect him as strongly as pain.  She
could figure that out for herself.  When she'd first come into the room
and knelt beside him, he'd been cold as ice and barely breathing.
Instinctively she'd started to stroke and touch him.  The physical
contact had made a tremendous difference.  He'd come back to life
enough to communicate with her.  Now' she had to bring him all the way
back.  If she couldn't hurt him, she'd have to please him.  With
intimacy.  Touching.  She couldn't meet his eyes.  Feeling as if a
giant knot were twisting in her middle, she raised her eyes to his.
Even a few days ago she might have suspected that he'd somehow rigged
this performance to see how far she would go.  Tonight she sensed how
much he needed her.  And the realization was like a power trip.

Moving around to the front of the chair, she.  came up on her knees so
that her mouth was level with his.  She felt his breath, felt his
tension as he waited for her kiss.

Like Sleep'rag Beauty, she thought.  Only in reverse.  Could she heal
him?  And perhaps herself?  With something so simple yet so profound as
a kiss?  For one dizzying moment she felt as paralyzed as he.  Then she
leaned forward and brushed her lips against his as if sealing her
fate--and his.

Marissa wasn't sure what she had antidpated.  In the back of her mind
she half expected that his arms would' suddenly snap up and trap her so
that any choice she had was taken away.  But his large hands remained
where they were, palms turned downward, fingers slightly curled, lying
on the arms of the chair.

She was testing the waters as she turned one of his hands over,
stroking his fingertips gently and then pressing her palm flat against
his.  When she felt a slight answering pressure, she let out the breath
she'd been holding.

"Don't... st9p... please:"

It gave her an unaccustomed feeling of potency to know that she could
bring him back to life.  With a sense of awe, she touched his cheek
with her fingertips, dragging them up and down, enjoying the way the
scratchy endings of his beard moved under her touch--astonished at how
much pleasure the simple contact gave her.

He didn't move, but his total attention was focused on her.  She kept
her gaze on him as she swept her hair over her shoulders and out of the
way.  She thought she could see the green of his ~ deepen when she
reached to stroke the arches of his brows, brushing the hairs in the
wrong direction and then smoothing them back into place.

He made a sound deep in his throat, a sound that urged her lips back to
his.

The first touch made her sigh.  She was quickly caught up in the
delight of rubbing her lips back and forth against his once more,
teasing him--and herself.  She'd never thought she'd have the nerve to
play with a man this way.  Certainly not this man.  Part of her was
overwhelmed.  Part was honest enough to admit how much she was enjoying
the heady sensation of power and pleasure.

She cupped Jed's face in her hands; then, with her tongue, she traced
the curve of his lips, feeling his shivering reaction all the way to
her toes.

"Do you like that?"  she asked in wonder, marveling that she could make
him tremble.

His answer was a rough growl.  For the first time since the contact had
begun, he moved, opening his mouth silently, asking her to deepen the
kiss.

"Jed."  She spoke his name against his lips, nibbling, tasting, testing
as she felt something hot and sensuous unfurl within her.  He wasn't
the only one coming alive.  Sensual feelings spiraled through her,
making her cry out.

The desire for more' was a force she was powerless to resist.  Her
tongue stroked the insides of his lips and along the edges of his
teeth, and she marvelled at the contrast of textures--velvety soft,
hard and rigid.  The exploration brought her to a new level of
sensuality.  But it wasn't enough.  Caught up in the heady sensations,
she wanted--needed--more.  She heard herself make a strangled little
sound as she sealed her mouth to his, swaying forward so that the upper
half of her body was pressed against him.

Marissa wasn't sure when Jed's tongue began to move against hers,
wasn't sure when his hands came up to stroke across her back and then
tangle in her hair.  She was so totally caught up in the encounter that
she didn't even know which of them had pulled the robe off her
shoulders so that only the thin barrier of her gown separated his
heated flesh from hers.  But one of them must

have dispatched the garment because she was suddenly vividly aware of
her breasts moving against his naked chest, her nipples tingling with
pleasure at the contact with his thatch of springy blond hair.

Tiny shudders of sensation racked her body, making her inner muscles
clench.  She hadn't known desire could Do this overwhelming, this
frantic, this insi~e~t.  Had she really denied herself this pleasure
for so long?

She was still kneeling on the floor in front of him, "Marci.  Honey."
He gathered her up in his arms, pulling her hair onto his lap.  She
sprawled across him, her middle' pressed to his.  He murmured
endearments as his lips nibbled a trail down her neck, then to the V
Dotween her breasts.

His hot tongue against her sensitized flesh made her gasp.  With his
face he nudged aside the top of her gown, his mouth moving back and
forth, tantali=ing first one breast and then the other.  When his'
mouth found one hardened nipple, she cried out and arched against him,
dazed by the pleasure of it.  And shocked to the core.  ,

Somewhere along the line the rules had changed.  She was no longer the
one in charge.  She was still hot and wanting.  But now a voice inside
her head was lnlking to her, warning her about the monster she'd
unleashed~

She thrust it aside, choosing to remain captive in the web of
sensuality that bound her toed.  She wanted him.  Wanted him to take
her where she'd been afraid to venture.  If she could only go ahead and
let that happen, it would work out all right.  She'd come this far. She
could go the rest of the way because it was ed who was kissing her and
touching her, and making her feel so needy.  But she didn't have to DO
frightened; she was safe with him.  Then he moved, holding her as he
lowered her backward.  All at once he was coming down heavily on top of
her on the rug.  She was trapped.  And the fear she'd been so sure she
had overcome came surging back in full force.

When she began to struggle, his hands held her so that she couldn't
move.  With a panicked sob she pushed against him.

"Jed.  No.  Please."

He was still weak.  And she was infused with the strength of near
hysteria.  Desperately she wiggled away.  When he reached for her
again, she managed to Ja~ep several inches of heated space separating
her body and his.

Her breath came in jagged LITTLE gasps.  So did his.

He looked confused.  "Marci, I thought you wanted

With shaking hands she pulled her bodice back into place.  Then she
found her robe where it had fallen on the floor, hauled it over her
shoulders and drew the front closed.  Pretending that the fabric could
protect her from what she was feeling.  Mortification.  Sexual
frustration.

She wanted to curl into a ball and hide her face from him.  She wanted
to run from the room.  Somehow she managed to stay there, facing him.

"What's wrong?"

"We can't.  You can't..."  She heard the turmo'fl in her own voice and
struggled for calm.  Her emotions were too raw for her to explain her
panic attack.

"Wrong.,"

"Jed ... a little while ago I thought you were dying.  That's how this
started.  You asked me to--to"

His face hardened.  "I see: You were on a mission of mercy, and it got
out of hand."

"No.  I mean" -- She ran a i/-rahbling hand through her hair, wondering
what to say.

He leaned back against the bottom of the armchair, drawing in large
drafts of air, and she knew he wasn't going to force himself on her.

Half guilty, half relieved, she continued.  "I was so frightened when
I came in and found you ~ that.  What happened to you?"

"You don't need to know."

She pinned him with her gaze, thankful for the change of subject.
"Don't I?  Jed, how do' you think I got into your room?"

"I" -- He stopped and looked toward the window as if he were dredging
up a distant memory.  "You came across from your balcony to mine," he
said slowly.  "The vines broke, and you fell.  You could have killed
yourself.

"You mean you saw me?  But you were just sitting there like a
statue."

His face was grim.  "I remember it--sort of like a dream, I couldn't
move."  As if in denial he flexed his arms.

"I thought you were in a coma or something.  I thought that you'd been
poisoned."

"I was."  His voice was low and raspy.  His eyes told her that he
wished he hadn't shared the information.

She felt goose bumps rise on her arms.  "By Sanchez?  Tonight?"

"No.  Years ago.  On an assignment in Royal Verde."  His voice sounded
like ground glass.

"" What.  what happened?  "

I'll ~ you about it when we have more time.  All you:!  need to know is
that you can't count on me in an emergency because I'm likely to go
tharn on you," he bitterly.  " You know what that means?  "

"Yes."  He'd used a word Richard Adams in Watership Down.  It referred
to the way his rabbit charactcrs froze in place when faced with
danger.

She scooted across the rug and took his hand.

not like that.  "

He grimaced.  "Oh, yeah?  I thought I just gave you a graphic
demonstration.  I was sitting in the chair watching you almost kill
yourself, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it, The stuff
that does it to me is still in my system," he snapped.  "It always will
he."

"I don't understand.  You were fine until tonight."

"Usually I'm normal.  But when I'm overtired and under a lot of stress,
my body reacts by shutting down," he said harshly, as if he were
revealing that he'd let himself become addicted to drugs.

She tried to get through to him with the steady pressure of her hand
over his, wishing he would turn his palm up.  But he seemed to be
simply enduring her touch.  "It's not your fault."

"But it's my problem.  It limits my ability to do my job."

"Is this thing why you had to quit the Peregrine Connection?"  she
blurted.

He snatched his hand away.  "How do you know about that?"

"You hear things."

"That's just great!  What else is grist for the rumor mill?"

"Nothing," Marissa managed.

Still, anger simmered in Jed's eyes as he looked away, and she wished
she hadn't asked the question.  Or maybe she'd done it on purpose, to
punish him because hekl made her lose control.  Only she knew the
accusation was a lie.  Losing control had been her problem.

"ed, I'm sorry," she whispered.  "I know"

"How I feel?"  he cut in.  "Were you really going to use that line?
Somehow I seriously doubt that you know how I feel."  Pushing himself
up, he swayed on unsteady legs.

She scrambled off the rug and reached a siva dying arm toward him, but
the mortification in his eyes made her ~ hand drop back to her side.

"I'll be okay in a minute."  After taking several deep breaths he made
his way to the window where he stood looking out into the night.

Marissa stared at his rigid shoulders, sharing more of his pain than he
could imagine.  V~rlth all her heart she wanl~el to go to him, comfort
him, And make amends for pnsbing him away when her passion had led him
to believe she wanted him, She especially wanted to make amends for
that.  She had wanted him.  Only she hadn't had the guts to go through
with it.  Because she was still fighting her own demons.

Would it make him feel better if he found out how closely she could
identify with him?  How much they were alike?  All at once she wanted
to tell him about the unspeakable thing that had happened to her.  For
the first time in years she was willing--no, anxious--to talk about
'her own worst nightmare.  No matter what the personal

Scrambling up, she crossed the space between them.  "Jed, I"

He turned, and she saw that he looked amazingly like his old self. "I'm
feeling a lot better."

"I see that."  She also saw that am ask had dropped over his face. He'd
hated admitting weakness to her, and he was dealing with it the only
way he could.

"Toook you for helping me."  He might have been than icing her for
helping him fix a flat tire for all the emotion he put into the
acknowledgment.

"I was frightened for you.  I wanted"

"To wake me up."

"It was a lot more than that."  She gulped.  Unless she explained what
had happened to her, she'd lost him.

However, he continued as if she hadn't spoken.  guess I should have
told you about my little infirmity before I asked you to marry me,
honey bee," be said tightly, his gaze sweeping the room before boring
into hers.

iteoecca forte

"Oh."  She realized with a start that she'd been so focused on herself
and Jed that she hadn't remembered the house rules.  There was always
the possibility that the room was bugged, and someone might be
listening very avidly to what they were saying.  She and Jed were
supposed to know each other intimately.  In fact, their lives might
depend on maintaining that fiction.

She was pretty sure he hadn't been thinking about their deception a few
moments ago.  But as he'd regained his strength, his mind had snapped
back into focus.

Her own thoughts raced over the minutes they'd just spent together,
trying to examine what they'd said from the point of view of someone
glued to a microphone.  It might sound as if, they weren't
communicating too well.  But at least neither of them had talked about
anything incriminating--with regard to the two big issues at stake, her
search of Sanchez's office and their bogus engagement.

And what about the way they'd abruptly broken off lovemaking?  She
flushed, but her thought processes churned on.  It was logical that she
might have stopped things because she was worried about Jed's health.
Logical, too, that he might not have shared every unpleasant episode
from his past.

From his point of view~ the worst part of the exchange was that he'd
told her an important secret about himself--something that threatened
his masculine ego.

Something he wouldn't want the general or anyone else to know.  In
return she'd nearly made a confession that would have handed El Jefe
the key he needed to break her.  Thank God Jed had stopped her.

"What are we going to do?"  she whispered.

He fixed her with a wry look.  "For starters, unwind in a nice hot
shower together."

"What?"  Marissa's voice cracked on the syllable.  Had she heard that
right?

"Now that I finally have you where I want you," he added, then slowly
and distinctly mouthed, "Where we can talk."  He watched her intently
to make sure she'd understood.  Reluctantly she nodded.  He was right.
The only way they were going to be sure they couldn't be overheard was
if some heavy background noise drowned out the sound of their voices.
But did it have to be a shower?  In desperation she looked around the
room.  If there had been a radio or a television set, she would have
turned it on full blast.  But neither device had been provided.

Jed started toward the bathroom, his steps a good bit surer than they
had been a few minutes ago.  Marissa stared at the broad expanse of his
naked back, profoundly relieved that he was feeling better, yet at the
same time nervous.  He was taking charge again whether she liked it or
not.

On legs that felt like someone else's limbs she followed, wondering
where she'd find the nerve to go through with what he was suggesting.

The bathroom was large and luxurious, but when Jed closed the door it
seemed to shrink to a tiny ~11.

Jed turned on the taps full force.  His next step would be to disrobe.
It was a sure bet that he wouldn't get in the shower with his pants
on.

Marissa clenched her hands at her sides and somehow kept herself from
backing out of the room.  If she'd only been smart enough not to get
caught in Sanchez's office in the first place.  But here they were in
enemy territory with very few options--and it was her fault.  Without
giving herself time to think about what she was doing, she snatched off
her robe and let it drop to the floor.

Jed pivoted back, towering over her, his eyes darkening as they swept
over her translucent gown.  When they lingered on her bodice, she felt
her nipples contract.

She swayed toward him, the flame ignited by their passion still glowing
inside her.  Then she stopped herself with a hand on the edge of the
sink.

He gave her a haft smile, slightly mocking, a little sad, mostly
reassuring.  "We both know there's unfinished business between us."

She moistened dry lips.  "Jed, I'm having trouble handling this."

He pitched his voice well below the sound ~f the pounding water.  "You
want me."

"We have to talk about us."

He sighed.  "When we get out of here.  Right now, you don't have to go
any further with this shower deal if you don't want to."

"What?"

He stepped closer and lifl~l her palm to his lips.  Transfixed, she
felt his gentle kiss.  Somehow it steadied her nerves.  She hadn't
thought he'd be capable of gentleness after what had happened.  But he
was full of surprises.  She knew she had only~ begun to learn what made
Jed Prentiss tick, and she wanted to find out more.

Taking her by the shoulder, he dipped his mouth near her ear.  "My
educated guess is that our friend doesn't have a video camera in here.
Just audio~ if that.  It ought to be as safe to talk like this as it is
under the rtlnni~lg water.  For a few minutes, anyway."

She swallowed hard, thankful that he was letting her off the hook.
"Thank you."

His next words made her head snap up.

"The first thing I have to know is if you trust me."

It was an honest question.  She gave him an honest answer.  "I wasn't
sure at first.  I thought you and Sanchez might have cooked up some
kind of deal to get me to talk."

"And now?"

"I know you're on my side."  When they got out of San Marcos there was
a lot more she planned to say.  But it would have to wait.

"That's something, anyway.  Because we've got to rely on each other to
get out of here."

They stripped the conversation to its bare essentials, a hurried
exchange of information in staccato bursts of speech.

"Was it your idea to pretend that we were engaged?"  she asked.

"Jason came up with the basic plan.  Abby refined it,"

"She would.  What happens now?"

"I was hoping Miguel would buy the distraught-fiance

act.  Now I'm not so sure.  Maybe Harara will help us.  " " He hates
American women.  " " He owes me a favor.  "

"What if he's afraid of Sanchez?"

Jed looked frusWamt.

"Maybe there's something we can use.  Or maybe it's too dangerous. When
I was in lgs office, I found something."

"Good."  His hands gripped her shoulders.

-It's hidden"-- Madssa stopped abruptly when she heard a noise in the
bedroom.

Jed cursed under his breath.  With instant awareness and lightning
speed he reached for Marissa and pulled her into his arms.  Lowering
his mouth to hers, he gave her a hard kiss that She knew would leave
her' lips reddened.

-Seconds later the door burst open, exposing them to hostile eyes.

Chapter Nine

Marissa clung to Jed for stability, gasping as his lips moved over hers
like a passionate lover with nothing more urgent on his mind than
making the most of a clandestine tryst.  However, there was no way she
could respond to him as her ears strained to catch the first words from
whoever had burst into the room.  She could only stand where she was,
holding on to Jed, and let him take charge of the performance.

"That's enough," a harsh voice commanded.

Taking his time, Jed slowly lifted his head and turned toward the
intruder in the doorway.

Miguel Sanchex Dared at them, his gaze flicking to Marissa's reddened
lips and then insinuatingly down the length of her gown.  "You know
this is against the rnlcs."

"Miguel, don't you think this moral mania of yours has gone far
enough?"  Jed asked mildly.  "Since when do you come barging in to your
guests' bedrooms?"

The general's eyes glittered dangerously as he regarded them.  It had
to be after two in the morning, but he was still wearing the dress
uniform he'd donned for dinner.  Now it was rumpled, and patchcs of
sweat showed under his arms.  "Bedrooms.  Separate bedrooms"

"See, I told you they were together."  The high-pitched female voice
in back of him stabbed through Marissa.  Craning her neck, she drew in
a startled breath as she caught sight of Clan'ta.  She blinked.  The
leenager was dolled up as if she were on her way to a nightclub.  Heavy
shadow set off her dark eyes, her lips were a red slash and her dress
was a low-cut gown that showed off too much of her creamy breasts.  Her
heavy perfume hung in the air, while she stood rubbing her hands as if
she were lathering them with soap.

"I said you couldn't trust the woman to follow your orders.  I said she
was out to make trouble.  But you never listen to me.  You!re one of
the ones against me.  Like her."  There were more accusations.
Clarita's words came out in a torrent like a fountain under sudden
pressure:

Marissa expected Sanchez to stop her quickly.  Instead he looked angry
and frustrated.

Marissa stared at Clarita, trying to take the whole thing in, trying to
reconcile the various impress ious she'd formed of the girl.  Her
behavior was erratic, hostile, unbalanced, Marissa realized.  For a
long moment Clarita stared back, her eyes glittering with a hysterical
light.  As quickly as the storm of words had risen, it subsided, and
quite suddenly she shrank against the wall, looking down at her feet.

Jed had angled his body' so that Marissa was slightly behind him.  When
he spoke, it was to Clarita.  "Little one, we mean you no harm~ Why are
you spying on us?"

She shook her dark hair so that it fell in soft waves over her
shoulders.  "To prove I was right.  And don't call me by baby names.
I'm hardly a child anymore."

"I see that," he muttered, as if he were having trouble relating this
person to the girl he used to know.  "But that i!il doesn't mean we
have to stop being friends."

"I thought we were," she snapped.  "Until I found out you were against
me."

"Now what in the name of the blessed virgin is going on?"  The question
came from the hallway.  They all turned toward the bedroom as Pedro
Harara, clad in a red silk robe, strode through the door.  Moments
later he was joined by the other three men who had arrived unexpectedly
that evening.  Johnson looked as if he'd hastily pulled on' his pants
and shirt.  Leandro and Rinaldo were in nightclothes.  But only Leandro
looked as if he'd actually been asleep.

There were several seconds of dead silence while the professor
nervously finger-combed his hair over his bald spot.

Then Sanchez laughed and held out his arm dismissively as if he'd been
interrupted scolding two naughty children.  "You know how it is when
visitors from a more permissive society come here.  They have trouble
conforming to our quaint, old-fashioned ways.  I've ex-phined the rules
to Jed and Marissa more than once.  In this house we set an example for
the youth of San Mar-cos.  Engaged couples must sleep in their own
rooms.  But these two keep finding' ingenious ways to get together."

"I know what you mean.  I had the same problem with my daughter,"
Rinaldo said.  "I was afraid she was going to disgrace the family name
with a tell-tale bulge at the front of her wedding dress."

"How did you handle it?"

He gave a little cough.  "Expediently.  I moved up the wedding date."

"Ah."  Sanchez's face took on a contemplative look.  "Now there's a
good idea," he murmured, his manner becoming expansive as the idea took
hold.  "If these lovebirds can wait one more night, we'll hold a
wedding ceremony here tomorrow.  Then I can stop playing due~ and get
back to more important business."

Marissa's mouth dropped open.  Had she heard him right?  "A...
wedding?"  she croaked.  "Yes.  It's short notice, but my people will
love the excuse for a fiesta."  Sanchez grew more animated as he got
down to the particulars.  "First thing in the morning VII contact the
village priest and the woman who sees to the bride's instruction.  We
have our own traditions here that go back centuries.  You'll find they
add to the sense of ceremony."

The more details he added, the more Marissa felt her throat constrict.
This wasn't happening.  This man wasn't planning her wedding and
intending to carry out the plans tomorrow.  Yet he was.  Somehow she
dredged up a coherent objection.  "We can't get married in San Mar-cos.
My... my sister has everything planned at home."

"I know Jed mentioned your friends back in Baltimore.  If they're
disappointed, you can have a second ceremony when you get back."
Sanchez grinned conspiratorially.  "You can even keep this one secret,
if you

Perhaps the general had more to say.  But Mariaaa heard nothing besides
the roaring in her ears.  Married to Jed.  Impossible.  If she'd
thought she'd be forced into this position, she would have-- What?  She
had no answer.  And she'd never felt less in control of her destiny.

She wanted to bolt from the room.  Perhaps Jed had read her mind
because he kept a hand on her shoulder.  His grip wasn't tight,
but-somehow it held her in place.  She felt as if she was going to pass
out.  Miraculously, she stayed on her feet.

For the second time that evening Jed must have helped her on with her
robe, because she found herself wearing it.  Dazed, she followed the
general back to her room, and moments later she was alone.  Without
regard to who might be looking, she sank onto the bed, cupped her face
in her hands and rocked back and forth, feeling sick and terrified. And
desperate.

"WHAT ri-m m~uI.~ You trying to pull?"  Jed growled as he strode into
Sanchez's office.  He'd stopped to put on a shirt and shoes that didn't
go with the tuxedo pants he was still wearing.  At least his bedroom
door hadn't been locked, undoubtedly because Miguel was trying to make
it look as if he and Marci were guests insl~ad of prisoners.  Thank God
for small favors.

"I'm convinced you care for Senorita Devereaux.  As much as rascals
like you or I can care for a woman," El ffefe answered.

"I don't need you to run my love lifeY

"It's a bit more than that, amigo."

Jed took a deep breath.  He was angry with himself and angry with
Sanchez.  But he'd better stop showing it.  This was the first private
conversation he'd had with the general since he'd charged onto the
field and snatched Marei from the firing squad.  Since then, Sanchez
had had a chance to think things through and decide how he was going to
proceed.  But he was also under pressure from the contingent who had
arrived this evening.  "Why don't you fill me in?"  he asked, hoping
his elevated heart rate didn't filter into his voice.  Sanchez shrugged
and spread his hands in a palms-up gesture.  "We keep coming back to
the basic fact that your fiancde got herself invited to a reception at
my house, then slipped out and stole into my office.  I have no way of
knowing if her story about the door being tm-locked is true--or if she
broke in.  Nor do I know what she might have tampered with before the
guard found her."  '

"She didn't tamper with anything!"  Jed retorted, his voice imbued with
righteous indignation.

"How can you be sure?"  Sanchez drawled.  "How do I know you weren't
exchanging information instead of kisses a little while ago?"

"You saw what we were doing."

Sanchez gave him a considering look.  "I saw what you wanted me to see.
I noticed you were running the shower so no one could hear what you
were saying."

"Wouldn't you, under the circumstances?  But you're determined to put
your own interpretation on everything we do,"

"On the contrary, I'm doing my utmost to get the two of you out of San
Marcos without looking like I'm going soft."

"I'm listening."

"Why do you think Harara and the others came charging out here
tonight?"

"I can make some educated guesses about your political advisers.  I
don't know how Johnson fits into the picture."

"I don't owe you an explanation.  But I'll give you the executive
summary.  Johnson is an arms dealer.  What we're negotiating is
perfectly legal.  However, he's giving me a very special price, and he
wants to make certain that the details of the transaction stay private
so other clients don't start demanding the same terms."

"All right, I'll buy that," Jed replied.  "But I suspect your
compatriots have more official motives.  They found out you were
holding Marci, and they want to make sure you don't do anything that
will jeopardize relations with the U.S."

"That's a fair assessment of Rinaldo's position," " Sanchez conceded. "
He grew up grubbing for and he thinks your six million dollars for
economic velopment is a good deal.  Leandro is here to monitor the
situation for President Palmeriz, although he's pretending he has my
best interests at heart.  Harara wants me to get rid of Senorita
Devereaux to make sure national security hasn't been breached.  "

"You're lying."

"Of course he'll deny it, if you ask."

"So what do Marci and I have to do, storm your arsenal and shoot our
way out of here?"

Smiling, the general shook his head.  "Nothing so drastic, old friend.
Calm down and think this through like a male chauvinist citizen of San
Marcos.  Rinaldo gave me the idea.  But he's right.  Remember how
things work down here."

Jed listened intently.  ,

"I wasn't lying when I said this is a country with old-fashioned
values.  Including our attitude toward the fair sex.  Women here don't
have equal status.  Very few dress up in suits and high heels and go to
the office.  A good wife stays home and obeys her husband.  And if he
orders her to keep her mouth shut about confidential government
information she might have seen, she does what he says."

Jed's eyes narrowed as he spoke slowly.  "~You're saying our getting
married will satisfy your requirements?  That once Marci and I tie the
knot, she's safe.  And we can go home."

"Yes," Sanchez replied.  "You can leave the day after the ceremony,
when I know you've consummated the marriage."

"It's that simple?"

"There's one other stipulation."

"Which is?"  ed asked cautiously.

Sanchez paused a moment, and the intensity of his dark, speculative
gaze made Jed want to lower his eyes.  Ingrained training and long
years of experience kept him from moving, but it couldn't keep sweat
from forming in the palms of his hands.

"We were friends once," Sanchez began.  His tone, full of warmth and
sentiment, made Jed even more nervous.  What did the old devil want?
"Maybe we're not exactly simpdtico anymore," the general continued.
"But I still know you're a man of honor.  So I want you to give me

your word that my prival~ business stays private.  In other words, you
guarantee that if your wife did see something she shouldn't that she'll
keep it between the two of yOU.  "

"You trust me to do that?"  At least Miguel hadn't asked for proof that
it was going to be a real wedding night.  ed didn't honestly know if he
could insure that.

The general's gaze was slmdy.  "It's either trust you or kill you."

"I appreciate the frankness--and the vote of confi " I must have your
word of honored had come downstairs ready to promise the moon if that
was what it would take to get Marci out of here.  Yet he executed a
quick mental tap dance before he answered.  If Sanchez were an
honorable man, he'd have to deal with him honorably.  But he knew of
too many occasions when the general had broken his solemn oath.  Still,
Jed would do his best to keep Marci quiet--unless she'd found something
that was too monstrous to suppress.  "I give you my word that your
private business remains private," Jed replied.

The general pulled a small knife from his drawer.  "Do you remember the
solemn blood ceremony we used to use in the old days when the men
graduated from boot camp?  I think that would be a fitting way to seal
our bargain.  With a mingling of blood.  Give me your handed felt a
knot twist in !gs stomach.  " I didn't do it then.  I can't do it now. 
"

Sanchez looked up sharply.  "You can't validate your oath?"

Jed swallowed hard.  For a second time tonight he was going to have to
reveal the weakness that had made a shambles of his career.  "I have a
sickness in my blood."

The knife jumped in Sanchez's hand.  "Dios.  You're not HIV
positive?"

"Not that.  It's something else.  A very exotic tropical disease I
picked up in the Caribbean," he explained, telling Miguel a small part
of the truth.  "Apparently there's no cure.  The pattern is like
malaria.  The symptoms come back to me from time to time."

El Jefe looked at him specuhtiveiy.  "What are they?"

Jed kept his gaze steady.  "Worse than gout.  But leave me a bit of
dignity."

"I'm sorry.  It's hard for someone like you or me to admit any
weakness."

"I've learned to live with it."

"Is it the reason you started thinking about marriage?"

Jed shrugged.  "Maybe I'm tired of being alone--of not having anyone
who's there for me."  He hadn't been sure what he was going to say, but
he realized he'd come pretty close to the truth.

"I think I have a better understanding of your behavior."  Sanchez held
out his hand.  "We'll shake on the deal."

They clasped hands.  "

"Thank you," Jed said with genuine-feeling.  "Marci means a lot to me."
Again he silently acknowledged how true that was and how much he wished
that things were different, that the two of them really could make a
life together.

But he couldn't worry about the future now.  Although Sanchez had made
him an offer he couldn't refuse, he knew the man too well to simply
relax and take their bargain at face value.  For all he knew, Miguel's
current decision, to trust him could turn into tomorrow's decision to
kill him.

THE BIRDS SINGING in the foliage outside her window woke Marissa.  She
hadn't planned to sleep.  In fact, she'd lain in the dark making wild,
impractical plans toes cape.  At one point she'd wondered if braving
the dggs was better than braving her wedding night.  But sometime in
the early-morning hours fatigue had overcome her, and she'd dozed off.
Now it must be about six-thirty, the time when the birds began their
raucous chorus, she thought as she threw off the covers with a shaky
hand and crossed to the window.  The morning was misty, but the haze
would burn off.  It would be a beautiful day for a wedding.

Oh, God.  Once again the sick, trapped feeling threatened to sweep away
reason.  Crossing to the closet, she yanked' out a dress the staff had
moved from the other room.  As she was pulling down the skirt, there
was a knock on the door.  Witchout waiting for an invitation, Anna
fluttered in.

"Good, you're already up.  I heard they gave you this beautiful room,"
she gushed, talking a mile a minute as she went about straightening the
bed.  "Everybody's excited about the wedding and the fiesta.  But
there's so much to do.  It's lucLT we were working on a wedding gown
for Carmelita.  But she's not getting married for two weeks, so we'll
have time to finish another one for her."  So it wasn't all a
nightmare.  It was real.

"And you have to go and see Madre Flora right after breakfast."  Anna
flushed.

"Mother Flora?"

"$t.  We have our own ways here, traditions that go back before the
Spanish arrived.  Madre Flora is in charge of the women's marriage
instruction and the special rituals before the vows."  She giggled.  "I
went to her when I got mar fled last year, and she told me so many
things~ It made all the difference with Carlo--when he" -- She broke
off, blushing again, "But I think you already know about... about what
to expect on your wedding night."

Marissa sucked in a sharp breath.

Anna was in too much of a dither to notice.  "This is 'so exciting. The
last woman from the city who got married here was El $efe's wife. And I
was only a little girl, so I don't remember much.  But people still
talk about it."

Marissa was only half listening to the excited prat He "I want to see
my fiance."  Jed would get her out of this.  He had to!

Anna shook her head.  "Don't you women from the city know anything?
It's bad luck to see him before the ceremony on your wedding day."

Marissa ducked into the bathroom.  She tried to focus on salvation as
she washed her face and brushed her teeth.  But it was hard to keep
from dissolving in a pool of tears.

For ten years she'd made sure she was in control of her life.  But in a
few short, horrifying days she'd been rendered totally helpless.
Totally at the mercy of events that were rushing forward, carrying her
along.  It was like being on a rudderless ship speeding down a
fast-flowing river.  And coming from around the next bend, she could
hear the roar of a tremendous waterfall.  No way to stop the boat from
plunging over.  Impossible to dispel the growing fear that she would be
destroyed by the rocks below.

But she couldn't simply bail out.  Not and leave Jed on board.  Which
was why she urgently needed to talk to him.  If she did marry him, he'd
have to know She chopped off the thought with a bone-deep shudder.  As
she stepped out into the hall, she looked toward Jed's door.  It was
closed, and she wondered if he could possibly be sleeping.

"This way," Anna urged.

Marissa res'l.  ~ted for a moment.  Then it occurred to her that Jed
might already be downstairs, so she hurried after the maid.  But when
she arrived on the patio she didn't find him.

Her eyes flicked toward the doorway on the other side of the open
space.  Perhaps she would have boll~xl if a guard hadn't been standing
in the shadows.  Resigned, she looked around and spotted two of last
night's visitors, Rinaldo and Harara.  They were walking toward a
lavish buffet set along one wall, but they stopped in midstride' and
looked at her with undisguised interest.  Rinaldo, at least, seemed to
be in a good mood, as if he heartily approved of the day's events.
Harara couldn't hide his disdain.

The amicable one waved her a greeting.  "Did you sleep well?"

Marissa made a tremendous effort to pull herself together.  She might
be half-sick with worry, but she wasn't going to let them see she was
anything more than a nervous bride.  She flashed a rueful smile.  "It's
a LITTLE hard to sleep when you're so excited.  And the change of plans
is a bit unnerving."

"Well, you'll be glad you did it.  If a man and a woman are in love,
then they should get married.  And you've got perfect weather for a
wedding," Rinaldo continued, unaware that every word he spoke was
making her cringe.

Harara turned to the table and began filling his plate with chun~ of
melon.  "Let's hope you have sense enough to listen to your husband,"
he muttered.  "What?"

Before he could elaborate, a high-pitched shriek rang out from
somewhere above them.

Marissa froze.  So did the two other guests on the patio.  In contrast,
the servants went about their business as if nothing out of the
ordinary had occurred,

The wail came again--from somewhere on the second floor across from
Marissa's room.  The sound choked off in mid cry as if a hand had
clamped over an open mouth.

Marissa craned her neck toward the windows, trying to determine the
exact location of the sound.  "Does someone need help?"  she asked the
uniformed attendant who was straightening up the buffet.

"The women will take care of it."

"Of what?"

"A man was hurt this morning out in the fields.  His wife is one of the
maids, and I think she must have learned of the accident," he said.

It struck Marissa that there was something odd about the explanation,
as if the servant had memorized it, as if he'd already repeated it, maw
times before.  She studied his face, but he didn't meet her eyes.

"I hope we haven't disturbed your wedding-day breakfast," he said,
looking genuinely distressed.  "Can Ihelp you fill a plate?"

Marissa glanced once more toward the second floor, almost certain that
something wasn't right.  But in this house she was also sure there was
nothing she could do.

Snatching 8 plate, she pivoted toward the buffet.  The men stepped
aside as she approached the table, and she stared at the sumptuous
spread, wondering what would go down past the lump in her throat.
Coffee?  Dry toast?  Melon?  The scrambled eggs and the quezadillas
would be impossible, but she took some anyway for appearance's sake.

Once seated, she took small sips of coffee and nibbled on a dry roll,
but she did LITTLE more than push the rest of her meal around ~the
plate.

It was almost a relief when Anna returned with a middleaged woman and
came directly to her table.

"It's normal to be nervous on your wedding day," Anna declared as-she
eyed Marissa's almost untouched breakfast.  "It's time for your
appointment."

Marissa could see the men at the nearby table listening and exchanging
grins--as if they knew something she didn't.

Anna gave them a sideways look.  "There's a lot to do to get ready.
Rosita and I will take you."

"Oh."  Marissa pushed back her chair and tried to look confident.

As they exited, Rosita walked in front of Marissa.  Anna was directly
in the back so that they formed a little parade.  She felt as if she
was a prisoner again and that all the men, guests and staff alike, were
watching the procession with interest.

The soldiers were a bit more subtle in their scrutiny, but she felt
them following her down the hall with their eyes.  After she and the
two women passed one group of sentries, Marissa thought she heard a
low-pitched exchange of.  suggestive ~eaiarks.  She felt the back of
her neck heat, but she kept her eyes forward.  No one stopped her and
her escorts when they left through a door in' the rear of the
hacienda.

As they moved away from the buildings that made up the compound,
Marissa felt her nerves jump.  She was being led off into an isolalnd
area of the jungle.  For all she knew this could he a plot of Sanchez's
that Jed knew nothing about.  She slowed her s~ps.  "Where are we go
Rosita turned and gave her a look that was half stern, half
compassionate.  " You come from far away, but you must honor our
customs while you are here.  Anna told you about the wedding
instructions all of our women receive.  This is a solemn occasion.  Do
not speak again.  You should approach Madre Flora with reverence.  And
she will decide whether the wedding will proceed.  " " You mean"-- "
Silence.  "

Marissa nodded tightly.  It sounded as if this was some kind of test.
Mayhe, if she flunked, she could get out of marrying Jed.  Her heart
started to race.  Was it really that simple?  Did the wise woman of the
village have the power to decide that the match wasn't suitable?

The escorts kept walking at a brisk pace.  Soon they were in the cool
shade of towering trees and giant ferns where shafts of light filtered
through the leaves.  Above her, parrots called out, and a family of
spider monkeys chattered as if they resented the human intrusion.  The
trail was narrow but well-worn, and it seemed to lead ]V[arissa into
another, more primitive world.  She knew instinctively that hundreds
of.  women before her had taken this same path on their wedding days.
This journey ~tight he new to her, but it was steeped in tradition.

Torn between nervousness and awe, she wanted to ask more questions. But
she was sum she wouldn't get any answers from her guides.

They crossed over a fast-running stream on a wooden bridge with carved
female statues like sentries on the front posts.  Marissa wanted to
stop and have a better look, but the women urged her on, past mahogany
trees and Spanish cedars, the group's progress heralded by the drumming
of a red-crested woodpecker.

Beyond the bridge the trail widened.  After what seemed like at least a
half-mile tramp through the forest, Rosita stopped by a giant kapok
tree whose massive gray green trunk and branches were decorated with
brain eli-ads and trailing pink orchids.  Breaking off one of the
orchids, she turned to Marissa and tucked it into the hair over her
ear.  "There.  Madre Flora likes it when a bride approaches her with a
flower in her hair.  Since you don't know the custom, I've done it for
you."

"Umm," was all Marissa could manage through suddenly parched lips.

The woman took her arm and led her around a curve in the trail where
she found herself facing an ancient-looking wall made of massive stones
covered with green

moss.  There was a doorway to one side, its shape that of.  the
flattened corbel arch the Mayans had used.

She hadn't had any idea there were Mayan ruins on Sanchez's fin ca But
she was sure he wouldn't advertise the fact, since he wouldn't want
archaeologists mucking about on his property and getting in the way of
his military exercises.  On the other hand, as she looked at the wall,
she decided that ruin wasn't exactly the right word.  This construction
was in better shape than the site the american team was excavating down
the road.

A macaw screeched in a nearby tree and took flight.  The woman gestured
toward the archway.  "You must go in alone."

With her mouth so dry she felt she might never swallow again, Marissa
shuffled forward.  Caught and held by a sense of unreality, she hardly
dared to imagine what was on the other side of the wall.  When she
stepped through the doorway, she had to stop and give her eyes time to
adjust from the filUmxi light of the jungle to bls=ing sun.  She was in
a large paved courtyard bounded on one side by a truncated pyramid, its
steps climbing to a flat platform just below the tops of the tallest
trees.  Around the other sides of the courtyard were low buildings made
of the same stone as the wall and topped with thatched roofs.

Carefully tended beds of flowers and shrubs bordered the walls, and
Marissa had the strange fantasy that if she closed her eyes and opened
them again she might find the place bustling.  with dozens of women in
an dent Mayan costume.

The plaza was completely silent.  Yet she sensed that she wasn't alone.
A thatched, open-air structure on her far right gave protection from
the tropical sun.  As she peered into the shadows she saw that someone
was sitting on a low stone bench cushioned with colorful native rags.

The figure raised a hand, beckoning her to come forward.  She wanted to
turn and run.  Instead a greater force drew her farther into the plaza,
as if a string were attached to the middle of her chest, pulling her
forward.  When she stepped under the canopy she found herself facing a
tiny woman who she guessed had to be the fabled Madre Flora.  At first
glance the old woman hardly looked impressive.  Her shoulders were
hunched, and the hands clasped in her lap resembled dry sticks.  Her
white hair was braided and piled on her head, and the brown skin of her
face was as wrinkled and cracked as a dry creek bed.

She gestured to a pillow at her feet.  "Sit with me, hija.  We will get
to know each other a little."

Marissa sat, feeling the scratchy fabric against her legs.  Pulling her
skirt close, she clasped her hands over her knees to keep them from
trembling.  For what seemed like minutes, she and the old woman
regarded each other.  Madssa saw wisdom and contentment in her black
eyes and years of hard living in her face.  She swallowed painfully,
wondering what her own countenance revealed.  Amazingly, she felt her
panic subsiding under the old woman's steady gaze.  Simply sitting with
Madre Flora was having a calming effect on her, almost as if those
black eyes had put her under a spell.

"Thank you for honoring me with this visit," the madre finally said in
Spanish.

"I don't think I had a choice," Marissa answered in the same
language.

"There are always choices in this life, hija."

"Not when El Jefe holds power over you," Marissa answered with a little
shake of her head.  Immediately she wondered if it was wise to say
something so revealing.

The old woman peered at her, the look in her eyes he-coming almost
amused.  "You are worried someone might be listening."

"None would dare.  Not even E/Jefe.  What passes between us will stay
private.  As for choices, you made the decision that brought you to his
fin ca

Marissa shrugged and looked toward one of the flower beds.  What was
the use of trying to explain about working for the U. S. State Depa,
hnent to an Indian woman who had lived all her life in this place?  "

"Why did you ask me here?"

"To help you discover the truth.  Do you love this man you are to take
as sposo--as a husband?"  Madre Flora asked suddenly.

Caught completely off guard, Marissa blurted, "I truly don't know.  I
wish..."  She wasn't able to finish the sentence.  Did sli~ wish she
loved ed?  Could she admit that to herself?  Or did she wish he had
made some kind of unspoken commilment to her?  Would that make her feel
safe with him tonight?

"The women say you have already been intimate with him."

"That's a lie!"

"Ay.  But you know something of his lovemaking."

"I know that when' he kisses me and touches me, it feds ... wonderful.
I didn't'know being with a man could be... ilkethat," she admitted with
awe in her voice.  She felt heat spread across her cheeks as she
realized how much she'd revealed.  She hadn't thought the interview
would start like this.  She hadn't dreamed she'd feel
compelled-driven-to confront the very issues she'd been avoiding for so
long.

The old woman's face was unreadable.  Marissa wanted to look away, to
hide her raw emotions.  But she couldn't; she was held captive by the
madre's wise, assessing gaze.

"Slowly we are getting at the truth," Madre Flora said.  "Are we?"

"Mmm.  I sense your fear, hija.  You are afraid of allowing him to be
close to you."

Marissa swallowed.

"You're not sure you want to marry this man.  But you've learned that
you are drawn to him--sexually.  You have admitted that much to
yourself."

Marissa gave the barest nod.

"A man and a woman giving each other pleasure in their marriage bed is
one of the great joys of this life," the old woman continued.  "Things
go more smoothly when the bride knows what to expect on her wedding
night.  Do I need to tell you how it is done--the joining of the
flesh?"

Marissa flushed more deeply and shook her head.  There were several
moments of silence.  "Making love is an important part of marriage, but
there is much more to linking your destiny with a man's.  Each of you
has obligatio~ to the other.  What are the qualities that make Jed
Prentiss a good husband in your eyes?"

Marissa thought about Jed and smiled.  "He goes after what he
wants--and usually gets it.  He's intimidating.  Very strong."  She
swallowed and went on.  "But down deep he's a good man.  He has a code
of honor.  He's shown me he cares about me.  He's trusted me with
knowing his secret weakness.  And I don't think he would hurt me," she
added.  She hadn't realized she knew so much about Jed.  But it was all
true.

"Those are good things.  But will he provide a good living for you and
the children you have together?  Will he make a good father?"

Marissa had barely thought beyond tonight.  But she didn't have to
struggle for an answer to the question.  "I can provide my own living.
I've done that for years."

"A good father is important to a child's success in life."

"That's not essential," Marissa argued.  "If the child is strong she
can overcome her home life."

"You are more independent than the women from the village.  That is
good and bad for you."

Marissa hesitated, then admitted, "I've had to be independent.  I've
learned to take care of myself."

"I can see that.  And more.  You have been hurt in the past."

Marissa's head jerked up.

"By two men, I think.  Your father and another."

"How ... how do you know that?"

"By what you told me about your home," Madre Flora said, her voice
gentle.  "By your fear of intimacy-and of strong men."

Silence settled over the sunlit courtyard.  Marissa struggled to draw
in a steady breath.  Her father.  and Lowell Dougan.  She'd avoided
even thinking his name for years.  He was just a shadow.  The man in
her past who had hurt her.  But in Madre Flora's presence, hiding
anything, even from oneself, she was learning, was impossible.  "I
didn, t tell you any of that."  Marissa spoke defensively.

The old woman smiled kindly.  "When a woman comes to me for this talk,
she gives~ away a great deal.  by the way she answers my questions. And
even more--by the things she chooses not to say.  You have come a long
way by yourself in this life.  You have proven you have great strength.
But I think you are ready to take the risk of giving your love and
your trust toed Prentiss."

Marissa realized her hands were clasped in a death grip.  "I want to,"
she whispered, hearing the truth in her own voice.  "But I don't know
if I can."

The old woman laid a gnarled hand on Marissa's shoulder.  "Have faith
in yourself and in Jed Prentiss.  He is very different from the other
one."

"I know that," Marissa answered.  "But it's so hard to let myself be...
vulnerable."

Madre Flora nodded.  "The gods have been kind to you in this.  They
have sent him to you at the right time.  You are ready for him--for
love--if you let yourself be."

More than anything, Marissa wanted to believe the old sage.  She'd
thought that submitting to this outlandish interview might be a way of
get ling out of the marriage ceremony, that Madre Flora would issue a
flat even Sanchez couldn't ignore.  But things had changed as they'd
sat here talking.  Her hopes and fears had crystallized.  And she knew
she was stronger than she imagined.  What if somehow it could actually
work out with Jed?  What if theirs could be a real marriage?  She'd
been attracted to him for years, but she'd never dared to imagine
anything as awesome--or as final--as marriage.  Yet what if Madre Flora
was right?

Suddenly, almost mystically, as if conjured by the madre from whatever
magic lingered here in this ancient hallowed place, a spark of hope
flowed to life in her heart.

Hope.  It was a feeling she hadn't experienced in a long, long time.

As Jed automatically lifted his coffee cup and took a sip, his thoughts
were entirely of Mariaaa.  She'd looked so damn frightened last night.
Was playing at marriage with him for a couple of days really such an
awful prospect?

He'd planned to find out if she was still so upset this morning.  But
the servant Miguel had assigned to him had kept him in his room
inspecting the clothes he was going to wear at the ceremony, and he'd
finally realized he was being delayed on purpose.  Probably so that the
bride and groom wouldn't meet at breakfast, he decided.

When he'd come out onto the patio she was nowhere about.  But Thomas
Leandro and William Johnson had been deep in conversation, the arms
dealer's Texas twang con Wasting strangely with the professor's
cultured Latin American accent.  He'd thought about trying to start a
casual conversation designed to shake them down for information.  Then
Pedro Harara had pulled up a chair, and Jed's anger had soared.  That
little pip-squeak was the one who wanted Marci out of the way.  Jed had
wanted to drag the bastard out of the room, shove his shoulders against
a wall and make him understand the flaws in his logic.  But strong-arm
tactics weren't exactly appropriate behavior for a man on his wedding
day, And there was always the possibility that Sanchez had lied about
the

man's motives.  So Jed had clamped his hands around his cup and
eavesdropped with distaste as Harara had started expounding on his
favorite topic--international finance, a subject he could stick with
for hours.  Amusement and relief had broken through Jed's anger as he'd
watched the listeners' eyes glaze over.  Harara might have his
opinions, but as far as political influence went, he was lower than the
spots on a snake's ass, thank God.

Shifting his chair so he had a LITTLE pdvaey, Jed tried to swallow some
breakfast while he thought about the strange turn events had taken
since he'd arrived at the hadenda.

Was Miguel going to produce a marriage license before the ceremony?
Were he and Marei really going to be saying their vows in front of a
crowd of people?  And then what?  It wasn't forever, of course.  They
might be marrying in haste, but they'd have plenty of leisure to undo
the damage when they got home.

Yet that still left their wedding night.  Maybe he should tell his
bride that Miguel wasn't going to let her off the estate unless he was
sure they'd consummated the marriage.

He smiled, enjoying the prospect.  It wasn't as if they were starting
from scratch.  They'd gotten to know each other quite well last night.
She'd revived him pretty quickly with her comforting LITTLE kisses and
her hands stroking his body.  After that it had taken all his willpower
to sit quietly in that chair and let her turn up the heat.  When he'd
finally gone from passive enjoyment to active partidpation, he'd felt
her passion rise.  It was only after he'd gone into overdrive and
pushed her down on the rug that she'd frozen up on him.

He thought about that.  And about the way she'd been responding to
him--up to a certain point.  Then, in his mind's eye, he saw the mask
of fear that had shrouded her face when he'd started to lose control
and get aggressive.

As he remembered the haunted look in her eyes and the way she'd
struggled from his grasp, his fingers clenched the fork he was holding.
Damn.  Why hadn't he figured it out before?  The signs were there for
anyone with half a brain to read.  Anyone sensitive enough to
understand what was going on.  Some creep had gotten rough with her in
the past.  He'd bet his life on it.  Now she was afraid of letting
herself be defenseless again.  That's why she'd kept herself so aloof.
Not because she was cold.  But because she was scared.

How scared, he wondered.  How rough had the nameless bastard been with
her?  lied grimaced, unwilling to follow that line of reasoning to its
logical conclusion.  He'd rather think about the kind of approach that
would make her feel comfortable.  They might not be making lifetime
vows to each other at the ceremony, but he cared about her.  And she
was attracted to him.  Hell, it was more than that.  She cared, too. Or
she wouldn't have come swinging across from her balcony to his, like
Tarzan's mate, when she thought he needed help.  Then she would have
done a better job of socking him instead of choosing the other
alternative.  But she was the one who'd made the decision to fight ice
with fire.

He swallowed a frustrated sigh.  Too bad they weren't going to get off
to a very promising start this evening.  If he remembered his backwoods
San Marcos customs, the two of them were going to be teased
unmercifully by a dnmken crowd and locked in a bedroom together.  He'd
done it to other guys when he'd been training Miguel's troops, never
dreaming it would happen to him.  The prospect was a little daunting.
On the other hand, it did have its upside, he admitted as he stretched
out his legs under the table.  Marci would be clinging to him for
protection.  Comfort would naturally lead to mutual enjoyment.  And
they'd both end up having a wonderful time while he showed her how
rewarding making love could be.

From the corner of his eye he saw Johnson slide him a glance and then
fiddle with his Stetson and look away when he saw he'd been caught.

Funny, he'd have thought Leandro--the San Marcos native--would be the
one with the anticipatory glint in his eye.  But maybe over their eggs
and quesadillas the professor had filled in the arms merchant on the
local customs.

Brisk footsteps made him look to see who had entered the patio.  It was
Sanchez.

He looked pleased with himself as he approached the table.  "You've got
a beautiful day for a wedding."

"The ancient gods must be smiling on me.  By the way, what time is the
ceremony?"

"At six.  Followed by what you'll doubtless think is an endless wedding
supper.  Then you're spending the night at that little cottage I use
for guests when the main house is full.  Nice and private."

"Yeah."

El .  lefe grinned and pitched his voice low so that the other guests
couldn't hear.  "Come with me.  I want to show you something."

"What?"

"You'll love it.  But I can't explain until we're alone."  Jed
followed, wondering if Sanchez was going to let him test the springs on
the wedding bed.  Or maybe he had a two-hundred-dollar bottle of
champagne he'd been saving for a special occasion?

"What's the big mystery?"  he asked as they walked through the hall
toward the back of the hadenda.

"Something quite special."  El .  lefe paused by the guardhouse and
picked up a machete.  "You know how women are.  They think they can
keep secrets from their lords and masters.  But we've got the drop on
them."  He led ~led out the back door of the main house and down a path
that disappeared into the jungle.

"According to my sentries, the women came and got the bride about an
hour and a half ago.  I figure it ought to be about time for the good
part," E/Jefe said in a raspy whisper.  "Come on.  But keep your voice
down."

Before they reached the trees, Miguel angled off to the right.  Several
hundred yards farther on he paused for a moment and then selected an
entrance into the underbrush, where he hacked away at several branches
that were partially blocking the path.  led followed and found himself
on a narrow, barely discerm~le trail.  He cocked his' head to one side
and looked inquiringly at El .  lefe.  "Are you going to come clean
with me?"

"Come clean.  That's good!  The local customs here go back before the
Spsnish conquest--to ancient times when the Indians worshiped pagan
gods.  The women have some very interesting rituals to get the bride
r/ady for the groom."

"Oh?"

"You can have a nice view of the PrOceedings.  It's one of the special
pleasures of getting married out here in the boonies.  But if you're
too much of a pmde, you can skip the fun and have a siesta."  '

~Ied's mouth was suddenly dry.  "Suppose I take you up on the offer?"

His friend slapped him on the shoulder and handed over the machete.  "I
thought you'd be interested.  With a LITTLE hacking you'll be able to
follow this Wail.  In about half a mile you'll come to the wall of an
ancient Mayan temple.  (~o around it to the side where there's a steep
hill.  It's actually the back of a pyramid.  If you climb it and go
into the enclosed platform on top, you can see down into the ritual
baths."

T~num WOM~ CLAO in short halter dresses and heavy gold necklaces and
earrings came out of the building at the back of the courtyard. Marissa
had never seen any of' them before.  In fact, she had the strange
sensation that they could have stepped directly from an illustration
carved into the temple wall.

"Come," one of them said.

"But"

"There is nothing to fear, Here we serve the ancient ways.  We must
prepare you for your bridegroom in the manner handed down from mother
to daughter through the centuries.  The rituals will fill you with joy
and anticipation for your marriage."

Before Marissa could protest further, they surrounded her and led her
toward the building.  The doorway looked dark and forbidding, and she
would have held back if she could.  But they pressed her relenflessly
forward.  When she stepped inside, she found it was pleasantly
illuminated by shafts of bright light slanting at intervals through the
thatched roof.  She was aware of Madre Flora somewhere in back of her,
silent, watching.

"Oh!"  As her eyes adjusted to the light she saw that the walls were
paint~!  with vibrant murals.  Some were jungle scenes.  Others
depicted the interiors of stone buildings richly decorated with plush
draperies, soft mats and comfortable pillows.

Marissa flushed when she.  realized that among the greenery and opulent
cushions were naked men and women kissing, touching, making love. "What
is this place?"

"The temple of the women," one of them murmured as if that explained
everything.

A heavy, perfumed scent hung in the air, and Marissa saw smoke wafting
from a metal burner at the s/de of the room.  The women led her toward
it.

"No, waitI" No one answered.  Ins~d they pressed on her shoulders,
gently forcing her to kneel with her face in the choking smoke.

Panic seized Marissa.  She held her breath as long as she could, trying
to struggle away from the hands that clamped her in place.  But she
couldn't get away.  Finally she was forced to take a breath.

She heard someone chanting words in a language she couldn't understand
and the tones of strange musical in-stmments coming from another group
of costumed women in the corner of the room.  The ones at her side kept
her kneeling before the burner, and it was impossible not to draw more
and more of the heavy incense into her lungs.

Gradually her senses merged with the music and the chanted words
swirling around her.  She felt transporUxl to another time, another
place, where all the civilized conventions of her world had not yet
been invented, and ancient gods held sway.  Her eyes would no longer
keep their focus, and she rocked back on her knees.

"Good.  You are ready to go on," Madre Flora pronounced.

The other women helped her up, supporting her languid body.

"What are you doing to me?"  She'd thought she'd shoul~l the question.
Yet no one acted as if they'd heard her.

Hands were on her clothing, lifting her dress over her head.  Then her
underwear was efficiently stripped from her body so that she stood
before them naked as the day she was born.

J~D MADE mS WAY along the trail, stopping every few feet to hack at
some plant that had grown up in his path.  One thing about the jungle,
the greenery grew so fast it required constant effort to keep a trail
open.  He kept his ears tuned to his surroundings and his eyes on the
underbrush, alert for hidden dangers from men or wildlife.

On the face of it, this was a pretty crazy thing to be doing.  Yet
Miguel had intrigued him with his allusions to ancient traditions. What
were the women do' rag Pmcricing fertility rituals?  Anointing the
bride with aphrodisiac herbs?  As he hacked his way past another
ironwood seedling, guilt nagged at the back of his mind.  Whatever was
going on this morning, he shouldn't be spying on Marci.  But the
invitation was simply too ~empting to resist--and a lot more appealing
than sitting around the hacienda biting his nails until the ceremony.
Besides, hadn't Miguel told him that all the grooms did it?  Why should
he deny himself the privilege just because he was a visitor?

However, he was beginning to wonder if his host was playing a practical
joke on him when he finally saw the wall of the ~emple Miguel had
spoken about.  Hands on hips, he surveyed the massive barrier.  He'd
been to the fin ca dozens of times when he was training troops, and he
hadn't known this place existed.  If you hadn't heard about ruins
buried in the jungle, you certainly wouldn't realize you were looking
at a pyramid, he decided as he looked up at the hill rising at a st~-p
angle from the jungle floor.  It was covered with everything from vines
and ferns to small trees.

The place re, minded him of Tikal, the ancient Mayan site he'd visited
in Guatemala where a highly sophisticated civilization had flourished
While Europe was in the Dark Ages.  Abandoned and swallowed completely
by the fast-growing tropical vegetation, the city wasn't rediscovered
until the mid-eighteen hundreds.  Archaeologists had uncovered a number
of the temples, but sometimes they restored only the front or the top,
leaving the rest as they'd found it.  Like this one, Jed thought, where
all he could see was the covered platform at the crown.

He reached for a convenient root and pulled him.  ~elf up, bracing his
foot as he stretched for the next handhold.  It was a hard climb.  He
hoped Miguel wasn't putting him on, and that it was going to be worth
the effort.  Finally he reached the stone platform beneath the treetops
and he stopped for a few minutes to catch his breath.

In front of him was a small building about eight feet square,
overshadowed by the tops of the trees.  Stepping inside, he shaded his
eyes from the sun.  Probably the structure had once been topped by a
roof, but it had long since disappearS.

Narrow windows slashed through the wall opposite the door.  Making his
way across, he peered downward.  To the left and right, the view was
obscured by trees.  Directly in front of him was a cleared area with
what looked like a wide circular well in the center.  What he saw about
thirty feet below him made the air whoosh out of his lungs.

~"You Am~ VI~RY BEA~.  You will please your husband with your body,"
one of the women murmured in Spanish as she spread Marissa's hair like
a curtain of gold around her shoulders.

Marissa wasn't capable of framing an answer.  The smoke had taken the
edge off her panic and pulled her into the rhythm of the pagan
celemony.  She'd lost all will to resist.  When her three attendants
led her up a flight of sl~ps in the back of the building, she
followed.

They were all chanting softly and rhythmically in a language she didn't
understand, their voices rising and falling with the music that
followed them into a sunlit courtyard slightly smaller than the one
where she'd talked with Madre Flora.

They helped her over a low, circular stone wall, and she gasped as she
sl~pped into the cold water up to her knees.

It raised goose bumps on her arms and made her nipples tighten to hard
pebbles.

Still singing the primitive melody, the women scooped the water up in
clay pitchers decoral~xt with more pictures of men and women together
and began to pour the water over her shoulders.  She closed her eyes as
she felt it cascade over her breasts and hips and belly.  It was easy
to imagine Jed's fingers on her body in place of the water-caressing
her in all the places that longed for his attentions.  D'unly in the
corner of he~ mind that was still in touch with her modern
sensibilities she wondered if the heat of her body was raising the
temperature of the water.

FOR LONG MOMENTS at a time Jed forgot how to breathe as he watched
Marci standing in the tub, naked and beautiful and regal as any Mayan
princess who'd ever lived.  She was like those royal women of centuries
past who had stood in the sacred pool below, the sun cascading down
over her, drenching her body in gold.

He'd never dreamed he'd see such a gorgeous sight.  He looked at the
hair falling around her shoulders like spun gold and longed to run his
greedy fingers through the riches.  Her eyes were shut.  Her face
radiated a strange, almost mystical expression that held him for long
moments.  Then his enraptured gaze moved a few inches lower to her
beautifully rounded breasts, their erect nip-pies an enchanting deep
coral color.

His fingers flexed as he thought about what it would be like to cup her
softness and then stroke those hardened tips until she moaned with
pleasure.  He could almost feel her twisting against him, begging for
his mouth to take the place of his hands.  In his most private
fantasies he had never imagined anything so erotic--Marci standing
there in all her glory, eyes closed, skin glowing pink as water sluiced
down her body.

His own body fighiened painfully, and ~his fingers clamped onto the
window ledge in a death grip.  If he didn't look away, he was in danger
of going off like a rocket.  Still, he was powerless to resist the
sight of his bride--and at that moment he reveled in thinking of her in
those terms--as she was prepared for their wedding.  Prepared for him.
His chest rose and fell rapidly in unconscious rhythm with hers as he
took in every precious detail, following the rivulets of water
downward, watching them trace the indentation of her waist and slide
lower, weaving through the curly triangle of hair at the top of her
legs and then down her rounded thighs.

The women chanted as they worked, and Marissa swayed slightly to the
sound, making him ache to come crashing down there and snatch her away.
One of the attendants began to wash her long golden hair, and she threw
her head back so that her breasts thrust upward, toward him, as if she
were offering herself to his hands.

He stifled a groan.  At that moment another one of the peasant women
looked up, her gaze focusing unerringly on the narrow windows where he
hid.  Instinctively he jumped back, wondering if he'd made a noise that
could be heard in the courtyard.  But he knew he'd swallowed the groan
and that it was unlikely the women would hear anything besides their
own chanting.

When he cautiously looked again, the curious one had 'switched her
attention back to Mard.  But the woman had known he was there; ~Ied was
certain of it.  Suddenly, in the sort of intuitive flash that had often
saved his life, he saw the truth.  This whole thing was a setup.  And
he'd better figure out why he was there.

He wrenched himself away from the seductive view, feeling as if he were
going against an elemental force that tugged at every cell in his body.
Drawing in a shuddering breath, he struggled to pull his mind back to
sanity.

He commanded his brain to work.  Commanded himself to think the
situation through.  Okay, so what did it mean that the women knew he
had come to watch this erotic little ceremony?  Maybe they always knew
they were putting on a performance for the men, and it gave them a
secret sense of power.  He could understand that--particularly in a
sodety where the women made very few of the rules.  But how did that
apply to him, personally?  Since he and Mard were both outsiders.

He felt the hair at the back of his neck prickle.  What if Sanchez was
taking advantage of a tantaliz/ng local custom to make sure the
bridegroom was fully occupied for a couple of hours?  While the
general-- While he what?

Jed's thoughts spun back to the previous evening's conversation.  Last
night Sanchez had said he had to either trust him or kill him.  And
he'd jumped at the offer of El $efe's help.  He'd wanted to believe
that the general was going to come through for him.  Perhaps because
they'd once been friends.

He'd like to argue himself into sticking with that comforting scenario.
But now he realized he'd let himself be lulled into a dangerous
assumption.

If only for his own peace of mind, he'd better find out what was
happening back at the ranch.  More to the point, from this moment on,
he'd better start acting as if he were a moving target.  Ducking low,
he retraced his s~ps across the enclosure and descen~ as quickly as he
coulc~.

When he got to the bottom he paused to survey the immediate area,
wishing he was armed with a gun instead of a machete.  Then he started
up the overgrown trail at a cautious trot, his eyes still scanning the
underbrush while his mind raced.

He tried to recall' everything he'd learned about Miguel Sanchez's
tactics when he was on the attack.  Basically the general had two modes
of operation.  When he was sure he could get away with it, he was quick
and ruthless.  A prime example was the way he'd marched Marci in front
of the firing squad.  On the other hand, if too many witnesses were
present, he reverted to elegantly subtle plans that placed the blame
squarely on someone else--like opposition terrorists.  He never put
himself in unnecessary danger.  Which meant he wasn't going to send an
assassination team with machine guns into the wedding chapel or the
reception area.

So where would the smart money place their bets, Jed wondered.  It
didn't take long to figure out.

His face-hardened.  The honeymoon cottage Miguel had mentioned.  It was
perfect.  He and Marel would he alone.  No one else would he around to
get hurt--or to witness the murders.  Afterward, there would he a
thorough investigation.  A suspect would be identified and probably
shot as he was being arrested.

The more he thought about it the more certain he was.  Because another
key facet of Miguel's twisted personality shone through clearly in the
plan.  E/Jefe was going to give his friend a last glorious night with
his bride before he blew him away.

~led made it to the edge of the trees in fifteen minutes and stood
staring at the expanse of sunlit field ahead.  Every nerve in his body
screamed for him to cross the open space at a dead run.  But he knew a
casual stroll would look a lot less as though he'd cottoned on to
Mignel's plans.

He used the enforced five-minute walk to mentally review what he knew
about the layout of the finca~ The barracks for the soldiers, garages
for their vehicles and armory were separaUxi from the general's house,
although there was a small ready room where the troops assigned to the
complex could relax.  On the way to the ruins he'd noticed, not far
from the hacienda, some newer structures that had gone up since he'd
been here last.  Sanchez wouldn't store ammunition so close to his
living quarters.  But what did he consider important enough to keep
within sight of his office?

Sneaking a look would be a good idea, Jed decided.  But it wasn't his
top priority.  First on his list was a visit to the ready room.
Switching directions, he headed for the small facility.

As he sauntered inside, he saw four bored guards slouched in front of
an oscillating fan waiting for their turn at the sentry stations.  When
they saw him, they snapped into models of military posture.

"At ease," he said in Spanish.

They looked doubtful, and he gestured toward the chairs.  "Sit back
down.  Please.  I came to ask some ad-vice-man to man."

The corporal raised an inquiring eyebrow.  He'd been at the fin ca when
Jed had visited before, and they knew each other slightly.

"About a suitable gesture of respect for the troops and the villagers
on my wedding day."

That got the/r at~nfion.

He leaned comfortably against the cabinet near the door.  Extra
sidearms were stored inside--unless Miguel had made some changes.  "I'd
like to buy drlnl/x for everyone.  As much as they want."

All four faces grinned back at him.  "You'd earn our eternal gratitude,
Senor Prentiss," one of the men said.

"So what's the beverage of choice?"  He knew that both potent dark rum
and beer were produced in the province.  "Come on, help me out.  I'm
serious.  I want your advice.  This is the only wedding I'm ever going
to have, and I'd like to do things right."

"Beer would be fine," a corporal answered.  "But" -- "But we'd rather
have rum," a young recruit allowed.

"Sure thing," Jed agreed.  "Get some of both.  Is there somewhere on
the fines where I can swing the deal?"

"We'd be Find to take care of it for you," the corporal offered.

"I'd be grateful."  He got out his wallet and peeled off the equivalent
of three hund mi dollars--about twenty bills--knowing that would buy a
beck of a lot of joy juice.  In fact, there would be enough cash left
over to split among these guys, and no one could accuse Sedor Pnmths of
giving them a bribe.

He laid the money on the ed~ of the dssk, then cursed as the breeze
from the fan picked it up and scatm'ed it like dry leaves in a
hurdcane~ While the men scrambled to retrieve the flying bills, he
reached into the gun cabinet and wrapped his tinge~ arm rod the handle
of a service revolver.  It was under his shirt and in the wahtband of
his trousers before they had finished picking up the loot.

He shook his head in disgust.  "Sorry, this wedding thing has got me
pulling all kinds of dumb stunts."

problem, Senor Prentiss.  I understand how it is when you He the knot.
"

Jed took a step farther into the room, cleared his throat and lowered
his voice.  "Look, like I said I'm, uh, a little nervous about tonight,
you know.  I don't want to screw up, if you get my drift."

"$/," the corporal answered.

The others nodded knowingly, some struggling to repress srins.

"I've been to weddings down here, so I realize there's going to be a
lot of rowdy stuff go' rag on until we're alone.  Maybe even
afterward."

"My bride's never seen anything like it.  I think it's going to make
her pretty nervous.  So once we're alone together, I'd like to keep it
that way.  Could you do me a favor and make sure no one comes around to
rattle the windows or set off a firecracker once we're in bed?"

"You've got it."

"Thanks.  Just until midnight.  Things ought to calm down by then."

Jed left, then looked up in surprise as the corporal followed him out
and accompanied him down the path.  Damn.  This was a bell of a time to
pick up an escort.

They were about twenty-five yards from the guardhouse when the corporal
glanced around and cleared his throat.  "Perhaps I should keep my mouth
shut, but I like you, and you were generous with used felt a stab of
guilt.  He'd been expedient.  " There's something else you should know.
If you want a piece of advice.  "

Jed swung toward him.  "Shoot."

The man looked uncomfortable.  "Clarita could make trouble for you
tonight."

The warning didn't come as a complete surprise.  In fact, it fit right
in with the girl's recent hostility toward him and Marci.  "When she
was younger, we used to be friends," Jed said cautiously.  "Now she's
doing all kinds of crazy stuff.  It looks like she's jealous of
Marci."

"Crazy stuff.  51.  She's not playing with a full deck.  And El Sere
doesn't want to believe anything's wrong with her.  So he just lets it
continue, and everybody has to pretend nothing strange is going on.
Like that screaming fit of hers this morning when one of the women was
helping her pick out a dress for-the ceremony.  You heard it?"

Jed nodded.  He'd used the word crazy because he hadn't known how else
to put it.  The corporal was telling him that the girl was mentally
unbalanced--and everyone on the fin ca talked about it behind her
father's back.  The revelation explained a lot, he realized as he
thought back over the girl's behavior.  It also saddened him.

"It's been going on for about a year," the corporal continued.  "She
seemed to change overnight.  She can be dangerous if she takes a
dislike to you.  Like last night when that tarantula turned up in your
fianede's bed.  Everybody's betting it was her."

ed swore under his breath.  "I appreciate your .clueing me in."

"Don't tell El lefe you heard anything from me."

"Of course not.  But she needs help."

"It's safer not to get involved."  The man finished and quickly
returned the way he'd come.

Jed mulled over the new information.  Clarita was a loose cannon.  But
she wasn't his most preying problem.  When he was well out of sight of
prying eyes, he ducked under the branches of a dale palm and checked
his weapon.  Well, now be knew he had six bullets.

~ For an unguarded moment he thought about slipping into Miguel's
office, ~p~dling the piece and tskinE El Jefe hostage.  The plan had a
lot of macho appeal.  But there were too many unknowns to try anything
so brazen.  In-eluding his own ability to stay on his feet for the
hours required to get them off the fin ca and onto an airplane out of
this damned country~ He grimaced.  Suppose in the middle of the hostage
scene he had an attack and' conked out the way he had yesterday
evening?  So much for macho appeal.

Marci was another problem.  His insides clenched when he pictured her
standing in that tub.  She'd looked sexy as hell, but she'd also looked
pretty spacey.  Chances were good she'd been given some native drug.
Which made sense, because he couldn't imagine her holding still for
that little bathing ceremony o~.  He'd have to wait until she was hack
in commission and at his side before he risked any power plays.

Once more he affected a casual stroll as he crossed the grounds in back
of the hadenda.  The closer he got to the guest bungalow, the more
convinced he was that he'd guessed right about Miguel's plans.  The
place was isolated.  And it was also away from the main flow of
activity.  Perfect for a honeymoon couple who wanl~d to be alone.  And
with a wild party in full swing at the big house, nobody would discover
that the newlyweds had been knocked off by invading lerrorists until
the next day when they didn't appear for lunch.

He was about to pull open the door of the cottage when a noise from
inside warned him to retreat.  He wasn't a moment too soon.  As he slid
around the side of the building, the door opened and a man slepped into
the sunli hto

"Son of a bitched muttered under his breath.

William Johnson stood on the brick steps, a satisfied smirk' on his
long face and what looked like a small toolbox swinging from his right
hand.  He glanced around to see if anyone had noted his departure from
the cottage.  Satisfied that he was alone, he tipped his Stetson to a
jaunty angle and headed off at a brisk walk toward the hacienda.

As the Texan departed, Jed followed the toolbox with narrowed eyes.
Somehow he doubted that the man had been fixing a leaky toilet.  His
first impulse was to jab his recently acquired pistol into the middle
of Johnson's back and make him talk.  But then he might not get the
straight dope on what he and Miguel were up to.  Instead he stayed
where he was until he was satisfied that the man wasn't coming back.
His face was impassive, but his heart was slamming against the inside
of his chest when he finally slipped through the front door and stood
waiting for his eyes to adjust to the interior light.

The two-room bungalow was as plush as the quarters where he'd slept
last night, with a few additional lavish touches, like an
executive-size hot tub in an orchid-filled greenhouse off the bathroom,
and a fully stocked bar in the sitting area.  Just perfect for a quiet
honeymoon.  So what little marital aid had the arms dealer added to the
premises?

MARISSA nestled down more comfortably into the soft environment
surrounding her.  It was warm and billowy.  The most luxurious spot
she'd ever slept in, and her unconscious mind translallxl it into
another place.  In preparation for her wedding, she'd been bathed and
perfumed and dressed in a loo~ fitting robe.  Now she was with Jed in a
wondeduRy plush, wide bed.  They were snuggled together kissing,
touching--making, each other happy, with the .  l~rfect freedom she'd
craved for so long.

- What had she been so afraid of?  Making love with ed was everything
she'd longed for it to be.  Sweet and sensual and thrilling.  Except
that outside someone was operating mining equipment, and the low buzz
of machinery kept intruding on her sense of privacy.

She tried to press her ears into the pillows to blot out the annoying
intrusion.  But the sound wouldn't go away.  As she woke up and the
dream let go of her mind, she realized that what she was hearing was
the low murmur of women's voices.  Had they followed her and Jed to the
bedroom?

Mafissa stirred restlessly.  No.  She was still in the temple where
they'd brought her right after breakfast.  Making love with Jed was
only a dream.

Disappointment surged through her.  Dreaming of Jed was warm and
satisfying--and safe.  Reality was still

Her eyelids fluttered, but she didn't fully open them.  Her mind was
still fuzzy from the drug they'd made her breathe.  Knowing she was
slow on the uptake, she gave herself a few moments to orient herself.
Then suddenly something the women said caught her attention.

They were speaking in low, idiomatic Spanish that was almost too quick
for her to understand in her present muzzy state.  But she marshaled
her atlention to grasp the flow of words.  They'd mentioned a name, but
she'd raig~:d it, and she sensed it was important.  Lying very still,
she strained~ to figure out who they were discussing so avidly.  It had
to be a man.

"Come on, how do you know so much about him, Bonita?"

"Can you keep a secret?"

"I swear it."

"Well, El lefe sent me to his bed the last time he was here."

The other woman sue10ed in a sharp breath.  "I had heard of such things
at the hacieilda.  My husband would never allow that."

So much for the general's moral code, Marissa thought.  It sounded as
if he only invol~!  it for his convenience.

Bonita made a clicking sound with her tongue.  "My husband thinks
E/Sere will give him a soft job if he leo ds out his wife to important
visitors."

"How was it?"  The question was asked with a mixture of envy and
distaste.  "Are the gringos good 1ov " Well, Carmen, the truth is, he
was too fast.  " Carmen laughed.

"That's one secret he'd want me to keep.  The other is that he's not a
gringo."

"Un rnomento.  I thought he was from Texas."  Marissa's
half-functioning mind scrambled to process that revelation.  Texas.  It
took a minute for her fogged brain to figure out that they were t~!
king about William Johnson.

"That's just a story he tells, like the one about supplying guns for
the troops," Bonita explained airily.  "So nobody knows he came to
bring the special mining equipment."

Marissa strained her ears.  She'd had no idea what Johnson did.  Guns?
Mining equipment?  They must have mentioned it earlier in the
conversation.  That's why she'd put raining equipment into her dream.

And it fit in with something that had happened earlier--Sanchez's odd
reaction when Jed had offered to arrange a government loan to develop
the copper raincs in Junipero Province.  Did he already have Johnson
for a private backer?  More to the point, did they have some kind of
illegal deal to keep the proceeds out of the government coffers?

"That fake Texan is a powerful man.  Sometimes I think El Sere is
worried about what he's going to do."

"El lefe has powerl Everyone is afraid of him," Carmen protested.

"Here on thefmca, yes.  And in Santa Isabella."

Marissa sat up as she strained to hear the conversation better.

The women turned to her.  They were part of the trio who had bathed
her.  The third was no longer there.  "We didn't know you were
awake."

Marissa stretched and shook her head.  The cobwebs were clearing. "What
was that smoke you made me breathe?"

"It comes from a special plant we use for sacred ceremonies.  It helps
you relax.  Don't you feel wonderful now?"

She nodded a fraction.  She wouldn't have taken the drug if she'd been
offered a choice, and she felt the edge of anger at being forced.  But
she kept it in check.

"Who were you talking about just now?"  she asked.  Bonita looked like
a schoolgirl who'd been caught smoking in the bathroom by one of the
nuns.  "Oh, that's not important."

"It's Senor Johnson, isn't it?"

Bonita flushed.

"He's a mining engineer?"

"I'm sorry we woke you up.  We shouldn't have been talking," Carmen
said quickly.

"I won't tell anyone if you give me a little information."

Carmen shot Bonita an angry look.  "See, you've gotten us in trouble
with your big mouth,"

"You were the one asking all the questions!"

"It's all right," Marissa interjec~.  ,. ed.  "I promise I won't get
you in trouble.  But my... fiance has been working as a mining engineer
since he left the military," she improvised.  "He was hoping to work
with El.lefe on a project in Junipero Province."

"That's where Senor Johnson goes when he comes here," Carmen answered.
"I know because my brother is one of the pilots who ~es him."

"So perhaps it would be better for my fiance if he developed a project
elsewhere in San Marcos," Marissa murmured.

"You'll be his wife soon," Bonita answered.  "Really, it's time to
start getting ready for the wedding ceremony."

Marissa felt her stomach knot.  She'd been happy to think about
something besides the wedding.  "I didn't know it was so late."

"Madre Flora said to let you sleep until four.  But now we have to
hurry and do up your hair so you can get

Marissa swung her legs over the side of the low bed.  She expected to
be light-headed when she stood.  In fact, she felt so wonderfully
refreshed that it was hard to focus on any of the things that should be
worrying her.

The woman went behind a screen in the corner of the room and brought
out a lacy white gown with a high waist, a modest neckline and a
flowing skirt.

Marissa unconsciously touched her tongue to her dry lips as her fingers
stroked the beautiful fabric.  Her wed-cling dress.  It Was really
going to happen.  If she'd said the right things this morning, she
could have convinced Madre Flora that the ceremony should be canceled.
But deep in her heart, Marissa admitted, she wanted to go ahead with
it.  Conviction, however, did not entirely prevent her insides from
quaking.

As s~-m STEPPED into the sunlight, Marissa clasped her bouquet of
pink-tinged orchids in a death grip.  It was the only way she could
keep her hands from trembling.  Blood pounded in her ears so that she
could hardly hear what was going on around her.  The sound of an organ
playing the "Wedding March" seemed to come from far away.  Masses of
flowers decorated the patio.  A sea of faces turned expectantly toward
her.  They seemed to swim in her vision.  But she saw the pairs of
armed sentries well enough, standing at attention at each entrance.  An
honor guard?  Or insurance against the bride escaping?

Swaying on unsteady legs, she scanned the crowd for the one man who
mattered.  Jed.  She needed to see him waiting for her at the altar.
Then she caught a glimpse of him and felt some of the terrible knot
inside her loosen.  He was standing next to Sanchez, in front of the
priest, looking devastatingly handsome in a white dinner jacket. Behind
them were the high-ranking officers from the fmca, the men who had
arrived yesterday, Rinaldo, Leandro, Harara and Johnson, and at least
fifty other dignitaries.  Leandro smiled at her, and Rinaldo nodded. 
Harara looked as if he were

trying to put the best face possible on a bad situation.  Clarita was
over to one side, her expression blank.

~ Marissaviewed the scene ~ someone trembling at the edge of a fantasy.
How else could she explain.  the gauntlet stretching in front of her?
It might he made of flow-era and people ~ in party clothes, but it had
been created to lint her courage.  She swallowed hard and took a step
forward and then another, slowly closing the distance between her and
Jed--trying to focus on him and only him.

The expreasion on his face, as she drew near enough to see him clearly,
made her heart skip a beat, then ~ to pound so hard it felt as though
it would break through the wall of her chest.  He was looking at her as
if she were the center of his universe.  Never, in her wildest
imaginings had she pictured a man ever looking at her like that.

Her chest tightened painfully as she came down the aisle toward him.
She wished with all !  ~r heart that this was real--a real wedding that
marked the begi~'nning of a real marriage.  Wished that he'd chosen to
take her for his wife, not that he'd been' coerced into it.

Yet even as Marissa acknowledged that heartfelt longing, she knew a
wedding between her and ~Ied would have been impossible under normal
circumstances.  They were here only because she'd been caught in
Sanchez's office.  And Jed had volunteered to rescue her by pretending
to

Did he tntly care what happened to her?  Or was she simply an
assignment?

Her heart lurched inside her chest.  Then she thought about the way
'he'd been with her since he'd arrived.  He'd kissed her ~ a man who
cared.  He'd broken down a door to get to her when he thought she was
in trouble.  He had to feel something stronger than duty.  ~

What would happen tonight?  Their wedding night.  Did she have the guts
to make it into something real?  Amoment in time she could cherish long
after this sham of a marriage had ended.

Marissa felt light-headed by the time she reached Jed's side.  He gave
her a confidential smile.  She managed the ghost of a smile in return,
and suddenly.  things came a little better into focus.

Someone lifted the bouquet from her hands.  Some~ one folded back her
veil.  Then she felt Jed's strong fingers close around hers.

"You look beautiful," he whispered huskily.

"So do you."

His soft laugh zinged along her nerve endings.  "Nobody ever said that
to me before."

She didn't dare look at him again.  She simply stood clutching his hand
and listening to the priest's words of welcome to the wedding guests,
then his lit tie speech about the solemn obligations and
responsibilities of marriage.

As she listened, another emotion bubbled up inside her.  Oh, Crod,
could she really go through with a religious ceremony?  Until this
moment she hadn't considered the idea of exchanging holy vows of love
and commitment--on making sacred prom~nes that were supposed to last
"until death do you part."

For a panicked moment Marissa wanted to turn and run.  She kept herself
standing in front of the crowd of onlookers by pressing her shoulder to
Jed's arm.  Somehow she made the right responses.  Thank heaven she
managed to kneel and stand again without getting her legs tangled in
her dress.  And when Anna produced a ring at the right moment and pr
eased it into her hand, she didn't drop it.

The priest's voice and Jed's reassuring presence beside her carried her
along.  But she was so dazed that she didn't realize the ceremony was
over until Jed turned her gently toward him and covered her lips with
his.

The kiss was as sweet and sentimental as a lacy valentine.

"Mrs.  Prentiss.  At last," he murmured as he' lifted his head and
looked down at her.

His eyes were a clear sea green.  And she knew that whatever happened
later, she would remember the look in them until her dying day.

"Congratulations to both of you," Sanchez said.  Jed turned, and
Marissa saw tension knot the muscles in his shoulders.  Then he grinned
and stuck out his hand.  The two men shook.

She and Jed moved to the other end of the patio and stood under a
canopy made by one of the balconies.  A line formed, and well-wishers
came to them, smiling and offering congratulations.  Marissa knew very
few of them, which added to her sense of unreality.

It was a relief to greet Professor Leandro.  "See, it's all for the
best," he said as he kissed her soundly on the cheek.  Sl~pping back,
he brushed several strands of wispy hair out of his face.  "You get a
wonderful wedding reception at the general's expense."

"Next in line was William Johnson.  The man who was supposed to be from
Texas kissed her, holding her too tightly and sliding his lips from her
cheek to her mouth.  She pushed away, remembering the things she now
knew about him that she needed to ~ Jed.  But this was hardly the
moment.

Her new husband gave the man an angry look.  "Don't take liberties with
the bride."

"Just a friendly buss, old son."  Johnson strolled away.  For a moment
Jed's eyes drilled into his shoulder blades.  Then he pulled his
aCamtion back to the next well wisher

A band began to play a lively folk tune.  Marissa saw waiters
circulating around the patio with trays of champagne fluids.  It was
twilight, and colored lanterns were switched on overhead, casting a
magical glow over the patio.

Back to fantasyland again, Marissa thought.  This was a wedding
reception.  Her wedding reeeption!  She had to keep reminding herself
of that.

The band leader doffed his sombrero and urged Senor and Senora Prentiss
to honor them with the first dance.  As if he'd done it a hundred times
before, Jed took her in his arms and began to lead her around the area
that had been cleared for a dance floor.

They'd taken only a few steps when the sound of multiple explosions
made her go rigid.  Seconds la~r she tried to drag Jed off the patio
and into the protection of the building.

"Easy."  He 'held his ground and grasped her forearms.

"Somebody's shooting.  Get.down," she gasped, even as she wondered why
the crowd around them was laughing instead of running for cover.

"No.  It's just some of the villagers setting off firecrackers.  They
love an excuse to let off steam.  Let's hope they keep the pyrotechnics
outside."

She nodded and made an effort to relax.  He knew the customs here.  She
didn't.  But then, she'd been at a disadvantage from the start.

Somewhere off to her left she heard a high-pitched, uncontrollable
spasm of giggles.  Without looking she knew who it was.  Clarita.

Out of the corner of her eye She watched Sanchez advance swiftly on his
daughter.  Taking her by the arm, he ushered her off the patio and into
the house.

Jed watched them leave with a sad expression on his face.  Then he
pulled Marissa back into his arms and settled his cheek against her
hair.  "You're doing great," he murmured.

She moved her mouth next to-his ear.  "I found out some things this
afternoon."

He turned his face, as if kissing her cheek.  "Me, too."  She caught a
mingled anger and frustration in his voice.  Then he gave a little
shrug, telling her that there was nothing they could do right now
besides go with the flow.  When he pulled her closer, she sighed and
closed her eyes.  He was right' they were stuck in this crowd until
custom dictated they could escape.

She held on to him, letting him guide her around the floor in a slow
dance, his legs brushing hers sensually with every step.  She knew
scores of eyes were avidly watching the bride and groom take their
first dance as man and wife.  And it was best to look as if they were
totally wrapped up in each other, she ratiovali~:l as she let the
enjoyment of being close to Jed blot out her uncertainties and then the
people around them.

The moment she stopped trying to keep tight control over her mind, the
dreamlike thoughts she'd had in the bath came back to her.  Jed's hands
moving erotically over her naked skin, heating her from the outside in.
Was the drug she'd breathed still lingering in her system ma affecting
her?  Feeling light-headed, she pressed her face into his shoulder.  He
pulled her closer, the heat of his body enveloping her, his hand moving
up and down her back, playing with the column of tiny buttons that held
her dress closed!  She knew he was turned on, too.  His lips brushed
the hair at her temple.  He murmured something low and sexy that made
her wish the wedding guests would all vanish.

She didn't realize the music had Stopped until a chorus of wolf
whistles brought her back to reality.

The general was grinning as he moved to the center of the floor.  "I
hate to interrupt you lovebirds, but it's time for dinner."

Everyone except her and Jed laughed uproariously.

Blushing hotly, Marissa and Jed followed Sanchez into a ballroom filled
with beautifully set tables.  Huge ar-nmgements of tropical flowers
formed the centerpieces.  Around the walls, trellises of bougainvillea
turned the room into an outdoor bower.  For the first time it occurred
to her that this reception must be costing the general a fortune.

"This is lovely.  But how did you arrange it on such short notice?" she
marveled.

"I'd move heaven and earth for you, my dear.  You know that.  I've had
my people working all night," he answered with a grand gesture, as if
the sentiment were real and the expense were nothing to him~ Mayhe it
was, if he had an illegal source of income, Madssa mused.

She and Jed were seated in the center of a long table near the wall,
with the honored guests on either side of them.  But not Clarita.
Apparently Sanchez had banished his daughter from the festivities.

It was strange to sit there watching people eating and drinking and
enjoying themselves, Madssa reflected several hours later.  Her own
stomach was so fled in knots that she could do little more than
politely taste the food.

She was married to Jed.  All during dinner he'd kept touching her and
drawing her close, and she'd felt 'the erotic surge building between
them like a power plant on overload.  Later that night they were going
to be alone in a room together.  And, as her husband, he'd have the
right to do anything he wanted to her body.

She stole a glance at him where~ he stood, hughing and joking at the
bar with several of the guards.  He seemed to be having a much better
time than she was.  Whenever someone ashed her to dance, he went over
to have a drink

He came back to her walking unsleadily with a glazed look in his eyes.
She shuddered as the realization hit her that he was getting drank.
She'd planned that when they got to the honeymoon cottage they could
sit down quietly and talk.  That she could tell him why she was afraid
of intimacy and why she needed him to take things slowly with her.  But
what if he was too out of control to listen?  Would he just go
aheadMarissa's skin turned cold as Jed sat down and draped

"You'd think things would start to wind down soon," he mutm~.

"Jed, please don't drink any more."

"Aw, honey bee, don't spoil my fun."

William John.  son approached the table, and Jed's smile faded.  The
Texan had also been imbibing sleadily throughout the evening.  His face
was flushed, and his lips quirked info a leer as he saw the groom check
his watch, something he'd been doing all evening.

"It's getting late.  Already one o'clock.  I gue~ you're anxious to
spirit the bride to your honeymoon cottage."

Mariaaa sensed Jed's sudden tension.  Johnson had made him angry in the
receiving line.  Now he was rubbing him the wrong way again. Under the
table she latched onto her husband's hand.  and squeezed it hard,
hoping she could have some effect on his behavior.  The last thing she
wanted was a scene.

Just then the clock in the hall began to strike--twelve bongs in all.

"I guess you're wrong about the time," she said lighay.

The Texan appeared puzzled, then he cursed under his breath.  "I'forgot
it's an hour later in Santa Isabella."

That was true, Mariaaa recalled for the first time since she'd arrived
at the fin ca They were far enough west to be on the other side of a
time zone.

She felt Jed's fingers dig into her palm.

Her head swung toward him.  "It's okay.  The time doesn't matter."

"I'm afraid it's critical," he hissed as the Texan turned away to face
the crowd.

"Are you worried that you'~e getting overtired again?"  She stopped
abruptly, knowing he wouldn't want her to mention his illneas in
public.  "Didn't you take a nap this afternoon?"

He glared at her, and she knew by the instant clarity and glittering
anger in his eyes that he hadn't been drinking as much as she
thought--as much as he wanted people to think.  "Oh, I did all the
right stuff," he said, then darted a quick glance at Johnson, who was
waving everyone Over and shouting for silencio.

and Marissa.  "Let's get to the real fun of the evening.  Let's put the
bride and groom to bed."

Marissa went cold and stiff.  Now what?  Ignoring her reaction, Jed
slid his arm around her and m~bled his way across her cheek until his
mouth reached her ear.  He might look ~ a man anticipating a steamy
wedding night, but the message he delivered was harsh and grating.
"Let's hope it doesn't take too.  long.  Because if we end up in that
honeymoon cottage after one in the morning, we're going to be very
dead."

Chapter Twelve

There were enthusiastic shouts around the room.  All at once the crowd
had only one purpose.

"Put them to bed?

As the band struck up a raucous tune, Marissa tried to focus on Jed.
Had she heard him correctly?  "What?"

"I hope to hell it's not going to be too long before we're finally
alone," was all he said by way of clarification, and she realized he
couldn't explain anything to her now.  Butthe look in his eyes assured
her that he hadn't been playing some kind of practical joke.

"Get the donkeys!"  several people called.

"Start the procession!"

"Strip them first," a drunken voice chimed in--adding to the general
amusement of the onlookers.

Looking thoroughly pleased with himself, Johnson turned and winked at
Marissa.  "Don't you just love these quaint local customs?"

Wide-eyed, she sought to disappear behind Jed.  He wrapped his arms
protectively around her.  "Would they really strip us?"  she asked
above the clamor.

"I saw it happen once.  Let'~ hope we've ~got diplomatic immunity."

"Oh, God."

A drunk-looking man staggered toward them with a glass of rum in one
hand and a machete in the other.  Two others grabbed him and pushed him
out of the way.  He landed on his rump, the liquor sloshing down the
front of his shirt.

"Please, can't you just let us go?"  Marissa asked a woman standing
close by.

She shrugged.  "The men want to have their fun."  Several villagers led
two donkeys into the hall.  Both animals wore sombreros and halters
decorated with flowers.  Tin cans were tied to their tails, and bands
of bells circled their legs.  They made a terrible racket as they moved
across the tile floor.

Marissa stared at the beasts in astonishment.  If they'd been part of a
holiday parade, she would have laughed.  As it was, she found nothing
about the scene amusing.

Fighting panic, she scanned the room for a way out.  Before she could
take a s~, eager hands lifted her into the sidesaddle on the back of
one donkey.  She'd never ridden in that position; it felt terribly
unstable, and she held on for dear life as the onlookers clapped and
stamped their feet.  Pretending to be a bit unsteady, ed climbed onto
the other beast before anyone could help him.

Laughing and calling boisterously to each other, the wedding guests
began to parade the two of them around the room with Marism in the
lead.  Merrymakers surged around her, clapping, laughing and making
remarks about what the groom was going to do soon and how the bride was
going to responded had said they didn't have much time.  This had to
stop.  But how?

AS they made the first circuit of the room, Marissa racked her brain
for some way to end the ordeal.  The man guiding her donkey was none
too steady on his feet and kept veering toward the flowered trellises
that had been set up around the walls.

He was going to knock one down ~he didn't watch out, Marissa thought.
Then inspiration struck.  Hoping Jed was watching what she was doing,
she angled a foot outward and hooked the toe of her shoe through a gap
in the latticework.  As the donkey moved past the flower-covered
screen, it wavered dangerously and began to topple toward her.

Marissa screamed as if she were both surprised and terrified, lifting
her arms above her head to ward off the blow.  Jed slid from his own
animal and sprang forward.

Just as the ~trellis was about to strike him on the shoulders, he gave
a tremendous push, so that it landed with a crash on the tile floor.

The music stopped.  The crowd went utterly silent at the unexpected
turn of events.

Jed stared back at the faces that had gone from gleeful to grave in the
blink of an eye--his countenance dark and dangerous.  "Thank you for a
wonderful party.  But I think my bride and I have had enough fun for
one evening," he said as he helped her down from her donkey.  "Please
feel free to continue the festivities without us."  His tone was even,
but his body language telegraphed the message that the teasing was.
over for tonight.

Nobody said anything.

He inclined his head and waited for several more see-onds.  Then,
taking Marissa's arm, he led her out of the reception room and down the
hall toward the back of the hacienda.  Some of the crowd followed, but
they were more subdued now.

"Good going," he said as they emerged into the darkness.

"I didn't know if it would be enough."

Marissa saw that the path to the honeymoon cottage had been marged with
a line of lanl~ us As they reached the door, Jed stopped and spoi~ to
several me~a who were standing at attention near the door.  "Thanks for
keeping watch.  I don't think wo'll be needing you now."

"Don't you want us to make sure nobody comes around?"

"I appreciate your help.  But go in and join the party now.  Have
yourselves a good time."

The door closed behind them.  Mercifully, they had escaped from their
tormentors.  But now what?

Marissa's eyes were large and round as she ~ uncertainly at Jed,
smoldering sensuality mln~thing with layers of uncertainty.  He'd said
they couldn't stay here.  She still had no idea what was going on.

"Alone at last."  He gave her a sardonic smile, and her heart rose to
block her windpipe.

He took her icy hand.  "Come see the surprise I've got."

She loolmd at him questioningly when he led her to the bar.  Kneeling,
he moved the panel under the sink and pointed inside.  Mar~a stared in
horror.  Wedged between the water pipes v~as a bomb.  The clock on the
timer said oue-thirty.

"V~aen Johnson came over to us, I realized he was mitred up about the
time difference.  But that's okay, cause it got us out of the party
early," Jed commented, his careful choice of words telling her that
they still couldn't count on a private conversation.

"Johnson?"  Marissa repeated, her eyes fixed on the bomb.

Jed nodded.

The clock said the device was going to go off in half an hour--if
Johnson hadn't made some other miscalculation.  Pieces of the puzzle
were starting to fall into place.  The man had a mining deal going with
Sanchez, and it looked as if he was willing to kill to get rid of the
competition.  But did Sanchez know?

"He want to give us a roll scad off," Jed agreed.  He rolled his eyes. 
Marissa looked at him~in frustration.  Exchanging information was still
impossible.

"So now that we're alone, Mrs.  Prentiss, why don't you slip into
something more comfortable?"

Totally confused by the abrupt change of subject, she frowned.  But her
confusion became understanding as Jed pulled a pair of men's slacks, a
shirt and sandals from behind one of the sofa cushions.  It looked like
the outfits the villagers-wore.  Travel clothes, she ~dized.  He had
obviously s~he'd them here earlier in the day.

Jed looked from the bomb to the line of small buttons down her back.
"Let me help you off with your dress."

Marissa nodded wordlessly, and he came up behind her, his hands
brushing as/de the wisps of hair that had escaped from her French
twist.

She stood vel~] still, the touch of his fingers on her hnir and neck
sending little zings along her nerve endings.

A moment ago he'd been all business.  When his lrm- gets came in
contact with her skin, everything changed.  He drew in a shaky breath
as he buried his nose in her hair.  Then his lips grazed her neck.
"Like silk," he murmured.

Transfixed, Marissa moved her head against his face.  She'd been
dreading thl.  s kind of intimacy, yet her re-spouses to this man held
her captive.

For several heartbeats 3ed seemed to forget what he was supposed to be
doing.  Finally he began to unfasten the buttons at the back of her
dress.

She tried to stand very still as she felt the fabric slowly open,
exposing the skin of her back to his view.  Little shivers raced along
her skin as he touched her--not only with his fingers.  He followed the
progress of the buttons with his lips, sensually kissing the flesh that
be revealed.  When he slipped the dress from her shoulders, he made no
move to pick up the peasant outfit she was supposed to put on.

"Jed?"

He bent to capture her earlobe in his~eth, nibbling with controlled
pressure that made her dizzy.

"Jed..."  HIS name sighed out again,.  '

"Your skin is so soft.  And you smell so good."  He drew in a ragged
breath as he nuzzled his cheek and nose against her back.  His fingers
stroked up and down underneath One of her bra straps.

Her own breath was coming in little gasps.  In some part of her mind
she knew that the seconds were ticking by--each one moving them closer
to i~rdb.  " le danger.  She knew they had to get out of this room. But
she wasn't capable of moving at this moment.  He tugged her dress
lower.  It would have puddled around her feet if there had been an inch
of space between her body and his.  " Ah, Marcl, I've been looking at
you all evening, thinking about undressing you like this.  This is our
wedding night.  " He pressed her hips back against his, and she knew
unmistakably he was ready to make love to her.

"Yes," she breathed as her body responded to his words, to Iris touch.
She had never felt more aroused--perhaps because some part of her still
~ecognlzed that she was safe.  He wasn't going to take her into the
bedroom.  He couldn't.  Or could he?

"I've got to touch you.  Just touch you:'

He wasn't asking for permission.  He simply took what he wanted.  His
hands came up to clasp her breasts, kneading them gently through the
s'fiky fabric of her bra, making her gasp with pleasure.  Involuntarily
she closed her eyes and arched backward against him.  He found her
nipples, drawing small circles around them with his fin-gerfips until
they hardened to tight peaks of sensation.  She pressed into his hands,
whimpering deep in her throat.

"You want me."

She had no thought of denying the truth of Iris state- merit, "Yes."

His ~ and lips played with her neck and the sensitive curve of her ear.
Starved for more direct contact, she tried to twist around so that she
could kiss him, But he held her fast.  His hands stroked down her
front, pushing the dress out of the way.  It slid to the floor, and he
slipped his fingers under the edges of her panties.

Her body jerked as he touched her intlmai~ly, holding her captive.  All
thought was driven from her mind but the need to get closer still.

Then Jed's muttered curse brought back a measure of sanity.  "We're
playing with dynamite here."

This time her little whimper was ~ual palls fear and arousal as her
gaze shot to the bomb.  She would have toppled backward if he'd stepped
away from her.  In-slead he reached for the shirt on the couch and
helped her slip her arms through the sleeves.  He left the buttons for
her.

Marissa took gasping little breaths as she closed the front,~ then
stepped into the trousers he was holding out.  They were too long, and
he knelt to roll up the cuffs, making an obvious attempt empt not to
brush her ankles.

While she shoved her feet into the sandals and tuclaxi her hair under
the brim of her hat, he quickly shucked off his dinner jacket, dress
pants and shirt and donned an outfit similar to hers--only his looi~l
from pled as if he'd already been wearing it.  Then he bent and lifted
up another cushion.  Her eyes widened when she saw he was holding a
revolver.

"Where did you get that?"  she asked, forgetting for a moment that
someone might be listening.

,"I won't tell if you don't," he answered as he tucked the weapon into
his waistband.  Then he shrug a knapsack over his shoulder.

When they sJ~pped into the tropical night, she let out a long sigh.  It
was a relief to be away from the room with the bomb, but she didn't
know much about dynamiJg.  How far from the house would they have to go
to be safe from the blasted took her hand.  In the light from the
myriad stars and the almost full moon, they began to move rapidly away
from the cottage.  From destruction.

Marissa glanced back at the little cottage.  It stood alone, apart from
other buildings, which made it the perfect place for Johnson's scheme.
The blast would damage nothing else on thef inca

As they reached the edge of the plantings that provided privacy, Jed
stopped under a date palm to reconnoiter.  Marissa could see that when
they crossed the open area they'd he completely exposed.  But there was
no other way to escape

They stepped onto the grass, heading toward the nearest clump of
foliage.  Before they'd gotten more than a few yards the sound of
footsteps crunching on the gravel path made them both stop abruptly.
Jed's fingers clamped down on Marissa's.  They were trapped.  And
running for the nearest clump of trees would only give them away.

Her body went cold all over as she felt his free hand silently pull the
gun from his trousers.  Then two dark shapes came into view.  It looked
like a couple of men from the village heading home after the
festivities.  They were staggering.  Please God, let them be too drunk
to notice what was around them, Marissa prayed.

"Come on," Jed whispered.  "Act like you belong here, and they won't
pay any attention."

She'd forgotten she was dressed like a man.  That nobody would take her
for the bride unless they saw her face.  With her heart in her throat
she started walking

again, putting one' foot in front of the other as the pair lurched
away at an angle across the clearing.

She half expected them to turn and clamp a hand on her shoulder.
Miraculously, she and Jed reached the nearest knot of trees without
incident.  After that, to her relief, it was possible to zigzag their
way across the fin ca without being exposed for more than.  a few
seconds.

Then, in the distance, she could hear the dogs barking, and for a
panicked few seconds she imagined a pack of Dobermans looming out of
the darkness.

Jed must have had the same thought, because she felt him tense.  Then
he relaxed.  "Don't worry about them.  There are too many people on the
grounds tonight.  And the general won't want his guests getting torn
up."

Marissa took what comfort she could in the reassurance as Jed led her
toward a low building that looked like a warehouse made of corrngal~!
steel with a long bank of garage doors.

"Wait here," he whispered.  "Why are we stopping?"  "Call it
curiosity."

She doubted mere curiosity would delay Jed at a time ~ this.  Stepping
into the shadows, she watched him disappear around the side of the
building.  Several seconds later Madssa heard a .  gwan and felt her
heart lurch.  Sprinting around the corner, she found an armed sentry
lying on the ground by a small door.  ed handed her the man's machine
gun and tucked his own pistol back in his waistband.

"Sorry I had to do that," he muttered.

"He'll report it when he wakes up."

"Yeah.  But he didn't see me.  So he can't tell Saqchez who it was."

Marissa served as lookout while Jed look a small tool kit from his
knapsack and tackled the padlock on the door.  He had it open in a
matter of moments.

Inside it was pitch-dark, But Jed must have spent the afternoon getting
ready for this, because he'd brought along a flashlight.  Madssa held
it as he tied up the soldier; all the while she felt her lens ion
balloon.  She wan led to leave the fin ca as quickly as possible, and
she had to remind herself that Jed wouldn't be stopping in this place
if it wasn't important.

"Now let's find out what my great and good friend's got under lock and
key," he said.  Taking the flashlight from Madssa, he'hegan to play the
beam over some large pieces of machinery.  "Either he's going in for
wad building and housing projects in a big way or"

"I vote.  for mining equipments" she said in a low voice that matched
ed's.

"Oh, yeah?"

"When they thought I was asleep this ari~ /won two of the women were
talking about $ohnson."  She felt her cheeks heat as she recalled the
circumstances and was glad the fiashligh{ beam wasn't trained on her
face.  "Apparently he's a mining engineer who comes here all the time.
And he's not from Texas."

"Sanchez told me he's an arms dealer."

"Because it's a plausible explanation for their rehtionship.  And one
you'd believe," Marissa supplied.  "But the women who were discussing
him didn, t have an ax to grind.  Try this scenario.  What if Johnson
and your friend have some kind of private deal to develop the copper
deposits in Junipero Province?  Theycut the government out and take all
the profits."

Jed's eyes narrowed as he considered the theory.  "That would explain
why he didn't jump at the loan offer to the Ministry of Development."

The beam stopped as it hit a gigantic circular pan that must have been
fifteen or sixteen feet in diameter.  "Wait a minute."  He stepped
closer and whistled.  "Well, I'll he damned.  Did the women mention
copper mining?"

"Not specifically."

"Well, I think there's a better reason why he wants to keep the
Mini.~try of Development out of Junipero Province.  He and Johmon
aren't mining copper.  They're mining diamonds."

Marissa's eyes widened.  "Diamonds?  What makes you think so?"

"Ninety-five percent of the world's output still comes from South
Africa.  But diamonds are in Brazil, Venezuela and Guyana.  So why not
in the unexplored jungle of San Marcos?"

Jed stepped closer to one of the metallic circles and played the light
along the edge.  "Here's the manufacturer's name.  It's, a firm in Cape
Town.  You've heard about miners panning for gold--separating the ore
from the gravel in stream beds by washing it in pans.  The gold stays
on the bottom because it's denser than the gravel.  Well, the same
principle is used with diamonds.  Only the pans are gigantic.,"

"You're positive this stuff.  couldn be for copper?"

"No.  I could give you a lot of technical details about copper
refining, but all you have to know is that it's an entirely different
process."

Marissa nodded.

Jed looked at his watch.  "Let's get out of here.  The explosion is
going to give us the perfect cover to get off

"How much time do we have?"  "A little less than eight minuS."  "Oh!"

They left the guard tied up in the building and retraced part of their
route, angling off to the right and ending up at a wire fence that
should have been electrified.  Apparently Jed had disabled the
mechanism, because his hand didn't sizzle when he lifted it up and
helped her down into a deep concrete draining ditch about fifty yards
from the honeymoon cottage.  At this time of year the ditch was
bone-dry.

The overhang of a little platform sheltered them from view.  It also
hid a motorcycle leaning against the wall of the conduit.

"You've been busy," Marissa commeni~d.

"Yeah.  I pulled a straw hat down over my face and went native.  With
all the hoopla of the wedding preparatious; nobody was doing their
usual jobs."

Jed had piclaxi a perfect place to watch the firewor~.  They were out
of sight and pro~ected from the explosion, but they had an unobstrucl~d
view of the little house.

"Only three minutes now," Jed whispered, slipping his arm around
Marissa and drawing her close.  She leaned against him in the dark,
feeling ~msion build inside her that was not only from the anticipaizxi
explosion.  There were still so many things she wanted to talk about
with

Jed, yet everything would have to wait.

"Two minule$."

Marissa strained to see the cottage through the darkness.  S'denfiy she
began to count off the seconds.  When she'd reached thirty, she saw a
figure approaching the back door.  It was a woman walking s~althily and
car-tying a basket.  As she paused and looked around to see if anyone
was watching her, Marissa felt her breath still~

"Good heavens, it's Clarita!"

Jed groaned.  "Damn her."

Clarita took several steps closer to the cottage.  In a panic, thinking
of nothing but the danger to the girl, Marissa pulled herself up to the
rim of the ditch and started to scramble forward.

Chapter Thirteen

Jed moved faster than Marissa, clamping his hand over her arm so hard
that she gasped.

"Please.  I've got to stop her."

"Are you as cracked as she is?"

"You can't go out there now.  The place is going to blow at any second.
I won't let you kill yourself trying" -- Jed stopped abruptly and
raised his voice.  Speaking in Spanish, he shoumd, "Halt.  Or I'll
shoot."

He sounded just ~ one of the guards.  Clarita whirled toward the
command.

"Back up, se~orita," Jed added.

The girl raised her chin haughtily.  "Do you know whom you're
addressing?  When I ~11 E/Jefe of your presumption, he will"

The end of her sentence was cut off by a blast that sounded like a
volcanic eruption and felt like a ramon airplane slamming into the
earth.

As the ground shook, Jed pulled Marissa down, shielding her body with
his.  The last thing she saw was the walls and roof of the cottage
flying outward.  Then debris began to rain down.

Jed didn't wait for the dust to settle.  "We're in the clear.  Come
on."

Marissa stayed where she was, straining her eyes to see through the
dust.  "We can't leave Clarita.  She may be hurt."

"People are coming.  They'll take care of her."  Marissa realized Jed
was right.  After several seconds of stunned silence, guards began
shouting and hurrying toward the blast area from all directions.
Reluctantly she let led lead her away.

Bending low, he grabbed the handlebars of the motor cycle and began to
walk it down the ditch.

"Not yet."

He stopped and shrugged.  They both listened to the noise and confusion
as the soldiers tried to ma!  ~ sense of what had happened.

"Madre de Dios/ Senor led," someone shouted.

"Where are you?  Are you all right?"

"Nobody could survive that."  "Here's a woman."  "Was she inside?"  "I
don't know."

"By all the saints.  It's El $efe's daughter."

"See.  They found her," led whispered.

"All right."  Marissa nodded in the dark and followed

"What did you mean when you asked if I was as crazy as she?"  Marissa
asked in a low voice.

"She's having mental problems.  Everybody on the fin ca knows it, but
Sanchez won't get her any help."

Marissa sighed.  "That explains a lot of her strange behavior."

"I hope this changes Sanchez's mind."

As they moved down the ditch, the noise and disarray behind them faded
to a distant babble of voices.  About a quarter mile from the blast
site led started the machine and climbed on.  Madssa perched on the
seat behind him and circled his waist with her arms.  She leaned

her head on his shoulder as they moved slowly down the pavement, still
with the lamp off.  But there was enough light from the moon and
brilliant canopy of stars to navigate.

She pressed her cheek to his shoulder and hung on to his powerful body,
letting the vibrations of the engine lull her.  It was hard to believe
they~ were really getting away from Sanchez.  ~

When the motorcycle slowed, her head jerked up.  A

chain-link fence blocked the ditch.

"Now what?"

"Not to worry.  Can you hold this thing for a minute?"  .

"Yes."

He dismounted and walked to the fence, Grasping the center of the
links, he pulled, and they parted like the Red Sea opening for the
Israelites.

He grinned back at her.  "Superman!"

"You cut it this afternoon."  "

" Right.  "

He came back nd guided the machine through the opening.  As Marissa
followed him outside the fence, she felt as if a hundred-pound weight
had been lifted from her shoulders.

"Thank you," she breathed.

Jed propped the bike against the fence.  They each took a step forward.
Then she was in his arms, and he was crushing her to him.  Their lips
came together in a long, searing kiss that was broken only when they
both had to come up for air.

"Oh, ~Ied, Jed.  You got me out of there.  You saved my life.  I owe
you so much."

"You don't owe me anything."

It wasn't exactly the declaration Marissa wanted to hear.  But she knew
he wasn't a man who articulated his feelings easily.  She gestured
toward the cut fence and the motorcycle.  "You must have been running
around all day getting things set up.  If you want, I can drive and you
can rest."

"You don't have to coddle me.  I'm fine!"

She realized she'd said the wrong thing again and hastened to repair
the damage.  "Jed, it's been pretty hard for me to stand by like a
helpless female and let you run the rescue operation."

He nodded.  "Yeah, I understand.  But I didn't exactly do it by myself.
If you hadn't played the part I tossed at you, we never would have made
it."

"That's true."  '

"So you can leave the driving to me.  I'm probably a lot more
experienced on a motorcycle than you are."

She climbed in back of him again, and they started off once more at a
slow speed, still with the lights off.

"I've got a boat waiting for us at a little town called Zapaca.  We can
be out of San Marcos in another four hours," he told her.

She shook her head.  "We can't.  We have to go back to Santa
Isabella."

"Impossible.  When Sanchez' doesn't find any bodies in that cottage,
he's going to come looking for us."

"You think he gave the instructions to Johnson?"  Jed nodded grimly.

"All the more reason why I want to get the goods on him."

"You know as well as I do that the next time somebody looks, that
diamond mining equipment will have disappeared from those
warehouses."

"Of course.  But there's another way.  I assume you know ~rlctor
Kirkland at the State Department sent me down here?"

"On a damn fool minion."

"You were here for the same thing," she challenged.  "I didn't get
caught with my hand in the cookie jar."

So they were back where they'd started at the cocktail party--wary
opponents.

"I would have been okay," Marissa said, "if somebody hadn't given me
away."

"It wasn't me!"

"I know," she said softly.  She felt the muscles in his shoulders
clench.  "Maybe Johnson saw me leave the party.  Maybe it was Clarita
who called the guards.  But that's not the important thing now."

"I'm listening.  You've got sixty seconds to convince me we should risk
our lives by staying in a country where the head of the army can
execute a U.S. citizen without a

She began to spe0k quickly.  "Before I got caught, I photographed some
documents that were in code.  I couldn't read them, but I assumed they
were Sanchex's plans for overthrowing President Palmeriz--because he
thinks the army is stronger than the democratic govern-meat.  That's
what Victor sent me down here to scope out.  Now it looks like Sanghex
is going to use the money from the diamond-mining operation to finance
a coup.  After I breached his security, he probably moved the documents
to a safer location.  But we can still get the film.  I sealed my
camera in a plastic bag and stuck it in his toilet tank.  If he'd found
it, I'd already be dead."

Jed swore.  "I suppose it's in the private bathroom off his office."

"Nobody will he expecting us to break in there.  They'll expect us to
clear out as fast as we can."

He didn't answe~ one way or the other.

She felt her tension mount.  "So where are we guing?"  ~

she asked after five minutes of silence.

"To the coast."

"I'm not leaving San Marcos.  I'll get the film my-serf."

"Honey hee, you'll only get caught again, and this whole sideshow will
have been a waste."

A sideshow.  Was that what he called it?  Anger surged inside her.  But
she knew her reaction was reflexive.  For once, she swallowed her
pride.  "You're right.  I'm not being rational," she admitted.  "I'm
angry about what that based did to me--to us--and I want to get back at
him in spades.  But more than that, I want to come home feeling that I
accomplished my mission.  I don't want to be talked about for the rest
of my life as the bumbling idiot who had to be rescued.  But I need
your help to pull this off."

She'd laid herself bare, and she waited anxiously for his answer.
Although he shifted in his seat, he was silent again for several
miles.

Afraid he wasn't go' rag to respond, she had no option but to sit
behind him, holding on tightly as he swerved around a tree limb that
had fallen into the drainage ditch.  When he finally began to speak,
his voice was gruff.  "I

understand how you feel.  "

"I hoped you would."

"But it's not a simple case of my changing plans.  Mayhe you'd better
hear the whole story of what happened to me in Royal Verde."

"You don't owe me any more explanation than you already gave me."

"I want you to know where I'm coming from, as the touchy,feely types
put it."  She felt him suck in a long draft of air and let it out
slowly, a man working up to some sort of shameful confession.  "I was
on assignment trying to pinpoint the source of a very nasty street
drug.  I'd zeroed in on a local mental hospital where some strange
stuff was going on--like voodoo ceremonies with human sacrifice."

Marissa sucked in a sharp breath.  "How did they get away with that?"

"The director of the place would remind you of Sanchez.  He was a law
unto himself on his own estate.  Unfortunately I picked voodoo night to
reconnoiter, got shot out of a tree with a blowgun and ended up locked
in the asylum's disturbed ward.  The director tried to get me to
talk--using a variety of interesting methods..~ men that didn't work,
he decided that I, along with a female agent they captured later, were
go'me to be the next sacrificial victims."

"No!"

"They starved me for a few days to make me weak, Then they brought us
to the co'emonial ground, made us drink a vile concoction and tied us
to stakes,"

Marissa pressed her face against his shoulder, not sure she wanted to
hear the rest, but he plowed on.  Marissa guessed that the concealing
darkness, and the fact that his back was to her, made it easier to
talk.

"I wouldn't he alive at all," ~Ied continued, "if the voodoo priestess
hadn't decided to double-cross her partner .  I found out later that
she put some kind of organic compound on the knife she plunged into our
chests.  Along with the stuff we drank before the ritual, it sent us
into a state of Suspended animation, so ~,erybody thought we were dead.
And the team that had come down to clean up the flap on Royal Verde was
able to get us out of there."

"Oh, Jed, it must have been awful."

"Well, when the priestess plunged the knife into my body, I went out
like a light."

"After they revived us, I thought I was back to nor-nul.  I even joked
about being a zombie.  But it turned out not to be very funny.  It
wasn't until months later that I discovered there's a virus in my
blood.  Too much stress and fatigue trigger the sleeping sickness you
saw the other night.  The doctors tell me there's no medical
treatment.

I've just got to live with it.  " He swiveled his head partly around. "
So you're pushing your luck if you're counting on me to help you get in
and out of Sanchez's office.

I may let you down when you need me the most.  " " Don't call yourself
a zombie.  "

"And what would you call it?"  he asked bitlerly as he focused on the
pavement ahead of him once more.  "For my next career I can be exhibit
A in that voodoo.  museum in New Orleans."

Marissa clasped her hands more tightly around his middle and moved her
cheek against his neck, longing to talk face-to-face, to make him
understand that the confession didn't change the way she felt about
him.  "What happened isn't your fault."

"I shouldn't have gotten caught."

"Neither should I!"  "That's different."  "How?"

He was silent for several moments.  Then he sighed, "Okay.  I guess I
know how you're feeling about this assignment.  If you trust me and you
want me to take you back to Santa Isabella, I'll do it."

"Thank you."

"Hold the thanks until we're in the clear."

Marissa closed her eyes and clung to him~ He'd been achingly honest
with her, and she wanted to be the same with him.  But unlike Jed, she
didn't feel comfortable having a personal discussion straddling a
motorbike.  She wanted more time and a better place, where she could
watch his face as she spoke.  Yet the pressure to confess her own
deficiency was like a balloon expanding inside her chest.  Trying to
ignore it, she leaned into him, hoping he'd know by the way she held
him that she trusted him completely.

The machine plowed on through the night.  When Jed reached the end of
the ditch, he consulted the odometer and a map from his knapsack.
Turning left, he bumped across a stretch of open field to the
road--where he turned on the light and sped up.

They'd gone only a few miles when he cursed and slammed on the
brakes.

"We've got company."  He gestured down the blacktop.

She expected to confront one of Sanchez's men.  Instead she made a
LITTLE exclamation when she saw orange fur and black spots.  A jaguar!
It was sprawled on the pavement only a few yards from where Jed had
stopped.  The big cat ~ its head, regarding them as if they were
intruders in its private bedroom.

"They like the heat the road absorbs during the day,"

Jed explained.

"I know."

He eased the machine gun off the saddle carrier and handed it to
Mariaaa.  "They don't attack people unless they're very hungry."

"Right."

"But keep an eye on him."

Hoping the weapon was just a precaution, she trained it on the animal
as Jed reved the engine.  The cat watched them warily for several more
seconds, its body poised to spring.

Mariaaa held the gun s~ady.  To her relief, the animal leaped up and
trotted into the underbrush.

The next few miles passed without incident.  When they came to a road
that branched off to the right, Jed consulted the map and the odometer
again and turned right.  "Where are you going?"

"I didn't know what the situation would be when I came back from
Baltimore, so I arranged for several safe houses where we could hole up
if we needed to.  One isn't far from here.  I rented it in the name of
the Audubon

Society--for some bird-watchers who are supposed to be coming down to
San Marcos in a couple of weeks.  " " We'll be safe there?  "

"I can't give you an ironclad guarantee.  But we'll be

For all her bravado, the thought of falling into Sanchez's clutches
again made her shudder.  She knew Jed was giving her a chance to change
her mind about staying.  But she damped her teeth togctber and didn't
voice any more objections.

As Jed sped on, Marissa realized how wrung out she was.  She'd been
mentally prepa~ for a long ride, but the reality was taking its toll.
Slumping against him, she closed her eyes as the bike bumped down a
gravel road.  Vfnen they jolted to a halt, she rendized to her
astonishment that she'd actually fallen asleep.  Blinking, she saw they
were in front of a native dwelling with a thatched roof and walls of
bamboo poles.  Dismounting, she staggered over to the rows of vertical
posts and braced her-serf with her hand.

"Are you okay?"

"Just stiff."  She made an effort to straighten while Jed pulled out a
set of keys.  After a couple of tries he unlocked the padlock on the
door and shone the light around the interior.

"All clear."

Handing Marissa the light, he retrieved the motorbike and brought it
inside with them.  She played the beam around the small room, revealing
a bed, a riel~y table and a pile of supplies.  It was about as basic as
one of El .  l e pounds s cells.

"Not very plush, I'm afraid," Jed admitted.  "But I think we're
safe."

"I assume the bathroom's out back."

"Yeah.  There aren't any three-star hotel~ out here."  "I wasn't
complaining."

He led the way to the minimal facilities.  "Ladies first."  She wished
he wasn't standing right on the other side of the door, but she knew he
wasn't going to leave her alone in this part of the jungle tonight--or
any other night.

After they'd returned to the house she watched him move efficiently
around the small room, locking the door behind them and lighting an oil
lamp.

When she heard the lock snap, she felt her throat go dry.

Stop it she shouted inside her head.  This/s led.  He's not going to
hurt you.

He broke the seal on a bottle of water.  Marissa took several swallows
to moisten her dry mouth.  It was tempting to draw into herself--to lie
down, roll away from him and pretend all she wanted to do was sleep.
But she wasn't going to take the coward's way out.  She'd psyched
herself up to talk to him, and every moment she waited increased the
tight feeling in her chest.

She watched Jed set down his pack and stretch, drawing her attention to
his powerful muscles.  "We've got field rations if you want
something."

"I'm not hungry."

There was nowhere to sit besides a double bed with rope springs
attached to the wooden frame.  Marissa stared at it for several seconds
before gingerly lowering her body onto it.

the thin mattress, she struggled to breathe without giving away her
nervousness.  But she couldn't stop herself -from twisting her stiff
fingers around a strand of her hair.

"We'll probably both feel better after a good night's sleep," Jed said
noncommittally, and she knew she wasn't fooling him.

The pressure inside her chest made her words come out high and shaky.
"After we finish the conversation."

"Which conversation ?"

Knowing she was stepping into a mine field, she plowed on.  "You said
you understood how I felt about getting caught by Sanchez.  I wanted to
tell you I understood about the... the zombie stuff."

He moved away from her, propping his back against the wall and pinning
her with his gaze.  "I don't need .  empathy right now.  I need
sleep."

Marissa ignored the sarcasm in his voice.  "You feel like somebody
stepped into your life and took away your power to make your own
decisions.  You feel angry he-cause your choices are limited.  You
don't feel quite whole.  In fact, used and degraded are.  better
descriptions.  And you keep cursing yourself for a fool because you've
let that one unfortunate incident rule everything you do."  She blurted
out the phrases that had been running around and around in her head for
the past few hours.

Jed's eyes glittered in the lamplight.  "What are you trying to do?" he
demanded.  "Expose every raw nerve in my body just so you can prove a
point?"

Her heart was threatening to pound its way up her throat.  "I'm trying
to show you that I get it--better than almost anyone else would."

He remained silent, a wary but curious look coming.  over his handsome
features.

She gazed down at her hands clasped tightly in her lap.  The knuckles
were white.  She'd deliberately forced this confrontation, and she'd
told herself she wanted to look him in the eye.  Yet suddenly she
couldn't quite meet his gaze.  "What you went through," she began, then
paused to draw a steadying breath and start again.  "What you went
through comes pretty close to the experience of being raped."

The devastated look on his face almost undid her.  "No," he whispered.
"No."

She nodded, determined to make him understand how it was for her.  "For
ten years I've known I wanted the same things a normal woman wants.
Being alone made me so sad.  But the fear was stronger.  I couldn't get
close to any man--because one of them won my trust and then tore my
heart out.  So I made myself tough and cold and unapproachable."  She
swallowed hard.  "Then I met someone I liked.  Someone who turned me
on.  Someone I wanted to be... close to.  But that scared me so badly I
worked overtime to make sure he kept his distance.  And if you haven't
figured it out, I'm talking about you."

She'd said it.  Not the worst, perhaps.  But enough.  There was
complete silence for several seconds, and she cringed inside, hardly
able to believe she'd been that honest.  Now what would he think of
her?

"Marci?"  He closed the space between them, taking her by the
shoulders--gently, oh, so gently.  Slowly, as if he were afraid she'd
bolt, he pulled her into his arms.  For a moment she held herself
rigid.  Then she gave up and went limp against him.  She'd told him her
deep dark secret, and he had taken her in his arms.  That was miracle
enough.  But all at once it seemed possible that the rest of it was
going to be okay, too.

As his hands stroked her hair, her back, the knot of tension in her
chest began to loosen.  "Honey, I figured out some guy must have been
rough with you.  I didn't know you were raped."

"Oh, Jed, all these years Eve worked so hard to fool you.  To keep you
from thinking of me as a Woman."

He utl~red a single short laugh.  "I thought of you as a woman, all
right."

Compulsively, she continued.  "You're so' masculine.  Aggressive.
Intimidating.  You take what you want.  And I was afraid of' that Then
you came down here pretending we were engaged, and you stood all my
rules on their heads.  Jed, when you kissed me that first time, it was
like fireworks going off."

"Afterward, I was quaking inside.  But I knew that if I let you or
Sanchez see how scared I was, I'd get us both

"I kept pushing you," he muttered.  "See'rag how far I

could get you to go.  "

"Why?"

"You're not the only one who's been attracted for years.  I guess I
liked having you in a position where you couldn't back off."  He
hughed.  "That's the macho answer.  And it's part of the truth.  The
other part is that once I kissed you, I could hardly ieuiember my own
name."

"Oh, Jed."  ~

He turned her to him and started to kiss her.  Then he pulled back as
if he'd put his face too close to an open flame.

She felt her world shat~r.  "I've dumped a lot of heavy stuff on you,"
she murmured.  "I understand if you can't deal with it."

When she started to turn away so he couldn't see the tears in her eyes,
he took her fiercely by the arms.  "Honey, don't ever make the mistake
of thinking I don't want you.  Or that I don't care.  I'm trying my
damnedest to get thi.~ right."

He touched her quivering lips with his finger.  "There are things I
need to know.  Like, how do you feel now?  Are you still afraid of me?
And how close do you want me to get?  Tonight."

She raised her head and looked at him, feeling as if time were standing
still, waiting for her answer.  Here it was, at last.  Was she going to
continue being a coward?  Or could she finally, here and now, reclaim
her life?  "I'm

still afraid," she said, her voice shaking as much as her body.  " And
at the same time, I feel like I'll die if I can't make love with you.
"

His knuckles grazed her cheek.  "Have you made love since... I mean...
since it happened?"

"No," she whispered.  "But when you kissed me and touched me, it made
me so hot and shaky that I felt like I was go' rag to jump out of my
skin."  She nestled against him, daring to let the warm feeling steal
over her once more.  It was wonderful to finally he honest with
him--with herself.  To let him know what she wanted.  She could do
this.  It was going to be all right.

He chuckled.  "I understand the feeling."

"But ... but ... I have to explain something to you first," she said,
breaking past shyness.  "Remember that night in your room when you
tried to to push me down onto the rug.  I..."

"That scared you," he finished.

"Yes.  Your weight on top of me.  So maybe we can't... I mean... could
we... ?"

"I think we can work around that.  If you're sure it's what you want to
do.  Or we can, you know, take it slow, get to know each other better."
~"I don't want to take it slow.  This is..."  She hesitaU:d, raising
her face to his.  "Jed, this is our wedding

She'd thought she had everything figured out.  She'd thought she could
simply have what she wanted, now that she'd bared her soul.  In the
next moment, to her astonishment, she burst into tears.

Chapter Fourteen

"Marci, honey?"

Marissa tried to answer but found she Was incapable of speakin~ around
the sobs that racked her body.  All.  she could do was cling to Jed as
she fought to get control of herself.

"It's okay.  It's okay," he murmured, along with other soothing words
she only half heard.

By slow degrees she managed to subdue the storm of tears.  Jed held
her, continuing his gentle reassurance until she was calmer.  When he
brought a tissue out of the knapsack, she blew her nose.

"Honey, we don't have to"

"Don't you understand?  I'want you so much I feel like I'm going to
burn up from the inside out!"  she cut in fiercely.  "I thought... I
could... we could..."

He waited patiently, not pushing her into difficult explanations.

She gulped in a lungfid of air.  "I told you, I want to be normal."

"You are!"

"I don't think this is going to work unless I ~ell you what happened. I
need you to understand why tonight is so threatening to me."

"Okay," he said softly.

She held the edge of the mattress in- a death grip, her fingers so
rigid that she wondered vaguely if she'd ever pry ~xn open again.  "Did
you ever see that movie Cape Fear, where a man who was sent to prison
terrorizes his lawyer's famfiy--~ally the wife and daughter?"  Jed
nodded.

"I've seen it a dozen times.  Mayheto convince myself I'm not the only
fool who could he takin in by a smooth- talking stranger."

"Don't call yourself a fool," he said harshly.

"Okay.  Sure.  I was eighteen, in my first year of college at the
University of.  Maryland.  There was thi.~ guy named Lowell Dougan.  He
started a conversation with me in the library.  I was pretty shy.  But
I was happy to finally he on my own, away from my father.  Lowell was
so charming and funny that he got me to go out to dinner with him that
night.  After that he sort of ... swept me Off my feet."  She sighed,
trying once more to come to terms with what had happened.  "I was
pretty naive.  My father had hardly let me date in high school.  So I
didn't know much about men.  Lowell flattered me.  Made me feel
special. Convinced me we were madly in love with each other and that we
should get married.  Probably you're thinking I was pretty stupid."

"No.  It sounds like you were lonely--and susceptible."

"I was.  Lowell kept sidestepping any questions I had about his family
or his background.  I didn't know he'd been in the army and been
court-marfialed and spent four years at Leavenworth Penitentiary.  I
didn't know my father had sta~ed the court-martial proceedings because
he'd caught Lowell hitting on female (}Is.  I didn't know he was heing
so nice to me to get back at Colonel Devereaux."

"Because he deliherately hid all that from you."

"But I should have had more sense than to run off and marry him!"  she
protested.  "On our wed-wedding night

I found out that what he really wanted was revenge.  " Jed cursed
vehemently.

"He kept me captive in a motel room for two days--raping me and...
other things.  He, d leave me there tied up in the dark for hours,
wondering when he was going to come back.  Then he'd leap into the room
and--and" -- She didn't want to ~ him any more.

Jed's eyes blazed.  He pounded his fist against the wall.  "I'll kill
the bastard!"

"You can't.  He shot himself.  At least he didn't make me watch.  He
left me fled up until the maid found me in the morning."

Jed held her tightly.  "Oh, Marc!.  Oh, Lord."

"My sister Cassie doesn't know because she was away at the University
of Vim,."  ma.  My father told me it was my fault.  For years I
believed him.  "

"No!"

"Abby Fravklin's been helping me deal with it..  She's a psychologist
in the building where I work.  She's been great."

"I know.  Remember, she helped refine the rescue plan."  He swallowed.
"Before I left, I had a session with Abby.  I told her about what
happened on Royal Verde and asked her if I was up to this rescue
mission.  She told me she thought you and I would he good for each
other."

Marissa hughed.  "I made the mistake of talking to her about you. She's
been after me for six months to stop acting like a coward."

"You're not!  A coward wouldn't have raided Miguel's office."

"No.  It had to be someone with nothing left to lose."  Marissa looked
down at her hands.  She'd thought she was past the hard part.  But
there was one more confession she felt compelled to make.  "I didn't
want to tell you about Lowell--about him specifically.  I didn't want
you to be thinking about what he did to me when we make love," she
whispered.

"The only thing I'm going to think about is how much I like being close
to you."

"Oh, Jed."  Her eyes misted.  Blinking back the tears, she moved closer
to him quickly and slipped her arms around his neck.  When she felt
more in control, she whispered, "I've waited a long time for thi~q."

"So have I. But we don't have to rush.  Maybe it would be better to
hold off until another night.  One that's not

"No.  I've got a chance to replace that other wedding night with this
one.  That's the only way I'm going to wipe out the horror of what
happened."  She stopped as another thought struck her.  "I'm sorry.  I
just realized I'm putting a lot of pressure on you.  More than I have
any right to.  I know it's not a real marriage.  But"

"It's as real as we want to maim it."

Her eyes shone as she gazed at him.  He gave her a little smile and
glanced around the confines of the shack.  "I just wish I could check
us into the Ritz, instead of thi.~ hovel."

"It's not on Sanchez's estate, and that's the only thing that
matters."

He looked at her with such tenderness that she dared to let hope bloom.
Perhaps that was the moment she knew for sure that she had fallen in
love with him.  Her heart swelled with gladness.  She wanted to tell
him how she felt.  Yet she didn't want to put any more pressure on him.
She couldn't be certain what would happen when they returned to
civilization, but she would take whatever he offered tonight.

He gathered her close and covered her lips with his, kissing her at
first with leashed passion.  As she made her eager response known, he
deepened the kiss, and she realized she was playing in the big
leagues.

"Jed, I don't have much experience with this sort of thing," she
whispered.

"Then we're both in the same boat."

"Oh, come on!"

He gave her a rueful little grin.  "Sure, I've had my share of fun. The
difference is, I've never been with anyone who was so sure of herself
in every situation except in bed.  And I've never been with anyone who
turned me on so much that she made my hands shalm.  But, honey, I want
to do this right.  I want this to be as perfect for you as I can make
it."

- His words brought a~warm flush to her skin.  "I want to please you,
too," she whispered.  "I want that so much."

"You do."

"What if I can't"

"We're not setting goals.  W ~'re just doing things together that feel
good to both of us.  The only rule is that if you're uncomfortable with
something, you tell me,"

He paused to prop up several pillows along the wall so he could sit
comfortably against them, his legs stretched out and crossed at the
ankles.  He looked completely at ease, and when he held out his hand to
her, she nestled beside him.  He gave, her a lazy kiss that started
with her mouth and ended with his lips and' tongue exploring her neck.
It was warm and sweet and very arousing.  When he'd finished, she found
that he'd angled her body around so that she was facing him, her
breasts inches from his chest.  "Now I've got you where I want you."

Still a little nervous, she hesitatingly returned the smile.  This was
all so new.  But she felt a fierce trust gathering inside her.

He carefully pulled out the last of her tortoiseshell pins and combed
her hair around her shoulders, burying his nose in the golden strands
and turninoo his head so that he could nibble on her ear.  "You smell
so good.  But you taste even better."  There were things she'd been
wanting to do, too.  Tentatively, she touched her tongue to the edge of
his jaw.  "You're bristly."

"Mayhe I should use some of that bottled water to shave."

"Don't.  I like you the way you are."

"Then we're on the same wavelength."

He kept the pace slow and light, getting a little more intimate with
each kiss.  Finally he unbuttoned the top of her shirt and nibbled
along her collarbone and down to the tops of her breasts.

She whimpered, amazed that anything.  could feel so good.  So erotic.

"Okay?"

"I'm burning up."

"Well, we're probably both a little overdressed."

Marissa giggled, silently admitting that she was still a bit on edge.

Jed pulled off his shirt and tossed it on the floor, and she knew he
was waiting to see if she was comfortable with that.  Catching her
lower lip between her It~eth, she flattened her hand against his chest.
"You have a sexy chest."

"Not as sexy as yours."

"I don't know about that."  She traced the contours of his muscles and
slid her fingers through his springy hair, enjoying the freedom to
touch him.  While she did, he slowly unbuttoned her shirt but didn't
take it off.  Instead, he unsnapped his trousers, worked them over his
hips and kicked them out of the way.

Her gaze dropped to his briefs.  She swallowed as she zeroed in on the
bulge that proclaimed his arousal.

He waited several seconds, then crooked a finger under her chin,
forcing her eyes to meet his.  "Honey, he-ing with you like this turns
me on.  I can't hide that.  I wouldn't want to.  I want you to know
what you do to me."

"What if you lose control?"  she bluffed.  "What if"

"Do you trust me?"

"More than anyone else in the world."

"Well, any time you want me to stop, all you have to do is ~ me.  And I
will.  No matter what we're doing.  Okay?"

She nodded.  This was the moment of truth.  The moment she well and
truly put herself into his hands.  Perhaps because she wanted to prove
something to herself, she undid her trousers and skinned them down her
legs.  It didn't ~ a lot of exertion, but she was breathing hard and
her heart was pounding when-she finished.

Jed stroked his hand along her calf.  "You've got gorgeous legs." After
a long kiss, he pulled her onto his lap facing him, guiding her knees
to either side of his hips so she was straddling him.

The pose was so blatantly erotic that Marissa's legs stiffened.  Then
she gradually relaxed, lowering her body until she was pressed intimacy
to him, their flesh separated by only a couple of layers of
underclothes.

'. "Mmm.  That feels wonderful," he rumbled as he dropped butterfly
kisses over her neck and shoulders.

"Yes."  The position might have frightened her, except that she was the
one on top--with the fmxlom to bail out if she wanted.

Jed kept his arms at his sides as if he understood that she needed to
feel unfettered.  He nibbled at her jawline, her neck.  Then~ using him
mouth, he skimmed back her shirt as his fingers played with the fabric
at the top of her bra.  She held her breath us he dipped inside.
Trembled us her skin prickled and her nipples hardened.

More.  She wanl~d more.

Maybe she'd said it aloud.  Because he dipped lower with little strokes
that were lIra heat lightning crackling over her nerve endings.

She made small, incoherent noises in her throat, unsure of what to ask
for.  "Jed, Jed.  That's so good."

"Oh, yes."

Somehow her shirt disappeared.  Then her bra.  She cried out again and
agnin us he caressed her breasts, lifting and squeezing them gently.
Every time he came back to the centers, she felt as if tiny explotdons
were going off inside her body.

"Oh... oh The waves of sensation brought incohereat syllables to her
lips.  An ache star led deep inside her.  An ache that made her
instinctively rock her hips against him.

"That's it, honey," he crooned.  "That's it.  Do what feels good."

"What?"  she gasped.

"Anything you like."

She moved frantically agninst him, knowing her body needed
sometAing--that it wns reaching desperately for something.  If she
didn't find it, she would go mad.

Then as he socked one nipple into his mouth and tugged at the other
with his thumb and finger, she felt a knot of tension inside her break
apart.  It was us though a gateway of bliss had opened up.  She rocked
and.  pressed against him, cqdng out us a burst of sensation took her,
making her feel us if she were flying, spinning, shatter He held her,
kissed her, murmur~ words of praise as she came back to something
approaching normal.  Only normal had chq.  She would never he the same
again.

"I--I--is that what it's supposed to be like?"  she gasped, little
aftershocks of pleasure rippling through her.

"I don't know.  We'll have to try it again and make comparisons."

"We."  Her cheeks grew rosy.  "I think if Wns jUSt.  me."

He laughed a little shakily.  "How's that for iron control?"

"All in good time."

"But you"

"I wanted you to find out what that felt like."

She closed her eyes and moved her cheek against his, still caught up in
the miracle of her body's response.  "You're making this seem easy.
You're making me wonder why I was ever afraid of.  you

She turned her head and the/r lips met, caught, scaled with heat.  He
led her back along the path she'd just taken, and she was astonished at
how quickly her passion built again.  He caressed her bzensts the way
he had before, making her whimper with the pleasure of his touch.

"Jed, I want--I need"

"Yes.  Raise up a little, so I can..."

She did, and he helped her off with her panties, Ms finEers stroking
the warm, wet place that she understood was the seat of her sexual
sensations.  Then Ms briefs were gone, too.  And there were only the
t~o of them--naked on the bed.

His eyes met hers, m/staking her uncertainty for fear.  "It's okay.  We
can stop right here if you want."

"I don't want to stop.  I just don't know what to do."

"What do you want to do?"

"I want you inside me."  The words came out us a wispy gasp.

His lips and ~eth played with her ear.  "We can't travel until it's
dark again.  So we can stay in bed all day if we want to."

She felt a warm glow spread across her skin.  "I'd like-that. But..."

He raised his head so he could look down at her.  "Are you okay?  ~'

"Wonderful," she answered softly.  His lips traveled across her cheek
to her mouth.  "I just need to make a quick trip to the facilities."

He started to get up.

She gently pushed him back.  "You relax.  I'll be fine by myself."

In the act of pulling back the light covers, she realized 'she was
naked.  And that she didn't know where her clothes had landed the night
before.  And that Jed was Yying on his side with a grin playing around
his lips--watching her.

Her shirt was hanging off the end of the bed.  Quickly she snatched it
up and buttoned the front.  Feeling a bit more secure, she risked a
sideways glance at Jed as she made a search for her pants.  They were
half under the edge of the covers.  "Enjoying yourself?"

"It's a very pretty view.  Almost as good as" -- He stopped abruptly.

"As what?"

Looking like a schoolboy who'd been caught spying on the girls' locker
room, he sat up.  "As the bathing ceremony."

She stared at him, her face growing hot.  "You saw that?"

"Part of it."

"Oh, God!"

He knit his hands together.  "I knew I was going to feel like a sneak
until I fessed up.  There's a place at the top of the pyramid where the
guys watch their brides.  Sanchez sent me over there to get me out of
the way while John son put the bomb in our honeymoon cottage."  Marissa
made a strangled exclamation.

"One of the women looked up at me for an instant and clued me in.  I
started wondering what Sanchez was up to, and I knew I had to get back
to the hacienda."  He swallowed.  "But it wasn't easy tearing my eyes
away from you standing there in all your glory."

"You saw"

"Come here."  His voice was rough.

Uncertainly she crossed to the bed and let him draw her down into his
embrace.

His lips nuzzled her hairline.  "You're embarrassed."

"Wouldn't you be?"  "Sure."

"You didn't hear what I talked about with Madre Flora, did you?"

"No.  That must have been before I arrived."

She relaxed a fraction.

"There are lots of an dent customs that modern man dismisses as
primitive.  But sometimes it's a good idea to go back to our roots."

"Are you quoting Sodology 101?"

He laughed.  "No.  The way I look at it, you and I were lucky to get a
chance to participate."

"Maybe," she allowed, her voice soft as she thought about the
soul-searching interview with the wise woman.  Madre Flora had helped
her sort out her feelings about Jed.  But she wasn't ready to talk
about that conversation with him yet.

"So do you want me to come help you bathe?"

"No!"  She wasn't ready for that, either.  "Then hurry back."

He was still watching her as she found her slacks and shoes and started
toward the door.

"Take the revolver.  And watch out for wildlife."

Marissa nodded.  If she'd been a little more clearheaded, she would
have thought of the weapon herself.

"There's a barrel of water in a screened area outside.

Soap and towels are in the supply boxes.  "

"Thanks."

Finally equipped, she stepped out the door and closed it behind her.
The early morning was cool and foggy, typical of the jungle.  In a few
hours the sun would burn off the mist, and the heat would start to
build up.

Alert for animals or humans, Marissa followed the short trail they'd
taken the night before After visiting the outhouse, she found the
primitive bathing facilities and washed quickly.  Despite what she'd
told Jed, she wasn't perfectly comfortable out here by herself.
Especially with her clothes Off.

The spider monkeys set up a loud chat~r again.  Looking up, she saw
them swinging from branch to branch, moving rapidly toward a large
kapok tree.  Had Jed come out and shooed them away?

Turning, she started back toward the house, her eyes scanning the
underbrush.  Her gaze collided with the fender of a jeep almost hidden
from view.

Had it been there when she and Jed arrived last night?  Moving closer,
she gingerly touched the hood.  It was hot.  Not from the sun.  From
the engine.

Despite the heat radiating from he~ fingers, goose bumps surfaced up
and down her arms.  Someone else had found this place.  Someone who
didn't want them to know.

Her heart in her throat, she tiptoed back to the house, being careful
to make as little noise as possible.  She arrived in time to see a man
standing in the doorway.

In the split second before he disappeared inside, it registered that he
wasn't Jed.  He was too short.  And his hair was black instead of
sun-streaked blond.

Chapter Fifteen

Marissa's mouth fell open when she realized who had stepped into the
hut.  It was Pedro Harara, the banker.  He'd exchanged his usual
broad-shouldered suit for peasant garb.  What in the name of heaven was
he doing here?  And how had he figured out where they were?

Caution sent her to the side of the building.  Screened by a small
palm, she peered through one of the chinks in the bamboo wall.  She
could see Jed on his feet, shirtless and buttoning his pants.  Harara
was standing just inside the doorway pointing a pistol in his
direction.

"Where's the grin ga bitch?"  he demanded in a voice he might have used
to tell a delinquent loan holder he'd either have to pay up or go into
bankruptcy.

"I don't know anyone who fits that description."

Harara jerked the gun at Jed.  "Don't play games with me."

"If you happen to be referring to Marissa, she's not here," Jed said
between clenched teeth.

Harara looked around the room, taking in the supplies on the table, the
rumpled bed and the clothing on the floor.  Being careful to keep the
weapon trained on Jed, he reached down and scooped up Marissa's bra
from the floor.  Dangling it in the air, he fingered the silky fabric.
"I presume this isn't yours.  Unless you've been hiding some rather
kinky proclivities."  He laughed.  "Is that why you were fired from
your undercover job?"

Jed's eyes narrowed, but he didn't bother to answer.  "Did you have a
good time in bed with her last night?  Your wedding night, actually.
You have the right kind of arrangement.  Enjoy her while you're here.
Then dump her."  '

He didn't succeed in provoking Jed, who remained silent.

Marissa wiped her sweaty palm on her pants.  Shifting her grip on the
revolver, she tried to decide what to do.  She could probably maneuver
in back of Harara, since his attention was focused elsewhere.  But he'd
still have a shot at Jed, and she couldn't risk that.

"I've heard she's frigid," Harara said conversationally.

Marissa locked her teeth together to keep from giving her presence
away.

"Did you spend some time warming her up or just go ahead and take your
pleasure with her?"

Jed stood like a stone.

Harara's expression changed.  "If you don't want to brag about your
wedding night, that's one thing.  But there's still the question of
where she is now.  Mayhe you're planning to tell her sister you
couldn't get her out of Sanchez's compound alive.  I assume the deal is
that you get to keep the money they paid you.  Fifty thousand dollars
is a nice piece of change."

Marissa'$ sicin went cold.  Jed hadn't said anything about getting paid
to rescue her.  But now that someone had mentioned a cash payment, it
made sense.

A terrible wave of hurt and betrayal swept over her, cutting off her
breath.  Sl~'d been so grateful to Jed for re~uing her.  And all along
he'd done it for money.  A lot of money.

In some corner of her mind a tiny voice argued that she wasn't exactly
being reasonable.  She and Jed hadn't been close before he arrived at
the hacienda.  Why should he risk his life for a woman who'd gone o6t
of her way to keep him at arm's length?

Yet she simply couldn't make herself deal with her roiling emotions in
cool, logical terms.  She'd opened her vulnerable heart to Jed.  She'd
trusted him with her deepest, most damaging secrets.  She'd given
herself to him, body and soul.  Now she felt a terrible choking
sensation as she tried to come to grips with what sounded like
beUayal.

Please, tell him you love me.

When Jed finally spoke, he made it sound as if she were nothing to him.
"Congratulations," he answered in a gritty voice.  "You figured it out.
She's dead."

She held back a gasp.  Jed was putting on an act.  An act to fool
Harara into dropping his guard.  Yet she couldn't shrug off the sick,
shaky feeling that had taken her over.  It was like the way she'd been
in the pitch-dark room before she'd climbed over to Jed's balcony.  She
was reacting the way she'd been conditioned to react for years.  "Oh?"
the banker asked.

"She had an unfortunate accident early this morning?

"Show me the body."  Harara stepped aside and motioned with the gun.

Jed walked to the door.  "Sure."

"Keep your hands in the air."

Jed glanced at the machine gun in the corner, but he obeyed the curt
order.  "How do you know about the money?"

"When you've got a solid base of operation in the international
financial community, you can find out about anything that has to do
with money.  I've had a team of computer experts digging up every scrap
of information

I could get on you.  You deposited fifty thousand dollars in your bank
account he fore you left Baltimore.  And you arranged to rent several
properties in San Marcos and have them stocked with supplies.  You
probably think you covered your tracks by working through third
parties.  But my computer analysts were able to match withdrawals from
your account to local transactions.  I checked here first, since this
is the hideout closest to Sanchez's fin ca

Marissa listened, the sick feeling inside her expanding as the men
moved out of her line of sight but not out of her hearing.  It was
terrible to listen to Jed sounding so convincing.

"You went to a damn lot of trouble to get a fix on me," Jed remarked as
Mariaaa edged along the side of the building.

"Don't flatter yourself.  You're just small time.  I've been monitoring
my good friend Miguel's transactions for years.  And now I've got
something on him I can Use.  I know he's buying diamond mining
equipmenL My plans didn't include the grin ga blabbing about it."

"So were you the one who turned her in that night at the reception?"

"No..I assume it was Cladta.  Miguel told her she couldn't come to the
party because she'd made a scene several times before.  So she was out
on the patio watching the festivities.  Luckily for me."

"What happened to her last night?  In the explosion."

"Why waste your time worrying about her?"  "I used to like her."

"" She's in the hospital.  I think she's going to be okay.  Physically.
Mentally.  " He shrugged.

"Since you've studied my deposits and withdrawals, you know I'm for
sale to the highest bidder," Jed observed.  "And you do owe me a favor
for swinging your bank a big loan hat year.  Let's see what else we can
work out now

"?dtcr I'm satisfied your bride is out of the picture."  Madssa saw
that Jed had chosen a Wail that led away from the place where she was
supposed to be.  As he made his way through the jungle, he stepped on
several fallen sticks, cracking them loudly in half.

The part of her mind still functioning on a rational level knew that he
was trying to warn her--and that he assumed the banker was planning to
kill him as soon as he saw the body.  When Harara found out Ied was
stalling for time, the result would he the same.

Struggling to stay calm, she looked around for something to distract
Harara.  Someone had discarded a p'ge of giant seed pods near the
corner of the house where she was standing.  Picking one up, she hefted
it in her hand.  It was fairly heavy.  If she heaved it into the
bushes, would Harara turn?  If he did, she could take a shot at him.

She was about to step into the open when a noise from the other
direction made her freeze.  Seconds later, to her astonishment,
another' figure glided out from behind a screen of trees, Uzi in
hand.

It was William John.  son.  She stood like a statue, aware that if
she'd come out of hiding a split second sooner, he'd have seen her.

"Drop the gun and turn around slowly," he called to Harara.  "And,
Prentiss, you stay where you are."

Harara didn't follow orders.  Inslead, he pivol~l to face the newcomer
and fired off a shot.  As Johnson cursed and ducked, the banker dodged
into the underbrush, palm fronds hiding him from view almost at once.

Jed threw himself behind the nearest tree as Johnson recovered his
presence of mind and squeezed off a burst of shots in the direction of
the fleeing figure.  Bullets slashed through broad leaves.  But Harara
didn't slacken his pace.  Marissa could hear him crashing headlong
through the dense vegetation.  Just as she was sure he was going to
make his escape, a bloodcurdling scream split the air.

Johnson hesitatzxi, looking from the direction of the anguished eryto
the place where Jed had disappeared.  He went after Jed.

"Help me," Harara wheeT~, his voice rising in panic and then choking
off in an anguished gurgle.

Was it a trick?  Would he come charging out of the bushes as soon as
Johnson turned his back?

Marissa didn't know.  But she had to act quickly.  Praying that her
left-handed aim would be accurate, she heaved the seed pod at Johnson.
It struck him a glancing blow on the shoulder, enough to make him curse
and turn to his left.

She was about to fire when Jed leaped out from behind the tree and
brought the other man crashing to the ground.  The machine gun flew out
of Johnson's reach.  Madssa sprint~l forward, picked it up and backed
away from the fighting men, who were now locked together and rolling
across the group.

"Stop!"  she shouted.

Neither combatant paid any attention.

Johnson got his arms up and wrap~ his hands around Jed's neck.

Jed gasped, and Marissa watched in horror as his face darkened.  She
was going to have to take a chance and fire.  Heart blocking her
windpipe, she held the gun extended in both hands and tried to sight a
clean shot.

Then ~Ied managed to jab at the other man with his knee.  The mining
engineer bellowed and loosened his hold.  Jed wrenched away and landed
a punch on Jolmsofts jaw.  Stunned, the other man went still for
several seconds.  Marissa darted in and brought the butt of the

'

gun down on the back of his head.  He groaned and collapsed lira ply on
top of ed.

Coughing, ed shoved the deadweight away and sat up.  For several
seconds he could only suck in great gulps of air.

"Are you all right?"  Marissa asked.  Kneeling beside him, she gently
touched the finger 'marks on his neck.  The skin was red.  Later it
would be bruised.

"I'm okay.  What about you?"  he wheezed.

"Okay," she whispered, not trusting herself to say more.

He took her in his arms.

She held herself stiffly, wanting to melt against him.  But the hurt,
frightened part of her spirit wouldn't let her.  She'd wakened this
morning happier than she'd ever been in her life.  Now she felt as if
sharp knives had slashed her insides.

"I'm sorry," he rasped.

"For what?  You didn't know either one of them was coming."

"You were outside the hut.  You heard us talking.  I know what you're
thinking now."  ~She couldn't hold back a small sound that started as a
sob.  She managed to turn it into a snort.

"Marci.  I"

"We've got to find out about Harara.  Maybe that scream was just a ruse
and he's waiting his chance to come back."

Jed muttered a curse under his breath.  "You're right, even if you've
got the wrong reason.  But as soon as we find out what happened to him,
we'll talk."

She nodded again, because she knew that if she spoke, it would be
impossible to hold back her tears.

Jed Danced from Harara, s untidy~ trail to the unconscious man on the
ground.  "I'd hate to 'have Sleeping Beauty wake up and come after us."
As he spoke he reached into Johnson's pocket.  "Thought I felt these!"
he said as he pulled out a pair of handcuffs.  Deftly he rolled the man
over and secured his hands behind his back.

Marissa stood and stared toward the recently cut path through the
foliage.  She could see nothing.  Hear nothing.  But she sensed
something bad was out there waiting for them.  ~Either it was Harara or
whaler had made him scream.  Jed stepped in front of her.  "I'll go
first.  Give me the Uzi."

Marissa handed over-the machine gun.  She wanted to hold on to Jed. She
contented herself with clutching the butt of the pistol and following
him as he moved cautiously through the trees, scanning the foliage for
signs of danger.

Every time a leaf brushed against her face she felt a shiver go down
her spine.  Half expecting a wild animal to leap out from behind each
new tree, she tried to penetrate the dim light.  But she could see only
a few feet into the tangle of vegetation.

When Jed halted suddenly, she almost bumped into him.

"Over there."

She looked where he was pointing and saw a pair of legs stretched in
front of them.

"Pedro?"

There was no answer.

Jed cautiously approached.  Marissa followed.

Before he'd taken two steps he stopped in his tracks and swore,
grabbing Marissa's arm to keep her from moving forward.

"What?"

He pointed to what looked like a vivid red-and-pink ribbon almost
hidden by one of the pants legs.

Marissa sucked in a sharp breath and took an automatic step back as she
stared at the beautifully colored strand.  That was no innocent ribbon!
It was a coral snake, its bite an almost immediate death sentence, and
Harara must have fled directly into its path.

She shuddered and clutched at Jed's shirt to hold him back.  "Stay away
from it!"

'~Don't worry.  " Looking around, he found a dead branch hanging from a
nearby tree and pulled it down.

Heart pounding, Marissa watched as he lifted up Harara's leg with the
end of a stick.  When the snake wiggled, he beat it with the improvised
weapon.  Marissa turned her face away.

The snake had stopped moving when Jed gingerly lifted it away and flung
it into the underbrush.  Then he turued the banker over.  He was
already dead, his mouth open in a silent scream, his face swollen.

Marissa shuddered, thinking that it could have been her a few days ago
when she'd fled through the jungle.

"It couldn't have happened' to a ulcer guy.  Except may he Johnson,"
Jed said harshly.  "And speaking of snakes, we'd better see if he's
come around."

She nodded tightly.

"You think I did it for the money," he accused, star fling her by
changing subjects too abruptly.

"Did what?"

"Came back to San Marcos to rescue you."

"Didn't you?"  She turned away and started up the flail, running away
so he couldn't continue the conversation.

He kept pace with her.  "That was part of it.  " I wasn't going to risk
my neck for free, not after the' way you'd treated me all these years.
But I wouldn't have agreed if I didn't care about you.  For that
matter, I wouldn't have spent a couple of days in Santa Isabella
finding out what had happened to you.  And I wouldn't have gone to
Baltimore to tell your sister.  " He was breathing hard as he finished
the declaration.

'"Maybe you needed the job."  She kept her back to him, afraid that she
was going to cry.  To fend off the tears, she drew on every defense
mechanism she'd ever learned.

"Damn you, stop running away and let me explain."  "I don't want to
hear it!"

"I thought you'd changed," he said in a voice that seemed to issue a
challenge.

"You were wrong," was all she could get out.

They had reached the clearing.  Marissa gestured toward Johnson, who
was struggling to sit up.  "We've got-other problems to deal with."

When Johnston spotted them he tried to move away but only succeeded in
toppling to his side.

Jed righted him and hauled him against the trunk of a tree.  "We're
going to have a little chat."

"I don't think so."

"You may find you want to cooperate.  Unless you'd like to spend the
rest of your life rotting in a San Marcos prison."

"And who's going to put me there?"

"Sanchez."

"You think he's going to take the: blame for trying to cheat his
countrymen out of- a fortune?"

"Marissa entered the conversation, her voice harsh.  It felt good to
focus her anger on Johnson.  She knew exactly how to deal with h/re.  "
You're the one who's going to be his scapegoat.  He'll have to explain
why he was keeping a diamond mining operation secret.  And he'll
convince everyone you used him.  You'll end up in front of a firing
squad and there will be no one charging onto the field to sweep you out
of the way of the bullets.  Unless you turn the tables on him.  "

Marissa could see by the panic in his eyes that he'd heard the story of
her own eleventh-hour rescue.

"I'm listening."

"All right, this is what we're going to do," she said, noting that she
had both Johnson's anded's complete attention.

MA~SS~"S HEAm~ SLAM StUD against her ribs as she followed William
Johnson down the dark, silent hall to the room where she'd been
arrested the week before.  Behind her, a third pair of footsteps
clicked on the tile floor.  " Jed.  Even if she couldn't talk to him
about their personal relationship, she was reassured that he was
covering her back.  He was a good man to have on your side.  At least
she was willing to admit that much.

She squeezed her eyes shut for just a moment while she forced the focus
of her thoughts away from anything personal and back onto their present
mission.  God, she wished Jed or somebody else had told her this plan
was demented.  But he'd gone along with her proposition and made some
astute suggestions that put the icing on the cake.  Still, she knew
that the two of them could be risking everything if the operation hit
an unexpected snag.  There had been so little' time to think everything
through.  They'd been forced to act quickly before Sanchez figured out
what they were up to.

But at least they'd gotten this far with no problem.  The guard at the
door hadn't questioned Johnson's authority to get them inside.

They reached El Jefe's office, and Marissa heard the mining engineer
suck in a deep breath.  He was as nervous as she.  Had he figured out
some last-minute double cross that would' get her and Jed killed?  Or
was he worried that Sanchez was going to come swooping down on them
like a falcon from the clouds--tearing all of them to bits with razor
talons?

The door closed behind them, and she felt the walls of Sanchez's
private office close in around her.  Like the night of the party when
she'd been boxed up and delivered to a prison cell.  Only this time
she'd dragged Jed in with her.  If anything went wrong, he'd get
captured, too.

They'd almost reached the most dangerous moment of this whole
operation, and Jed had insisted on being the one to take the biggest
risk.

She glanced up to find him looking at her, and the mixture of pain and
determination in his eyes made her heart squeeze.  Even now, even when
she knew it was all over between them, she wanted to reach for his
hand.  But she hadn't been able to let herself unbend with him since
the scene with Harara at the hut.  Emotionally, there was no way she
could take that risk.

Jed held her gaze for another long second.

"You shouldn't have expected so much from me," he mutt card Then he
turned his back and strode past her toward the LITTLE bathroom where
she'd hidden the film and the camera.  She heard him lifting off the
top of the toilet tank.

Her mounting tension made it almost impossible to breathe.  Even though
she'd been subliminally waiting for it, the sound of the door crashing
open made her gasp.

El Jefe stepped into the room, backed up by a contingent of armed
guards.

Chapter Sixteen

"Got you," he snarled.  "Come out with.  your hands up.  Or my men will
shoot your bride," he called to Jed.  "And don't bother to hide the
film of the incriminating documents.  I know she put it in the toilet
tank."  Marissa pressed a hand against her mouth.

Jed stepped out of the bathroom, his arms above his head, the plagtic
bag dangling from one hand like a flag of surrender.  Sanchez snatched
it out of his grasp and stuffed it in his pocket.  ~

Marissa backed away from him.  Being in the same room with E/.  lefe
again made her hands tremble, and she pressed them against her sides.

He looked at her and grinned.  "You should have left the country while
you could.  Your security was inadequate.  My loyal friend managed to
get in touch with me when you left him alone for a few minutes."  He
gestured toward Johnson.

The mining engineer moved to Sanchez's side, and the general clapped
him on the back.  "Well done."  Johnson looked uncomfortable.

"He's not your friend.  He's your business partner," Marissa corrected,
trying to keep her voice steady.  "In a scheme to cheat your country
out of millions of pesos."

El Jefe's gaze narrowed.  "So you're the one who broke in to the
building with my diamond mining equipment7 I must say, you had a very
unusual wedding night."

"Yes.  Too bad we missed your explosive finale," Jed snapped.  "If we'd
stayed in your guest cottage, we'd have been blown to bits."

"That wasn't my idea."

Johnson reddened.

"But you went along with the plan," Jed clarified.  Sanchez managed to
look regretful.  "I wanted to trust you, amigo.  But I couldn't.  It's
unfortunate you had to fall in love with Senorita Devereaux.  I saw it
bloom on your face like a hibiscus flower unfurling in the first
morning light.  You put her life above yours, and that was too
dangerous for me."

Marissa went rigid as the general's words sank into her mind, sank into
every cell in her body.  Had she heard him right?  Had he really said
that he knew Jed loved her?  She drew in a strangled breath and turned
toward Jed.  He was gazing at her with an intensity that made her heart
skip a beat and then start up in double time.  When her eyes met his,
he looked quickly away--like a man unable to face the destruction of
everything he holds dear.  She understood in that blinding instant that
the general had spoken the truth.  And she'd been an utter fool.

Nothing else existed in the room besides Jed.  She started toward him.
But he was already speaking to Sanchez again.  And she realized with
sick desperation that she might not get another chance with the man she
loved.

"Now that you've got us, at least tell me what documents she found in
your files," Jed demanded.  "Your agreement with Johnson to develop the
diamond mines and steal the profits from San Marcos?"  El ]ere
shrugged.  "I'll have to read the text to be sure.  I have notes about
the diamond mining operation, yes.  Also my plans for having President
Palmeriz declared  incompetent so I can use the eighty-sixth amendment
to our constitution to legally take over the government.  I had the
amendment pushed through several years ago.  It allows the cabinet to
elect an interim successor."

"You?"

"Of course.  But you've asked enough questions, It's time to get on
with the good part."  He grinned at Johnson.  "I like your idea of
having a crew from the.  Television Nacional film the capture of these
two American spies."  He opened the door and Marissa saw a cameraman,
sound engineer and lighting technician standing in the hall.  "We're
ready for you now."

All but one of the guards withdrew as the men began setting up their
equipment.  Sanchez ordered Marissa to Jed,s side.  She stood rigid,
her heart thumping, her mouth so dry she could hardly swallow.

"Jed, I'm sorry," she whispered, pressing her shoulder against his,
knowing in her heart that anything she said was inadequate.  She was
bursting with the need to turn and take him in her arms--to tell him
she loved him.  To make things right between them if that was still
possible.  But they were trapped here.

Sanchez came out of the bathroom where he'd been combing his hair in
preparation for his performance.

"Let me do a test," the sound engineer said.  He pressed a button and
the conversation they'd been having about diamond mines and attempted
murder began to play back.

"You fool," El.  Icrc bellowed.  "Erase that part."

"Too late."  A new, authoritative voice answered the general.  "It's
already been transmitted to the station, ready for broadcast when I
give the signal.  Thanks to the plans worked out by Senor and Senora
Prenfiss."

Sanchez whirled toward the door and found himself facing President
Palmeriz, who stood with his shoulders back and his eyes glittering. He
was flanked by Thomas

Leandro, Louis Rinaldo and a contingent of municipal police.  One of
the officers disarmed the general's guard.  The rest surrounded
E1Iefe.

As it dawned on Sanchez that he'd been trapped, his mouth dropped open
and his eyes widened, making him look like a bug impaled on a specimen
card.  His gaze shifted rapidly from Palmeriz to Johnson to Jed and
Marissa as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

The chief executive permitted himself a small smile as he enjoyed the
expression on his rival's face.  "In the past you've managed to hide
your illegal activities.  But this time you've just hanged yourself.
We've got the proof on tape.  Not just a sound recording, but video
from your surveillance camera."

"No!"  Sanchez bellowed~ completely out of control.  As he kicked at
the men trying to restrain him, the toe of his boot collided with a
chair leg, and he yelped in pain.  "Your gout acting up?"  Marissa
inquired.

Somehow her cool voice got through to him.  He turned and glared at
her.  If looks could kill.  Marissa shivered as the old cliche leaped
into her mind.  Jed put a protective arm around her shoulders- and drew
her against his side.

Marissa looked at him, seeing that his face reflected a mixture of
anger and regret, and she felt a stab of pain for him.  Once he and
Miguel Sanchez had been friends.  But she knew their wildly different
values must have made the relationship an uneasy one for Jed.  Then the
general's murderous plans had proven he put his own interests before
anything as trivial as friendship.

Jed pulled the film from the general's pocket and handed it to
Palmeriz.  "More evidence."

Sanchez growled low in his throat like a cornered dog.  "Your
stranglehold on the country is over," Palmerix said.  "But there's one
way you can keep from being arrested."

, Sanchez straightened his shoulders.

Jed's eyes were cold.  "Ask Marissa to give you the details."

She looked at him in astonishment.  She and Jed had hashed out the
arrangement with the president after he'd agreed to the plan.  But'
she'd assumed Palmeriz would want to do the talking'espeeially in a
country where the men jealously guarded their prerogatives.  What kind
of private deal had Jed struck with the president to get her such
power?  The implications were overwhelming.

Her vision blurred, and she struggled to keep from going to pieces.

"You earned it," he told her.

No.  She'd made a mess of her assignment.  And he'd bailed her out.

The president smiled at her.  "After the way General Sanchez treated
you, honor demands that you deliver my termS."  '

"I won't hear it from her!"  Sanchez growled, his manner switching to
his accustomed hauteur.

"Then rot in hell."  Jed grabbed Marissa's hand and started toward the
door.

They were almost out of the room when the general called them back in a
voice that had lost a great deal of its solidity.  "Wait."

Marissa turned slowly, aware that all eyes were on her.  She should
feel jubilant now that she was the one in charge.  But she was too numb
with her own personal pain.  All she wanted was to get this finished so
she and Jed could leave.  So she could try to make him understand why
she'd stopped trusting him.

In a wooden voice she delivered the ultimatum.  "You will announce that
you have found diamond mines in one of the provinces.  And you're such
a patriot that you want to turn over the proceeds from the mining
operation to the government to alleviate some of the countty's pressing
social problems."

"But I put in the development money," Sanchez yelped.

"That makes you even more of a benefactor.  They'll probably put up a
statue in your honor," Jed observed, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"What about me?"  Johnson interjected: "I'm losing a bundle on this,
too."

"Your cooperation will he taken into consideration before charges are
filed," the president responded.  You may get off with a simple
deportation order.  "

Johnson had no time to argue further.  Two policemen escorted him from
the room.

With a bit more enthusiasm Marissa took up where she'd left off with
Sanchez.  This was the part she'd insisted on including because she
wanted to help Clarita, even though the girl had treated her like an
enemy.  And she wanted Sanchez to face up to his family problems.
"You're also donating some of your personal fortune to establishing a
state-of-the-art mental health facility for needy citizens.  You don't
have to mention that you're anxious to get your own daughter the care
she needs."

The general looked daggers at Marissa.  Yet below the surface wrath she
thought she detected a modicum of guilt--unless that was simply her own
wishful thinking.

There was one more important stipulation.  Marissa braced for a verbal
onslaught.  "You're also stepping down as commander in chief--for
health reasons."

He drew him serf up straighter and cursed her loudly, heedless that
Palmeriz looked shocked and Jed's face reddened with anger.  "That's
going too far!  I'm in per-feet health."

Jed took a step closer and brought his foot down on the general's
gout-ridden toe.  He hell owed in pain.

Jed folded his arms across his chest and stared back evenly.  Sanchez
looked away first.  "This is blackmail."

"Things could he worse," the president.  interjected.  "You don't have
to go into retirement at your age.  Senor Rinaldo has graciously agreed
to allow you to personally head the mining operation for him."

"That would mean I'd be stuck in the middle of nowhere in Junipero
Province."

"Which should help keep you out of trouble," Rinaldo muttered.

Palmeriz handed the general a statement to read to the nation in front
of the live television cameras.  Sanchez ground his teeth.  But with
the threat of exposure hanging over him, he sat down at the desk and
held the paper in his rigid hands.

At least as far as the general was concerned, Marissa felt a profound
sense of relief.  This seam had been her idea; they'd managed to pull
it off, and justice was finally being done.  But she was too tense and
worried to watch the broadcast.  All she wanted now was to be alone
with her husband.  As the film crew resumed their preparations, she
caught Jed's eye, and they slipped out of the room.

He started off down the hall at a rapid clip.  She grabbed his hand.
"Please.  We have to talk."

"All right.  I guess it might as well be sooner than later."  Grim
faced, he led her to a comfortably fur-his bed sitting room with a view
of the courtyard, He didn't give her a chance to speak first.
Immediately after the door closed behind them, he turned to her and
started in, his words coming in staccato bursts.  "Let's get this over
with.  I agreed to stay and help Palmeriz stabilize the government. But
you don't have to hang around.  There's a ticket waiting for you at the
airport on a flight to Miami this evening."

"Jed, please"

He plowed on.  "You can be back in Baltimore tomorrow.  And that lawyer
friend of yours, Laura Roswell, should be able to advise you on whether
our marriage is legal and if you need a divorce to get me out of your
life."

Marissa tried to swallow around the baseball-size lump in her throat.
"Is that what you want

"What does it matter?"  His tone was bleak.

"Oh, God, Jed."  She twined her arms around his waist and held him
close, trying to' ignore his rigid posture.  Despite her heroic
efforts, the tears she'd been fighting so hard to hold back welled up
and ran down her cheeks, and her shoulders began to shake.

"Don't.  I didn't mean to make you cry," he said with anguish.  "I
don't seem to get it right, do I?"  His hand brushed the back of her
head, clasped her for a moment and then dropped away.

She struggled to control her sobs, fighting to get out the words she
needed to say.  She couldn't let him think this mess was his fault or
that she had come in here intending to leave him.  Or perhaps that was
what he really wanted, she thought as sudden cold fear stabbed into
her.  Every self-defense mechanism urged her to cut and run.  But she
stood her ground.  She had turned away from him this morning.  The only
way she might get him back was to risk everything.  "Jed ... II ...
love ... you:' Once she'd said it, she realized how much she wanted him
to know what was in her heart.  Whatever happened next.

He went very still, surprise and hope mingling on his countenance.
"Marci?"

She lifted her tearstained face to his.  "I love you.  I don't want a
divorce."  With the back of her hand she swiped at the tracks of
moisture running down her face.  "Jed, I'm so sorry.  When Harara
started talking about the money something inside me went cold and
stiff."  She fumbled for words.  "One moment I was so happy.  The next
I was afraid of getting hurt all over again.  I was still reacting like
the old Marissa Devereaux.  The woman who was afraid to trust you.  But
I know what kind of risk you were taking to come down here and save me.
You could have bailed out any time, but you stuck with me."

"I'd never have left without you."

"You did what nobody else could.  You got me out of there alive.  But
you did a lot more than that.  You rescued me from the bleak life I
carved out for my selL And you made me ache to make our marriage real.
I want to stay married to you.  If you'll still have me."

"If I what?"  Then his mouth came down on hers--hard, possessive,
insistent.  She cleaved to him, opened to him, poured her soul into
him. And he returned the fervor, measure for measure.  When he finally
lifted his lips from hers, her head was spinning.  But she heard his
heartfelt words.  "I love you, Marci.  I thought I'd messed up.  I
thought I'd lost you forever."

"No, Jed.  No.  I'm the one who messed up.  I was too afraid to trust
my happiness.  I was afraid to tell you that I want to be with
you--always.  Our wedding ceremony was the most important thing that
ever happened to me."  She gave a wry little laugh.  "Well, maybe it's
a tossup between that and our wedding night."

His hands stroked the curve of her back, gently touched her face, her
hair as he told her wordlessly that he felt the same way.

Yet his eyes were still shadowed.  "Before you make a final decision,
don't forget about my big liability.  You're sure you're willing to be
saddled with a guy who nods off at inconvenient times?"

Her face shone with her love for him.  "If his name is Jed Prentiss."

The look of wonder on his features made her heart contract.

"Marci.  Marci."

They kissed again with aching passion.

"And don't you forget I know how to wake you up," she whispered.

"Oh, yeah."  Jed looked around, located the door and locked it.  Then
he pulled her close once more, and the~e was no mistaking his
intentions.

Her eyes widened.  "The president's out there," she whispered.  "And
the camera crew, And all the guards."

"So?  They know better than to bother a couple on their honeymoon!"  He
laughed and led her to the couch, and she stopped thinking about
anything besides the joy of being with her husba6d once more.

And there's more 43 LIGHT STREET!

Turn the page for a bonus look at what's in store for you in the next
"43 Light Street" book by , coming to you in February 1997.

PRINCI OF TIME

When Cassandra Devereaux led a clandestine mission to Alaska'$ Denali
National Park, she didn't expect to be caught in a devastating
avalanche .  or to find, miles below the earth, a sleeping naked man.
Don't miss PRINCE OF TIME, only from and Silhouette Intrigue TM

"Chapter One

One moment she was exhilarated, excited, trembling on the brink of
discovery.  In the next, there was an ominous rumble on the mountain
far above her, and Cassandra Devereaux knew she was going to die.

',"Uh2oh, we'd better get out of here," shouted Glen Fielding, her
Alaskan guide.  He was already running.

Early this morning he'd landed his float plane on a clear blue lake a
hundred miles east of Denali National Park.  And Cassle had been awed
by the rugged peaks and endless green of the Douglas firs as she and
Glen pad-died his canoe to shore and hiked a couple of miles through
the wilderness to this remote slope.

Glen was twenty feet below her and on the right, but it was already
too.  late for either of them to escape

Cassandra screamed as several tons of last winter's snow came rumbling
down the mountain like a glacier that had broken loose from its
moorings.  This wasn't supposed to happen~ Not in summer.

"She called Glen's name as he disappeared under a blanket of white.
Lumps of ice pelted against her head and shoulders as she ducked under
the shelter of a protective ledge.  The earth shook like a stronghold
under aerial bombardment, and she waited for endless minutes for the
tumbling snow and boulders to sweep her away.

As suddenly as the avalanche had started, it stopped, leaving Cassie
crouched in eerie silence.  Cautiously, she moved her arms and legs.
The worst pain she detected was in her right ankle.  But it wasn't so
bad, if she didn't put too much weight on it.  "Glen?  Glen?"  He
didn't answer.

She tried to struggle forward, tried to get to the spot where he'd
disappeared.  But she was trapped by a solid wall of white.

A choking sensation rose in Cassie's throat.  Ignoring it, she found
her pack under a rock and scrabbled through the contents, cursing when
she remembered that Glen had taken the trench shovel.  Grimly, she
started digging with her gloved hands.  But after a few minutes, her
fingers stiffened with the cold, and she could see that she was only
bringing down more snow on her head.

Breathing hard, she searched through the pack again--looking for the
two-way radio.  The case was broken.  When she twisted the dials, there
wasn't even a crackle of static.

Teeth clenched, Cassie hugged her shoulders and leaned back against the
rock wall of her prison.  At least she was alive, she told herself. For
now.

But what about Glen, she wondered with a stab of guilt.  Yesterday
she'd offered him a great-paying job.  She hadn't told him she was on a
highly classified assignment from the Department of Energy.  Instead
she'd used the cover story she and her sister, Marissa, found so
convenient, because it was partly true.  They were travel agents who
specialized in scouting out adventure locales.  And she'd been hired by
a millionaire sportsman in the lower forty-eight who wanted to climb a
mountain nobody else had tackled.

l(eoecca rorlc

As she and Glen had gotten closer to the Alaska range, her special
instruments had confirmed that there was something strange on the east
slope of one of the peaks.

"Never taken anyone here before," her guide had remarked as he set the
plane down on the water with a gentle touch.

"That's what my client wants," Cassie had replied cheerfully.

Now she fought-panic.  Nobody knew where she was.  No one was going to
come rescue her the way Jed Prenriss had saved her sister a few months
ago.  She smiled for a moment as she thought about Jed and Marci,
taking comfort from the knowledge that her sister was well and happy
with a man she loved.  At least one of the Devereaux sisters had
escaped the ravages of their childhood.

But that childhood had also made them both fighters.  And Cassie wasn't
going to give up flow.  Pulling out her flashlight, she started inching
along the ledge, squeezing around a boulder that had crashed against
the wall.  Behind it was a large indentation.  And on the ground,
shards of what might have been basalt.  Only they looked too jagged.

Cassie picked one up, running her thumb cautiously along the edge.  It
felt more like plastic than stone.  Turning she realized that light was
emanating from the hole the boulder had made.  Using her shoulder, she
tested the cracked surface.  It gave with a groaning sound, and she
stumbled through--into some sort of man-made cord-dot.  The walls were
cold metal, but they radiated a gentle amber glow like an old computer
screen.

Dear heaven!  It looked like the boulder had crashed into an escape
hatch for a secret military post.  The irony made her laugh, the sound
echoing hollowly off the tunnel walls.  So much for the Energy
Department's little mysln, y!  They were going to be angry about
spending the money to send her up here.

Cassandra expected to hear alarms ting and see guards with machine
guns.  But there was no intruder alert, only the insistent hum of
equipment deep in the earth.  "Anybody home?"

The hollow echo of her own voice answered.  Maybe this was an automated
facility.  Cautiously she limped forward, aware that the humming was
getting louder as she descended into the mountain.  Several feet ahead
the passage was pitch black.  But as she moved forward, the glow kept
pace with her, giving her an eerie sense of being ushered onward.

Yet she couldn't detect the video cameras that must be marking her
progress.  And she found herself fighting a growing sense that she'd
stepped into a science fiction movie.  The very air smelled as if it
had been processed by special purification equipment and recycled for
centu Shivering, she tried to push aside such fancies.  This place had
almost certainly been built as part of our Soviet surve'filance
network.

Her progress stopped abruptly at a flat metal door with no handle.  Now
what?  She didn't have a key card.  And there was no way her retinal
patterns or hand prints were in the computer.  Trying the old-fashioned
method, she banged on the door.  When nothing happened, sho~began to
look for a control panel.  Maybe she'd find a phone, and she could call
for help.  There had to be something!  "She couldn't have come so far
only to be shut out.

Doggedly, she went over every inch of the metal walls, thumping and
pressing and feeling for invisible seams.  She wasn't sure which random
motion had the desired effect.  But a whooshing noise made her look up
to see twin panels glide out of the way like the doors on the Starship
Enterprise.

Beyond was a yawning, profound blackness, alive with the pulsing sound
she'd been hearing since she'd entered the tunnel.  The unknown waited
for her inside, and she was afraid.  But in the end, there was really
no choice.  Gathering her courage, she crossed the threshold.

As before, the lights came up, and she saw that she was in what looked
like a control room, surrounded by banks of futuristic computers and
other equipment she couldn't identify.  In the center of the room was a
tall, enclosed space about the size of a telephone booth.

Curiosity--or perhaps it was a feeling of compulsion-drew Cassie toward
the central chamber.  Its walls were opaque and shot through with
streaks of color like mother of pearl.  Afraid, yet fascinated, Cassie
watched as they began to glow and change, becoming translucent--the
transformation coming from the top down.

The humming of the equipment increased, rising to a crescendo around
her.  But she hardly heard.  All her attention was focused on the
compartment before her.  Someone was inside.  She saw the eyes furst.
Saw the laser intensity of the piercing gaze that held her captive,
compelling her to take a step forward and then another to meet her
destiny.

Blood pounding in her ears, she stood immobile as the walls of the
chamber went through a final metamorphosis.  Bdfore her transfixed
gaze, they turned transparent as glass.  And she found herself staring
in shock at a naked man.