Kat Attalla Special Edition (30 page)

BOOK: Kat Attalla Special Edition
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Jack ended his questioning. He knew he wouldn’t get an admission out of her. She didn’t know who he worked for. Little by little, she would reveal things in her own time. When her curiosity got the better of her, she would search for the answers.

Edward Santana had been too smart to put his own signature on anything. Because  Lilly’s  signature appeared on all the documents, Jack’s superiors questioned her innocence. Other bits of circumstantial evidence pointed to her as an accomplice, but that didn’t necessarily make her guilty. However, she knew something, which likely made her a dangerous liability to her boss.

 

* * * *

 

Lilly spent the rest of the day at the theater while Jack went to buy some clothes for her. Although she’d asked to accompany him, she knew he didn’t trust her. He returned to the house at six o’clock, carrying two bags.

No man had ever bought her clothes. She barely had time to check the sizes before Jack tossed them into an old suitcase. Aside from one pair of jeans, he chose the most shapeless, drab clothing she’d ever seen. Since she didn’t want to impress him, she kept her opinion to herself.

He snapped the case shut and locked it. “Are you ready?”

“I guess so. Let me check.” She glanced around the room for the possessions they both knew she did not own. “I think I’ve got everything. Did you remember to leave a note for the milkman?”

“Why don’t you put your sarcastic mouth in neutral and let it idle for a while?”

She clicked her heels together and saluted him. “Sir, yes, sir. Will that be all, sir?”

He grunted and took her hand.

She locked her fingers through his, holding tightly. A blast of fear paralyzed her. Her stomach cramped. She pulled her sweaty hand free from his.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Bathroom,” she blurted out and ran down the hall. At least he didn’t laugh or try to follow.

 

* * * *

 

Ten minutes later, Lilly joined Jack in the parlor. She still looked shaky as she leaned against a chair for support.

“Coffee?” Chantal offered.

“No, please,” Lilly moaned. Her gaze traveled to the empty scrap of embroidered material. “I’m sorry about the pillow.”

“It’s nothing. I only wish I see Jack looking like a big goose.”

Jack grunted. “We have to get moving. The ship leaves in another hour, and we still might have to get through customs.”

“Okay,” Lilly said.

Her calm agreement surprised him. He’d expected her to use her illness as an excuse to remain put. She never asked where the ship was heading or how long the job would last. Not that he could answer her. He didn’t even tell Chantal their destination.

At the door, Chantal put a hand on her arm. “This is for you.”

Lilly peeked inside the nylon bag with Jack looking right over her shoulder.

She saw the white negligee set and snapped it shut quickly. He chuckled, and the blood rushed to her face. “Am I supposed to thank you for this?”

“You just take care of my Jack,” Chantal instructed Lilly.

“He wouldn’t listen to me.”

Chantal winked at Jack. “You take care of him, anyway. It will annoy him, no?”

Lilly’s laughter warmed him. He could picture her doting on him out of spite. Although he liked the mental image of her fussing over him, he tried to shake off the dangerous thoughts. “Wait here while I get a cab.”

Jack lifted the suitcase and walked out into the cool evening air. It was the height of tourist season, and he had to wave his arms for ten minutes before finally hailing an empty taxi. He tossed the suitcase on the front seat and called for her to join him.

During the short ride to the docks she stared moodily out the window. He knew she wanted to ask where they were heading, but she didn’t say a word. Her face brightened with anticipation when she saw the cruise ships in port. Did she think they had a job on the
Love Boat
?

Jack paid the driver and escorted Lilly along the road. A chain link fence ran the length of the port, with guarded doors at each of the piers. They walked in the direction of a beautiful ship lit like a Christmas tree. Lilly smiled and turned in the direction of the pier, but he pulled her along.

“Not that one.”

“Oh,” she mumbled, unable to hide her disappointment. They continued walking for another hundred yards. He stopped, and her head jerked up. “What?”

“That’s it.”

She stared at the old fishing trawler in utter disbelief. “That’s not a cruise ship.”

“Very good. You know your ships.”

“You’ve got to be joking? You don’t expect me to work on that rickety old boat? It doesn’t look like it can limp out of port.”

“Ship. And it’s seaworthy,” he assured her, but he saw the doubt in her eyes. He handed her an envelope. “If immigration officers board the ship, you’ll have to show your passport. Let’s pray they don’t.”

He hoped to keep his whereabouts a secret without causing an international incident. The global climate of late made for tough immigration standards. Stucky had excelled at avoiding checkpoints, particularly along the
Mediterranean
. Jack’s strengths laid elsewhere.

 

* * * *

 

Lilly clutched his shirtsleeve. “What about you?”

“I need to take care of something.” Jack didn’t elaborate, and Lilly suspected the less she knew the better. He cupped his fingers around her elbow and led her to the ship. “My friend, Mustafa, will meet you on the deck.”

Lilly stumbled up the wooden ramp to the boat. The black sky sparkled with brilliant stars. A lot like the
Iowa
sky that she missed, now more than ever. She turned back, but Jack had already disappeared into the night. With a deep breath she boarded the ship. A dark-eyed man in a traditional Middle Eastern caftan came towards her.

“This way, Mrs. Murphy,” Mustafa said in fluent English.

She glanced quickly over her shoulder before she realized he was talking to her. She’d forgotten that she had to play the part of Jack’s wife.

“My husband?” Lilly, who’d feared she might choke on the lies, found the words rolled off her tongue quite easily.

“He’ll be on in a few minutes.”

“And if he doesn’t?” she wondered aloud. The thought numbed her with fear. “Then I know what to do. Do not worry, Mrs. Murphy. You will be safe. Jack has been a good friend to my family, and I will see that nothing happens to his new wife.”

Apparently Jack hadn’t been completely honest with his good friend. Mustafa led Lilly through the narrow passageways to the sleeping quarters and left her inside. The room was surprisingly cheery despite its small size. A twin bed, covered in a brightly colored, geometric print quilt, took up half the floor space. Matching ruffled curtains bordered the porthole window and added a feminine touch to the tiny bedroom. She sat down on the edge of the mattress, praying that she wouldn’t be expected to share the room with Jack.

After her five-minute inspection, she felt the room close in on her. Where was Jack? Surely he must have tried to board. She worked herself into a state while her wild imagination left her fearing the worst. When he finally did walk in the door, she couldn’t decide if she wanted to throw her arms around him or smack the silly smirk off his face.

“You scared the life out of me. What took you so long?”

“Were you impatient for me, baby?” He kicked the door shut and sat down on the bed next to her.

“You conceited snake,” she grunted and turned her back to him. She must have been crazy to worry about him. If the man fell overboard, she should feel sorry for the sharks. “Give me my clothes and get out of here.”

He dropped the suitcase on the floor and grinned. “Out of here? This is my room too, darling wife.”

 

Chapter
Four

 

 

Lilly gaped at Jack as if he were the devil himself. “You’re not sleeping here with me. There’s only one little bed.”

“How many beds does a honeymooning couple need? Mustafa insisted we use the room. I couldn’t insult his hospitality.”

She sucked in a deep breath, looking as if she were about to explode. Before she got a single word out, he pushed her onto the bed and covered her mouth with his hand. He slid on top of her and caught her wrists in his other hand. The length of his body kept her firmly in place as she tried to twist out from under him.

“Listen to me, you stubborn little brat. We have a charade to play out here. Do you understand?”

He tightened his grip and lowered his head so their faces were inches apart. He wanted to frighten her. By the startled look in her eyes, he’d accomplished his goal.

His patience had reached its limit. They couldn’t afford to draw attention to themselves. Screaming at her new husband was not his idea of keeping a low profile.

Lilly gasped for air. He lifted his hand long enough for her to catch a breath before covering her mouth again. “Are you going to keep quiet?” he asked.

She nodded slowly. He removed his hand from her mouth but kept her wrists pinned above her head on the bed.

“Get off me.” He heard the fury in her hushed voice.

“You are going to play the part of the happy bride or, I promise, I’ll make you look the part of a satisfied one. Is that clear?”

“Crystal clear.”

“If I give you a playful pat to your bottom in front of those men, you will pretend you enjoy it. If I touch you, you will not push me away. Have you got that too?”

She fought back the tears that filled her eyes. A strange heaviness settled in his chest. Guilt was a useless emotion, so why did he feel the need to explain himself to her? And why was it so important that she understand?

She blinked, and a silvery drop of water streamed down her cheek. As he tried to brush it away, she jerked her head to one side. “Lilly.”

“I said I understand,” she choked out.

He shook his head. “No, you don’t. I don’t want to hurt you or scare you, but our survival depends on arousing no one’s suspicion. To those men, you are my wife. If you go around acting like you hate the sight of me, they’re going to wonder why I married such a shrew. That would only leave great sex as a motive. So make a decision. Did I marry you for your sweet charm or your seductive body?”

“Since neither one is a prize, it’s a moot point.”

He laughed and rolled off of her. He wished he could prove her wrong on both counts. When they got back to the States, he might do just that. For now, he’d settle for the fact that she understood the stakes and would play the game.

She sat up and straightened her clothing, staring at the floor.

“I know it’s difficult. But with the exception of tonight, which is for show, I’ll be working the night shift, and you’ll be alone in this room. Okay?”

She nodded and wiped a hand across her face. “How long are we going to be on this boat?”

“A few days. We’ll get off when they make their return to Tangier.”

“Is it safe here?”

“Once we get out of port, we couldn’t be safer. You’d better get some sleep. You have to start breakfast at five o’clock.”

She pushed her hair over her shoulder and peered out through her lowered lashes. “I don’t know how to cook Moroccan food.”

“Cook what you know. They’ll eat anything. Just make sure there’s enough.”

“Okay. But if they mutiny, you’re going overboard with me.”

“You can count on it, baby. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

A soft laugh mingled with a hiccup. “Could I get rid of you for ten minutes while I change?”

He rolled his eyes and left her in the room.

Lilly opened the suitcase and picked through the clothing. She would not share a bed with Jack while wearing that silky number Chantal had given her. With his ego, he would assume she wanted to impress him. She found what she needed in a gray fleece sweat suit.

With Jack pacing in the hall, she dressed quickly. She reached for the door, but his deep voice stopped her. He was speaking to someone, and she thought she might learn something valuable by eavesdropping.

“Maksoofa?” Mustafa asked.

“No. She said she had some kind of surprise for me.” Jack returned smoothly. The man was an accomplished liar. She deserved the dirty little laugh the men shared. Eavesdroppers never heard good things about themselves.

If Jack wanted her to play a part, she would give a performance worthy of an academy award. “Oh, Jack. I’m ready, honey,” she called out. She switched off the light and jumped on the bed.

The door clicked open. “Good night,” he said to Mustafa and walked in the room. As the door closed behind him, he reached for the light.

“Are you surprised, honey?”

She doubted she could have looked less appealing. The shapeless sweat suit made even her body look sexless. She wore no makeup. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she had slipped on a pair of tortoiseshell sunglasses. “Welcome to the honeymoon in hell.”

BOOK: Kat Attalla Special Edition
5.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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