a little music and moonlight, sheâd be completely lost.
âThe taxiâs gone,â he explained, pointing out the obvious if sheâd just had the presence of mind to look.
Jerked back to reality, Penelope gazed at the deserted dock that had swarmed with people not half an hour before. Nighttime fell quickly in the Caribbean, and darkness shrouded the beach. âWonât it come back?â she asked tentatively, hoping heâd give the answer she wanted to hear. âItâs probably making a run to the resort.â
She couldnât see his exasperated look, but she felt it. âItâs gone back to the resort, all right, and thatâs where it will stay. It doesnât run after dark.â
âBut what about all those other boats?â she asked in bewilderment. âSurely someone could take us around?â She couldnât believe she wouldnât be sleeping at the resort tonight. It wasnât all that late. She needed to be at work first thing in the morning. All her clothes and toiletries were back there, for heavenâs sake. She certainly couldnât spend the night on the beach.
âThose are fishing boats, and all the fishermen have gone home to supper. They keep early hours. Come on. Weâd best not stand around gawking; those thugs might come back looking for us. Letâs see if Jacques can provide us with transportation.â
She was beyond exhausted as they trudged back into town. Sheâd been up before dawn, traveled a thousand miles, been accused of drug smuggling, kidnapped, and watched a mugging all in the course of one day. She just didnât have the strength for much more. If by transportation he meant another van ride down that treacherous excuse for a road, she would sleep in the streets first.
Silently cursing her lack of choice, she followed Charlieâs lead. This was all his fault. The sooner she lost this great lummox, the better off sheâd be. He was definitely what her mother called bad news.
The lights of television sets flickered through shuttered windows as they passed by. Reggae music poured from a balcony above them. Lilting voices sang from doorstep to porch and back, but she couldnât see the speakers. Uneasy in this alien environment, she edged closer to Charlieâs large presence.
He didnât take the opportunity offered to slide his arm around her, as many men would have. Now that she noticed, she realized he avoided touching her, thrusting her away quickly whenever circumstances forced them into contact. She thought that exceedingly curious considering the unmistakable look sheâd caught in his eyes more than once.
She didnât have time to puzzle over the discovery. Charlie led the way down a narrow alley to someoneâs backyard and knocked softly on the back door of a two-story concrete block structure. No one answered.
***
Cursing, Charlie tried the door. A dead bolt held it firm. He rattled it louder, hoping to stir the inhabitants, but the lack of lights in the rooms above told their story. Jacques and Antoinette had left. Why?
Stumped, he crashed his shoulder against the door, hoping to shatter the old bolt, but Jacques knew how to protect his home. The bolt didnât give an inch, but Charlieâs shoulder acquired an ache to match the one in his throbbing head.
âYou canât break in!â his companion uttered in tones of horror.
âHe promised me a place to sleep.â Charlie knew he was being obstinate, but he couldnât believe his old friend had left him out in the cold like this. Something was wrong, but his aching head couldnât muddle it out. He could only manage one thought at a time, and the one uppermost at the moment was getting rid of this female before she got hurt. After that, he could take care of himself.
âYou were going to sleep here?â she asked in disbelief.
âYeah, I didnât figure that would disappoint you
âThe taxiâs gone,â he explained, pointing out the obvious if sheâd just had the presence of mind to look.
Jerked back to reality, Penelope gazed at the deserted dock that had swarmed with people not half an hour before. Nighttime fell quickly in the Caribbean, and darkness shrouded the beach. âWonât it come back?â she asked tentatively, hoping heâd give the answer she wanted to hear. âItâs probably making a run to the resort.â
She couldnât see his exasperated look, but she felt it. âItâs gone back to the resort, all right, and thatâs where it will stay. It doesnât run after dark.â
âBut what about all those other boats?â she asked in bewilderment. âSurely someone could take us around?â She couldnât believe she wouldnât be sleeping at the resort tonight. It wasnât all that late. She needed to be at work first thing in the morning. All her clothes and toiletries were back there, for heavenâs sake. She certainly couldnât spend the night on the beach.
âThose are fishing boats, and all the fishermen have gone home to supper. They keep early hours. Come on. Weâd best not stand around gawking; those thugs might come back looking for us. Letâs see if Jacques can provide us with transportation.â
She was beyond exhausted as they trudged back into town. Sheâd been up before dawn, traveled a thousand miles, been accused of drug smuggling, kidnapped, and watched a mugging all in the course of one day. She just didnât have the strength for much more. If by transportation he meant another van ride down that treacherous excuse for a road, she would sleep in the streets first.
Silently cursing her lack of choice, she followed Charlieâs lead. This was all his fault. The sooner she lost this great lummox, the better off sheâd be. He was definitely what her mother called bad news.
The lights of television sets flickered through shuttered windows as they passed by. Reggae music poured from a balcony above them. Lilting voices sang from doorstep to porch and back, but she couldnât see the speakers. Uneasy in this alien environment, she edged closer to Charlieâs large presence.
He didnât take the opportunity offered to slide his arm around her, as many men would have. Now that she noticed, she realized he avoided touching her, thrusting her away quickly whenever circumstances forced them into contact. She thought that exceedingly curious considering the unmistakable look sheâd caught in his eyes more than once.
She didnât have time to puzzle over the discovery. Charlie led the way down a narrow alley to someoneâs backyard and knocked softly on the back door of a two-story concrete block structure. No one answered.
***
Cursing, Charlie tried the door. A dead bolt held it firm. He rattled it louder, hoping to stir the inhabitants, but the lack of lights in the rooms above told their story. Jacques and Antoinette had left. Why?
Stumped, he crashed his shoulder against the door, hoping to shatter the old bolt, but Jacques knew how to protect his home. The bolt didnât give an inch, but Charlieâs shoulder acquired an ache to match the one in his throbbing head.
âYou canât break in!â his companion uttered in tones of horror.
âHe promised me a place to sleep.â Charlie knew he was being obstinate, but he couldnât believe his old friend had left him out in the cold like this. Something was wrong, but his aching head couldnât muddle it out. He could only manage one thought at a time, and the one uppermost at the moment was getting rid of this female before she got hurt. After that, he could take care of himself.
âYou were going to sleep here?â she asked in disbelief.
âYeah, I didnât figure that would disappoint you
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