Maureen Child - One-Click Buy: October Silhouette Desire

“Well the beats are there, drumming it out loud and clear. What do you think? And before you answer I want you to know that I have no intention of asking you to leave the island to move here to accomplish any of those things.”

She lifted a brow. “You’re anticipating a long-distance marriage?”

He heard the disappointment in her voice. She was probably remembering the sort of absences her parents had endured. “Not hardly. I plan for us to live together in the Bahamas as man and wife and I will use my private plane to commute to Miami each day. It’s less than a thirty-minute flight. Some people spend more time than that on the highways to get to work.”

Her heart was filled with even more love when she said, “You would do that for me?”

He smiled and took his thumb to touch the dimple in her chin. “I would do that for us. I love you and I am determined to make things work.” He then leaned down and captured her mouth with his and she shuddered under the mastery of his kiss. Moments later, when he pulled back, she was left quivering.

“Are you with me, sweetheart?”

She reached up and placed a palm to his cheek and smiled. “All the way.”

He tightened his hold on her hand and tugged her in another direction. “Where are you taking me?” she asked, almost out of breath.”

“Home. And I think we need to cancel your flight in the morning. My heart is beating out plenty of other words that you need to listen to, so I think you need to stick around.”

Cassie smiled, totally satisfied that her heart belonged only to this man, and that it would always be that way. “Yes, I think I will stick around for another week after all, especially since my heart has a few special beats of its own, as well, Mr. Washington. And they are beating just for you.”

“Oh, God, I’m in jail.” Debbie Harris curled both hands around the bars of her cage and gave them a frustrated shake. They clanked a little and the sound seemed to echo eerily around her. “I’m a criminal. I’ll have a record.”

Her forehead thunked against the bars and the fear at the base of her throat squeezed tight, nearly shutting off her air.

Okay, Deb, she told herself firmly, get a grip. This is all a mistake. It’ll be straightened out in no time. You’re not in the Big House, for heaven’s sake.

In fact, the jail cell was more Mayberry than Oz. The whitewashed walls were clean and sparkling, and the cot was covered by a red-and-white quilt. There was a table and chair on one wall and a toilet and sink hidden behind a partition. The cell next to hers was empty and there was a closed door between her and the office where her jailer sat.

She scowled at the closed door because she couldn’t do anything else. The man who’d locked her in here had been very polite but completely uninterested in listening to what she had to say. He’d simply closed the door to her cell and left her alone to wonder what in the hell had happened to land her here.

Outside the barred window, the tropical sky was a brilliant blue dotted with huge, fluffy white clouds, and the sun’s rays fell in golden stripes across the red-concrete floor. She rested her forehead briefly against the cold bars and closed her eyes, remembering just how she’d ended up a prisoner.

After nearly four weeks on the private island, staying at the fabulous Fantasies resort, Debbie had packed her bags and headed for the tiny airstrip to go home. Back to her life in Long Beach, California. Where, it turns out, she should have stayed.

She’d filed through security along with everyone else leaving Fantasies that morning. The lines were long, even on this tiny island, as suitcases were checked while their owners moved through a metal detector.

Then she’d come to the Customs agent and everything had gone straight downhill. As he checked her passport, Debbie’d watched as his smiling brown eyes had gone flat and cold. He looked at her, checked her name again and frowned.

Interesting that despite knowing she hadn’t done a darn thing wrong, she’d instantly felt like a diamond smuggler or something. A wash of guilt and worry had smashed over her and when the agent motioned to a uniformed police officer to pull Debbie out of line, she’d felt the first jolt of real fear.

“What’s going on?” She looked at the officer who had a firm grip on her elbow as he took her aside for questioning. “Is there a problem? Can you tell me what it is?”

He didn’t speak until he got her away from the crowds. Now everyone thought she was a terrorist or something.

“You are Deborah Harris?” The officer’s voice was quiet but no less demanding.

“Yes.”

“American?”

“Yes.” She avoided looking at anyone else, but she felt their stares on her. Lifting her chin, she squared her shoulders, looked directly at the man questioning her and tried to project an air of outraged dignity.

Not so easy to do when you were scared to death.

She wanted to shout, I’m innocent, but she had the distinct feeling no one would believe her anyway.

“There seems to be some difficulty with your passport,” he was saying.

“What? A difficulty? What difficulty? It was fine when I got here.”

“I can only say what I have been told by Customs.”

“That’s ridiculous.” She tried to take it from him, but he whipped it back and out of her reach. Okay, this was fast moving from a little scary to downright terrifying. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ve done nothing wrong and I’ve got a plane to catch.”

“Not today unfortunately,” he said with a shake of his head. “If you would please come with me…”

It wasn’t an invitation.

It was an order.

Debbie seriously wished she had left Fantasies a week before, with her friends Janine and Caitlyn. If her best friends were with her, she wouldn’t be worried. Janine would make some smart-ass remark and Caitlyn would be charming the Customs guy. Between the three of them, they would have had this all straightened out in a heartbeat.

But her friends were home, each of them no doubt all wrapped up in their wedding plans. God, it had seriously been a heck of a month. They’d come to Fantasies, the three of them together, to splurge on themselves.

Each of the three friends had been engaged and then dumped over the course of the previous year. So they’d decided together to take the money they had been saving for the weddings that hadn’t happened and blow it on a treat for themselves. They’d had a wonderful time, until their threesome had slowly been splintered by the arrival of the loves of Janine’s and Caitlyn’s lives.

Caitlyn had ended up engaged to the very boss she’d come here to get away from and Janine…Debbie sighed wistfully. She’d talked to Janine only the day before and found out that her British lover had followed her home to Long Beach, California, just to propose. Now Janine was preparing to move to London, Caitlyn was planning the wedding her mother had always dreamed of and, apparently, Debbie was going to prison.

Sure. Her friends found love and she was getting a mug shot.

Life was fair.

“There’s been a mistake,” she said, digging in her heels when the officer, in his sparkling white uniform, tried to steer her through the terminal door. “If you’ll just check again…”

“There is no mistake, Miss Harris.” He was tall, with skin the color of smooth milk chocolate and brown eyes that looked at her as if she were an interesting bug. He was stronger than he looked, too. Her attempts at squirming out of his grasp failed miserably. “I am with the island security force. You must come with me.”

“But my bags-” She flung a look over her shoulder at the bustling little airport.

“Will be retrieved from the plane, I assure you.” His voice was musical, but there was no smile in his eyes. He kept walking, his grip on her elbow decidedly firm, just in case she should make a break for it.

“I’m an American citizen,” she reminded him, and hoped that tidbit of information would do some good.

“Yes,” he said as he tucked her into the passenger seat of a red-and-white Jeep. “I am aware.”

While he walked around to the driver’s side, she considered jumping out of the Jeep and making a run for it. But where would she go? Where could she go? They were on an island. The only way off was by boat or plane. She slumped in her seat and waited until he was sitting beside her to say, “What’s going on? Can you at least tell me that?”

He shot her a sympathetic look, but shook his head. “I must report to my superiors. They will decide what to do.”

“Who’re they?”

He didn’t answer her, just fired up the little car and steered it down the long road leading back to the village that spilled out at the foot of Fantasies. Wind in her face made her eyes water, but Debbie knew real tears weren’t far off. Her stomach was churning, her palms were damp, and a tight knot of fear was lodged firmly in her throat.

She was on her own.

And she had had no idea what was going to happen next.

Sighing, Debbie came up out of the memories, looked around her and fought the fear still crouched inside. It had been two hours since the guard had locked her in this cell. She hadn’t seen anyone. Hadn’t been allowed to call anyone.

What were the laws on a privately owned island? Did she even have rights? No one was speaking to her. No one seemed to care that she’d been locked away. It was as if they’d turned the key and forgotten all about her.

“I could die right here,” she muttered, looking now at the cozy little cell as if it were a dungeon with manacles hanging from its mold-covered damp walls. “Die and rot. No one would know. No one would wonder what happened to me and-”