Legacy of the Highlands (35 page)

She lifted her hands to his face and saw that
the dark eyes that met hers had none of the fiery hardness that had
made Mackinnon believe he was dealing with the Devil. She felt as
if she could see into his soul. “You’re very important to me. You
know that, don’t you?” she said softly. Diego nodded and tightened
his hold on her.

She was sure that he wouldn’t rush her, that
he understood that she still grieved and would need a long time to
heal before she could ever...would ever...but he’d already
established a base camp in a small corner of her heart that could
become a permanent structure if she let it.

“Come,” he finally said. “Let’s walk. I
remember how much you like sheep and I think I hear one calling
your name. Listen. Aaaaa-lex. Aaaaa-lex. Aaaaa-lex.”

Diego’s sheep impression was absurd enough to
wipe away the heavy emotion of the past few minutes. It was a
beautiful day, rolling hills carpeted in green surrounded them, and
Diego was doing everything he could to make up for putting her
through the upsetting confrontation with Mackinnon. Inverness and
its high stakes intrigue suddenly seemed very far away.

They held hands as they strolled along the
narrow country lane to the sounds of birds chirping and sheep
bleating. “It’s beautiful here. I’m beginning to understand why
Will liked it so much,” said Diego as he kicked a small rock out of
their path. When he did the same thing again, and yet again, Alex
turned to him.

“You miss it, don’t you? Soccer, I mean.”

“Sometimes…I guess so,” he answered. Diego
was a toddler when his foot first met a ball in soccer-crazed
Buenos Aires and was a standout by the time he reached college. He
was courted by pro teams from around the world, but never
considered the sport as a career.

“Any regrets that you didn’t become the
Argentine David Beckham?”

“Becks? Well it might be fun to be him, but
that has more to do with Victoria Beckham than with the game.” His
words stung although they were accompanied by the kind of grin that
indicated he was teasing. But she didn’t like it.

“Diego?” she asked tentatively.

“Yes?” he responded, equally cautious.

“Do you think you’ll ever tell John that he’s
your biological father?”

He didn’t answer right away. “Probably not. I
mean, what’s the point? Ricardo Navarro is, and always has been, my
father. I don’t want a relationship with John and the only emotion
I feel for him is hate, although that word is probably too strong.
Loathe, despise, even pity are all in there too. If Will hadn’t
died, I would have been proud to call him my brother even if it
meant that John would have had to find out about the DNA test, but
now…no, there’s no need for him to ever know.”

“Look!” Diego suddenly exclaimed and jogged
toward a lamb that was wandering in the middle of the road. “He
must have squeezed under the fence.”

The small animal gave a plaintive cry and
looked at them. “He wants his mother. We have to help him,” Alex
said, but Diego was already crouching near the lamb trying to lure
it with a handful of grass. It took one tentative step toward him
and Diego lunged.

“Gotcha!” He wrapped his arms around its
spindly legs and buried his nose in soft wool as he picked it up.
Alex crooned to the animal and stroked its head just before Diego
hefted the struggling creature over the fence.

“I’ll never eat rack of lamb again,” he said,
as they lingered to watch the animal rejoin its mother and begin to
nurse. “We better get back to the car. I left my phone there so we
could have a few minutes of peace. Serge has probably left a dozen
messages by now. It’s time to face the firing squad.”

Serge’s detailed voicemail was brusque. “Listen and
obey for once in your life. I don’t think anyone followed you, but
you can never be sure so keep your eyes open and guard your back.
Find a remote inn and lay low for a couple of days. If anything or
anyone seems remotely suspicious, don’t investigate. I repeat, you
are not to engage. Leave immediately and relocate. Use an alias. No
credit cards, cell phones or anything else that can be traced once
you’re in place. There’s an envelope with cash in the glove box, so
no ATMs either.” He then described the three options to deal with
Will’s killers. The game was on.

Serge doubted that Mackinnon’s people owned the
sophisticated equipment needed to track down Diego and Alex, but he
never underestimated an adversary. His headstrong charge would
follow orders this time, if only to protect the woman he thought he
loved. Serge thought Diego was more in lust than in love, but the
label the attraction wore was irrelevant. Diego would fight to the
death to defend Alex. And he’d increased the odds of that happening
when he’d told the enemy that he, like Will, was a Cameron. But for
now he would have to put thoughts of them aside and switch his
focus to the mission.

Diego’s bold move had panicked Graham and
Mackinnon into acting rashly. The Argentine was a volatile loose
cannon and, even worse, the one person who threatened to connect
them to Will’s murder. Serge guessed they’d want to dispose of
Diego the same way they’d eliminated Will.

The plan the bodyguard formulated and which
Diego was likely to okay, reflected the cold, meticulous way he’d
carried out black ops as an elite agent. He reviewed how it would
play out over and over, considered every potential obstacle,
everything that could go wrong, and devised ways to deal with each.
Anticipation made him itch for action and he knew he had to calm
himself before he proceeded. His most effective weapons were a
clear mind and lightning-fast reflexes. He slowed his breathing and
began a series of gentle stretches to settle himself, his ritual
preparation for combat.

He’d already concluded that only one of the
conspirators would die. He also knew how he would do it. As for the
others, well…they’d survive if they stayed out of his way. In his
previous life, he didn’t have the luxury of knowing whether a kill
was justified — he’d simply obeyed orders. This was different. It
was personal. Diego and his parents were like family and he was
fond of Alex. From the moment she’d arrived at the Navarros’ Miami
villa, he’d witnessed the anguish the senseless murder of her
husband caused. And now Diego said he loved her. No, he’d have no
problem with this particular kill, although he wouldn’t enjoy it.
He never did. But neither would he feel any remorse.

Alex studied Diego’s face as he listened to Serge’s
voicemail, but his expression gave nothing away. “Anything I should
know?” she asked. It was obvious that something was up and she
wasn’t sure if she wanted to be told about it. Better to remain
ignorant. Knowledge would mean that whatever Serge and Diego had
cooked up had her tacit approval and she might not be able to give
it.

“No, not really,” Diego replied nonchalantly.
“He’s royally pissed off about our visit to Mackinnon’s store and
said he’d like to cut out my tongue for telling them that I’m a
Cameron. He could do it, too.”

“That’s a bit harsh. I’ve become quite fond
of your tongue,” she said and shifted to hide her blush.

“Yeah, I’m attached to it too, literally and
figuratively. Maybe we’ll have a chance to give it some use,” he
added with a slow grin that left no mystery about what he intended.
“Serge wants us to stay away from Inverness while he does his
work.”

“I wouldn’t call a few days of exile a harsh
punishment. Where will we go?” Alex asked eagerly as Diego turned
the key in the ignition, then abruptly cut the engine before they’d
moved an inch.

“Christ, my bladder is bursting,” he said
apologetically. “I should pee before we get back on the motorway. I
don’t think the sheep will mind, do you?” His eyes sparkled with
amusement as he raised her hand to his lips.

“Of course not. Go!” She could use a rest
stop herself, but since a woman’s requirements were a bit more
complicated, she’d wait until they passed a pub. She unfolded the
roadmap to figure out where they might go next.

When Diego was sure he couldn’t be overheard,
he ducked behind a tree and quickly called Serge. There was no
answer so he left a message: “Much as I hunger to join you for this
little adventure,
amigo
, you’re right that my place is with
Alex. There’s a bible verse that I can’t get out of my head,
something like: ‘Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord.’ I’ll leave
this in His hands and yours. Plan number three is my choice too. Do
it. Call me when it’s finished.
Vaya con Díos
.”

He glanced up and down the road before
starting back to the car. No one there. He would keep his eye on
the rear view mirror to watch for a tail the way Serge had taught
him.

“Better?” Alex asked as he snapped his
seatbelt closed.

“Much.”

“Good. I’ve found the perfect destination.
There’s a town called Tain that’s not too far from here and it’s
along Scotland’s Whiskey Trail. Would you like to tour the
Glenmorangie distillery so you can see how single malts are
made?”

“Whatever you want,” he replied distractedly.
“You navigate.”

What an odd reaction from a whiskey
aficionado, she thought. If he’d suggested a visit to a chocolate
factory, she’d have been bouncing in her seat. Something, probably
Serge’s message, was making him brood and they rode in silence
until she spotted the exit for Tain.

“This is beautiful!” Alex exclaimed as they
drove down the town’s narrow main street. “It’s positively
medieval. Can we wander around and maybe find someplace to eat? I
really need a ladies’ room and I’m starving.”

“Food first and then we should find a place
to stay. Would you mind if we save the exploring for tomorrow?” he
asked as he linked his fingers with hers.

“Sure,” she answered and dropped her gaze.
Diego’s hand looked and felt so right in hers. It shouldn’t, but it
did. Her heart ached to realize that it was becoming more and more
difficult to remember the feel of Will’s, a hand she’d held
thousands of times.

As they shared a platter of fish and chips,
their waiter recommended an inn a half-mile from town. He told them
to book a room quickly because the area was a favorite destination
for golfers, anglers and hill walkers. When Diego called the hotel,
the only vacancy was the honeymoon suite. The landlady told him
she’d hold it for an hour.

Rain often appears suddenly in the Highlands
and the two of them were dripping wet after a dash from the
restaurant to the car and then from the car to the Victorian
mansion, cum hotel, which would be their home for the next couple
of days.

Alex gave Diego a quizzical look when he
registered as John and Laura Matthews. As they climbed the wide
staircase to their room, she clutched his arm and forced him to
stop. “What’s with the names? What haven’t you told me?”

“It’s just a precaution. Serge doesn’t want
us to use credit cards or anything that can be traced. He probably
thinks everyone’s as good at this spy business as he is.”

She nodded and began to shiver. “I’m
freezing.”

“Me too. We’ll be warm in a minute,” Diego
promised as he unlocked the door to their suite.

Alex ran to the bathroom, grabbed a couple of
thick towels and tossed one to Diego. “You look like you went for a
swim with your clothes on,” she said as she watched rainwater drip
off him and onto the rug.

“It wouldn’t be the first time, but never
sober and never in weather like this,” he said as he ran the towel
over his hair. The fireplace’s crackling logs created some heat,
but not enough to keep Alex’s teeth from chattering.

“We should get out of these clothes and into
a hot shower before we both get sick,” he said as he headed toward
the bathroom.

Alex didn’t follow. His words immediately
triggered a vivid memory of the rainy day when she and Will had
visited Mackinnon’s shop. They’d been cold and wet when they’d
returned to their B & B and sought the heat of a hot shower and
steamy sex. She acknowledged the memory, then tucked it away as she
forced herself back to the present.
Déjà vu
be damned. That
was then, this is now. Will was gone and she had to go on with her
life. But that didn’t include getting into a shower with Diego
Navarro.

“Well?” he asked and sneezed.

“I’ll shower after you...by myself. Toss me a
robe and I’ll get out of my clothes and sit by the fire.”

“Would you like some help?”

She saw the expectant look on his face and
blurted, “Don’t even think it, smart guy.” She caught the snowy
white robe he tossed to her and couldn’t help noticing that he’d
left the bathroom door open as he stripped off his clothes. “Show
off,” she mumbled. When it was her turn she locked the door
securely behind her.

Dry and reasonably warm, they sat
cross-legged, facing each other in front of the blazing fire. While
she’d showered and dried her hair, Diego had made tea from the
supplies Scottish hotels routinely provide their guests. Alex
wrapped her hands around the steaming cup and sipped the warm
liquid slowly, content until he idly began to stroke her bare
calf.

She swatted his hand away, aware that they
both wore nothing under their robes and that he could have her
naked in a nanosecond if she allowed it. She summoned her flagging
will power. “I’m sure that there was more to Serge’s message than
you’ve told me. Don’t try to deny that the two of you have set
something in motion. The sooner you tell me about it, Navarro, the
sooner we can do whatever we’re going to do in that big canopied
bed. Now what did Serge really say and what’s he doing while we’re
here?”

“Ah, Alessandra,” he said as he leaned away
from her, “you do know how to spoil a mood, but with the incentive
you just offered, a man would be a fool not to tell you whatever
you want to know.” He paused before adding, “and I’m no fool.” The
smile he gave her carried the warmth of sunshine, although the glow
never reached his eyes.