Wrong Kind of Paradise (25 page)

corner of her mouth. He tilted his head first one way and then the other, with renewed fever. She loved the

feel of him. Every second with him was more special than the last.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I know,” she sighed between kisses.

One last fierce embrace and he turned her about with a pat on her bottom. Whatever happened, she

couldn’t lose Blac. She wasn’t sure she could choose, but she knew for certain she refused to lose him

now. Somehow, someway, she would get her father free and live to enjoy Blac’s embrace for the rest of

their lives. She only hoped the rest of their lives included more than just today.

~*~

Sneaking into anywhere in broad daylight was rash, if not impossible.

Even Mother-Nature worked against them, providing plenty of sunshine and clear skies. Not a grey

cloud in sight. Rigo Santiago tugged the wide brim of his hat down over his eyes. He scanned the entrance

to the lieutenant’s home. The eight-foot wrought-iron gate and brick wall impeded any real view of the

house. What he could see didn’t look promising. People milled around everywhere, a few guards, several

gardeners, and a maid on the front porch sweeping off the dust. The stables sat directly to the left of the

house where several grooms loitered about.

Rigo made a quick motion with his hand and continued down the cobbled street. The click of his

boots sounded loud in the serenity of the quiet drive. He crossed the street, walked parallel to the brick

wall before melding into the brush and trees next to the house.

Seconds later, Bruno appeared behind him. For a man of his extreme size, he could be as silent as a

rat.

They made their way to the rear of the yard where there was less activity and scurried over the

brick wall. Dropping to the ground, Rigo scanned the area and dashed to the storage building several feet

away.

They hunkered down and made several hand signals. Bruno motioned toward the back door. Rigo

shook his head. “Too obvious.”

He inspected the rear of the manor and pointed to the opened window on the far right corner of the

house. Slinking from tree to tree, Rigo dove behind the enormous fountain in the courtyard, hunching down

as low as he could go. This was madness. They would never be able to make it inside the house without

being caught.

When Bruno thudded down beside him, the giant’s hat was littered with leaves and debris. The

black man smashed his fist into his palm and pointed to the door. Rigo shook his head. “No, we can’t just

go in there and smack some heads together. Number one, we’re outnumbered, and number two, we’ll ruin

Blac’s well-laid plans. Remember, he’s supposed to be drawing the attention off of us, lack-brain.”

Rigo crossed to the corner of the house in about four strides and hovered there, peering around the

corner to make sure it was clear. Nothing stirred on the side of the house and he waved a hand to Bruno.

Bruno smacked against the brick wall. “What happened to your grace?”

The big black man shrugged.

“You’re just upset you don’t get the chance to go in there a smack someone around, so you’re

deliberately trying to sabotage this mission.”

White teeth flashed against the dark face in a boyish grin.

Rigo rolled his eyes and knelt low. He peered over the edge of the window to look inside the

house. It was the empty study. He pulled himself inside and stepped carefully to the left. Bruno entered

next, but his large head bumped into the window frame.

Rigo ducked and put a finger to his lips.

Bruno frowned, rubbing the spot.

Seconds ticked by and no alarms sounded, so he moved to the door and cracked it open. Listening,

he heard muted voices but nothing close enough to indicate anyone was in this vicinity of the house. So he

opened the door just a little more and plastered one eye to the gap, searching for movement. Nothing.

Freeing his dagger, he took a deep breath and stuck his head out the door. The long hallway led to

the front of the house and he glimpsed the stairs and the front door.

Deciding to go in the opposite direction, he eased out and moved two doors down. He cracked it

open and peered in. A closet of some kind.

If Logan was being held here, he would likely be in the cellar or the lowest part of the house. Their

only problem was finding it without getting caught first.

A clang from the end of the hall caused them both to jump and clamber inside the tiny closet. Two

overlarge men — and one who reeked — in a tiny broom closet did not mix well.

Rigo held his breath for more than just silence. “You need a bath,” he whispered in the dark.

The only answer he received was a slap to the head. “Ouch!”

Bruno chuckled, his barrel- chest shaking against Rigo, who pressed tighter against the door, hoping

to gain more room. But the door popped open and he tumbled face first to the floor.

He leapt to his feet and searched for another hiding spot. Without even checking to see if the room

across the hall was clear, he burst through the door, just as a maid rounded the corner at the end of the

hall.

He leaned back against the door to sigh in relief and whipped around. No one was here. Whew! He

sagged against the door until he heard a noise outside.

Panic seized him. Another room full of books. The library, he guessed. How many rooms with

books does one person need?

There was only one place to hide, and that was under the overlarge desk in the center of the room.

He lunged for it, dragging the armed chair out and crawling under just as the door swung open.

Christ
! This was suicide.

He eased the chair back under the desk carefully without making a noise and waited.

The maid appeared. He craned his neck to gaze around the chair to see what she was doing. She

fixed a drink from the tray and then moved to open the curtains in the room. Excellent. More light.
Why

couldn’t it rain
?

She turned and headed back the way she’d come. He listened for the door to close but it never

came. He waited. Then he attempted to peer under the backside of the desk to see if the woman was still

there. He couldn’t bend his frame low enough. He simply wasn’t that flexible.

God’s blood! If he made it out of this alive, he was going to kill Blac.

Seconds passed, and he finally pushed the chair back. No sounds were heard. No female shrieks

sounded. Then he eased forward and poked his head out from under the desk.

A dagger settled against his throat and he jumped backward, bashing his head on the top of the desk.

A pair of glittering, emerald eyes lowered and accompanied the face of an angel. “Did you lose

something, or were you just cleaning out from under the desk?”

Rigo scooted forward with a grin. “Uh...well, I must admit I am lost,
cara mia
, and I—I dropped

something.”

The beauty stepped back and allowed him to get to his feet. Piles of cinnamon colored hair were

swept up in a fancy chignon and the pale canary dress she wore exposed her creamy shoulders and long

neck. Rigo tilted his head and surveyed the woman before him like an animal scrutinizing his meal.

Indeed, this could turn out to be interesting.

He took a step forward and she backed away. The knife in her hand shook slightly. Anyone less

astute would have missed the tremor. But not Rigo.

“Keep your distance, sir, or I will be forced to use this.”

He grinned, an almost feral smile. “The question remains, do you know how to use it?”

The redhead lifted her chin. “Come and find out.”

A challenge. Interesting
. He backed her further into the room and she stood directly before the

doorway. Although, she’d yet to sound an alarm. “I do so apologize for the fright I gave you, miss. Please

accept my apology and let us begin again.”

She shook her head and her tight curls bounced against her neckline. A lovely neck to be sure.

When Bruno’s gigantic arms wrapped around her from behind and his palm covered her mouth, she

screamed. But it was too late, Bruno already had her mouth covered muting the shout.

“Interesting little twist we have here. This mission, suddenly became much easier, as well as, much

more enjoyable. Now seniorita do be so kind as to show us where the lieutenant is keeping Captain

Logan.”

~*~

Rigo, Bruno, and the girl exited the room. “Which way?” Rigo asked. When she didn’t answer, he

peered back at her. “Bruno has only to snap your sweet neck, princess, so I would point which direction.”

Those green eyes glared at him but she pointed to the left. After a myriad of turns they came to a

door. “In here?”

She nodded.

The stairwell led to the cellar, and he pounded down the stairs. A man leapt out of nowhere with a

dagger in hand, and Rigo seized his arm, tumbling back into the wall. Sliding down to the floor, they both

thudded down the last three steps.

Rigo strained under the other man’s strength. His opponent had gravity on his side. They struggled

with the dagger and with sheer determination, Rigo forced the weapon above his head where it embedded

into the wooden step next to his ear.

Relief whooshed from his lungs. That had definitely been too close.

Bruno yanked on his attacker’s collar and lifted him off Rigo. With a solid punch to his chin, Bruno

knocked the smaller man out.

Sometimes, having a mute around was a good thing. Especially when that man could single-

handedly take out five men all on his own.

Bruno grasped the girls arm and dragged her down the remaining steps.

“Why are you doing this?”

Surprised she hadn’t screamed when she had the opportunity. “He’s our friend. We don’t leave our

friends to die.”

Rigo took hold of her as Bruno laid the man in the corner of the room and checked to make sure he

still breathed. Those meaty fists could pack a hell of a wallop.

“He’s been down here for years, or so I’ve been told. He’s a pirate. A common criminal. A thug.”

Rigo gave a lopsided grin. “Is there any other way to be?”

She clamped her mouth shut. “I’ve never understood why my cousin keeps him here instead of in the

prison at the fort, but it’s not my place to say anything. After my mother died, I was forced to come here

until I marry. My father is too busy for me.”

Logan was chained to the far wall, shackles binding his legs and hands. He’d been beaten so badly

he barely stood on his own. His one good eye popped open and he grinned.

“Took you long enough, you black bastard.”

Bruno hugged Logan in a crushing embrace and the older man chuckled. “Aye, I missed you too.

How is my daughter?”

Apparently the two needed no interpreter and could understand each other just fine.

Bruno helped his captain stand while Rigo scrambled to find the set of keys on the guard. His hand

shook as he fumbled inside the large pockets. But there were none. He frowned.

“I would try over there,” the girl suggested.

He searched the table and chairs and found them hanging on the wall by the stairs. “Thank you,
cara

mia
.”

“You’re welcome and you can call me Eliza, not sweet heart.”

“An educated woman.” Rigo nodded in approval. “Do you speak other languages as well as

Italian?”

“
Si, Yo sé cuatro idiomas diferentes, incluyendo español
.”

Rigo whistled. “Four huh? Impressive. Now do me a favor and show us the way the out then.”

Rigo moved across the room to unfasten the locks. Freedom lurked just beyond the corner. A door

above sounded and they stilled. Then the pounding on the stairs as several red-coated soldiers filtered

down with guns raised and surrounded them.

So much for being free...

Nineteen

It had taken six of them to subdue them and only one guard left to watch the prisoners. Of course, it

might be the iron chains around their wrists that gave the guards their overconfidence. It would be rather

difficult to break them but once they did...escape would be easy.

Bruno strained against the iron once again until he gasped, out of breath. “Did you think they might

break this time as opposed to the last six times you’ve tried?” Rigo just couldn’t help the sarcasm.

Sometimes it just came out of his mouth before it even entered his brain.

Bruno’s brow furrowed and he appeared as if he wished Rigo’s neck were in his hands instead.

The dank, damp smell of the cellar lingered in the air, and Bruno’s boots scraped against gritty

floor as he struggled with his bindings once again. Rigo leaned back against the wall and idly cleaned

under his fingernails. Let the man wear himself out on an impossible task. Rigo would wait for the ideal

opportunity. And there would be one. He always managed to escape at times like this. He just had to be

patient.

The soldiers had placed them on the other side of the long, narrow room but he could still see

Logan around the large barrels of rum if he leaned to the side enough. Wine racks lined the walls as high

as the ceiling and were filled with bottles.