A Love to Die For

By Peggy

The rearview mirror showed a red truck coming up fast behind her and she moved over just slightly to the right.

After months of intense training and education, Jaime Strand was at last free to take the trip she had been dreaming of since the training started. Cramming for exams, endless classes, and the rigorous physical requirements had gotten to be a real grind toward the end. The training was a follow-up to her college degree, and it had been a long time since she had time to enjoy herself. Now, at age 26, she was free, for a month, before she reported for duty.

The windows were down as she drove through the countryside. It was beautiful here in the wilderness of Montana. The mountains were covered with green pine trees and the valleys were lush with green grass. The sky was immensely blue, from which the nickname 'Big Sky Country' must have originated. The scent of pine rode in on the clean, fresh country air that permeated the car. The rushing wind blew through her loose, blonde curls that were usually bound on top of her head in an attempt to control them into looking like the professional woman she was striving to be. The nearest town was nearly 100 miles away, but she would make it by dinnertime.

The loud blast of a vehicle horn broke through her peaceful thoughts. The mirror showed the red pickup truck right on her rear bumper. I wonder what his problem is, she thought, as she could see there was no oncoming traffic in the other lane. She moved over as far as she could to the side of the road to give him room to pass. Suddenly she was slammed from behind, and then again! She felt the loss of control, as the steering wheel seemed to take on a life of its own, whipping and turning in her hands as she struggled to hold on. Her car went off the road at near highway speed, bouncing through the gullies and over rocks. Everything was a green blur until she was finally able to slow the car. The red truck blew his horn all the way past as he disappeared down the road.

Clinging to the steering wheel with her heart pounding in her throat, she brought the careening car to a stop, barely clearing a large pole gate. She folded her arms over the steering wheel and put her head on her hands as the smell of burnt rubber, or hot electrical wiring, assailed her nostrils. She wasn't sure how long she sat like that, trying to bring her heartbeat back to normal.

"What are you doing on my property?" the angry, accented voice yelled through her car window.

Frightened for the second time in what seemed like a very few minutes, she trembled as she looked into dark amber eyes, reflecting blind fury at her unintentional intrusion. In reaction to his rudeness, she retorted, "I'm very sorry to inconvenience you, but I'm not sitting here for my pleasure. Some maniac in a pickup truck intentionally ran me off of the road. My car went over that huge boulder back there, and I can't get the gears to change. It must have messed up the transmission. I'll have to get some help before I can remove my unwanted presence from your property."

"Terrific! There isn't a repair shop within 100 miles of here! It will take at least a day before I can call someone to come out here. What the devil am I to do with you until then?" he grumbled.

"Don't bother yourself about me! I'll just wait here in the car."

"For a day or maybe more? Don't be ridiculous!"

"Listen, you've made it very clear that I'm not welcome here, and I will not impose myself on you any more than necessary. I WILL remain here!"

"Suit yourself!" he threw back at her, then turned on his heel and walked away.

She watched him climb into the seat of his silver, extended-cab truck and disappear into the trees up the road, cursing him as her stomach began growling with hunger. The skies began to darken and she looked up. Just what I need, a storm is coming.

Antonio stomped up the steps of the broad verandah just as the first few drops of rain splattered on the road behind him. From the force with which the drops hit, he could tell it would be a gully-washer. A pang of guilt stabbed through him at the thought of the girl sitting it out in her crippled car. It's her own fault, he justified to himself. She didn't have to be so stubborn! But I didn't have to yell at her either. She was nearly killed, from the sound of it, then I yelled at her. No wonder she wouldn't accept any help. Well, there isn't anything I can do about it now. I can't drag her up here kicking and screaming, now can I?

Opening the front door, he stepped into the huge log ranch house he and his brother had built from timber they had cut from the acres of forest on the hills at the back of their property. It had been hard work, but he felt a sense of pride every time he walked through the door. The rooms were large and airy, but cozy and well decorated. The windows were large so as not to obstruct the view of the mountain scenery. Someday, he wanted a family to share all of this with. For now, there were only the two of them. They had hired a local lady, to cook and clean for them, but she left for home every day by 5:00 PM. One day, if conditions changed, he would be able to send for Serena, that is, if she hadn't given up on him and married already. He missed her!

These thoughts were not improving his mood, and as he headed for the shower, his brother, Juan, looked up from the paper he was reading at the large, oak dining room table. "What are you so steamed at?"

Antonio didn't answer, but threw Juan a dirty look.

Juan just smiled, knowing Antonio couldn't stay in a bad mood for long. As soon as he finished his shower, his mood would be back to normal, he knew.

But it wasn't. Something must be eating him, Juan thought to himself as he watched Antonio pacing back and forth like a caged panther. He walked to the window and looked out at the slashing rain, just as a huge lightning bolt struck somewhere nearby.

"Damn it!" Antonio spat out. "Get your raincoat and come with me."

"In this downpour? Where are you going that can't wait for the rain to let up?"

"I'll explain on the way," Antonio answered as he pulled on his raincoat and headed out to the truck.

Juan shrugged into his coat and followed his older brother out into the storm.

It was difficult to see her car as they approached. The beam of their headlights flashed into the front seat as they pulled up, but it didn't look as if anyone was in the car. They approached the driver's side with a flashlight and found that the windows were down. Everything in the car was wet from the pounding rain. They finally saw her. She was huddled, shivering, under a sweater in the back seat, and she looked soaked to the skin. Antonio opened the door and tried to roll up the windows but they were jammed, apparently from the bumpy ride the car had taken over the rocks. She appeared to have fallen into an exhausted sleep and she didn't know they were there.

"Get that blanket out of the back seat," Antonio called to Juan, "and try to keep it dry."

Taking the blanket from his brother's hand, he reached inside the car, threw the wet sweater off and wrapped the dry blanket around her as he pulled her into a sitting position. She awoke then, and struggled. "Stay still," he ordered! "We'll have you warm and dry in a few minutes."

Shielding her body with his, he carried her, unprotesting, to the truck and placed her inside. "We can't do anything about the car tonight, we'll have to get it towed up to the house tomorrow. Let's get her home."

They climbed in on either side of her, and Antonio turned the truck to go back through the stormy blackness to the house. The heater was on, but still he could feel her slender body shivering uncontrollably beside him. Luckily, it was a short distance to travel before they arrived back at the house. Again shielding her from the rain as much as he could, Antonio gathered her up in his arms and sprinted for the steps. Carrying her inside, he pulled a chair up by the fireplace and placed her in it. He pulled a towel from the linen closet and started to pat her hair dry. Still she shivered.

"This isn't doing any good! I need to get her into a warm bath. Warm up some of that chicken soup Lorena left in the fridge."

"Are you sure you don't need help, brother?" Juan asked with a twinkle in his eye and a sly smile.

Antonio just threw him another dirty look as he picked her up again and headed down the hall to the bathroom. He put the lid down on the toilet and sat her there while he filled the tub with warm water. "Do you need help getting those wet things off?"

"I think I can manage," she answered with her teeth clenched to keep them from chattering.

"I'll be right outside. If you need any help, just yell. There are towels in that cabinet. I'll try to find you something dry to put on when you're through."

Gratefully, she gave him a weak smile to say, "Thank you."

He closed the door behind him and she started to peel off her soaked clothing. She was so cold that the warmth of the water made her skin tingle as she slid into it. She almost cried out, but gradually her shivering subsided and she felt almost back to normal. Using some shampoo that was sitting on a small shelf over the tub, she washed her hair. The shampoo had the masculine scent of sandalwood, but it wasn't unpleasant, in fact it felt comforting in a strange sort of way. Wrapping herself in the large fluffy towels from the cabinet, she combed through her hair. She had rinsed out her underwear and dried them the best she could with the hair dryer. They'll have to do until I get my suitcases from the car.

Just then Antonio knocked on the door. "Are you all right? Can I get you anything?"

"I borrowed the hair dryer I found in the drawer. I hope you don't mind. Did you find some clothes I could wear?"

"Nothing that will fit you, I'm afraid, but here they are. I found a pair of jeans that Juan grew out of a few years back, they might come close. There's a sweatshirt here, too. It's probably big enough you can even sleep in it if you want to. Do you want me to bring them in?"

She opened the door and reached for the clothing he had in his hand. She looked much better with some color back in her cheeks, he thought, as he handed them over and backed away from the door.

When she finished dressing, she straightened up the bathroom and hung the towels over the rod to dry.

Following the sound of the men's voices and the delicious smell of chicken soup, she walked into the dining room.

Antonio turned his head toward her to check out the fit of the clothing, and was astonished at the change in her from the bedraggled bundle he had carried into the house an hour before. The jeans fit her slim hips and long, slender legs like a second skin. The soft blue color of the sweatshirt perfectly matched her eyes, making them appear almost misty. Her long blonde hair had been pulled behind her ears and tumbled in waves over her shoulders. Her feet were bare, her toenails painted a light coral. He had forgotten to get her something to put on her feet. He shook his head slightly to dislodge the momentary lapse of consciousness.

A hot bowl of chicken soup and some rolls were waiting for her. Her stomach rumbled as Antonio pulled out a chair for her to sit. She was sure he had heard it when she caught the guilty look that suddenly shadowed his eyes.

She felt a little uneasy until the men each took a roll and began eating with her as they discussed the storm and speculated on how long it would last. They weren't looking directly at her and she was able to eat her soup with utter enjoyment. She was beginning to feel herself again.

Just as they finished eating, lightning struck once more, immediately followed by a clap of thunder that made them all jump. The lights flickered once, twice, and went out. The fireplace was the only light in the house.

"I think we had better build up the fire and move closer to it, it might get chilly before the power comes back on," Antonio suggested.

"It's a good thing I brought in a supply of firewood today, aren't you glad I'm clairvoyant?" grinned Juan.

Antonio gave him a push on the shoulder and Juan tumbled, laughing, full length onto one of the two sofas sitting in front of the fireplace. It didn't seem that he intended to budge from there once he had landed, so Antonio steered Jaime toward the other one.

Smiling at their play, she settled herself into one corner thinking what a couple of handsome men they were. Both had brown eyes that warmed when they smiled, shiny, dark hair that curled over their ears and at the nape of their necks. They were trim and muscular. Antonio was a bit bigger and more filled out…and their accents were so charming. A tiny smile crossed her lips but Antonio dragged her thoughts away as he handed her a throw, "We can't have you getting chilled again." He left the room as she wrapped it around her. He was back in two minutes with a pair of socks in his hand. He handed them to her and settled down on the sofa, leaving a little distance between them, and stretched out his long, lean, muscular legs toward the fire.

She sat quietly, listening, as the two men planned the best way to get her car moved up to the house the following day. They would place a call in the morning to see how long it would take to get the repairs made.

Juan said goodnight and went off to bed.

She watched the flames as the cozy warmth seeped into her, and she slowly began to relax. Someone asked her a question, then asked again before she realized she was being spoken to. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I asked you what your name was, and where you were heading before you were run off of the road," Antonio questioned softly, recognizing how tired she must be.

"I'm Jaime Strand, and I'm on vacation, just going wherever I end up day by day. I'm very grateful for all you've done for me. That idiot that ran me off of the road scared me to death!"

He didn't answer for some time, then said quietly, "I want to apologize for yelling at you. I have my reasons for not wanting strangers around the place."

She didn't reply. Glancing sideways, he realized she was asleep. He studied her face with the frame of golden curls, dark lashes leaving shadows on her cheeks from the firelight, a slight crease in her forehead from the stress of the day. One curl hung slightly over one eye and he gently pushed it back from her face.

He stood up and walked to the window. It looked as if the rain was tapering off some, but there still was no power. He went to another room and brought back two pillows and two blankets. He placed his hand behind her neck and gently placed the pillow beneath her head, straightened her out on the sofa, and covered her with one of the blankets.

The other pillow he put on the second sofa so he could keep the fire tended through the night. He lay down and pulled the blanket over him, but he didn't fall asleep until the wee hours. His mind wouldn't rest. He was torn and confused by the feelings of tenderness this girl aroused in him. She was beautiful, no doubt about that, and his conscience stabbed him every time he looked at her. His body tightened as he thought about how she had looked in those jeans, and it made him angry. He didn't want to have these feelings. I'm in love with Serena. What if this girl is a spy? Looking at her face in sleep, he could hardly believe it. All I know about her is her name, and she could have been lying about that. Carlos has never used a woman to locate me before, but maybe he thought I would be susceptible to a woman by now. Damn! It's working, too. Well, we'll see about that! I'll ask some pointed questions and have a look through her car in the morning and see what I can find out. With that last conscious thought, he finally fell asleep.

Morning came quickly. Jaime woke up first. As she stretched, she wondered for a minute where she was. Feeling the warmth from the fireplace, it slowly came back to her and she wondered who had kept the fire going all night. Her eyes wandered to the other sofa and saw him. His brownish amber eyes were shielded now in sleep. His thick black lashes were emphasized by the soft, black, shiny curls falling over his forehead. His expression in sleep was young and boyish, not even close to the stern visage she had witnessed from her car window when he was yelling at her.

One arm was raised and circled behind his head, one leg hung off of the sofa as if he hadn't had enough room for his full length. The other knee was raised and leaned against the sofa back, his jeans stretched tautly over his strong thigh. The blanket was half on the floor, as if he had done a lot of tossing and turning in his sleep. He had slept in his clothes, but his shirt buttons had come unfastened nearly to his waist. The shirt was twisted, allowing a vision of a tanned and muscled chest, liberally sprinkled with dark, curly hair. From his chest, his body tapered down to a narrow waist and hips. She had the sudden impulse to run her hands over that tempting chest, and she had to clench them at her sides to make them behave. Her thoughts disturbed her. She hadn't taken time from her education to think about having a relationship with any man. Why was this one disturbing her so now? She had already had a taste of how unpleasant he could be. She had also seen the camaraderie between the two brothers. What a contrast this man is.

Her eyes roamed over his handsome face once more and settled on his lips. What would it be like to kiss him, she wondered, and suddenly realized his eyes were open and he was watching her. Caught looking dreamily at his mouth, she quickly glanced toward the fire. "You didn't get very much sleep if you had to keep the fire going all night," she said in an attempt to dispel her embarrassment.

Throwing off his blanket, he sat up, "I'm used to not getting a lot of sleep. It's nothing new. You slept well, I hope?"

"Oh, yes, thank you."

"Are you hungry?"

"I am, a little," she answered just as her stomach rumbled loudly.

"A little, huh?" he laughed.

Embarrassed again, she walked to the window and looked out. The rain had stopped, but it was still gray and overcast. "I would be happy to fix breakfast if you'll show me where to find things in the kitchen."

He watched her as she walked and felt the familiar tightening again, and his mood suddenly changed. "That won't be necessary! There isn't any electricity." he said, almost rudely, "My housekeeper will be here in fifteen minutes. She always fixes breakfast."

Wondering what she had said that made him angry, she did the only thing she could do. She sat down again by the fire, and pulled the blanket around her once more. He strode swiftly from the room, and she heard the water turn on in the shower a moment later.

With no electricity, the water was cold as it poured over him. Just what I need, he thought, a cold shower to get my thoughts straight again. Nevertheless, he didn't linger any longer than he had to. He finished up and walked out just as Juan arrived to take his shower. By the time both men were dressed, Lorena had breakfast on the table. There was no electricity at her house either, so she cooked it in a dutch oven and brought it with her.

Juan chatted sociably with Jaime while they ate, but Antonio didn't say a word and his eyes didn't leave his plate.

"Come on, Juan, let's go get that car up here, " Antonio said as Juan finished his last bite.

"Where are your car keys?" he asked, without even looking at Jaime.

"I guess they're still in the ignition. I didn't get a chance to pick them up."

"Hmmmph," he grumbled and headed for the door. Juan threw a look at Jaime and shrugged his shoulders as he turned and followed along.

The first thing Antonio did when they got to the car was to check out the glove box. He found her vehicle registration that showed him her real name really was Jaime Strand. At least she hadn't lied about that part. Her address was listed as Boise, Idaho, a neighboring state. How could Carlos possibly be connected with her that far West?

He was sure that was the only reason Carlos hadn't found them yet. He wouldn't have expected him to give up his work in the city for the desolation of Montana. Being a writer the computer enabled him to do his work via the Internet. He still had his income, more so, in fact, because he was able to fulfill the responsibilities of his job and freelance at the same time. At least he could work as long as they had electricity and an active phone line.

There wasn't anything else of interest in the glove box, so he moved to the truck. He began to move her bags in the back, unzipping the luggage and looking through the contents.

"What are you doing, Antonio?" Juan exclaimed. "You shouldn't be going through her things like that."

"What if she's a spy for Carlos? Did you think about that?"

Juan shook his head, disbelievingly. "She couldn't be!"

Just then Antonio pulled out a black case. "Couldn't she?" The key was in the lock and he quickly opened the case. Inside was a pair of handguns. A license for them was tucked into the top of the box and the name on the license was Jaime Strand.

"I still don't believe it, there must be a reason she has guns, why don't you ask her?" Juan stammered.

"And tip her off that we know? We have to be very careful what we say and do around her until we know for sure that she doesn't know who we are. It could be a coincidence that she ended up wrecked on our property, but if she's a plant, we are in grave danger. Just in case, I think we'd better find her ammunition and hide it."

Shaking his head in disbelief, Juan nevertheless helped Antonio search for the ammunition and placed it under the seat of their truck. They put the rest of her things back the way they had found them, hooked a tow bar to the front of the car and pulled the car back to the house.

As soon as they arrived, Jaime came down the steps, got into the trunk, got out her overnight bag that had her cosmetics in it, and some clean clothes. Antonio watched, as she pulled her purse from under the seat where she had left it. He cursed under his breath for not looking there and his eyes followed her as she went back into the house.

Following her in, he picked up the phone to see if it was working. He wanted to get repairs arranged for as soon as possible and get her on her way.

He raised his eyes to the ceiling in thankfulness as the call went through, but the repairman said it would be two days before he could get a man out to assess the damage. Oh, great! he thought as he thanked him and hung up the phone. Two more days to get through thinking the worst.

He was sitting at the dining room table, deep in thought, as she once more came from the bathroom. She had cleaned up, put on some makeup, though she didn't need very much, and piled her mass of curls on top of her head in a clip. She was wearing a very form-fitting coral knit top with a round neck that came just above the top of her firm breasts. Leaving her midriff bare, it ended about two inches above the equally form fitting new blue jeans. She had sandals on her feet, exposing her coral-painted toenails. Her outfit was modest enough, but so sexy that he felt his torture beginning again. As she walked past him, he caught the scent of her perfume. He could swear it was Diavolo per Donna, from Spain. Damn! Double damn! He wasn't used to female company and his body was betraying him. He wanted to get up and leave, but he would give himself away if he stood up now.

She walked over to the table and sat down across from him. "Did you talk to a repairman?"

Thankful for something to say, he told her what the repairman had told him. He couldn't completely disguise his disappointment at the delay.

She picked up on it right away, "I'm very sorry to put you out like this. I wish I could do something to hurry it up. By the way, do you know anyone in this area who drives a red pickup truck? I intend to press charges." She placed both elbows on the table and rested her chin on her clasped hands, causing her neckline to bow out slightly, giving him an unexpected view of the soft mounds of her breasts.

Another drift of perfume crossed the table and wafted beneath his nose. He closed his eyes and drew in a slow breath before he answered, "No, I can't think of anyone who drives a red pickup. Did you get a license number?" he asked without looking at her again.

"No, I'm afraid I had too much on my mind just trying to control the car. There are red paint smears on my back bumper though."

That's curious. Most women wouldn't have noticed that.

"Do you mind if I make some phone calls? I'll pay you for the charges, " she asked.

"Of course, feel free."

"Thank you!" She waited until she could be alone, and he didn't fail to notice the fact.

The first call she placed was to the police department in the closest town. She told them what had happened and gave them a description of the truck. She asked them to check for paint smears from her blue sedan on the front bumper. A truck matching the description had been spotted in town. They made note of it because it had New Orleans license plates on it. They would check the front bumper and call her back with the license number.

"Please be prepared to detain him, I will press charges."

Half an hour later, the phone rang. The men were outside so she answered it. It was the police. They had discovered blue paint smears on the front bumper but the man had come out, gotten into the truck and driven off very fast, nearly running down an officer as he did so. They had given chase, but he gave them the slip. They gave her the license plate number and told her they had an APB out for him, but that's all they could do for now.

"Thank you, please keep me informed." As soon as she hung up the phone, she placed another call. This one was to inquire about the license number on the truck. It was registered to a Carlos Montero of New Orleans. The name meant nothing to her.

Antonio came into the room as she hung up the phone. He looked at her curiously, but said nothing.

"I called the police in the closest town," she said, feeling a need to explain. She filled him in on the details as she knew them, then she got up and went out to get something from her car.

Antonio went to the phone, hit *69 to find out the last number that had been called. Quickly dialing the number, he waited for someone to answer. He almost fell over when the answer came. "This is the Federal Bureau of Investigation, how can I direct your call?" He quickly hung up the phone. Why is she calling the FBI? Has Carlos told them some story to get them tracking me down? Just how does she fit into the picture?

When she came in, she was carrying the black gun case under her arm. He pretended not to notice as she slid the case under the edge of the sofa, out of sight. He was awfully glad he had hidden her ammunition, but did she have more that he missed? He would have to stay very close to her until he could figure out what was going on. He planned on sticking to her like stink on a skunk.

After dinner he invited her to go for a walk. She accepted, wondering why he was suddenly being pleasant again.

At first they walked to the back of the house and up the trail to the timberline. The air smelled freshly washed from the rain. The evening was cool and the air was damp so she wore a dark blue jacket to match her jeans. Antonio was relieved that she was covered up a bit more. He had been hard pressed to keep his eyes off of her all afternoon. It would be difficult to stay close to her and fight his traitorous male body while he watched to see what she was up to.

He didn't say anything as they walked. It gave her a chance to admire him secretly. He was wearing black jeans and boots. A black shirt topped the outfit with the top buttons open, revealing the magnificent chest she had admired while he was asleep. Jaime started feeling a little uncomfortable about his silence. She commented on everything she saw, trying to start a conversation, but she barely got the merest nod in response. Squirrels were scurrying here and there to finish up their last errands before the sun went down.

"Where are you from?" he asked so suddenly she almost jumped.

"Boise, Idaho, for now, but I may have to relocate."

At least she told the truth about that, and he answered, "Why?"

"I'm starting a new job the first of next month. I have to find out where most of my assignments will take me. It might be difficult to stay in one place."

"That doesn't sound like a very pleasant job, moving around so much. Don't you want to have a family?"

"Eventually, yes, but I've worked very hard to get this job, and it's taken a long time."

They were still about thirty yards from the timberline when they came to a large puddle in the middle of the trail. He hopped across it easily with his long legs, but she hesitated, not wanting to land in the middle. "Come on, I'll help you," he said, reaching his hand back to take hold of hers.

She stepped back as far as she could reach still holding onto his hand, then jumped as hard as she could while he pulled her by the hand. Between the two of them, the effort was a bit much for the distance and she slammed into his body rather hard. She would have tumbled backwards into the puddle if he hadn't grabbed her to him. She found herself wrapped in two strong arms, her breasts pressed against his rock-hard chest, and his wary eyes were looking into hers. It seemed as if time stopped as his face moved closer, and closer. A low groan escaped him as his lips came down on hers. They were soft at first, but quickly became possessive and demanding as long denied passions took over.

She was as lost as he was. Her hands were on his chest, where they had longed to be, and she didn't stop their wandering. Her fingertips felt his heartbeat pounding, as the roaring in her ears drowned out all other sounds. His tongue touched her lips, asking for entry, and there was no way she could deny him.

The kiss deepened and he moaned, "Ohhh, Dios mio!"

A sudden sound pulled them back from their passion-clouded world, as a bullet whistled past them, barely missing Antonio.

"El Cabrone, you can't stay away from the ladies, can you?" someone yelled from a hidden position in the trees.

Antonio immediately pulled her off the trail and down with him behind a large rock, then faced toward where the voice was coming from. "Damn!! It's Carlos!"

"Carlos? Carlos Montero?" Jaime exclaimed, "I thought you didn't know him."

"I didn't say I didn't know him. How do you know him? Are you working for him?"

"Why would I be working for him? He's the one who ran me off of the road."

From his puzzled expression, she knew he didn't understand. "The red pickup truck, remember? The police told me it was registered to a Carlos Montera from New Orleans."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know you knew him, he's from New Orleans."

"No, he's not from New Orleans. He's from my homeland, in Spain. He has been trying to kill me."

"I don't understand, why does he want to kill you?"

"There isn't time to explain now, but I thought you were in on it somehow."

There was no time to reply as another bullet pounded into the rock in front of them. Antonio shoved her head down as the bullet ricocheted off with a shrill whine. A vague scent of gunpowder drifted to them on the breeze.

"My sister died having your baby, cabrone, and you will die, too, you and your puta!"

"Having your baby!?" Jaime looked shocked.

"It isn't true! What kind of man do you think I am? I'll explain it all later. If we can wait him out for a little while, it will be dark. We can make our escape then. Just be still and keep your head down. Maybe he'll think we got away."

The voice kept calling out to Antonio, but now it was all in Spanish. Jaime couldn't understand all that was said, and Antonio was not inclined to tell her. He didn't answer, but was able to keep Carlos's position pinpointed from the sound of his voice.

At last it was dark enough to crawl from behind the rock without being seen. They stayed low and were very grateful that they were both wearing dark clothing. They could still hear him ranting in Spanish until they were nearly back to the house.

Antonio located Juan, and told him to stay out of sight. They left the lights off and listened closely. Finally, they heard a truck engine start, a door slam, and a motor being gunned as it took off over the uneven ground. He was gone for now, but he would be back. They would need to be ready.

They turned on a lamp and Jaime took her gun case from under the sofa. Opening it up, she checked the chambers. They were loaded, but she needed the rest of her ammunition. "I have to go to the car."

Antonio had been watching her. "What for?"

"I need my shells."

"If you aren't working for Carlos, why do you carry guns?"

"Is that why you were suspicious of me?" she asked as it dawned on her what it must look like. Not too many women carry guns.

"Well, yes! Would you like to explain?"

"After you."

He gave a deep sigh. "All right. Five years ago, I was engaged to be married. Another girl thought she was in love with me, and wanted me to marry her. She even got herself pregnant by someone else and told everyone it was mine. Her brother, Carlos, who you have already met, came after me. He threatened my novia and my family if I didn't marry his sister. I had to leave my home and come to the United States. Juan came with me. I thought we were safe, but he followed us. He always follows us. He always finds us. It has been almost a year this time, and I thought we had given him the slip, but I have to be suspicious of everyone. Today wasn't the first time I've had to dodge bullets."

"Have you gone to the authorities?"

"I tried, but I always got the same answer. We can't do anything until he harms someone."

"Technically, I guess that's true, but you have a witness now. I can get some help," she said as she headed for the phone.

"Just a minute! I gave you my story, and I'm waiting for yours."

"I guess you are," she said with a smile. "I work for the FBI. I'm a field agent, an 'undercover' agent, sort of. In my new job, I will be sent to anyplace they might need someone."

Surprised at her answer, he asked, "Isn't that dangerous?"

"It can be, but I've been well trained. I've been in law enforcement since I graduated from high school, starting as a dispatcher. I worked my way up as a police officer, including the 'street' beats. That's how I financed my education. In some ways, this is probably less dangerous than what I've been doing, and it pays much better."

He shook his head, trying to absorb what it all meant.

She went to the phone, called the FBI, and gave them all of the information she now had on Carlos Montero. She asked Antonio for a description of him and passed that information along as well. The FBI would contact the local police and step up the manpower on the APB that was out on him. They cautioned her to be careful, in case he came back, and assured her they would have some men coming out to help as soon as it could be arranged. She thanked them and hung up the phone.

Antonio had collapsed on the sofa in front of the fireplace. She walked over and sat down by him. He looked so distressed, that she reached over and put her hand on his knee. "This should be over soon, and you won't have to worry about him any longer."

He covered her hand with his. "I don't like you being involved in all of this. It's dangerous! You could have been killed a little while ago. The bullet could have struck you."

"I could have been killed when he ran me off the road, and that was before I knew anything about you or your situation. You can't blame yourself for that. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"I think you were in the right place at the wrong time. I'm afraid I've come to care about you."

"And that distresses you? Is it because of your fiancée?"

"Partly! I've been in love with Serena for half of my life. At least I thought I was. Five years away from her is a long time. Sometimes, I can't picture her face clearly in my mind anymore, you know? But I wonder what's happened to her."

"That's understandable, but we'd better talk about this later. We have to be ready in case he comes back before help arrives. Can I go get my shells now?"

"No, I will! They're in my truck."

"What are they doing there? How did they get there?"

He looked at her sheepishly, and shrugged, "I didn't trust you, remember?"

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Here I am being housed against my will with two strange men that I never saw before yesterday, and YOU didn't trust ME?"

He smiled, leaned toward her and touched his lips lightly to hers. "Key word…'didn't'. I'll go get your ammo."

" I wasn't in too much danger. I'm practiced in the art of self-defense," she grinned. "Be careful, he might be out there. I'll cover you."

She went to the door with him. They looked out cautiously, but saw no movement. She followed him, with her gun held ready, until they were safely back in the house.

Two hours passed without hearing anything out of the ordinary. They kept the lights turned low and listened intently to every sound. When it finally came, they scrambled to their pre-planned places. The voice wasn't trying to be stealthy, in fact he wanted them to know he was there. Again the voice called out, "El cabrone! Come out and fight like a man. Don't hide behind your puta's skirts, cabrone. You won't escape me this time." His voice came from the driveway in front of the house.

Juan was told to stay in the house, and stay down in case Carlos started shooting. Antonio took one of Jaime's guns and she took the other. Together they sneaked out the side door and ran quietly for the cover of the shrubs surrounding the yard. They crept around to the front of the house to see if they could see where he was. It was just dark enough that they couldn't tell. To make it worse, he wasn't yelling any longer. In fact there was no sound at all. He must be trying to get into the house. They crept back to the back of the house and noticed that one window was slightly open.

Fearing for Juan, Antonio raced for the back door with Jaime right beside him. Opening the door without a sound, they walked inside with their guns cocked and ready. Suddenly they heard a solid 'thud', and a sound like a body sliding down a wall and hitting the floor.

Frightened that it might be Juan, they hurried toward the sound. They rounded the corner to the dining room in time to see a shadow rise up with a large object extending from it. Juan recognized Antonio just as the object came down. A glancing blow hit Antonio just as he tripped over another body on the floor, and he sprawled in a heap next to it.

Jaime cried out, "Antonio! Juan, that was Antonio!" She swiftly sank down beside him. Juan anxiously watched as Jaime checked Antonio's vital signs. "He'll have a nasty headache, but he'll be all right. What about Carlos?"

"I hit him pretty hard, he should be out for awhile," Juan answered.

"Get his gun and help me pull Antonio over there away from him," she asked.

After pulling Antonio's unconscious body across the room, he asked, "Are you sure he's gonna be all right?" At her nod, he expelled a rather large sigh, "Then maybe I should be worrying if I will be all right when he comes to."

Hearing a groan, they turned to see that Carlos was coming to. They had to do something to keep him subdued until help arrived. Holding her gun on him, Jaime asked Juan to get her handcuffs from the bottom of her gun case. He handed them to her and she quickly rolled him onto his stomach and cuffed his hands behind his back. She asked Juan for his belt and quickly ran it around the man's ankles then around the chain between the cuffs. He wasn't going anywhere.

With Carlos secured, she wet a washcloth and went to Antonio. Sitting beside him she lifted his head into her lap and began to talk to him. She touched the cool cloth to his forehead in an attempt to bring him back to consciousness. He was still out cold. She leaned over to place tiny kisses all over his face.

The front door suddenly swung open, banging on the wall behind it. Three men came in with guns drawn. Juan jumped at this new threat, but was quickly overpowered and pushed down on the sofa with one of the men standing near him. The other two split up, one going to Carlos and the other toward Jaime, pulling a badge from his pocket and holding it out to her. "It looks like we're a bit too late. Is that Montero in the cuffs?"

At her nod, he motioned toward Antonio, "Is he dead?"

"No, he was struck on the head accidentally, but he's been out quite a long time, I'm beginning to get worried. Did you bring the helicopter? We might have to get him to a hospital." "Yes, we did, but we landed it down by the gate."

"Maybe you should give him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation," the voice came from her lap, and startled her. She looked down, but his eyes were still closed, and his face showed no expression. Noooo, there was a tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth. The twitch moved to the other corner as well, and a tiny smile appeared. One eye opened slightly to peep through his dark lashes at her.

"You want mouth-to-mouth, do you?" she whispered and slapped him lightly on his chest as she leaned over to touch her mouth to his. She blew hard into his mouth, catching him off guard, and the air escaped through his lips and made a strange sound, drawing the attention of the agents. Jaime blushed as the men grinned down at the two of them on the floor. Antonio wasn't inhibited at all by their audience and he once more pulled her face to his and kissed her until she was breathless.

"You make a good pillow, I could stay like this all day," he joked.

"Well, my legs are asleep, so up you go."

With a little push from Jaime, Antonio stood up. He gave Jaime a hand and pulled her up, then touched his hands to his head to comfort the dizzy headache that assailed him.

Jaime steered him toward the sofa before he fell back down again, and brought him a drink of water. The agents had a few questions to ask them before left with Carlos.

Antonio looked at Carlos, "I did NOT get your sister pregnant. I didn't even take her on a date. That's the truth!!"

Carlos hung his head but didn't answer and the agents took him off to jail to await a trial. Juan walked out with them, leaving Antonio and Jaime alone.

"Now can I have mouth-to-mouth resuscitation? I still need it, you know? And I don't want the balloon treatment again!"

Jaime smiled and leaned into him as his lips came down on hers. The kiss deepened, his arms tightened around her, and bliss settled over them both. Some things would have to be worked out about her job, but the feelings of love flowing through them would make anything possible.