High-Stakes Affair. Gail Barrett
his help. Now he was mired with her in this muddled mess—and it was up to her to get them out.
He shifted to a lower gear. The car slowed abruptly, jerking her against the seat belt, the engine protesting with a high-pitched shriek. He hit the brakes, slowing them even further, and steered the car off the road. The beams from the headlights bounced across the trees as they bumped over the rocky ground.
“What are you doing?” She braced her hand against the dashboard as the car lurched through a rocky ditch. “Why did you leave the road?”
“They’ve set up a roadblock closer to town.”
“How do you know that?”
“I overheard some people talking in the parking lot.”
She frowned. “You think they know that Gomez is dead?”
“No. They’re looking for you. Your bodyguard got a good look at me before the lights went out. When he woke up and couldn’t find you, he probably figured I’d kidnapped you.”
Oh, God. Dante was right. That was exactly what Carlos would think. She sank back against the seat, fastening her gaze on the passing timber as the implications sank in. Her father would act at once. He’d scour the countryside, mobilizing the military and mounting an all-out search.
Her forehead suddenly throbbing, she pressed her fingers to her temples and tried to think. “I’ll straighten this out as soon as I get home. I’ll call my father and let him know that I’m all right.”
“He’s not going to believe you.”
“Why not?”
Dante swerved again. “They saw us together in the hall, and we were running away from the guards. How are you going to explain that?”
“I’ll say I was lost, that you were helping me find my way out. And we ran because … because we didn’t know who they were. We thought the guards were someone else, maybe La Brigada raiding the casino. And you were trying to keep me safe.”
“It still won’t work.”
“Of course it will. Once I explain—”
“I’m a thief, Paloma. I’ve got a criminal record. It won’t matter what you say. They’ll assume that I coerced you and throw me back in jail.”
“Not without proof, they won’t.”
“Proof?” He shot her an incredulous look. “What planet do you live on? Since when do they need proof to arrest someone?”
“That’s awfully cynical. Our laws—”
He barked out a bitter laugh. “Laws. Right. That’s why they tossed me in jail before—with no lawyer, no contact with the outside world, no chance to fight the charges, whatever the hell they were.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Then you’re either stupid or naive.”
She frowned at his angry profile, his bitterness bothering her. True, she hadn’t found his arrest papers. And she knew the system wasn’t perfect, that some of the older guards were corrupt. But Dante made the country sound medieval. And while her father might be high-handed, he’d never tolerate abuses like that.
“I don’t know what happened with your arrest,” she admitted. “So I can’t argue with you about that. But you don’t have to worry about tonight. I’ll make sure my father knows that you didn’t do anything wrong. I’ll talk to him in person and prove that I’m all right.”
Dante slanted her a glance. “There’s still one problem.”
“What?”
“I don’t believe you.”
The car hit a rut, and she clutched the seat. He didn’t believe she’d stand up for him? “Why not?”
“Why should I?”
“Because I said I would. And my word is good.”
“Your word?” he scoffed. “You’ve been lying to me from the start. There isn’t a chance in hell Gomez was blackmailing you with the reputation you have.”
She flushed and crossed her arms, unable to deny the truth. “The reason I need that disk doesn’t matter.”
“It matters. I’m in this mess as much as you are, so you damned well owe me the truth. And until I get it, I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
“What?”
“You heard me, Princess. You’re stuck with me until I decide we’re through.”
Outraged, she clamped her jaw. Then she turned her gaze to the side window, where the wind whistled through a crack. Wonderful. She’d thought the night couldn’t get much worse. But she’d been wrong.
Because now she had to worry about him.
Chapter 3
Dante had to hand it to the princess. She’d lived up to her bad reputation and totally screwed up his night.
Furious over the debacle she’d landed him in, he stopped on a cobblestone street in the heart of the ancient city and parked. Darkness enveloped the car. A dog barked from a nearby house, its sharp, high-pitched yaps adding to his foul mood.
Paloma had embroiled him in a disaster, all right. The police were hot on his trail. They would assume he’d abducted the princess and would probably shoot him on sight. They’d definitely connect him to that bomb blast—and possibly the casino owner’s bizarre death.
And until he could extricate himself from this unholy mess, he wasn’t letting her escape. She was the only hope he had to clear his name and keep himself out of jail.
“Where are we?” she asked.
He turned his head, barely able to make out her features in the predawn light. She hadn’t spoken for the last half hour as they’d worked their way down the forest trail. She’d sat with her arms folded tight, her sultry lips compressed, upset that he didn’t trust her, no doubt. Well, too damned bad. He needed answers. And he intended to get them, even if her feelings got hurt.
“A property I’m restoring,” he hedged. “No one will find us there. We can talk, make plans.” Figure out what had gone wrong.
Still seething over his predicament, he climbed out, grabbed his knapsack from the backseat and did a visual check of the car, making sure he hadn’t left incriminating evidence behind. Then he led the way up the cobbled lane into the oldest part of the city, a once-lavish section that bordered the fortified wall.
The barking abruptly stopped. The cold wind gusted in the sudden silence, sending a plastic bag skittering over the stones. Dante glanced at Paloma walking beside him, the light from a wrought-iron lantern casting a silver sheen over her hair.
She hadn’t set out to harm him; he’d give her that much. His friend Rafael Navarro never would have agreed to help her if she had. And given her reaction to Gomez’s corpse, she also hadn’t expected to find the casino owner dead.
But her blackmail story still stank. Why would anyone threaten to expose her with the wild reputation she had? Unless she really was protecting someone else …
Dante slid her a speculative look. She stared straight ahead, her profile blurred by shadows, her long hair fluttering in the breeze. Who else could she be shielding? Her father? Her brother? Anticipation roared through him at the thought. If she was protecting her brother, that blackmail evidence could be the proof he needed to finally destroy that bloody murderer—hell, the entire royal family—including the spoiled princess at his side.
His conscience twinged, but he beat back any qualms. No mercy. The nobles sure hadn’t shown any to the hapless people of País Vell. For centuries, a few powerful families had controlled