Happily Ever After (34 page)

If he was mad at her, he should ask why she wanted
to see Harlan. She loved him, but she wasn’t his lackey. The one thing she’d
learned from her relationship with Harlan was that she was wisest to look after
herself. She had given up everything to be what Harlan had wanted in a wife...
and it had left nothing of what she wanted for herself. In the end, Harlan
obviously hadn’t respected her for the sacrifice.

No, she
would never again be that foolish.

If any man wanted her—if Jack wanted
her—he would have to accept her with all her faults, not some token woman
whose life’s purpose was to bear children and be the model wife only to honor a
faithless husband. She wanted a man to want her for herself—not for her
name, or her father’s money.

She wanted Jack—Jack, who didn’t bow to any
man—Jack, who toiled after his dreams by the sweat of his
back—Jack, who respected her enough to talk to her about the things he
cherished—Jack, who was the first man to actually see her, and not her
father or her money or her name when he looked at her. And Sophie knew it too.
She saw herself in his eyes. She saw his heart there as well... at least she
dared to hope.

“How long do you think it will be before we reach
Harlan’s camp?” she asked Kell, growing restless. Jack hadn’t bothered to
answer her question. For all she knew they could be days away, or merely hours.

Kell looked about, studying the forest. They’d
reached a clearing of sorts, and he scratched his chin and looked at her,
smiling, then peered back up again to judge the path ahead. “Actually... I
think it’s just beyond—” He lifted his arm to point, but stopped in midsentence.

Sophie looked up to see what had caught his
attention.

It was Jack, coming toward them, his look nearly
murderous.

Her heart leapt.

His men parted like the Red Sea for him as he made
his way to the back of the line where Sophie walked with Kell. They stopped in
their tracks as he passed, turning to watch.

“We’re stopping here for the night!” he said loud
enough for everyone to hear, and in a tone that brooked no argument.

Sophie winced. He was staring at her so heatedly
that she thought she might burst into flames.

Kell blinked. “What the hell for?” he asked, his
expression clearly dumbfounded. It’s just beyond—”

“We’re stopping here!” Jack thundered, “because I
said we are!”

Kell pointed down the dirt path they had been
walking. “But hell, Jack—”

Jack pointed furiously at his feet. “I said we’re
making camp right here!” he persisted, and his stance was battle-ready.

Sophie winced again, and moved another inch behind
Kell.

Kell shook his head, but threw his hands up in
defeat. “All right,” he agreed, and dared to chuckle. “Whatever you say, Jack.”

Sophie looked up at Kell, wondering if he was
insane to laugh. She had never seen Jack look so terrifyingly mad.

The two men shared a look, and then Jack walked
away.

No one else said a word, and they set up camp in
the little clearing.

Sophie determined to steer clear of Jack, judging
it best to let his mood pass. She didn’t want to fight with him, and she was
going to need a shoulder after facing Harlan. Kell was sweet, but it was Jack
she needed most right now.

She just didn’t know how to reveal the truth.

She didn’t want his pity, just his compassion, and
she didn’t know how to say that her fiancé didn’t really want her—that
he’d all but discarded her. She’d rather Jack see for himself that she wasn’t
Harlan’s fool. She was no victim and she wasn’t the least bit devastated, and
she wanted Jack to see that truth with his own two eyes. Somehow, she didn’t
think he would believe her if she simply told him so.

In fact, her anger for Harlan had nearly faded
now... she just didn’t like him and was never more determined to set herself
free from the encumbrance of their engagement.

Harlan Horatio Penn could do whatever he wished,
love whomever he wished. Sophie just didn’t care anymore. He could stay in the
Yucatan for the remainder of his life, even... only without her father’s money.
She intended to do whatever she could to see that her father’s honor redeemed.

As for herself... she intended to follow her
heart, wherever it should lead.

With or without Jack, she intended to follow her
dreams. She was wiser, stronger, and ready to face whatever tomorrow would
bring.

CHAPTER 31

Jack remained long enough to be certain his orders
would be followed, and then set off again down the jungle path, confident that
he wouldn’t be missed while they were busy setting up camp.

Not that he was overeager to protect Harlan’s
reputation from Sophie, but he damned well didn’t want Sophie to be hurt if
they showed up to find Harlan otherwise occupied.

Jack had worked with the man for nearly a year and
his labors had been spent almost entirely in his tent, fondling women’s
breasts. Before having met Sophie, Jack’s greatest disgust with Harlan’s behavior
was in the simple fact that he seemed to have so little respect for his
vocation. If he took advantage of the women who came to him, it was nearly as
much the women’s fault as it was his own. They flocked to the campsites, hoping
to win themselves a husband who would take them away from the poverty of their
villages, but their affections were calculated, at best. Jack had long ago
resolved to mind his own business.

Except that now everything was different.

But the irony of his situation did not escape him.
He was on his way to warn the fiancé of the woman he loved that she was on her
way so that the cheating bastard could clear his tent of incriminating
evidence. How insane was that?

Still, he didn’t want Sophie to find out this way.
It wasn’t Jack’s place to tell her of her fiancé’s
dalliances—particularly not after he’d seduced her himself.

He hadn’t gone far down the path before he reached
his destination. Jose had guided them well, and they’d made good time. He broke
from the forest into the clearing in which Harlan had set up camp.

Jack didn’t bother asking where Harlan was, or
which tent was his. It was the biggest, of course. And he was always within
it—the sun bruised his skin, the night dampness gave him vapors, just
about any excuse not to work. Jack headed straight toward it, resentment in his
every stride. He loved Sophie. He wanted Sophie. And Harlan was a dirty,
stinking bastard who didn’t deserve her.

He found Harlan sitting at a small makeshift
table, hunched over his reading material, his brows knit deep in thought, and a
dark-skinned woman at his back, massaging his shoulders.

Cold fury seized hold of him.

Jack didn’t say a word. He went straight to the
desk, slammed down the telegrams that had been in the stove, and before Harlan
could say a word, Jack seized him by the collar and dragged him outside.

Harlan scarcely struggled, so addled was he.
“MacAuley!” he said in surprise.

Jack tightened his hold on Penn’s collar. “Yep,
it’s me, Harlan! Surprised to see me?” He jerked his collar up. Of course he
was surprised, he’d hired a saboteur to make sure Jack’s presence in the
Yucatan didn’t become a ball and chain around his lily neck.

“No, no!” Harlan objected. “I don’t know what
you’re talking about!”

Jack dug into his pockets for more evidence. He
drew out the ring he’d borrowed from Sophie, and showed it to Harlan. “No?”

Harlan’s face visibly paled.

Jack smiled ruthlessly. “I see you recognize it,”
he said, and closed his fist around the bauble.

“I didn’t do it!” Harlan said, and began to scream.
“I didn’t send those telegrams to Shorty!” His crew came running, hearing his
screams. Jack reared back and hurled a punch at Harlan’s jaw, releasing his
collar as he did so. Harlan flew back onto his rear, and his crew stopped and
stared.

“You didn’t send the telegrams to Shorty, did
you?” Jack said, flexing his empty hand.

“No!” Harlan declared, scrambling backward.

Jack opened his fist. “And you didn’t give him
this ring, either, did you, Harlan?”

“He must have stolen it!” Harlan swore, his eyes narrowing
furiously. “I didn’t give that to him!” Jack read the truth in his eyes. He
probably hadn’t given up the ring to Shorty. Shorty might very well have stolen
it, but it didn’t matter. The evidence still pointed in the same direction.
Harlan was a cheater and a thief!

He advanced on Harlan once more, lifting him up
and hurling another punch. “That’s for Shorty!” he said with cold deliberation
as Harlan fell back on his rear.

None of his crew moved a finger to help him, Jack
noticed—not that it would have stopped him.

He seized Harlan up once more, dusted him off
while Harlan babbled to him, and then hurled another punch. “And that one’s for
Sophia!” he informed him. One last time Harlan went tumbling backward, and Jack
told him, “I hope you’re enjoying yourself, Harlan! Hope the wench was worth
it!”

He left him on the ground that time, blood seeping
from the comer of Harlan’s mouth. Harlan narrowed his eyes, and he was suddenly
provoked. “What do you mean that one was for Sophia?”

Jack was encouraged by the confrontational look in
his eyes. “Fight with me, Harlan!” he demanded. “It’s no damned challenge to
scrap with a man who’s too much of a coward to defend himself!”

“I’m a gentleman!” Harlan fervently protested and
swiped at his mouth. “I’m not going to fight you!” he assured Jack, his tone as
haughty as a man could manage while still sprawled on his ass and spitting
blood through his teeth.

“Of course not,” Jack replied. “You’d much rather
pay a man to sabotage anyone who’s the least bit of a threat to you!”

“I didn’t pay Shorty to sabotage you!” Harlan
denied hotly.

“Yeah, well, how did you know it was Shorty?” Jack
countered, his eyes narrowed. “I didn’t tell you it was Shorty, now did I?”

Harlan opened his mouth to speak and then closed
it again. Jack took a step toward him, and he scurried backward to evade him.

“You’re a sorry excuse for a man, Penn!” Jack
said. “I’m not going to hit you again, but I am going to give you one solid
piece of advice!”

Relief lit within Harlan’s muddled blue eyes. “Wh-what
is that?”

Jack looked at him, willing the words to come out
right. He wanted to say nothing that would reflect poorly on Sophie.

“Sophia is here,” he said at last, his words
carefully measured. His hands trembled at his sides, and he gulped hard, swallowing
the emotions that barreled up within him.

Harlan started visibly, looking about. “Sophia is
here! Where?”

“Don’t piss your pants, Harlan! I’m not stupid
enough to bring her waltzing into your orgyfest, but she damned well will be
here bright and early tomorrow morning!” He gave Harlan a pointed glance. “You
don’t deserve the advance warning, but I’m here to tell you that if I catch
your mitts on even one set of breasts before she gets here, or if you hurt her,
I swear to God I will kill you with my bare hands!”

Harlan stood at once. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Make her cry, Harlan, and see what I dare!”

“I don’t understand!” Harlan exclaimed suddenly,
squaring his shoulders. “What is she doing with you, MacAuley?” He brushed
himself off, giving Jack an accusing glare.

Jack held his tongue.

“Why should you concern yourself over my
relationship with Sophia!”

Jack stood there, wanting to say so much more, but
determined to protect Sophie at all costs. Whatever she wanted, he wanted for
her—even if she wanted the bastard standing before him.

“Because I love her, that’s why!” he blurted, and
blinked in surprise at his own words.

Harlan blinked as well, but stared speechless
otherwise.

Jack nodded. It was the truth, damn it. He did
love her. And that was all he’d come to say.

He spun on his heels, leaving Penn staring
openmouthed after him.

The rest was up to Sophie.

CHAPTER 32

“Needing
time to think, Jack didn’t return to camp right away. When he did finally, it
was to find the camp mostly slumbering. Only a few tents were left illuminated,
Sophie’s included, and considering her past experience with lanterns, the light
drew him immediately to her. There wasn’t much danger in her starting a fire as
long as the lanterns were left in their braces, but just to be certain, he felt
compelled to poke his head inside.

His
heart danced at the sight of her.

She
was so beautiful lying there, with her hair spread about her face. She had fallen
asleep with her sketchpad at her side and her pencil still in hand. The
sketchpad was still open to the page where she had been drawing. Curious, Jack
lifted it up, marveling at the details she had captured so accurately on paper.

It
was the
dzonot
where they had spent
the previous afternoon. Never in his life had he seen a more... spiritual
drawing. There was no other way to describe it. Bathed in the rays of sunlight
it was almost possible to see the sanctity of the place, and in the lush
greenery, it was almost possible to spy
Hechicera’s
face. She wasn’t there, but somehow she was... an almost indistinguishable face
among the great canopy of leaves.