High Stakes Seduction - Book 2 (2 page)

I tilted my head, giving her a puzzled look as I waited for her to continue.

"Well, you know, you're going to see so many wonderful places, and even if you wanted to, I don't think you'll get much chance to send me postcards…."

Now I felt really guilty, but she waved a hand at me when I started to speak.

“No, Angela. You don't have to apologize. You know I
want
you to go. And please, let's not go back over these bad memories. Mom is gone and now Dad’s gone too, but,” she looked down at her useless legs, “I can’t dwell on the things that I can’t do. Or even the people we can’t get back. You're working really hard to take care of us. And, I know you’re trying to get the money for my operation. But I want you to know that I feel bad that this is all on you, even if there isn't much choice right now. I need you, Ange, and really, I’m okay. Even if things don’t work out the way we want. I’m okay. Okay?”

I chewed my lip, trying to hold back the wave of emotions, but it was a futile effort. I squeezed Maria’s hands as the tears came and then we were both crying and hugging each other.

She had no idea how many times I’d come so close to telling her everything. To confessing the truth about why I was working for Antonio at all, and who I thought he really might be. I wanted her to know the truth about everything we owed because of Dad’s gambling. I wanted to tell her about the deals I’d made to try to straighten everything out.

But I was afraid she’d hate me for it. Hate me for taking the easy way out. For compromising who I was. And maybe even for using her as the excuse for justifying my own somewhat wanton behavior. She was my sister, but I had no idea what she'd say if she found out I had agreed to this trip as a way to "earn" the money for the operation. How would she feel if she knew I was as good as prostituting myself for a chance that she could walk again?

Because, even though I told myself I was doing this for her, there was still the little voice inside that knew different. I was going for my own selfish reasons too.

“Promise me you'll have fun on the cruise,” Maria said as I straightened up from the hug. I sat on the edge of the bed next to her. She reached over to wipe away the tears on my cheek. “Antonio’s arranged for a full-time nurse and there will be tons of people stopping by. Nevia, Thompson, even the neighbors will be looking out for me. You don’t have to worry, okay? Promise me.”

I rested my cheek on her palm and gazed into her hopeful eyes. “All right, Maria. I promise. I’ll go on this cruise, and I’ll do my best to relax and have fun.”

Maria laughed and kissed my brow. “That wasn't so hard now, was it?" she asked in her best big sister voice. "Now, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted by my emotions…”

I laughed and stood up, going back to my packing as I waited for her to continue.

“I have an ulterior motive for wanting you to take your camera.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, pictures that you take will be way better than post cards, but I thought maybe your photos might inspire me… you know I've always wanted to travel.”

“Oh, of course." I turned away, tears in my eyes again. Maria had always had a way with landscapes—she'd been planning to use the "education" money our mysterious Uncle Benito had sent to spend a summer painting in Paris. Absorbing the culture and taking advantage of the light there that had inspired so many French impressionist painters. But, that was before the accident turned our lives upside down. And before we'd had to start dipping into the Fund.

"I'll make sure you have lots of pictures to choose from."

Chapter Three

MARIA

I wiped away my own tears as I watched Angela finish packing all the lovely things she'd picked up since starting her new job. I liked seeing this side of her—it was such a kick to see my pretty sister dolled up! Especially after the drudge jobs she'd had since leaving college.

But why was she so reluctant to take her camera on the cruise?
She’s such a natural! And clearly loves it.
Over the past couple of years, that camera has become part of her.

"Good," I said when she finally agreed. "I love the way you're able to capture the subtle emotions on peoples' faces, all the different expressions, catching just the right moment. That's why you're so good at taking wedding photos. I just wish I could do the same with my paints."

I sighed as I looked out the window and into the world I’ve hidden from for too long. My own talents tended more towards landscapes and open vistas, not so much towards faces. But I hadn't picked up a brush since I'd come home from the hospital. I just hadn't been inspired very much.
It’s not fair that I’m trying to live vicariously through Angela. She deserves a life of her own.

I was finally able to feel happy for her. She works hard to take care of us. She'd even quit college and come home to stay after the accident. This cruise was an opportunity for a little pay back on her hard work.

Ange had just stepped in and taken care of everything—the funeral arrangements, the hospital, setting up the house for me and my wheelchair. Even Dad. Sad, morose, semi-drunken Dad. Our wonderful Dad who began disappearing for days at a time. Thank god I had Ange. At least I could depend on her.

"Do you have anything special in mind for my photos?" she asked.

"Nothing specific. Not yet. Jeez, you haven't even taken them," I laughed.

"But tell me what you want. People, scenes, tourist traps?"

"Yes, yes, and YES! Bring me back the flavor of the islands. If I can't be there myself, then you get to be my eyes and ears this time. My own personal advance mobile unit."

She gave me that strange, thoughtful look she gets sometimes, and for some reason I suddenly remembered the awful times when I'd struggled to adjust to life in a wheelchair before Dad disappeared.

"Sis, are you sure you'll be okay here by yourself?" The worry was back in her eyes. "What if there's an emergency?"

Damn, I really need to be careful about what I say!

"We've been over this already and everything is settled." I hated to take that tone with her, but sometimes I had to—like when she acted as if
she
was the older sister. "I've been doing fine on my own for a long time now. I can take care of myself. You know that, otherwise you'd still be stuck here all day with me."

I watched as her worry melt into sadness, mixed with a twinge of guilt. Oh dang, Maria, you just did it again.
Open mouth, insert foot!

"Seriously,” I said in a gentler tone. “I'll be fine. And besides, we've got Skype, so I'll be expecting regular reports from you."

"And vice-versa," she said.

"Agreed. Now you finish packing, I need to get something from my room." I backed my chair out of the doorway. I'd never been much for athletics, but being in the wheelchair had actually forced me to develop upper body strength. With the overhead trapeze, I could easily get into and out of bed, and so long as I was careful about putting things back where they belonged after I used them, there wasn't much around the house that could trip me up.

The phone rang as I passed the hall table, so I picked it up absentmindedly.

"Hello.”

A grunt and then silence on the other end, followed by the click of a disconnect.

That's strange
, I thought. And then, unbidden, I remembered the calls that had chased Dad away. The calls coming in at all hours of the day and night. It didn't matter what I said or how I tried to explain he no longer lived here. The heavy-handed creeps on the other end didn't care if they scared the bejeezus out of me— in some perverse way they seemed to like it. It had gotten so I wouldn't even answer the phone if I was home by myself.

I shivered, goosebumps running down my arms, trying to push that terrible time out of my mind. Ange and I’d both been relieved when the calls stopped, even though we never knew why. We'd just assumed the goons had finally caught up with Dad. But, I still hadn't felt any better about leaving the security of the house.

In fact, I still had the sense someone was watching. Waiting. I could almost feel eyes brushing across the skin at the back of my neck. Paranoid, I know, but I felt vulnerable, defenseless against potential threat.

But inside our little bungalow I was safe. Or so I thought. After everything that had happened to me, in a world where I’d lost so much, I liked feeling safe.

With Mom gone, it was awful not knowing where Dad was—or if he was still alive. After we found out about his heart attack, Ange was pretty angry, but I think I understand why he stayed away.

More than once I'd found him face down in front of Mom's picture, sobbing drunkenly and apologizing. I know he was filled with guilt for the accident that killed her and disabled me... it was rare he would even look me in the eye. I tried telling him, over and over, that the accident wasn’t his fault. He wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t talk about it. He’d just drink himself unconscious. I suppose it was the only way he didn’t have to think about missing Mom.

I shook my head, wanting to shake the memories away. There was still so much we just didn't know. But right now I needed to stop focusing on the call.
Maybe it was just random, a wrong number
. Unless it happened again, I just wasn't going to worry about it.

I grabbed my wallet from the bedside table and wheeled back into Angela's bedroom.

"Here, Sis," I said, holding out a hundred dollar bill. "I want you to find something really special for me on the trip. Something that gives me that flavor I was talking about."

She looked at me for a moment. "Maria, I can't take your money. And where did you get that? Is it from the Fund?"

I grinned sheepishly. She was right. It was from the Fund. The money Uncle Benito had sent for me to go to college. The same money we'd had to dig into after Dad disappeared—money we needed to supplement Angela's meager wages.

"Look, you know I planned to use the Fund to study in Paris—for my painting. So just think of this as a way for me to study in the Caribbean. But through your eyes, my little mobile unit."

She shook her head at me as I thrust it into her hands. "I know you won't disappoint me, and I really do want a souvenir. Please do this for me."

We'd both hesitated to cannibalize the Fund, but at the time it had served a wonderful purpose and we'd been able to keep the house. Thank goodness we had the house.

And now the Fund wasn't so important. Not since our new fairy godfather had shown up to offer Angela a job that was finally worthy of her! I was so relieved she'd been able to quit her dead-end waitress job with that slob of a boss.

Not that she'd ever complained about any of it. Not about having to leave college, or taking a crap job. She deserved this vacation. And, the way things were looking, maybe our fairy godfather might end up being her Prince Charming after all.

"Okay, I will, Sis," she leaned down to kiss my cheek.

I smiled, leaving her to finish up. "I'll do breakfast in the morning so you can finish any last minute stuff." 

Chapter Four

ANGELA

Antonio Mancini's presence loomed in the darkness the moment I slipped between the sheets that night and closed my eyes. I sensed his nearness rather than seeing his face. “What do you want from me?” I asked as I drifted off to sleep.

That night I dreamt of being in a circus tent, part of a high wire and trapeze act. It was suddenly my turn on the trapeze, and I froze. What did I know of flying through the air? A gentle push from behind sent me swinging out over the net so far below. Frightened, I held on for dear life. When I looked up, there was Antonio, swinging towards me, hands outstretched.

"Come on, Cara," he said in that deep, velvety voice. "Just let go, I'm here."

I swung back towards the platform, my mind a jumble. What should I do? Hold on? Let go? Was it safe?

As the trapeze swung out towards Antonio again, I saw the fire in his eyes, and at the last possible moment, I let go, flying towards his grasp.

Bells suddenly went off, startling me out of the dream. My heart racing, I sat up, looking around the room.
"
6:00 AM" said the clock next to the bed.

I drew my legs up, resting my head on my knees.

I didn’t know what these dreams meant, but they frightened me. Were they some kind of warning, or just my own overly dramatic imagination?

I thought of this arrangement I had agreed to, wondering again what exactly Antonio might expect of me. Wondering what I might be willing to do to fulfill the agreements and get my rewards. I remembered that night in the limousine, the way I had practically thrown myself at him.

I shook my head. I couldn’t go through with this. I couldn’t let myself become Antonio’s plaything. It would be too easy to lose myself in those eyes. Too easy to—

“Hey, Sis, I heard the alarm,” Maria said with a knock at my door. “I know you’re awake and I bet you’re as excited as I am!”

“Yeah, excited,” I said, trying to sound it.

“Come on! Thompson will be here soon. Let’s get you some breakfast.”