Sooner or Later

  Murphy tried not to think about Letty, sitting in the foothills, awaiting his return. He just hoped she had the common sense not to do something stupid, like decide to come look for him herself. It would be just like her to investigate matters on her own.

  The woman had no patience. That wasn’t the only virtue in short supply, either. So prim and proper, she was; it had taken more restraint than he cared to admit not to kiss her senseless that very morning.

  She seemed to find it important to inform him she wasn’t the least bit sexually attracted to him. And pigs flew. She wanted him, only she was too damn proud to admit it. Naive too, he realized. She didn’t know what was happening to her. One thing was clear: she didn’t like these feelings.

  Well, she wasn’t alone. Murphy wanted to make love to her again, too. He knew better than to mix business with pleasure, but nothing was ordinary when it came to this mission.

  Without even trying, Letty Madden was the most alluring, enticing woman he’d ever known.

  Murphy didn’t like admitting that, and probably wouldn’t have, if he hadn’t been sitting in a jail with nothing but time and worry on his hands.

  Desiring her brought out the worst in him. He’d been crude with her earlier, wanting to shock her, punish her for being so damn desirable. He didn’t like being attracted to her, didn’t enjoy being turned on by a prim sister of a missionary. But he was, more than by any woman in a hell of a long time.

  Suddenly the front door to the jail swung open and a dumpy-looking policeman walked into the room. He was short, with a belly that looped over his belt buckle. Other than a cursory glance in Murphy’s direction, he ignored him.

  The two guards spoke in a rushed flurry of Spanish, most of which Murphy was able to catch. Apparently there was something important that demanded the other officer’s attention. Moose-Gut had been assigned to take his place guarding the prisoner until an important man arrived. Some captain, hopefully not Norte, Murphy thought.

  The first officer left, and a plan began to form in Murphy’s mind. The replacement didn’t look any too swift mentally, and physically a slug moved with greater speed and dexterity.

  He groaned, testing the waters.

  The guard ignored him.

  He was about to ask for a doctor when the door opened a second time and two meal trays were delivered by a tall, thin woman. One was for the officer, and Murphy suspected the second was his.

  Murphy’s stomach growled. It had been a long time since he’d last eaten. To his surprise, the meal looked downright appetizing. A nice green salad with plenty of vegetables, refried beans, warm tortillas, rice, and chicken. Murphy’s mouth began to water.

  The guard glanced once in Murphy’s direction, tucked a napkin into his shirt collar, and proceeded to eat. Murphy watched in disgust as the pig downed both dinners.

  About twenty minutes passed, perhaps longer, and the outside door opened again. Lying on his back on the thin cot, Murphy stared at the ceiling with his hands tucked behind his head. More out of curiosity than any real need to know, he glanced toward the door.

  His breath jammed in his lungs and he damn near fell off the cot. Poised inside the doorway was Letty. Only she wasn’t dressed as when he’d left her or at any other time he’d seen her.

  Letty had disguised herself as a whore.

  22

  Murphy didn’t know what the hell kind of game Letty was playing, but whatever she was up to, he didn’t like it. It required all the restraint he could muster not to stand up and demand just what the hell she was doing. As it was, he bolted upright and watched in shocked amazement as she strolled lazily inside the jailhouse.

  She had on a traditional Zarcero dress, a white elastic blouse with a large ruffle. Hers, however, seemed to be a couple of sizes too big and dipped low enough to expose the top half of her magnificent breasts. The tiered skirt reached midcalf, but one side was pinned up with a red flower, revealing a healthy portion of smooth thigh. Her hair spilled down across her shoulders like a silken waterfall. Her red lips pouted perfectly as she placed her hand upon her hip and sauntered forward until she stood directly in front of the fat guard’s desk.

  Murphy noticed the way Letty’s eyes avoided his. She wasn’t looking at the guard, either; instead her gaze lingered on the two empty dinner plates. A slow, relaxed smile came over her.

  “What do you want?” the officer barked.

  “Everyone left you, didn’t they?” she said in perfect Spanish, her tone sultry. “They always leave you with the dirty work, while the others take the credit.”

  “Who are you?” he asked, his voice less antagonistic.

  “A friend,” she said, her voice low and suggestive. “I’d like to become a very good friend.”

  Murphy couldn’t believe she was actually naive enough to think she could walk into the jail and seduce the keys off the guard.

  “I need a friend, and it seems that you’ve got lots of time to play.” Her voice dipped seductively. “And I’m the kind of friend who’ll play any game you want.” She bent forward and planted her palms against the side of the desk. As she did, her breasts all but tumbled out of the blouse.

  Like a lightning bolt, Murphy was off the cot. He stood with his hands biting into the steel bars. The woman was certifiable. This was a dangerous game, and he’d wager she had yet to figure out the rules.

  “We could have a lot of fun,” Letty continued. “Just the two of us. Just the way you like it.” She straightened and planted her bare foot on the desk and slowly edged back the hem of her skirt. Her leg was long, sleek, and smooth. The guard seemed entranced by the shape and texture of her pale skin. For that matter, Murphy was equally enthralled. He’d known she was a natural beauty, but he’d forgotten just exactly how beautiful.

  The guard moistened his thick lips, and Letty hastily removed her foot from the desktop.

  “Later,” the fat man suggested hopefully.

  She whirled around so quickly she sent her hair spinning, backed her buttocks against the desk, and sighed regretfully, pouting. “I’m busy later, but I have plenty of time now.”

  The guard hesitated.

  “Delma told me just the way you like it best.”

  He gave a nervous laugh and shifted uncomfortably on his chair. “You…you don’t object.”

  “No,” she said in a comforting sort of way, moistening her lips once more.

  Murphy couldn’t quite make out what she whispered next, but he understood enough. Apparently Letty claimed the guard’s particular sexual deviation just happened to be her specialty. He wiped a hand down his face. He couldn’t believe she was actually getting away with this.

  “How much?” the guard asked suspiciously, dragging his eyes down the length of her.

  Murphy’s gut tightened. He didn’t like that look one damn bit.

  Letty named a figure. The corner of her blouse slid down her shoulder, and she nervously raised it back up. Then, as if she suddenly remembered the role she was playing, she cocked her chin and allowed the elastic to slip back down once again.

  If Murphy had been watching Letty from a purely objective view, he’d have called this the worst acting job he’d ever seen. Except for one small thing. Letty had the body of a starlet—young, supple, naturally seductive. Without her inhibitions getting in the way, she was instinctively provocative. He’d noticed some of that early on when they’d first met in Boothill. Murphy had known intuitively that just beneath the surface of her self-righteous facade lay the heart of a carnal, captivating woman.

  Even though it was all an act, Letty managed to have an effect on Murphy. He was as mesmerized by her sleek, enchanting body as the guard appeared to be.

  Murphy’s body tightened with desire as Letty maneuvered herself about the room, skillfully avoiding being fondled by the jailer. Murphy didn’t know what she had in mind, and he didn’t want to know, because whatever it was had to be asinine. If she thought she could overpower a man who weighed three times as much as
she did, then she was about to learn a painful lesson.

  Although he’d investigated every avenue of escape a thousand times, he did so again. Within minutes Letty was going to be screaming her head off, requiring help. She hadn’t seemed to figure that out yet.

  He glanced at the guard and saw that he’d followed her around the room a couple of times in a crazy cat-and-mouse game, then walked over to the door, where he twisted the lock.

  “My oh my,” Letty cooed, “you’re already big and strong.”

  Murphy’s knuckles cracked against the steel bars as his grip tightened. If the pig of a jailer so much as touched her, he swore he’d find a way to kill the man.

  “Are you ready for the time of your life?” Letty whispered, leading the way into the open cell. She looked over her shoulder.

  It might have been his imagination, but it seemed to him that the guard’s step wavered slightly as he followed Letty into the cell.

  Murphy’s gaze followed them both like a hawk. He was seconds from coming unglued. The two danced around each other. Letty’s skirt rustled against the guard’s pants, her breasts achingly close to the fat man’s chest.

  The jailer lunged for her once, but she laughed and ducked. Then, by some miracle, the guard staggered, his eyes rolled back into his head, and he collapsed face first onto the cot. It seemed as if all the strength went out of him at once.

  Letty closed her eyes in abject relief and clenched her hand to her breast. “Thank God,” she whispered.

  “What the hell happened?” Murphy demanded.

  Letty pressed a finger to her lips and hurried out of the cell. Frantically she searched through the drawers until she found a set of keys. First she locked the guard inside one cell and then she unlocked Murphy’s.

  “We’ve got to get out of here,” she whispered frantically. “Norte’s on his way.”

  “Shit.” Murphy grabbed her hand and half dragged her across the floor.

  “Maria and Vincente are outside.”

  “The children?” She’d brought them into this as well. He would have thought she’d know better.

  Sure enough, the two oldest children waited in the bed of a rusted-out pickup. A woman he didn’t recognize sat in the driver’s seat. As soon as they appeared she cast him an anxious smile and started the engine.

  “Hurry,” Maria urged, glancing down the street.

  “The children will cover us,” Letty explained, hopping onto the tailgate and slithering into the straw.

  Murphy followed. As soon as they were safely concealed, he felt the additional weight of the straw, then heard the two children scramble into the front. Soon the truck took off at a leisurely pace.

  “What the hell was going on back there?” Murphy demanded.

  The front right tire hit a pothole and Letty was thrown against him. “I’ll explain later,” she promised.

  “Explain now,” he returned, refusing to be thwarted. They were tossed about like potatoes tumbling down a conveyer belt, but he didn’t care. He wanted answers.

  “We got you out, didn’t we?” she reminded him.

  “That had to be the craziest stunt I’ve ever seen. You had to dress up as a hooker. Judas Priest, you’d play the role of a nun more effectively.”

  “I’d think you’d be grateful instead of complaining,” she muttered, sounding none to pleased with him.

  Well, he wasn’t exactly happy with her, either. She’d been stupid, and damn lucky she’d come out of that jail unmolested. He’d like to know what happened to the guard. As far as he could see, she hadn’t slipped him anything. There were any number of ways to have broken him out of jail that didn’t require her to play the role of a hussy.

  The jostling continued, and Murphy inadvertently slammed against Letty once more. This time she released a yelp of pain.

  Murphy cursed silently and looped his aim around her, pulling her tight against him. At least now they weren’t ramming into one another. Beneath the thick load of straw the heat was stifling and the air stale; nevertheless Letty felt soft and feminine pressed up against him.

  Murphy held his breath and tried not to think about the woman in his arms. Tried not to notice how soft her breasts felt against his forearm. Or how her buttocks were tucked snugly in the notch between his thighs. Complicating everything else, she smelled good. Real good. Murphy wasn’t much for flowers, but the scent reminded him of lavender.

  Hardly aware of what he was doing, he turned his head and nuzzled her ear with his nose. It might have been his imagination, but Letty seemed to ease her head back to him.

  Imagination or not, he relaxed for the first time since he’d been arrested. He loosened his hold on her and rubbed his forearm beneath the weight of her breasts. Damn, but she felt good. Their heaviness fell against his arm, and his senses went into overdrive. It didn’t do any good for him to lie to himself. He wanted her.

  He pressed his lips against the back of her neck and whispered, “Thank you,” close to her ear.

  She sighed audibly and rolled over so that she faced him. “What did you just say?” She sounded incredulous.

  “Thank you,” he repeated gruffly, and because being obliged to anyone was foreign to him, he added, “You know, for breaking me out of jail.” Later, when the time was right, he’d discuss her methods.

  What seemed particularly right at the moment was to kiss her. Testing the waters, he lowered his mouth to hers and brushed his lips across hers. He felt her soft gasp as he stroked the width of her mouth with the tip of his tongue.

  Her hand gripped hold of his shirt collar when he kissed her again, only this time he held nothing back. Groaning, he thrust his tongue deep into her mouth, probing the inside with slow, gentle forays that pitched his senses into outer space.

  Letty whimpered softly and tentatively touched his tongue with her own. Murphy thought his heart was going to slam straight out of his chest at the heady excitement that filled him. He’d never been so hot for a woman. Had it been anyone else, he would have flipped them on their back and done away with any other preliminaries.

  With Letty everything was different. He wanted matters to be right with her. He wanted to please her, to pleasure her. With other women he’d never felt such a keen responsibility.

  Wrapping his arm securely around her, he dragged her hips against his swollen front and sighed audibly when she rotated her softness against him.

  Without a lot of finesse—little was afforded him in the moving vehicle—he glided his hand up her front to her breast. Her ripe fullness overfilled his palm. It didn’t surprise him that her nipple had already tightened into a bead of arousal.

  “The whole time in the jail…,” she said between soft kisses.

  “Yes?”

  “I pretended…”

  He lowered his mouth to her bared breasts, kissing, sucking, and licking her nipple. “You pretended,” he prodded.

  “That I was enticing you.”

  He chuckled softly. “Count your blessings you weren’t.”

  “My blessings?”

  “Yes.” He captured her nipple between his lips and sucked greedily. She moaned and buckled beneath him. “Trust me, sweetheart, I’d have had your skirt up over your head so fast you wouldn’t have had a chance to tell me about your specialty.”

  She stiffened. “Everytime I begin to think…” She hesitated, then added on a priggish note, “You’re unbelievably crude, Mr. Murphy.”

  It seemed incredulous to him that they were practically making love and she insisted upon referring to him as “Mr. Murphy.” “It’s the truth, sweetheart. If you’re honest with yourself, you’ll admit you want me just as much.”

  There was no telling where their discussion or their love play would have taken them. Just then the pickup came to a rough, abrupt stop. Letty buried her face against Murphy’s shoulder and exhaled sharply. They weren’t given more than half a second to compose themselves, right her blouse front, and untangle their arms and legs.

&nb
sp; “You okay?” the children’s grandmother asked.

  “Fine,” Murphy said in a growl.

  “Letty?”

  “I’m…fine too.” She sounded anything but.

  “Where are we?” Murphy asked, looking around.

  The old woman didn’t answer. “Come. Quickly,” she urged.

  Murphy helped Letty down from the tailgate. He noticed that her legs weren’t any too steady on the ground. His senses had taken a wallop as well, but he didn’t allow it to show.

  “Stay here,” the woman instructed. She left them standing in the shadows and approached the house alone.

  “This is the home of Abuela’s brother, Aldo,” the youngster explained.

  “He’s a fisherman,” Vincente added.

  Several minutes later Abuela walked out of the house with a short, white-haired man. He looked to be well advanced in years and suffering with curvature of the spine.

  “My brother, Aldo,” the old woman said.

  Murphy exchanged handshakes with the man.

  “I understand you and your woman saved the lives of Elena’s grandchildren. Our family is grateful. Now it is time to repay your kindness. Follow me.”

  He led them down a narrow, winding path. The only light came from the moon and stars. The dirt pathway curved a meandering trail through the dense vegetation toward the river.

  “We’re looking for my brother, Luke Madden,” Letty said, not losing sight of the reason for this mission. “Do you know him?”

  The old man paused and rubbed his chin, his look thoughtful. “What city?”

  “Managna, near San Paulo.”

  Aldo scratched his chin a second time. “San Paulo is a large city, and I don’t know any Luke from Managna.”

  “He’s a missionary. He has a church and a school there. He’s been missing ever since the coup.”

  “I wish you well in finding him,” the old man said when they reached the water’s edge. The water slapped against the shore like a woman washing clothes by beating them against a rock.