May the Best Man Wed by Darlene Scalera

Author:Darlene Scalera
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Cash waited for Savannah in the street outside the hotel the next morning. The first light of the day was long gone, but there was a feathery breeze denying the dust and humidity and sweat that would come later. Unlike a woman, Mexico was pretty in the morning.

“Señor.”

Cash turned to find the man he’d met last night coming toward him. “Buenos días,” he greeted. “You have news for me?”

“Sí.” The man smiled. Then he waited until Cash pulled out his wallet.

“I bring your message to Apolonia Luis, but she is gone. Her cousin tells me she has gone to the sea on vacation. She said, yes, the man with skin like milk came in a shiny car, then drove off like the wind when he learned Apolonia was gone. The family would not tell him where to find their only daughter. They spit in disgust if you say his name. They do not think your brother is honorable.”

“So McCormick doesn’t know where Apolonia is?”

“Your brother, like you, is a resourceful man, and information comes easy here for a man with resources. In the meantime, the cousin, a girl not as beautiful as Apolonia but with no less a romantic heart, calls Apolonia to tell her the fair-haired lover has returned for her. Apolonia asks the cousin to go to your brother and tell him she can be found at the Casa de Blue Bay on the Mexican Riviera, but she warns him only to come if his heart is hers. She waits until Sunday.”

Savannah’s description of McCormick yesterday at the marketplace painted a man headed toward the Gold Coast, not Atlanta. He rubbed his hand across his brow. The day was heating up, would be too hot soon. “How far a drive to this Blue Bay?”

“Six, seven hours. Maybe five if you cut through the mountains, but the roads are dangerous there.”

“I’m used to mountain roads.” As Cash asked for the name of the closest car rental, Savannah came out of the hotel and down the steps toward the street. Her chinos still had creases in them and the cap of her hair was smooth and neatly tucked under at the ends. On her feet were those funky shoes with the slim heels that didn’t look healthy. Except for several wrinkles on her shirtfront and a salsa stain that hand-washing hadn’t removed, the woman of last night was hidden.

“Ah,” the man said with a smile. “The fiancée. Good luck, señor.”

“Gracias,” Cash replied. He had the feeling he’d need all fortune the fates would grant him as he watched Savannah come toward him.

“Morning, Pookey.”

Two vertical frown lines appeared between her brows. She swallowed hard. The tequila had left her mouth dry and her mood raw.

“I need a new shirt,” she said flatly.

“I can spare you my 1999 Rocky Mountain Oyster-Eating Champion T-shirt, if you’d like.”

She gave him a withering glance before her gaze moved past him. “Who was that man?”

“I met him last night before my memorable reunion with you. He had news of McCormick.

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