Free Captive Heart by Patti Beckman

allow him to trap her into a situation where they were alone together like this. Her hate for him was her only protection. She would use it like a sword against him until she was safely out of Peru!

Chapter 4

    JoNell sat alone in the airport office, staring at the flight log. She and Del Toro had flown back in icy silence. As soon as they had landed, he had dashed off to a pressing business appointment.
    Now she looked at the flying time she had recorded—one hour—and could not believe the figure she had written. She had lived a lifetime this morning. How could she write down only
one hour
! But that was the actual time in the air not counting the time they had spent on the beach.
    Del Toro's purchase agreement had stipulated ten hours of flying lessons. That meant she had nine more hours in the air with that man, sitting in the cramped quarters of the small plane. That would be painful for her—but safe. He wouldn't dare make any romantic overtures when they were flying.
    Because of Del Toro's busy schedule, it had been necessary to spread the ten hours of flying instructions over a two-week period. JoNell's heart sank at the prospect of spending two weeks in the household of Jorge Del Toro. Her only hope was that Del Toro's demanding business schedule would keep him so occupied she could avoid him at all times except when they were flying.
    Remembering the hypnotic spell Del Toro had cast over her on the beach made a shiver run through her. How glad she would be when she was safely home in Florida, a continent away from seňor Jorge Del Toro!
    JoNell was filing Del Toro's flight log in a cabinet when Miguel bounced into the airport office, his jolly face a circus of grins.
    "Come, seňorita. The seňor tell me to show you some of the city. I take you to the markets and stores. You will like these places very much."
    "Thank you, Miguel. I would enjoy that."
    Yes, she thought, a shopping trip would be good therapy for her jangled nerves.
    Miguel drove her to a section of the city between the Bolivar and Crillon Hotels, where a four block area was filled with shops specializing in Peruvian handcrafts. JoNell spent several pleasant hours browsing among displays of alpaca wool sweaters, llama rugs, Indian masks and reproductions of Inca jewelry in gold and silver. She made a few modest purchases of souvenirs to take home with her.
    Miguel waited patiently in the limousine, reading a magazine. When she finished her shopping tour, he took her on a sightseeing expedition of the impressive churches of Lima. She was certain she would have nightmares after viewing the mummified body of Francisco Pizarro in the cathedral, and the thousands of bones, skulls and skeletons laid out in neat rows in the catacombs of the Church of San Francisco. Miguel was so proud of being her guide that she didn't have the heart to object, but she was enormously relieved when they were back outside in the daylight.
    They were walking to the car when something quite terrifying took place.
    JoNell heard a distant rumble, and the earth quivered under her feet. She uttered a cry of alarm, clutching at Miguel's arm.
    He chuckled. "It is nothing, seňorita. Please do not be frightened. It is just an earthquake."
    "
Just
an earthquake?" she gasped.
    "Oh, not a real earthquake. Just, how you call it, a tremor. We have them all the time in Peru. Nobody pays any attention."
    But this unsettling experience was the last straw after everything else that had happened to her today, and JoNell felt a distinct need to lie down. "Could you take me home, Miguel? I'm suddenly very tired."
    "Certainly, seňorita." He opened the car door with his usual flourish.
    Miguel's usual breakneck speed on the way home was stifled at several places by crowds gathered around speakers. "Politicos doing much talking," Miguel muttered, steering his way through the throng, his horn blaring impatiently. "It is the
presidente
election soon to be held."
    JoNell saw giant posters of a gray